William Lovelock - Concise History of Music PDF

109115
A CONCISE
HISTORY OF MUSIC
BY
WILLIAM LOVELOCK, D.Mus.
with drawings by
EDGAR HOLLOWAY
FREDERICK UNGAR PUBLISHING CO.

NEW YORK
First published 1953
Reprinted. 1955
JReprinted9 with corrections and revised
record lists9 1959
Reprinted 1962
Published by
G. Sell and Sons* Ltd
York ffottse, Portugal St.
London, Wr.C.s
Printed in Great Britain by

~he Camelot Press Ltd. 9 London and Southampton.
CONTENTS
Chap. Page
Suggestions for Study 9
1 On the Study of Musical History 13
2 The Beginnings of Western European Music 22
3 The Early Development of Counterpoint 35
4 Early Secular Music 52
5 The 'New Art' and Its Development 55
6 Vocal Music in the Sixteenth Century 69
7 The Rise of Instrumental Music 85
8 Vocal Music in the Seventeenth Century 99
9 Instrumental Music in the Seventeenth Century 119
10 The Age of Bach and Handel 134
1 1 The Rise of Classicism 147
12 Developments in Opera 160
13 Beethoven 170
14 The Romantics and Their Music 178
15 Romantic Opera 198
1 6 Late Romantics and Nationalists 207
17 Impressionism and the Contemporary Scene 222
Inde 233
FOREWORD
writing this book I have tried to trace not only how

the main stream of music
developed, but also, to some
IN limited extent, the
underlying causes of that develop-
ment. The growth of an art does not take
place in a
vacuum; it is inevitably affected by many external factors,
and these cannot be overlooked or underestimated. A book
of this length can be no more than a bare outline, and
much that is of interest has had to be omitted, to
keep to
the mainline of development. I have not
attempted to
mention every possible composer, but have rather referred
to those who appear to be the more
important. In any
case, a history which consists mainly of lists of
composers
and their works is of but little value. What matters is the
in which music grew, the
way development of styles
and forms.
In the case of many of the earlier composers there is
often some divergence of opinion as to the dates of their

births and deaths. I have
given those sanctioned by the
more recent research, though even here there is at times
some lack of agreement among authorities.
I must record
my gratitude to Dr. Wilfrid Dunwell,
B.A., B.Mus., for his patience in reading my drafts chapter
by chapter. His comments and criticisms have invariably
been both helpful and stimulating.
W.L,
SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY
this is a book for the beginner, not for the
specialist, it is not proposed to include a detailed
SINCE
bibliography. It is suggested, however, that the
student should supplement his reading by the books men-
tioned below; also that relevant chapters of any or all in
List i, and any other comparable books on the general
history of music, should be read in conjunction with

the
individual chapters of the present work. From experience
both in his student days and as a teacher, the writer has
found that a surer grasp of facts is to be gained by reading
what several writers have to say about a given matter or
period, rather than by constantly rereading
a single book.
Moreover, each writer deals with his subject from his own
one will tend to stress one aspect, while another will
angle;
adopt a different approach. So that by the time the student
has been through three or four different books he should
have a fairly all-round grasp of the basic facts.
Constant reference to relevant articles in such com-
to Music, Grove's
9
pilations as Scholes Oxford Companion

Music, Collins
9
Music Encyclopediaandtlne Harvard
Dictionary of
Dictionary ofMusic invaluable to supplement the inevitably
is
condensed information given in the chapters which follow.

It cannot be too strongly stressed that reference to the
music studying the printed copy and listening to per-
itself,
formances, essential for anything like a full understand-

is
ing. (It may be pointed out to the prospective examination

candidate that the days are long past when a pass in history
could be achieved by writing about what one had merely
read about. Examiners expect some knowledge of the music
itself, not just of other people's opinions
of it.) For the
up to Bach, a brief but useful book, which every

period
io A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
student should possess, is Masterpieces of Music before 1750,
by Parrish and Ohl (Faber), containing examples of the
chief types of composition from the days of plainsong on-
wards. More comprehensive, and invaluable to the earnest
student, is the unique Historical Anthology of Music, by
Davi-
son and Apel (2 vols., Oxford University Press), available
in any reputable library. For the period since 1750 suffi-
cient music is available, including miniature scores, for the
student to make his own selection with some guidance
from a teacher.
The record lists to each chapter do not pretend to be in
any way comprehensive, but they should be especially
useful in the earlier period.
List /. General Outlines
Einstein: A Short History of Music (Cassell).
Finney: History of Music (Harrap).

Sachs: Short History of Music (Dobson).
Colles: The Growth of Music (Oxford University Press).
Parry: The Art of Music (Kegan Paul).

Stanford and Forsyth: History of Music (Macmillan).
The last three are not always entirely in line with the
results of modern research, but nevertheless contain much
useful information.
List 2. For More Detailed and Comprehensive Study
The Oxford History of Music (Oxford University Press).

Reese: Music in the Middle Ages (Dent).
Bukofzer: Music in the Baroque Era (Norton).
Einstein: Music in the Romantic Era (Norton).
Lang: Music in Western Civilisation (Norton).

Strunk: Source Readings in Music History (Faber).
Walker: History ofMusic in England (Oxford University Press) .
Dent: Opera (Pelican Books).
Abraham: A Hundred Tears of Music (Duckworth).
Man and his Music: 4 vols. (Rockcliffe).
SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY 11
The writings of Sir Donald ToveyEssays and Lectures

on Music, the six volumes of Essays in Critical Analysis
(Oxford University Press), and his articles on music in the
Encyclopaedia Britannica are not only informative, but
stimulating.
Those who wish to delve into the processes of con-

temporary music are referred to:
Abraham: This Modern Stu/ (Citadel Press).

Maine: New Paths in Music (Nelson).
Dyson: The New Music (Oxford University Press).
Lambert: Music Ho! (Faber).
Garner: A Study of 20th-century Harmony (Williams).
K?enek: Studies in Counterpoint (Schirmer).
Bauer: 20th-century Music (Putnam).
Dunwell: Evolution of 20th-century Harmony (Novello).
The lives of most of the great composers, with considera-

tion of their works and styles, are usefully dealt with in
c 9
Dent's Master Musicians series of books.
Records
For the earlier periods the H.M.V. History of Music in

Sound, and the German Arckiv series are invaluable and it is
hardly necessary to look elsewhere. The lists from the time
of Bach onwards are the merest suggestions, and can be sup-
plemented ad lib. by reference to the various catalogues.
All records mentioned are available at the time of writing,
but current catalogues should be consulted since frequent
changes are made.
CHAPTER ONE
ON THE STUDY
OF MUSICAL HISTORY
may well begin with a question: What are the
WE object and the value of the study of the history of

music? It should be obvious that to undertake
the study of any subject without some definite aim, merely
to load the mind with a host of facts which may never be
put to any use, is a waste of time, interesting as it may be.
The object of our study of musical history should be to
increase our understanding of the art; its value is that it
can give us a greater appreciation of and insight into the
works of the various composers. Not only can it augment
our understanding and appreciation, but it can broaden
them so that, given the receptiveness which comes by
deliberately trying to keep an open mind, we can
follow
intelligently and gain enjoyment, in the highest sense, from

the music of all periods, not confining our liking and listen-
ing to that which makes the most immediate appeal.
We
can achieve some understanding of and sympathy with a
composer whose work may at first seem unattractive, by
knowing why he wrote in his particular style. Admittedly,
everyone has personal preferences. One type of mind is,
for example, more strongly attracted by the style of Mozart
or Beethoven than by that of Bach or Handel; while an-
other may instinctively prefer the latter to the former. But
there is no reason why both minds should not appreciate
the greatness of all four composers, this appreciation being
fostered and deepened by the thoughtful study of history.
The person who says, *I don't like Bach's music, therefore
it is no good,' is simply adopting the attitude of the fond
mother who remarked, when watching a platoon on the

I 4 A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
9
c
march, Our Jack's the only one in step ; he betrays a total
lack of historical background. Also, be of common it said,
9
sense. Whether we personally 'like the music of Bach or
of any other great composer, or whether we find it lacking
in appeal, we must still admit its greatness, since it is
attested by the general consent of educated musical opinion.
There are a number of ways of approaching the study
of musical history. Of these the least useful is the method
of memorising the dates of the births and deaths of com-
is to be deprecated; but
posers. Not that such knowledge
the fact that Bach was born on March sist, 1685, and died
on July s8th, 1750, is relatively immaterial. What does
matter is the fact that his active life as a composer lay in
the first half of the i8th century.
The personal circumstances of a composers life are im-
portant in so far as they affected his output of composition.
In some cases, e.g. a large number of the composers of the
17th and i8th centuries, the effect was considerable; in
others, and especially since the beginning of the igth cen-
tury, it was far less so. More generally important are the
influences which went to the formation of a composer's
style, and the way in which he may have influenced his
successors.
The effect which the course of a composer's life may have
had on his output is well illustrated by reference to the
chief appointments which Bach held. Leaving aside his
9
short year of service as organist at St. Blasius Church in
Mulhausen, his first important post was that of organist at
the Ducal Court of Weimar, to which he was appointed
in 1708. His duties necessitated the provision of works for
performance on the instrument in the castle chapel, hence
a large number of preludes and fugues, the toccatas, the
LittleOrgan Book, etc. After his promotion to the posi-
tion of konzertmeister in 1714, he was obliged to furnish
9
a *new piece monthly for the chapel; hence many can-
tatas. From 1717 to 1723 Bach was kapellmeister to
Prince Leopold of Anhalt-Cothen, i.e. he was responsible
ON THE STUDY OF MUSICAL HISTORY 15
for the court music which, in this instance, was of a secular

nature. 'The Cothen court*, to quote Prof. C. S. Terry,*
6
was "reformed", its chapel an unlovely vault in which only
9
stern Calvinist psalm tunes were heard.Bach was con-
cerned with the provision of instrumental music, in some
of which the Prince himself took part. Hence such works
as the orchestral suites, the concertos, and the sonatas and
suites for violin. For the time being he had no need to
write choral music, and therefore gave it no attention.
On his appointment, in 1723, as Cantor at St. Thomas's
Church in Leipzig, Bach was faced with the task, among
other things, of providing some fifty-nine cantatas annu-
ally, and although he indulged in a good deal of 'borrow-
ing' from one work to another, adapting older movements
to fresh words, his extant cantatas number over 200. Be-
sides these, the Leipzig period also saw the birth of the
Passions and other great choral works, written under the
obligations of his appointment. It is a solemn thought that
had Bach remained at Cothen until he died, we might
never have had the experience of being enthralled by the
St. Matthew Passion, the motet Sing Te to the Lord, or the
Mass in B Minor, to name no others.
Returning now to the question of the study of musical

history. Another method of approach is the study of the
growth of the various forms, i.e. the structural principles,
which have emerged in the course of the centuries. But
this is to some extent a limited aspect, and is in any case
bound up with the development of the various styles. It is
the study of the origins and development of these styles
which is perhaps the most useful and generalised approach,
since the nature of a style is determined by all possible
factors melody, harmony, texture, formal structure, etc.
as well as the actual aim and object of the compositions.
We shall therefore try to trace, admittedly only in brief
outline, thegrowth of musical styles.

In the past 1,000 years, which is the approximate period
* Bach, a
Biography.
16 A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
to be covered by our study, a number of differing styles
have originated, developed to a climax, and then more or
less gradually declined. Up to about the year 1600, com-
posers were chiefly concerned with mastering the technique
of polyphony that is, the satisfactory combination of two
or more simultaneous melodies and rhythms. A number
of peaks were scaled en route, and the polyphonic summit
was reached in the latter part of the i6th century. In the
years immediately before 1600, however, new ideas, based
on a more harmonic approach, were in the air. These
were exploited in many directions and led, in the first half
of the 1 8th century, to the twin summits of Handel and
Bach. Before these two men had completed their life-work
further new
ideas began to emerge, leading, by way of the
'classical'sonata and symphony, through Haydn and
Mozart to Beethoven. Beethoven himself was the bridge
into the next period, the 'Age of Romanticism', with which
are associated the names of such men as Weber, Schumann,
Liszt and Wagner. And so we move into the present cen-
tury, with its many conflicting currents.
It must be realised that there is no clear dividing line
between the various periods and styles; they merge, the
culmination of one style being overlapped by the begin-
nings of a new one. This may be clearly seen in reference
to Bach, some of whose own sons were among the pro-
genitors of what developed into the 'classical' style, and

who were inclined to look upon their great father as old-
fashioned, irreverently referring to him as 'the Old Wig'.
Neither must it be thought that a new style of writing
makes, as it were, an entirely fresh start; it is a gradual
development from its predecessor, in due course reaching
its culmination, and germinating in its life the seeds of
its successor.
Such labels as 'classic' and 'romantic' must not be taken
too 'Romanticism', for example, is assumed to
literally.
imply, among: other things, the expression of personal emo-
to this expression. It is applied particularly to music of

the igth century. But composers of this period were not
the first to give their music this personal expressiveness; the
Elizabethan madrigalists had done so over 200 years earlier,
while some would claim that, at least in this connection,
the greatest of all romantics was Bach. Similarly with the
term 'modernism'. It is common to speak of 'modern'
music and a 'modern' style as if they were inventions of
the soth century. But there have always been modernists.
Bach's sons were modernists in that they thought and wrote
in what was in their time a 'modern', i.e. a new idiom.
Schumann writes of Beethoven as one of the 'moderns'.
Possibly the greatest and most influential of all modernists
were those unknown pioneers who, some time before the
year 1000, first gave system and order to singing at inter-
vals other than the octave and unison, for instance the 4ths
or 5ths which separate the tenor and bass voices; from
which conception derives all music written since their day.
The history of the development of an art cannot be dealt
with in isolation. Music, like painting, sculpture or archi-
tecture, has been continuously affected by external factors,
in particular ecclesiastical and social conditions and changes.
In a relatively brief study of musical history it is obviously
impossible to deal with the effects of such factors in any
detail; all that can be done is to indicate some of the more
outstanding influences and to show their outcome.
In medieval times the majority of musicians, whether
composers or executants or both, were in the service of the
Church; many, indeed, were in holy orders. Their chief
duty was to provide and perform music for the church
services, though this did not mean that they necessarily
confined their attention and labours solely to such music.
Up to the time of the reformers Luther, Calvin and the
English Protestants church music developed on certain
lines, generally conformable to the (Catholic) religious
outlook of the times, and calculated, especially in the
1 6th
century, to enhance the devotional impulses of the
i8 A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
worshippers. The congregation, however, took little or no
part in the musical side of the services. The Reformers,
despite certain differences in method and achievement, had
many aims in common, among these being a more actual
and personal by the congregation in the act
participation
of worship. To this end the use of the Latin tongue,
customary in the Western Church from its very beginning,
was discarded, the services being conducted in the verna-
cular, and some, at least, of the music being congregational.
This had an immediate effect on the style of music com-
posed for use in the Reformed Churches, an effect which
was rapidly felt in other directions. Most notable, to cite
a specific example, was Luther's introduction of the chorale.
From this arose the Chorale Prelude, a form of composition
brought to the ultimate peak of perfection by Bach, many
of whose works in this genre are of unsurpassable beauty.
Yet had Luther never begun his fight against abuses in the
Church, Bach's chorale preludes, and his cantatas and
Passions, might never have been written.
In the later Middle Ages the changing social conditions
and the wider spread of culture provided opportunities for
large numbers of musicians to take service in the house-
holds of wealthy rulers and noblemen, who, either from
natural inclination or in conformity with the prevailing
fashion, posed as patrons of the arts. The composer, how-
ever employed, was expected to provide music acceptable
to the taste of his employer, this taste being largely dictated
by the fashion of the moment. This is not to imply that

the only music written in, say, the i8th century, was such
as might satisfy the palate of the wealthy but
possibly
untutored layman. Musicians have always been ready to
experiment, and much has depended on the employer. A
patron such as the great Prince Nicholas Esterhazy, Haydn's
employer for many years, may be said to have been in-
directly responsible for a great amount of progress and
development in music by his encouragement of his great
musician-servant (who, incidentally, was expected to wear
a livery like any other employee), and by his great personal

interest in the art. Haydn, possibly more than any other
musician of this period, the 'Age of Patronage', was in a
position to give rein to his inventive genius in every direc-
tion, to the lasting benefit of music.
It is only by experiment that progress is possible; it is
the man with the forward-looking type of mind, be he
musician, painter or designer of aeroplanes, who forces
man out of the rut of 'what was good enough for my father
is good enough for me
9
Experiment may at times have

.
been wild at one point it reached such a pitch that the

authority of a papal Bull was needed to curb its exuber-
ance but even the wildest experiments may have in them
the seeds of future developments of real value. (Fewer than
fifty years ago there were those who laughed at the Wright
brothers' attempts to fly in a heavier-than-air machine.)
The c man with a mission 9 may be a fanatic with a large
bee buzzing in his bonnet, but his aims and ideas, how-
ever fantastic they may seem to his contemporaries, may
be based on principles which can lead his successors
steadily forward to a goal which he himself could only
dimly envisage.
The reader should not misinterpret the preceding para-
9
graphs. Music has not 'progressed in the sense that it has

c
continually got betterand better'. To say that the science
of medicine has progressed by 'getting better' between the
Middle Ages and the present day is an obvious truism. But
who is to say whether, for example, the gth Symphony of
Beethoven is intrinsically 'better' than the St. Matthew
Passion of Bach or Messiah of Handel, both of which were
written before Beethoven was born? It is only in com-
paratively recent times that a clear realisation of the value
of much of the older music has come about, due largely to
the work of musicians who had the interest to study the
works of earlier ages. The musician-servant of the i8th
century, for example, provided only contemporary music
for the delectation of his employer, and had to be prepared
to compose what was required for any given occasion.*
Composing to order was largely the rule, whatever post
the musician held, and 'revivals' of older works were un-
heard of. What the audience wanted was the music of
their own time, this being presumably considered 'better'
than that of preceding generations. At the present day
this would be comparable to performing, say, the sym-
phonies of Sibelius, Vaughan Williams and Walton, but

neglecting entirely those of Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven.
In the case of medicine we are dealing with concrete facts.
We can say categorically that penicillin is a better curative
agent than some horrible medieval compound of frogs' eyes
and bats' blood. But music is of all things the least con-
crete and tangible, and while personal preference may give
the listener a bias towards the music of one period rather
than another, it is essential to realise that there has never
been a time when works of real artistic value were not being
written.
In the writings of the lyth and i8th centuries we find
'continual reference to the contemporary 'perfection' of
music. In 1647, Heinrich Schiitz, in the Preface to the
second part of his Symphoniae Sacrae, refers to 'the modern
Italian manner ... by means of which music is thought to
have at length attained its final perfection'. Nearly a hun-
dred years later, Jean Philippe Rameau implies that the
music of his time is 'more perfect than that of the ancients'.
While in 1752 Joachim Quantz states that 'it took a long
time to bring music to that approximation of perfection
in which it stands to-day'. Possibly the first to realise
the fallacy of this attitude was the Belgian musicologist
* The an
Italian violinist Vivaldi furnishes excellent example of the
working of this system. 709 he was appointed professor of the violin
In 1
at the Ospedale delta Pieta in Venice, becoming Maestro del Coneerti (con-
cert director) in 1716. A condition of his appointment was that he
should provide two concertos a month for performance by the orchestra,
so that the total of his works in this form, all more or less written to
order, is immense. And this before 'mass production' was heard of.
See also the mention above of Bach's various posts and the types of
composition resulting therefrom.
Fransois-Joseph F6tis (1784 to 1871), who writes: 'One of

the greatest obstacles to the fairness of judgments on the
value of musical works is found in the doctrine of progress
applied to the arts. I have long striven against it, and I had
to endure lively altercations when I maintained that music
changes, and that it progresses only in material elements.'
We may agree that perfection has been achieved within
a given style, as in, for example, the work of a Palestrina,
a Bach or a Mozart, but personal taste cannot be set aside.
If beauty, as it has been said, is in the eye of the beholder,
we may perhaps also say that perfection in music lies in
the ear of the listener. For one, perfection may be repre-
sented by the St. Matthew Passion of Bach; for another by
the Jupiter Symphony of Mozart (which Schumann included
e
among the things in this world of which there is nothing
to be said at all'); while yet another may find the unsur-
passable in Beethoven's Choral Symphony.
Not every composer has been a Bach, a Mozart or a
Beethoven; not every poet can be a Shakespeare or a
Milton. Nevertheless, the work of the lesser men has its
value, and that not merely because it points towards that
of the giants. We may admit, for example, that Bach's
study of the works of Pachelbel and Buxtehude helped
greatly to form his own style; it is certain that he learned
much from them, and we can see, at this distance of time,
that they were, so to speak, only part of the way up the
mountain whose summit he ultimately attained. But while
they did not achieve the stature of their great successor,
they produced much music which is itself of far from
negligible value.
Finally, the need to hear music of all periods and styles
must be stressed most strongly. All our study of history, of
style, of form or of anything else is so much wasted effort
unless it is applied to improve our understanding and appre-
ciation of music itself; and music has no real existence
except in sound. Which brings us, full circle, back to the

opening of this chapter.
CHAPTER TWO
THE BEGINNINGS
OF WESTERN EUROPEAN MUSIC
early times the chief, if not the only patron of the
arts was the Church, and it is in the music for the
INvarious services the Mass and the other 'Offices'
that the developments which have led to the music of
first
the present day are to be traced. Folk-song is the oldest

form of music, but although its style has varied from cen-
tury to century and from country to country, it can hardly
be said to have developed. Similarly, the secular callings
of minstrel and jongleur are of great antiquity, but their art
developed only up to a certain point. (The French jongleur
derives from the Latin joculatory whose function in Roman
times had obviously some connection with the lighter side
of musical entertainment.) Possibly the only 20th-century
survivals of the minstrels in the British Isles are the strolling
fiddlers sometimes encountered in parts of Ireland.
All music is based on some kind of scale, and an account
of the origins of our music must begin with some considera-
tion of the derivation of its scale-system.* The scales which
were the basis of the early church music derive from those
of the ancient Greeks and are known as modes. A mode
consists essentially of a series of sounds proceeding by steps
from a note to its octave, and its name and character are
determined by the order of the tones and semitones (and
sometimes other intervals) within that series. It is im-
portant to realise that mode and key are two entirely dif-
ferent things; key depends on pitch; mode does not. The
actual pitch of a mode is immaterial; provided that the
* But let
not be thought that the scale is invented before the music
it
is composed.Music, at first in the form of melody, gradually evolved
and from it a scale-system was ultimately derived. In other words,
practice came before theory. See also page 31.
BEGINNINGS OF WESTERN EUROPEAN MUSIC 23
set order of tones and semitones is maintained, the mode

remains unchanged, whatever the pitch. The difference
between the keys of G major and G major lies in the fact
that the latter begins a perfect 5th higher (or a perfect 4th
lower) than the former; but their mode is identical. In
both, as in all major scales, there are semitones between
the 3rd and 4th and the 7th and 8th degrees above the
tonic, the other degrees being separated by whole tones. In
any harmonic minor scale there are semitones between the
and and 3rd, the 5th and 6th and the 7th and 8th degrees,
while there is an augmented 2nd between the 6th and 7th;
the other degrees lie a tone apart. Thus, whatever its pitch
or 'key', the mode of any minor scale is the same .as that of
any other one, but differs from that of any major scale.
The modal system of the ancient Greeks was highly
organised and complex, the scales being classified as dia-
tonic, chromatic and enharmonic. The medieval scale-
system, which served as a basis for composition until the
1 6th century, arose from a misunderstanding of the Greek
diatonic system. To describe in detail how this misunder-

standing came about would require far more space than
can be spared. Briefly, the differences between the two
systems are as follows. The Greeks recognised four prin-
cipal modes, the Dorian, Phrygian, Lydian and Mixolydian,
beginning respectively on E, D, G and B, and consisting,
in modern terminology, of 'white notes' only. Their
characters were distinguished, as has already been men-
tioned, by the positions of the semitones in relation to the
lowest notes. To these were added four subordinate modes,
the Hypodorian, Hypophiygian, Hypolydian and Hypomixolydian,
beginning a 5th below their respective principals. There
would seem to be little doubt that the earliest music of the
Christian Church had strong affinities with that of the
Jewish rite, but writers on music throughout the Middle
Ages based their work on such garbled versions of Greek
theory as were passed on from the ancient world to the
Dark Ages. This was so even in the Byzantine (Eastern)
Church, which was, at least geographically, the most likely
inheritor of the ancient Greek tradition. The Byzantines
formulated four 'chief modes and four subordinate ones
which began a 4th below their respective chiefs. The
subordinate modes were called 'plagal' and corresponded
to the 'hypo' modes of the Greeks. But error had crept
into the conception of the system, since the four 'chief
modes of the Byzantines began respectively on D, E, F
and G, i.e. in ascending order as opposed to the descending
Ex. i. The Medieval Modes
Mode I Dorian Mode II
P
Hypodorian
58==
^ TT * ,,-
W
Mode III Phrygian Mode IV Hypophrygian
Mode V-Lydian Mode VI Hypolydian
Q
Mode VII
ivioac vii lYiixuiyuian
Mixolydian^ ^ Mode VIII Hypomixolydian
" '
-
ft
order of the Greeks. Further, the first mode was that on
D as against the Greek Dorian^ which began on E. It is
impossible to say exactly how or why these errors arose in

the Byzantine theory. They were accepted by such
western writers as Boethius (approx. 475 to 520) and
Alcuin (735 to 804).
Later writers, misunderstanding the explanations of the
and-century author, Ptolemy, failed to perceive the true
Greek theory, but adopted the Greek names, applying them
wrongly. The ultimate outcome was a series of modes
known and Mixolydian, begin-
as Dorian^ Phrygian, Lydian
ning respectively on D, E, F and G, and known as Authentic
modes, with their respective plagal versions beginning a
4th lower called and Hypodorian^ Hypopktygian, etc.
At a later period two more modes, with their plagal

attendants, were admitted, the Aeolian (A to A) and the
Ionian (C to C). This gave a series of twelve modes of
which the complete theory was ultimately expounded by
the Swiss writer Henricus Glareanus in his Dodecachordon
in 1547. The Aeolian mode is practically our minor scale,
and the Ionian our major. They were hardly new inven-
tions, but their incorporation into the official system did
provide theoretical justification for the current practice of
composers. The Ionian mode was far from uncommon in
secular music the famous English round Sumer is icumen in
Ex. 2. Aeolian and Ionian Modes
^olian Mode ^ ^. Hypoasolian Mode
fl
Ionian
Ionia Mode Hypoionian Mode
in the major scale

( 3th or early I4th century) is as clearly
1
as anything ever written but it was frowned upon by the

Church for this very reason, and was dubbed Modus
9
Lascivus, the 'wanton mode.

Examination of Exx. i and 2 shows that some modes
with different names, e.g. Dorian and Hypomixolydian, Hypo-
dorian and Aeolian^ are superficially identical. This identity
is, however, apparent rather than actual. A mode was
Final, that is, the lowest note of
its its
distinguished by
'authentic' version. Thus, the final of both Dorian and
Hypodorian is D, that of the Mixolydian
and Hypomixolydian
is G, and that of the Aeolian and Hypoaeolian is A. melody A
in the authentic Dorian mode would lie fundamentally be-
tween D
and its octave, circling round the dominant A,
and would end on the lower D. In the Hypodorian mode
the melody would lie between A and its octave, but would
end on D, not on A. An authentic Aeolian melody would
also liebetween A and its octave, but would end on the
final It must be remembered that a 'final' is not a
A.
'tonic A final is the note on which a (modal) melody
9
.
ends the lowest note of its authentic mode. A tonic is

the note which gives its name to a key, and it has already
9
been pointed out that the term 'key is inapplicable in
modal music.
The between authentic and plagal melodies
difference
may perhaps be further clarified by reference to two well-
known tunes of later date. The melody of 'Drink to me
only with thine eyes', if written in G major, lies between
G and its octave. It might be said to be in the 'authentic*
key of G major. The melody of 'You Gentlemen of
9
England , in the same key, lies within the octave above D,

but uses only the notes of the scale of G major and ends
9
on G. It might therefore be said to be in the 'plagal
form of G major.*
It is sometimes stated that St. Ambrose (333 to 397) was
responsible for the arrangement of the four authentic modes,

and that St. Gregory the Great, who was Pope from 590 to
604, added the plagal versions. It is far from certain that
this isso, though both undertook or initiated some systema-
tisation of the church music of their time. It is doubtful
whether either had anything to do with the theoretical
basis of music or, indeed, composed at all. Ambrose, apart
from insisting on a more restrained and devout style of
performance than that prevailing, was the author of a
number of Latin hymns which are still in use, and was
responsible for an Antiphonary which was later replaced by
that of Gregory. Gregory was responsible for reforms in
both ritual and music. His name is most commonly
9
associated with 'Gregorian chant , a method of rendering
the psalms which is still the standard in the Roman Church
and also in many English churches.
The origins of our present system of musical notation
1 These two melodies
are to be found in the New National Song Book
(Boosey and Hawkes).
were remarkably humble. The Greeks had a notation

based on their alphabet, but this method, although it
appeared in western Europe, using Roman characters,
about the roth century, never gained any great hold there.
As long as the body of church music remained but small,
it is possible, though by no means certain, that it may
have been passed on orally, probably undergoing frequent
modification in the process. But even if oral transmission
ever did exist, the increased use of music in the services,
and the undesirability of variation, made some system of
notation obviously essential. The earliest attempts were
vague, consisting of neumes. These were a kind of direc-
tional signs placed above the Latin text, and were at first
little more than mnemonics for one who was already familiar
with the music. They indicated, roughly, whether the tune

rose, fell, or remained on the same note, i.e. its general curve,
and may be compared with the cabalistic signs used by some
teachers of elocution to indicate the rise and fall of the voice.
In course of time the number of neumes grew quite large,
and their shapes and meanings became increasingly definite.
Even so, a large element of vagueness remained, the inter-
pretation of any given neume, or group of neumes, depend-
ing too much on the individual singer. In the gth and loth
centuries there were numerous attempts to devise a really
definiteand satisfactory method of pitch-notation, and some
time before the year i ooo one writer it will never be known
who decided to draw above the text a single red line repre-
senting the note F, with neumes above, across, or below it.
This, the origin of our present stave, was an enormous step
forward, since it clearly indicated one definite note from
which others could be more or less accurately calculated.
Even so, strict accuracy was certain only within the imme-
diate vicinity of the Line, i.e. within a range of four or five
notes. The complete solution was eventually reached in
two further stages. A yellow line, representing G, was added
above the red one for F, giving still greater exactness; and
finally two black lines were added, one on each side of the
F line. This produced a complete stave of four lines, which
was of a very large number of
sufficient for the notation
the traditional melodies.
The addition of the yellow and black lines to the original
red F is sometimes attributed to the Benedictine monk
Guido d'Arezzo 990 to 1050), but it seems more likely
(c.
that he merely advocated and helped to popularise a
method which was already to some extent in use.* Guido's
chief works are Micrologus, in which he expounds his
methods of teaching, and De Ignoto Cantu, a treatise on
sight-singing which opens with the caustic statement that
'the most fatuous of all men of our times are the singers'!
It is certain that Guido simplified and clarified neumatic
notation, his reforms leading in the direction of our present

note shapes. He also made systematic use of the first seven
letters of the alphabet for naming notes, and invented a
system of 'Solmisation', in which the degrees of the scale are

designated by syllables rather than by letters, as in Tonic
Solfa. Rather surprisingly, his method was based not on
one of the officially acceptable modes, but on the 'wanton 9
Ionian. Whether this was due to secular influence or to
prophetic genius is debatable. The fact is that he noticed
that the lines of a well-known hymn to St. John Baptist
began successively on the notes G, D, E, F, G and A,
and it was from the initial syllables of the lines of this
hymn, used as mnemonics ut-re-mi-fa-sol-la that he formed
his system. These names, with the addition of si for B,
are still used in France and Italy, though in the latter
country the more singable do is substituted for ut.
* It must be realised that the

\vritings of this early period, long before
the invention of printing, are scarce and their authorship often uncer-
tain. The authors, moreover, were not writing for posterity but for
their contemporaries who, in all probability, already had some idea of
the subject with which any given treatise was dealing. Many early
writers seem almost to have been constitutionally incapable of
expressing
themselves with any clarity, and difficulties are increased by the fact
that for centuries the language used was ecclesiastical Latin, which is at
times almost incomprehensible. There are therefore a number of matters
on which even the most erudite of musicologists cannot be certain.
It was stated above that the four-line stave was adequate

for the notation of a large number of melodies. It must,
however, be noted that absolute pitch was not then fixed

as it is, by general agreement, nowadays. The relative
pitch of the notes of a scale was quite definite, but the
absolute pitch of a melody would vary according to the
singer and according to the mode. Thus, the authentic
Dorianmode and any melody in that mode could be noted
with no trouble within the limits of the four-line stave:
Ex.3
DEFGABC D
But as long as the second line represented F, a Hypodorian

melody (A to A) would lie partly above or partly below
the stave, and leger lines were as yet far in the future.
The solution to this difficulty was found in defs (a clef is
literally a 'key ) which could be moved up or down the
9
stave in the same way as the C clef moves on our present

according to whether the part is being read
five-line stave
by, for example, a viola player (middle line) or a tenor

trombonist (4th line) .* For a Hypodorian melody, therefore,
the clef would need to be placed higher on the stave so as
to make available more lines and spaces below the note it
indicated. See Ex. 4, overleaf.
* The
so-called 'Great Stave* of eleven lines, with the G clef always
on the 6th line,so beloved of writers of books on the rudiments of music,
is merely a theoretical abstraction. In the course of the centuries the
number of lines in the stave has varied, often according to the caprice
of the individual composer, and also according to the type of com-
position. There are examples of staves of fifteen lines
with three defs
at different levels, and the maximum would seem to be one of no fewer
than twenty-five lines for a five-part composition. The eleven-line stave,
as one authority says (G. F. Abdy Williams, Notation), 'was never in
practical use except by accident*. The medieval composer shifted
his
defs about to suit himself, a practice which, in combination with an
unwieldy stave, at times produces results alarming to the QOth-century
eye.
The earliest clefs were F and C, and were originally
formed simply as capital letters. In the course of time, and
probably owing to the desire of scribes to embellish them,
they have assumed their present shapes. The G (treble) clef
appeared first in the 1 3th century, but was only rarely used
before the rise of instrumental music in the i6th century.
Ex. 4. Hypodorian Mode
ABCDEFGA
Before leaving this very rough outline of early notation,
one other point must be mentioned. The Greek diatonic
9
system, although largely based on the 'white-note scale,
admitted what would now be called B flat in certain cases,
and this carried over into the medieval system. One reason
for this was the dislike of the augmented 4th F to B
(the
9
medieval theorist's Diabolus in Musica or 'Devil in music ),
9
which could be 'softened into the perfect interval by flat-
tening the upper note. Two kinds of B were therefore
recognised, 'hard' and 'soft
9
The hard B B durum -was
.
indicated when
necessary by the sign b, also known as
B qwdratum or 'square' B; the soft B B mollis was shown
by b, B rotundum or 'round B. These two signs are respec-
9
tively the origins of our t] and [>. The sharp sign # was
a later invention, and was at first used equally with to
t|
indicate a contradiction of [>.

So far only the theoretical aspects of the early music have
been considered; what was the music itself? The answer
9
to this question is 'pure melody Deliberate singing or
.
playing in two or more parts seems to have been unheard

of, though it is hardly possible that it cannot at times have
occurred accidentally. The ancient Greeks understood
9
'magadizing , Le. playing or singing in octaves; indeed, this

was hardly avoidable if women and men, or boys and men,
were performing together. But the mere duplication of a
melody at the octave not part-singing or playing. It

is
must be realised that misunderstandings of ancient Greek

theory, and the lack of clear and definite notation, had little
if any on the composers themselves during the cen-
effect
turies when the body of Tlainsong' was being built up.
Who were the men who wrote much of the music will
never be known. Even Ambrose and Gregory actually
if
composed, their contribution, as compared with the enor-

mous amount of such music still extant and still in
regular use in the Catholic Church, much of which dates
from very early times, could be but small. It is worth
remembering that practice always precedes theory; the
composer writes as he feels impelled to write, and then
the theorist comes along and explains what he has done
and how he has done it.
Many people find plainsong an acquired taste, and it
must be admitted that the lack of harmony and the use of
unfamiliar scales may be some slight bar to its immediate
understanding and appreciation. Nevertheless, to those
who will take the trouble to familiarise themselves with it,
plainsong isas rewarding as any other style of music. The

first essentials, as in approaching any music which may
need some effort for appreciation, are an open mind and
an acceptance of the fact that, since educated musical
opinion agrees that it is a highly-developed branch of musi-
cal art, there must be something of value in it which is
worth searching for. It is most strongly urged that those
to whom plainsong is unfamiliar should take every oppor-
tunity of hearing it as it is performed in the bigger Catholic
churches and cathedrals. Merely humming it over to one-
self,or playing it on the piano, conveys nothing of its dig-
nity and beauty; it is music for use under certain conditions
and must be heard in the surroundings for which it is
intended.
Plainsong can only be correctly understood and inter-
preted when sung unaccompanied. It is more than doubt-
ful whether instruments were used in churches at all before
about the gth century, and the only instrument which haj
never been considered unacceptable is the organ. In the
Middle Ages there was continual warfare between the musi-
cians, who tried to introduce into the church instruments
other than the organ, and the ecclesiastical authorities, whc
disapproved of their use on account of secular associations,
(Later, however, the authorities modified their attitude
considerably; hence, among other things, the orchestrally
accompanied Masses of Mozart and Schubert.) The ear-
liest organs, in any case, could hardly do more than dupli-
9
cate the melody; even had such a thing as 'Harmony been
evolved (it had not), the crude instruments of the time
could not have attempted it.* The use of organ accom-
paniment to plainsong, although common enough nowa-
days, is strictly speaking an anachronism, and is only to be

tolerated if of the most simple and restrained character.
The music of the Church, then, at least up to the loth
century, was purely melodic, any melody being normally
limited to the compass of one octave the octave of its
mode. It was, moreover, not bound by any rigid metrical
rhythm. Definite note values were not thought of until
the 2th century, when 'measurable music' first made its
1
appearance. Authorities differ considerably on the rhyth-

mic treatment of plainsong; all that can be said with any
certainty is that there was no organised system of relative
note values comparable to minim, crotchet, etc.
The types of composition embodied in plainsong are those
applicable to the various services of the Church, the melodic
style varying from simple to highly ornate. The hymns
which occur in services such as Vespers and Compline are
frequently of a very straightforward kind, often using mainly
one note to each syllable, and exhibiting a minimum of
ornamentation. An example is the Advent hymn, of which
* The
'keys' were actually 'sliders', pulled out or pushed in to admit
or prevent the admission of air into the pipes. The invention of keys
to be depressed dates from the i2th century, and the earliest were of
a size to be struck by the clenched fist; hence the term pulsator organorum
organ-beater for the organist.
the words are attributed to St.

Ambrose, Conditor alme
siderum. The usual English version begins: 'Creator of the
stars and light.'
Ex. 5. Gonditor alme siderum
Con - di -tor al-me si- der*um, Ac -ter na lux ere -den -ti_-um,
Je - su, Re-demp-tor om-ni-um, la -ten -de vo -tis sup-pli-cum.
Of the more ornate kind we may quote the Passion Sunday

hymn Vexilla Regis (The Royal banners forward go'). It
dates from the end of the 6th century.
Ex. 6. Vexilla Regis
J)J3J'J^J>J Jj J)
Vac -il - la Re - gis pro - de -unt: _
W**
Ful-get Cru-cis
mys-ter - i - mn,
Qua vi -ta mor- tern per
- tu -lit
Et mor te vi - tarn - tu -
pro 1
This is one of the great melodies of all time, as will be

readily agreed by all who have heard it sung in its proper
surroundings.
The most highly ornate melodies are found in some of
the music for the Mass. Much of this is of great beauty,
with an amazingly complex melodic outline, classified as
'melismatic' plainsong. Melisma is a Greek word literally
meaning 'song'. The term 'melismatic' is applied to pass-
ages where several notes are taken to one syllable,

The most important body of plainsong is that for the
Mass. It is divided into two categories,

the Ordinary and
the Proper. The Ordinary consists of those portions of which

the words are invariable, mz. Kyrie Eleison ('Lord have
9 c 5
mercy ), the Gloria, the Credo, the Sanctus ( Holy, holy, holy )
and Benedict ('Blessed

is He that cometh in the name of
the Lord') and the Agnus Dei ('0 Lamb of God'), The
setting of these sections comprises
a 'Mass' in the musical
sense. The Graduate Romanum, which is the official book
of music for both the Ordinary and the Proper, contains
a number of plainsong settings of the Ordinary, thus per-
mitting a certain amount of variety.

The Proper of the Mass comprises those portions of which
the words vary according to the occasion, and although
every passage has its own music, there is

only one setting
of each; there are no alternatives as in the Ordinary. The
Proper consists of four sections Introit, Gradual, Offertory
and Communion. These are always sung to plainsong, having
been 'set' by composers only very rarely.
RECORDS
H.M,S,Vol,2,Nos.ntoi3,
CHAPTER THREE
THE EARLY DEVELOPMENT OF
COUNTERPOINT
the latter part of the loth century was written a
work called Musica Enchiriadis. The authorship, as is
IN the case with so many of the early writings, is doubt-
ful, but is now generally attributed to a certain Abbot
Otger.* This book, whoever its author, is a landmark in
the history of music, since it gives the first account of a
method of singing in anything but unisons or octaves. It
expounds the principles of Organum or Diaphony (the two
terms are synonymous medieval writers are always care-
ful to insist on this), of which the essential basis is the
duplication of a melody in parallel 4ths or sths. The

author of Musica Enchiriadis did not invent organum. It
seems to have arisen some time in the gth century, so that
Otger, like Guido d'Arezzo in his later writings on nota-
tion, merely explained a practice which was already in
common use.
In its simplest form organum involved the straightforward
doubling of a plainsong melody at the perfect 4th or 5th
below. The plainsong was then known as the Vox Prind-
palis or Principal Voice, and the doubling part as the Vox
Organdis or Organal Voice. Thus, the simple fragment at
Ex. 7 (a) could have an organal part added as at either
(*) or ().
Ex.7
(a)
-e- ** ^ e-
(b)
e- -Q- j? -e-
(c)
-e- .0. j -^.
* It was monk named Hucbald.

formerly attributed to a Flemish
Further, the principal voice could be doubled at the octave
below, and the organal voice at the octave above, giving
four-part parallel movement:
Ex.8
Absolute parallelism of the voices was, however, modi-

fied at times because of a rule that the organal voice might
not descend below tenor G. (The reasons for this rule were
logicalenough to the musicians of the time, but are far too
complicated to be elucidated here.) Thus, if the principal
voice dropped below F, oblique motion one part moving
while the other is stationary came about.
Ex.9
Principal voice
Organum
By the time of Guido d'Arezzo organum at the 4th below

was the only accepted procedure; that at the 5th had fallen
into disuse, and in his Micrologus Guido states clearly that
9
it is 'not allowed Rules, more or less complex, for the
.
adding of the organum had been worked out in detail, to

allow for all kinds of possibilities, and the employment of
oblique movement was normal in the appropriate circum-
stances. Much thought had also been given to the occursus,
the 'coming together' of the voices at the end of a passage
so that they ended on a unison, forming what we should
now rail a radftnr.fi.
EARLY DEVELOPMENT OF COUNTERPOINT 37
Ex. 10
7 .. M
Ex. 10, quoted from Guido, shows that in certain cases a

step beyond oblique motion was taken, viz. contrary motion.
This at first would only occur in approaching a cadence,
but the fact that by Guide's time (he died in 1050) it was
accepted as 'correct' procedure, under however limited
conditions, proves that there had been some progress since
the time of Otger. More important, however, is the fact
that the occasional use of contrary motion led musicians
to exploreand exploit its possibilities apart from the occursus.
The kind of writing so far dealt with is known as the
Old Organum; that based on contrary motion, which is gener-
ally accepted as dating from about 1050, is called the New
Organum. Unfortunately, there is here a gap in our know-
ledge. Guido deals with the old organum, and the English-
man John Cotton, in his Musica, written about noo, deals
to some extent with the new. There is also an anonymous
treatise of about the same date, Ad Organum Faciendum ( On
e
the Making of Organum'), which explains the new pro-

cedures. But writers between Guido and Cotton simply
ignore new organum, and the fact that it now came into
existence is attested only by a few examples of the music
itself, composed for performance and not merely to illus-
trate theoretical principles. The most important and illu-
minating of these examples are found in an English MS.

called the 'Winchester Troper', which dates from not later
than 1080, and which proves that contrary motion was
rapidly being combined with the old parallel and oblique
procedures.
Ex. ii
This shows both similar and contrary motion, and includes

the 3rd as well as the perfect concords. Although to us
the major and minor 3rd are entirely consonant, to the
early medieval musician they were discords. The major
and minor 6th were felt to be even more dissonant, and it
was some time before they were freely accepted as con-
cords. The earliest examples of the new organum still rely
mainly on the unison, 4th, 5th and octave, but within the
next century srds and, gradually, 6ths make more frequent
appearance. In later examples of the new organum more
and more prominence is given to movement in contrary
motion; some, indeed, employ it almost exclusively. By this
time, it is to be noted, the octave doubling of principal and
organal voices had dropped out of use. Simple two-part
writing was the rule.
At this point it may be well to digress and to trace briefly
the manner in which composers' attitude to concord and
discord has developed. Scientifically, i.e. in accordance
with the laws of acoustics, concord and discord are classi-
fied and distinguished in exact terms. The perfect 4th,
5th and octave are perfect concords, the major and minor
3rd and 6th are imperfect. All other intervals are discords,
and all combinations of three or more notes containing
within themselves one or more dissonant intervals are also
discords. Aurally, however, a concord is any combination
of sounds which the ear is willing to accept as such, and in
e
the course of time this aural tolerance 9 , regardless of scien-
tific authority, has increased more and more.
By the i6th century what may be called the traditional

academic attitude to discord was fairly fully developed, but
such procedures as the unprepared appoggiatura were still

outside the composer's vocabulary. Discords were taken
either as passing notes, or were prepared and resolved as
suspensions. It is often stated that Glaudio Monteverdi
(1567 to 1643) was the first to take the 7th of a chord

without preparation, but he seems to have been anticipated
by the Englishman William Byrd in his four-part Mass. In
the course of the 1 7th century composers began to exploit
the emotional possibilities of new methods of dissonance-
unprepared 7ths, appoggiaturas, etc. to a considerable
degree, though to some extent the English madrigalists of
the late i6th century had pointed the way. By the end of
the 1 7th century the attitude to the handling of dissonance
had developed enormously, and in the work of Henry
Purcell, for example, we find some really surprising pro-
cedures. But it is to be noted that his most startling com-
binations of notes always resolve logically and, what is
more important, sound logical.
Throughout the i8th and much of the igth centuries
composers continued to hold an orthodox and traditional
attitude to the treatment and use of discord. The treat-
ment, it is true, had become gradually less rigid, but a
discord, in the traditional sense, was still a discord and
must be resolved. In this respect the most forward-looking
composer of the i8th century was Bach, whose freedom is
at times astounding. In the latter half of this century there
was a tendency to greater restraint, composers being on
the whole content with a more restricted vocabulary. In
the work of Liszt (1811 to 1886) and Wagner (1813 to
e
1883) a change of attitude begins to emerge. The nonn

of consonance' of both these composers was a good deal in
advance of that of their predecessors, and also of many of
9
their contemporaries. (By 'norm of consonance is meant
what the ear will accept as a concord, not requiring resolu-
tion.) To Wagner, at least in his later works, a 7th chord

did not necessarily need to be resolved in the traditional
way; he frequently used a series of more or less unrelated
discords for some specific emotional or illustrative purpose,
9
regardless of 'orthodox rules. But all his harmonies, how-

ever astringent or unexpected, have a traditional basis;
they can be 'explained' in traditional terms.
Since Wagner's time composers have delved deeper and
deeper into the possibilities of dissonance, and the ear has
come to accept as concords combinations of sounds which
were formerly considered
to be discords. So that in the
3
more 'advanced composers, e.g. Schon-
case of some of the
berg and Bartok, any distinction between concord and
discord in the traditional sense has completely broken down.
The principle is rather that of tension versus relaxation, the
more astringent combinations contrasting with those which
are less so. Not that this principle is new; it is almost as
old as harmonised music itself. The distinction, too, depends
largely on such matters as context and the prevailing style.
The emotional or psychological effect of any given dissonant
combination is far greater, far more pungent, if it occurs in
the course of a passage which is fundamentally consonant,
than if its surroundings are almost entirely dissonant. But
whereas the older composers used discord (in the traditional
sense) as a relief from uninterrupted concord, the more
advanced present-day writers do not admit the old distinction
at all. They use the less tense combinations as a relief, where
desirable, from the more tense ones. And the musical ear
is able to move with them, and can now
accept, quite easily,
sounds which a century ago would have been considered
excruciating.
Returning now to the isth century. Despite the addi-
tion of an organal voice, of whatever style, to the plain-
song, the rhythm of the music still remained that of the
words to which it was sung. In the latter part of the i2th
century musicians began to turn their attention to the pos-
of 'measure' in music that is, to find some system
sibility
whereby musical sounds could be of definite length regard-
lessof the words. Here again the origin of the initial im-
pulse is obscure; we have to accept the fact that from about
the middle of the century works appeared dealing with the

principles of musica mensurabilis or 'measurable music'. It
ispossible that the impulse came from a desire to sing two
different sets of words simultaneously, in which case some
method was needed of fitting them together, so that not
only would they start and finish at the same time, but that
the laws of organum could also be complied with en route.
This, however, is by no means certain. It may also be pos-
sible that, despite the Church's traditional lack of sympathy
with secular music, there may have been some influence
from the dance. Any dance necessarily involves regular
pulsation, and it is exactly this idea of the even beat which
is the basis of measurable music.
Practically all the earliest examples of measurable music

depend on the subdivision of a basic long note into three,
i.e. the time is triple. It has been claimed that from 1150
to about 1300 all music was in triple time, but this may be
an overstatement since the oldest extant treatise, Discantus
Positio Vulgaris, seems to suggest duple possibilities. Dance
tunes of this period were not infrequently in duple time.
There is, however, no doubt that any leaning to such time
in sacred music disappeared very quickly, and that triple
time became not merely the normal but the only kind of
measure. The basic fact of triple time was that the long
note could be subdivided in three ways two beats plus
one, one plus two, or one plus one plus one; and as long
as the time taken over the long note remained invariable
these subdivisions could be combined with each other, and
with the basic note, in a variety of ways. The fragment
on p. 42 shows some of the possible combinations in a
three-voice passage.
Extending the basic idea of the triple subdivision of the
long note, series of such subdivisions, with or without the
inclusion of the long note itself, were organised into Rhythmic
Modes, a complicated system in which, among other things,
the value of a written note might depend on that of the note
preceding, or sometimes following, it. The merest outline
of system would require many pages of explanation,
this
and without numerous examples, would
its intelligibility,
be questionable. Broadly speaking, it involved the setting

out of a voice part in one or other of some six metrical
5
arrangements of note-values, the one 'mode persisting

throughout the whole of the part. This obviously induced
a great deal of rhythmical rigidity, and the whole method
was undoubtedly mechanical in its application. Its value,
as we can now see, lay in the fact that it helped musicians
Ex. 12
to the understanding and management of metrical

rhythm
as opposed to the free, verbal rhythm of earlier times. The
use of the rhythmic modes persisted until about the end
of the 1 3th century, when with the advent of new and freer
ideas, they fell into disuse.
It must be understood that now
although musicians had
arrived at an understanding of the even beat and exact
note-values based on triple rhythm, they did not divide
their music into bars of equal
length. A
mark similar to
a barline might be used at the end of a phrase, but bar-
lines in the modern sense,
dividing up the music into por-
tions each containing the same number of beats, determined
by a time-signature, did not come into regular use until

the rise of instrumental music in the i6th
century. Time-
signatures, indeed, lay still in the future, and the earliest
ones, in any case, had an entirely different signification
from those of the present day, as will be seen in due course.
The most important work dealing with measurable music

is the Ars Cantus Mensurabilis (The Art of Measurable Song*),
by Franco of Cologne, late iath century. Franco's import-
ance is shown by the name sometimes given to this period
the 'Age of Franconian Discant'. Other works of later date
than Discantus Positio Vulgaris are (a) an anonymous MS.
in the British Museum, (b) John Garland's De Musica Men-
surabilis Positio (early i3th century), and (c) Walter Oding-
ton's De Speculation Musicae (late I3th to early I4th cen-
turies). As will be seen later, the principal composers of
whom record exists were French, but it is worth noting
that two of the above theoretical works were by Englishmen.
The advent of measurable music necessarily brought
about changes and developments in notation. It was men-
tioned in Chapter 2 that Guido d'Arezzo's simplification
of the old neumatic notation tended towards our present-
day note-shapes. This tendency was intensified in measur-
able music, though a number of the old specifically neumatic
signs lingered on in use to some extent, becoming gradually
rarer. Even as late as the i8th century the Italian Martini
refers toone kind in a book printed in 1774. The basic
note of measurable music was the Breve (Latin brevis
short), which was also known as a Time'. Longer than
this were the Long (Latin longa) and the Maxim (maxima
greatest) ; shorter were the Semibreve (semibrevis half-short)
and the Minim (minima least). There were, however, com-
plications unknown in our modern, exact system of nota-
tion. A long, for example, might be worth either two or
three breves, and a breve two or three semibreves; the idea of
placing a dot after a note to show that it was divisible into
three equal parts had not yet been thought of. Different
writers, moreover, held varying opinions on such matters.
Petrus de Cruce, one of the few definitely known composers
of the period, seems to have had individual ideas on the
relative values of notes, requiring sometimes as many as seven
semibreves to be sung to a breve. It was not
until the I4th
century that universal clarity and agreement were achieved.

The principal styles of composition in the Age of Fran-
conian Discant were the Cantilena, the Motet, the Conductus
and Organum. Cantilenae included various kinds of dance-
songs mrelais and ballades and many come under the
heading of rondels or rondeaux. The rondel varied in length
from a few bars to something quite extensive, and the same
words were used for all the voices. It seems to have had
some affinity with the later round, in that each of its voice
parts (usually three) was taken by each singer in turn; but
the voices did not begin one after another as in a true
round. All began together, interchanging at the end of
each phrase. There is some doubt, however, as to the exact
construction of a rondel, since contemporary writings, e.g.
those of Odington, are somewhat obscure. The most
notable composer of rondels was Adam de la Hale (c. 1230
to 1287), a tromhe (see Chapter 4).
The most famous of all compositions of the rondel type is
the English Rota (the term is the composer's), Sumer is icumen
in. Unlike other extant rondels, it is a true round, in which
the four upper voices enter in turn, in canon, over a two-
part independent bass which is also canonic. Apart from
its remarkable beauty, it is exceptional in being for six
voices,and the management of the part-writing is much

in advance of other works of the period. It was formerly
supposed to have been written about 1226, but more recent
research places its date at 1280 or later.* Even so, it is
an astounding piece of work. Musicologists have argued for
years on how it could have been written in the 1 3th century,
without coming to any definite conclusion; we do not know,
and probably never shall know, whether its composer was a
freak genius, or whether it is the only surviving example of an
English school which was far in advance of all others. But it
exists, and we may be proud of the fact that it is English.f
* Willi
Apel places it c. 1310.
f Giraldus Cambrensis (1147 to 1320) has some interesting things to
say about part singing in Wales in the i2th century. A useful and
instructive condensation is to be found on p. 128 of Music in Western
Civilisation, by F. H. Lang.
The cantilena was a true 'composition' in that its writer

composed the whole thing. In the motet, however (not to
be confused with that of later times, e.g. the i6th century),
the object was the fitting of one or more known melodies
above the tenor, which part itself was most frequently de-
rived from a fragment of plainsong; so that it was not so
much composition as musical carpentry. It is to be noted
that in the Middle Ages there was a distinction between
the 'inventor' of a melody, who was known as phonascus,
and he who worked with already-existing material, the
symphonetes. The tendency was, oddly enough to us, to rate
the symphonetes higher than the phonascus. In such a work
as a motet the aim of the symphonetes was to fit together
known melodies, merely, to quote Sir Hubert Parry,* 'easing
off the corners and adapting the points where the cacophony
was too intolerable to be endured'.
In the motet the lowest voice, the tenor, took a melody,
normally in long notes, against which the upper voice or
voices 'discanted'. These discants were, as stated above,
known melodies. The tenor part was known as the cantus
firmus or 'fixed song', the tenor being he who 'held' this
cantus Jirmus, from the Latin tenere, to hold.f Tenors were
at first taken from plainsong, and contemporary MSS.
frequently give them
single syllables of fantastic length.
An example quoted in the Oxford History of Music consists,
in modern notation, of some 87 bars of 3/2 time, the tenor
having the one word latus. The syllable la endures for 86
bars, being broken up by rests, so that from the verbal
point of view a mere vocalisation on 'ah' would be equally
effective. Later motets sometimes used instrumental dance
tunes for their tenors, and recent research suggests that
these, as well as those from plainsong, were probably played
on instruments. The upper parts of a motet were not only
* The Art
of Music.
t The use of the term *bass* for the lowest part came later, as an
addition below the tenor. In the period with which we are dealing
the tenor was the lowest part in the score.
carpentered out of known melodies, but also retained their
original words, hence the peculiarity of 'polytextuality',
different words to each voice. In an example in the Oxford
History the two discanting voices each sing different verses
addressed to the Blessed Virgin.* It was a common enough
practice for one or more of the added parts to take a secular
song, as in an example in Discantus Positio Vulgans^ where
the duplum sings a Latin hymn to the Blessed Virgin and
the triplum a French love-song. The result of such unseemly
practices will be seen in due course.
In Organa (plural of organum} both measured and un-
measured music appeared in the course of the same piece.
9
Organum purum ('pure organum ) seems to have designated

the sections which were unmeasured, and was applied solely
to music in two parts. The tenor took a fragment of plain-
song in long notes while the duplum discanted freely above it.
The Conductus avoided the use of ultra-long notes or syl-
lables in the tenor, and tended to be more homophonic in
style than the motet or organum. It appears that some
portions were performed with words and some without

them. The conductus was distinguished by having a tenor
not based on plainsong, though Franco and Odington differ
as to whether it should be made up by the composer or
adapted from some other source.
Mention may also be made of the Hocket, which term
may possibly be derived from 'hiccough'. It was an extra-
ordinary system in which the notes of a melody were alter-
nated between two voices. The reader may care to imagine
the effect of the National Anthem sung as illustrated in Ex. 13.
e
Rocketing has been described by one writer as a cruel

medieval stratagem'. The epithet seems apt!
In the Church services use was made not only of written
works (contrapunctus a penna) but also of improvised discant
(contrapunctus a mente or discantus supra librum). (It may per-
haps be mentioned that the latter practice still survives,
* The
part next above the tenor was called duplum or motetus. A third
part was the triplum, and a fourth the quadruplum.
9
though with a secular connotation, in the 'jam sessions

of certain dance musicians.) The choirman who impro-
vised his discant above the plainsong cantus firmus was sup-
posed to follow out certain definite rules, but it would seem
that singers had changed but little since Guido voiced his
bitter complaint in De Ignoto Cantu (see p. 28) . The theorist
Jacob of Liege inveighs similarly in his Speculum Musicae
Ex. 13
God our -tious

^
save gx& Queen.
(1321).* He begins by referring mildly to the 'impudence*

of singers who know nothing of the nature of consonance,
goes on to castigate 'mutilation, curtailment and corrup-
tion' of the song, and finally boils over with the statement
that the singers 'howl, shriek and bark like a dog'. Even
in the I2th century, in the early days of discant, John of
Salisbury (c. 1115 to 1180) states categorically that 'music
defiles the service of religion*, and many other writers de-
plore, often inunmeasured terms, the practices which had

arisen.']' For a time the musicians persisted in .their un-
seemly conduct, but by the beginning of the I4th century
the patience of the Church authorities was exhausted, and
in 1 324/25 Pope John XXII promulgated a Bull calculated
to bring them to their senses. The essential substance of
this pronouncement was: 'Stop desecrating the plainsong.'
Without being quite so outspoken as John of Salisbury or
Jacob of Liege, the Pope made it quite clear that florid
discanting above the plainsong was to cease, under pain
* Until
recently this work was attributed to the Norman Johannes
de Muris.
t Singers seem to have tended to get out of hand from the earliest
times; see the remark on Ambrose's reforms, p. 26.
of 'suspension from of eight days', and that the only
office
permissible discant was the old parallel organum of the

time of Otger. So potent was this prohibition that even
in 14083 over eighty years later, florid discant on plainsong
was still forbidden at Notre Dame in Paris, where it had
first flourished.
The outcome of all this will be dealt with in Chapter 5,
but it may be well to mention here a theory which has
been current for long enough, but of which the authen-
ticity is more than doubtful. According to this theory, the
singers, having perforce returned to parallel organum, re-
sorted to what has been called 'an artifice of the most
ingenious and subtle kind'. Between the two parallel lines
of organum at the 5th were inserted 3rds, making complete
triads, though we are not told who was responsible for this
innovation, nor exactly when it first appeared. To avoid
a mere series of parallel triads in root position the plain-
song, written below the organal parts, was assigned to the
highest voice, who automatically sang it an octave above
its written
pitch, producwgfauxbourdon, or 'false bass'. Thus
a series of pleasant-sounding first inversions resulted, as
opposed to the allegedly crude progression of root positions.
One writer calls this 'a picturesque story of uncertain
origin', which would seem to be an apt description, since
there are extant examples of parallel first inversions dating
from about 1300, i.e. before the appearance of the famous
Bull. In any case, no real proof of this theory of the origin
offauxbourdon has ever been produced. It has already been
made clear that in compositions based on plainsong, that
plainsong the basic foundational melody was in the
lowest part. But composers eventually discovered the
pleasing effect of putting the melody in the highest part,
9
so that the lowest, the 'bourdon or bass, thus became
9
'false .
The principal known composers of the period with which

we have been dealing, as apart from the theorists, are Adam
de la Hale, Leonin, P6rotin and Petrus de Cruce. Adam
mentioned. Leonin, also known

de la Hale has already been
by the Latinised form of his name, Leoninus, lived in the
and officiated at the cathedral of Notre Dame
1 2th century
Perotin (c. 1 183 to 1236),
in Paris.* He was succeeded by
instrumental in im-
who apart from his compositions, was
notation. He is also known as Perotinus Magnus
pro4ig
(Perotin the Great),
and is especially noteworthy as being,
first to write for three or four voices,
i.e.
apparently, the
to a cantusfirmus. Lfonin,
adding two or three organal parts
Organi ('Great Book
Liber of Organum'),
in his Magnus
undertook the composition of polyphonic settings of the
which
Mass 'Propers' (see p. 34) for the liturgical year,
Petrus
were later revised and supplemented by P^rotin.f
born at Amiens
de Cruce is a somewhat shadowy figure
in the second half of the 1 3th century.
Besides the work of these men, a certain
amount of music
are unknown, and whose
survives of which the composers
dates can only be fixed by the style of com-
approximate
position and the notation and writing in the manuscripts.
A composer would write, say, a motet simply for use in the
church at which he officiated. He would not necessarily
art of
sign it, and
it would not be published, since the
had not been invented. So the music, written
printing yet
for purely local use, would quite possibly
remain buried
in the library of the church concerned, and having fallen
never see the of day until some
into disuse might light
hundreds of later, when unearthed by
a igth-century
years
musicologist.
As to the effect of the music itself, it is unfortunate that
* The an anonymous MS. of the time calls him optimus

writer of
from which it has been deduced that he was
renowned as an
orsanista,
This is incorrect. An organista was a writer of organa, while
organist. L&min s fame
an organ player seems to have been known as orgamtor.
therefore rests on his compositions. Organs were still in a very
rudimentary state.
to undertake such a huge task was
tThe only other composer
his Chorafa Constanttnus,
Heinrich Isaac, some three centuries later, in
certain sections. William Byrd (1543 to
though he consistently omits
of movements in his GradudLia (1605 to 1607).
1623) also set a number
opportunities of hearing
it
performed are extremely rare,
though recordings are available. The mere silent

reading
of it
conveys no true impression, while playing examples
on the piano is
equally unilluminating. On paper it
tends to appear crude and experimental, but in actual
performance it has an odd attractiveness and beauty of its
own, quite unlike the music of any other period, It well
repays any effort made to hear it sung.
Attention was drawn above to the fact that some of the
most noted theorists of the time were Englishmen. Little,
however, is known of English composers, and the most im-
portant school of composition was centred on Paris, During

the lath to the isth centuries the influence of the University
of Paris was supreme in Europe, on both intellectual and
artistic
development. Of the Parisians, Leonin and Perotin
are the most important representatives, We shall see in
later chapters how the leadership in music passed, at various
times, from one nation to another. It is, perhaps, worth
remembering that the Germans, who produced most of the

greatest musicians
in the i8th and igth centuries, were
actually the last to enter the field,
RECORDS
EM.S,Vol,2.Nos. i6toio.
CHAPTER FOUR
EARLY SECULAR MUSIC
UR study so far has dealt almost entirely with music
I I used in the Church, for the reasons already stated,
><_>/ that since so little of the secular music survives, it
is mainly in sacred music that we can trace growth and
development. But as in any other age, songs and dance

tunes abounded, though the composers are rarely known.
Dances of the I3th and I4th centuries are generically
known as Estampm. They are sectional in construction,
each section being immediately repeated, but with a dif-
ferent ending. There is, naturally, strongly marked metri-
cal rhythm, and the use of duple time is not uncommon.
Phrase lengths vary considerably, mixtures of three, four
and six bars being frequent. Cadence points are dearly
defined and there is a feeling for shape and design, in some
cases even suggesting the idea of a rondo.
Mention has already been made of the antiquity of the
term jongleur. Anglicised into "juggler' it came to imply a
body of public entertainers which included conjurers, acro-
bats, etc., and as early as the loth century jongleurs were
divided into two classes, the 'jugglers', who were looked
upon with disfavour by the Church, and the jongleurs de
gestes. These latter came from Provence and Picardy; they
sang, or rather chanted, narrative poems (gestes) recounting
heroic deeds, which seem to have been long and musically
dull. Their love songs, however, were often of considerable
poetic and musical value.

At the end of the nth century began the age of the
Troubadours. These were southern French poet-musicians,
and with them may be associated their central and northern
French counterparts the Trouvhes, who appeared rather
later. Both died out as the age of chivalry decayed to-
wards the beginning of the I4th century. The names
9 9
'troubadour and 'trouvere have identical meanings, i.e.
the 'finder' or inventor of a melody. The etymological
root of both is the French verb trouver, to find. There is
a clear connection here with the distinction between phon-
ascus and symphonetes mentioned on p. 45. The troubadour
or trouvere was of the phonascus or inventing variety.
Many of their poems survive, but only a much smaller pro-
portion of the music. (Grove states that the words of over
2,500 troubadours' songs are extant, but only 259 of their
melodies.) Both troubadours and trouveres were notable
for the cultivation of lyric poetry, which they developed
to a high pitch of beauty and refinement, many of the
poems being devoted to a rather mannered idealisation of

woman.
The of the troubadour and trouvere was
social standing
above that of the jongleur.The latter was in any case a
professional entertainer, and might be a welcome guest in
court or monastery. The troubadour or trouvere might
himself be of noble birth, exercising his art not as a pro-
fessional but rather as a gifted amateur. Richard I of Eng-
land was a troubadour, and Thibaut, King of Navarre,
a trouvere. The jongleur9 whatever his standing, was found
in all parts of Europe; troubadours and trouveres were con-
fined to those parts where the Provengale tongue was spoken,
{.*.France, northern Spain and northern Italy.
Oneof tie most notable trouveres was Adam de la Hale.
Besides composing such works as those mentioned in Chap-
ter 3, he also wrote some entertainments which are some-
times stated to be the precursors of the French opera-comique.
Of these, the most important is Le Jeu de Robin et Marion,
a 'dramatic pastoral'. It is divided into scenes like a play,
and its anticipation of optra-comique is seen in the way in
which the dialogue is interspersed with airs, etc.
Such music of troubadours and trouveres as has survived
is purely melodic, and the manuscripts do not indicate the
EARLY SECULAR MUSIC 53
method of accompaniment, though it seems certain that

some kind of instrumental support was improvised on the
vielle orfedeL This was a crude kind of fiddle (which term
obviously derives from the old name) with a flat bridge,
so that the player could hardly avoid sounding at least
two notes simultaneously. From which it may be deduced
that the accompaniments were of a harmonic character;
they were certainly not polyphonic. While some of the
melodies are modal in character, others are clearly based
on the major scale the 'wanton' mode so disliked by the
Church. They are written in the contemporary plainsong
notation on a four-line stave. The rhythm of some of the
songs is as free as that of plainsong, but in others there is
clear metrical accentuation, duple time being used as well
as triple.
Almost contemporary with the troubadours were the
German Minnesingers, who flourished in the I2th and i3th
centuries. They, too, were mostly of noble birth and then-
songs dealt chiefly with love. Their art died about the
same time as that of the troubadours. It is perhaps worth
mentioning that their influence reached forward, though
somewhat indirectly, into the igth century, since Wagner's
opera Tannhduser includes a contest of song in which the
protagonists Wolfram von Eschenbach and Tannhauser
himselfwere minnesingers and historical figures. The
plot of Tristan and Isolda is largely based on the story
as
told by the minnesinger Godfrey of Strasburg, and that of
Parsifal on Wolfram von Eschenbach's
version of that
legend. The songs of the minnesingers, like those of their

French counterparts, show the use of the major scale and
duple time.
The art of the troubadours, trouveres and minnesingers
covered a relatively brief period of history, and was very
limited in its range. As has already been noted, it co-
incided with the age of chivalry and ceased when that age
came to an end. In a limited way it is an example of
the effect of a purely social condition on music. But for
the rise of chivalry and all that it implied, the art of these
men would not have arisen and flourished.
Before returning to the development of the main stream
of music, it may be add a sketch of the work of the
well to
German Meistersingers.They were a kind of middle-class
parallel to the noble minnesingers, and functioned as a
guild, comparable in its structure to the various trade guilds
of the late Middle Ages, members passing through the usual
stages of apprentice, journeyman and master. The first of
these guilds was founded in 1311 at Mainz by Heinrich
von Meissen, and the movement flourished from the i4th
to the i yth centuries. Unlike those of the minnesingers,
the songs of the meistersingers were mostly on Biblical
themes, and their construction was subject to an accepted
code of rigid rules. The most famous meistersinger was
Hans Sachs, who lived in the i6th century. He is intro-
duced as one of the principal characters in Wagner's music
drama The Mastersingers of Nuremberg, the well-known 'dawn
song' in the third act being a setting of one of his poems.
RECORDS
H.M.S. Vol. 2, Nos. 14 and 15.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE 'NEW ART 5
AND ITS DEVELOPMENT

the same way as the year 1050 forms a rough
dividing line between the old and the new organum,
IN so also the year 1300 approximately separates an old
style from a new one. By the end of the i3th century the
principles of measurable music were fully established, but
the whole conception of the system was too rigid to last.
Real development was not possible within the constricting
influence of the rhythmic modes, and papal interdiction
regarding the treatment of plainsong could not restrain
musicians from further experiment. We find, therefore,
that from about 1300 the rhythmic modes tend to fall into
disuse and a far freer attitude to rhythm begins to appear.
There is also improved shapeliness of melodic line and
greater independence in the part-writing.
There can be little doubt that the work of the troubadours
and trouveres had some effect on polyphonic music, as re-
gards both melodic style and freedom of rhythm. have We
seen that the troubadours did not confine themselves to
triple measure, and it is from about 1300 that duple time
appears in polyphonic compositions. It is first mentioned
in a treatise by Odington about 1280, and its introduction
was inevitably the beginning of the end of the rhythmic
modes which were essentially based on triple time and
nothing else. Composition in accordance with these new
ideas became known as Ars Nova the 'New Art' in con-
c 9
trast to Ars Antigua Old Art
the Ars Nova, despite its
*
name, was not, however, an actual 'invention', but rather a

development from Ars Antiqua which, as stated above, had
reached a point where changes and modifications were
inevitable.
The first theorist to expound the principles of the New
Art was Philippe de Vitry (c. 1285 to 1361), whose work
Ars Nova gives detailed instructions on the new rhythmic
ideas. He deals with the use of binary rhythms and their
notation, treating them as accepted facts rather than as

mere theoretical possibilities. So that, like Guido and
Franco, he explained what was already more or less common
practice among composers. Very briefly therhythmic sys-
tem may be described as follows. In Ars Antiqua the long
was worth three breves, the breve three semibreves, and
the semibreve three minims. In Ars Nova the long in 'Per-
9
fect Mode' was worth three breves, but in 'Imperfect Mode
9
only two. In 'Perfect Time the breve was worth three

semibreves and in 'Imperfect Time' two. Similarly, in
9
'Perfect Prolation the semibreve divided into three minims,
9
and in 'Imperfect Prolation into two. Perfection or im-
perfection of mode, time and prolation were indicated by
a complex system of signs of which two still remain in occa-
sional use, viz. C and $, though their original meanings
no longer hold good. It is at this time, too, that the dot,
indicating subdivisibility into three, first appears. A note
9
divisible into three equal parts was 'perfect and the dot
9
was therefore sometimes called the 'point of perfection .
But such a dot appeared in the time-signature, not after
the note as nowadays. Time-signatures were inevitably
complicated, since they had to show mode, time and pro-
lation, and whether each was perfect or imperfect, with
a series of separate signs. Thus, if mode and time were
perfect and prolation imperfect, the composer would place
after the clef the signs CD, O and G- The first indicated
perfect mode, the long dividing into three breves; the second
perfect time, each of these breves dividing into three semi-
breves; and the third imperfect prolation, each semibreve
dividing into two minims. This is comparable, allowing
for the difference in the names of the notes, to 9/8 time.
The whole-bar sound:
THE 'NEW ART' AND ITS DEVELOPMENT 57
divides into three:
IJ. J.J.I
Each of these also divides into three:
and each of these into two:
A further notational complication was the use of different

coloured notes to show temporary changes from perfect to
imperfect mode, etc., or vice versa, red being the most usual.
To the singer who was accustomed to it, this system may
have been logical and simple enough, but unfortunately
the red notes might indicate something entirely unconnected
with time. De Vitry states that 'another use of red notes is
to enjoin singing at the octave in the passages in which
5
they occur , citing some specific examples. Singers may

at one time have been 'the most fatuous of all men', but
they certainly needed to have their wits about them in the
I4th century!
Of other contemporary theorists mention may be made
of the Franciscan Simon Tunsted (d. c. 1369), who wrote
a treatise codifying the principles of Ars Nova, De Muris
(Ars Novae Musicae), and Jacob of Liege, who, apart from
his strictures on singers, tended to oppose the new methods
in his Speculum Musicae. Jacob seems to have looked back
to the 'good old days' of Franconian discant and although
neither he nor anyone else could halt the progress of the
new ideas, he may perhaps have exerted some restraining
influence.
The outstanding composer in France during this period
was Guillaume de Machaut (c. 1300 to 1377), who has
been described as the first practical exponent of the Ars
Nova of de Vitry. He wrote a large number of secular
works, generically known as cantilenae, as well as some
twenty-three motets. Especially notable is his four and five
voice setting of the Ordinary of the Mass the oldest exist-
ing setting apart from the anonymous three-part Messe de
Tournai. Duple measure is common in his work, and within
it he is apt to indulge in remarkably complex rhythmic
combinations. In his setting of the Mass, as in the motets,

Machaut seems to have paid scant attention to the papal
Bull mentioned in Chapter 3. In the Mass the tenor takes
a plainsong part in notes of variable but strictly moderate
length, while the upper voices discant more or less freely.
Especially notable is the use of a basic motive, appearing in
one guise or another in all the sections, binding the whole
work together. In the motets Machaut adopts a severely
conservative attitude, even to the use of secular songs for
the discants above the long-note plainsong tenor.*
The cantilenae include ballades, rondeaux, chansons and lais.
Each of these had its own peculiarities of construction, and
in them that we see not only the freer rhythmic methods
it is
of Ars Nova, but also the more shapely melodic style which
gradually developed, replacing the angularity of Ars Antiqua.
It that as a symphonetes Machaut was ingenious
may be said
and technically competent; as a phonascus .he showed his
genuine inventiveness and musicianship. Some of his 'mono-
9
phonic lais simple unharmonised songs have all the fresh-

ness and attractiveness of French folk-song at its best. In
his polyphonic compositions there is notably greater ease in
the management of the part-writing. The use of discord
* A
hundred years after Machaut com-
Polytextuality died hard.
posers were indulging in the practice of 'telescoping* the words of Mass
movements, so that different sentences were being sung simultaneously,
sometimes in canon. For that matter, the first movement of Bach's
St. Matthew Passion is to some extent polytextual, and there are plenty
of later examples.
ismuch better controlled, and there isoften real expressive-

ness to the 20th-century ear. The old tendency to mere
9
mechanical 'note-spinning in accordance with the accepted
rules is fast vanishing; his music begins to have some real
meaning, in contrast to the artificialities of the immediately
preceding period.
It is in the I4th century that we find the rise of an im-
portant body of composers in Italy. There had been an

Italian school since the time of Guido, but little if anything
survives which was written before about the middle of the
century with which we are dealing. The main centre of
the Italian school was Florence, and the work seems to
have been, at least to some extent, a development of the
art of the troubadours, since it reached a high level of
accomplishment in accompanied song. Polyphonic writ-

ing was, of course, cultivated, a notable feature of it being
the frequent use of canonic, or at least imitative writing.
Neither imitation nor canon were new inventions; occa-
sional instances of the former appear, rather casually, in
works of the I3th century, while Sumer is icumen in is, as we
have already seen, strictly canonic. However, in the
works of the 14th-century Italians both devices begin to
assume more and more importance as unifying factors of
construction. Passages in imitation are introduced with
evident intention rather than haphazardly, while strict
canon is sometimes employed for a whole section of a
movement. It is in the madrigals,* secular polyphonic
songs, that canon and imitation chiefly appear, and it is
noteworthy that in them the melody is in the upper part
a characteristic which distinguishes them very markedly
from other works, both Italian and French, with the melody
in the tenor. Madrigals were mostly written for two voices
and, like many other Italian forms, were not based on a
* The
madrigals have no connection with those of the i6th century.
In the 1 5th century the use of the term madrigal for a musical composition
fell into disuse; it survived, with its variants madriale and mandriale, in
connection with lyric poetry, coming back into musical use early in
the 1 6th century.
6o A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
They were, that is to say, true
pre-selected cantus firmus.
compositions; the day of the symphonetes was beginning to
draw to a close. The possibility of some instrumental
accompaniment to the madrigal was not excluded.
The use of duple measure as well as triple was general,
and is sometimes attributed to the influence of Italian
folk-music. It is also possible that such types of composi-
tion as the Ballata, for simultaneous singing and dancing,
had not inconsiderable influence, its rhythmic scheme, as
compared with that of the madrigal, being simpler and
more obviously of a metrically regular kind.
been suggested by some that the introduction of
It has
duple time into France may have been due to the trans-
ference of the papal see to Avignon in 1309, since Italian
musicians would naturally be among the staff of the papal
court; but this cannot be stated with any certainty, and in
any case we know that as early as 1280 Odington refers to
duple measure.
The most notable Florentine composer was Francesco di
Landini (c. 1325 to 1397), who, though blind, had a high
reputation as organist and lutenist. Others were Jacopo
da Bologna and Giovanni da Giscia.
Little is known of English compositions of the i4th cen-
tury. Music in this country has evolved in a distinctly

spasmodic fashion, and after the surprising eruption of
Sumer is icumen in, whether it is an isolated phenomenon or
the sole surviving work of a flourishing school, a period of
relative stagnation set in. Manuscripts of the period are,
unfortunately, scarce, but it would seem that while com-

posers in France and Italy were achieving mastery of the
methods of Ars Nova, English musicians were content to
pay homage to the traditions of the isth century. Another
sudden eruption, in the person of John Dunstable, took
place in the first half of the isth century, after which there
was another period when the lead passed to other countries.
The second half of the i6th century saw the swift and amaz-
ing rise of the English madrigalists possibly the greatest
THE 'NEW ART AND 3
ITS DEVELOPMENT 61
period in the whole story of our music followed by a

decline which was broken by the solitary and unpredict-
able genius Henry Purcell in the latter part of the zyth
century. After Purcell, almost complete decay until almost
the beginning of the present century. Other countries in
Europe have passed through peak periods and periods of
decline, but in none, perhaps, have the former been so
brief and the latter so long and dismal.
Before dealing with the work of Dunstable and his suc-
cessors, some mention must be made of what is known as
Musica Ficta or 'False Music We have seen, in Chapter 2,
9
.
that to avoid the unacceptable tritone F to B the 'soft B*,

B flat, was admitted. The practice of the chromatic altera-
tion of notes gradually extended, and as early as the first
quarter of the i3th century the Englishman John Garland
refers to itunder the heading of Error tertii soni error of
the third sound. The exact meaning of this term is ob-
scure, and Garland's explanations and examples are not
altogether enlightening.* It is nevertheless clear that in
his time there were certain rules regarding the sharpening
and both in plainsong and in discants.
flattening of notes,
Nothing was, however, indicated in the written music, and
it was left to the performer to apply the system according
to the rules with which he was supposed to be familiar.

9
In the Ars Contrapuncti ('The Art of Counterpoint ),
treatise
ascribed to de Vitry, chromatic alteration is accepted and
explained as common practice under the title ofmusicaficta,
and de Muris, in his Ars Discantus, formulates simple and
exact rules for its application. By 1320 chromatic altera-
tion of any note of the scale was admitted. It has already
been explained that the character of a mode depended on
the position of the semitones in relation to the final; with
musica ficta semitones might appear almost anywhere in a
* It is a rather
peculiar fact that the early theorists, even as late as
the 1 6th century, seem continuously to have had great difficulty in
expressing themselves with ease and clarity, at least according to 20th-

century ideas.
6a A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
melody, so that the individual characteristics of its mode
tended gradually to disappear. The modes eventually
condensed into two main types those with a major 3rd
above the final, and those with a minor 3rd. Hence,
ultimately, our major and minor scales, whose use as the
normal basis for composition became finally stabilised
about the beginning of the i8th century.
We now return to the general development of music.
The work of the composers of the late I4th century shows
increasing ease and fluency of treatment. Discord is used
in a less casual fashion, and there are fewer corners which
9
seem to need 'easing off . It is in the isth century, how-
ever, that we feelmore rapid and definite progress, and
the first outstanding figure is the Englishman John Dun-
stable (c. 1370 to 1453).
He is sometimes credited with
the 'invention' of composition, apparently implying that
he was the first to dispense with the use of a cantus Jirmus,
but this suggestion is highly debatable. Leaving aside such
things as the monophonic lais of Machaut, and the early
dance tunes, we have already seen that the polyphonic
madrigals of the 14th-century Italians were true composi-
tions not depending on the weaving of discants against
some pre-selected melody.
Dunstable was the acknowledged leader of a school of
English composers who flourished in the first half of the
I5th century, his most important contemporary being Lionel
Power. The work of this school seems to have been done
mainly on the Continent, where their reputation stood high
and where, in various important libraries, their composi-
tions have mostly been found. Dunstable's name, in par-
ticular, was highly honoured among continental musicians,
and the poet Martin le Franc, writing before 1450, claims
that the excellence of the contemporary French composers
Dufay (1400 to 1474) and Binchois (c. 1400 to 1467) is due
to theirhaving followed Dunstable's lead. A little later,
new art ... whose fount
the theorist Tinctoris refers to 'a
and origin is held to be among the English, of whom
THE 'NEW ART AND 1
ITS DEVELOPMENT 63
Dunstable stood forth as chief. The principal character-

istics of Dunstable's style were suavity and shapeliness of
melodic line, easily singable phrases, and harmonisation

largely based on triads. While passing discord is still used
at times with some freedom, there are far fewer awkward
clashes than in the work of his predecessors. The tradi-
tional method of the voices pursuing almost entirely inde-
pendent melodic paths between initial and final concords,

which still survived in Machaut, had begun to disappear
rapidly in the madrigals of Landini and his school, and in
Dunstable but little of it remains. Although the ideas of
chords as such, and of chord-progression, had not yet
entered the minds of composers, such a work as Dunstable's
accompanied song Rosa Bella shows quite clearly that
some such conceptions lay in the not far distant future.
Apart from his facility in writing mellifluous music,
Dunstable was far from deficient in mechanical ingenuity.
He made occasional use of points of imitation, and was
one of the first to indulge in the concoction of musical
puzzles, an occupation which was taken to extremes by

some of his continental successors. Such puzzles various
methods of devising canons often had but little musical
value, but the practice of them certainly increased com-
posers' technique and helped them to an assured and
confidentmanagement of contrapuntal devices.
Dunstable's compositions include both sacred and secular
works, and he is noteworthy as being the first to cultivate
the motet as a free composition to a liturgical text. He
discarded both the old long-note cantusfirmus and the mixed
text, giving the same words to all the voices, and laying the
foundations of a form which reached its peak in the works
of such composers as Palestrina and Victoria a century later.
With the death of Dunstable in 1453 the lead in music
passed to the Burgundian school, of which the principal
representatives are Gulielmus Dufay and Gilles Binchois.
These men began by writing in the style of the preceding
generation, with a good deal of not particularly attractive
melody and arbitrary and uncontrolled discord. But the
influence of Dunstable was strongly felt, and in the later
works of Dufay especially 'we recognise, unmistakably, the
suave and flowing melody in the separate parts, the pure
harmony of the whole, the agreeable phrasing, the pro-
priety in the sequence of the continued sounds, which we
noticed as characteristic of the compositions of our own
countrymen in the foreign collections during this period'.*
Dufay, possibly earlier than anyone else, realised clearly

the possibilities of canon as a unifying device, and in his
Masses he made considerable use of it. He was also a
9
deviser of 'puzzle canons , introducing them at times into
Mass movements. His fondness for fauxbourdon move-
ment in parallel first inversions may also be mentioned
as suggesting the dawning of a feeling for harmonic pro-
gression. It is from Dufay's time that the use of secular
cantos fami for Masses begins. The tune, or part of it,
would be given to the tenor, not necessarily in its original
note-values, and possibly decorated, while the other voices
wove counterpoints against it. This practice sounds rather
likea return to the unseemliness of the 13th-century motets,
but was not really so. The melodies used as cantus fami
were usually old and the words no longer in use. More-
over, they were so covered up by the surrounding counter-
point as to be almost, if not entirely, unidentifiable by the
ear. They served, in fact, merely as a framework on which
the composer could build. Possibly the most famous of
secular cwtusfami was the song Uhomme arme.
Compositions of the i4th and isth centuries are often
regarded as having been written purely for unaccompanied
vocal performance, but this is an error. Missing voice-
parts might well be supplied by instruments, and the purely
instrumental performance of works written for voices was
accepted as a regular practice. The incorporation of inde-
pendent instrumental parts into vocal works was common,
as in Dufay's great motet Ecclesiae Militantis, which include!
*
Wooldridge, in the Oxford History of Music.
two such instrumental lines, with symbolic meanings. It is

not until we reach the i6th century that we encounter the
pureacappella, Le. the essentially unaccompanied vocal style.
It is in the time of Dufay that we find the rise of what is
called choral polyphony. Until about the middle of the
1
5th century was customary for polyphonic movements
it
motets, mass movements, etc. to be sung by a group of

soloists, the full choir taking part only in the plainsong.
But various manuscripts from about 1440 onwards dearly
distinguish passages of polyphony to be sung by soloists
from others to be taken by the chorus.
In the work of the Burgundians, as in those of the 14th-
century Italians, there was considerable emphasis on secular
compositions ballades, rondeaux, chansons but there is no
particular distinction between sacred and secular styles.
Dufay, especially, achieves a balance between the two, so
that on the whole music set for secular words might serve
equally well for sacred ones and vice versa. In the ensuing
generation, which saw the foundation of the
Netherlands
school of composers, the emphasis is rather on sacred music.
This change of attitude may possibly be due to the ending
of the papal exile at Avignon and the consequent healthier
state of the Church. Whatever the underlying cause, the
Netherlander' best work is, on the whole, that written for
liturgical use.
The first important names of the Flemish (Netherlands)
school are Johannes Okeghem (c. 1430 to c. 1495), Jacob
Obrecht (1430 to 1505) and Anton Busnois (d. 1492). The
great theorist of the time was Joannes Tinctoris (c. 1446 to
1511), whose writings, while of no great originality, explain
the current technical methods. Okeghem for long had a
reputation for almost fiendish contrapuntal ingenuity, and
there is no doubt that he explored the possibilities of com-
plicated canonic writing to an extent hitherto undreamed
of. But study of his works reveals that his technique was
really only a means to an end, that end being musical ex-
pressiveness. Among his outstanding technical feats may
be mentioned a canon for thirty-six voices. Like so many
of his contemporaries, he wrote a Mass on Uhomme arme.
Obrecht's style is on the whole rather less florid than
that of Okeghem, employing shorter phrases and more
clearly defined cadence points. He was one of the real
founders of the technique of imitative counterpoint, which
was the basis of the style of the i6th century, and was also
a writer of instrumental pieces. The serious cultivation of
purely instrumental works dates from his time, and his out-
put of them was considerable. Busnois learned from his
teacher Okeghem the technique of imitation and, like
Obrecht, may be considered as one of the founders of the
16th-century style.
Ageneration later appeared Heinrich Isaac (c. 1450 to
1517), one of the first of the Flemish school to seek a liveli-
hood in Italy. The brilliant courts of the Florentine princes in
this, the Renaissance period, offered far greater opportunities
to any artist than did those in the Low Countries, and for
the next hundred years there was a continual move from
the Netherlands of musicians in search of wealthy patrons
farther south. Isaac's career is typical. In Florence he
served Lorenzo dei Medici; in 1496 he entered the service
of the Emperor Maximilian, being appointed court com-
poser at Innsbruck. In 1502 he returned to Florence,
where most of the rest of his life was spent. His greatest
work, the Ckoralis Constantinus (see p. 49), occupied him for
many years, and shows that the imitative style was rapidly
becoming the fundamental basis of choral composition.
Although much of Isaac's work is of a relatively straight-
forward character, he occasionally indulges in extraordin-
arily complicated rhythmic combinations, which would tax
the capabilities of even the most reliable of performers.
More than Obrecht and Busnois, his use of discord is strictly
controlled. Traces of the old 14th-century traditions are
rare, and there are evident signs of the formation of what
might be called an early academic outlook. His style shows,
too, an increasing tendency to harmonic approach through
the triad, already noted as traceable in the work of Dun-

and four-part writing, established
stable; as normal by
Okeghem and Obrecht, is usual.
Almost exactly contemporary with Isaac is Josquin des
Pr& (1450 to 1521). He was Okeghem's greatest pupil,
and was in many ways the finest musician of his genera-
tion. Like Isaac, he travelled southwards, serving a num-
ber of different masters. From Okeghem he learned, with
Busnois, the artifices of contrapuntal technique, even sur-
passing his teacher in his ability to invent and solve the
most complex problems. The exercise of this mechanical
ingenuity gave him a complete command of his material,
a command which he used in both sacred and secular com-
3
positions to 'bring off contrapuntal feats

in a natural and
convincing manner. With Josquin more than with his pre-
decessors technique was a means to an end, and while some
of his most musically interesting works are also exceedingly
complex, in later secular pieces he often writes in a simpler
style and achieves really amazing expressiveness.
He was
equally great as a composer of both sacred and secular
music, and was described by the German musicologist

Ambros as 'the first musician who impresses us as having
genius'.
Another contemporary of Isaac was Pierre de la Rue
(d. 1518). Although the greater part of his work still
remains in manuscript, he appears to have attained very
considerable technical mastery of the intricacies of canon.
A little later is Jean Mouton (c. 1475 to 1522), an eminent
the teacher of Adrian
pupil of Josquin, and himself possibly
Willaert, one of the great figures of the next generation.
Mouton had great ability and was highly esteemed in his
time.
In England after the death of Dunstable music tended
to languish, but around the turn of the century we find a
school of composers who seem to have deliberately held
apart from the methods prevailing
on the continent, in a
rather reactionary manner. Although the effect of their
music is agreeable enough, and the arbitrary use of dis-
cord is rare, interest in contrapuntal devices is lacking;
there is smooth and equable flow of the parts, but little
more. The principal composers of this school were Robert
Fayrfax (d. 1521), Richard Davy (end of I5th to early
1 6th centuries) 9 William Gornyshe (c. 1465 to 1523) and
Richard Sampson (c, 14.70 to 1554). Davy is notable as

being the first Englishman definitely known to have set the
'Passion* of Christ in harmonised form. The traditional
recitation of the Passion in Holy Week dates from as far back
as the 4th century, and by the i2th it was sung with a fairly
complex ritual. Obrecht is sometimes said to have pro-
duced a four-part setting, but the authorship is doubtful.
RECORDS
H.M.S. Vol. 2, No. 19 and Vol. 3, Nos. 20 to 30.
CHAPTER SIX
VOCAL MUSIC
IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY
outstanding features of the i6th century are
the culmination of polyphonic sacred music,
THE (a)
(b) the rise and development of the madrigal in

the brief but brilliant work of the English madri-
Italy, (c)
galists, (d)the effects of the Reformation, and (e) the rise

of instrumental music. The first four of these will be dealt
with in the order given; instrumental music will be con-
sidered in a separate chapter.
In the work of such composers as Isaac and Josquin the
contrapuntal technique of the Flemish school had reached
a high level of competence, and was applied to the pro-
duction of music of real expressiveness. The great writers
of the 1 still greater competence and
6th century attained
expressiveness in their Masses and motets, the highest
achievements being in the works of Palestrina, Victoria,
Lassus and Byrd.
The motet, of which the post-Machaut foundations had
been laid by Dunstable, and strengthened by Dufay and
his successors, now assumed very great importance. In the
structural principles are
truly polyphonic motet the general
as follows. Each successive phrase of words is introduced
9
by a 'point of imitation' or 'fugue ,* the voices entering

one after another with the same melodic figure, though
not necessarily at the same pitch. This figure is used, ^
generally with a good deal of

word repetition, to build up
a complete 'section'. Each section concludes with a cadence,
* See Ex. 1 6 for an illustration. Note also that this technique of
of the i6th
imitation important not only as a structural method
is
century, but also as the ultimate origin

of the fugue, which reached its
climax of perfection in the- hands of Bach.
and as a rule the figure for the ensuing point of imitation
arises within that cadence, so that the sections are inter-
locked. Thus a continuous contrapuntal web of sound is
created. Motets were written for from three to eight voices,

though there are occasional freak examples such as Thomas
Tallis's Spem in alium for forty voices, arranged in eight five-
part choirs. Tallis was not the only 16th-century com-

poser to attempt a task of such magnitude and complexity,
but he was the only one to succeed in producing real music
under such conditions.
Motets were not, however, always and entirely contra-
puntal in texture; there were two other common methods
of procedure. One is almost entirely chordal, with little,
if any, really independent movement of the voices. Victoria's
Ave Verum Corpus and Palestrina's Bone Jesu are good ex-
amples. The other kind lies between the purely polyphonic
and the chordal. It is based not so much on imitative
technique as on the contrasting of varying groups of voices
within the choir, which would consist of not fewer than
five voices. There is relatively little use of the full choir,
but variation in the combinations used is exploited to the
limit a kind of vocal orchestration. Palestrina's Tu es
Petrus is an example of this type of motet, and the same
method is used with great effectiveness in Byrd's five-part
Mass. In longer motets the three styles may be found used
for different sections. A noteworthy point about the chordal
type of motet is that it shows an increasing feeling for

chords and chord-progression as such. In the polyphonic
works of the period it may be said that the chords arise
from the interweaving of simultaneous melodic and rhyth-
mic lines; conceived horizontally and the
the texture is
chord-progressions are, as were, incidental. But in such

it
a work as Ave Verum Corpus it seems evident that Victoria

must have been thinking in terms of chords as chords, an
attitude of mind which from now on assumes increasingly
great importance. The same attitude is clearly evident in
such a passage as the opening of Palestrina's Stabat Mater:
VOCAL MUSIC IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY 71
j\ i
Ex. 14
The basic material for Masses and motets was often taken
from plainsong. The use of the secular cantus ftrmus for
masses was rapidly dying out. Early in his career, Palestrina
wrote some Masses on secular cantus firmi, including two on
Uhomme arme, but of his total of ninety-three, only a very
few are based on such material. The Council of Trent, in
1563, severely criticised the use of the secular cantus firmus,
as well as the undue complexity and length of Masses, and
composers found it expedient to follow the lead given by
Palestrina in his Missa Papae Marcelli, written after the
Council's decree and in accordance with its views. The
method of using a cantus ftrmus had changed since the time
of Dufay. Instead of being employed primarily as a melodic
line around which counterpoints were woven, it was now
broken up into its constituent phrases, and points of imita-
tion were worked out based on these phrases. Undue repeti-
tion of words was generally avoided. A simple example of
this method of writing is provided in Palestrina's Missa
Regina Coeli. The melody from which it takes its title is:
Ex. 15
tTTRe - !
- na
^
cae - li lae - ta - re, Al - - lu - a me -
gi le ia; Qui quern
min - i - sti por - ta - re, Al - le - lu - ia ; Re -sur - rex - it, si - cut
dix-it, Al-le - lu -ia: -ra pro no -bis De-urn; Al-le-lu - ia.

The brackets show the various sections which are used as
themes in the mass. The opening of the Sanctus is based
on the first phrase:
Ex. 16
/, San
U M
J J^ JJ J J- J
^ J.IJ L
,*
i
,
Other movements are also based on this phrase and on

the others marked in Ex. 15, thus giving thematic unity
to thewhole work.
Another source of material was used in what is usually
known as the 'parody Mass' (Missa Parodia). In this the
musical themes were borrowed from other compositions,
such as madrigals, motets and chansons, often by other
composers. There seems to have been a sort of musical
freemasonry among composers, thematic inventions being
treated largely as common property. When entirely original
material was used, a Mass was often known as Missa Sine
9
Nomine, 'Mass without a name , but some unity was often
achieved by the use of the same material for at least the
openings of some, if not all, of the movements a kind of
5
*motto-theme procedure.*
* Pietro Cerone
(b. c. 1560), in his huge compUation El melopeo y
maestro, goes so far as to insist on some such method, and goes into
considerable detail. 'In composing a Mass, it is perforce necessary and
obligatory that the inventions (i.e. the themes) at the beginnings of the
the Gloria, the Credo, the Sanctus and the Agnus Dei should be
first Kyrie,
one and the same.' Not every contemporary composer seems to have
agreed with him.
The cantusfirmus method outlined above was sometimes

used in motets. Palestrina's Veni Sponsa Christi is a setting
of a verse which the composer splits into four phrases.
Each of the four interlocked sections of the motet is based
on imitative treatment of the relevant phrase of the plain-
song tune associated with the words.
Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina (1525 to 1594) was the
greatest of the Italians, and spent most of his life in Rome.
His technical mastery was consummate, and his music
attains a pitch of serenity which is unsurpassed by any of
his contemporaries. Of the Netherlanders a long list could
be given -Orlande de Lassus (1532 to 1594) and Adrian
Willaert (c. 1485 to 1562) are the most important. Lassus
(also known by the Latinised and Italianised versions of
his name Orlandus Lassus and Orlando di Lasso) was the
greatest of them all, with a European reputation and an

enormous output of music of all kinds. Like so many of
his countrymen he travelled widely, and he was noted for
his use of musica reservata the art of giving dramatic ex-
pression to the words. He is also notable for his use of

chromaticism, a strongly marked characteristic of the Eng-
lish school in the latter part of the century. One of his
greatest and best-known works is the setting of the Seven
Penitential Psalms.
Willaert was the founder of the Venetian school associated
with the cathedral of St. Mark in Venice. St. Mark's pos-
sessed two organs and two choirs, and these resources gave
rise to the composition of works on a grand scale for double
chorus, the two sections acting either antiphonally or in
combination. This type of writing was continued, on an
even grander scale, by Willaert's successors Cipriano da
Rore (1516 to 1565), Andrea Gabrieli (c. 1510 to 1586)
and his nephew Giovanni (1557 to 1612).
It is at this time that Spain first comes clearly into the
musical picture. The long occupation by the Moors had
tended to isolate this country from the rest of Europe, but
their final expulsion in the i6th century, and the union of
the crowns of the Netherlands and Spain under Charles V,
brought about contact and exchange of ideas between
Spanish and Flemish musicians. Works by Josquin were in
the library of Seville Cathedral, and from about 1500 we
find a school of Spanish composers who were basing their
work on the ideas of the Netherlanders. Nicholas Gombert
(c. 1495 to I 56o), a Fleming attached to the court of
Charles V, spent a good deal of time in Spain, and strongly
influenced the Spaniards in the adoption of the northern
technical methods. The two most important members of
the Spanish school were Cristobal Morales (c. 1500 to 1553)
and Tomas Luis de Victoria* (c. 1535 to 1611). Morales
spent part of his life in Rome, and despite his adherence
to Flemish methods managed to retain a good deal of
personal idiom, with an occasional distinctively Spanish
flavour. Of the musicians working in Italy, Victoria is
possibly second only to Palestrina. He lacks the latter's
serenity,but achieves a remarkable degree of mystic fer-
vour. Many of the Spanish musicians wrote but little
secular music; Victoria, possibly rather narrowly religious,
wrote none at all.
We have seen that in England the school of Fayrfax was
but little affected by current continental methods, but early
in the i6th century these methods begin to appear, in
the works of Christopher Tye (c. 1497 to c. 1572), Thomas
Tallis (c. 1505 to 1585) and Robert Whyte (c. 1535 to 1574).
All three showed great competence in the handling of the
imitative style. We
may note especially Tye's Mass on the
popular tune Westron Wynde and his six-part one on Euge
Bone. Tye, began by writing in the style of the
Tallis, like
preceding generation, but gradually acquired the Flemish
technique, his mastery being shown in such motets as Audivi
media nocte and Bone Jesu.
The greatest name in English music of this period one
of the greatest of all time is that of William Byrd, a
* There seems to be no for the use of the Italianised
particular reason
form of his name Vittoria.
remarkably versatile genius who lived from 1543 to 1623.

He excelled in all forms of composition, sacred or secular,
vocal or instrumental. Unlike many of his countrymen, he
did not change his religion at the Reformation, thereby
causing himself a certain amount of inconvenience at various
times in his life.
Although he produced a certain quantity
of music for the Reformed Church, he continued to compose
for the old rite as late as the publication of his two books
of Gradualia in 1605 and 1607. These were collections of
Latin motets which also included a three-part setting of
6
the crowd' parts of the Passion a rather rare production
for an English composer. Byrd's technique was at least
equal to that of any of his continental contemporaries, and
he surpassed them all in intensity of emotional expressive-
ness. His three Masses, for three, four and five voices re-
spectively, are outstanding among the sacred music of the

century, and his reputation was such that one writer dubbed
him 'the Parent of British Music'.
Turning now to the Italian madrigal, we have seen (p. 59)

that compositions with this title were produced in the I4th
century. After the time of Landini the term fell into disuse,
being revived in the early i6th century. By then the tech-
nique of choral composition had developed enormously, and
composers were ready and able to apply the latest methods
to the setting of suitable poems. Such poems were chiefly
of a pastoral or amorous character, with occasional excur-
sions into the unseemly.
In the quarter of the century the Frottola was a
first
common Italian form.It was usually a popular song

treated with some amount of ingenuity, and was often
vulgar and frivolous. The madrigal seems to have been
to some extent a reaction against ihefrottola, of which the
last collectionappeared in 1531. The great Italian littera-
teur Bembo was the leader of a school which cultivated an
aristocratic and rather affected style of poetry, with the
deliberate aim of getting away from the more 'popular'
types. Since composers were attached to courts for
which
thisnew poetry was written, they naturally began to set it
9
to music, and the frottola and similar 'vulgar forms fell
into disuse. The earliest madrigals the first collection of
twenty was published in 1533 under the title Madrigali novi
de diversi excellentissimi musici ('New Madrigals by various
excellent musicians') were for four unaccompanied voices,
the melody being always in the topmost part, and the tex-
ture showing but little contrapuntal ingenuity. Instru-
mental accompaniment, whether to the top part as a solo,
or in combination with all the voices, was, however, an
accepted practice. It should be understood that the mad-
rigal was music-making; public concerts were
for domestic
still The most notable of the earliest
far in the future.
composers were the Roman Constanzo Festa (d. 1545)

and the expatriate Fleming Phillippe Verdelot (d. before
1567)-
In the ensuing generations, which saw the rapid develop-
ment and culmination of the form, greater use was made of
contrapuntal artifice, and five-part work is typical; six
voices were also often used. The general plan of construc-
tion became similar to that of the polyphonic motet, a
series of interlocked sections based on imitations of a melodic
figure. The poems set were generally not longer than

twelve lines, and although the subjects remained chiefly
amorous or pastoral, madrigals were also written dealing
with such matters as children's games and the chatter of
washerwomen Bembo notwithstanding. Great care was
taken over apt setting of the words and, to quote the writer
c
of the article in Grove's Dictionary, both words and music
acquire a marvellously skilful technique of deliberate volup-
9
tuousness .
The list of madrigalists
is extensive. Willaert, Jacob
Arcadelt 1514 to c. 1570), Hubert Waelrant (c. 1518 to
(c.
1
595)> Philippe de Monte (c. 1521 to 1603) and Lassus are
notable among the Netherlanders. Waelrant was excep-
tional in that he seems to have spent his life in his native
country. De Monte was among the most prolific, pro-

ducing over 600 madrigals as well as numerous sacred

works. Of the Italians we may mention Cipriano da Rore
and Luca Marenzio (c. 1560 to 1599). Palestrina's output
of madrigals was small, and in his later years he seems to
have been rather ashamed of having written ijhem. In the
Preface to his fourth book of motets he says: 'There exists
a vast mass of love-songs of the poets. . . . They are the
song of men ruled by passion, and a great number of
musicians, corrupters of youth, make them the concern of
their art. ... I blush and grieve to think that once I was
of their number.' Palestrina must have developed much
the same kind of outlook as Victoria.
With the advent of new ideas and a new outlook at the
beginning of the I7th century, the madrigal underwent
rapid modification, which will be briefly considered in
Chapter 8, and then went quickly, almost suddenly, out
of fashion.
The principal stimulus to the writing of madrigals in
England was the publication by Nicholas Yonge, in 1588,
ofMusica Transalpina, a collection of Italian madrigals with
the words translated into English. Not that the form was
unknown here before this. Leaving aside a collection of
secular songs published in 1530 by Wynkyn de Worde, there
is Richard Edwards' In going to my naked bed, not later than
1564. The first publication containing a number of pieces

approximating in style to the Italian (or Flemish) madrigal
was Byrd's Psalmes, Sonnets and Songs of Sadness and Pietie
which appeared in 1588, but earlier in the year than Musica
Transalpina. After the publication of the Italian work, how-
ever, a great flood of madrigals appeared, no fewer than
forty-three sets being brought out before the final one by
John Hilton in 1627.
The English madrigal falls into three classes, (a) the
madrigal proper, whose normal style and structure have
already been mentioned, (4) the Ballett, and (c) the Ayre.
The ballett was a descendant of the Italian ballata> which
originated in the I4th century, and was for simultaneous
singing and dancing.* The 16th-century English form
retained much of the traditional dance-like rhythm, was
strongly metrical and rarely contrapuntal. It was also
9
characterised by the use of a 'fa-la refrain, some sets
being
entitled 'Balletts or Fa-las'. Itwas usually strophic, i.e.
the same music was used for two or more verses of words,
word repetition being avoided. It thus differed
strongly
from the madrigal proper which was 'through-composed'
and inevitably employed much repetition of words. The
Ayre (=Air) was in the nature of an accompanied solo
song, the accompaniment being either vocal or instrumental,
generally on the lute. Like the ballett, it was strophic and
simple in texture. The term Canzonet was sometimes used
as an alternative to madrigal, especially by Thomas
Morley,
whose attempted explanation of it does not always match
the works which he designates as such.
Most notable in the works of the English madrigalists is
the exceedingly apt and subtle way in which the music
illustrates thewords; any word or phrase that suggests the
possibility of musical illustration
is seized upon with
avidity
and dealt with vividly. Still more notable, perhaps, is the
degree of emotional intensity which is achieved in settings
of the sadder poems, an intensity unmatched by any of
the Italians or Flemings. We have only to read through
such a work as Thomas Weelkes' Care, thou wilt despatch me
to realise the truth of the statement in Chapter i that the
Elizabethans were romanticists.
On an increasing feeling
the technical side there appears
for chord-progression and key (as opposed to mode).
Although the madrigal proper was generally of polyphonic
i.e. chorda!
texture, purely homophonic, passages are often
met with, and in these that the composers exploit what
it is
they were learning about the emotional possibilities of

chords and chord-progression. Weelkes 9 Care provides
a magnificent example.
* Even late in the i6th
century Giovanni Gastoldi (c. 1556 to 1622)
published balletts *fbr singing, playing and dancing'.
Ex. 17
Hence Care ! thou.
We have to look forward to Purcell and Bach before again

finding such poignancy.
Possibly the greatest of our madrigalists were Weelkes
(c. 1575
to 1623) and John Wilbye (1574 to 1638), but
the work of Orlando Gibbons (1583 to 1625) must not be
overlooked. Gibbons specialised in what has been called
the 'ethical' madrigal, of which the words have a moral
rather than an amorous tone. From this point of view his
madrigals lie, as it were, between the normal type and the
motet serious, but not sacred. One of his finest examples
is What is our life, a meditation on human weakness.
Of the writers of balletts, Thomas Morley (1557 to1603)
is unsurpassed for delicacy and lightness of touch. He is
notable also as the author of A Plaine and Easie Introduction
to Practicall Music, which was a standard instructional work
for two centuries, and is an invaluable source of informa-

tion on the contemporary methods of composition.
The Ayre, a peculiarly English form of composition, often
attained, like the madrigal, remarkable intensity of expres-
sion.JohnDowland (1562 to 1626) and Thomas Campion
(1567 to 1620) are perhaps the two greatest composers
in
this form.Dowland was one of the best-known musicians
in the whole of Europe, and spent part of his life in Paris
and in Italy. He has rightly been described as one of the
world's greatest song-writers, and was not only a superb
melodist, but also a harmonic innovator of great originality.
He was probably the finest lutenist of his time. Gampian
was both poet and musician, his settings of his own lyric
poems, with lute accompaniment, being second in value
only to the work of Dowland.
Of the 16th-century French musicians, apart from those
to be considered in succeeding paragraphs, mention may
be made of Clement Jannequin (1485 to c. 1560). His
work lay chiefly in the direction of secular chansons, mostly
for four voices, and he is notable for his attempts at
illustrative setting of words, e.g. The Song of the Nightingale.
He was the composer of a (vocal) battle-piece,
also
possibly the of a long line of such pieces, which
first
are generally more notable for naivete than for musical

value.
We have now to consider the effects of the Reformation
on music. Apart from purely doctrinal matters, the musical
aims of all the reformers, in England (Granmer), in Ger-
many (Luther) or in Geneva (Calvin) were much the same,

viz. that the words, in the vernacular, should be heard and
understood by the congregation, and that the congregation
themselves should take some part in the singing. The
Calvinists were in some ways the most radical, permitting
only metrical versions of the psalms. Hymns, being 'man-
made' and not biblical, were considered unacceptable.
The important musicians here are the French Huguenots
Claude Goudimd (c. 1505 to 1572), who died in the Mas-
sacre of St. Bartholomew, Claude le Jeune (c. 1528 to 1600)
and Loys Bourgeois 1510).
(b, Goudimel and le Jeune
c.
made many settings of the psalms, varying in style from

simple homophony, in which the element of chordal treat-
ment strongly marked, to quite elaborate polyphony.
is
Bourgeois was for many years editor of the Genevan Psalter,

md his settings are almost entirely chordal in style, with

:>nenote to a syllable.
Martin Luther was himself a practical musician, and laid
great stress on congregational singing in his reformed ser-
vices, though he was not averse to the employment of pro-
fessional choirs. His great contribution to music was the
introduction of the Chorale or German hymn into the
services, the far-reaching results of which will be seen in
later chapters. He was the first religious leader to remark
that he did not see why the Devil should have all the best
tunes, and promptly clinched his argument by appropriat-
ing a number of well-known secular melodies and making
'sacred parodies' of their words. Thus, the words of
Heinrich Isaac's melody:
Ex. 18
etc.
Innsbruck I must leave thee, were parodied into world

1 now must leave thee. Other chorale tunes were adapted
from traditional plainsong put into 'measured music', and
yet others were original compositions, one of the most
famous, Ein Feste Burg ('A Sure Stronghold') being re-
putedly by Luther himself, who also wrote the words. His
firstProtestant hymnbook appeared in 1524.
In England the musical effects of the Reformation were
far-reaching, and yet not so drastic as in Geneva. Whereas
Calvin severed any connection with the old Catholic ritual,
the reformed English Church retained services based at
least to some extent on the traditional 'Offices', together
with some of the musical sections. The Chapel Royal, of
which records exist as early as 1135, anc^ ^ *&& cathe-
drals, had built up a fine musical tradition which continued
unbroken despite the changed aspects of religious belief.
Polyphonic music for the Mass was replaced by 'Services*
which consisted of settings of the Venite, Te Deum, Benedictus>
Kyrie, Creed, Magnificat and Jfimc Dimittis. Two most not-
able settings are Tallis' Dorian service and Byrd's 'Short
9
service. In both of these, as in such works as Tye's Acts of

the Apostles, a simpler, more harmonic style of treatment
appears. Byrd's work is almost entirely one note to a
syllable, and the tendency
to key as opposed to mode is
strongly marked.
Besides such large-scale works, we must note the appear-
ance of the 'Anglican Chant' for use with the vernacular
use with the metrical
prose psalms, and of psalm-tunes for
versions. Anglican chants were mainly simple harmonisa-
tions of the old Gregorians, with the tune in the tenor.
The earliest complete metrical psalter was that of Sternhold
and Hopkins, published in 1562; it was a standard work
for over a century.
The great importance of the simplification of style which
was insisted on by all the reformers lies in the fact that it
forced composers to 'think vertically', i.e. in terms of chord-

progressions rather than of simultaneous
melodic lines. We
have seen that as far back as Dunstable there were signs
of a feeling towards the triad, and Dufay's use of faux-
bourdon also shows some tendency to harmonic thinking.
This tendency was now rapidly intensified, and in the next
century the idea of contrapuntal texture based on the
decoration of a preconceived chord-basis gradually takes
the place of a texture in which the vertical combinations,
i.e. the chords, arise from the interplay of melodic lines.
Despite the general simplicity demanded by the reformers,

contrapuntal music was not banished from the English rite.
as any of
Byrd's 'Great' service is as polyphonic in texture
his -Latin works, and the anthem, which may be called the
English substitute for the motet, was often written in the

traditional complex manner. The finest anthems of the
period are those of Gibbons. Of his forty examples, some
fifteen are polyphonic, possibly the best known, and cer-
tainly one of the finest, being Hosanna to the Son of David.

Gibbons was not averse to experiment, and was one of the
first(though Byrd anticipated him) to write "verse* anthems,

in which solo passages and independent instrumental accom-
paniment are introduced. This form, new in Gibbons'
time, was chiefly popular around the end of the lyth
century in the hands of such Restoration composers as
Purcell and Blow.
RECORDS
H.M.S. Vol. 4, Nos. 31? to 38, and 40.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE RISE OF
INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC
study so far has been concerned exclusively
with the development of vocal music. It was not
OUR
to give
until late in the I5th century that composers began
any serious attention to that for instruments alone.
The undeveloped state of the instruments themselves and
the fact that composers were so largely concerned with the
provision of music for the Church naturally brought about
concentration on the vocal rather than on the instrumental
side. Little seems to have been written purely for instru-
mental performance, and there was little or no differentia-
tion of style.
From the earliest times there was a wealth of dance tunes
for the vielle or fiedel, but their composers are unknown.
In any case, the 'serious' composer had other things to do
than to write such pieces. Of medieval instrumental music
written for use in church a number of short organ preludes
survive, rambling and formless affairs which show clearly
the undeveloped state of the instrument and the com-
posers' lack of grasp of a suitable style. The earliest extant
keyboard music is in the Robertsbridge Codex of about 1325,
an organ estampie. It is to some extent stylised, being in
dance rhythm but not suitable for actual dancing.
Instruments, as we have seen, were often combined with
or substituted for voices, and by the i6th century many
had reached a high state of development. Brief considera-
tion of the most important now follows.
The organ had progressed far beyond its condition in
the days of the pulsator organorum, having one or more
manageable keyboards and a considerable variety of stops.
It was most advanced in Germany, where an adequate
pedal department was considered essential. As early as
the first quarter of the i6th century, in an organ built by
Arnold Schlick in Heidelberg, four of the sixteen stops were
3n the pedal, and as we move on towards the 1 7th century
we find this department tending to increase more and more,
both in size and variety. In England, Italy and France the
organ was less developed and remained so until much later;
pedals were either lacking or but poorly provided with
registers.
Of domestic instruments the chief were the lute, the viols 3
recorders, and the various keyboard instruments.
The lute was of great antiquity. Its body was shaped
rather like a pear cut in half from top to bottom. The
strings fingers and the tone was re-
were plucked by the
strainedand gentle. Like many other instruments of the
time, and since, lutes were made in families of five or more
different sizes, the most popular being the theorbo or tenor
9
lute. notation was called 'tablature and was designed
Its
to show the positions of the fingers on the fingerboard, not
the actual sounds to be played.* The ordinary staff nota-
tion was not used. nature the lute was incapable of
Of its
true polyphony, though by the end of the i6th century
such composers as Molinaro were achieving some remark-
able effects of 'faking'.
In Spain the place of the lute was taken by the vihuela,
an ancestor of the guitar. The number of strings and their
tuning, the notation and the manner of playing the two
instruments were similar, as was also the style of writing
for them.
The viol was a development of the medieval vielle, one
* to do than told
*A true tablature rather directed the player what
him what music to play' (Scholes, Oxford Companion). Tablatures for
various instruments survived into the i8th century. Even in Bach's
time an organ tablature was still in use by the more conservative com-
posers in Germany, and the theorist F. E. Niedt, in his Musikalische
Handleitvng of 1700, castigates severely and amusingly those who still
clung to such an antiquated system. The only present-day survivals of
the tablature system are in connection with such instruments as the
mandoline and the ukulele.
THE RISE OF INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC 87
form of which was held in front of the body, not under

the chin. This was gradually transformed into the viola
9
da gamba or 'leg viol , and from it came a large family,
all held either resting on the knees or between them. As
compared with their relations the violin family, viols have
a flat back, sloping shoulders, six strings instead of four,
and 'C'-shaped sound holes. The tone was sombre, lack-
ing the brightness and incisiveness of the violins. A 'chest
of viols' was an actual chest in which a small set of various
sizes was kept for domestic use.
Family groups included the recorders, a type of end-

blown flute (as opposed to the side-blown or 'transverse'
flute of the modern orchestra), with a round and gentle
tone. At the beginning of the i6th century four sizes were
in use, but by the i8th there were no fewer than nine,
Recorder
ranging from the sopranino, roughly equivalent to a piccolo,

to the great bass, an impracticable sort of instrument with
a penchant for leaping up an octave on the slightest pro-
vocation or on no provocation at all.
Of the four domestic keyboard instruments three, the
virginals, the spinet and the harpsichord, were related in
their method of tone production, the strings being plucked
and the tone consequently tending to be 'twangy'. The
tone of the harpsichord was louder and richer than that
of its companions, and even before 1600 instruments were
being built with mechanism enabling differing qualities of
tone to be produced.* Later, two-manual harpsichords
were developed, each keyboard controlling its own set of
strings (see frontispiece).
In the clavichord, a more essentially domestic instrument
*The reader is referred to Donington's The Instruments of Music
(Methuen) for details.
than the harpsichord, the strings were struck by a metal
tangent fixed to the rear end of the key. There was no
intervening mechanism as in the case of the plucked-string
instruments, and the tone could be varied, within some-
what narrow limits, according to the degree offeree applied
to the key.
Other instruments, for church or open-air rather than
for domestic use,were the sackbuts (trombones) and the
shawms and pommers. These last were the ancestors of
Shawm
Gornett
9
the oboe and bassoon, including the 'great bass pommer
or 'bombard', a ten-foot giant which needed one man to
blow it and another to support it at the front.* There
were also cornetts, trumpet-like affairs of wood, or occa-
a cup-shaped mouthpiece.
sionally of ivory, with
Whencomposers began to take a serious interest in
first
writing instrumental music they were faced with the prob-

lem of what kind of pieces to write. Broadly speaking,
this was solved in three directions, (a) dances, (4) adapta-
tions of the current vocal polyphonic style and (c) variations
on a theme. A fourth but less important solution was the
writing of descriptive music.
In much of lie early music no particular instruments
were specified, and it would seem that it was intended to
be played on whatever mig;ht be available. Large quan-
tities of dances appeared, some for specified instruments,
* A practice which survives perhaps only in one part of the world,
with the monstrous temple trumpets of Tibet.
some not. Of the latter, important collections were printed

in 1
529 and 1 530 by the Parisian publisher Pierre Attaignant,
comprising pavanes, galliards, basse danses and branles.
They do not possess any great musical distinction, but are
noteworthy in that, at a time when other kinds of music
were predominantly contrapuntal, they are entirely homo-
phonic, as music for the dance must naturally be, once it
ceases to be purely melodic. We have seen how from the
time of Dunstable there was an increasing feeling for chords
and chord-progression, and the composition of dances
played an important part in the development of this. The
harmony of the Attaignant dances is of the simplest charac-
ter, some, indeed, employing little but tonic and dominant.
Use of the major scale is common.
Attaignant's sets of dances were not arranged according
to any plan. The First Dance Book of 1530, for example,
lumps together 'nine basses danses, two branles, twenty-

fivepavanes with fifteen galliards in music for four parts'.
But even at this early stage the grouping of dances into
sets, generally contrasting pairs, was quite common, the
second of a pair often being a variation on the first. The
pairing of a slow dance and a quick one was most common,
the most popular group being the pavane and galliard.
The pavane was a stately affair, more of a procession than
a dance in the usual sense,* while the galliard was quick,
gay, and in triple time as opposed to the duple of its com-
panion. Galliards were frequently written as variations of
their associated pavanes. This pairing of dances is his-
torically of great importance, since it is the genesis of the
1 7th- and 18th-century form, the Suite.
The internal organisation of individual dances is notable
inview of its bearing on the development of later instru-
mental forms. From the earliest days dance tunes had been
sectional in construction, conformably to the pattern of
the dances themselves. In some cases the contrast between
* Such were
Compare the Polish Polonaise. processional dances
common all over Europe.
sections is very
strong as, for example, in a Hornpipe by
Hugh Aston, found in a MS. of about 1500. This has five
sections so strongly contrasted that but for the fact that all
but the last end with a might as well be five
half-close, it
separate pieces. a good example of the harmonic
It is also
simplicity already mentioned; solidly based on the major

scale, the chord-scheme is almost entirely tonic and domin-
ant, with a very occasional supertonic or subdominant.
Attaignant's dances are all clearly sectionalised, though in
varying ways and without any strong contrasts of style.
Towards the end of the i6th century the stylised treatment
of dances led to some conventionalisation of structure,
generally into two or three main periods. In the case of
the latter the music falls into three clearly defined different
sections, though there are occasional instances of a true
ternary (ABA) design. There is even one in Attaignant's
collection of 1530. More important is the frequent use of
the two-period, binary plan, of which a well-known example
is Byrd's Earl of Salisbury's Pavane. This is as rigidly binary
as anything suggested by any textbook on Form. First
sentence of eight bars leading to a half-close, balanced by
another sentence of similar length ending with a full-close.
It happens also to be a particularly beautiful piece of music.
The importance of the binary design is that as the Suite
developed (see Chapter 9) practically all its movements
were written in this form, and further that from it ulti-
mately grew the sonata form which is the structural basis
of much of the work of the composers of the 'classical'
period.
Examples of the polyphonic style transferred to instru-
ments appear as early as Obrecht, who died in 1505. Such
pieces were usually known as canzonas. This term origin-
ally signified a certain variety of lyric verse, and was later
adopted for the musical setting of such poetry in a some-
what madrigalian style. From this it came to be used for
instrumental pieces in the same style. In early canzonas
the use of a tenor cantus firmus was common, as in the case
of Obrecht's A sat, based on a Dutch folksong, but

maiden
this was by no means obligatory. Isaac also produced
interesting works of this kind.
Of rather similar construction was the ricercar or ricercare,
though term has had a number of different implica-

this
tions. Literally it implies research, a seeking-out, and in
this sense might imply a kind of prelude in which, as the
historian Dr. Burney says, 'the composer seems to search
or look out for the strains and touches of harmony, which
he is to use in the regular piece to be played afterwards'.
In the 1 6th century it was often used with this implication
in Italian lute music, the ricercare being a short prelude
to a transcription of a song. The contrapuntal ricercare
was a deliberate imitation of the polyphonic motet, em-
ploying all such devices as canon, augmentation, etc., as
the composer chose. Willaert's ricercares are of consider-
able importance, written for three melodic instruments such
as viols or recorders. The Italian Girolamo Gavazzoni
(b. c. 1515) may also be mentioned, being the first writer
of ricercares for the organ. He is notable, too, for the
freedom of his part-writing, in which the number of voices
is apt to vary frequently within a single composition.
The term Fantasia

(in England 'Fancy') might also imply
a piece in canzona style, but equally it might mean some-
thing of a rambling nature, simply 'following the dictates of
9
the composer's fancy .
We
have seen that in pairs of dances the second was not
infrequently a variation on the first. The practice of writ-
ing variations on a theme was developed quickly and with
considerable skill by many composers. Within rather re-
stricted limits, great ingenuity was shown in embellishing
the tune, and in applying new figures of accompaniment
to it. The theme might be made up by the composer, or
might equally well be some popular song. Variations were
written largely for the keyboard instruments and for the lute.
Turning now to the composers and the instruments for
which they wrote, we may note first two important schools,
of vihuelists in Spain and of lutenists in Italy. The Spanish
school flourished in the first half of the 1 6th century, notable
composers being Luis de Milan, Luis de Narvaez and
Anriquez de Valderrano. Narvaez was a particularly good
writer of variations, and showed great ingenuity in produc-
ing a pseudo-contrapuntal texture
on an instrument which
Theorbo or Archlute Viola da Gamba
fundamentally non-contrapuntal. This ingenuity

is is also
characteristic of some of the Italians, whose school flourished

more towards the end of the century. Some of the finest
and cleverest work is that of Simone Molinaro, who in 1599
was maestro di capella at the cathedral of Genoa. His com-
positions show genuine melodic inventiveness, and evidence
that he was no mean performer. His Intavolatura di Liuto,

published in the year of his appointment to Genoa, con-
tains examples of such dances as the Saltarello and the
Passamezzo (in as many as ten separate sections, each end-
ing in the tonic), as well as a number of galliards in three
or four sections. Molinaro was almost fantastically clever
9
at 'faking a contrapuntal texture in his fantasias, not only
in his original compositions, but also in his arrangements
of canzonas by other composers, e.g. Clemens non Papa.
Like many of his contemporaries, he often gave fanciful
titles to his dances, sometimes, as with Byrd's Earl of Salis-
bury pavane, in a dedicatory fashion, but sometimes for no

apparent reason beyond caprice* This is also the case with
the lutenist Santino Garsi, who entitles one of his galliards
'The lie in the throat'.
In France the lutenist school, beginning in the latter part
of the 6th century, reached its climax considerably later,
1
in the person of Denis Gaultier (d. 1672). He, too, followed

9
the fashion of using 'fancy' titles, e.g. 'The virtuous coquette .
Of English lutenists Dowland and Campian were the most

renowned, but the former's fame rests chiefly on his ayres,
while the latter appears to have written nothing for lute
alone. England, however, produced the greatest virginal
music of the century, from the pens of Byrd, Gibbons and
Dr. John Bull (1563 to 1628). Bull lived much abroad,
his fame on the continent being great, and from 1613 to
his death was organist at Antwerp Cathedral. He was a
virtuoso of keyboard instruments, with the same visionary
insight into the possibilities of technique and sonority as
was later to distinguish Domenico Scarlatti and Franz Liszt.
Commenting on the English virginal music of this period,
Dr. E. H. Fellowes says: *No other European country has
anything that can remotely be compared with it. More
than 600 pieces are in existence, and nearly a quarter of
these are by Especially notable, as being the first
Byrd.'
known engraved book of keyboard music, is the collection
called Parthenia, of 1611. It contains works of only Byrd,
Gibbons and Bull, and consists largely of pavanes and gal-
liards. Other collections of the time are My Ladye NeoelFs
Booke and the Fitzwilliam Virginal Book (so called because
itwas the property of the Viscount Fitzwilliam who pre-
sented it to Cambridge University in 1816), together with
the original books of Benjamin Cosyn and Will Forster
(1624). These are in manuscript.
last Besides dances,
including allemandes, corantos and jigs, there are numerous
fantasies, preludes,and sets of variations.
In Spain the outstanding writer for keyboard instruments
was the blind Antonio de Cab&on (1510 to 1566), who played
a leading part in the development of variation writing.
For the viols the chief types of composition were the can-
zona, the ricercare and the fantasie or fancy. Here again
the English composers are outstanding, in particular Byrd
and Gibbons. Both showed great mastery in applying the
contemporary vocal style to instruments, and both pro-
duced works which are not only technically ingenious but
also of considerable musical value.
The organ music of the period is of great variety. Can-
zonas abound, Cavazzoni being notable in this direction,
and a large amount of music exists written for liturgical
purposes. The practice of writing preludial movements
continued. These, although often far from being highly
organised, gradually became less utterly rambling than
those of earlier times, and began to exploit the possibilities
of short-value notes in the form of extended scalic runs.
There are numerous pieces based on plainsong hymns, the
cantusftrmus being more or less decorated, with harmonisa-
tion which might be quite simple or moderately contra-
puntal. These 'organ hymns' appear very early in the i6th
century, there being extant examples by Arnold Schlick,
who died about 1517, and the Englishman John Redford
(1485 to 1545). They are noteworthy as anticipations of
the Chorale Prelude which took such a strong hold of
German composers once the Lutheran reformation was
firmly established.
Also for liturgical purposes are many sets of 'verses for

the tones'. These were used in connection with the singing
of the psalms, which inevitably became monotonous with
the unvarying repetition of the same melodic formula for
each verse. The practice grew up of replacing the plain-
chant of the even-numbered verses by polyphonic settings
9
for the choir or by organ 'versets', based on the 'tone to
which the psalm was being chanted. In the latter case
clergy, choir and congregation meanwhile repeated the
words of the missing verse silently. Sets of such versets
were published in 1531 by Attaignant, and Cabezon among
others wrote numerous examples. A rather similar practice
obtained at times even in the performance of a plainsong
Mass. Certain portions of each movement were replaced
by an organ piece of a more or less contrapuntal character,
based on the omitted plainsong. The name of Cavazzoni
may again be noted in this connection.
Such works as the above had, however, relatively little
effect on the ultimate development of organ music as such.
More important are the many toccatas which appear from
about the middle of the century onwards. The term toccata
comes from the verb toccare, to touch. Nowadays it tends
to imply a piece designed primarily to exhibit the per-
former's dexterity and virtuosity, as, for example, Schu-
mann's Toccata for piano, and the movements for organ
by such composers as Guilmant and Widor, which are often
of greater value as extended finger exercises than as music;
but the original significance of toccata was not unlike that
of sonata, Le. something played as opposed to something
sung. There was, however, always a proportion of brilliant
c
scalic passage work intended, to quote Grove, to exhibit
the touch and execution of the performer'. Toccatas for
the organ date from about 1550, though the earliest known
use of the title is for a lute piece of 1536 by Gastelione.
Both the Gabrielis wrote in this form, but possibly the
greatest of the early writers of toccatas was Claudio Merulo
(1533 to 1604), who served at St. Mark's, Venice, as
organist from 1557 to 1584. He was renowned as a mas-
terly performer. His toccatas
are interesting in their alter-
nation of sections in brilliant virtuoso style with others in
the ricercare manner. He was one of the first to realise
the effectiveness of contrast between quick movement and
steady, solid passages which exploited
the inexorable sus-
taining power of the organ. He may be considered as one
of the most important founders of the Italian organ school
which flourished in the next century.
Essays in programme or illustrative music range from the
reasonably effective to the almost ludicrous, and are im-
portant chiefly in that they were
the ultimate origin of a
led to such works
type of composition which eventually
as the symphonic poems of Liszt, Richard Strauss and
other igth- and 20th-century composers. Among the more
effective pieces John Mundy's (d. 1630) virginal fantasia
is
depicting, in the words of Sir Hubert Parry, various states

of the atmosphere A chare day, Lightning, etc. Martin
Peerson (c. 1580 to 1650) also wrote some charming little
tone pictures, such as The fall of the leaf, in which a quietly
autumnal feeling is created. In Chapter 6 mention was
made of Jannequin's vocal battle piece, and such pieces
appeared also for virginals, e.g. that by Byrd, in which an
attempt is made to illustrate the various stages of the battle,
albeit in a rather elementary manner. Battle pieces were
even written for that least bellicose of instruments, the lute.
The Italian Santino Garsi, who flourished round the turn
of the century, produced one of almost incredible naivety,
consisting mainly of passages suggesting trumpets and drums,
all with carefully detailed instructions as to their meaning.
RECORDS
H.M.S. Vol. 3, Nos. 30 and 31, Vol. 4 Nos. 41 and 42.
CHAPTER EIGHT
VOCAL MUSIC IN
THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY
TN the preceding chapters it has been shown how the
I leadership in European music passed from one country
JL. to another. From the France of Perotin and Machaut
itpassed to England (Dunstable), then to the Burgundians
(Dufay) and from them to the Netherlanders. They, in
their turn, taught the Italians and the Spaniards. We have
seen, too, how the Elizabethans adopted the madrigal and
developed it, in their own way, to a height hardly reached
elsewhere. Each race produced its own supreme genius
of polyphony; the Italians Palestrina, the Flemings Lassus,
the Spaniards Victoria and the English Byrd. In the early
1
7th century the lead passed to the Italians, and it is their
new developments which we have now to consider. But
before doing so it isnecessary to sketch briefly the changes
of outlook which brought about these developments, and
the new technical methods involved.
Shortly before 1600 a band of men, described by one
writer* as a noisy group of litterati\ came together in
e
Florence and launched an attack on the current polyphonic

style of composition. They are known as the Camerata, and
were led by Counts Bardi and Corsi. Other important
members were Giulio Gaccini, a singer, Jacopo Peri,
Vincenzo Galilei and Ottavio Rinuccini, a poet. The basis
of their attack was that the contrapuntal style obscured
the poetry, which admittedly it did, since for much of the
time each of the voices would be singing different words.
Counterpoint was therefore anathema and music, hitherto
the factor, must be treated rather as the hand-
predominant
maid of poetry. Some members of the group, however,
* Dr. Manuel Bukofzer, Music in the Baroque Era.
ioo A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
were amateurs, so that at the back of their attack may
realisation that the technique of vocal
possibly have been a
polyphony needed lengthy professional training, which they
did not possess. Galilei's attitude is rather curious, since as
a professional musician he had already proved himself a
capable contrapuntist.
An avowed aim of the Camerata was the revival of what
they considered to be the ancient Greek
method of declama-
tion, in the form of a musical intensification of the text.
Their attitude to the musical expression of the words was
different from that of the polyphonic composers. The use
of musica reservata by Lassus has been mentioned, and no
group of composers showed greater ability
in this direction
than did the Elizabethans. But musica reservata included,
among other things, the musical illustration of individual
words, not merely the expression of their general mood.
The word 'run', for example, would be expressed by a
quick-moving scalic passage, and so on. The Camerata
de-
cried such methods, insisting that the music should agree
with the mood of the words as a whole. Moods were classi-
fied intoa series of 'affections', Le. emotions, and the 'affec-
tion'of the music must correspond to that of the words.
There were even stereotyped musical figures to represent
the various verbal affections.
As so often happens with new movements of any kind,
there was a good deal of pamphleteering and letter-writing,
the exponents of the new theories expressing themselves in
no measured terms. Bardi, in his Discourse on Ancient Musk
and Good Singing (c. 1580), contrasts counterpoint and the
'art of good singing' much to the detriment of the former.
Caccini, writing in 1602, refers to the 'old way of composi-

tion' which causes 'a laceration of the poetry'. Agostino
Agazzari, in 1607, castigates composers who wish 'to stand
solely on the observance of canonic treatment
and imita-
tion of the notes, not on the passion and expression of the
words'. Examples could be multiplied almost indefinitely.
It must not be thought that the new outlook brought
VOCAL MUSIC IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 101
about a complete and immediate break with the old ideals.

Whereas in the great days of polyphony there was one
over-all prevailing style of composition, whether sacred or
secular, two styles now came to be recognised. The old
style stilo antico persisted in a good deal of music for the
church, though increasingly influenced by the new or
'modern' style stilo moderno. The two styles were also
known asprima and seconda prattica,* first and second prac-
tices, and training in the former was still considered indis-
pensable to the professional composer. Many musicians

wrote equally well in either style. Monteverdi, one of the
greatest figures of the time, wrote a number of sets of
madrigals, some employing stilo antico and some stilo moderno.
When attacked for his advanced use of dissonance in the
latterhe simply retorted that it was justified, since he was
not composing in the old style. Giovanni Gabrieli, too,
exhibits mastery of both styles, his earlier works being
clearly in stilo antico, and his later ones in stilo moderno.
In the course of the century further distinctions of style,
though in a different connection, and apart from any ques-
tion of antico or moderno, came to be recognised, viz. church
music, chamber music and theatre music. These distinc-
tions obviously operated according to the purpose for which
the music was written, and offer another contrast with the
outlook of the preceding generation. In the i6th century
there was, broadly speaking, little difference in the style
of, forexample, a motet and a polyphonic madrigal;f such
a work as Gibbons' What is our life could be set to sacred
words with no violation of propriety, while there is little if
any difference between the style of a Palestrina motet and
that of one of his early madrigals. The i yth-century com-
poser tended to adopt one style in writing for the opera,
another for the church, and so on, though there was at
times a good deal of overlapping.
* The inventor of these terms
appears to have been Monteverdi.
t Though naturally such forms as the ballett and the ayre were auto-
matically non-ecclesiastical in style.
The technical results of the new ideas were manifold,
and can only be dealt with in the barest outline. The
appropriate style of declamation was, as we have seen,
deemed to be of prime importance. The Camerata strove
to achieve a type of simple melody, with the simplest pos-
sible accompaniment, which could follow the exact in-
flexions of the declaiming voice, and so enhance and
intensify the meaning of the words. It was musica parlante,

speaking music, for which the term recitative is usually em-
ployed, also called stile rappresentativo or 'representative
9
style.
According to Bardi's son, Pietro, Galilei was 'the
9
to let us hear singing in the stile rappresentativo .
first most A
important early example of this was a collection of vocal
title of Le Nuove Musiche
under the
pieces published in 1602
'The New Music
Although
3
experimental,
. a good deal
of emotional intensity and dramatic force is at times
achieved, as in Caccini's well-known Amarilli.
In all these compositions a notable feature is the rhythmic
freedom of the voice part, which is made to approximate
to some extent to speech-rhythm. Equally notable is the
increasingly free use of dissonance, brief mention of which

was made in Chapter 3. Unprepared discords become
more and more common, and great stress is laid on the
use by the voice of the more 'affective' intervals, e.g. the
diminished 4th and chromatic progressions.
The accompanimental methods of monody* are of great
importance, since (0) they show an almost sudden swerve
to the use of chords as such, far more than might have
been anticipated, despite the tendencies already noted in
Chapter 6, and (4) they firmly established a practice,
already in use to some extent, known as basso continuo or
'thorough bass', which persisted for about the next 150
years. Lute accompaniments to ayres often tried to pre-
serve a kind of faked contrapuntal texture; but the Camerata
eschewed counterpoint, and thus the only possible harmonic
* This term under
is frequently used for music of the kind discussion,
it from, polyphony.
support to the voice was chordal. Accompaniments to

monody might well be played on a lute, but all that the
player had was a figured bass line from which he was
5
expected to 'realise , that is to build up, his chordal pro-

gressions. Until about the middle of the i8th century all
vocal compositions and the majority of instrumental ones
included in the score a part for continue. The bass line itself
would be played by some low-pitched instrument such as
a 'cello, while it became the regular practice for the 'realisa-
tion* to be played on harpsichord or organ. Thus, what-
ever the texture of the upper parts, there was always a
harmonic background. To what extent this would be
purely chordal or, alternatively, contrapuntal, would de-
pend on the style of the movement concerned and on the
ability of the player.
One further point must be mentioned. We have seen
that largely owing to the use of musica fata the individual
characteristics of the modes gradually became obscured;
the 1 7th century saw the final disintegration of the modal
system and its supplanting by the major- and minor-scale
system. In the early years there is often considerable
vagueness of tonality, composers seeming to hover between
the modes and the later system; some, indeed, employ either
at will. Even in the second half of the century we find
that Purcell, for example, uses the major scale pure and
simple in some of his more 'modern' pieces; but in some
movements in his anthems, and in his string fantasias, he
adopts a more archaic, backward-looking
deliberately
idiom. By the end of the xyth century, however, the
modes were dead, and the bases of composition were the
major and minor scales, though there were, for reasons
which will appear later, certain inevitable restrictions. The
complete and unrestricted establishment of the new scale-
system was the work of Bach.
We turn now to the types of composition which first saw
light in the I7th century, which was an extraordinarily
fertile period. Although much of the rest of this chapter
willbe devoted to music in Italy, it must be remembered
that the new ideas which have been outlined above spread
rapidly all over Europe. Each country tended to stress
one or more particular aspects of composition, these aspects
being affected by, among other things, socialand religious
conditions. Not that the music of any one country was
isolated from that of its neighbours; there was, as there
9
always has been, continual 'cross-fertilisation , often due to
the travels of the composers themselves and the natural
desire of the younger men to seek the help or instruction
of the most eminent musicians of any country.
The principles oSNuove Musicke found complete expression
in opera. Before the end of the i6th century there had
been written 'madrigal-operas', entertainments in which a
drama was enacted, interspersed with the singing of mad-
rigals. In other words, a kind of play with incidental music.
(Compare Adam de la Kale's Robin et Marion.} More purely
musical was such a work as Amfiparnasso of Orazio Vecchi
(c. 1551 to 1605), called by the composer Commedia Armonica,
which consisted of a whole series of unaccompanied five-
part madrigals. But such works, whatever their purely
musical virtues, had little if any value as dramatic repre-
sentations, and it was exactly this matter of the application
of music to dramatic ends which was exercising the minds
of the Camerata. The first true opera, that is drama set to
music, was Dqfne by Peri, produced in 1597 but now lost.
Like most of its successors for nearly two hundred years,
its was based on an ancient Greek story an obvious
plot
result of the Bardi group's preoccupation with Greek
tragedy. In 1600 came Eurydice, partly by Peri and partly
by Caccini, followed in the same year by Caccini's own
setting of the same libretto, which was by Rinuccini. The
style of these works is entirely monodic, with a somewhat
haphazard collection of accompanying instruments. It may
be imagined that the effect would be hardly exciting to
20th-century ears, but there was soon to appear a genius
of great inventiveness and dramatic power, Claudio
Monteverdi (1567 to 1643), maestro di capella* to the Duke

of Mantua. His first opera, Orfeo, produced in 1607, shows
great power of dramatic expression, and requires a large
and heterogeneous collection of instruments for an orchestra.
In later works he tended to be less orchestrally adventurous,
and there are clear signs of the beginnings of the use of the
string orchestra as the main instrumental support. Monte-
verdi soon began to turn away from the use of uninter-
rupted recitative. The use of a chorus in dramatically
appropriate places was accepted, and we now find the aria,
i.. a properly organised melody commenting on the action,
beginning to appear as a break in the monotony. most A

expressive example is the famous 'Lament of Ariadne' from
Arianna, produced in 1608. Monteverdi is notable as an
innovator in orchestral technique, and is credited with the
invention of the string tremolando.
The earliest operas were performed privately, but in 1637
the first was opened, the Teatro di San
public opera house
Cassiano in Venice. Here was produced, in 1640, Monte-
verdi's U
Adorn and also Le Nozze di Peleo e di Teti by his
pupil Cavallif (1602 to 1676). Cavalli, possibly more than
his master, and certainly in opposition to the original ideas
of the Camerata, cultivated easy-flowing and rhythmic
9
melody, as did also his contemporary, Marc Antonio Cesti
(1623 to 1669). The public found this much to their taste,
and quite quickly recitative, the original sole constituent
of opera, 'fell into the background. It was now used simply
to carry on the action of the plot, while melodious arias,
which often became vehicles for vocal display, came to be
regarded as the most important movements. So much so
that a composer commissioned to write an opera would
begin by setting the recitatives, but would not tackle the
* This
term, together with the corresponding German kapellmeister,
has not necessarily any ecclesiastical significance. The capella or kapelle
of a house or institution was the body of musicians attached to it, and
the maestro or meister was the musical director.
"j*
His full name was Pier-Francesco Galetti-Bruni, but the nickname
Cavalli is generally used.
io6 A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
arias until he had heard, and assessed the capabilities of,
the singers engaged to take part.
Before the end of the century Venice had no fewer than
eleven opera houses, employing a group of composers
including Legrenzi, Sartorio, Ziani and Strozzi. Other
cities were not backward in taking to opera, but hardly
to the same extent; Rome, for example, had but three
houses.
After the middle of the century the greatest name in
opera is Alessandro Scarlatti (1658 or 1659 to I 7 2I ) the
founder of the Neapolitan school. A superb melodist, it
is to him that we owe the standardisation of the aria into
ternary form (statement, digression, restatement). He em-

ployed two varieties of recitative, the recitativo secco, simple
and quick-moving, with figured bass accompaniment on
the harpsichord, and recitativo accompagnato (or stromentato] ,
'accompanied recitative', which was used for the more
emotionally intense passages. His use of the stereotyped
e 9
ternary ( da capo ) aria was only part of the conventionalisa-
tion of opera which persisted for many years until an
attempt to break it down was made by Gluck in the i8th
century. Of Scarlatti's fellow Neapolitans, Alessandro
Stradella (1645 to 1682) is perhaps the most noteworthy.
Scarlatti is notable for the popularisation, if not the in-
vention, of a stereotyped form of operatic overture. The
overture originated as a kind of preliminary flourish, a
summons to attention, but in Scarlatti's hands it became a
three-movement affair quick, slow, quick under the title
of Sinfonia avanti F opera. Although on a small scale, its his-
torical importance is considerable, since it was the germ
of the classical symphony.
In France the earliest operas were closely associated with
the Court ballet, and for a long period ballet was con-
sidered an essential in opera.* Early attempts to introduce
*
Writing as late as 1834, Hector Berlioz remarks, *at the OpeYa, an
excuse for a ballet would be found, even in a representation of the
Last Judgment'!
Italian opera were unsuccessful, despite the powerful influ-

ence of Cardinal Mazarin during the reign of Louis XIV.
In 1646 came the private production of what is usually
described as the first real French opera, the Abbe Mailly's
Akebar, Roi de Mogol, and in 1659 began the association of
the musician Robert Cambert with the librettist Pierre
Perrin. Their most successful work was Pomone (1671), the
first French opera to be publicly performed in Paris. But
their success was not to last. In 1646 one Giovanni Batista
Lulli* (1632 to 1687) had come to Paris as page-boy to
Mile, de Montpensier, niece of Louis XIV. His musical
ability soon became apparent, and in 1653 he was appointed
the King's composer of dance music, rapidly achieving
almost a monopoly of the writing of court ballets, in which
the King himself often took part. In 1672 Lulli secured
for himself the patent hitherto held by Perrin to establish
an 'Academy of Music', and thereafter produced some
twenty operas in conjunction with the librettist Quinault.
The first of these, Les FStes de I Amour et de Bacchus, is de-
9
scribed as the first 'legitimate' French opera. As with the

contemporary Italian works, the subjects of Lulli's operas
are chiefly drawn from classical mythology, and all begin
with a prologue glorifying Le Roi SoleiL The inclusion of
ballet was invariable, and much greater use was made of the
chorus than in Italian opera. Lulli did not use the Italian
recitativo secco, preferring instead excellently managed de-
clamation in the form of accompanied recitative. His arias,
modelled on those of Gavalli, avoid the Italian convention-
ality of structure, and are often of considerable emotional
power. The well-known Bois fipais is an excellent example
of Lulli at his best.
To Lulli is ascribed the invention of the Trench' over-
ture. Its (a) a slow introduction, generally
plan was with
much dotted-note rhythm, (b) a quick fugal movement,
followed by (c} one or more dances, or a repetition of the
opening movement. Unlike the Italian overture, Lulli's
* Also known
by the French form of his name, Jean Baptiste Lully.
io8 A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
form, although still in use by Handel nearly a hundred
years later, had no further development.
In Germany opera began with the setting of a German
translation of Rinuccini's Dafne by Heinrich Schiitz (1585
to 1672), in 1627. The music is lost. After this, Italian
works were imported, sung in the original tongue. German
opera proper dates from 1678, when Joharm Theile's Adam
und Eva was given in Hamburg. In that city Reinhard
Keiser (1674 to 1739), the real father of German opera,
reigned supreme from the end of the i7th century up to
about 1739. His work is entirely German in style, exhibit-
ing characteristic Teutonic earnestness.
In England opera only just managed to exist at all. There
seems to be no record of any truly operatic performance
until Sir William Davenant's The Siege of Rhodes in 1657.*
To what extent this was a real opera is perhaps a little
conjectural, though it is usually referred to as 'the first
English opera'. The music is lost, and the only clue to

its character is the composer's statement that the dialogue
was in recitative. It was followed by the same writer's

The Cruelty of the Spaniards in Peru.
Throughout the I7th century, with one outstanding ex-

ception, the nearest English equivalent to opera was the
Masque^ a form of entertainment which was also cultivated
in France and Italy. The French Court Ballet was of
similar type. The Masque, whose origins are of consider-
able antiquity, combined music, poetry, dancing, pageantry
and lavish scenic and mechanical effects, which latter were
also a great feature of the French opera. Possibly the two
most famous masques were Matthew Locke's setting of
9
Shirley's Cupid and Death, and Henry Lawes setting of
Milton's Comus. The form survived into the i8th century,
Arne's Alfred appearing as late as 1740.
The one great English opera of the period is Dido and
* The fact that this was
during the Commonwealth period is in itself
a refutation of the widely-held theory that the Puritans deprecated music
of any kind. See Scholes* Oxford Companion, art. 'Puritans and Music',
on this.
Aeneas by Henry Purcell (1659 to 1695). The dialogue is

in recitative and some dances are included. The most
notable movement Dido's 'Lament', one of the most
is
poignantly moving pieces of music ever written. Rather

oddly, perhaps. Dido was composed for performance by
the pupils at an academy for young ladies, and we may
be permitted to wonder whether the student who took
the part of Dido could possibly have realised the full
emotional scope of her lament.
Parallel with the development of opera ran that of
oratorio. The ultimate origins of this form go back to the
1
3th century, in the laudi, simple devotional songs in the
vernacular. Many were written by Franciscan monks.
Later they were often cast in dialogue form, and by the
1 4th century were being dramatised into religious plays
with music, performed by companies called laudesi. From

the dramatised laudi evolved, early in the i6th century,
the sacre rappresentazioni (sacred representations) of which
lavish performances were given in Florence and the sur-
rounding country. They were practically operas on sacred
subjects, including laudi, secular songs, instrumental inter-
ludes and dancing.
In 1556 St. Philip Neri, founder of the Order of Ora-
torians, instituted in Rome popular services which incor-
porated elements from plays on sacred subjects as well as
the singing of laudispirituali. The services continued after
hisdeath in 1595, but their character rapidly changed with
the introduction into them of the sacre rappresentazioni. In
1600 such a work by Emilio di Cavalieri (c. 1550 to 1602)
was performed in the Oratorio della Vallicella, called La
Rappresentazione di Anima e di Corpo the Representation of
Soul and Body. This is often called the first oratorio, but
it is actually a sacra rappresentazione, including a final dance.
Oratorio in the accepted sense was yet to come.

Concurrent with the sacred representation was the Dia-
logo (Dialogue), which prefigured oratorio to a greater
extent. It consisted of dialogues in simple recitative
i to A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
between two persons, interspersed with choral movements.
These latter were often of a 'reflective' character, antici-
pating the reflective arias which, as in opera, became such
an important part of oratorio proper. Notable among com-
posers of Dialoghi is Giovanni Anerio (c. 1567 to c. 1620),
who showed a fondness for such cumbersome titles as Teatro
Armonico Spirituals di Madrigali a cinque^ sei, sette e otto voci
(1619), which may be translated literally as 'The Spiritual
Harmonic Theatre of Madrigals for 5, 6, 7 and 8 voices'.
We note the use of the term 'madrigal' and the inclusion
under that title of movements in recitative. The choral
movements are often of a contrapuntal character, showing
the persistence of the stilo antico.
In the years after 1600, in the hands of such men as
Domenico Mazzocchi and Giovanni Carissimi (c. 1604 to
1674), the incipient oratorio, like opera, gradually became
transformed, and on rather similar lines. The aria made
itsway in, and a Historicus or Narrator was introduced to
make clear the progress of the story.* Stage representa-
tion ceased, and the form became essentially what it is
to-day, the musical presentation of some sacred story, in-
cluding recitatives, solos, duets, etc., and choral movements,
all with instrumental accompaniment. The stories were
taken largely from the Old Testament. Carissimi, for ex-
ample, uses those of Jephtha, Abraham and Isaac, Job,
and the Judgment of Solomon.
In the latter part of the century the most notable composer
is Alessandro Scarlatti, equally great in opera and oratorio.
As in his operas he used the da capo plan of aria, and this

rapidly became normal practice everywhere. We may note
his Sacrifice of Abraham and Martyrdom of St. Theodosia, and
mention may also be made of his contemporaries Giovanni
Colonna (c. 1645 to 1682) and Antonio Qaldara (1670 to
1735)-
* The Narrator or
Evangelist was of the greatest importance in set-
tings of the Passion. Lack of space forbids any consideration of this

form, and the reader is referred to the article in Grove.
VOCAL MUSIC IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY in
In the 7th century oratorio was almost exclusively of
1
Italian cultivation, but the work of the German Heinrich

Schiitz must not be overlooked. His most important works
of the oratorio type are his three settings of the Passion,
according to St. Luke, St. John and St. Matthew, and his
Story of the Resurrection. The Passions are unaccompanied,
the solo parts Evangelist, Christ, Peter, etc. being in a
free recitative which has some affinity with plainsong. The
utterances of the 'crowd* are in four-part harmony and lean
to the stilo antico. The Story of the Resurrection employs an
accompaniment of strings and organ. Schiitz's style is
austere, but the works are remarkably telling in their
restrained 'affectiveness*.
The madrigal did not long survive the coming of the
'new music'. Works under the old title were still written,
but the traditional polyphonic style gave way before the
new influences. In the madrigals of Luzzasco Luzzaschi,
written before 1600, and in those of Monteverdi, we find
instruments used not as mere optional substitutes for voices
in the sense of 'apt for viols or voices', but obligatory, and
also passages for accompanied solo voice. The most sur-
prising of the late Italian madrigalists was Carlo Gesualdo,

Prince of Venosa (1560 to 1614), whose harmonic experi-
ments, much in advance of those of most of his contem-
poraries, well justify the epithet used above. He was a
'modernist' in the colloquial sense of the word. Frequently
he achieves great emotional expressiveness, and as a rule his
startling chord-progressions and modulations 'come off'.
This cannot be said, however, of the procedures of some of
his lesser imitators, such as Benedetti and Belli, some of
whose efforts sound like experimentalism gone mad. The
work of Gesualdo actually led nowhere, but it is interesting
as the final outcome of a style initiated by Willaert and
da Rore, and is well worth some study.
As a medium of domestic music-making the madrigal
gave place to the cantata, and large numbers of works of
this period which were published as the former might
ii2 A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
equally well be called the latter. In its most elementary
form the cantata was a short story told in recitative, with
a simple accompaniment, under the title of Cantata da
Camera or Chamber Cantata. As in opera and oratorio, the
aria soon made its way into the form, alternating with the
recitative. The accompaniment tended to become more
elaborate, and two voices in dialogue were often employed.
Carissimi wrote a number of such works, as did also Scarlatti.
Carissimi was the first to write cantatas on sacred themes
the Cantata da Ckiesa or Church Cantata, which was a kind

of miniature oratorio for one or two solo voices with accom-
paniment. In some of these cantatas the tendency towards
the typical iSth-century style of Handel is very clearly seen.
Especially notable is the introduction of florid coloratura
passages which obviously prefigure the kind of writing
which Handel used in such movements as Rejoice Greatly
in Messiah.
In England the secular cantata was very popular as a
substitute for the madrigal, monologues and dialogues
appearing in quantity. To quote Sir Hubert Parry in the

Oxford History of Music: The cardinal idea of the form is
the semi-histrionic presentation of some imagined situation
under domestic conditions, in which, without scenic acces-
sories of any kind, characters whose histories and circum-
stances are well-known to the audience, or personified
abstractions, carry on poetic discourse in musical terms.'
Such compositions were produced by Henry Lawes and
his brother William, Laniere and Goleman. Sacred can-
tatas, too, were popular, those of Pelham Humfrey, for
example, containing many fine movements.
The cantata, like the madrigal of earlier times, was for
domestic performance. Public concerts in the present-day
sense did not originate until late in the lyth
century, the
first being founded in London in
1672 by John Banister,
followed in 1678 by those of Thomas Britton. On
the con-
tinent possibly the first, as opposed to the more or less
private meetings of the various Collegia Musica, were the
Concerts Spirituels founded in Paris in 1725 by Philidor. It

must be remembered that the system of patronage to which
reference has been made involved the employment of large
numbers of musicians in the various courts, etc., and that
performances by the kapelle were always more or less private
affairs. Opera, of course, became public once opera houses
were established, but opera is not a concert in the accepted
sense.
In the paragraph above dealing with the madrigal men-
tion was made of the independent use of instruments as
distinct from their introduction as substitutes for, or doub-
lings of, the voices. This independent use was known

as
concertato. The derivation of this term is generally taken
to be from the verb concertare, to compete. The chief impli-
cation of the concertato style was that of contrasting groups
of performers, in particular of voices and instruments.
Although the word concerto (with the same derivation) is
commonly associated with instrumental music, its earliest
use was in connection with vocal works. Andrea and
Giovanni Gabrieli produced in 1587 Centi Concerti for 6, 7,
8, 10 and 16 voices, the first work
in which concerti is used
as a title. Of importance in this connection are the Con-
of Lodovico Viadana (c. 1564 to 1627),
certi Ecclesiastici
published in 1602, and a work with the same title by the

lutenist Molinaro. Viadana's concertos are for from one
to four voices, with a figured bass accompaniment for organ.
It was the independent part for the instrument which
justified the title.

The most important name in the early development of
the Giovanni Gabrieli, whose association
concertato style is
with St. Mark's, Venice, has already been noted. He was
the first to make any clear differentiation between vocal
and instrumental styles in such works, and besides this he
made great use of the possibilities of contrast between solo
voices and chorus, and between opposing choirs. He also
introduced occasional purely instrumental interludes or sin-
fonias.In his later works his 'modernity* is strongly evident
in every direction, not only in his use of the concertato style,
but in his illustrative treatment of the text, use of 'affective 9
intervals in the voice parts, treatment of dissonance, etc.
For such compositions as his motet In Ecclesiis (for solo,
quartet, chorus, brass and viola), the only appropriate epi-
thet is monumental. The effect of such a work in the
must have been overwhelming.
vastness of St. Mark's
The passed to Germany through Schiitz,
concertato style
the 'Father of German Music'. In 1609 he went to Venice
to study with Gabrieli, then at the height of his powers,
and in 1619 published his first really important work, the
Psalms of David> in which the manner of his teacher is
evident, together with an increased differentiation between
. vocal and instrumental styles. In 1625 came the Cantiones
Sacrae, to Latin texts, in which he goes almost to extremes
in his use of dissonance for pictorial purposes. In 1629
Schiitz paid a second visit to Italy, this time coming under
the influence of Monteverdi, and thereafter produced the
three parts of the Sympkoniae Sacrae and the Kleins geistliche
Konzerte (Little Sacred Concertos). In these works the
various movements range from small-scale monodies with
basso continuo accompaniment up to monumental composi-
9
tions such as the famous 'Saul, Saul , which are
on' the same
In all Schiitz's sacred works
scale as Gabrieli's In Ecclesiis.
there a notable intensity and sincerity of expression, de-
is
riving from the firm faith of the devout Lutheran. What-

ever the technical method or style, all is intended as a
means to one end the glory of God.
Schiitz was by far the greatest German musician of his
time, but two of his contemporaries are well worthy of note,
Johann Hermann Schein (1586 to 1630) and Samuel Scheldt
(1587 to 1654). Schein's Cymbalum Sionum (1615) shows the
Venetian influence, as does also Scheldt's Concertos Sacri
(1622), but both are relatively conservative in their har-
monic outlook, lacking any signs of the intense use of dis-
sonance such as Schiitz displayed in his Cantiones Sacrae.
The development of the musical side of the Lutheran
VOCAL MUSIC IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY n
service, at least among the 'orthodox' school as oppose
to the Pietists, offered suitable opportunity for the perforan
ance of such choral works as have been mentioned abov<
The hymn which at first followed the recitation of the Lati
Greed became replaced by a 'motet', which signified a piec
performed by the choir, and which might also go by th
title of dialogue, concertato or symphonia sacra. These move
ments were selected so that their subject had a close con
nection with the Gospel of the day and, as is pointed ou
by the great authority Albert Schweitzer, served as ser
mons in music preparing the way, as it were, for the spokei
sermon which followed later in the service. Ultimately th<
motet became known as cantata, but this term did not conn
into use in this particular connection until about 1700
being first employed by one Pastor Neumeister of Hambuq
in a series of text for such works. The motet was normally
based on a biblical text; the cantata was based on a 'com
posed' one, sometimes a poetic paraphrase of a passage o
scripture, and in any case designed to edify and 'point i
9
moral .
The normal cantata was arranged in the form of recita

tives, arias, duets, etc., and chorus movements, with orches-
tral accompaniment. Frequently a chorale was included
sometimes for congregational performance, sometimes not
Among the important composers of cantatas are Fran:
Tunder (1614 to 1667), Dietrich Buxtehude (1637 to 1707]
and Wilhelm Zachau (1663 to I 7 12 )- From 1641 Tunder,
a pupil of Frescobaldi (see Chapter 9), was organist at the
Marienkirche in Liibeck, where he established a famous
series of sacred recitals known as Abendmusikm. He was
succeeded by Buxtehude, who raised the musical fame oi
the church to even greater heights. Zachau was Handel's
teacher. The work of all these foreshadows that of Bach,
on whom they had considerable influence.
In England the concertato style is in evidence in the many
verse anthems of the i7th century. The term itself was
not used, but in the opposition of a solo erouo and the
fullchorus, and the use of independent accompaniment,
the principles of the style are present. Throughout the
century the verse anthem developed, though with an inevit-
able break during the Commonwealth period. The Puri-
tans had no objection to music as such, but, in common
with others of the more strictly reformed sects, would allow
but little, and that of the simplest kind, in their church
services. This attitude was adopted, for example, by the
German and mention was made in Chapter i
Galvinists,
of its effect on Bach's output while he was at Cothen. The
return of Charles II in 1660 brought about the establish-
9
ment of the 'Restoration anthem , in which the resources
of solo, solo ensemble, chorus and instrumental accompani-
ment are fully exploited. Simultaneously appears the 'Re-
storation style', characterised often by a distinctly secular
feeling which at times seems to go beyond the limits of
propriety. During his exile in France, Charles had heard
much of the bright music in favour at the Court of Louis
XIV, and it was this style that he required from the com-
posers of his Chapel Royal. 'The prime object of the court
music in England was to provide sensuous entertainment
and to serve as sonorous ornament. 3 * The serious style
of the early anthems, deriving from the Latin motet, went
out of fashion; the royal taste demanded easily compre-
hensible tunes, and rhythms which induced the tapping of
the royal foot. A number of common idioms developed,
including that of a jigging dotted-note rhythmfor such words
as Alleluia, though this was hardly specifically English, since
Carissimi uses it in at least one of his cantatas, in the same
verbal connection.
The most important composers were William Child (1606
to 1697), John Blow
(1648/9 to 1708), Pelham Humfrey
(1647 to 1674) and Henry Purcell. Purcell is in
every way
and in his work English music of the Restora-
the greatest,
tion period reaches its climax. Apart from his verse
anthems, he wrote a few 'full* anthems for from five to
*
BukofzeTj Musk in the Baroque Era.
eight voices, in which he looks back to the polyphony of

the Elizabethans, but without recapturing the true tradi-
tion. The style is inevitably strongly affected by the new
ideas which had developed during the century declama-
tion, 'afiectiveness', and the increasing feeling for counter-
point arising from harmony, as opposed to the old pure
polyphony. These anthems show, however, his great mas-
tery of contrapuntal writing, and in the creation of rich
and sombre sonorities he is unsurpassed.
Purcell's verse anthems often show the style at its finest.
Many are conceived on an extended scale, having accom-

paniment for string orchestra, with an introductory Trench'
overture and instrumental interludes between the verses.
His 'Welcome' and 'Birthday* songs, written to celebrate
such occasions as the return of the King to London, or a
royal birthday, are planned similarly to the anthems, but
while containing some fine movements are marred by the
fatuous adulatoriness of the texts. Of greater literary value
are the odes for St. Cecilia's Day, that of 1692, Hail bright
Cecilia, containing some of Purcell's finest choral writing.
To sum up, it will be seen that during the I7th century
music underwent a great revolution. The polyphonic style
and the modal system on which it was based both died
out. The flexible rhythmic principles which had their ulti-
mate origin in musica mensurata gave way to the relatively
rigid system imposed by what is sometimes called
'the
tyranny of the barline'. New ideas on the handling of dis-

sonance came to the fore, together with a new attitude
to the treatment of words, and the use of voices in general.
And over all looms the shadow of instrumental music,
gradually ousting the old conceptions of vocal polyphony.
It is a century of transition, amazingly fertile in new ideas,
and producing much music that is of far more than merely
historical interest. Yet it can now be seen as a time of
of the
preparation, in which were laid the foundations
towering edifices erected by Handel and Bach.
RECORDS
H.M.S. Vol. 4, No. 44, Vol. 5 Nos. 45 to 54, andVol. 6, Nos. 57
and 58.
See also: Italian i6th- and 17th-century arias

CHAPTER NINE
INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC
IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY
have seen in Chapter 8 how fertile the
WE
It
century was in the development of new vocal
forms; it was equally so on the instrumental side.
saw the expansion of dance-pairs into the suite, the rise
of the sonata, the concerto, the chorale prelude and other
forms of organ music, and the transformation of the ricercare
into the fugue. Besides all this, there was the achievement
of a truly instrumental style of writing, as opposed to the
often tentative efforts of the preceding century, and the
rise of important schools of violinists and organists. These
were the most important developments, paving the way for
the supreme works of genius of Bach and Handel in the
firsthalf of the i8th century, and it will be necessary to
trace the course of each one separately. Before doing so,
however, we must deal further with the viols and their
music.
In the i
yth century the use of the viols gradually died
out, and they were supplanted by the violin and its larger
brethren, the viola and violoncello. This was due largely
to a change of taste, corresponding in a way to the change
which now preferred the solo voice, interpreting the 'affec-
5
tion of the words, to the old polyphonic complexity of the
c
madrigalists. The highest value was set upon those instru-

ments that were best equipped for producing singing tone,
and thus for competing with the human voice in tender-
ness,mellowness and emotional expressiveness. . . The .
violinbecame the queen of all the instruments, outstrip-

9*
ping her elder sister, the sombre and heavy viol. The
home of violin-making was Italy, the principal workshops
*
Geiringer, Musical Instruments*
lao A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
being first at Brescia, and later at Cremona, where the
Amati family produced instruments with unsurpassed
beauty of tone. The greatest of the Amatis was Nicolo, of
the third generation. Even greater, perhaps, was the work
of his pupil Antonio Stradivari (1644 to 1737), whose
remain supreme examples of artistic craftsmanship.
violins
Almost equally great was Giuseppe Guarneri ( 1 687 to 1 742) .
The viols did not surrender their supremacy without a

struggle, and in England especially their use persisted
almost to the end of the century. Thereafter only the bass
viola da gamba survived in use to some extent Bach uses
it for the accompaniment to one of the arias in his St. Matthew
Passion of1
729 but with the death of the virtuoso Carl
Friedrich Abel hi 1787 the viol died too. Among those
who opposed the violin may be mentioned Thomas Mace
(c. 1620 to 1710), a lay clerk of Trinity College, Cambridge,
who, in his Musick's Monument of 1676, inveighs bitterly
against the violins and their music, and looks back regret-
fully to thegood old days of polyphonic viol music.
In England, Fancies for viols were written until late in
the century, important composers being Alfonso Ferrabosco,
William Lawes, John Cooper (who, presumably for reasons
of prestige, Italianised his name to Giovanni Coperario),
John Jenkins, and above all Purcell. The quality of their
work is apt to be variable, and often shows the intermediate
hovering between the modal system and the major and
minor scales. Purcell's Fancies at times reach great heights
of emotional intensity and are by far the finest of all; they
were also the last to be written. The weakness of the Fancy
as a form lay in its tendency to be split up into a number
of often unrelated sections, a natural consequence of its
derivation from the motet or madrigal. But whereas in
the vocal forms the words gave logic to the musical plan,
the Fancy had no such solid guiding principle. The com-
poser would work a point of imitation for as long, or as
briefly, as he chose; and despite the beauty of many indi-
vidual passages, the impression sometimes remains that
INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC IN SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 121
there was no particular reason why any given section

should last as long as it does, or, alternatively, why it
should not have been expanded to twice its length. True,
the idea of the form was that the composer could 'follow
the dictates of his fancy', but this did not necessarily lead
to structural logic and stability.
Another aspect of viol playing which survived in England
until the end of the century was the improvisation of
variations or 'divisions' on a ground bass. This art is
dealt with in Christopher Sympson's Division Violist of
1659-
To turn now development of instrumental forms
to the
in the yth century. We have noted that the suite originated
i
in the pairing of such dances as the pavane and galliard.

Quite early in the century the dancing of these went out
of fashion, their place being taken by another slow-quick
pair, the Allemande* and the Cowrante or Coranto. At this
time there was a fairly well-established and definite sequence
of formal ballroom dances, the ball regularly beginning with
a slow dance followed by a quick one. After the Courante
composers of suites most often added a slow Sarabande, fol-
lowed perhaps by other dances such as the Gavotte, Minuet,
Bourrte, Jig (or Gigue). The whole might be introduced
by a Prelude. Apart from the invariable allemande and
courante, there was no set order or scheme in the suite,
and it may be well to mention that the basic group of
allemande, courante, sarabande and gigue, which is some-
by writers of textbooks on Form, applied
times insisted on
mainly in Germany, in the latter part of the I7th century
and the beginning of the i8th. English, French and Italian
composers treated the suite simply as a series of contrasting
movements, mainly, but not entirely, based on dances, and
bound together chiefly by unity of tonality, all being in
the same tonic key.
* It
sometimes stated that the Allemande was not a dance. This
is
is It was a stately court dance from Switzerland and
incorrect.
Germany, originating in the i6th century.
The dance movements were stylised, and their form
into a straightforward
rapidly became conventionalised
binary. The old three-section plan, so common in the i6th
century, was discarded, though faint traces of it linger even
into the i8th century, in some of Bach's dances.
It was in the lyth century that the great French school
of clavednists (=harpsichordists) arose. The founder was
Jacques Champion de Chambonnieres (c. 1597 to 1672),
harpsichordist to Louis XIV. His most important suc-
cessors were Jean Frangois Dandrieu (1684 to 1740) and
various members of the Gouperin family, of whom the
greatest was Frangois (1668 to 1733), known as Couperin
le Grand. The works of this school show a keen insight
into the character of the instrument and its possibilities.
Couperin in particularproduced a multitude of delightful

and ingenious pieces which he grouped into Ordres ( =suites) ,
often giving them fanciful titles suggesting their moods.
The Frenchmen tended to write very lengthy suites, includ-
ing not only dances, with or without 'fancy' titles, but also
a number of programmatic pieces, often in rondo form,
having no connection with any dance. Couperin's first
Ordre (1713) contains no fewer than eighteen movements,
of which only eight are dances. He achieved a delicacy
and economy of means which have for long been charac-
of the best of French music.
teristic
In England the outstanding figure is once again Purcell,
whose harpsichord 'Lessons' exhibit his natural tunefulness
and his strong grasp of a true keyboard style. His suites
generally begin with a prelude, and like Couperin he retains
the orthodox allemande and courante; but after that,
anything may happen.
In Germany the first important name in connection with
the suite is that of Johann Jacob Froberger (1616 to 1667),
whose style was to some extent modelled on that of die
French school. He was followed by Johann Adam Reinken
(1623 to 1722), Buxtehude, Georg Muffat (c. 1645 to 1 1 Q
and others, all of whom were more or less influenced by
the French style. With Buxtehude we find

strict adherence
to the 'textbook' order of allemande, courante, sarabande
and gigue, which remained the standard in Germany until
the suite died out in the middle of the i8th century.
In Italy the suite went by the name of sonata da camera*
or chamber sonata, as distinct from the sonata da chiesa or
church sonata, to be dealt with later. The earliest chamber
sonatas, e.g. those of Tarquinio Merula,f published in 1637,
were not restricted to dances, but were merely suitable for
secular rather than for sacred (church) use. Twenty years
however, the distinction between church and chamber
later,
sonatashad become more strongly marked, in that the latter
were conceived primarily as dance suites. By the time of
Arcangelo Gorelli (1653 to 1713) the regular basis of alle-
mande and courante, introduced by a preludial movement
and followed by one or more other dances, was fully estab-
lished. Corelli was one of the founders of the great school
of violin playing in Bologna, and in this respect are associated
with him the names of Giovanni Battista Vitali (1644 to
1692) and G. B. Bassani (1657 to 1716). The chamber
men were written generally for two violins
sonatas of these
and da gamba (or 'cello), with a part for continue to
viola
be realised on the harpsichord. Such sonatas were de-
signated a fre, i.e. for three instruments, the continuo being,
as it were, taken for granted. The 'trio sonata', whether
chamber or church, was part of the staple fare of this
period.
The church sonata, like its brother of the chamber, had
at first no fixed form; it was simply of a character serious
* The literal
meaning of sonata, from the verb sonare, to sound, is
something played, as opposed to cantata, something sung. In this sense
it may cover a large range of instrumental music, and was so used in
the lyth century. The student may be warned to disabuse^ his mind ^
of any idea that sonata necessarily means a work with that title in the
style of, say, Mozart or Beethoven. Sonata, the past participle, was
originally associated with the noun canzona, a cawyma sonata (or can&na
da sonare) being a 'played canzona*.
t Not to be confused with the organist Merulo.

enough for use during a sacred and derived from
service,
the 16th-century canzona sonata. Such a work is the well-
known Sonata pian* e forte of Giovanni Gabrieli, a monu-
mental piece for two brass choirs (except that the highest
part in the second choir is for violin). In this, contrasts of
soft and loud are deliberately used for the first time. Sonatas
a tre appear
quite early in the i7th century, for example
in the works of Giovanni Battista Fontana (d. 1630), as
e
do also solo* sonatas for a single violin and continue. They
are of no fixed plan, but consist of a series of short sections
in contrasting styles and speeds. Merula produced similar
works under the title of canzone, as did many others, e.g.
Massimiliano Neri. Until about the middle of the century
9
the terms 'sonata and 'canzona' are practically interchange-
able, but the latter title gradually dropped out of use. The
plan and order of the movements, however, remained vari-
able, though it gradually became customary for one of
them to be fugal in style.
In some of the sonatas of Vitali, e.g. those of his op. 2 of
1667, we fin(l fairly strongly suggested the basis of what
was later to become the normal plan until well into the
1 8th
century. A slow introductory section, grave, precedes
a quick movement in fugal style. This is followed by a
melodious largo, and the work concludes with another quick
movement, sometimes in the style of a gigue. This was
established as the standard plan by Corelli, though he does
not always adhere strictly to it. By his time (his op. i
and op. 3, consisting of church sonatas, were published
respectively in 1681 and 1689) the distinction between
church and chamber styles was tending to break down.
His slow third movements are often of the sarabande type,
and his last ones gigues. This crossing of the two styles
ultimately obliterated the original distinction. The pre-
ludes, too, of Corelli's chamber sonatas could equally well
serve as movements for church sonatas.
The Italian style of sonata reached England in time for
Purcell to show that in it his genius was not less than that
of his continental contemporaries. His two sets of Sonatas

of III Parts are fully equal to other similar publications,
and he admits in his preface to the first set (1683) t^t he
has 'faithfully endeavour'd a just imitation of the most
fam'd Italian Masters',
In Germany the one really great name in the line of
sonatists is that of Heinrich Biber (1644 to 1704), whose
works have been described as 'the first German violin music
of any artistic worth at all* (Grove) Like Purcell, he shows
.
Italian influence, but exhibits also considerable individu-

ality and grave sincerity. His compositions prove that he
was no mean virtuoso.
The instrumental concerto was based on the same funda-
mental principles as the vocal one, i.e. the playing off against
each other of two contrasted groups. This is seen in essence
in Gabrieli's Sonata piarf e forte, and still more in one of
his canzonas, where a small body of instruments contrasts
with a larger one. Similar methods are found in the can-
zonas of other Venetians of the time, e.g. Neri and Francesco
Usper. Rather later we find sonatas for trumpet accom-
panied by string orchestra by such writers as Stradella and
Vitali, in which the idea of contrast is still more strongly
marked.
The essential principles of the style, as they are found in
the greatest examples of the form, those of Handel and
Bach, were first fully worked out by Corelli and Torelli
(d. 1708), both members of the Bolognese school, who pro-
duced what is known as the Concerto Grosso. The contrast
lay between the concertino or solo group, in Corelli's case
consisting of a string trio (two violins and 'cello), and the
ripieni or *tutti* strings. Like his sonatas, Corelli's concertos
fall into two types, church and chamber, the former being
for use before, during or after High Mass. Formally there
is little sign of any conventional layout; everything depends
on the contrasting of the two groups of performers. Torelli
established what was to remain the normal three-movement
plan quick, slow, quick. He exhibits, more than Corelli, the
is6 A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
the vigorous, pounding metrical pulsation
'concerto style'
in the and the general feeling of 'busyness 9 .*
allegros,
In some of the later concerti grossi of Corelli there is a
tendency for the first violin to take the lead over the other
members of the concertino. This led to the writing of 'solo 9
concertos, for a single violin with accompaniment by the
string orchestra. As far as is known, the first such works
were by Torelli, though they were not published until a
year after his death. In them the solo part begins to de-
mand a certain amount of virtuosity, but the emphasis
remains primarily on contrast between solo and tutti. (The
9
'display concerto, designed to allow the soloist to show off
his technical ability, was a product of the late i8th and
the i
gth centuries. In the period with which we are deal-
ing the technical ability demanded of the soloist was gener-
ally little greater than that required of the orchestra. The
same applies to the concertino in a concerto grosso.) Other
composers of solo concertos were Tomasso Albinoni (? 1674
to Z
745) an d Giuseppe Jacchini, who wrote the first 'cello
concerto.
Further progress was made by Antonio Vivaldi (c. 1676
to 1741) of Venice, who also made considerable advances
in violin technique. In he varied the com-
his concerti grossi
position of the sometimes using a group of wind
concertino,
instruments. More than Torelli he exploits what has been
called the 'relentless mechanical beat of the concerto
style',f and in the strength and character of his themes
he often anticipates Bach, who, indeed, learned much
from the study of his works. Among Vivaldi's Venetian
contemporaries who emulated his style are Francesco
Gasparini (1668 to 1727), Benedetto Marcello (1686 to
*
Lack of space forbids any consideration of the structural
principles
of the movements. The form used for the
allegros is generally known as
Ritornello form, and the reader is referred to R. O. Morris's The Structure
of Music for a simple explanation of it. The Introduction to Vol. 3 of
Tovey's Essays in Musical Analysis contains a most illuminating discussion
of the form.
t Bukofzer, Music in the Baroque Era.

1739) and Giuseppe Valentin! (b. c. 1680). In the next

generation comes Francesco Geminiani (1674 to 1762). He
was a pupil of Corelli and Scarlatti and was rather con-
servative in his outlook. He used a string quartet for
concertino^ adding the viola to the usual trio. Much of his
lifewas spent in England (he died in Dublin), and he was
the author of the first 'method' for the violin, entitled The
Art of Playing the Violin. Rather younger than Geminiani
was Pietro Locatelli (1693 to 1764). His solo concertos
demand technical ability of a truly virtuoso standard, and
inthem we see the coming of a new conception of the
form. No longer primarily a matter of contrast, with
is it
the soloist as it were the

first among equals; the orchestra
now begins to recede into the background, as mere sub-

ordinate accompaniment.
It may be noted that at this time no concertos were
written for harpsichord. This instrument was used for the
continue, as a background. It is not until Bach's $th Branden-
burg Concerto that we find the harpsichord used as a solo
instrument, which duty it shares with a flute and a violin.
(There are also seven concertos by Bach for solo harpsichord
and orchestra, but at least five of these are transcriptions
of works originally for violin and orchestra. They are later
in date than the $th Brandenburg.} The earliest sonatas will
be considered in the next chapter.
In music for the organ, a vastly important branch, there
arose two great schools; the southern, based on Italy, and
the northern, based on the Netherlands and Germany. Of
the former, we have already noted the Venetian Merulo
as one of the founders. After him the emphasis shifts to
Rome, where Girolamo Frescobaldi (1583 to 1643), organist
of St. Peter's, was renowned as one of the most brilliant
performers of his day. His toccatas show a great advance
on those of the Gabrielis and Merulo in their careful plan-
ning of contrasted sections and their truly dramatic effect.
They also exhibit much greater coherence in the more bril-
liant passages, the vaguely rambling scales of the earlier
ia8 A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
composers being organised into shapely and logically de-
signed figuration. In passing, it may be mentioned that
Frescobaldi seems to have had an adequate appreciation
of the technical difficulty of some of his compositions. At
the end of one toccata he writes, 'non senzafatiga si giunge
c
alfm\ which may be freely translated as, you won't get

through this without feeling tired*.
Of equal importance to Frescobaldi's toccatas are his
organ ricercares. At the beginning of the century the ricer-
care, derived from the vocal motet, occurred commonly in
two guises. In one the same principle was used as in the
fantasia, i.e. it consisted of a series of fugal sections, each
based on a new theme. In the other, the ricercare sopra un
e
soggetto ( on a subject'), only one basic theme was used for
fugal treatment. This type had two possibilities. There
might be a series of fugal expositions on various modifica-
tions of the theme, or alternatively the theme itself might
be kept more or less unchanged, but used in a series of
expositions with a new countersubject for each. The ricer-
5
care 'on a subject was established by Frescobaldi, and
developed gradually into the fugue as we know it in the
hands of Bach. Like the fancy, the ricercare had the
structural weakness of being so highly sectionalised, though
5
in the examples 'on a subject this is not so noticeable as
in the other type, since at least one basic theme ran through
the whole piece. But even so, it was inevitably chopped
up in effect, and composers gradually realised that it was
more effective and satisfactory to work out the possibilities
of a single unvaried theme to the limit, rather than to piece
together a series of more or less brief snippets. Possibly
the most distinguished pupil of Frescobaldi was Froberger,
a Catholic Saxon, whose work shows increased facility in
the methods of organisation initiated by his teacher, and
possibly an even greater appreciation of the characteristics
of the organ. With him may be associated another Saxon,
Johann Kasper Kerll (1627 to ^93)> w^ maY ak have
studied with Frescobaldi.
The purely Italian school soon declined in importance,

the initiative passing to southern Germany. Besides the
two Saxons just mentioned, we may note Georg Muffat, the
last of the German Catholic organists of any real import-
ance. His most notable work is the Apparatus Musico-
Organisticus of 1690, which contains, among other things,
twelve toccatas. Structurally they are variable, but the
principle of brilliant bravura sections contrasting with steady-
moving passages designed to exploit the sustaining power
of the organ, as well as the inclusion of sections in fugal
style, still holds good. The toccata had not begun to
degenerate into a mere show-piece. In Muffat's work,
still more than in that of his predecessors, there is an
increased power of organisation of runs into coherent pat-

terns; the feeling for design becomes continually stronger.
In the north-west of Europe a school of organists flourished
whose work was based on the requirements of the reformed
faith. The father of this school was Jan PieterszoonSweelinck
(1562 to 1621) of Amsterdam. The organs of the Nether-

lands and northern Germany had already a well-developed
pedal department, unlike those of Italy, and Sweelinck pro-
vides some of the earliest examples of independent pedal
parts. He is most notable for his development of the
ricercare into the fully worked-out fugue, at a time when
the Italians were still content with the ricercare sopra un
soggetto.
Through his pupils Sweelinck's influence spread through-
out northern Germany, among the most important being
Samuel Scheidt and Heinrich Scheidemann (1596 to 1663).
Their contemporary Herman Schein (1586 to 1630) was
of the same school, though not a pupil of its founder. In
the next generation appears Reinken, who followed Scheide-
mann at St. Catherine's Church, Hamburg, and whose fame
was young Bach walked long distances to
so great that the
hear and play to him. With these men must be mentioned
two of Bach's uncles Johann Christoph (1642 to 1703) and
Johann Michael (1648 to 1694), and Johann Pachdbd of
i
Nuremburg (1653 to 1706), who serves as a link between
the southern and northern schools. He was a pupil of
Kerll, and so came to some extent under the influence of
Frescobaldi. A
little earlier, and perhaps the greatest of
all organists before Bach, was Buxtehude, born in 1637.

A Swede, he was for long the chief musician in Liibeck,
and Bach was willing to walk 200 miles to sit at his feet.
These are only an important few of a great galaxy of
Lutheran organists on whose work was founded Bach's
colossal superstructure.
The most important types of composition evolved by the
north Germans for use in the reformed services were those
based on the chorale. Luther's introduction of the chorale
into the church service was eagerly welcomed, and we
cannot do better than to quote Sir Hubert Parry, in the
Oxford History of Musk, on the subject: 'The influence which
the German chorales exerted upon the German Protestant
organists was of the utmost importance, and the serious-
ness and deep feeling, which were engendered in their
attempts to set them and adorn them, were answerable for
a great deal of the nobility in their organ music. . . . The
chorales . . . were a kind of religious folk-songs. They
came spontaneously from the hearts of the people, and had
their roots in the deepest sentiments of the race. . . . Upon
these tunes the organist-composers of the I7th century ex-
pended all the best of their artistic powers. The tunes
became symbols, which were enshrined in all the richest de-
vices of expressive ornament and contrapuntal skill, woven
fugal artifice, and melodic sweetness, which the devotion
9
of the composers could achieve.
Although the term 'chorale prelude' is used loosely to
describe all kinds of pieces based thematically on chorales,
there were actually four different types. The chorale pre-
lude proper, used in the service to introduce the congrega-
tional singing of the hymn (much as the present-day organist
was generally fairly terse,
'gives out* the first line or two)
the melody, decorated or otherwise, being usually in the
top part. In many cases, each line of the tune was pre-
ceded by a more or less free fugal exposition based on
it. This procedure was used by the early writers as far
back as Scheidt, and many fine examples were written
by Pachelbel. Although perhaps the commonest method
of treatment, it was but one among many, Kipling's
rhyme
'There are nine-and-sixty ways
Of constructing tribal lays,
9
And every single one of them is right
might well apply to chorale preludes.

Other types of chorale composition were (a) the chorale
fugue, in which the first line of the tune served as the sub-
ject of an extended fugue* also found in Pachelbd's work;
(V) the chorale partita,
or variations on a chorale
Pachelbel, Bohm and Buxtehude are important here; and
(c)
the chorale fantasia, which might be of considerable
length, designed to show off both the instrument and the
ability of the performer.
Besides works based on chorales, toccatas were popular,
those of Reinken and Buxtehude being the most notable.
Both men had first-rate instruments at their disposal, and
both possessed consummate technique which they were not
unwilling to display. The prelude and fugue, too, gradu-
ally took shape, but as yet lacked the intense concentration
of thought and economy of material which characterises
the greatest of those by Bach, By the time of Buxtehude,
and especially noticeable in his work, a purely instrumental
style of writing for
the organ had been evolved, free
from the influence of the old vocal style and exploiting
tie effective possibilities of the instrument to the highest
degree.
Summing up, we may say that during the lyth-century
instrumental music underwent as great a revolution as did
that for voices. In all branches the influence of the old
* Bach's so-called 'Giant Fugue* is an example.
vocal polyphony was shaken off; chord-progression, instead
of arising chiefly from the interweaving of separate melodic
lines, became an essential foundation over which the inter-
play of contrapuntal parts could be carried out. Purely

instrumental forms and a purely instrumental style of writ-
ing were evolved. The supersession of the modal system
by the major and minor scales involved new methods of
tuning, to allow for the possibility of modulation, i.e. move-
ment from one key to another. As long as music remained
basically modal, 'just temperament', tuning in accordance
with the natural laws of Acoustics, was adequate; but this
was not by any means satisfactory in dealing with a 'key
9
system , and a modification called 'mean tone' temperament
was first worked out. For a few keys around C major this
was good enough, but beyond two or three sharps or flats,
and especially in minor keys, the effect became more and
more unpleasant, extreme keys such as B and F sharp being
excruciatingly out of tune. The ultimate solution was found
in 'equal temperament' in which every one of the semitones
of the chromatic octave is slightly out of tune by strict
acoustic theory, but so slightly as to be imperceptible to
all but the keenest of ears. By the use of equal tempera-
ment all keys and all modulations became equally avail-
able. The first suggestion of this method of tuning appears
in a work of the Spaniard Ramos de Pareja, in 1482, and
it is also dealt with by the Italian theorist Zarlino
(1517
to 1590). John Bull must have understood the system,
since his Fantasia on Ut, re, mi, fa, sol, la ranges through
every major key. In the course of the ryth century more
and more works appear in which equal temperament is,
at least by implication, taken for granted. Buxtehude, for
example, writes a toccata based on E major which, although
it does not modulate
widely, would nevertheless be unbear-
able on anything but a 'tempered' instrument. And a
number of works appeared containing pieces in most of
the twenty-four possible keys. A suite by Andreas Werck-
meister (1645 to 1706) uses seventeen of them, while Johann
Ferdinand Fischer (d. c. 1738) in his Ariadne Musica adds

two more. The eventual outcome was, of course, Bach's
Forty-eight, of which the full title was The Well-Tempered
Clavier* two preludes and fugues in each of the twenty-
four major and minor keys.
RECORDS
Composer Title Recorded by Cat. JVb.
Corelli Oboe concerto Rothwell/HO HMV C354O
Christmas concerto LSO HMV 063639/40
Sonata D min. ('cello) Stocker NLP PLP54O
Vivaldi Concerto D min. (oboe) Goossens Col. 0X8367/8
Concerto A min. (four NLP HLPi024
harpsichords)
Couperiu Various records, sold insets, not separately, are obtainable
in the HMV Society Edition. The works are played on
the harpsichord by Wanda Landowska.
Frescobaldi Toccata sopra i pedali
Fantasia No. 10 (echo)/
\. Videro
-,
HMV
Sweelinck
Scheldt Variations on Da Jesus Videro HMV DB52I3
an dem Kreuze stand
Buxtehude Prelude and Fugue, G Videro HMV 035248
min.
Purcell Suite in 5 pieces (arr. Wood/QHO De. AK975/6
Henry Wood)
* Clavier
literally means keyboard, and is used in this period to
cover both harpsichord and clavichord.
CHAPTER TEN
THE AGE OF BACH AND HANDEL
Y 1HE half of the eighteenth century is over-
first
|
I shadowed by the colossal genius of Bach and Handel.
JL There are, however, certain lesser but by no means
composers who may first be briefly considered.
negligible
Of these the most striking and important is Domenico
Scarlatti (1685 to 1757), son of Alessandro.
and
Although he wrote a number of operas,
cantatas
other vocal works, Scarlatti is chiefly famous for his harp-
sichord sonatas. He was the great virtuoso of his time,
with outstanding technique and an almost fantastic insight
into the possibilities of his instrument. In these respects
he is to Liszt, taking the art of playing and
comparable
ultimate limit. Despite
writing for the harpsichord to the
the advances made in keyboard technique since his day,
many of his works remain quite difficult enough for any
but the above-average player, the more so since their tex-
ture is always so economical. Arrangements of some of
his pieces by such igth-century virtuosi as von Biilow are
in a easier than the originals, since in the latter there
way
is no room for error of any kind. In this, Scarlatti is com-
parable to Mozart. Any pianist knows that such a piece
as Mozart's Rondo in A minor, so deceptively simple, is far
more testing than, say, a Liszt Rhapsody,
where the occa-
sional handful of wrong notes (though hardly to be recom-
mended) may be lost in the welter of sound.
Scarlatti wrote over 500 sonatas, many under the title
of Exercises for Harpsichord. The majority are short one-
movement affairs in binary form, though there are a num-
ber which subdivide into a series of movements. See, for
example, the sonata in G
minor (Longo 36),* in four
* The standard edition is that of Longo, published by Ricordi.
THE AGE OF BACH AND HANDEL 135
contrasted based on the same tonic key. In his

sections, all
use of binary form Scarlatti shows some notable features,
the most important being his frequent employment of 'cor-
responding cadence figures'. The last section of the first
part, generally in the dominant or relative major key, and
ranging from a few bars to something quite extensive, is
reproduced in the tonic at the end of the second part.
This is to some extent a foreshadowing of the 'second sub-
9
ject group which is a normal feature of the sonata form

of the next generation. But Scarlatti is far from being
rigid or stereotyped in his handling of form. It may be
fundamentally binary, but the organisation of the internal
details is infinitely variable and, it may be said, is a fas-
cinating study. Equally important is his frequent use of

contrasting moods within a single movement. In the greater
part of instrumental music of all kinds up to about the
middle of the i8th century we find the principle of 'one
movement, one mood*; changes in the emotional tempera-
ture take place only within narrow limits. An opening
mood of vigour and cheerfulness is maintained through-
out, as is, similarly, a sad mood or a reflective one, and
so on. Any concerto of the period furnishes an adequate
example of this consistency. But with Scarlatti we often
find quite strong, almost capricious changes. For example,
in Longo No. 12, D major, in both halves of the binary
form there is a sudden change, after a bar's rest, from a
bright and happy major-key start to a really mournful,
minor-key continuation. Here again Scarlatti in a way
looks forward to the practice of later generations, in whose
sonata form movements a vigorous, rhythmic first subject
may be opposed by a melodious and strongly contrasted
second group.
The first clavier sonatas, as distinct from suites, were
written by Johann Kuhnau (1660 to 1722), who was Bach's
immediate predecessor as Cantor at St. Thomas's, Leipzig,
These sonatas are in three or more movements, and include

Six Biblical Sonatas, remarkable instances of programme
music. We
have seen that in the i6th century a certain
amount of illustrative music was written, and the principle
was carried on in, for example, the suites of the French
9
lutenists and clavednists. But apart from 'battle pieces,
the 'story programme was rare. Kuhnau, however, took
5
Old Testament stories and illustrated them step by step,

in separate movements, with elucidatory comments above
the music. At times he indulges in rather naive attempts
at realism, as, for example, in The Combat between David and
Goliath, where the flight of the stone
from David's sling is
expressed (perhaps not altogether so naively) thus:
Ex. 19
followed, as the commenting text informs us, by the fall
of Goliath:
Ex. 20
Contemporary with Kuhnau was the Belgian J. B.

Loeillet,who is less widely known than he deserves to be.
In his sonatas for flute or oboe he often achieves really
remarkable emotional intensity, and occasionally produces
a movement quite worthy of Bach.
Rather younger was Joachim Quantz (1697 to 1773),
a brilliant flautist and a sound musician. In his treatise

on flute playing he has much of value to say about inter-
pretation and musical aesthetics. He refers to Bach as 'a
man worthy of admiration', butthis is in connection with
his organ playing. From 1741 to his death, Quantz was
flautist and composer to Frederick the Great, and in this
position had the possibly uncomfortable privilege of teach-

ing that monarch to play the flute.His output of works
for his instrument concertos, trios, solos, etc. was im-
mense, and, like Vivaldi's interminable list ofconcerti grossi,
shows how composers of the time, the 'Age of Patronage*,
were forced by the conditions of their appointments to go
on turning out work after work to satisfy the demands of
their employers. The amazing thing is not so much that
they were able to do this, as that the quality is often so
high. Quantz, for example, though by no means a com-
poser of the first rank, nevertheless rarely falls below a high
level of competence. The difficulties under which the 'tied'
composer might labour are made clear in the Letters of an

Attentive Traveller by J. F. Reichardt, who was for a time
kapellmeister to Frederick the Great. Writing in 1774, he

contrasts the operas of Hasse and Graun. He points out
that Hasse, serving a sympathetic master at the Dresden
6
court, worked freely and, unhampered by the taste or will
of any person, wrote as he felt and as he wished. . . .
Graun, on the other hand, less generally known, worked
only according to the taste of his king [Frederick]; what
failed to please him was struck out, even though it were
the best piece in the opera.'
In Germany alone there were over three hundred states,
ranging from important and extensive ones like that of
Prussia, to others which were quite insignificant. But wher-
ever (and however) the money could be found, the Arts,
especially Music, were cultivated, after the
fashion set by
Louis XIV. The rulers of such states vied with each other
in the size of their kapelle, the magnificence of their opera
houses, and in their efforts to obtain the services of the
most
famous musicians of the time. This system had its advant-
ages, in that the musician might be assured of a reasonably
safe livelihood, and with the right land of employer might
be able, like Hasse, to 'write as he felt and as he wished 9
.
But a ruler like Frederick might, from the point of view

of musical progress, be a distinct handicap.
Johann Sebastian Bach and George Frederick Handel
were born in the same year as Scarlatti, 1685; Bach at
Eisenach in Thuringia, on March aist (Old Style); Handel
at Halle in Saxony, on February 23rd. It would be a
ridiculous overstatement to suggest that there any resem-
blance ceases, but there are sufficient fundamental differ-
ences between the two men and their work to warrant a
seriesof comparisons.
Bach came of a long line of professional musicians;*
Handel's family tree seems to have provided him with no
musical ancestors. Bach was trained to be a professional
musician as a matter of course; Handel had to overcome
paternal opposition. He was intended for the Law, and
although his father died in 1696, it was not until 1703,
when he had finished his course of study at the university
of Halle, that he was free to follow his own inclinations.
Handel was widely travelled; Bach remained all his life
within one narrow area in central Germany, his longest
journey being to Liibeck in 1 705, to hear Buxtehude. Bach
married twice and was the father of twenty children; Handel
remained a bachelor all his life. Handel was a master of
opera; Bach never touched that form.f Bach was a devout
Lutheran (his library at his death consisted largely of theo-
logical works); Handel's faith, while doubtless equally sin-
cere, was of a less strictly doctrinal character. Handel was
*
t
Space forbids the tracing of Bach's ancestry. The founder of the
line was one Hans Bach, who was living in 1561; Johann Sebastian
was his great-great-great grandson. Some sixty of the family have
been identified by name, fifty-three of them being musicians.
t His attitude to opera is attested by his remark to his eldest son:
*WeU, Friedemann, shall we go over to Dresden to hear the pretty
tunes?' See G. S. Terry, Back, a P: iL -
for much of his life a freelance; Bach was always in the
service of either the Church or some princely court. Such
a of contrasts could be extended almost indefinitely,
list
and perhaps the most important of all is that Handel always

tended to bear in mind the taste of his public, though he
never merely pandered to it, whereas Bach wrote simply
to satisfy his own conscience. We can
generally feel that
Handel, to put it colloquially, had an eye on the man in
the back row of the gallery. Bach was but little concerned
with the effect of his music on his audience, an attitude
which at times drew the censure of his employers. Unfor-
tunately for posterity, the two men never met, though on
two occasions Bach endeavoured to get in personal touch
with his great contemporary. In one
respect at least their
characters were similar neither seems to have suffered fools
gladly. Both seem to have had a certain streak of obstinacy,
which in Bach's case sometimes degenerated into what can
only be called 'cussedness'. When reproached by the Gon-
sistorium of Arnstadt for having prolonged four weeks' leave
of absence to four months, his reply was to the effect of,
'Well, you've got a deputy' and that seems to have been
all he had to say.
Handel's musical life dates from 1693, when he began
to study with Zachau. Zachau was a thoroughly sound
musician, and it is worth noting that a number of turns of
phrase which are generally labelled as 'typically Handelian'
are to be found in the work of the older man. In 1703
Handel went to Hamburg, being employed at the opera
house under Keiser. Here, in 1705, was produced his first
opera, Almira. Four years later he was in Italy, where he
learned all there was to be known about the Italian style
of writing, and where was produced, among other works,
the opera Agrippina (1709). In 1710 he became Kapell-
meister to the Elector of Hanover, who was later to become
George I of England. His only other comparable appoint-
ment was in the same capacity to the Duke of Chandos,
from 1717 to 1720, for whose private chapel he wrote the
twelve Chandos anthems. In them he showed that he had
nothing to learn of the art of choral writing for the English
rite. Handel's first visit to London, in 1710, was brief,
but his second, in 1712, was the beginning of permanent
residence in this country.
From 1712 until his death in 1759 Handel's life as a com-
poser into two periods. Up to 1740 he was mainly
falls
concerned with the writing of opera, and thereafter with

oratorio. Until 1728 he was a director, with Buononcini
and Ariosto, of the *Royal Academy of Music', an operatic
venture begun in 1719 with the support of the king. Court
intrigue the king was at loggerheads with the Prince of
Wales and rivalries within the company itself caused the
final bankruptcy and collapse of the Academy, and in the
next few years Handel produced operas either in conjunc-
tion with the impresario Heidegger, or on his own.
In his earliest operas, Almira and Rodrigo, Handel shows
the influence of Keiser. Agrippina leans to the methods of
the Venetian school of Legrenzi and Caldara, with which
he came in contact in the early part of his stay in Italy.
Later works, e.g. his first London opera, Rinaldo (1711),
show the influence of his Neapolitan friend Alessandro
Scarlatti, and this influence persists, with much of its con-
ventionality, until Orlando of 1732.* From this time he
began to show less regard for convention, but public taste
was changing, and the purely Italian style was no longer
so favoured as formerly. This was partly due to the pro-
duction in 1728 of The Beggar's Opera. This was a *ballad
opera', and like all of its kind was in the vernacular, with
spoken dialogue. The subjects of ballad operas were not
mythological or historical, as were those of the Italian type,
but were taken from everyday life. There were no long
da capo arias, designed chiefly for the singers to display their
ability. Instead, many of the tunes were well-known con-
temporary songs. Ballad opera was a live, quick-moving and
* be noted that although Handel's operas were of the Italian
It may
variety, he quite often opens with a 'French* overture.
easily understood kind of work, which made an immediate

appeal to a public which had grown tired of the grandiose
artificiality of the Italian style. Handel struggled against the
current, but by 1740, when he wrote his operatic swan-
song, Deidamia, he realised that his day as a composer of
operas was ended.
As early as 1708 Handel had written two Italian ora-
torios, The Resurrection and The Triumph of Time and Truth,
in which the influence of the Roman Carissimi is evident.
Others had appeared at intervals before the final group
of master works of his later years, e.g. the first and second
versions of Esther (1720 and 1732), Deborah and Athalia
(1733). Besides these, mention must be made of a setting
of the Passion text of Brockes, in 1716, which is unfor-
tunately too little known. Of the few oratorios which are
now performed with any frequency, the first was Israel in
Egypt of 1738, which year also saw the composition of Saul.
Both were first performed in 1739. In 1741 followed the
best known of all oratorios, Messiah, and the last to be
written was Jephtha of 1751, though an English version of
The Triumph of Time and Truth, much expanded, appeared
in 1757, two years before the composer's death. In all
these works Handel shows his mastery of all kinds of vocal
writing. From the simplicity and fervour of / know that my
Redeemer liveth to the brilliant coloratura of Rejoice
Greatly,
every variety of aria is to be found, while in Israel in Egypt
the chorus for the first time becomes the protagonist. Of its
thirty-nine numbers, no fewer than twenty-eight are choral.
Although Handel was as capable a contrapuntist as any
composer of his time, on the whole he lacks the intense
concentration of Bach. A comparison is sometimes drawn
*
between their respective settings of the words Glory to God
5
in the highest , and may well suffice here. Handel, in his
version in Messiah, gives us an initial hammer-blow with
c 9 e
Glory to God , followed by a sudden hush at and peace

on earth*, an effect calculated to make an immediate appeal
to the non-musician. Bach, in the Christmas Oratorio, gives
us page after page of magnificent rolling counterpoint which
appeals more to the trained musician. Such movements
as 'Glory to God', or the 'Alleluia' chorus stand at one
end of Handel's scale; at the other lies the setting of the
9
first two words of Messiah 'Comfort ye one of the greatest
strokes of genius in the whole of music.
Apart from his operas and oratorios, there are various
suites for harpsichord, which show that Handel was by no
means hidebound in his attitude to that form. No. 2, for
example, contains no dances at all. The concerti grossi follow
the tradition of Vivaldi, as do also the various sonatas.
Bach's father died when the boy was but ten years old,
and he received his musical education at first from his elder
brother Johann Christoph, a pupil of Pachelbel, at Ohrdruf.
In 1700 he was admitted to the Michaelisschiile at Liine-
burg, where he remained for three years, coming under
the influence of Bohm, who was himself a pupil of Reinken.
It was during this period that Bach for the first time walked
the thirty miles to Hamburg to hear that great old man,
bringing back impressions which for long showed in his
compositions. At this time, too, he trudged sixty miles to
Celle, where he encountered music in the French style, and
again returned with impressions that remained. After a
short period in the service of Duke Johann Ernst, younger
brother of the reigning Duke of Weimar, Bach obtained
his first independent appointment, as organist at the New
Church at Arnstadt, far south of Lizneburg, but only a few
miles from his birthplace. While there, thanks to his will-
ingness to undertake long walks, he came under the influ-
ence of Buxtehude. In 1707 he moved to become organist
of Church in Mulhaiisen. The remainder of
St. Blasius's
his life hasbeen briefly outlined in Chapter i.
Handd may be said to have summed up the Italian style
of writing which had evolved during the I7th century.
Bach, studying and copying the music of both Italy and
France, adopted what he thought best from both and incor-
porated it into the essential German style to which he had
been brought up, and which he raised to the highest per-

It was for Handel to develop Italian
fection. opera and
oratorio to a point not hitherto attained. In all other
branches of music, for orchestra, harpsichord and organ, in
cantatas and Passions, Bach was supreme. Hardly acknow-
ledged in his lifetime as anything more than a composer
of competent kapellmeister status, and forgotten after his
death, the publication of ForkeFs monograph in 1802, and
the work done by Mendelssohn (who arranged, in 1829,
a centenary performance of the St. Matthew Passion) and
others, led to a revival of interest in his works which has
lasted to the present day and shows no signs of diminishing.
Theearly organ works, of the Weimar period (1708 to
1717), show much of the influence of the northern school,
Reinken and Buxtehude. Such are, for example, the well-
known Toccata and Fugue in D minor, and the great Prelude
and Fugue in D major. Their brilliant style and somewhat
loose construction are in the Buxtehude tradition, and they
reveal, incidentally, the young organist with a fine tech-
nique which he was not unwilling to display. With increas-
ing age and experience we find greater concentration and
tautness of texture, as, for example, in the great Passacaglia
in C
minor. This tendency reaches its climax in the works
of the Leipzig period, such as the 'Great* B minor prelude
and fugue and that in G major. The subject-matter be-
comes increasingly terse and the treatment of it more and
more intensified. Throughout his life, except during his
time at Gothen (1717 to 1723), Bach wrote Chorale Pre-
ludes, employing every possible method of treatment, and
adding always the intangible something which was the fruit
of his own genius. From his Weimar days comes the Little
Organ Book) unfortunately never completed, a model of
succinctness, a string of musical pearls.
Cothen saw the composition of the Brandenburg Concertos
(so called from their dedication to the ruler of that state),
in which the models of Gorelli and Vivaldi are raised to
the highest power. In them Bach varies the composition
of the a far greater degree than had any of his
concertino to
predecessors, and shows that

even greater rhythmic drive
was possible than had been achieved by Vivaldi. We may
note also the four Overtures (suites) for orchestra, the violin
concertos and sonatas, as well as many other purely instru-
mental works. It was at Cothen that the first book of The
Well-Tempered Clavier was completed (the second book dates
from 1744, at Leipzig). This has been aptly described by
C. S. Terry as 'his conclusive contribution to the contro-
versy raging round the tuning of the clavichord'. After
the Forty-eight there was nothing more to be said on the
matter.
To the Leipzig period, from 1723, belong most of the
cantatas (though some date from his appointment as kon&rt-
meister at Weimar in 1714), the latest and greatest of the
organ works, including the six 'Schiibler' chorale preludes

and those in the Clavierubung, the St. John and St. Matthew
Passions and the Mass in B Minor. This last, the first of the
great 'concert' masses, was written (and partly compiled

by adaptations from cantatas) to enable Bach to obtain
the post of court composer to die Elector of Saxony, which
coveted title he hoped might improve his standing with
the authorities in Leipzig. His rather prickly temper often
involved him in difficulties with them.
The great event in Bach's later life was his visit to Frederick
the Great at Potsdam, in 1747. This was arranged by his
son Carl Philipp Emanud, at that time in the king's service,
and resulted in the composition of the Musical Offering, a
series of pieces based on a subject given by Frederick. The
great six-part ricercare in it is a masterpiece among master-

pieces. In his dedication Bach refers to the king's 'truly
royal subject',and proceeds to treat it in a truly royal
manner.
Towards the end of his life Bach began work on what he
intended to be a complete exposition of everything fugal,
the Art of Fugue, but died before finishing it. Technically
it is stupendous; musically it stands almost alone.
With Bach, most of the great composers, we see

as with
maturity in age bringing an increase of intensity and
economy in his compositions. Technical ability, so great
as to be almost superhuman, is used simply to serve ex-
pressive ends; structure becomes more and more tightly
knit. The occasional straggliness of the early works gives
way to the concentration of the later ones. The difference
is noticeable even in works which are separated by only
a few years. Compare, for example, the treatment of the
9
words 'wept bitterly in Peter's denial in the St. John Passion
of 1723 with that in the St. Matthew of 1729. The former
is moving, but the latter, only half as long, is almost
unbearable in its despair.

With the death of Bach in 1750 and Handel in 1759 an
era comes to an end. Between them they summed up all
the tendencies of music since 1600, but by their later years
tastes were changing. The complexities of the contrapuntal
style were no longer acceptable, and such music became

known as 'learned', in a rather derogatory sense. The
development of the new style will be the subject of our
next chapter.
RECORDS
H.M.S. Vol. 6, Nos. 59, 60, 61, 66.
See also:
Composer Title Cat. No.
Scarlatti (D.) 8 Essercizi for Gravicembalo AP. 13001
8 Sonatas (piano) LM. 4541
Handel Two Goncerti Grossi LX. 3081

Oboe Concerto, G
minor KLC. 516
Harpsichord Suite DA. 1171
Messiah 33 OCX. 1146/8
Recital of Arias LXT. 2757
Bach Mass in B Minor 33 OCX. nai/3

Brandenburg Concertos LXTA. 2540, LXA.
3029, LXT. 2501.
Concerto for two violins APL. 9150
Cantata "Praise our God" LX. 3006
Bach (contd.) Cantata "Jesu, Joy of Man's
Desiring" LX. 3007
Toccata and Fugue in D Minor FAP i 8236
Fantasia and Fugue in G Minor
(orchestral arrangement) KL.C. 532
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE RISE OF CLASSICISM

the second quarter of the i8th century, while Bach
and Handel were producing their greatest works,
IN there arose changes of taste which involved corre-
sponding changes in the style of music. We have seen
how, at the beginning of the lyth century, there was a
swing away from polyphony (at least in certain cases) to
homophony. From about 1 730 onwards there was a rather
similar swing away from the contrapuntal style* to music
in which the stress was on the vertical aspect rather than
on the horizontal. Besides this, a lighter, less generally
serious style evolved, usually known as the style galant, which
aimed chiefly at grace and elegance. Broadly speaking,
such music was of a kind to be heard rather than carefully
listened to; it required but little of the mental concentra-
tion which was needed for the appreciation of, say, a Bach
concerto.
Anticipations of the new style are numerous, as in the
clavecin pieces of Couperin and his successor Jean Philippe
Rameau (1683 to 1764), while Domenico Scarlatti's sonatas
show a complete lack of interest in anything truly contra-
puntaLT The cantatas of Georg Philipp Telemann (1681
to 1767) and Christoph Graupner (1683 to 1760) show
leanings to the style galant, as does the work of some of the
successors of Vivaldi, e.g. Pietro Locatelli (1693 to 1764) and
* It must be
pointed out that this chapter will not deal with opera,
which is, of course, essentially non-contrapuntal.
t Dr. Bukofzer, in Music in the Baroque Era, suggests that in Scarlatti's

work 'the nearing classic style manifests itself openly'.
Francesco Veracini (c. 1683 to 1750). It is noticeable that
the traditional trio sonata now falls into disuse, its place
being taken by the solo sonata. The initial slow move-
ment of the sonata drops out, and the
movement allegro
takes first place, losing its and becoming
fugal character
homophonic. Thus, the normal plan becomes that of the
Italian overture quick, slow, quick.
It is at this time that the foundations of the clavier sonata,*
which reached its climax in the pianoforte sonatas of Beet-
hoven, were laid, the most important composer being Bach's
third son, Carl Philipp Emanuel (1714 to 1788). He
worked on the three movement plan. His first movements
are basically binary. Using the 'corresponding cadence
figures' mentioned in connection with Scarlatti, which were
also much employed by his father in suite movements, he
gradually increased their contrast with the opening material,

thus pointing the way to the true second subject group of
the later, fully-developed form. In his slow movements,
he shows a considerable advance on the practice of the
older composers, using a wide range of keys and styles,
and even indulging in experiments in recitative. Possibly
more than any of his predecessors except Scarlatti, he
achieved a true keyboard style. His important book The
True Manner of Keyboard Performance remains a mine of
information on the musical practice of his time.
Despite
his professed admiration for the works of his
father, he
seems to have held a poor opinion of 'learned music', and to
* The
ousting of the harpsichord by the piano took place in the
second half of the century. The piano was invented about
1709 by
Cristofori in Florence, being
distinguished from the older instrument by
the fact that its strings were struck by hammers, not
plucked. This
gave the player control by the fingers over gradations of tone; hence
the name originally used by the inventor,
grauicembalo (=harpsichord)
col piano e forte. The new invention was exploited in Germany by
Silbermann, who found Bach critical of his early efforts; the Cantor
preferred his clavichord. Later, more developed examples, which Bach
was able to try when he visited Potsdam, he found more
satisfactory.
By the end of the century the harpsichord was obsolescent, though as
late as 1802 some of Beethoven's sonatas were as 'for I
published
sichord or pianoforte*.
THE RISE OF CLASSICISM 149
have considered lack of contrapuntal ability no great matter.

The symphony began to develop contemporaneously with
the sonata. Works under the title of symphony, apart from
the sinfonia avanti Vopera, had been written well back in
the 1 7th century. There exists one of 1629 for two violins
and bass by Bartolomeo Mont'-Albano, and another of 1650
for two violins, viola and bass viol by Gregorio Allegri.
But these are really canzonas under another name. The
term 'symphony' was also sometimes used for introductory
movements (apart from opera), as in the case of that to
Bach's G minor Partita (=suite) for clavier. As an inde-
pendent form, deriving from the Italian overture, the sym-
phony really dates from around 1740, and its rise was at
least partly due to the establishment of public concerts.
The demand for symphonies became very great, and com-
posers found it desirable to write them apart from any
operatic connection. Such symphonies were, and still are,
sonatas for orchestra, their structural development follow-
ing that of the solo sonata for clavier or violin. The normal
plan was of three movements, as in the Italian overture.
To this was often added a minuet between the last two
movements, a carry-over from the divertimento type of work,

which might run to a large number of movements, including
various dances.
The early orchestras were small, and their composition
was variable. There was always a basis of strings ist and
and violins, violas, 'cellos and basses (whose parts were
normally identical) with harpsichord continuo. Above these
,
might be a pair of flutes or oboes, and two horns. Later

it became customary to employ a pair of both flutes and
oboes, plus one or two bassoons, two trumpets and two

kettledrums, the last two being omitted in the quiet slow
movements. Clarinets do not appear until the end of the
century.* Orchestration in the modern sense of the term
* The clarinet was invented
by Johann Denner of Nuremburg in
1694, and at first was naturally of a very crude nature. Handel wrote
an overture for two clarinets and corno da caccia.
I 5o A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
now begins to develop,* with some considerable differences
in the use of the instruments as compared with the pre-
ceding generation. In Bach and Handel we find, rather
naturally in view of their fundamentally contrapuntal tex-
ture, that little distinction is made in the style of writing
for the various instruments. A passage first stated on the
violins, and
entirely suited to them, may later appear trans-
ferred literally to flutes or oboes. Where these composers
show their appreciation of tone colour is in their choice of
instruments for particular movements.! This is especially
noticeable in the accompaniments to vocal pieces. For
example, when Bach accompanies the aria For love of us
my Saviour suffered in the St. Matthew Passion by a flute and
two oboi da cacda>% we can only feel that the colour is
entirely 'right'. Similarly with the solo violin which is
added to the quartet in the aria Have mercy, Lord, on me.
Quite as much as the voice does it express Peter's utter
despair. Examples could be multiplied indefinitely.
1 7th- and
early 18th-century orchestration was naturally
largely conditioned by the doctrine of 'affections'. As long
e
as the principle of one movement, one mood' held good,
anything approaching the kaleidoscopic changes of colour
which became normal in later ages was obviously out of
the question. One of the most important changes which
came over music in the second half of the i8th century
was the tendency to strong contrasts of emotional tempera-
ture within a single movement. In this, as has been pointed
out, Scarlatti was a pioneer.
*
Space has forbidden any consideration of Bach's use of the orchestra
in the preceding chapter. The student should realise that
although he
lived before the rise of orchestration in the present-day sense of the
term, Bach's handling of the orchestra was, in its own way, as masterly
as that of any later composer. But the whole method and
approach
were different, being bound up with the generally contrapuntal style
of writing.
^
t For a simple example of the early iSth-century style of orchestra-
tion the reader may refer to one of the oboe concertos of Handel. Less
simple, but possibly more instructive, are the first and third movements
of Bach's 2nd Brandenburg Concerto.
% The 'hunting oboe*, predecessor of the cor anglais.
THE, RISE OF CLASSICISM 151
In Bach and Handel we find that the wood wind and

the violas are expected to work as hard as the violins.
But in the new galant style the wind are largely relegated
to holding notes, their parts often being almost devoid of
melodic interest. The violas cling tightly to the 'cellos and
spend much of their time doubling the parts of their larger
brothers. The standard of viola playing was generally low,
for which reason composers of the galant period rarely gave
the viola a truly independent or important part. We must
assume that Bach and Handel took not inconsiderable risks
in their writing for this instrument.
As changed use of wood wind, we must realise
to the
that the style of writing was based, roughly speaking,
new
on a melody (in the broadest sense of the term) and a bass,
with non-contrapuntal inner parts. The upper strings did
most of the melodic work; the wind, plus the contimto, pro-
vided a background. But this must not be taken too liter-
ally; as the new developed so did the use and
style
individualisation of the instruments. Mozart made perhaps
more progress in this direction than anybody; even Haydn,
after all he had done to develop the new style, said late in
life that it was a pity he had to die just as he was learning
how to use the wood wind.

The list of early symphonists is lengthy. Among the more
to
important are Giovanni Battista Sammartini (c. 1700
1775), Baldassare Galuppi (1706 to 1785), on whose (im-
aginary) toccata Browning wrote his poem, Georg Christoph
Wagenseil (1715 to 1777), Karl Friedrich
Abel (1725 to
who, with Bach's youngest son Johann Christian
1787),
in London, and
(1735 to 1782) was active for many years
Karl Ditters von Dittersdorf (i 739 to 1
799). All these were
concerned with the gradual evolution of the symphony as
we know it. Specially important are Johann Stamitz (1717
to 1757) and his son Karl (1746 to 1801). Johann was in
of Mannheim,
charge of the orchestra at the electoral court
where his renderings reached a height of expressiveness
hitherto almost unknown. He was one of the first to make
i 52 A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
full use,in orchestral performance, of a gradual increase
or decrease of tone as opposed to the 'terrace' dynamics,
Le. 'block' contrasts of degrees of tone, of the preceding
9
period, and the 'Mannheim crescendo was famous through-

out musical Europe.* Mozart was greatly influenced by
the performances he heard at Mannheim.
The two greatest figures of the second half of the i8th
century are Joseph Haydn and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
Haydn, the son of a wheelwright, was born at Rohrau in
Austria on March 3ist, 1732. Like Handel, he seems to
have had no notable musical ancestry, but from a very
early age gave signs of talent. At the age of eight he was
admitted as a chorister at St. Stephen's Cathedral in Vienna,
where he remained until 1748. The pretext for his dis-
missal, his voice having broken, was a practical joke which
he had perpetrated on one of his fellows. He was now
thrown on his own resources, and until 1 756 was miserably
poor. He managed, however, to obtain and study the im-
portant theoretical works of the time and so gradually built
up his technique as a composer. In 1759 he obtained an
appointment with Count Morzin, with a small but secure
salary of about 20 a year plus board and lodging, and
proceeded to marry the daughter of a wigmaker who was
a perpetual cross to him until she died in 1800. It is extra-
ordinary that Haydn, saddled with a vixen of a wife who,
as he himself said, 'cared not a straw whether he was an
artist or a shoemaker', could write so much music of a
happy and carefree nature. As a composer he must have

been able to shut himself up in a mental world of his own.
From 1761 to 1790 he was in the service of the enormously
wealthy Esterhazys. The second of these, Prince Nicholas
'the Magnificent', who succeeded to the title in
1762, was
one of the greatest benefactors of music in the whole of
* Crescendo and diminuendo were
not, as is sometimes implied, Stamitz's
invention. They had been in use in opera since the time of Caccini,
and Geminiani employed them in instrumental music. Italian musi-
cians in the early part of the i8th century used
swelling and diminishing
of tone in all kinds of music.
the Age of Patronage. Although Haydn had to wear a

any other servant, his relations with his employer
livery like
were easy, his salary generous, and he was given every
encouragement, like Hasse at Dresden, to 'write as he felt
5
and as he wished . After 1790 he was free of any appoint-
ment, with a comfortable pension. Then followed his two
visits to London under the aegis of the impresario Salomon.
He died in Vienna on May 3ist, 1809, famous all over
Europe, honoured by all.
In Haydn we see the work of the early sonatists and

symphonists developed to a point from which Beethoven
was able to take his departure. The clavier sonatas are
built on the foundations laid by Emanuel Bach, to whose
work Haydn admitted he owed much. From Bach's more
or less tentative development of binary form he gradually
evolved the settled outline of the full sonata form. It re-
mained for Beethoven to develop real differentiation in the
character of thematic material within a movement. Haydn
was often content to allow a second subject to grow from
the first, the only real difference being that of key. Mozart
on the whole went farther, but hardly the whole distance.
Haydn is notable for his adventurousness in key
plan, far
beyond anything that Emanuel Bach ever attempted. In
the E flat sonata, op. 82, for example, the slow movement
is in the very distant key of E major.
The early symphonies (Haydn wrote altogether over &

hundred) are mostly in the galant style, the orchestra small
and its treatment relatively undeveloped. This was natural
enough, since in his early days the symphony was not con-
sidered a very important branch of art. Performances must
have been often rough and ready. As Sir Hubert Parry
says in the article Symphony in Grove, 'with regard to deep
meaning, refinement, poetical intention, or originality, they
(the audiences) appear to have cared very little. They
wanted to be healthily pleased and entertained, not stirred
with deep emotion; and the purposes of composers in those
days were consequently not exalted to any high pitch, but
were limited to a simple and unpretentious supply. . . .
Haydn was influenced by these considerations till the last/

In the latest symphonies, however, the two 'Salomon* sets,
composed for his visits to London, the mature hand of the
great master is evident; the former master of the galant style
has now become the great classic. While there is not the
emotional depth of, say, Mozart's great G
minor, the crafts-
manship is superb and the orchestration impeccable; and
the wealth of delightful ideas shows that increasing age
brought no diminution of inventiveness and. spontaneity.
Haydn is sometimes called the Father of the Symphony;
equally he was the Father of the String Quartet. In his
young days there was but little distinction between sym-
phony and quartet. The latter derived mainly from the
sonata for strings and continue, via such works as the quadri
of Sam-martini and his fellow-countryman Giuseppe Tartini
(1692 to 1770), an outstanding violinist of the generation
after Vivaldi. men occasionally dispensed with the
These
contimo, leaving the strings to stand on their own feet.
Besides such works were a multitude of divertimenti,
cassations and serenades, consisting of an indefinite number
of movements, and designed primarily for open-air perform-
ance. For reason they lacked a continuo part. Haydn's
this
earliest quartetsare of the divertimento type, but those of
op. 3 (the opus number is that of a publisher, not the com-
poser), dating from the middle 1 760*8, are more truly
quartets in the accepted sense. They are in four move-
ments, the third being a minuet. The inclusion of this
movement, as in the symphony, was a relic of the diverti-
mento, which often contained two or more. With op. 9
and op. 17 (1769 and 1771 respectively) we find the true
quartet style firmly established. The part-writing is of
greater interest, and the viola, in particular, is now ex-
pected to pull his weight with greater independence. The
six quartets of op. 33 (1781), written *in an entirely new
and special manner', are a landmark in their
mastery of
thematic development. We have
by now moved a long
way from the slightly developed binary form of Emanuel

Bach. The later quartets show increasing mastery in all
directions, including mastery of counterpoint.*
It is impossible to deal, even in the barest outline, with
much of Haydn's other work, but reference must be made
to his two great choral works, The Creation and The Seasons.
The former was the outcome of his experiences in London,
where he had attended various performances of Handel's
oratorios, and had been overwhelmed by their power. The
Creation was written in 1797 and, allowing for the inevit-
able differences in idiom, is the true successor of the ora-
torios of Handel. The Seasons, written in 1800, was on the
whole less successful. Haydn was in poor health and did
not find the libretto really attractive. He remarked that
whereas the characters in The Creation were angels, in The
Seasons they were merely peasants.
Haydn, apart from his natural ability, achieved his mas-
tery by struggle and hard work over a period of years.
9
Mozart, if not 'born fully armed , may be considered pos-
sibly the most naturally gifted musician who has ever lived.
He was born in Salzburg on January 27th 1756, his father,
3
Leopold, being a violinist (later vice-kapellmeister) in the

private orchestra of the Prince Archbishop of that city.
From his earliest years the young Mozart's great talent was
evident, and he received careful instruction from his father,
who was a musician of considerable attainments. (His
Method for the Violin was for long a standard work and is
to be studied with profit.) At the age of six, Wolfgang
still
and his sister Marianne, also musically gifted, were dragged

round Europe and to England as infant prodigies. Unlike
Haydn, Mozart travelled widely throughout his life Mann-
heim, Paris, Rome, Milan, etc. though his father would
have much preferred him to remain in a settled post.
*
Despite public distaste for learned* music, composers' training was
stilllargely based on contrapuntal practice, and both Haydn
and
Mozart were brilliant contrapuntists. The writer^has even heard the
opinion expressed, by a musician of great erudition and experience,
that Mozart was a greater contrapuntist than Bach.
i5 6 A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
with an eye
Leopold was of a careful disposition, always
to a steady income and the favour of his employer. His
son, possibly the most tidy and economical composer who
ever lived, showed increasing fecklessness as he grew older,
and when away from home was perpetually chased by
cautionary letters and admonitions from
his father. In
1782 he married Gonstanze Weber, having previously
had
an affaire with her elder sister Aloysia, thereby adding to
his difficulties with Leopold. As time went on he became
his friend and fellow
deeply in debt (his begging letters to
Freemason Michael Puchberg, always with promises of
speedy repayment, make pitiable reading), and, dying
on
December 5th, 1791, was buried in a pauper's grave out-
side Vienna.
Mozart's early works are naturally enough in the style
galant, but are distinguished
from those of his contempor-
aries by their superior craftsmanship and elegance. He
was at first strongly influenced by the style of Christian
Bach, whom he met as a child in London, and again, at
the age of twenty-two, in Paris. In 1781 he first met
Haydn, an encounter which turned out to be mutually
profitable. Although Haydn was the elder by some twenty-
four years, each learned from the other. From Haydn
Mozart learned much of the possibilities of form and ex-
pression; while from Mozart Haydn learned 'a rounder
phrase, a richer harmonisation, and a fuller command of
the orchestra' (Grove).
It is from this time that the clever young exponent of
the style galant develops into the great classic, in whose later
works, as in those of his elder contemporary, the elements
of structural balance, proportion and pure beauty are un-
surpassed. Not that the emotional side is eliminated; there
is much more than mere well-balanced 'patterning'. One
has only to think of the great G minor symphony to realise
this. But, with comparatively rare exceptions, the emotion
is strictly controlled; its free expression, so strongly charac-
teristic of the Romantics of the igth century, is not the

prime object. Occasionally wells up

it irresistibly, as in
the slow movement of the A major piano concerto (K. 488)
or that of the Sinfonia Concertante for violin, viola and orches-
tra; but it is never allowed to override perfect balance
and
symmetry of form.
In symphonies and chamber music Mozart followed
his
much the same line of development as Haydn. Both, as they
progressed, achieved greater mastery of form, greater tech-
nical mastery of the medium, and greater depth of mean-
ing. Mozart, as the shorter-lived, progressed
more rapidly
and possibly farther. Even more than is the case with
his craftsmanship is
Haydn, is pure delight. Everything
vital to the total effect, and there is never a note too many.
Above all composers, Mozart understood the art of con-
cealing art, and of obtaining the maximum effectiveness
by the simplest of means. Pages of examples could be
quoted, did space permit. For a single, superb instance,
the reader may turn to the second movement of the G
minor string quintet, noting how the cadence figure of the
minuet, put from minor into major key (a mechanical pro-
cedure if ever there was one), becomes the opening of the
trio. The incredible effect of this transformation can only
be realised fully, of course, in the context of complete
with such strokes of
performance. It is comparable only
as the first entry of the fugue subject in Beethoven's
genius
sonata op. no, or Bach's ultimate affirmation of faith
in 'Truly, this was the Son of God' in the St. Matthew
Passion.
No sketch of Mozart's work can omit reference to his
concertos. Brilliantboth as a clavierist and a violinist, he
wrote equally well for both instruments, but whereas the
last complete concerto for violin was written in 1777, the
last for piano was in the year of his death. It is in the
concertos for piano that we find, as in the later symphonies

and chamber music, the quintessential Mozart. In them
he exhibits the complete range of his style, from the gdan-
terie of the first, written at the age of seventeen, to
the sheer
beauty of the famous A major of 1786 and the tragedy of
the great C minor of the same
year.
On the purely technical side, the concertos show the
9
rise and development of the 'display element. This
had to creep into works for the violin as early
begun
as and the tendency was intensified as time
Torelli,
as Veracini and
passed, in the works of such composers
Tartini. With the gradual decline in importance of
the continuo during the century, the harpsichord and
the piano came into their own as individuals in con-
certed music. Haydn wrote a small number of piano
concertos, but the first of real importance are those of
Mozart. All are in three movements, lacking the minuet.
In the first movements there are traces of the old concerto
form of the preceding period, especially in the orchestral
9
introduction which serves as an 'opening ritornello .* The
second movement is most frequently an andante^ and the
finale often a rondo, sometimes of distinctly complex internal
construction. The display element is strictly controlled,
and of limpid clarity; the day of handfuls of notes, splashed
liberally all over the keyboard, was as yet far distant. In
his passage-work, as in everything else, Mozart means every
note to say something to the point.
At this stage we may pause to note the gradual speeding-
up of the tempo of musical change. (We do not use the
word 'progress* here, as it is apt to lead to misunderstand-
ing.) about 300 years for music to evolve from the
It took
beginnings of the old organum up to measurable music.

Then another 150 before Ars Nova appeared. Another 300
to the climax of the polyphonic style, and about 150 to
the masterpieces of Bach and Handel. But now we find
* There is a good deal of misunderstanding regarding the form of
these movements, and the frequent statement that they are in 'sonata
form with a double exposition* is not See Tovey,
strictly correct.
Essays in Musical Analysis, introduction to Vol. 3, and Hutchings,
Companion to Mozart's Pianoforte Concertos, for a full discussion.
t Which term, it may be pointed out, means *going*, i.e. moving, not
'slow'.
a new style reaching a climax in three-quarters of a century,
and we shall see later how further changes, both in outlook
and technical method, followed in comparatively rapid suc-
cession. It took over 600 years for the modal system to be
played out, but the major and minor scale system, at least
according to some contemporary musicians, is already,
after less than 300, reaching the end of its tether. But
this, of course, is purely a matter of personal opinion.
RECORDS
Composer Title Cat. JVb.
L. Mozart Divertimento and Serenade APM. 14084
J. C. Bach Sinfonias in E fiat and D ABR. 4005
Boccherini String Quartet in D LXT. 2680
Haydn Symphony in F sharp minor
(Farewell) LPM. 18397
Symphony in D Major (London) ALP. 1061
cx-
No. 2
Quartet in E Flat, Op. 64 No. 6 LXT. 2680
With Verdure Clad (Creation) DX. 1052
Mozart Symphonies in G, D and C PL. 10140
Symphony in G Minor LX. 3022
Symphony in C Major (Jupiter) LX. 3010
Overtures OBLP. 1088
Piano Concerto, A Major OALP. 1316
String Quintet, G Minor LXT. 2515
Eine Kleine Nachtmusik 33 OCX. 1 178
CHAPTER TWELVE
DEVELOPMENTS IN OPERA
must now retrace our steps to follow the
WE course pursued by opera from the point at which

we left it in Chapter 8.
In Italy, by the early years of the i8th century, opera
was bogged down in a mass of conventions, especially in
the Neapolitan school of Scarlatti and his successors. Sub-
jects for libretti were restricted almost, if not entirely, to
classical mythology or ancient history; there was a set
number of characters, the number and order of whose
arias were strictly regulated; ensemble numbers, except for
an occasional duet, were almost unheard-of. The action
of the story was carried along by recitative with the barest
of accompaniment, the arias, expressing the characters' re-
actions to the situations in which they found themselves,
being really outside the action and serving largely as media
for the singers to exhibit their vocal talents. The heroine,
for example, finding herself about to be cast into the deepest
dungeon, or led away to the torture chamber, holds up
the action while she expresses at length, and in ternary
form, her feelings on her predicament, her captors await-
ing the end of her outburst with exemplary patience. No
wonder Dr. Johnson defined opera, in his dictionary, as
e
an exotic and irrational entertainment' The irrationality
!
was in no way diminished by the employment of male

sopranos for heroic parts. True, many of the arias, as
separate pieces, had considerable musical value, but an
opera as a whole was, as Prof. Dent puts it,* 'just a con-
cert in costume'. The orchestra was small, mostly strings
with harpsichord continue, and the overture was often of
negligible value. In any few if any of the audience
case,
*
Opera (Pdican Books).
DEVELOPMENTS IN OPERA 161
bothered to listen to it. It had rarely any recognisable con-

nection with the opera itself, and served to cover up the
shuffling of feet and the conversation of the audience who
were awaiting the appearance of their pet singers.
In France the Lullian tradition was carried on by Rameau.
The subjects of the French operas were similar to those of
the Italian, but in the musical setting there was more insist-
ence on declamation as opposed to pure singing; mere vocal
pyrotechnics, as in the aria di bravura of Italy, were dis-
countenanced. Besides this, choral movements were a
regular constituent, as was ballet. The orchestra, too, was
used with greater ingenuity than was common in Italy.
Instead of merely providing a subordinate accompaniment,
itwas sometimes used, at least by Rameau, for descriptive
purposes, a possibility entirely overlooked by the Italians.
From very early times it had been customary to provide
between the acts of a tragedy, by Intermezzi.
light relief
In the period before 1600, for example, madrigals would
be sung, and with the development of opera a similar prac-
tice obtained. Gradually the Intermezzi achieved character
and coherence of their own. By the beginning of the i8th
century they had become little two-act affairs, which were
interlocked with the three acts of the opera proper, with
which they had no connection either in plot or music.* In
due course the became separated from the opera,
Intermezzi
achieving independence as an individual form. This inde-
pendence was largely the work of Giovanni Battista Pergolesi
(1710 to 1736), whose La Serva Padrona is the most famous
of all such works. Separated from the opera seria> the 'serious
opera*, the Intermezzo became known as opera buffd comic
* The writer was interested to find a similar
procedure occurring in
India as recently as 1943. A travelling company of entertainers whom
he saw alternated the acts of an historical drama with low comedy
turns. The idea seems to have been similar to that of the Intermezzi as
explained by Rousseau in his Dictionary of Music (1767), 'to cheer and
repose the spirit of the spectator, saddened by thoughts of the tragic
and strained by its attention to matters of gravity*. Though, judging
by the applause, the comedy turns did little to "repose* the spirits of
the sepoys who formed the bulk of the audience!
opera. It was bound by no conventions and so achieved
real vitality.
In 1752 an Italian troupe, Les Bouffons, arrived in Paris
to perform their Intermezzi, and almost immediately arose
the Guerre des Bouffons between those who supported the
Italians and those, more conservative, who preferred the
traditional French style deriving from Lully. Throughout
much of the lyth and i8th centuries Paris was an operatic
battleground the Parisians took their opera very seriously
the grounds of contention being mainly whether the
purely musical side, as in Italian opera, or the dramatic
side, as in the French, was to be considered the more
important. Pamphleteering was rife. The pro-French
writers complained that all the Italians thought of was
singing; the Italian faction retorted to the effect that the
French had no good singers anyway. Argument went back
and forth on the importance or otherwise of stage machinery,
dancing, use of chorus, etc., often conducted in a remark-
ably virulent manner. Among the more prominent pam*
phleteers were the Abbe Frangois Raguenet (b. 1660) and
Le Gerf de La Vieville. In England, Joseph Addison ( 1 672
to 1719) had manywitty things to say of the traditional
Italian style, while in Italy itself Benedetto Marcdlo
satirised the native opera and the vanity of the singers.
With the arrival of Les Bouffons warfare flared up vio-
lently, two of the most important supporters of opera buffa
being F. W. von Grimm (1723 to 1807) and Jean Jacques
Rousseau (1712 to 1778). The latter, in his Letter on French
Music, generally lauds the Italians and their performances
as compared with the French, concluding c that there is
neither measure nor melody in French music, because the
language isnot capable of them; that French singing is
continual squalling; * . . that its harmony is crude and
devoid of expression*, and so on. Finally, 'that the French
have no music and cannot have any; or that if they ever
have, it will be so much the worse for them
9
A
somewhat
.
startling condemnation of the national art from one who

only three years earlier had written strongly supporting

French opera against Rousseau himself wrote an
Italian.
Intermezzo, in French, in the Italian style, called Le Devin
du Village. La Serva Padrona, poorly received in
Pergolesi's
Paris at presentation in 1746, eventually made its
its first
way into favour, and had ultimately considerable influence

on French opera.
After Pergolesi, the great name in Italian opera buffa is
Domenico Cimarosa (1749 to 1801), famous especially for

The Secret Marriage. It is from this time that the tradition
of the French opera-comique, stemming from opera buffa, was
built up by such composers as Francois Philidor (1726 to
1795), famous also as a chess player, Pierre Monsigny (1729
to 1817) and Andre Gr6try (1741 to 1813). Opera comique
had spoken dialogue and, like opera buffa, was far removed
from the formality and heaviness of the Lully-Rameau style.
Its last great representative was Daniel Auber (1786 to
1871), who possessed a remarkable flair for writing works

which appealed to the least musically educated audience.
Like many of his contemporaries and predecessors, his
facility incomposition was amazing, his operas number-
ing including the 'grand' opera Masaniello. In
forty-six,
this work he showed considerable originality, and a rather
unexpected ability to handle the grand manner.

The Guerre des Bouffbns having died down, Paris was almost
immediately plunged into another operatic struggle, that
of the Gluckists versus the Piccinnists. Christoph Willibald
Gluck (1714 to 1787) began by writing successfully in the
conventional Italian manner. A visit to Paris in 1746
enabled him to hear works by Rameau, which gave him
cause to reflect on the possible weaknesses of the Italian
style. He was not the only one to feel that it had reached
a ridiculous pitch of irrationality; the Italian Francesco
Algarotti, in his Saggio sopra I'
opera in musica (1755)9 was
highly critical. He demanded, amongother things, that
the recitative should be given greater importance, and that
brilliant passages in the arias should be introduced only
1 64 A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
when really appropriate. He admits that occasional move-
ments by such composers as Jommelli (1714 to 1774) and
Hasse (1699 to 1783) are worthy of praise, but the general
tone of his complaint is that the true aims of the founders
of opera, a hundred and fifty years earlier, had been com-
9
pletely forgotten. As a 'concert in costume it might be

effective enough; as a dramatic unity it did not exist.
The results of Gluck's reflections appeared first in his
Orfeo of 1762. The most popular of the time,
librettist
whose works were set by all the most famous musicians,
was Metastasio. His libretti were designed exactly to suit
the conventions of opera seria. Gluck had set some of his
libretti, but for his new ideas he needed a writer of sym-
pathy and originality, whom he found in Raniero da

CalzabigL Orfeo was, however, only a halfway house, and
it was not until 1767, in the Preface to Alce$te> that Gluck
first fully expounded his ideas on what opera should and
should not be. In the dedication of this work he begins

by saying: 'When I undertook to write the music for Alceste,
I resolved to divest it entirely of all those abuses which . . .
9
have so long disfigured Italian opera. His aims, he ex-
c
plains, are to restrict music to its true office of serving
poetry by means of expression and by following the situa-

tions of the story, without interrupting the action or stifling
9
it with a useless
superfluity of ornaments . In other words,
to return to the methods and aims of the Camerata. He
deplores the undramatic formality of the da capo aria and
insists that the action of the
plot must not be held up 'un-
9
reasonably or wantonly . Further, 'the overture ought to
apprise the spectators of the nature of the action that is to
9
be represented and to form, so to speak, its argument In .
this he anticipates Wagner, who, a century later, insisted

that an opera begins not with the rise of the curtain, but
with the first note of the overture.* We may mention that
* Gluck was
not, however, the originator of this idea. In essence it
isfound in many overtures to Venetian operas of the mid-iyth century,
even to thematic material being taken from that in the main scenes
of the opera.
9
Gluck in his 'reformed operas used the orchestra to
accompany the recitatives, instead of the traditional
harpsichord.
Such theories, and their application in practice, did not
please the opera public of Vienna, which city had by this
time become the chief centre of Italian opera. In 1772
Gluck wrote, to a French libretto, Iphigtnie en Aulide, pro-
duced in Paris in 1774. Largely due to the support of
Marie Antoinette, his former singing pupil, it was a suc-
cess, and was followed by the presentation of Orphee et
Eurydice (adapted from Orfeo) and Alceste. The war of the
Gluckists and the Piccinnists broke out in 1777. Piccinni
was the protege of the Italian faction, and his Roland was
to be produced four months after Gluck's Armide. The con-
test was waged with great violence, and eventually the two
composers were invited to set the same libretto, IphigSnie

m Tauride. Gluck's version, produced in 1779, was a great
success; Piccinni's, two years later, was a comparative failure.
Even so, the argument was carried on after Gluck had
returned to Vienna.
Except for Etienne M&iul (1763 to 1817) the French
composers remained unaffected directly by Gluck's reforms;
Mehul's greatest work was the sacred opera Joseph. The
Italian conventions, however, gradually broke down, and
although in Italian opera the accent remained primarily
on the singing, the complete unreality and formality of
opera seria eventually passed
away.
In Germany a type of opera known as the singspiel grew
up during the i8th century. Originally it was related to
the English ballad opera spoken dialogue in the verna-
cular with interpolated songs but by degrees evolved into
something more approaching true opera, without recita-
tive. Singspiels were often based on everyday stories, the
mythological-historical subjects of opera seria being excluded.
Nor were there any conventions in the form. The initial
impulse seems to have come from the performance of a
German version of the ballad opera The Devil to Pay by
Charles Coffey, which had a great success in Leipzig in
1764, and led to the composition of a number of similar
pieces by Johann Adam Hiller (1728 to 1804) in conjunc-
tion with the poet C. F. Weisse, Hiller is often called the
father of the singspiel. Dittersdorf s Doctor and Apothecary
is one of the most famous of all such works.
Of Mozart's operas, The Magic Flute (which the composer

referred to as 'my German opera'), is described on the title-
page as a singspiel, while The Flight from the Seraglio and

the less-known Theatre Director are of the same class, though
much more developed in every way than the works of Hiller
or Dittersdorf. Mozart wrote two opere serie, Idomeneo and
La Clemenza di Tito. Of the others, apart from those already
mentioned, Figaro and Cosifan tutte are opere bujfe, while
Don Giovanni is described as a Dramma Giocoso, a 'humorous
5
drama But neither Figaro nor Don Giovanni is comedy
.
pure and simple. The former is in essence a social satire,

its libretto being arranged, by Lorenzo da Ponte, from a
comedy by Beaumarchais which at the time was banned

by the authorities. Don Giovanni, based on a story of con-
siderable antiquity, may almost be considered as a 'cau-
tionary tale'. Neither has the often trivial plot, nor the
trivial music, of the general run of opere buffe. They lie, as
.it were, between serious and comic opera, and are the
ancestors of such works as Strauss's Der Rosenkavalier. This

the composer describes as a 'comedy with music', but
again there is much more under the surface than mere
comedy.
There is no particular virtue in
trying to decide which
of Mozart's operas is the greatest. As with so many of
his works, he simply does everything better than any of
his contemporaries, always with the greatest simplicity and
ease. It is doubtful, for example, whether it would be pos-
sible to achieve greater beauty with a most elementary
harmonic progression and an almost static voice part than
Mozart does in the opening of the aria Dove sow in Figaro.
Especially notable, too, is his power of characterisation.
With only the minimum of resources, he defines each of

his characters with the greatest clarity.
As with Gluck, the overture is an integral part of the
work; that of Don Giovanni leads without break into the
first scene. (Gluck does the same in Iphigenie en Tauride.}
In the overtures to both Don Giovanni and The Magic Flute
there are brief references to music which will be heard
later in the opera. This is an important anticipation of
the practice of later composers; Weber, for example, used
material from the body of the opera for much of his over-
tures, while some of Wagner's introductory movements,
e.g. Mastersingers and Parsifal, are entirely based on themes
to be heard later.
By the end of the i8th century the old French tradition
of opera, dating back to Lulli, had disintegrated, but 'grand
opera' continued, however reformed. Plots became less
stereotyped as literary romanticism began to have its effect.
Stories were based on Oriental romance, on fairy tales, on
the chivalry of the Middle Ages, and so on. Musically there
was gradually greater freedom, and a tendency to carry
on the action continuously, rather than to confine the move-
ment of the plot to recitative or spoken dialogue. Con-
certed numbers became longer and more important, while
spectacular and melodramatic elements came more to the
fore. In all these directions Luigi Cherubim ( 1 760 to 1 842)
excelled, and we may note his Lodoiska and Les Deux Jour-
nees. Cherubini, Italian born, was for many years director
of the Paris Conservatory of Music, and was a learned writer
of technical treatises.
From the beginning of the igth century Parisian grand
opera became more and more of a spectacle, in accordance
with prevailing taste. The style is well exemplified in
Spontini's La Vestale (1807), Hatevy's La Juive, and reaches
its height in the operas of Giacomo Meyerbeer (1791 to
1864), e.g. Robert the Devil, The Huguenots and UAfricaine*
All such works demanded a large cast and orchestra,

spectacular scenic effects, and were full of brilliant solos,
large-scale concertednumbers, and melodramatic incident.
Although many of his contemporaries had hard things to say
of Meyerbeer, and whatever the underlying vulgarity of
much of his music, he certainly understood public taste,
in Berlin as well as in Paris. Wagner referred to him as
*a Jew banker who composes music',* but did not disdain
to learnand use some of his effective tricks of orchestration.
In Italian opera the solo voice still remained the pre-
dominant factor, but, as in France, the old insistence on
the mythological-historical plot faded away. The old con-
9
ventions died out, and 'romantic subjects came into the
picture. Concerted numbers, especially the 'concerted
finale', also began to appear. The greatest Italian of the
early igth century was Gioachino Rossini (1792 to 1868),
a master of melody, of the voice and of the orchestra. His
most famous works are The Barber of Seville (1816) (of which
the plot is actually the first part of Beaumarchais's story
of Figaro, Mozart's work being the second part) and William
Tell (1829). This latter was his thirty-sixth opera, and
after ithe wrote no more. In the remaining thirty-nine
years of his life he seems to have been more interested in
gastronomy than in composition.
Of other Italians, Gaetano Donizetti (1797 to 1848) and
Vincenzo Bellini (1801 to 1835) were chiefly concerned
with carrying on the tradition of opera as a vehicle for
vocal (solo) melody and technique. Both were accom-
plished melodists, but neither showed any great ingenuity
in either harmony or use of the orchestra.
We from about the middle of the i8th
see, then, that
century as great changes came about in opera as in other
forms of writing. In Italy, despite the continued insistence
on the exploitation of pure singing, convention and form-
alitygave way to greater freedom of design, and to a wider
range of subject-matter. In France opera branched out
in a number of different directions. The establishment of
*
Meyerbeer came of a German-Jewish business family. His real
name was Jacob Liebmann Beer.
opira comique helped in breaking down the old rigidity, and

although good declamation remained of the utmost im-
portance, a more easily appreciated and melodious style
of vocal writing evolved, together with the spectacular
element. Of German opera we shall speak later.
RECORDS
Mozart Operatic arias 33 OCX. 1069
Overture, Alceste LS. 6025
Selection from Orpheus and
JSurydice 19053. LPEM
Rossini Largo atfactotum (Barber of Seville) 0.1406
Una voce pocofa 7 ERO. 5038
Overtures 19041. LPEM
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BEETHOVEN
the latter part of the i8th century the 'Age of
Patronage was drawing to a close. The day of the
9
IN 'tame musician' was nearing its end, and the pro-

fessional composer, instead of being the paid servant of
some wealthy amateur, more or lessbound to provide
music to suit his employer's taste, became a freelance.
The change was, of course, gradual, and the old system
survived, dwindling, well into the igth century. The last
of the really great kapellmeisters was Haydn; Mozart, by
the time he was twenty-six, had been ignominiously dis-
charged by his employer, Hieronymous Colloredo, Arch-
bishop of Salzburg, and thenceforward had to make his
own way independently, as a consequence finding life none
too easy. Many composers still had their patrons, on whom
they relied for encouragement and possibly some kind of
periodical financial assistance; but it was no longer taken
for granted that the musician would seek an assured liveli-
hood in some salaried court or church post. Even when
such a post was held, as in the case of Liszt's appointment
as director of music at the court of Saxe-Weimar, the com-
poser expected, and was granted, freedom to write what
he wished and as he wished.
After Mozart the first of the great freelances was Ludwig
van Beethoven, born in Bonn on December i6th, 1770,
died in Vienna on March 26th, 1827. His father, a tenor
singer at the court of the Elector of Cologne, gave him
his first musical instruction, and he also received training
from Christian Neefe, who, from 1 783, was director of music
to the Elector. In this year, while still only twelve years
old, Beethoven became the 'orchestral harpsichordist'
BEETHOVEN 171
unpaid and thus

early obtained experience of a respon-
sible position. In 1787 he visited Vienna, where he had
a few lessons from Mozart, and in 1792 he settled there
permanently. Lessons in counterpoint with Haydn were
not a success and soon ceased, but he persevered with the
theorist Albrechtsberger until 1
795. Albrechtsberger, a dis-
tinctly conservative contrapuntist, seems not to have been
greatly impressed. At the age of about thirty Beethoven
began to go deaf, ultimately becoming completely so.
Although a freelance, Beethoven nevertheless accepted
the patronage, in the new sense, of many of the nobility
in Vienna. For some years he lived in the house of Prince
Karl Lichnowsky, who made him a yearly allowance. The
dedications of many of his works show that he was in close
touch with many wealthy and titled people.
In the work of Beethoven three periods are usually dis-
tinguished, though there is some overlapping. In the first
period we see the influence of Mozart and Haydn, the
obvious models for a young composer of the time, but
rarely without something which is essentially Beethoven
and nobody else. It may be a turn of phrase, an abrupt
and forcefiil manner of expression (as in the first subject
of the piano sonata, op. 2, No. i), a modification of the
conventional form (as in the last movement of the same
work), or any one of a dozen things. Beethoven the indi-
vidualist is always there. Notable, too, is the great inten-
sity of emotional power which at times comes to the surface,
as in the brooding of the slow movement of op. 2, No. 2,
and still more in that of the D major sonata, op. 10, No. 3.
Composers of the preceding period rarely 'let themselves

go* emotionally, and when they did, as is evident from some
of Mozart's letters, it was with a certain amount of trepida-
tion as to the reactions of their audience. Beethoven, like
Bach, was but little concerned with what his auditors
wanted; they had to take what he gave them.
The first period takes us to about the year 1802, in which
the second of the nine symphonies was written. But the
move into the second period was already under way, as is
evident in the piano sonatas of opp. 26 and 27, which include
the so-called 'Moonlight' sonata a publisher's title, not the
composer's of 1801, and those of op. 31 of 1802. In these
it is obvious that the real Beethoven, independent, forceful,
and entirely sure of himself, has emerged. The fury of the

firstmovement of the D minor sonata, op. 31, No. 2, is
something which had never before been expressed in music,
while perhaps only Bach had plumbed such depths as are
found in its slow movement.
In this second period are found a great body of works of
all kinds the third to the eighth symphonies, the piano
sonatas up to op. 90, the string quartets up to op. 95, the
piano concertos in Gmajor and E flat major, the violin
concerto, the overture to Coriolanus, the Kreut&r sonata
for violinand piano, the Rassoumovsfy quartets, op. 59, and
the one opera Fidelio, to mention some of the chief. In
many of them we are impressed by the enormous scale on
which the composer works, as compared with his prede-
cessors. For example, the miniature score of the whole of
Mozart's Jupiter symphony runs to eighty-four pages; the
first movement alone of Beethoven's Eroica takes
eighty-
one. This is not to suggest that greater length necessarily
implies greater value; Mozart was capable of packing into
a single page more meaning than many other composers
could achieve in a dozen. But Beethoven, like Mozart,
holds our attention from the first note to the last.
The compositions of the first and second periods show
a number of important technical advances, though it is to
be noted that in many of them Beethoven was to some
extent anticipated by Haydn and Mozart. In works of
the sonata type he tends to employ a wider range of keys,
though Haydn, as we have seen, was far from being hide-
bound. It was, for example, distinctly unexpected of Beet-
hoven to put the slow movement of his C minor piano
concerto in the key of E major. In sonata form first move-
ments there are instances of unusual keys for the second
BEETHOVEN 173
subject group as, for example, in the Waldstein sonata,

G major, where it is in E major. The structure of the
second group becomes more consistently complex (though
here he was anticipated by Mozart), and its character also.
If the reader will refer to the second group of Mozart's
sonata in F, K. 332, and compare with it that of, say,
Beethoven's Appassionato, or Waldstein sonatas, this will be
readily apparent.
In development sections there is a tendency to greater
length; every possible deduction is made, as it were, from
the material selected for discussion. The range of modula-
tion, too, apt to be wider than had formerly been cus-
is
tomary, though again Mozart pointed the way. The

development of the first movement of the Eroica symphony,
for example, at one point finds itself in the extremely re-
mote key of E minor. But in Mozart's G minor symphony
the development begins in F sharp minor, equally remote
from the tonic, and reached by a really startling harmonic
short cut. Even in quite early works, e.g. the last move-
ment of the sonata op. 2, No. 2, Beethoven realised the
potentialities of the coda. Mozart, yet again, had set the
ball rolling, as in the last movement of his Jupiter
symphony,
where the coda a comprehensive summing-up. Not that
is
Beethoven invariably wrote long codas; it depended on

whether he felt one to be appropriate. The first move-
ment of the Eroica offers an example which is almost a
second development, and shows the composer's genius for
holding our attention while arguing a point, as it were,
down to the last detail.
There is a tendency, too, towards greater continuity
within extended movements, the various sections moving

into each other almost imperceptibly. Often in the works
of earlier composers we feel that the bridge passage is
more or less mechanical padding, a link that has got to be
there, and that the second group is ushered in, as it were,
with a flourish of trumpets. With Beethoven the bridge
tends to become an integral part of the material, and
the second group, however contrasted, to flow out of it.
The scherzo in sonata or symphony is often assumed to
be Beethoven's invention, but he was anticipated to some
extent by Haydn, some of whose minuets, as in the quartets
of op. 33, approach the style. Beethoven, while in most
cases retaining the 3/4 time-signature, definitely changed
the character of the movement. As early as op. 2, No. 2,
we find a scherzo in which there is but little trace of its
ancestry. In the 5th symphony the literal conception of
a a playful movement becomes metamorphosed,
scherzo as
at least in the first and last sections, into something almost
macabre. The 5th symphony is a work of great import-
ance in the development of symphonic writing, and in it
we can trace the distance which Beethoven had travelled.
The very opening is a revelation. There is no concession
to convention, not even so much as the two introductory
chords which, in the Eroica, are all that he uses to replace
the frequent conventional slow introduction of the earlier
symphonists. Beethoven simply hurls his subject-matter
four notes at his audience, and proceeds to build prac-
tically the whole movement on the well-known rhythmic
of almost shattering intensity. The
figure, rising to heights
tension relaxed in the slow movement, but returns in
is
a different guise in the scherzo. This leads without break

into ihs finale another new departure and the finale itself
is
interrupted by a reference back to the theme of the
scherzo. This is the first instance of such thematic cross-
referencing, and is especially notable in two ways. Firstly,
it led to further such
developments by later composers, and
secondly it shows, mechanically, what is evident purely
musically in so many of Beethoven's sonatas, etc., that he
viewed the work as a unified whole. Not that he was the
first in this. Such works as Mozart's G minor or Jupiter
symphonies, or the G minor Qtiintet, are one and indi-
visible. But it cannot be denied that in
many of the earlier
sonatas and symphonies and quartets, one slow movement
or finale would suit as well as another.
BEETHOVEN 175
The 5th symphony shows, too, advances in the use of

the orchestra. From his first symphony (1800) Beethoven
had used clarinets regularly, and in the Eroica he employed
three horns instead of the usual two, obviously to allow
for the notable horn passage which opens the trio of the
scherzo. In the 5th there are only two horns, but the last
movement brings in piccolo, double bassoon and three
trombones, the first time these had been used in such a
work. Mozart uses the double bassoon in his Masonic Funeral
Music, but trombones were usually reserved for use in opera,
especially in connection with funeral music and the super-
natural. The entry of the statue in the last act of Don
Giovanni is an example of the latter. Not until the gth
Symphony does Beethoven employ four horns, and trombones
appear again only in the 'storm' movement of the Pastoral
Symphony and in the second and last movements of the gth.
The use of voices (soloists and chorus) in the last move-
ment of the gth was another forward-looking innovation,
with progeny including such works as Mendelssohn's Hymn
of Praise, Vaughan Williams's Sea Symphony and Hoist's
Choral Symphony.
Beethoven's one opera, Fidelio, ranks among the greatest
of all, while his Mass in D
stands on a peak with Bach's
B minor. Comparison of these two works would be fruit-
less; their composers' outlook and approach were entirely
different, is supreme in its own way.
and each work
In the works of the third period, which include the last
quartets and the piano sonatas from op. 101 onwards,
Beethoven begins to move away from strict adherence to
the traditional forms. As with all great composers, his
organisation of the internal details had always been con-
ditioned by emotional intention, i.e. by the message which
he wished to convey, even though the basic outlines were
those customarily followed at the time. In these latest
works the conventional plans are modified or discarded if
the composer feels them inadequate for the expression of
his thought. In this, Beethoven points the way to the
'Romantics
9
,
to whom
form was subservient to emotional
expression. some of his successors, he was
But, unlike
always the great architect; his designs, whether for single
movements or for whole works, and however unorthodox
by conventional or textbook standards, are always perfect
in themselves. The relationship between form and con-
tent* is indivisible. The thematic material, too, tends to
be of a new character. As opposed to the subject which
was so often melodic, or based on figuration, Beethoven
used matter which can be best described as germinal a
cell from which a movement grows. His frequent adoption
of fugue in later works shows this, since fugue,f of all styles
of composition, is that in which the principle of continuous
growth from a germinal cell, the subject, is basic. The
use of variations, too, shows the same principle in opera-
e j
tion, the cell being the theme, and the variations exploring
its implications.
In his last works Beethoven was preoccupied with thinking
in musical terms. In the same way as a Bertrand Russell
or a de Madariaga expresses his philosophical deductions
in an essay, so Beethoven gives us the fruits of his medita-
tions in sound. It is music not for 'entertainment9 , in
however high a sense we interpret the word, but to give
expression to thought. For this purpose, fugue and varia-
tions, neither of them 'forms' in the conventional sense,
offered possibilities beyond those of sonata and other tradi-
tional forms. This is not to suggest that Beethoven was
the first to 'think in sound 9 . Bach had done so in the Art
of Fugue (notwithstanding its pedagogical aim) and in the
great Ricercare of the Musical Offering, to name no other
examples. But Beethoven, withdrawn into himself by the
total deafness of his later years, did so on a far greater
scale than any earlier composer. No better summing up
* 9
'Content^ implies 'meaning ,

that which the composer wishes to
express, emotionally and in every other way, regardless of the form in
which he casts his music.
t It is undesirable to think of fugue as a 'form'. As Sir Donald Tovey
so often pointed out, it is a 'texture*.
BEETHOVEN 177
of the works of the last period can be found than that

of Edward Dannreuther: He passes beyond the horizon of
e
a mere singer and poet, and touches upon the domain of

the seer and the prophet; where, in unison with all genuine
mystics and ethical teachers, he delivers a message of re-
ligious love and resignation, identification with the suffer-
ings of all living creatures, deprecation of sel negation of
personality, release from the world.'
RECORDS
Composer Title Cat. JVb.
Beethoven Piano Sonatas Op. 13 and
Op. 27/2 33 OCX. 1073
Piano Sonata Op. 57 (Appas-
sionato) OALP. 1094
Violin Sonata Op. 47 (Kreut&r) OALP. 1319
Quartets Op. 18/1 and 2 33 OCX. 1168
Quartet Op. 52/2 33 OCX. 1236
Symphony No. i, C Major KLC 564
Symphony No. 5, C Minor 33 OCX. 1077
Overture, Leonora, No. 3 LWA. 5016
Overture, Coriolan 7 TCA. 40
Song-Cycle: An die feme Geliebte ALP. 1066
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE ROMANTICS AND THEIR MUSIC

the latter part of the i8th century practically
all music was written for a specific purpose or
UNTIL occasion. It might be for the Church, for a court
or civic function, for the opera house, for domestic or in-
structional use, or what not; but fundamentally it was
Gebrauschmusik utility music. Composing was looked upon
largely as a 'job of work'; 'art for art's sake' was unheard-
of. Even such a masterpiece as the St. Matthew Passion
was written simply because Bach needed a new setting for
use at St. Thomas's Church. Had someone commented
to him on its greatness (a most unlikely happening at the
time), he would probably have replied, as he did in an-

other connection, that anyone could do as well if he worked
hard enough.
It has already been noted that the decline of the
patron-
age system brought about changes in the conditions under
which composers worked. Official posts in the Church and
the opera house still remained, but the old system of regu-
larly composing to order no longer held good. Simul-
taneously there came about a change in the composers'
attitude to their art. The utilitarian approach died out,
and the musician, at least in his own estimation, became
an 'artist', whose aim was at all costs to express himself,
without restrictions or inhibitions. The new conditions and
outlook were part and parcel of the general tendency to-
wards greater freedom, of which the French Revolution and
similar smaller movements were but the more violent mani-
festations. Comparable tendencies are observable among
the poets. The rather rigid formalism of the *Age of Reason'
THE ROMANTICS AND THEIR MUSIC 179
gave way a more humanistic and natural approach. To

to
the cool, classical poise of an Alexander Pope succeeds the
vision of a William Blake, the lyricism of a Shelley. In
Germany the new movement, Romanticism,* is represented
by such poets as Goethe, Schiller and the brothers August
and Friedrich Schlegel. The almost rigid versification of
the 1 8th century, what has been called 'the stiff
couplets
and clenched quatrains'f was replaced by greater flexi-
bility and variety. The poet sang, and the musician, con-
versely, began to consider himself as a poet in musical
sound, a tone-poet.
It is at this time that we find, too, the rise of the 'literary'
musician, as well as of the musical literary man. In former
times almost all books on music, from Musica Enchiriadis
onwards, had been of an instructional nature. There were,
of course, numerous writings on opera, but these were
mostly either propaganda or simply controversial. Aes-
thetics had hardly been touched, rather naturally as long
as composing was regarded largely as a 'job to be done'.
The new generation of composer-critics addressed them-
selves not merely to musicians or students, but to the
musically educated public, as in the Dramatic and Musical
Notices of Carl Maria von Weber (1786 to 1826). Weber
was the first of the line, and was followed by Hector Berlioz
(1803 to 1869), more appreciated in his lifetime as a musical
journalist than as a composer. In 1834 Robert Schumann
(1810 to 1856) founded the New Journal for Music with the
avowed object of encouraging the poetic principle in music.
Franz Liszt (1811 to 1886) wrote voluminously on a wide
range of subjects, while possibly the most verbose and con-
troversial of all was Richard Wagner (1813 to 1883), whose
writings were chiefly designed as propaganda for his own

works.
Of the musical litterateurs whose writings provided both
*
Despite what was said in Chapter i, this label is retained for
convenience,
f Louis Untermeyer in The Albatross Book of Living Verse.
i8o A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
background and encouragement to the romantic movement,
the most important were Johann Paul Richter (1763 to
1825), usually known as Jean Paul, and E. T. A. Hoffmann
(1776 to 1822). They were the high priests of Romanti-
cism, and bolt exerted a great influence on Schumann,
who was in some ways the most romantic-minded of all
romantic musicians.
We now see a change in the social and cultural back-
ground of the musician. Formerly the great composer had
most frequently come of a family of musicians. There were,
of course, notable exceptions Handel, son of a surgeon,
Haydn, son of a wheelwright, and so on. But we may
also think of the Gabrielis, the Scarlattis, the Bach family,
Mozart and Beethoven. In any case, the musician was
generally of humble origin. With the coming of the ro-
mantics we find composers from a wider range of social strata.
Berlioz and Spohr were sons of physicians; Schumann's
father was a bookseller of considerable culture; Mendels-
sohn came of a wealthy and cultured family of Jewish
bankers. The status, too, of the musician rose. Under
the patronage system he normally occupied a subordinate
position; now he was admitted to terms of something like
equality with wealthy and titled people, while Mendelssohn
was on relatively easy terms with the British Royal Family.
The basic aims of the Romantics were, very broadly
speaking, freedom and self-expression. The musical results
of these aims, again in very general terms, were (a) a greater
appreciation of sound as such; (b) a relaxation and broad-
ening of the attitude to the importance and function of
form; (c) free and unrestricted expression of personal emo-
tion; (d)a tendency to ally music to some literary or other
non-musical background. We may note also the cultiva-
tion of small-scale works and concentration on the solo
song.
With regard to (<z), the vital factor is the development of
the orchestra. From Weber and Schubert onwards, new
possibilities of colour and sonority are continually explored;
composers are not concerned merely with the music as

such, in its melodic and harmonic aspects, but with its
actual sound-effect, i.e. with the sensuous side. Weber's
magic horn which opens the overture to Oberon (the horn
was considered a most romantic instrument), or Schubert's
visionary use of the trombones in his great C major sym-
phony, stand at the beginning. Near the end of the period
liesthe orchestral virtuosity of Wagner, taken still further
by Richard Strauss and Edward Elgar. In between stands
Berlioz, who could play only the flute and the guitar,
but whose orchestral imagination was unrivalled. His
9
Traite d Instrumentation (1844) is still a standard work. The
orchestra tended to increase in size. To Beethoven's stand-
ard requirements were added two more horns and three
trombones. Berlioz, in some of his works, demands huge
forces, and Wagner's colossal music-dramas needed an or-
chestra of comparable size triple wood wind, as many as
eight horns, and so on. But the introduction of new or
extra instruments was not merely to achieve a greater
volume of sound; both Berlioz and Wagner are sparing in
their use of the full orchestra. Composers wanted a wider
range of colour. Anyone who has heard the Ring will

realise that, for example, ordy the bass clarinet could pro-
duce the exact psychological effect that Wagner intended
in certain cases.
The romantics' attitude to form is expressed in Berlioz's
9
statement that music must not be based on 'rule but on
'direct reaction to feeling*. Liszt says much the same: 'The
artist may pursue the beautiful outside the rules of the
9
school. The interaction of form and content has always
presented composers with a problem. The early sym-
phonists of the galant style often solved this problem by
almost eliminating any worth-while meaning. Much of
their work is little more than well-ordered patterning with
notes. Haydn and Mozart had the genius to combine
structural stability with vital content, within the accepted
limits of classical form. The musical god of the romantic
school was Beethoven; to them he was the great emanci-
form'. Beethoven was quite
pator who 'broke the bonds of 9
as much of a 'self-expressionist as any professed romantic;
but they seem at times to have overlooked the fact that
however far he may have departed from the classical forms
of Haydn and Mozart, however much he may have adapted
form in order to express his meaning, he was still the great
architect. His forms can still stand as examples of structural
perfection.
The formal problems of the romantics were intensified
by a 'programme*,
their fondness for illustrative music, since
whether an actual story or merely some more or less vaguely
would not necessarily fit into the con-
poetical background,
fines of a
classical form. Berlioz's programme symphonies,
the Fantastic and Harold in Italy, still retain, broadly, the
traditional outlines. The former has five movements in-
stead of the usual four and uses a kind of motto theme, the
idee fixe,which acts as a psychological connecting thread.
But there is no attempt at a complete break with tradition;
they are symphonies with a programme, but still sym-
phonies. (At least one writer has argued that Berlioz is
actually more of a classic than a romantic.) Liszt, how-
ever, realised that the idea of programme music could only
be carried out logically by breaking with formal tradition
and allowing the form to be dictated by the programme in
each individual case. Hence his adoption of the title sym-
phonic poem, and hence, also, the varied forms of his works
in this genre. Liszt was also largely responsible for develop-
ing the system of thematic metamorphosis, by which means
ideas or characters can be shown in different lights or situa-
tions. The principle is that a basic theme can be varied
in character, and consequently in meaning and significance,
by some kind of modification, often, though not necessarily,
rhythmic. Examples from Les Preludes (of which, by the
way, the programme was written after the music, not before
it) will make this clear. In the opening 'Moods of Spring
and Love* appears this theme:
Ex. 21
Andante
changed a little later to:
Ex. 22
Andante maestoso
In the next section, 'Storms of Life', it is modified to:
Ex. 23
Allegro ma non troppo
and later to:
Ex. 24
Allegro tempestoso
Finally, in 'Strife and Victory , it becomes:
Ex. 25
Allegro marziale animate
Although the symphonic poem originated from the sym-

phony, it did not replace it; the two forms have tended
to
run parallel, each developing on its own lines. The first
important symphonist of the romantic era was Franz
Schubert (1797 to 1828). His early symphonies are in the
Mozart tradition, relatively brief and essentially tuneful.
Schubert was, and remains, unexcelled as a melodist, and
next to Mozart he was possibly the most naturally gifted
of all composers. In hi last two symphonies, the great
C major and the Unfinished, he showed himself capable of
thinking in a really extended and dramatic manner, yet
without losing anything of his essential tunefulness. He
effected a fusion of the dramatic and the lyrical. The
G major may seem to some to be diffuse and repetitive
Schumann remarked on the 'heavenly length' of its second
movement but not a bar can be cut without marring the
symmetry and balance. Schubert died before the romantic
attitude to form was fully defined, but in his Wanderer Fan-
taste for piano, he looked forward to later developments in
his use of the 'cyclic' principle. This involves the deriva-

tion, by metamorphosis, of some, if not all, of the thematic
material of later movements from that stated initially, either
in an introduction or in the exposition of the first move-
ment. In the Wanderer the opening subject is the basis of
the principal material of each of the three succeeding move-
ments. The cyclic idea is a method mechanical, though
its results may be musical
enough of ensuring, or endeav-
ouring to ensure, the homogeneity of a work as a whole;*
a homogeneity which the great classics achieved superbly
without any such adventitious aid.
Chronologically the next important symphonist is Berlioz,
whose methods have already been briefly considered. Then
comes Mendelssohn (1809 to 1847)4 He has been described
as a romantic-classicist romantic in his attitude to musical
sound and in his lyricism, classic in his attitude to form.
* The
principle is seen as far back as the i6th century in the 'cyclic*
masses, i.e. those in which material such as a plainsong tune is used
thematically for the various movements. It may even be traced as far
back as Machaut see the remark on p. 58 regarding his use of a
basic motive.
t His full name was Jakob Ludwig Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy.

To him, Beethoven was not the breaker of the bonds of

form; he was rather the perfector of it. Mendelssohn rarely
touches great depths; there is, in fact, a not infrequent
tendency to shallowness in his work. He lacks the fire of
a Berlioz, the earnestness of a Schumann, the histrionic
ability(and weakness) of a Liszt. But of all the romantics
he was perhaps the finest craftsman and in this may be
compared with Mozart. Like his great predecessor, he
understood 'economy of means', and while he never in-
dulged in orchestral virtuosity, there was little he did not
know about the orchestra and its possibilities, in so far as
they were applicable to his own rather limited style. His
Italiansymphony, for example, is full of the deftest touches,
which are a delight both to the amateur and to the trained
musician. The two flutes wandering about at the top of
the score in the slow movement, for instance, and the 'horns
9
of elfland faintly blowing in the trio of the minuet* even
though two of them are bassoons:
Ex. 26
Schumann's four symphonies, while containing much de-

lightful music, are marred by his lack of ability as an
orchestrator. Structurally the most interesting is No. 4
(originally No. 2), which makes some use of the cyclic
principle.
This same principle was used by Liszt in his two sym-
phonies, which are really extended symphonic poems with
a non-musical background. Their titles are Symphony on
Dante's Divine Comedy and A Faust Symphony. Both make
great use of thematic metamorphosis, and both include
choral parts. Perhaps the most outstanding example of
* A volume could be written on the romantics* fondness for the horn.
From Weber to Strauss, none could resist its allure.
formal experiment on cyclic lines was Liszt's piano sonata
in B minor. It is in one huge movement, retaining the
essential outlines of sonata form. The working out is inter-
rupted by an intermezzo which serves as a slow movement,

after which developmentis resumed in fugal style. Prac-
thematic material is derived from three terse
tically all the
subjects announced in the introduction.
The igth century saw the rise of the concert overture.
Apart from their function as introductions to operas or ora-
torios, numerous overtures had been written to plays, e.g.
Beethoven's Coriolanus, or for special occasions, e.g. his Con-
secration of the House, written for the opening of the Joseph-
stadt Theatre in Vienna. With Mendelssohn's Hebrides
overture (1830, revised 1832) the appears with a new
title
signification a single movement, at first usually based on

sonata form, not introducing anything and not even neces-
sarily used to 'open' a concert. Although many such works
have been written as abstract musicBeethoven, for in-
stance, wrote one about 1807, describing it as a 'Charac-
teristic Overture* most have a more or less programmatic
background; they are a kind of miniature symphonic
poem. The Hebrides was inspired by a visit to those islands.
Wagner's Faust Overture, originally intended as the first
movement of a symphony, is another great example.
Chamber music did not attract the romantics as it did
their predecessors. Schubert's quartets, etc., develop from
those of Mozart and Beethoven; in many ways he had the
classic outlook. But for most of the romantics the string
quartet and allied forms were too purely abstract; they
were not really suitable media for the expression of 'direct
reaction to feeling'. Mendelssohn, classically minded, wrote
some fine works and Schumann also produced a few, of
which the best-known and possibly the finest is the Piano
Qpintet in E flat. In any case, chamber music was pri-
marily domestic music, or at least was originally conceived
as such, and domestic music-making now
began to change
its character. From being mainly a concerted affair, as
it had been since the days of the sonata a tre, it became more
a matter for a solo performer; the domestic supremacy of

the piano now begins, with such composers as Mendelssohn,
with his Songs without Words, and Schumann, with his
numerous small-scale pieces (Fantasiestucke, Scenes of Child-
hood, Waldscenen, etc,), to supply the literature. Such works
as Beethoven's Bagatelles, terse mood-pictures, had pointed
the way, but the intensive cultivation of the short, possibly
miniature composition is an outcome of romanticism. In
their little tone pictures, the composers could express them-
selves in a concentrated and intimate manner, in contrast
to the expansiveness of their more extended works.
It is a rather odd contradiction that the romantic era,
while stressing for the first time the small-scale tone pic-
ture, was also the era of the greatest virtuosity. We have
noted how the Italian violinists tended gradually to exalt
the soloist in their concertos, and mention has been made
of the rise of the display concerto in the latter part of the
1 8th century. The purely technical difficulty of concert
works, whether concertos or sonatas, increased continually,
as is evident in those of Beethoven, who, in his early years,
was famed as a pianist. But with him the difficulties are
a matter of necessity; his thoughts could not be expressed
otherwise. There is no suggestion of difficulty for diffi-
culty's sake; it is simply a means to a purely musical end.
With such composers as Weber, Thalberg, Herz and
Hunten, however, we find a strong tendency to brilliance
for its own sake Showing off'. But the virtuosity of these
paled before that of the violinist Nicol6 Paganini (1782 to

1840), whose technique was such that many believed him
to be in league with the Devil, and who took the art of
violin-playing to a stage never yet exceeded. What Paganini
could do as a violinist, Liszt decided to emulate at the
piano, and achieved his aim. In his early life he spent
many years as a touring virtuoso, astounding all Europe
by his amazing brilliance. In his compositions for piano
he discovered and exploited hitherto unheard-of effects and
!88 A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
and his influence still persists. Liszt, however, was
sonorities,
not merely a purveyor of pianistic fireworks, as were Herz,
Hunten and Thalberg. Admittedly he was not averse to play-
ing to the gallery; but his interpretations of Beethoven, for c
example, were revelatory, while Chopin once wrote I should :
my own
9
like to steal from him the way to play Etudes.
What Liszt achieved in brilliance, Chopin matched in
poetry. He was born, near Warsaw, in 1810, and died in
Paris in 1849. Chopin was a pianist pure and simple, and
his compositions in other media are negligible. Schumann's
famous remark, 'Hats off, gentlemen, a genius', is evidence
enough of the impression made by his work as early as
the variations on La d darem la mano, op. 2. (Admittedly
Schumann, in his eagerness to encourage young composers,
was rather apt to confuse geese and swans, but in this
instance he did not err.) Chopin's Preludes and many of
his Mazurkas show him to be unexcelled as a miniaturist,
while such works as the Polonaises and the Ballades, especi-
ally perhaps the latter, prove his mastery of the larger scale.
There great originality and a strong poetic impulse in
is
everything he wrote, and while his handling of form is at

times distinctly unorthodox, it is fundamentally logical.
The Nocturnes* show that as a melodist he stands in the
same class as Schubert, while in the Etudes he proved that
the study of advanced technique need not involve the
dullness of a Czerny.
We come now to some consideration of song writing, an
art which comes to the fore for the first time since the days
of the Elizabethan lutenists. Not that it had ever been
entirely neglected. Both Mozart and Beethoven wrote a
certain number of songs, while Johann Rudolf Zumsteeg
(1760 to 1802) was a pioneer of the dramatic and narrative
ballad. The aim of this form is the description of an event,
* The nocturac which
3 Chopin raised to the highest pitch of per-
fection, was given its character, of a melody with arpeggio accompani-
ment, by the Irishman John Field (1782-1837). It is not the same as the
18th-century Nottwrno meaning literally 'night-music', as used by Mozart
in K. 286.
or chain of events. Zumsteeg was followed by the much

greater Carl Loewe (1796 to 1869), whose ballads often
achieve considerable vividness and dramatic power. We
may also note Mendelssohn's teacher, Carl Zdter (1765
to 1832) and Johann Reichardt (1752 to 1814), both of
whom helped to found and develop the German lied or
9
'art song . Songs of their time are normally strophic, that
is, the same music is used, basically, for each of several
verses, and the voice part is fundamentally a tune. The

instrumental part is a subordinate accompaniment. In
Zumsteeg's ballads, however, the instrumental part is often
of greater importance, not so much a mere accompaniment
as a commentary on the words, and it is in this that we see
the beginnings of the fully developed lied, a duet for voice
and piano, in which the instrumental part is as important
as that for the voice.
The first, and in the opinion of many the greatest, ex-
ponent of the true lied was Schubert. His enormous out-
put of songs, over 600, covers every style, from the simplicity
of the well-known Heidenroslein to the intense drama of
Erlkonig. In the former the accompaniment is so slender
that it could almost be dispensed with; in the latter, the
piano part is at least half the making of the song. In

his treatment of the vocal part, Schubert covers an enor-
mous range. Heidenroslein might almost be a folk-song;
An die Musik gives us sophisticated melody of extraordinary
beauty; while in Erlkonig we have dramatic recitative of
awesome intensity. ErlkSnig is almost a complete exposi-
tion of Romanticism in itself. The storm, the super-
natural element, the terrified child, the frenzied galloping
ofthe horse, and the final tragic climax *In his arms the child
lay dead' with the vivid characterisation, are all typical.
Schubert's choice of poems was wide and varied, some-
times perhaps too much so, since his amazing facility he
once wrote eight songs in a single day led him at times to
set verses of poor quality. But whatever the value of the
words, the settings themselves always show the maximum
igo A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
of insight. Schubert was not only born to be a musician;
he was born to be a song writer, and had he written nothing
eke, his fame would be assured. Apart from separate songs,
Schubert wrote the song-cycles Die SckSne Mullmn (The
9
Beautiful Maid of the Mill ) and Lie Winteneise ('Winter
Journey'), the words of both being by the poet Wilhelm
Muller. The idea of a song-cycle is a group of songs with
a continuous underlying theme or story, so that the whole
series constitutes an entity. The idea was not new. The
first known example dates from the early years of the I7th
century. Under the German title of Liederkreis (song-rircfe),

Beethoven's An die feme Geliebte ('To the Distant Beloved')
of 1816 antedates Schubert's Maid of the Mill by seven years.
Since Schubert's time, numbers of such cycles have been
written, notably Schumann's Frauenliebe undLeben ('Woman's
Love and Life') and Dichterliebe ('A Poet's Love').
In these, as in all his songs, Schumann proves himself
the true inheritor of the tradition established by Schubert.
Like his predecessor, his treatment of the vocal part is
infinitely varied, as is his inventiveness on the instrumental
side. Schumann wrote no songs until 1840, the year of
his marriage to Clara WiecL This victory after a long
struggle against the opposition of his prospective father-in-
law unlocked the floodgates of song, and in the one year
he wrote over one hundred. Unlike Schubert, Schumann
rarely if ever set words which lacked some literary dis-
tinction.
Of Schumann's contemporaries, Mendelssohn looks back
rather to the strophic style of Zelter and Reichardt, in
which the voice part predominates. Liszt is represented
by a collection of fifty-five songs (1860), many of which,
although hardly comparable in value to those of Schubert

and Schumann, are in the true lied tradition. After Liszt
the line passes through Brahms and Hugo Wolf. Brahms
will be considered later. Wolf
(1860 to 1903) developed
the 'duet' principle of the lied to the limit, and no
song-
writer has ever created a juster balance between words and
THE ROMANTICS AND THEIR MUSIC igi
nusic. He may best be summed up by a quotation from

jrove: 'A song tohim was poetry absorbed and recreated
n terms of something which was neither melody by itself
9
lor mere declamation, but a fusion of the two. Hair-
iplitting arguments as to whether or not he was the greatest
rf all song-writers are immaterial; we may say that, like
Schubert, what he did not know about the writing of songs
was not worth the knowing. But, unlike Schubert, he
knew little else; songs were his life.
If Mendelssohn was a romantic classicist, Johannes Brahms
(1833 to 1897) may k e described as a classic romanticist.
His early works, e.g. the three piano sonatas, the Scherzo in
E flat minor, etc., are very clearly the production of a whole-
hearted romantic outlook. Schumann took him to his heart,
9
and in his article 'New Paths , written in 1853, referred to
him as 'one man who would be singled out to make arti-
culate in an ideal way the highest expression of our time,
one man who would bring us mastery. Seated at the
. . .
piano, he at once discovered to us wondrous regions ... an

altogether inspired style of playing which made of the
9
piano an orchestra of lamenting and exultant voices. This
of an unknown youngster of twenty. But Brahms, as he
developed, controlled his essential romanticism by a classic
regard for form. Not for him were the structural experi-
ments of a Liszt, the discarding of 'rule' advocated by
Berlioz. Like Beethoven, he found it possible to express
himself to the full, with as much intensity as any belligerent
romantic, without disregarding the vital necessity of struc-
tural stability and without the continual need for some
literary or programmatic impulse. He was, in fact, the true

successor of Beethoven, even though he had not quite the
same complete mastery of form. Like Beethoven, too, he
was a master of variation-writing, his sets on a theme of
Handel, on the St. Anthony Chorale and on the theme of
Paganini ranking with those of the older master and of
Bach.
Although Brahms was far from making consistent use of
methods, there are occasional instances in his work.
cyclic
In thefirst piano sonata, op. i, the first subject of the last
movement is clearly derived from that of the first.
There are occasional instances of thematic cross-referencing,

as in the third symphony where the first subject of the open-
ing movement returns, metamorphosed in significance, to

round off the last. A more subtle case occurs in the second
and fourth movements of the same work. The second
subject of the former:
Ex. 28
MM mh |
i
i
i
|i
gives rise in the latter to:
Ex. 29
Sir Edward Elgar made the penetrating remark that the

outcome* of the former.
latter is the 'tragic
The subtlety that lies in the art of concealing art is often
evident in Brahms. We may instance the G
major violin
sonata, in which the three movements are related by the
persistence of a rhythmic motive:
III
This kind of thing is far from being obvious, and it is not

until the work has been carefully studied that its signifi-
cance is realised. Similarly, in the second symphony, where
the basic motive is melodic:
Ex, 31
The essential fall and rise of a step occurs in the thematic

material of all the movements, being inverted in the third.
9
This kind of 'germinal procedure was not invented by
Brahms, though it clearly opened up a path which has
been followed by many later composers. It is seen in
Beethoven's sth Symphony, where the basic idea of a three-
note anacrusis to an accent is quite clear in the first, third
and last movements:
I94 A SHORT HISTORY OF MUSIC
To what extent this was intentional
is arguable. Such
interrelationships may quite well arise without the com-
of them, only to be pointed out after
poser being aware
the event by the keen-eyed analyst. Similarly, in the piano
sonata, op. no, where the subject of the fugue:
if r if r if f f\r
may (or may not) be derived from the first subject of the
first movement:*
Ex.34
1
Wf" Jjrair f
ir r
Brahms approached the symphony with diffidence, his

first,in G minor, being produced when he was forty-three
years old. He was no orchestral virtuoso, though he had
as keen an appreciation of tone-colour as most of his con-
temporaries. But he rarely insists on sound as such; rather
it is the music itself which he forces on our attention. It
9
has sometimes been suggested that Brahms 'could not score ,
but this is a misstatement. ^His use of the orchestra, how-
ever far removed from that of a Berlioz or a Wagner, is an
integral part of his style. A Brahms symphony rescored
would cease to be Brahms.
Brahms' classic^tendencies are seen in his output of
chamber music, which contains some of his finest work.
His handling of the instruments is irreproachable, as is his
* It
may be well to point out that this game of tracing thematic
relationships can be carried to idiotic extremes. If taken far enough it
can lead to such fatuity as suggesting that the fugue subject in Brahms'
E minor 'cello sonata is derived from the opening of the St. Matthew
Passion! The reader may care to work this out for himself.
feeling for the appropriate style. Unlike some later com-

tries to make a quartet sound like a
posers, he never string
orchestra, nor does he 'stunt' with the instruments. As a
first-rate pianist himself, it is natural that many of his works
for the instrument are of considerable technical difficulty,
but here again the classic outlook appears. Even in the
two concertos Brahms does not indulge in virtuosity for
its own sake; the most difficult or brilliant passages are an
integral part of the work, not mere flashy display. The
same applies to the far from easy violin concerto. In his
later years Brahms produced a number of short but intensely
concentrated Intermezzi and Capricci. They are in varied
styles, the Intermezzi being in steady tempo and the Capricci
less so. Each is a complete little tone-poem, pin-pointing
a mood with singular clarity and distinction, and each is
in a perfectly balanced form.
In his songs Brahms relies more on melody than on de-
clamation; while not by any means reducing the piano
part to a mere subordinate accompaniment, he tends on
the whole to tip the balance in favour of the voice. The
strophic plan of treatment is most usual, and in many of
the songs there are influences from the German Volkslied
or folksong. No song-writer surpassed him in emotional
intensity or intimacy of expression. His last published com-
positions were the Four Serious Songs, to biblical words, which
form a fitting apotheosis to the work of one who, while not
perhaps greatly interested in the niceties of ecclesiastical
dogma, was one of the most sincere and earnest-minded of
allthe great musicians.
remains to deal briefly with choral works of the rom-
It
antic period. The church music is rarely of any great value.
The Masses of Schubert, despite fine moments, lack the
true liturgical appropriateness of, say, the Bach cantatas,
while many by other composers, e.g. Liszt and Schumann,
were conceived chiefly as 'concert Masses*. In his oratorios
St. Paul and Elijah Mendelssohn developed the Handel
tradition, with some admixture of Bach,
in his own idiom;
Liszt's Christus and St. Elizabeth are effective and highly
characteristic of their composer.
Possibly the greatest sacred choral work of the period is
Brahms's German Requiem, for which the impulse came pri-
marily from the death of his mother in 1865. It is not a
requiem Mass, but rather a meditation on death a fore-
runner of the Four Serious Songs. In it, as in his other choral
works the Triumph Song, the Song of Destiny and the Alto
Rhapsody Brahms proved that his mastery of choral writing
was no less than of any other branch of music.
RECORDS
Schubert Symphony No. 2, B flat ALP. 1061
Symphony No. 8 (Unfinished) 33 OCX. 1039
Symphony No. 9, C major LXT. 2719
Song Recital 33 CX. 1040
Quintet in C major CLP. 1006
Mendelssohn Overtures LXTA. 2961

Symphony A major (Italian) OALP. 1325
Berlioz Fantastic Symphony 33 CX. 1206

Schumann Symphony No. 4, D Minor LXTA. 2887
Piano Concerto, A Minor 33OC. 1001
Camaval (piano) LX. 3074
Song Cycle, Frauenliebe und Leben LXTA. 2556
2j
Chopin Concerto, F Minor 33CX. 1066

Two Etudes LX. 1203
Sonata, B Minor 33 OCX. 133
Chopin Recital
Polonaise in A Flat
Liszt Les Preludes (orchestra) 33OSX. 1013
Hungarian Rhapsodies 33OSX. 1014
Piano Concertos LXT. 5025
Brahms Violin Concerto, Major D LXT. 2566
Piano Concerto, B Flat LXT. 2723
Brahms Symphony No. i, C Minor OALP. 1152
(contd.) Symphony No. 3, F Major LXTA. 2843
Piano recital LXTA. 2935
Four Songs LXTA. 2850
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ROMANTIC OPERA
Chapter 12 a brief sketch was given of the way in
which the character of opera changed in France and
IN Italy in the period around 1800. In Germany similar
changes came about, leading to the style which is usually
known as Romantic Opera. As in France, new tendencies
appear in the latter part of the i8th century, the first use
9
of the term 'romantic being in the subtitle of Gotthilf von
Baumgarten's setting of a libretto based on that of Gretry's
Zfmire et Azor. It is 'described as a 'Romantic-Comic
Opera'. As well as the lack of conventions which was

typical of the singspiel, as it was of opera buffa and opera
comique, we find also the fondness for the fantastic and the
Oriental. 'Turkish' opera was a distinct fashion from about
1770 onwards, in Italy, France and Germany,* while
Wranitzky's Oberon, King of the Fairies may be considered the
prototype of the 'fairy-tale opera', of which the best known
example is perhaps Humperdinck's Hansel and Gretel of 1893.
Weber is usually regarded as the real founder of German
romantic opera. His Der Freischiitt, completed in 1820,
raised the singspiel to a new level (it has spoken dialogue),
while the plot contains all the ingredients which were so
dear to the romantics magic, the supernatural (one of the
characters has sold his soul to the Devil) , and so on. Especi-
ally notable are the vividness of the orchestration and the
general effectiveness of both solo and choral writing. Eury-
antke, which followed in 1823, k based on a medieval plot,
and discards the spoken dialogue; it is a full-dress 'grand'
opera. Oberon (1826) returns to spoken dialogue, and is
the direct successor of Wranitzky's work of the same name.
* Mozart's an example.
Seraglio is
ROMANTIC OPERA 199
Weber's treatment of the overture shows a notable ad-

vance. We have seen how Gluck insisted that the overture
should prepare the audience for the opera itself, and how
Mozart, in Don Giovanni, opens with a reference to the
dramatic climax of the whole work. Weber builds his
overtures almost entirely from material which is to be used
later, thereby stressing still further their integral function.
The romantic style was followed by Heinrich Marschner
(1795 to 1861), whose The Vampire (1823) an <l Templar and
Jewess (1829, based broadly on Scott's Ivanhoe) show it at
its crudest and most violently melodramatic. His best work
is Hans Heiling (1833). This is notable for the plan of the

prologue, in which spoken dialogue and set 'numbers' are
dispensed with. It is 'through-composed', a continuous move-
ment for solo and chorus, foreshadowing the continuity on
which Wagner insisted in his later works. This style was
taken farther by Louis Spohr in his The Crusaders (1845)
which, to quote the composer's own words, is 'through-
composed . . somewhat as a musical drama'. The use
.
of the term 'musical drama' is significant. Wagner, at that

time thirty-two years old, entitled his later works 'music
drama' rather than 'opera'.
Schumann's one opera, Genoveva, was a complete failure
on its production in 1850. Although the value of much of
the music was recognised by at least one of the critics, it
was hardly theatrical enough for the audiences of the time.
It was criticised, too, for its lack of separate 'numbers'.
Otto Jahn, the biographer of Mozart, remarked on the
great amount of effort it demanded of the listeners, and
complained that the possibility of the singers 'being accorded
immediate applause is eliminated'. Audiences were as yet
far from being trained to sit silent through the hour and
a half (or more) which Wagner sometimes demands for
a single act, and the singers still preferred the separate re-
citative and aria, at the end of which they could receive
theirmeed of clapping and bravos.
With* Richard Wagner (1813 to 1883) we come to the
zoo A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
great reformer of opera, who, in his approach, was the
lineal descendant of Gluck. For the greater part of his
lite he had to struggle against adversity, often, it must be
admitted, due to his own impetuosity and lack of considera-

tion for others. In 1849 he had to flee from Germany,
chased by a warrant for his arrest as a 'politically dangerous
individual', and after a short stay in Paris, settled in Zurich.
He was banned from returning to Germany until 1861,
when he received permission to re-enter any state except
Saxony, where his political activities had originally led to
his exile. The ban on Saxony was lifted in 1862. In
1864
he at last achieved an assured position, thanks to the
generosity of Ludwig II of Bavaria. At Bayreuth was
erected the Festival Theatre, and here he was able to
superintend the production of his works on the scale and
in the manner which he had always intended but had
rarely, if ever, achieved.
Both as a musician and a reformer, Wagner developed
slowly. His few early non-operatic works the piano sonata,
op. i, for example give no hint of the genius of the Ring
or the Mastersingers, nor do his first two operas, Die Feen
and Das Liebesverbot. The former had to wait until five
years after his death for its first performance, while the
latter, produced in 1834, was an utter failure. Rienzi, his
next work, isa grand opera in the manner of Meyerbeer,
and as blatant as any work of that composer. In the
Flying
Dutchman (1841), however, we find strong pointers to what
was to come. The story is in the best romantic tradition,
and is notable also as being a northern legend. A cardinal
doctrine of the later Wagner was that plots for operas should
be based on folk-lore. Musically the Dutchman carries on
the tendency to continuity which is seen in such works as
Hans Heiling. The orchestra begins to occupy a more im-
portant position, tending to provide a commentary on the
action. The use of the leit-motif principle also begins to
develop the principle which is so vital in the thematic
construction and the texture of the later works.
ROMANTIC OPERA aoi
The or 'leading theme' is a passage, generally

leit-motif
short, associated with some particular character, scene,
idea, etc. It may be primarily melodic, harmonic, rhyth-
mic, or a combination of them. As used by Wagner in his
later works, leading themes not only serve in an illustrative
capacity, but also give coherence

and unity. Their use in
the Flying Dutchman is undeveloped, but the principle begins
to emerge. Of Tannhauser (produced 1845) and Lohengrin
(completed 1848), both based on Teutonic legends,

the
latter shows the greater advance in technique. It also
shows the musical side of Wagner's nature rapidly develop-
ing. While there are still passages
which look back to the
style of Rmdt though fewer
than in Tamhauser, there are
others, the prelude to Act i, for example, in which we can
see that whatever Wagner may have thought of himself as
poet, dramatist, or what not,

he matters most as a musician.
During his exile, Wagner did a great deal of heavy think-
his arguments
ing on the problems of opera, expounding
and conclusions in his essays Art and Revolution (1849), The
Art Work of the Future (1850) and Opera and Drama (1852).
Briefly, and very broadly, his conclusions may
be sum-
marised as follows. Opera must go back to the original
aims of its founders, and be thought of as musical drama.
All the factors concerned libretto, singing, acting, staging,
the orchestra, etc., are of equal importance. The music
must no longer be allowed to override the unfolding of the
drama; it must be the means of expression of it, not an end
in itself. The action must not be held up by the 'set num-
must unfold continuously.
it The must
aria as such
ber';
therefore be discarded. The vocal writing must vary be-
tween pure and according to
recitative song-like melody,
the needs of the situation at any given moment. The
will give
orchestra, utilising a texture of leading themes,
a continuous commentary on the action, and must begin,
in the overture, by 'exciting our feeling from a general state
of tension to a special sensation of premonition'. The plot
should be based on national legend, cast into alliterative
poetry. We may note that Wagner always wrote his own
libretti.
In Rhinegold, the first of the huge tetralogy of music

dramas known as The Ring of the Nibelungen,* Wagner carries
out his theories with considerable strictness, but in the re-
maining three, as well as in his other works, Tristan and
Isolda, The Mastersingers ofNuremberg^ and Parsifal, the musi-
cian pure and simple cannot be restrained, so that the
music itself tends to become the predominant factor. Not
that he ever dropped back to the 'melody opera' of former
times. But, as Prof. Gerald Abraham says,f 'Wagner was
no rigid doctrinaire*. The poem of Tristan is not entirely
alliterative, while that of The Mastersingers is in normal
rhymed verse. The *set piece' appears, even in The Val-
kyrie;Siegmund's Spring Song is an example. Still more
outside the strict theory of Opera and Drama is the quintet
in the last act of The Mastersingers, of which Mr. Ernest
Newman once remarked that it has no right to be there
at and yet is the emotional climax of the whole work.
all,
The way in which the whole action is held up while five
people express their feelings and emotions is almost pure
18th century; but nobody, in the face of such sheer beauty,
is likely to cavil on that account. The increasingly im-
portant role of the orchestra is evidenced by the fact that
sections of the music dramas are sometimes performed as
concert pieces, without voices at all. The orchestra, in
fact, tells the story in its own idiom; it provides, as it were,
an symphonic poem which runs concurrently
illustrative
with the action on the stage. It must be realised that
Wagner, although rightly called a reformer, did not simply
sit down and think out in cold blood a new
way of
writing opera. From the Dutchman onwards his ideas gradu-
ally crystallised, reaching their full expression in the Ring
and later works.
* The others, in order, are The Valkyrie, Siegfried, and The Twilight
of the Gods.
t In A Hundred Tears of Music.
ROMANTIC OPERA 203
Wagner was not only an operatic reformer; he was also

a harmonic innovator, or rather developer. In this direc-
tion he was to some extent indebted to Liszt, with whom
he was for long on terms of intimacy, and whose daughter
Gosima he married as his second wife. Liszt's harmonic
innovations are at times quite startling, and in some of his
latest piano works he anticipates procedures which are
customarily associated more with such a composer as

Debussy, who was not born until 1862. Wagner was not
eager to admit what he had learned from Liszt, though he
did so once, in a somewhat secretive manner, in a letter
to Hans von Biilow, Cosima's first husband. Broadly speak-
ing, his harmony developed in the direction of intense use

of chromaticism, and a loosening of the bonds of key. He
did not, like some of his successors, attempt to 'invent' a
new system; he simply expanded on the basis of tradition,
thereby creating a system which was perfectly adapted to
his own expressive ends.
At the other end of the operatic scale from Wagner stands
his great contemporary Giuseppe Verdi (1813 to 1901).
Verdi was no reformer. He was brought up in the Italian
tradition, in which vocal melody was all-important, and
raised the style to its highest point. To the Wagnerians
his name was anathema, since he stood for all that they
despised in opera. His operatic career falls into four periods.
The was a time of apprenticeship, up to 1850, during
first
which he had more or less success with works which are

now almost forgotten, such as Oberto and Ernani. In these
the style of Bellini and Donizetti is evident. In the second
period are Rigoletto, M Trovatore and La Traviata. In these
he really found himself, talcing the style of Donizetti to a
climax, but with greater dramatic power and greater ear-
nestness than the older man had ever achieved. To Verdi,
despite his adherence to tradition in the importance of the
voice and the relative unimportance of the orchestra, opera
was far from being a mere 'concert in costume'; it was a
serious matter, as it was to the Wagnerians. Mention of
opera, or art in general, as 'entertainment' infuriated him.
Even in his early operas his characters are alive; they are
not mere stage puppets. And however melodramatic he
may seem at times, there is always underlying sincerity.
The third period begins, from 1855, with The Sicilian
Vespers, written for Paris; this is grand opera to the French
taste. It is followed by three purely Italian operas, Simon*
Boccanegra, The Masked Ball and The Force of Destiny, and

then another work for Paris, Don Carlos. In all of these
there is increasing control of the medium and increasing
importance is given to the orchestra. The climax of this
period comes with Aida, a grand opera in every sense of
the word. It was written to order, for the opening of the
Suez Canal in 1871, at a time when the practice of com-
missioning operas had fallen into disuse. But Verdi, who
took no small part in the shaping of the libretto, found no
difficulty in providing a really great work.
Until 1887 Verdi wrote no more operas, but in that year
he produced Othello, and both based on
in 1893 Falstaff,
the Shakespearian characters. In them a transfigured style
is seen. Without imitating Wagner, though there is some
use of the leit-motif principle, Verdi makes of Othello a music
drama, with highly expressive declamation and a rich and
subtle use of the orchestra. Falstaff is the apotheosis of
but at the same time employs the principle of
opera buffa,
music drama as seen through the eyes of its composer.
Neither Wagner nor Verdi wrote much of importance
apart from their stage works. Wagner's Faust overture has
already been mentioned. His only other notable work is
the Siegfried Idyll, of such beauty that we can
only regret
its lack of successors. Verdi's one great non-operatic work
is the
Requiem Mass which, although it may appear super-
ficially to be rather theatrical in conception and outlook,
is nevertheless of the
greatest power and sincerity.
Wagner's ideas have affected, to a greater or less degree,
almost every writer of operas since his
day, including
Englebert Humperdinck (1854 to 1921), whose one really
ROMANTIC OPERA 205
successful work, Hansel and Gretel, has been described as

'Wagner for children'. Of non-Wagnerian
works, Otto
Nicolai's Merry Wives of Windsor (1849) *s a delightful
example of German opera buffa, while Peter Cornelius's
Barber of Baghdad (1858), though never a great success,
exhibits composer's fine lyrical talent.
its
In most important successors were Ruggiero

Italy, Verdi's
Leoncavallo, Pietro Mascagni and Giacomo Puccini. The
first two of these are famous chiefly for one work each,
Pagliacci and Cavallena Rusticana respectively. Both com-

posers had a more than adequate feeling for dramatic,
sometimes melodramatic effect. Their use of the orchestra
is approximately that of the late Verdi, and the aria, with-
out being obviously obtrusive, still holds its place in their

work. Puccini was a greater musician, showing to some
extent Wagnerian influence in the musically sustained
and in his modified use of the leit-motif.
interest of his scenes
While not a 'modern' in the colloquial sense, his harmony
shows some originality, and his orchestration is masterly.
Although his popularity rests mainly on such operas as La
Boheme, Tosca and Madame Butterfly, he reached perhaps his
greatest heights in his last, unfinished work, Twrandot.

In France the style of Meyerbeer's grand opera was fol-
lowed by Jacques Hatevy (1799 to 1862), now known only
by La Juive. Berlioz, too, produced Benoenuto Cellini and
The Trojans9 of which the latter, at least, is a greater work
than the rarity of its performance would suggest. The
more lyrical opera is represented by Gounod's Faust (1859)
and Romeo and Juliet (1867), F&icien David's Lalla Rookh
(1862) and Ambroise Thomas's Mignon (1866), in all of
which the accent is on lyrical melody, with a complete lack
of anything Wagnerian. Rather later ( 1 877} is Saint-Sagns's
well-known Samson and Delilah.
is Carmen
Possibly the greatest French opera of the period
b
(1875) y Georges Bizet (1838 to 1875). Despite some use
of a pseudo-Spanish idiom, it is typically French in its
economy and deftness, while the orchestration is masterly.
so6 A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
some was
Bizet, notwithstanding limitations, possibly the
most naturally gifted French musician of his time, and in
Carmn he produced a masterpiece,
RECORDS
Cat. No,
Weber Cavatlna from DerFreiscktz OALP, 1076
Overture, Oberm DIP, 1069
Overture, Ritnv AK. 1820/1

LWA. 5o3 8
Elsa's Dream (kkngrk) yRO.ioS
Prize Song (Mtutompr) DB. 1858
JJ "Dl_* T
OALP. 1014
7EB0.6oi8
Brunnhilde's Immolation OALP, 1014
Siegfried IdyU OALP. 1086
Verdi CdtsUAih (AM) 30ii6EPL
A 6010
ts-/J Tmaton Pooa
Verdi Recital
LXA.3094
OALP. 1284
Leoncavallo GEPO. 700003
Puccini
Operatic arias 33 OCX. 1204
Bizet
Excerpts from Carm SELO. 1538
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LATE ROMANTICS
AND NATIONALISTS
Chapter 14 some reference was made to developments
in harmony and form. We shall now deal briefly with
INthese developments in the hands of a later generation,
together with some consideration of national movements.
It must be realised that not every composer has been vitally
affected by all or any of the newer ideas. A nationalist,
for example, may be romantic in his outlook, but not every
late romantic was a nationalist. Some composers have
pursued new lines of thought to a considerable degree, while
others, contemporary with them, have been content to
depart little if at all from traditional methods. In the past
hundred years, from about the middle of the igth century,
there has been, as has so often happened in earlier ages,
a good deal of overlapping of styles. In the present cen-
tury, for instance, we find the late romanticism of Elgar
and Strauss running parallel with the 'advanced* modernity
of Schonberg and Bart6k.
As we draw nearer to our own times it becomes more
and more difficult to assess the value and importance of
the work of composers and schools of thought, and to decide
which tendencies are likely to have a lasting effect on the
development of music. Our judgment of contemporary or
near-contemporary art is almost inevitably coloured by per-
sonal preference, and we may, as it were, be thrown off our
critical balance by the impact of new ideas. An instance
of this is to be seen in the case of Alexander Scriabin (18752
to 1915). He began by writing in a kind of post-Chopin
idiom, but gradually developed his own advanced
and
highly personal harmonic style. His later works had a
ao8 A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
startling effect in the periodaround the First World War,*
and in many quarters he was deemed to have opened up
a new path of vital importance. But he is now seen to
have dealt merely in a sort of over-ripe romanticism. His
new path turned out to be a cul-de-sac.
Properly to assess the work of a composer or the value
of a trend of thought we need to be at a distance; we have
to be able to look back over a period of time, so as to view
things whole and to see them in perspective.! Three and
a half centuries ago Gesualdo was as startling as was Scriabin
between 1910 and 1925; we can now see that his expert
mentalism was sterile. And it is worth recalling that in
their own day Telemann was considered a much greater
composer than Bach. We are now far enough from the

second half of the igth century to be able to distinguish
what is really important from what is less so.
The pioneers of harmonic development were, as has
already been stated, Wagner and Liszt. Not every com-
poser has been equally affected by their innovations, and
we find wide differences between contemporaries. Dvofak
(1841 to 1904), for example, was content with a relatively
limited harmonic vocabulary and a very moderate use of
chromaticism; Cesar Franck (1822 to 1890), on the other
hand, employed a great deal of high-powered chromaticism.
His vocabulary was more extensive and his use of it highly
personal.
The Wagnerian tendencies are marked by a broader con-
ception of tonality (key) and an increasingly free use of
discord and chromaticism. It is not merely an expansion
of the range of keys used within a movement as in the
* He was considered so 'advanced* that the late Sir Henry Wood

performed his symphonic poem Prometheus twice at one concert, so as
to give the audience a better chance of understanding it.
t E. F. Benson puts the matter pointedly in his As We Were: 'Time

acts on sound work much as it does on the vintages of the grape,
maturing and bringing out, if the juice be noble, the fuller savour of
the sunshine in which the berries ripened, while if it is thin by nature,
time only reveals its weakness and age its acidity.'
LATE ROMANTICS AND NATIONALISTS 209
Eroica symphony and comparable instances. The develop-
ment in the use of chromaticism, sometimes to such
lies
an extent that the tonality becomes almost, if not

entirely,
5
obscured. This 'stretching of tonality may be illustrated
5
by the 'Magic Sleep motive in Wagner's Valkyrie:
Ex.35
c 9
There are no new chords here; even the combination at
(a) can be explained in purely academic terms. It is the
juxtaposition of the chords and the resultant vagueness of
key which are new. It should not be thought that Wagner
and his followers necessarily employed such methods to the
exclusion of anything eke. Their vocabularies included
both the old and the new, and one would merge into the
other according to the expressive needs of the moment. In
Woteafs Farewell (the closing scene of the Valkyrie) the pass-
age quoted above is immediately followed by a long stretch
of almost undiluted diatonic writing.
In this advanced chromaticism and the expansion of
tonality we may see a parallel with what happened to the
modal system during the late i6th and early iyth centuries.
The use of musicajicta gradually destroyed the individuality
of the modes and paved the way for the major-minor scale
2io A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
system. The chromaticism of the late igth century created
conditions under which new technical methods could
emerge, tending to the disintegration of classical tonality.*
.
In the opinion of some the day of the major-minor system
is over. It is not proposed to argue the point here, but it
may perhaps be pointed out that there are still composers

of international reputation who seem to find something vital
to say without severing all links with tradition.
A few aspects of formal development must now be con-
sidered. We have seen how Wagner's theories of opera led
him to the virtual abolition of the set number and to the
greatest possible continuity of dramatic action and musical

thought. We
have also noted how his use of the orchestra
became more and more integral in the structure of his
music-dramas. Directly or indirectly, his ideas have affected
almost every writer of opera since his day. Not that all
have made such consistent use of the leading-theme prin-
ciple, nor has the orchestra necessarily been used to pro-
vide a kind of symphonic poem concurrent with the stage
action. But the principle of continuity at least has been
taken for granted, together with the employment of the
orchestra as something very much more than a mere
accompanying instrument.
In instrumental music the developments of the earlier
romantics have followed a logical course. We have re-
ferred to Berlioz's use of the idetfixe as a method of binding
together the movements of a symphony. This is paralleled
among the later romantics by the frequent introduction of
a 'motto theme' practically another name for the same
thing announced in an introduction and brought in at
dramatically appropriate points in the course of the work.
Tschaikovsky (1840 to 1893) provides obvious examples in
his 4th and 5th symphonies. In the former the motto re-
appears (in the first and last movements only) always in the
* A view of the processes as they arose in the work of one composer
may be studied in Arnold Schonberg et son osuore by Rene* Leibowitz
(libraire Janin), unfortunately not available in an English translation.
same form and with the same significance as it is

originally
stated. In the latter it recurs in all the later movements,
undergoing some metamorphosis. There is no particular
subtlety in this, though its effectiveness is undeniable. The
Brahmsian art of concealing art by the use of a germinal
figure is more and is found, for instance, in Elgar's
subtle
ist symphony, where the initial descending four notes of
the motto tend to associate themselves with later material.
We may refer also to Sibelius's 4th symphony with its almost
obsessive insistence on the interval of the augmented 4th.
The work of many composers of the last hundred years
abounds in such thematic interrelationships, though the
extent to which they are deliberate is at times debatable.
A case which we may take as intentional occurs in the 4th
symphony of Dvorak; compare the first subject of the first

movement with the theme of the variations in the finale:
The cyclic principle exhibited in such works as Schubert's

Wanderer Fantasie andpiano sonata has been widely
Liszt's
adopted, in some cases whole-heartedly, in others only par-

tially. For the former we may turn to the piano concerto
of Rimsky-Korsakov (1864 to 1908), which copies the Liszt
sonata even to the enunciation of three basic themes in an
introduction. Partial application of the principle is seen
in Franck's violin sonata and his Prelude, Ana and Finale
for piano, among other works. In his one symphony Franck
uses thematic cross-reference, material from the first two
movements recurring, metamorphosed, in the last. Dvorak
takes the idea farther in his New World symphony, incor-
porating themes from the first two movements into the
development of thej&wzfe.
The later romantics show further development of Beet-
hoven's attitude to the composition of subject-matter. His
treatment of the bridge-passage as part of the thematic
material and his tendency to avoid any obvious indication
of the beginning of the second group* has led composers
to treat the exposition as one consolidated lump of subject-
matter. (The way was pointed by Mozart in the last
movement of the Jupiter symphony.) There is generally
something which, from its character and possibly its
key, may be labelled as the beginning of the second
group, but it is, so to speak, only the first among equals.
Elgar's two symphonies provide good examples, including,
in the ist, ideas which occur in both first and second
groups.
Another development arising from the romantic outlook
isthe frequent use of an 'emotional programme' in extended
works. The most obvious, and perhaps the most common,
is a kind of ascent from darkness to
light (a] struggle,
(b) relaxation, (c) triumph. The progenitor is Beethoven's
5th symphony, and among its offspring may be mentioned
Franck's symphony, Elgar's ist, Sibelius's 2nd and Tschai-
kovsky's 4th and 5th. In his 6th (Pathttique] the last-named
composer effectively modified what looked like develop-
ing into the same programme, ending in the depths of
despair.
While the late romantics concerned themselves largely
with problems of form, one composer stands out as the
inheritor of the classical outlook and the truly architectural
mind, the Finn Jean Sibelius (1865 to 1957). Possibly
more than any of his contemporaries he achieved an integra-
* An excellent example of such a 'concealed opening' occurs in the
first movement of the sonata, op. 1 10. The reader may care to spend
some little time deciding exactly where the second group begins.
tion of form and content unsurpassed since Beethoven.
From the rather angular sonata form basis of his ist sym-
phony he progressed, via the tremendous compression of
the first movement of No. 4 and the 9
'telescoping of first
movement and scher& of No. 5, to the entirely original
structure, in one movement, of No. 7, possibly the greatest
masterpiece of musical architecture since Beethoven.* He
was a master of 'economy of means', as may be seen in his
symphonic poem Tapiola. In this, practically everything
arises from a single short basic theme,
metamorphosis being
employed in a masterly fashion.
Development of the symphonic poem is associated largely
with Richard Strauss (1864 to X 949)- Far more than Liszt
he allowed form to be dictated by programme, so that no
real understanding of the music is possible without
pre-
knowledge of the literary background. Where Strauss goes
farther than any of his predecessors, and this
applies also
in some of his operatic writing, is in his use of realism, even
to the uncanny reproduction of non-musical sounds such
as the bleating of sheep in the second of the Don Quixote
variations-! The question then arises whether such pro-
cedures are musically justifiable. The point cannot be
argued here, but it may be pointed out that the principle is
merely an extension of that used in, for example, the 'storm*
movement of Beethoven's Pastoral symphony.
Nationalism has two aspects, the innate and the culti-
vated. The national or racial characteristics of composers
have always tended to show in their music; each race has
produced its own interpretation of the common stock of
technique and style. We may think, for example, of the
earnest approach of the Germans and their frequent
tendency to complexity; or of the precision and elegance
of the French. No Frenchman could have written the
* Discussion of Sibelius's architecture is

impossible here. The reader
is referred to Sibelius, by Gerald Abraham (Lindsay Drummond).
t The method, for those who are interested, is 'flutter-tonguing' on

muted brass.
ai4 A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
B Mass or the gth Symphony. Equally, no German
minor
could have written Carmen, nor could either have composed
Aida. But such distinctions of style are instinctive, as are
the Englishness of Purcell or Elgar, or the Russianness of
Tschaikovsky.
Nationalism in the commonly accepted meaning of the
term implies the conscious basing of a composer's idiom
on that of the folk-music of his country. Such nationalism
arose in the igth century as a revolt against the shackles of
an alien style, and its effects have been as it were local.
There has been no question of new basic ideas on structure
arising from a nationalist outlook,
nor has it given rise to
notable developments in the harmonic field. Nationalist
composers have followed the prevailing trends to a greater
or less degree, according to personal inclination, in the same
way as have non-nationalists. Although a national idiom
may ultimately become instinctive, it normally begins by
deliberate cultivation. This is seen, for example, in the
case of Michael Glinka (1804 to 1857), the first of the Russian
nationalists. His early works are in the Italian tradition,
which up to his time had been considered the only accept-
able style in musically educated Russia.* Glinka, having
remarked to his teacher Siegfried Dehn that he was tired
of the Italian style, was told to 'go home and write Russian
music*. This he did in his operas A Life for the Czar (1836)
and Russian and Ludmilla (1842), and although the 'folk*
influence is not so strong in them as it was to become
in the work of some of his successors, it was sufficient
for their composer to be accused of writing 'coachmen's
music*. The libretti are based on national (Russian)
stories*
The importance of nationalism lies in the breaking away
from alien influence. Leaving aside France, which has
*
During the i8th and early igth centuries the prevailing taste, set
by the court, was for Italian opera. Music and musicians were largely
imported, such men as Galuppi, Paisiello and Gimarosa holding court
positions. Russian musicians were sent to Italy for training and wrote
in the Italian style.
always tended to be individualistic in matters of art, all

the greatest music from the beginning of the i8th century
had emanated from Germany.* No other country had
produced composers of the calibre of Bach, Handel, Mozart
or Beethoven, and practically all the great developments
in music had arisen there. The classical sonata and sym-
phony were of German development; Beethoven the seer
was a German; the romantic movement, initiated by Ger-
man poets, was furthered largely by German composers;
Wagner's operatic reforms were the work of a German;
and so on. It may be said that as far as Central Europe
9
and England were concerned, 'music meant 'German
music', while in Russia it meant little but Italian opera.
The German (or Italian) manner of thought and the tech-
nique bound up with it were taken for granted. The
nationalist, however, began to think on his own lines, in
his own language. The work of the early nationalists
enabled their followers to forge a musical language, or
idiom, of their own, so that to whatever extent they were
affected by the work of the outstanding figures of their
generation, they were no longer using the lingua franca of
German, or Italian, but wrote, as it were, in their native
tongue.
Considerations of space forbid any detailed account of
the work of individual composers, and little more than a
mere list of the most important must suffice. In point of
time the Russian school, headed by Glinka, led the way.
He was followed by Alexander Dargomijsky (1813 to 1869)
and the group known as the Tive', who deliberately adopted
the thesis that music should be based on national or 'folk*
idiom. They were Alexander Borodin (1833 to 1887),
C&ar Cui (1835 to 1918), Mfly Balakireff (1837 to 1910),
Modeste Mussorgsky (1839 to 1881) and Nicholas Rimsky-
Korsakov (1844 to 1908). The founder was Balakireff and
the chief propagandist Cui, whose own compositions are
curiously devoid of a national idiom.
* In this sense Germany, of course, includes Austria.
2i6 A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
Immediately after the Russians came the Bohemians,
Frederick Smetana (1824 to 1884), followed by Antonin
Dvorak (1841 to 1904). The latter's pupil Vitezslav Novak
(1870 to 1949) shows nationalist leanings in his later works.
In Spain, lacking music of any particular distinction since
the days of Morales and Victoria, a national school was
founded by Felipe Pedrdl (1841 to 1922), whose influence
was asserted mainly through his writings and teaching.
Notable among his followers are his pupils Enrique
Granados (1867 to I 9 I 6) and Manuel de Falla (1876 to
1946); also Isaac Albeniz (1860 to 1909). A generation
later are Joaquin Turina (1882 to 1949) and Joaquin Nin
(1879-1949).
Of Scandinavians the best-known nationalist is Edvard
Grieg (1843 to *97)9 a Norwegian of Scottish descent. He
was essentially a miniaturist, with a predominantly lyrical
talent which served him well in small-scale works. In the
larger forms his German training shows prominently, and
he is less successful. In Denmark Carl Nielsen (1865 to
1931) has a high reputation.
In England, apart from the work of Arne, music suffered
a rapid decline after the death of Purcell. There is a long
list
any of whom contributed in any
of mediocrities, few if
way development of the main stream of music.

to the
Samuel Wesley (1766 to 1837) is notable for some fine
Latin motets and for his championship of Bach at a time
when his name was hardly known. Wesley's natural son
Samuel Sebastian (1810 to 1876) exerted an influence for
good on music for the Anglican rite. William Sterndale
Bennett (1816 to 1875), friend of Mendelssohn and Schu-
mann, never fulfilled his early promise, largely owing to
his professional appointments as Principal of the Royal
Academy of Music and Professor of Music at Cambridge
University. Arthur Seymour Sullivan (1842 to 1900), de-
spite a varied output of oratorios, cantatas, orchestral works,
etc., now lives only by his light operas, with libretti by
W. S. Gilbert. They contain a wealth of good tunes and
economical and sparkling orchestration. Their social and

9
political
satire is now 'dated ,
but their continued popu-
larity is assured by the music, which, within its inevitable
of great attractiveness.*
limits, is
Three names herald the real revival of English music,
Alexander Mackenzie (1847 to 1935), Hubert Parry (1848
to 1918) and Charles Villiers Stanford to 1924).
(18512
While hardly of the first
rank, they paved the way for the
next generation, many of whom were pupils of Parry and
Stanford. Stanford, of Irish birth, was perhaps the most
spontaneously gifted. His work has at times an attractive
Irish-folky flavour, and some of his songs are perfect gems.
Parry was at his best, perhaps, in choral works, where his
fine contrapuntal technique, derived from his study of Bach
(his book on that composer remains a standard work), has

full play.
Born in 1857, the outstanding figure of his generation
was Edward Elgar, who died in 1934. Unlike the three
composers mentioned above, he had no academic training,
but in natural gifts he excelled them all. His early works,
while often showing his great gift for melody, give little
foretaste of the possibilities realised in the Enigma Variations
of 1899 an(i t*16 l n Ik* f compositions which followed.
In the Dream of Gerontius, the two symphonies, the violin
and 'cello concertos, and the symphonic study Fdstqff, to
name but a few, Elgar proved his right to be called the
greatest English composer since Purcell. His mastery

of
the orchestra was consummate (though he rarely, if ever,
indulged in Straussian 'stunting'), and Falstaff showed that

in the sphere of illustrative music he had no need to fear
competition.
* Mention must not be omitted of Johann Strauss (1825 to 1899),
second of the line of great Viennese waltz-kings. His best known
9
In
operetta, Die Fledermaus (The Bat ), is a complete masterpiece.
view of the ultra-serious view of music which is not uncommon among
students and the tendency to look down on 'light* music, it may be worth
while to point out that such great artists as Lotte Lehmann and
Elisabeth Schumann were c[uite happy to turn from The Rxng or The
Mastersingers and take part in The Bat,,
2i8 A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
The Englishncss of Elgar,
as of Parry, is of the instinctive,
intangible kind; there is no use of a 'folk' idiom. In the
work of Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872 to 1958) we find
an idiom whose roots are largely in the folksong tradition,
influenced by his study of the works of the early poly-
phonists. Dr. H. C. Colles put the matter succinctly
when he remarked, in connection with Vaughan Williams's
Pastoral symphony, that his 'creative power seems to have
been set free by his converse with the folk singers. 9 He was
in no way limited in his harmonic outlook; like Sibelius, he
was prepared to use anything from the mildest consonance
to the most astringent dissonance (as in his 4th symphony)
to give appropriate expression to his thoughts. Vaughan
Williams had a great influence on the younger generation,
and helped them by his example to find their own language.
In his long list of works, from the Fantasia on a Theme of Tallis
onwards, there is none which does not bear the imprint
of a strong and sincere personality.
The work of Gustav Hoist (1874 to 1934), despite the
frequent use of a markedly dissonant idiom, shows nation-
alist feeling, and so to some extent does that of Frederick
Ddius (1862 to 1934), together with influences from Greig
and Debussy (to be considered later).
Nationalism in Hungary is represented by Zoltan
Kodaly (b. 1882) and Bela Bart6k (1881 to 1945). Of the
latter some mention will be made in the next
chapter.
Kodaly's studies of Hungarian folksong have given a
distinctly national flavour to such works as his Psalmus
Hungarian, one of the finest choral works of the present
century.
We
have already referred briefly to Sibelius. It may be
well to mention that he was not a nationalist in the
accepted
sense and made no use of a folk idiom. He has been
described as a 'nationalist in sentiment9 ,* as was
Elgar, but
there is none of the deliberate nationalism of the Russian
c 9
Kve .
*
Sibelius, by Gerald Abraham, article by David Cherniavsky.
Tschaikovsky, too, might be called a nationalist in senti-
ment. He did occasionally make use of a Russian folk

tune, as in the last movement of his 4th symphony, but
he never adopted the methods of the 'Five'. His work is
outstanding in its free expression of emotion, sometimes
degenerating to sentimentality, and he was in the same line
of superb orchestral craftsmen as Mozart and Mendels-
sohn.* In the next generation are Alexander Glazounov
(1865 to 1936) and Serge Rachmaninov (1873 to 943)
I
Neither was a deliberate nationalist, nor in the front rank

of composers, but both produced much work with con-
siderable appeal. Rachmaninov's songs rank with those
of Mussorgsky, and he perhaps took the display concerto
for piano to its apotheosis.
The Germans, despite the occasional influence of the
volkslied in Brahms's songs, have yet to show interest in folk
idiom. Apart from Strauss there are the Austrian Anton
Bruckner (1824 to 1896) and the Bohemian Gustav Mahler
(1860 to 1911), Viennese by education and residence.
3
Both are 'classic-romantic , both absorbed Wagnerian
influences, and both tend to prolixity. Opinions vary as
to the ultimate value of their compositions; all that can
be said objectively is that they continued the tendencies of
Wagnerian romanticism.
As in Germany, so in France there have been no signs
of interest in folksong as a basis of style. The ballets of
Leo Delibes (1836 to 1891) and the operas ofJules Massenet
to J 9*9)> Gustavo
(1842 to 1912), Andrd Messager (1853
Charpentier (1860 to 1956) and Emmanuel Ghabrier
to are French in their elegance and
(1841 1894) typically
charm. Rather later was Paul Dukas (1865 to 1935), who
is known chiefly by his vivid and amusing scherzo, Uapprenti
Sorcier. The most serious-minded composer of the century

was Franck, who, although of Belgian parentage, was so long
* An Where
example occurs at the opening of the 5th symphony.
another composer might have stated the motto theme on one clarinet,
Tschaikovsky uses two in unison a quite unique

effect.
resident in Paris that he
is usually counted as a Frenchman.
His somewhat weighty romanticism, with its highly per-

sonal melodic idioms and at times exotically chromatic
harmony, was something new in French music. Notable
among his pupils were Vincent d'Indy (1851 to 1931),
Henri Duparc (1848 to 1933), famous for some fine songs,
and Guy Ropartz (1864 to 1956). Standing apart from
this group, Gabriel Faure (1845 to 1924) exerted much
influence as a teacher, perhaps his most important
pupil
being Maurice Ravel (1875 to I 937)
RECORDS
Composer Title No.
Cat.
Moussorgsky Great Scenes from Boris Godounov OALP. 1
323
Pictures at an Exhibition OBLP. 1003
Borodin Prince Igor Polovtsian Dances
etc. 33 OCX. 1327
Rimsky-
Korsakov Scheherazade 33 SX. 1007
Smetana The Moldau (from Ma Wast) N ooSaoR
Bartered Bride, Overture etc.
402027 NE
Dvorak Symphony, D Minor LXTA. 2801
Symphony, E Minor (New
World} LXT. 2608
Slavonic Dances OCLP. 1019
Grieg Piano Concerto, A Minor 33 OC 1003
Lyric Suite OCLP. 1020
Granados The Lady and the Nightingale 7 EPO 7014
De Falla Suite The Three-Cornered Hat 33 CX. 1049
Franck Symphony, D Minor LXTA. 2905
33 OCX. 1201
Violin Sonata
Tchaikovsky Symphony No. 5 LPM. 18333
Symphony No. 6 LPM. 18334
Nutcracker Suite OCLP. 1060
Bruckner Symphony No. 3 LXTA. 2969
Mahler Symphony No. 4 LXT. 2718
Wolf Song Recital LW. 5 i62
Song Recital 33 OCX. 1162
Strauss TU EuLertspiegel \
Don Juan 33 CX. looi
J
Extracts from Der Rosenkaoalier OALP. 7506
LATE ROMANTICS AND NATIONALISTS
Elgar Enigma Variations KLC. 527
Violin Concerto OALP. 1456
Vaughan Fantasia on a theme of Tallis LXT. 2699
Williams London Symphony LXT. 2693
Pastoral Symphony LXT. 2787
Hoist Planets LXTA. 2871
Delius On hearing the first cuckoo
* OOT
b2QI
Summer night on the river
Sibelius Symphony No. i 33 OCX. 1085
Symphony No. 2 OALP. 1122
Symphony No. 5 33 CX. 1047
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
IMPRESSIONISM
AND THE CONTEMPORARY SCENE
A LTHOUGH the composer who is regarded as the
f-\ chief exponent of impressionism could chronologic-
JL \. ally have been dealt with in the previous chapter,
as he died in 1918, consideration of his work has been de-
ferred until now, since he brought to music a new outlook
and new methods which are most logically treated in a
section which is concerned with what is usually called
'modern' music.
The principles of impressionism are seen in the work of
such painters as Monet and Cezanne and such poets as
Verlaine and Mallarme. The painters concentrated on
light and colour as the most important elements in a pic-
ture, largely disregarding traditional methods of 'composi-
tion* and eschewing anything that savoured of photographic
realism. The poets were willing to discard prosody and
even to neglect the normal rules of syntax, concerning
themselves with the purely sensuous effect of words words
as sounds and symbols rather than as Hnfcg in a chain of
thought. Both painters and poets sought to suggest rather
than to state.
Born in 1862, Claude Achille Debussy came early under
the influence of the pictorial and poetical impressionists,
and his style came to be based on an application to music
of their underlying principles. (It is arguable that he was
to some extent anticipated by Liszt in some of his latest
piano works.) We have noted the romantics' interest in
sound as such, leading, among other things, to developments
in the use of the orchestra; Debussy's interest was in sounds
as sounds, combinations of notes, whether analysable as
'chords' in the traditional sense or not, calculated, in their
IMPRESSIONISM AND THE CONTEMPORARY SCENE 223
context, to induce certain mental or psychological reactions,

rather than as links in a musical argument. Anything con-
trapuntal was therefore alien to his style, and he was led
to experiment with such possibilities as the whole-tone scale,
though not to the extent which is sometimes imagined, and
the use of clusters of notes which can hardly be classified
as chords in the traditional manner. (For a simple example,
see the third and fourth bars from the end of the piano
prelude Le Cathedrale Engloutie.) The traditional principle

that a discord needs some kind of resolution is therefore
often completely discarded, since the traditional attitude
to discord no longer holds good. A
ninth or thirteenth
chord, for instance, is not to Debussy a discord; it is a
'sound' to be used for its particular effect the impression
it conveys in its context. Not that he attempted to sever
all linkswith the past or to found an entirely 'new' system
of harmony. Rather he indicated the possibility of a new
attitude towards its functions, retaining but expanding the
traditional vocabulary. Despite the opinions held by many
who have not closely studied his work, much of Debussy's
harmony is more straightforwardly diatonic than that of
Wagner in Tristan or Parsifal.
Debussy's aim was the capturing of a sensation or a mood,
and in this he showed himself the successor of such lyth-
and 18th-century clavecinists as Couperin. He 'attempted
to create the musical equivalent of a literature' (and, we
may add, of a pictorial art) 'permeated with ambiguity-
intriguing, deceiving, yet attractive ambiguity'.* His
music
is illustrativem a new sense. The realism of a Strauss is
not his object, though it peeps through in such a piece as the

prelude Feux d* artifice; he aims to suggest, to give an impres-
sion, like the painters and poets from whom
he took his
inspiration. In his use of the delicate tints
of the orchestra
economical to the last degree and in his highly personal
the master of
style of keyboard writing, we recognise
suggestion. We have only to listen to the very opening of
* P. H.
Lang, Music in Western Civilisation.
the famous Prilude d PAprh-midi fun Faune (1892) to realise
his ability to create an atmosphere with, as it were, the
minimum strokes of the brush.
Debussy's one opera, PelUas et Melisande, based on the

play by Maurice Maeterlinck, is at the opposite pole from
both Wagnerian music-drama and the Italian tradition.
The singing is entirely declamatory, approaching natural
speech; the orchestra is used not as
a mere accompani-
ment, nor does it provide a Wagnerian symphonic poem.
It suggests the atmosphere in an entirely individual manner.
Debussy influenced many composers to a greater or less

degree, but PelUas stands as an isolated phenomenon,
lacking both predecessors and successors.
With his latest compositions, e.g. the sonatas for piano
and violin, 'cello and piano, and flute, viola and harp
6 J
(1915-17), Debussy entered a kind of neo-classic phase,

nearer to traditional form and line though harmonically
quite advanced than his impressionist work. Neverthe-
less,he was perhaps more of a whole-hearted impressionist
than any other composer. Ravel and Delius were among
those who came under his influence. As a pupil of Faur6,
however, Ravel learned the value of formal stability,
clarity of outline, and precision; his musical characteristics
developed on different lines from those of Debussy, and
the influence of the 18th-century clavecinists is sometimes
apparent. Delius, at his best, perhaps, in smaller works,
cultivated a harmonic style which tends to be lush, and
lacked the finesse and elusiveness of the Frenchmen.
As a preliminary to some consideration of the more recent
trends in music three points must be mentioned. Firstly,
the overlapping of styles referred to in Chapter 16, post-
romantics working concurrently with the more advanced
composers. Among contemporaries we may distinguish
two main classes, though the dividing line is by no means
clearly drawn. There are those who retain strong links
with tradition, both harmonically and in their general
outlook, and those in whose work the links are wearing
more or less thin or appear to have snapped. Secondly,
we must again stress the importance of the time factor.
At the present day many different lines of development are
being pursued, almost as many, in fact, as there are indi-
vidual composers. In fifty years' time it may be
possible
from the swans and to decide which
to distinguish the geese
composers are on the main road and which are merely
exploring dead-ends. All that can be done at present is
to indicate what appear to be the general trends, without
passing an opinion as to their potential value. Thirdly,
and arising from this general rather than particular con-
sideration of contemporary work, no attempt can be made
to mention every single composer. It would be possible to
give a comprehensive list of names, but to do so would be
singularly uninformative. It is the music which matters most.
In the work of composers whose links with tradition are
still firm their harmonic
vocabulary is, logically enough,
an extension of that of Liszt and Wagner, often with some
influence from Debussy. It is still fundamentally based on
the major-minor scale system. In matters of form, too,
there is no violent break with the past, but rather a con-
tinued development of the processes of the igth century.
In many instances nationalist traits are evident to a
greater or less extent, as in the case of such British writers
as John Ireland (b. 1879), Arnold Bax (1883 to 1953), and
Herbert Howells (b. 1892). All have carried on, among
other things, the English tradition of choral music, notable
works including Bax's motet Mater ora Filium and Howells'
Hyrnnus Paradisi. Arthur Bliss (b. 1891) is more eclectic
and rather less traditional in his outlook. Of a younger
generation William Walton (b. 1902) is to be noted, forceful
and dynamic, with a highly individualised style. His Bekhaz-
zar's Feast may be coupled with the choral works mentioned
above. Younger still is Benjamin Britten (b. 1913). His
fertileimagination (especially stimulated in the setting of
words) and his fluent technique, which can still find fresh
resource in diatonic melody, enable him to achieve a wide
range of style, from a rather steely post-romanticism to the
most advanced modernity.
Among Continental composers the late romantic attitude
is perhaps less common. Kodaly has been mentioned, and we
may refer also to Ernest Bloch (1880-1959), born in Switzer-

land of Jewish parentage. He has a very original mind,
and his style and idiom, often markedly dissonant but with
a traditional background, are highly individual and of great
dynamic power. His music has often a rhapsodic tendency
and shows racial characteristics. His violin concerto is one
of the finest recent works of its genre.
Of music in Russia it is difficult to give an opinion owing
to the peculiar conditions (at least to the Western
mind)
under which artists are expected to work. Such composers
as Serge Prokofieff (1891 to 1953) and Dmitri Shostakovich
(b. 1906) have had to conform to the canons promulgated by

those who dictate artistic style in the U.S.S.R. They are
therefore not entirely at liberty to develop according to
their natural inclinations.
In recent years a number of native-born composers have
appeared in the United States of America. They cannot
be regarded as a 'school' since their styles and aims vary
widely. The methods of the earlier writers were naturally
based on the German tradition, but more recently there
has been a tendency to considerable individuality and an
eagerness to absorb the most advanced methods. Many of
the leading European musicians have made their home in
the U.S.A., and their influence is
evidently strong in shap-
ing at any rate the language of a number of American
composers. Among the more prominent of these are Samuel
Barber (b. 1910), Aaron Copland (b. 1900), Roy Harris
(b. 1898) and Virgil Thompson (b. 1896).
We must now deal briefly with the work of the more
advanced composers. Apart from a completely free treat-
ment of dissonance, the breaking down of the traditional
distinction between concord and discord mentioned in
Chapter 3, and a new attitude to form, the notable feature

of such workthe disintegration, of tonality. To many
is
contemporary composers the major-minor scale system is

played out; 'key* is a thing of the past. Thus, chromati-
cism in the true sense of the word no longer exists. Chroma-
ticism means colouring. Notes of the diatonic scale are
'coloured'by accidentals. We see the possibilities of this
taken to an advanced stage in the late Wagner and in the
work of many of the contemporary post-romantics. But
the true 'modern', in discarding traditional tonality, also
automatically discards chromaticism. The twelve notes of
what is usually called the chromatic scale all become of
equal importance, so that there is nothing left to be coloured
unless we introduce intervals smaller than a semitone, as
has been suggested by Alois Haba* (The result of this,
interestingenough in theory, is that to the normal Western
ear the music merely sounds out of tune.)
In the work of the more advanced composers we find
not only new technical methods, but a new attitude to the
function and meaning of music itself. The traditionalist,
however startling his music may seem harmonically, still
looks upon it as a means of emotional expression, even

though the emotion may not always be universally palat-
able. The true 'modern' often tends to what is called
'cerebral' music. This implies that composition is more
a matter of 'patterning' with sounds, according to a more
or less definite plan. Some, indeed, seem to suggest that
their music not intended to have any 'meaning' in the
is
usual sense of the word; it is rather a matter of an almost

mathematical handling of sounds, regardless of euphony.
Such a conception of an art is new, unless we go back
to the early days of polyphony when a similar attitude
seems largely to have held good. certainly in direct
It is
opposition to the aims of composers since the I5th century,

whatever variations there have been in style and method.
Most notably opposed to the romantic spirit of the
it is
igth century music as a direct response to, and expression

of, feeling. A reaction of some kind was to be expected.
History shows us that when a style reaches its apogee a
revulsion is sooner or later inevitable. We may recall the
aversion of the Camerata to polyphony. Non-musical factors
also have influence; in the case of the Camerata their pre-
occupation with Greek drama, for example. In the case

of 20th-century music we have to allow for two world wars
and a number of revolutions, together with the advent of
the 'mechanical age', tending to modify man's outlook on
life. This is reflected in the work of at least a proportion
of artists of all Painters and sculptors produce 'ab-
kinds.
conveying
stractions', no emotional message and represent-
ing nothing except some kind of visual pattern. Composers
attempt to follow their lead, as Debussy followed that of
the impressionist painters and poets.
The new outlook is expressed in 'neo-classicism', of which
we have noted signs but not more than signs in the late
Debussy. It implies a complete turning away from the
emotionalism of the late romantics and a return to many
older forms concerto grosso, suite, fugue, passacaglia, etc.
which are associated especially with Bach. The revival
of contrapuntal writing, alien to the impressionists, and of
the stricter contrapuntal forms, alien to the true romantics,
is a notable feature of contemporary music, as well as the
cultivation of chamber music. The earliest neo-classicist

was Ferruccio Busoni (1866 to 1924), though his popular
fame rests on his prowess as a pianist. Such a work as his
Fantasia Contrappuntistica (1912) clearly looks back to Bach's
Art of Fugue for its inspiration. It was not, however, until
Igor Stravinsky (b. 1882) produced such works as his Octet
for Wind Instruments (1923) and Piano Concerto (1924) that
neo-classicism began to have any widespread effect. The
characteristic impersonality is
many works by
seen also in
Paul Hindemith (b. 1895), in which he pursues a highly
developed contrapuntal style. His Ludus Tonalis is another
descendant of the Art of Fugue, and of the Forty-eight.
On the fringe, as it were, of neo-classicism lies the work
of a number of composers who, while not to be considered
as true exponents of this style, have nevertheless attempted

to break away, in various ways, from romanticism. The
band of composers in France who called themselves Les Six
and who had a not inconsiderable vogue immediately after
the First World War, are a case in point. They were Louis
Durey (b. 1888), Arthur Honegger (1892-1955, of Swiss
parentage), Germaine Tailleferre (b. 1892), Darius Milhaud
(b. 1892), Georges Auric (b. 1899) and Francis Poulenc (b.
1 899) Besides being anti-romantics they also placed them-
.
selves in opposition to the impressionism of Debussy, fol-
lowing the leadership of Erik Satie. Honegger seems to

some extent to have modified his point of view of late years,
and has produced works of considerable power and origin-
5
ality. Poulenc is an exponent of the 'witty in music, some-

times becoming merely flippant. There is often a kind of
light 'entertainment value', but seldom any great depth of
meaning. With him may be mentioned the Englishman
LordBerners (1883 to 1950) and Prokofieffinhis earlier years.
Walton, too, indulged in this witty approach in his satirical
music to Edith Sitwcll's Fafadea. masterpiece of its kind.
The desire to experiment, to explore new technical
methods and possibilities, has led composers in many direc-
tions. In some cases such experiment has been systematic,
but in others it seems to have been largely empirical. Of
composers who have made systematic attempts to enlarge
the bounds of harmony Bela Bartok is noteworthy. His
curiosity regarding new aspects of sounds and their organi-
sation, supplementary to traditional methods, led him to
explore, among other things, the use of new scales, poly*
tonality (two or more keys simultaneously) and
chords built
up in 4ths and other intervals instead of the customary srds.
His Mikrokosmos for piano is a simple but instructive exposi-
tion of such experiments. Hindemith, too, has done much
to elaborate a logical, though quite personal system of
harmony. He was, perhaps more than now, a believer in
GebroMchsmusik utility music remarking that *a composer
should neverwrite unlesshe knows ofa demand for his work;
not for his own satisfaction'. In one respect, therefore, he
looks back to the attitude of the 18th-century kapellmeister.
Experiment has not been confined to the harmonic side.

The 'tyranny of the barline' has come under fire, in attempts
to break away from the regular metrical accentuation which
has been the norm for some three hundred years. Such a
work as Stravinsky's ballet Le Sacre du Printemps, especially
in its final movement, is epoch-making in this direction.
Notable, too, is the tendency of some composers to discard
the standard orchestral combination which has developed
since the second half of the i8th century. The early years
of the present century saw the apotheosis of the mammoth
orchestra in the works of such men as Strauss and Mahler,
but the contemporary composer often prefers not merely
to reduce the number of players but to use entirely new
combinations of instruments. Schonberg's works of his
early post-Wagnerian phase the Gumlieder and Pelleas and
Melisande utilise enormous forces, but his Chamber Sym-
phony of 1906 goes to the other extreme, requiring only
fifteen solo instruments. Stravinsky's Sacre du Printemps
(1913) needs a huge orchestra, but his Histoire du Soldat
(1918) is scored for one each of violin, double-bass, clarinet,
bassoon, cornet and trombone, with eight percussion instru-
ments. The tendency generally is to employ only those
instruments which are felt to be actually needed, rather
than to write automatically for a full normal orchestra.
Economic factors have also to be considered. It is useless
to demand an orchestra of a hundred-odd players when
nobody can afford to pay them.
We have mentioned die wide variations of style to be
found in the work of some contemporary composers. In
some cases we can trace a clear and continuous line of
development onwards from a post-romantic idiom to more
or less advanced modernity. In others, as in the case of
Bartok, a peak of modernity is followed by some relaxation,*
some return to a more 'human' style. In the case of
*
Compare the remark on Schutz's Cantiones Sacrae in Chapter 8.
Stravinsky there has been a kind of vacillation, almost from

work to work. In his opera The Rake's Progress, he made
a return, in structural method if not in harmony, to the
1 8thcentury, while latterly in the ballet Agon and the
choral work Canticum Sacrum, he has made use of Serial
Technique developed from Schonberg's Twelve-note
System. Stravinsky, whose influence on the younger genera-
tion has been not inconsiderable, has been described as a
master of styles rather than of style. He has never limited
himself to a single style, but varies his mode of expression
from work to work.
Possibly the most consistent line of development is found
in the work of Arnold Schonberg (1874 to 1952). Begin-
ning as a post-Wagnerian romantic, he moved farther and
farther towards intense use of discord and away from tradi-
tional tonality, ultimately arriving at a highly organised
system of atonality (absence of key) based on a scale of
twelve semitones, in which every note is of equal impor-
tance. The urge behind this development was a desire to
e
increase the emotionally expressive power of music, to ex-
press an excessive degree of emotional tension, at the same
time following his emotions down to their deep-seated sub-
conscious roots'.* The system involves a use of dissonance
which reaches the limit of intensity. Schonberg's pupil Alban
Berg (1885 to 1935) proved in his violin concerto, among
other works, the great expressive possibilities of his
master's
methods though he was by no means inflexible in his appli-
cation of them. Another pupil, Anton Webern (1883 to 1945)
has perhaps taken the purely cerebral aspect to its extreme,
in patterns of pure sound.
With this we must conclude our all-too-brief discussion
of 20th-century trends. The question remains: Whither are
they leading? It would seem that we are living in a period
of transition, comparable in a way to the I7th century.
* Mosco
Garner, artide in The Concerto, by Ralph Hill (Pelican Books)
.
A simple exposition of Schonberg's final technical methods

too com-
plex to be elucidated here will be found in Studies
in Counterpoint by
Ernst Kfenek (Schirmer).
23 s A CONCISE HISTORY OF MUSIC
As then, new ideas are in the air, experiment is widespread.
We cannot say which ideas or experiments may be really
fruitful or which may turn out to be valueless. All we
know is that music will not, and cannot, stand still.
RECORDS
Composer
Debussy
Ravel
Walton
Britten
Stravinsky
Poulenc
Bartok
Prokofieff
Schoenberg
INDEX
ABEL, 120, 151 Brandenburg Concertos, 127, 143
Abendmusiken, 115 Christmas Oratorio, 141
A cappetta, 65 Forty-eight Preludes and Fugues,
Adam de la Hale, 44, 52, 104
Little 'Organ Book, 14, 143
Addison, 162
Ad Qrganum Faciendum, 37 Marc, 15, 144, 175
Aeolian mode, 25 Mttwca/ Offering, 144, 176
Aesthetics, i?9 iSingr y* *<> the Lord, 15
Affections, 100, 119, 150 St. JWm

Passion, 144
Matthew Passion, 15, 19.
*.
Agazzari, 100
21, 58, 144, i5 iS7, 194
Agnus Dei, 34
Agon, 231 Balakireff, 215
Ballad opera, 140, 165
Atda, 204
Albeniz, 216 Ballade, 58, 65
Albinoni, 126 Ballata, 60
Albrechtsberger, 171 Ballet, 106, 107
Alcuin, 24 Ballett, 77^., 101
Algarotti, 163 Banister, 112
AUegri, 149 _.
Barber, 226
Allemande, 96, iziff. Barber of Baghdad, 205
AmarilK, 102 Bardi, 99, 100
Amati, 120 Bars, 42
Axnbros, 67 Bartok, 40j "8, 229
Ambrose, 26, 31. 33 47 Bass, 45w.
Anerio, no Bassam, 123
Basse danse, 91
Anglican chant, 82
Basso continuo, 102, 112, 127, i49
Anonymous MS., 43
Anthem, 82, 117 iSi. 154, 158
Antiphonary, 26 Bassoon, 90
Arcadelt, 76 Baumgarten, 198
Aria, 105 Bax, 225
Arne, 108, 216 Beethoven, 13, 16, 17, 148, 157,
170^., 180, 181, 186, 187,
212
Ars Antigua, 55
Ars Cantus Mensurabths, 43 Bagatelles, 187
Consecration of the House, 186
Ars Contrapuncti, 61
Coriolanus, 186
Ars Discantus, 61
Ars Fidelio, 175
Nova, ssff. t
Ars Novae Musicae, 57 Liederkreis, 190
Mass in D, 175
Aston, 92 *75
Ninth Symphony, 19,
Attaignant, giff., 97
Scherzo, 174 _.
Auber, 163 technical advances, ijzff.
Augmentation, 93 use of orchestra, 175
Auric, 229
Authentic mode, 24, 25 Belli, in
Bellini, 168
Ayre, 77^., 101
Bembo, 75
Benedetti, in
BACH, C. P. E., 144, 148
Benedictus, 34, 81
J. Christian, 151
Bennett, 216
J. Christoph, 129
Benvenuto Celhm, 205
J. Michael, 129
I4 16, J 7> Berg, 231
J. Sebastian, 13, 210
Berlioz, 106, 181, 182, 191, 205,
I9 39 69, 79 i3
1 19 J 22, I2 5 i Berners, 229
116, 117,
Biber, 125
138^., ISO, 208
Art of Fugue, 144* *?o Binary form, 92, 135
234 INDEX
Cavalleria Rusticana, 205
Bjnchois, 63
Bizet, 205 Cavalli, 105
Blake, 179 Cavazzoni, 93, 96, 97
Bliss,225 Cerone, 7271.
Bloch, 226 Cesti, 105
Blow, 83, 116 Cezanne, 223
Boethius, 24 Chabrier, 219
Boheme, La, 205 Chambonnieres, de, 122
Bohm, 131, 142 Chanson, 58, 65
Bologna, 123 Chapel Royal, 81
Jacopo da, 60 Charles II, 116
Bombard, 90 Charpentier, 219
Borodin, 215 Cherubini, 167
BoufEbns, 162 Child, 116
Bourgeois, 80 Chopin, 188
Bounce, 121 Chorale, 18, 81, 115, 130
Brahms, xpxjfc choral works, 196; fantasia, 131
cyclic methods, 192; songs, 195 fugue, 131
variations, 191 prelude, 18, 96, 130
Branle, 91 ChoraUs Constantinus, 49*1., 66
Brescia, 120 Cimarosa, 163, 2i4n.
Brevis, 43 Ciscia, da, 60
Britten, 225 Clarinet, 14971.
Britton, 112 Clemens non Papa, 95
Bruckner, 219 Classical style, 16
Bull, 95, 132 Clavecinists, 122
Bulow, von, 135, 203 Clavichord, 87, 133***
Buononcini, 140 Clavier, I33ft., 148
Burgundian school, 63^., 99 Coffey, 1 66
Burney, 93 Coleman, 112

Busnois, 65 Collegia Musica, 112
Busoni, 228 Colonna, no
Buxtehude, ax, 115, 123, 130, 131 Communion, 34
Byrd, 49, 74, 75, 77i 82, 83, 95, 96, 98 Concertato, iizff.
Byzantines, 24 Concertino, 125^., 144
Concerto, H3ff., 125, 135
~~
CAB&ON, 96, 97 grosso, iz$ff
Caccini, 99J^., 15271. Concerts Spirituels, 113
Cadence, 36, 70 Conditor alme siderum, 33
Caldara, 140 Conductus, 44, 46
Calvin, 15, 80 Contrapunctus a mente, 46
Calzabigi, 164 a penna, 46
Cambert, 107 Cooper, 120
Camerata, 99ff., 164 Copland, 226
Campion, 79, 95 Coranto, 96, 121
Canon, 63, 65, 67 Corelli, i23Jf., 143
Cantata, nijf. Cornelius, 205
Canticum Sacrum, 231 Cornett, 90
Cantilena, 44, 45, 58 Cornyshe, 68
Cantusfirmus, 45, 47, 49, 60, 63, 64, Corsi, 98
71, 73, 92, 96 Cosyn, 96
Canzona, 92, 95, 96, 123*1., 124 Cotton, 37
Couperin, 122
Capella, 10511. Courante, 121^.
Carisstmi, no, 112, 116 Cranmer, 80
CasteUone, 97
Cavalieri, 109 Cremona, 120
INDEX 235
Faur6, 220
Cristofori, 14811.
Faust, 205
Crusaders, The, igg
Fauxbourdon, 48, 64, 82
Cui, 215
Fayrfax, 68
..
Cyclic principle, 184

Ferrabosco, 120
Festa, 76
DANCES, 51, 90^.
20
Fetis,
Dandrieu, 122
Feux d'artifice, 223
Dargomijsky, 215
Fiedel, 53, 85
Davenant, 108
Field, i88w.
David, 205
Final, 25
Davy, 68
Fischer, 132
Debussy, 218, 22zff.
FitzzoiWam Virginal Book, 96
De Ignoto Cantu, 28
Flat, 30
Delibes, 219
Florence, 99
Delius, 218, 224
De Musica Mensurabths, 43 Flute, 136
Des Pres, 67, W Flying Dutchman, 200, 201
Folksong, 22
.
De Speculatione Musicae, 43
Diabolus in musica, 30 Fontana, 124
Force of Destiny, 204
Dialogues, 109
Forster, 96
Diaphony, 35
Die Feen, 200 Franck, 208, 212, 219
Franco of Cologne, 43, 46
d'Indy, 220
Frederick the Great, 137, 144
Discantus Positio Vulgaris, 41, 46
Freischute, 199
Discantus supra tibrum, 46
Frescobaldi, i27Jf.
Discord, tfff., 63, 102
Dittersdorf, 151 Froberger, 122, 128
Frottola, 75
Divertimento, 149, *54
Divisions on a ground, 121 Fugue, 69, 119, I7
Dodecachordon, 25
Don GABRIELI, ANDREA, 73, 97, "3,
Carlos, 204
180
Donizetti, 168
Giovanni, 73, 97t "3, 4,
Dorian mode, 24
127, 1 80
Dowland, 79, 95 , Galant style, i47i *5i *53, * 81
Drink to me only, 26
32, 99 Galilei, 98, 102
Dufay, 63^., 69, 7i,
Galliard, 91, 121
Dukas, 219
Galuppi, 151, 214^.
Dunstable, 60^., 67, 69, 82, 91
Garland, 43, 6l
Duparc, 220
Garsi, 95, 98
Duplum, 46
Gasparim, 126
Durey, 229 Gastoldi, 78*.
Durum, 30 Gaultier, 95
Dvofak, 208, 211, 216
Gavotte, 121
Gebrauchsmustk, 178, 229
Ecclesiae MiKtantis, 64
Geminiani, 127
Edwards, 77 e Genevan 80
psalter,
Eus Feste Burg, 81
Genoveva, 199
gar, t
Gestes, 51
Error terttt soni, 61
Gesuao, in, 208
Gesualdo,
Estampie, 51, 85 Gibbons, 79, 82, 9$
Esterhazy, 18, 15*
Gigue, 121, 124
Euryanthe, 199 Gilbert, 216
Evangelist, zion. Giraldus Cambrensis, 44-
Glareanus, 25
FALLA, DE, 216 Glazounov, 219
Fdstaffy 204
ia8 Glinka, 214, 215
Fancy, 93, Gloria, 34
Fantasia, 93, 128
236 INDEX
Gluck, 1 06, i63ff., 167, 199 Impressionism, 2,22$.
Goethe, 179 Intermezzi, 161ff.
Gombert, 74 Intrpit, 34
Goudixnel, 80 Ionian mode, 25
Gounod, 205 Ireland, 225
Graduate Romanum, 34 Isaac, 49., 66, 69, 81, 93
Granados, 216
JACCHINI, 126
Graun, 137
Jacob of Liege, 47, 57
Graupner, 147
Great stave, 2971. Jahn, 199
Greeks, 22jf., 27, 30 Jannequin, 80, 98
Jenkins, 120
Gregorian chant, 26 feu de Robin et Marion, 52
Gregory the Great, 26, 31
Gretry, 163, 198
[ohn of Salisbury, 47
Grieg, 216
[ohnson, Dr., 160
Grimm, 162
Guarneri, 120 "ommelli, 164
Guido d'Arezzo, 28, 36, 37, 43, 59 tongleurs, 22, 51, 52
fosquin des Pres, 67, 69, 74
Guilmant, 97 " '
?, la, 167
HABA, 227 Kapelle, 10572., 113

Hale'vy, 205 Kapellmeister, 14, iO5.
Handel, 13, 108, us, 115, "7, Keiser, 108, 139
i3&ff., 147, 150, 151, 180
.
KerU, 128
Chandos ai 140 Key, 22
Messiah, 19, 141 Kodaly, 218
operas, 140; oratorios, 141 Konzertmeister, 14
Royal Academy of Music, 140 Kuhnau, 135
Hansel and Gretel, 205
Kyrie Eleison, 34, 82
Hans Helling, 199
Hans Sachs, 54 LAI, 58, 62
Harmony, 32 Lalla Rookh, 205
Harpsichord, 87, 103, 142, 14871. Landini, 60, 63, 75
Harris, 226 Laniere, 112
Hasse, 137, 153, 164 L'apres-midi d'un Faune, 224
Haydn, 18, 19, 20, 151^., 170, 171; Lassus, 73, 76, 99, 100
oratorios, 155; quartets, 154; Loudest, 109
symphonies, 153 Laudi, 109
Heinrich von Meissen, 54 Lawes, Henry, 108, 1x2
Herz, 187 William, 112, 120
Killer, 166 Leading theme, 200, 205, 210
Hindemith, 229 Le Franc, 62
Historicus, no Legrenzi, 106
Hocket, 46 Leit motif, 200, 205
Le Jeune, 80
Hoist, 175, 218 Leoncavallo, 205
Homophony, 147 L^onin, 49
Honegger, 229 Les Six, 229
Uhomme arme, 64, 71
Lichnowsky, 171
Huxnfrey, 112, 116 Liebesverbot, Das, 200
Humperdinck, 198, 204 Lied, 189^.
Hunten, 187 Liszt, 16, 39, 95, 98, 179., 181, 182,
187, 190, 196, 203; piano sonata,
Idee fixe, 182 1 86, 21 1; oratorios, 196; songs,
Illustrativemusic, 98, 135, 182 190; symphonies, 185
Imitation, 59, 63, 66 LocateUi, 127, 147
point of, 69 Locke, 108
INDEX 237
LoeiUet, 136 Meyerbeer, 167, 200

Loewe, 189 Micrologus, 28, 36
Lohengrin, 201 Mignon, 205
Milan, 94
Loms'xiV, 107, 116,137 Milhaud, 229
Milton, 21, 122
Ludwig II, 200
Lulli, 107ff; 161
Minima, 43
Lute, 86, 94 Minnesingers, 53
Lutenists, 93^., 130 Minstrels, 22
Luther, 18, 80 Minuet, 121
Luzzaschi, in
Missa parodia, 72
sine nomine, 72
Lydian mode, 24
Mixolydian mode, 24
MACE, 120 Mode, 56
Machaut, 58, 62, 99, 184*. Modernism, 17
Mackenzie, 217 Modes, &., 103, 132
Madame Butterfly, 205 rhythmic, 41
Madriale, 5971. Molinaro, 94, "3
Madrigal, 59, 75^-, 99, xox, m. 12 Monet, 222
Maestro di capetta, 94, 105 Monody, 102
Maeterlinck, 224 Monsigny, 163
Mont* Albano, 149
Magadizing, 30
Magnificat, 82
Monte, de, 76
Monteverdi, 39, 101, 105, in, 114
Magnus Liber Orgam, 49
Morales, 74, 216
Mahler, 219
Mailly, 107
Morley, 79
Mallarme, 222 Motet, 44, 58, 63, 69, 73, 82, 93, "5
Mandriale, sgn.
Motto theme, 72, 182, 210
Mannheim, 151 Mouton, 67
Mozart, Leopold, 155
Marcello, 127, 162
\V. A., 13, 16, 32, 134, xsx, *S5J(r-i
Marenzio, 77 *75,
166, 168, 171, X 72 *73
Marschner, 199
180, 181, 182, 185, 188, 199
Martini, 4.3 concertos, 157
Don Giovanni, 175
Masked Ball, The, 204 21
Jupiter Symphony,
Masque, 108
$8 operas, 166
Mass, 22, 33, 34*
Muffat, 122
Massenet, 219
Mastersingers of Nuremberg, 54, 167,
Mundy, 98
202 Muris, de, 57 .
Musica EncMriadts, 35, *79

Maxima, 43
ficta, 61, 103, 209
Mazarin, 107
mensurabilis, 41
Mazzocchi, no
mensurata, 117
Measurable music, 32, 41
parlante, 102
Mehul, 165
reservata, 73, 100
Meistersingers, 54
Transalpina, 77
Mendelssohn, 180, 184, 187, Fs Booke, 96
216
chamber music, 186
Hebrides Overture, 186
NARRATOR, no
Narvaez, 94 _
oratorios, 195 ,
Nationalism, 2i3ff-
Merry Wives of Windsor, 205 Natural, 30.
Merula, 123 Neo-classicism, 228
Merulo, 97
Neri, M., 124, 5
Messager, 219 . St. Philip, 109 ,
Messe de Tourrm t 58
Netherlands school, 65 JJ-, 99
Metastasio, 164
INDEX
Neumeister, 115 Parsifal, 53, 202
Neumes, 27 Passacaglia, 143
New Music, 102 Passamezzo, 95
Nicolai, 205 Passion music, 68, 75, in
Niedt, 86. Patronage, 18
Nielsen, 216 Pavane, 91, 121
Nin, 216 Pedrell, 216
Notation, 26^., 43 Peerson, 98
Novak, 216 Pelleas et Melisande, 224
Nunc Dimittis, 82 Pergolesi, 161
Nuove Musiche, 102 Pen, 99, 104
Perotin, 49, 50, 99
Oberon, 198
Perrin, 107
, King of the Fairies, 198
Petrus de Cruce, 43, 49, 50
Oboe, 90 Philidor, 163
da caccia, 150
Phonascus, 45, 52, 58
Obrecht, 65, 67, 92
O Phrygian mode, 24
Core, tou tt7* despatch me, 78
Piano, 14872.
Occursus, 36
Piccinni, 165
Odes, 117
Plagal mode, 24
Odington, 43, 44, 46, 55, 60 in
Plainsong, 31, 45, 55,
Offertory, 34 Point of perfection, 56
Offices, church, 22, 8z
Polonaise, 91
Okeghem, 65
Polyphony, 16, 99, 101, 131, 147
Opera, ggff., itoff., ig&ff.
choral, 65
buffa, i6iff., 198, 204
Polytextuality, 46, 58**.
cormque, 52, 163, 169, 198
Polytonality, 229
houses, 105
Pope, Alexander, 179
seria, ifaff.
Poulenc, 229
Oratorio, 109
Power, 62
Ordinary of the Mass, 34
Prelude, 96, 121
Ordres, 122 and fugue, 131
Organ, 32, 85, 96 Prima prattica, zoi
hymns, 96
Programme music, 98, 182
Organator, 4971.
Organista, 4971.
Prokofieff, 226, 229
Prolation, 56
Organum, 35ff., 44, 46
Proper of the Mass, 34
Ptolemy, 24
Otger, 35
Purcell, 39, 61, 79, 83, 109, 116, 117,
Othello, 204
120, 122, 124, 216
Overture, 106, 107, 117, 140?!., 144, Dido and Aeneas, 109
148, 199
Puritans, ioSn., 116
concert, 186
PACHELBKL, 21, 129, 131, 142

Paganini, 187
-,
Paglfacci, 205
,136
Paisiellp, 214
Palestrma, 21, 63, 69, 71. 73. 77, 99
107
Mtssa Papae Marcelh, 71 RACHMANINOFF, 219
Missa Regina Coett, 71 Raguenet, 162
O Bone jesu, 70 Rake's Progress, The, 231
Stabat Mater, 70 Rameau, 20, 145, 161
Tu es PetniSf 70 Ravel, 220, 224
Vern Sponsa Christ** 73 Recitative, 102, 115
Papal bull, 19, 47, 58 Recitative accompagnato, 106
Pareja, 132 secco, 106
Parry, 217 "~~
stromentatot 106
Parthenia, 95 Recorders, 87
INDEX 239
Schweitzer, 115
Redford, 96
Reformation, 80 Scriabin, 207
Seconda prattica, 101
Reichardt, 137. 189, 190
Semibrevis, 43
Reinken, 122, 129, 142
Serial Technique, 231
Restoration style, 116
Service (reformed),
Rhinegold, The, 202
Sojff.
Ricercare, 93, 9 6 JI 9 J 28 Sharp, 30

sopra un soggetto, 128
Shawm, 90
Richard I, & Shirley, 108
Shostakovich, 226
Richter, 180
Sibelius, 20, 212, 218
Rienxi, 200
Sicilian Vespers, 204
Rigoletto, 203
Siegfried Idyll, 204
Rimsky-Korsakov, 211, 215
Silbermann, 148
Ring, The, 202
Simone Boccanegra, 204
Rinuccini, 99, 104
Sinfonia avanti Vopera, 106, 149
Ripieni, 125
Ritomello form, i20. Singspiel, 165, 198
Robertsbridge Codex, 85
Sitwell,229
Romanticism, 16, i78jf. Smetana, 216
Solmisation, 28
Rondeau, rondel, 44 5 5
Sonata, 97, 123
Rondo, 51, 122 a tre, 123
Ropartz, 220 da camera, 123
Rore, da, 73. 77
da ckiesa, 123
Rossini, 168
form, 92, 135
Rotundum, 30
Round, 44 f Songs, i88jy.
Rousseau, 162 Speculum Musicae, 47, 57
Rue, de la, 67 Spem in alium, 70
Spinet, 87
SACKBUT, 90 Spohr, 199
Sacre du Printemps, Le, 230 Spontini, 167
Stamitz, 151
Sacre Rappresentastioni, 109
Stanford, 217
Saint-Saens, 205
Salomon, 153
Sternhold and Hopkins, 82
Saltarello,05
Stilo antico, 101
Sammartini, 151, 154
moderno, 101
Sampson, 68 102
Samson and Delilah, 205 rappresentativo,
Stradella, 106
Sanctus, 34. 7*
Stradivari, 120
Sarabande, 121, 123
Stravinsky, 228, 230
Sartorio, 106
Strauss, J., 217
Scale, 22ff.
no, 112, 127, 140 R., 80,98, 166
Scarlatti, A., 106,
String quartet, 154
D., 95, 134. 147. 148,150
Strozzi, 106
Scheidemann, 129
Suite, 91, 121^., 14*
Scheldt, 114, "9 *3*
Sullivan, 216
Schein, 114, 129
Sumer is icumen tn, 44. 59 &o
Schiller, i?9
Sweelinck, 129
Schlegel, 179
t
2 I5I
Symphonetes, 45, 5 > 5
Schlick, 86, 96
219
SchSnberg, 40, 231
Symphonia sacra, 115
Schubert, 32, 180, 184, 186; quartets,
Symphonic poem, 98*
186; songs, 189; symphonies, r" 1
184; Wanderer Fantaste, 184

Symphony, 106,
Schumann, i7,97 *79 l8 5J chamber Sympson, 121
music, 186; songs, 190
TABLA.TUBB, 86
Schutz, 20, 108, in, 114 TaiUeferre, 229
Schutz, Sympkoniae Sacrae, 114
240
INDEX
Victoria, 63, 69, 7. 74* 77 98, 216
Tallis, 70, 74 82
Vielle, S3, 85, 86
Tannhauser, 53, 201
Vie"ville, 162
Tartini, 154, 158
Viola da gamba, 87, 94, 120
Te Deum, 81
Telemann, 14?. 28 Violin, 87, H9
Violoncello, 119, 126
Temperament, 132 o
Viols, 86,87, "9>
Tenor, 45, 64
Virginals, 87
Ternary form, 92, 106
Virtuosity, 181, 187
Thalberg, 187
Vitali, 123, 124
Theile, 108
Vitry, de, 56^., 61
Theorbo, 86, 94
Vivaldi, 2on., 126, 137, 142, 143, 147
Thibaut, 52
Volkslied, 195
Thomas, 205
Vox organatis, 35
Thompson, 226
principaUs, 35
Thorough bass, 102
Time, 56
WAELRANT, 76
signatures, 42, 56
Tinctoris, 62, 65 Wagenseil, 151
Wagner, 16, 53 164, 179. I99J0M
Toccata, 97, 127, 131
208, 219, 223, 225, 227
Tonality, 103, 227 Faust Overture, 186, 204
Tonic, 26
leading themes, 201
Torelli, 125, 126 202
Parsifal, 53,
Tosca, 205
Traviata, La, 203 prose works, 201
role of orchestra, 201
Trio sonata, 123, 148
Siegfried Idyll, 204
Triple time, 41, 55 Tristan and Isolda, 53, 202
Triplum, 46.
Tristan and Isolda, 53, 202 Walton, 20, 225
Weber, 16, 179, 187, 198
Trojans, The, 205
Troubadours, 5 iff., 55. 59 Euryanthe, 198
Freischutz, 198
Trouveres, 44, s*ff*> 55
Oberon, 198
Trwatore, II, 203
Tschaikovsky, 210, 212, 219 Constanze, 156
Tunder, 115 Webern, 231
Tunsted, 57 Weelkes, 78, 79
Turandot, 205 Werckmeister, 132
Turina, 216 Wesley, S., 216
Turkish opera, 198 S. S., 216
Whole-tone scale, 223
Tye, 74 82
Whyte, 74
USPER, 125 Widor, 97
VALDERRANO, 94 Wieck, 190
Valentini, 127 Wilbye, 79
Valkyrie, The, 202 Willaert, 67, 73 76, 93
Vampire, The, 199 Williams, Vaughan, 175, 218
Variations, 90, 93, 176, 191 'Winchester Troper*, 37
Vaughan Williams, 175, 218 Wolf, 190
Vecchi, 104 Wolfram von Eschenbach, 53
Venice, 105 Wranitzky, 198
St. Mark's, 97, 113
Venite, 81 YONGE, 77
Veracini, 148 You Gentlemen of England, 26
Verdelot, 76
Verdi, 203 ZACHAU, 115, 139
Verlaine, 222 Zarlino, 132
Versets, 97 Zelter, 189, 190
Vexilla Regis, 33 Ziani, 106
Viadana, 113 Zumsteeg, 188

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109115

WILLIAM LOVELOCK, D.Mus.

FREDERICK UNGAR PUBLISHING CO.

Printed in Great Britain by

Suggestions for Study 9

1 On the Study of Musical History 13

2 The Beginnings of Western European Music 22

3 The Early Development of Counterpoint 35

4 Early Secular Music 52

5 The 'New Art' and Its Development 55

6 Vocal Music in the Sixteenth Century 69

7 The Rise of Instrumental Music 85

8 Vocal Music in the Seventeenth Century 99

9 Instrumental Music in the Seventeenth Century 119

10 The Age of Bach and Handel 134

1 1 The Rise of Classicism 147

12 Developments in Opera 160

14 The Romantics and Their Music 178

15 Romantic Opera 198

1 6 Late Romantics and Nationalists 207

17 Impressionism and the Contemporary Scene 222

writing this book I have tried to trace not only how

often some divergence of opinion as to the dates of their

history of music, should be read in conjunction with

pilations as Scholes Oxford Companion

condensed information given in the chapters which follow.

formances, essential for anything like a full understand-

ing. (It may be pointed out to the prospective examination

up to Bach, a brief but useful book, which every

List /. General Outlines

Einstein: A Short History of Music (Cassell).

Finney: History of Music (Harrap).

Parry: The Art of Music (Kegan Paul).

List 2. For More Detailed and Comprehensive Study

The Oxford History of Music (Oxford University Press).

Lang: Music in Western Civilisation (Norton).

The writings of Sir Donald ToveyEssays and Lectures

Those who wish to delve into the processes of con-

Abraham: This Modern Stu/ (Citadel Press).

The lives of most of the great composers, with considera-

For the earlier periods the H.M.V. History of Music in

WE object and the value of the study of the history of

intelligently and gain enjoyment, in the highest sense, from

mother who remarked, when watching a platoon on the

for the court music which, in this instance, was of a secular

Returning now to the question of the study of musical

outline, thegrowth of musical styles.

genitors of what developed into the 'classical' style, and

to this expression. It is applied particularly to music of

by the fashion of the moment. This is not to imply that

a livery like any other employee), and by his great personal

Experiment may at times have

been wild at one point it reached such a pitch that the

graphs. Music has not 'progressed in the sense that it has

phonies of Sibelius, Vaughan Williams and Walton, but

Fransois-Joseph F6tis (1784 to 1871), who writes: 'One of

except in sound. Which brings us, full circle, back to the

the present day are to be traced. Folk-song is the oldest

set order of tones and semitones is maintained, the mode