Hello and welcome to Early Music Sources.com. My name is Elam Rotem
and today we'll analyse together a beautiful madrigal by Cipriano de Rore: Amor, ben mi credevo.
In the Early Music Sources Youtube series
we have often discussed the elements that underpin early musical composition,
such as modes, cadences, solmization, durum and molle,
and the way in which these elements were described in earlier times.
In this episode we will use these tools in order to analyze one little gem by Cipriano de Rore.
If you haven't watched these former episodes, you might want to check them out.
The aim of this episode is to try and understand why Rore composed the way he did,
based on the assumption that if we better understand why he did it, and exactly what he did,
it might help us when performing the piece.
Before we can start with the analysis, we should first agree on what exactly it is that we are analyzing;
what the sources of the piece are and how we have decided
to present them for the purpose of our analysis.
The madrigal Amor ben mi credevo is found
in the first book of four part madrigals by Rore, published in 1550.
See the footnote for the surviving editions, copies and online digital reproductions.
As you know, in the 16th century scores were generally not in use and were rarely printed.
Music was published in separate partbooks, one book for each part.
However, as Rore's compositions were highly regarded,
in 1577 a score of his four part madrigals was published.
It is one of the first and rare cases from that period of score printing.
It was made to allow instrumentalists play the pieces, as well as for the study of counterpoint.
If you lived at that time and wanted to analyze one of these pieces, this print was quite a privilege,
as otherwise you would have to make your own score out of the separate part books.
However, this rare and expensive score lacks a very crucial element - the text of the madrigals.
As you will see later in the episode, most of Rore's compositional decisions are motivated by the text.
So for our purpose, and for your convenience, we will use a modern score,
with the text and with our favorite clefs, and have the originals on the side only for reference.
The first thing that Rore did, before even writing the first note of the madrigal,
was to examine the poem. Let's have a look at it.
We'll now hear the poem recited by Giovanna Baviera in its original Italian,
which you can follow in the English translation:
Amor (cupid), I truly believed that you bound my lady and me with the very same rope,
so that the desire would be one and the ardor immortal.
but alas, I see her free and liberated from these amorous knots,
and surrounded by a thousand pleasures,
while I live more tied and captive than ever,
deprived of any pleasure, full of torments,
I stay alive, yet my life is extinguished.
Rore decided to divide this text into three parts,
we know this thanks to the places he put substantial cadences in the music, as you will soon see.
In the first part we are introduced to the gloomy situation where the speaker is talking to Amor (or cupid),
speaking of what he believed to be the truth about the lady he loves.
In the second part we hear about the lady; how she is free from the bonds of love.
And in the third, the speaker speaks of himself, and how miserable he is.
Keep this structure in mind when we look at the music.
Now that we know the text, we can go on and endeavor to understand
why Rore composed the things the way he did.
As a first step, let's try to recognize the mode in which the piece is composed.
To determine the mode of the piece, we'll first check its beginning and ending:
it starts with each of the voices having E as their first note,
and ends rather weirdly, but still with E in the lowest voice.
Based on this alone, at this point we can be quite sure that we are dealing with some mi mode,
either phrygian, the third mode, or hypophrygian, the fourth mode.
If we check the ranges of the voices, one of the markers of modes according to the sources,
we find a rather perfect example of the ranges of the third mode.
The next thing would be to check the degrees upon which substantial cadences take place.
Later on we'll get into the details of the cadences,
but for now it is sufficient to show that at the end of the first part there is a cadence on A,
and at the end of the second part there is a cadence on C.
The end, as we said, is rather unusual, but closes on E.
According to most sources, cadences on E, A and C are used in pieces that are in the fourth mode,
and not on the third mode.
At this point one must be reminded of the inconsistency
in regard to modes as displayed in the sources.
And this is the case even before we get into the descriptions of the affects of each mode,
where things get even more subjective, and more contradictory.
Nevertheless however, in many descriptions the fourth mode is described as appropriate
for amourous, mournful and sad subjects, just like the poem of this madrigal.
We can only imagine what Rore might have said
if we had asked him in which mode he had written this madrigal and why.
For now, we will just stick with what we know:
the piece is in some mi mode, and, based on the text,
Rore believed it to be appropriate for sad and amourous subjects.
Now that we examined the text and the mode,
we can finally delve into the actual music.
Feel free to pause the video for a minute and bring a big cup of coffee - you might need it.
"Amor, I have truly believed that you bound my lady and me with the very same rope,
"so that the desire would be one and the ardor immortal."
For the first line of the text, the voices enter in an imitative manner one after the other.
The second line however, is presented using pairs of voices:
first the canto and basso, and then the alto and tenor.
On the word "legati", tied, there are ligature, suspensions.
And on the word "laccio", rope, there are little circular melismas, emulating its form.
As you see, word painting can sometimes be rather literal.
At this point there is also a little cadence on C, but it is a rather weak one:
it is only a tenor cadence (as opposed to an authentic one),
it is short, it is on a weak beat, and the little "laccio" in the tenor
makes sure the music goes on, that it does not stop.
The fact that the cadence is weak corresponds with the poet's intentions,
as we are in the middle of a text line,
and Rore didn't allow disruption of the musical flow in such situations.
After climactic high notes in the canto and alto on the word "ardor",
a stronger cadence arrives.
Although the bass an d tenor disappear on the finalis
it is nevertheless a rather strong cadence:
it is authentic, it is long, and it is on a strong beat.
Although also here there is a little ornamental "tail" in the alto,
the longer rests in each of the voices before the next line starts
help in defining this moment as an ending of a section.
By the way, the finalis of the canto part is a high e'' in all the sources
and not a' as written here.
I consider it to be extremely unusual and unlikely
that on the unaccented last note Rore would jump to the highest note of the range
and create something that seem like parallels fifths.
Therefore I believe it to be a mistake and corrected it to a'.
I might be wrong of course, and you might choose to perform the original high e'.
Before everything is forgotten, let's listen to a performance of it up to this point.
Now we are entering the next part:
"But alas, I see her free and liberated from these amorous knots,
"and surrounded by a thousand pleasures."
On the words "lasso", alas, Rore used suspensions.
This was a common treatment for this word, and it remained such until the 17th century.
In this case, Rore also play on the fact that the word "lasso"
is similar to the solmization syllables "la" "sol".
Anyway, The last one is the most severe of them all as it includes a major sixth
- the harshest of all consonant intervals in Renaissance terms.
The degree of harshness is intensified when the canto touches the f-sharp
and at the same time there is a major sixth between the basso and alto.
In this case, Rore doesn't interpret a certain word,
there is nothing especially harsh in the word "libera", free,
he evokes instead the harsh situation of the speaker.
After presenting a playful syncopation in all the voices
for the words "mille piacer", thousand pleasures,
there are three cantizans figures one after the other:
first in the canto, then in the tenor, and then once again in the canto.
The first two times the other voices do not "cooperate" with this cantizans figure
and create instead rather harsh deceptive cadences to F.
Stepwise movement between two major harmonies, in this case G major to F major,
was considered to be harsh.
The second time it is even harsher, as on the penultimate step there is also a major sixth,
creating a medieval sounding progression.
Such "ancient" sounding progressions were considered harsh and crude in that period,
and were used only when such harsh affects were sought after.
On the last cantizans figure, finally, all the parts "comply"
and a strong cadence to C is created.
Also here, as in other cadences, there is one voice that ornaments and leads us forward.
Let's listen to this second part of the madrigal.
Now, in this last part, the speaker tells us how he feels about the situation:
"And I, live more tied and captive than ever,
"deprived of any pleasure, full of torments,
"I stay alive, yet my life is extinguished."
As in the transition between the first and second parts,
also here there are pauses in each of the parts.
In order to emphasize the fact that now we are talking about
the lonely lover, however, the tenor starts alone: "ed io", "and I".
Then, the other voices join him and almost sing together.
In fact, the voices are actually together only very shortly;
usually there is always some voice that does not move with the other voices.
For Rore, having all the voices sing a passage together,
note after note with the same text syllables is a very strong effect,
one that should be only be used rarely.
Indeed, for Rore, this kind of movement which is almost together, is already very strong.
And for us, the listeners, this sudden slow and clear declamation of the text
draws our attention to what is about to come.
Before we can discuss the next bit,
we have to talk shortly about a special notation mean Rore is using here - hemiolia maggiore.
This phenomenon is described in many sources and is mostly interpreted
by performing three blackened semibreves in the time of two normal ones;
as big triplets if you like.
When interpreted in this way, the outcome is rather messy and foreign to the music of Rore.
Have a listen to the computer playing this interpretation.
In other four part madrigals where hemiolia maggiore is used,
it is used in all the voices at the same time,
and the effect of two simultaneously sounding meters does not occur.
While it is definitely possible that Rore meant this confusing effect,
and in this way wanted to express the suffocating feeling of "legato e preso", tied and captive,
there is yet another possible interpretation.
In some sources it says that
when such hemiolia is not applied to all of the voices at the same time,
the notes with the hemiolia should be "squared" into the meter of the piece.
It could very well be that this is what Rore intended,
and that his singers knew exactly how to do it.
This solution does not take anything from the word painting,
as ligatures are still used with the word "legato", tied.
This is the solution I prefer.
Check the footnote for more information about this phenomenon.
Now we arrive at the most fascinating point in the madrigal
which exhibits two extremely peculiar progressions:
first on the text "privo d'ogni piacer", deprived of any pleasure,
and immediately after on "pien di tormento", full of torments.
On the word "piacer" there seem to be a cadence:
there are bassizans, tenorizans, and cantizans.
But because of the way it is composed,
there is no possibility of adding a ficta to the cantizans
and making this progression truly a cadence
This quasi cadence without a leading tone is very unsettling,
but quite fitting to the words: "deprived of any pleasure".
Its continuation is even more unsettling:
on the words "full of torments", as there are some very harsh suspensions.
Their harshness is, if you will, doubled
because they appear both in the canto and alto, sixth and fourth
The first time it even exhibits a major sixth, which is very harsh.
But the thing that really "stings" our ears
is the tenor voice that clashes with the other voices.
Normally, if there is a suspension of a sixth, it is in place of a fifth,
so the fifth is not taken by another voice.
Or if the suspension is a fourth, it's in place of a third,
and then the third will not be taken by another voice.
But in this case, during the suspension of the sixth and the fourth, the tenor sings a fifth.
This is probably the harshest note it can assume on that moment.
The next note is as bad,
as the tenor is on the third while the alto is still sustaining its fourth.
Rore demonstrated how many "torments" he can express with only four voices,
but we are not quite finished.
What happens on the next bar is almost bizarre:
If we only look at the bass, it seems as if it is making an authentic cadence to E.
However, an authentic cadence to E is not really a possibility in the 16th century.
This would necessitate the tenorizans to be altered from f to f-sharp,
as well as a d-sharp in the cantizans.
Two things that are not at all part of the standard musical vocabulary of that period.
In another episode we showed that even in Monteverdi's times, half a century later,
he used authentic cadences to E only twice in his Orfeo,
and then only with very good reasons at extremely harsh moments.
But going back to Rore,
in his canto part he touches the f-sharp, the note that might have been a tenorizans,
but then, together with the tenor part,
runs away and disappears into nothing on the next strong beat.
The alto, which could have been theoretically a cantizans if altered to d-sharp,
leaps down a fifth, making it impossible for it to form a cantizans close.
The listener is left feeling disappointed and confused,
thereby entering into the depressing mood of the last line of the poem:
"I stay alive yet my life is extinguished".
Here Rore uses a typical phrygian melodic line: mi fa mi la sol fa mi.
While normally lines end and relax on strong beats,
this line always finishes abruptly on a weak beat,
giving expression to the idea that something has been extinguished.
Then, and as was common in this period,
there is an exact musical repetition of the last lines of the text.
In this case it is welcome, as it will allow us a to listen again
to the sequence of unusual and interesting progressions.
Now we only have to discuss the very end of the piece.
Very often, the final progression of pieces in phrygian modes
do not display cadences according to our definitions,
and conclude only with a plagal progression where the lowest voice moves from A to E.
This is also what happens here,
but it all goes very quickly and abruptly, and the bass and tenor end alone.
Rore took the idea of life that is spento, spent or extinguished, to an extreme.
It leaves the listener without the resolution he or she seeks,
just like the speaker in the poem.
Let's listen to this last part of the madrigal
Assuming that you are not asleep by now, thanks for watching,
I hope you enjoyed it!
Many thanks for my colleagues at Profeti della Quinta for their singing
and for Giovanna Baviera for her recitation.
Don't forget to check the special page on our website
with all the footnotes and other extra information.
Feel free to comments, share, and like. See you next time at Early Music Sources.com!
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