Program Notes


    Luca Marenzio was famous in far-off England as well as in his native
Italy as a skilled and prolific composer of madrigals.  He also wrote
estimable sacred music, of which "Hodie, Christus natus est" is a fine example.
It is a bright triumphal piece in the then "modern" Ionian mode (exactly
equivalent here with C major).  Designated "in festo Nativitatis Domini", 
and with all four voices in the upper end of their ranges, it moves with
unflagging energy: the soaring melismas at "canunt Angeli", the fanfares
at "exultant justi", and the thankful alleluias and reiterated "noe"s at
the conclusion all express the joy of Christmas.

    Thomas Tallis' "O nata lux" is, in rhythm at least, a galliard, albeit
a very slow and raptly mysterious one.  Like the previous piece, it is also
in a "modern" mode, the Aeolian, which corresponds today to g minor.  It
moves, hymn-like, in syllabically distinct block chords, revealing a 
carefully devised harmonic plan.  Of its composer more will be said in
a subsequent section.

    Jean Mouton was a younger contemporary of Josquin Desprez.  "Quaeramus
cum pastoribus" became a favorite among Christmas motets during the middle
of the 16th century; both Morales and Willaert wrote masses based upon it,
and the Spanish organist Cabezon composed a long fantasia as well.  The 
text, through naive eyes, tells of the miracle of the Nativity, but in the
final phrase touches upon sorrows to come.  The "noe"s are heard as a refrain
in the middle and at the end of each of the two sections; those at the end
build swiftly to a ringing conclusion.  In the first section, while duets in 
question and answer form recall a technique beloved of Josquin, their 
sweetness is Mouton's own--by the testimony of his contemporaries a signal
characteristic of his musical personality.

    Thomas Tallis was born in 1505 in Kent and died some eighty years later
in Greenwich.  His long career bridged the widely dissimilar musical worlds
of Taverner, who died in 1545, and Byrd, Tallis' friend and colleague, who
was born in 1543.  Tallis was organist at Waltham Abbey, and despite his
Catholic adherence, was made a member of the Chapel Royal in 1540 after the
dissolution of the abbeys.  Much of the little we know of his personal life
comes from verses on his gravestone, which along with the expected praise,
record his service under four sovereigns; a happy though childless marriage
of 33 years, and conclude with the statement, "As he did live, so also did
he die/In mild and quiet sort (O! Happy Man)".  It is interesting that so
much vigorous and powerful music should have come from this gentle man.

    The "Missa sine titulo ad quatuor voces inequales" is one of only three
settings by him of the ordinary of the mass, and survives in a single manuscript
copy in the British Museum.  It is considered an early work, and belongs to
a specifically English genre known as the "plain song" mass, a term which
may seem misleading: the reference is not to plainchant, which in contrast
to most period masses plays no part in this work's melodic structure, but to 
the style of composition, earlier based on the rather elementary technique of
"faburden", but by Tallis' time signifying only a simple and concise manner
of writing.

    Some musicologists, like Fellows and Reese, have termed this mass, somewhat
dismissively, as "chordal", and certainly there is a tendency toward homophonic
declaration.  The greater proportion of the work, however, is given over to
a rather terse and compact polyphonic style, in which points of imitation are
handled informally, and there are some passages in free polyphony.  It is the 
versatile and fluid use of these resources, as well as the composer's evidently
personal approach, that give the work its unusual immediacy and directness.

    We have prepared our own edition of the mass for these performances.  The
original was scored for low (men's) voices, requiring an upward transposition
to make it accessible to a mixed choir.  Also, only the Gloria, Credo, Sanctus,
and Agnus Dei were set polyphonically; we provide a Kyrie from appropriate
plainchant.  In contending with the problem of barring the new score according
to the actual underlying rhythms, the composer's freedom with meter was 
revealed in a constant irregular alternation of ternary and duple meters--
restless in appearance on the page, but making sense to the ear.

    A final instance of the composer's informality accompanies his choice
of the unusual Hypolydian mode, which he treats idiosyncratically and from
which he takes many excursions.  One has the impression, particularly in
view of a kind of "head motif" at the inception of each of the four polyphonic
movements, that Tallis was loosely influenced by some preexisting piece, 
perhaps a humble song or folk tune he chose not to name.

    In constrast to the smaller scale and relative intimacy of the mass, Tallis'
"Magnificat" for five voices is a broad and expansive work, glowing with the
clarity and generosity of the Myxolydian mode, which is G major without a 
mandatory f#, except by designation of the composer, or through the dictates
of "musica ficta".  In fact, it is by virtue of the interplay of f and f#,
heard simultaneously very briefly in three places, that the merest--but
wonderful--suggestion of a kind of exalted "carelessness" is introduced.
In musical terms this is called a "false" or "cross" relation, and can also
be heard in the penultimate chord of "O nata lux".  Writing some 75 years
ago, the British musicologist Donald Francis Tovey, despite (or perhaps
because of) his championship of Renaissance music, decried this "perverse 
and altogether noxious habit" in English music of this period.  Our ears
have heard far stranger things since his day, and we tend to perceive these
fleeting clashes as a "spice" rather than a "toxin".

    Although Tallis lived and worked through nearly all of Palestrina's life,
a greater contrast between two contemporaneous composers sharing the same 
faith, and general musical language is rarely encountered.  Palestrina's music 
is by comparison suave, balanced, carefully crafted, almost demure.  One 
imagines that he might have found Tallis' music a bit rough-hewn and 
uncivilized, but it is most unlikely that he ever heard any of it.  The 
Italian master's four-voice "Dies sanctificatus" (also specified "in festo 
Nativitatis Domini") is a fine example of his motet style: the long, eminently 
singable lines, in graceful, easily unfolding polyphony, all brought to a 
close by chordal passages in triple meter on "exultemus".

    "O magnum mysterium", for six voices, is a larger-scale work in two
sections in the familiar AB:CB format.  Cumulatively, phrase by phrase,
Palestrina creates a mood of awe and mystery at the miracle of the birth
of Jesus.  Although Victoria's setting of this text is more popular nowadays,
his colleague and rival's treatment is fully its equal in feeling and mastery.
Especially noteworthy are, at the end of each section, the dancelike figures
on "collaudantes" followed by wonderfully serene and solemn alleluias, and 
the beautiful paired duets at the opening of the second section.

    Our program concludes with Palestrina's setting of the same "Hodie Christus
natus est" text we began with.  It is an example of his festal style, and 
is scored for two four-part choirs, one high, the other lower.  The choirs 
are separated spatially in order to set off the many antiphonal exchanges.
The texture is chordal, and, like Marenzio, Palestrina places all of the voice 
parts high in their ranges for the most brilliant and splendid effect.

						- Joel van Lennep