The Hilliard Ensemble / LASSUS Missa pro defunctis - Prophetiae Sibyllarum |
medieval.org
ECM New Series 1658
noviembre de 1993
Boxgrove Priory, Chichester
MISSA PRO DEFUNCTIS
01 - Responsorium. Memento mei Deus [1:48]
02 - Introitus [6:12]
03 - Kyrie [3:19]
04 - Graduale [5:02]
05 - Offertorium [5:37]
06 - Sanctus & Benedictus [4:32]
07 - Agnus Dei [3:04]
08 - Communio [3:24]
09 - Antiphona. In paradisum [1:26]
PROPHETIAE SYBILLARUM
10 - Carmina Chromatico [1:36]
11 - Sibylla Persica [2:32]
12 - Sibylla Libyca [2:41]
13 - Sibylla Delphica [2:16]
14 - Sibylla Cimmeria [2:17]
15 - Sibylla Samia [1:55]
16 - Sibylla Cumana [2:16]
17 - Sibylla Hellespontiaca [2:07]
18 - Sibylla Phrygia [1:55]
19 - Sibylla Europaea [2:15]
20 - Sibylla Tiburtina [2:12]
21 - Sibylla Erythraea [2:26]
22 - Sibylla Agrippa [2:25]
THE HILLIARD ENSEMBLE
David James
Rogers Covey-Crump
John Potter
Gordon Jones
Lassus and the Sibyls
The
appropriation of ancient pagan culture by Christianity is surely one of
the most extraordinary ironies of western culture, and it is nicely
symbolised by the Prophetiae Sybillarum of Orlando di Lasso and the Dies irae
from the requiem mass, both of which refer to the sayings of the Sibyl,
a mythical soothsayer whose origins are lost in the mists of antiquity.
Lassus made two settings of the requiem, both which are hard to date on
stylistic grounds because of the conservative nature of the genre.
This recording is of the version published in 1578; it has low bass
intonations, an odd feature which may have had something to do with the
talents of a particular cleric, or been a response to some aspect of
the Council of Trent whose deliberations came to a close in 1563. The Dies irae
was one of four sequences to survive the Council, but as was customary
at the time Lassus did not set it polyphonically. He certainly would
have heard it chanted at the Munich chapel of Duke Albrecht V of
Bavaria, where he was employed from 1556 until his death in 1594. The
third line of the Dies irae contains the famous phrase 'teste
David cum Sibylla', possibly a reference to the Erythraean Sibyl, which
shows that the Sibylline legend was thriving in the mid-13th century
when the sequence was written.
Born in Mons in 1532, Lassus went
to Italy at the age of twelve in the service of the Mantuan court of
the Gonzagas. His earliest compositions are thought to date from his
time in Naples and Rome between about 1550 and 1555. Lassus clearly
knew the music of Cipriano da Rore, whose highly chromatic madrigal Calami sonum ferentes he used as a model for his own motet Alma nemes
and it is possible that he was in Rome at the time of the great debate
on chromaticism between Lusitano and Vicentino in 1551. Both these
theorists were trying to establish the nature of the ancient Greek
music, the former (who was judged the winner) using the evidence to
support a diatonic (and conservative) compositional method, and the
latter proposing a more radical chromaticism. The young Lassus was on
the side of the radicals, and within a few years of this great debate
had produced the Prophetiae Sibyllarum, which were copied in
the composer's own hand soon after his arrival in Munich. The partbooks
contain pictures by the court painter Hans Mielich of each of the
Sibyls, and of Lassus himself aged about 28.
It is possible that
Lassus was inspired to set the Sibylline verses by a visit to Cumae
sometime during his years in Naples. There is no evidence that he went
there, and he would not have seen the actual cave of the Cumaean Sibyl
as this was not properly excavated until 1932, but he could have seen
the remains of the temple of Apollo or one of the old Roman tunnels
where it was thought that the Sibyl, silent since the third century BC,
had had her lair. Even today this strange volcanic landscape to the
north of the Bay of Naples has a menacing magic about it (Lake
Avernus,where Orpheus entered the underworld, is close by). It is not
overfanciful to imagine the young humanist musician recalling the power
of such a place when he came to make his own contribution to the new
music a few years later. It seems that originally there may have been
just one much-travelled ur-Sibyl, who, possibly as early as the
8th century BC established localised cult centres in the Mediterranean
area and Asia Minor (perhaps when she was no longer capable of
travelling herself). These eventually became Sibyls in their own right.
The origin of the term 'Sibyl' is unknown, but it came to mean a
prophetess associated with a particular centre, where doom-laden
utterances in Greek hexameters would be issued. These verses have
mostly not survived. From about the third century BC the Hellenized
Alexandrian Jews began to appropriate the medium for their own
anti-Roman purposes, and it is these writings that were in turn revised
and added to by the early Christians to become the pseudo-Oracula Sibyllina,which
fortell the birth of Christ and were much commended by Augustine and
others. Interest in the Sibyls resurfaced in the late fifteenth
century, with several examples of paintings or wood-block prints
accompanied by a line of prophesy. The first appearance of the Latin
verses used by Lassus is in a Venetian print of 1481, and Lassus
probably used the 1545 or 1555 prints of these texts. During the later
middle ages and renaissance the Sibyls were favourite subjects for
religious sculpture and painting, and the high point of their journey
from pagan ramblings to Christian symbolism came when Michelangelo put
five of them on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel alongside seven Old
Testament prophets.
The words for the introductory Carmina Cromatico
are probably by Lassus himself, the title referring to the complex
dissonances and tuning of this extraordinary work. It is the shortest
of the collection, and tonal disorientation begins almost immediately.
The tenor begins 'Carmina' on G, which would lead the listener to
expect the Mixolydian mode; in fact a C chord is inserted before one on
G, after which we reach the word 'chromatico', where Lassus takes off
into B major, C sharp minor and E major in rapid succession, makes a
brief rhetorical pause and then jumps to F sharp minor, completely
destablizing any potential tonal centre. In the first eight bars there
are chords on all but one of the twelve chromatic semitones. This is
word-painting in excelsis. The homophonic texture enables
Lassus to express the text with the immediacy of renaissance rhetoric,
while the continually shifting pitch-centres prepare the listener for
the bizarre mixture of pagan hysteria and Christian epigram which are
to come. Yet despite this apparent verticality, the piece has a strong
linear element, suggesting that Lassus was not only the complete master
of his materials but that he was aware of the problems his singers
would have. The individual lines are quite melodic, with parts crossing
to avoid consecutives or awkward vocal leaps (no one ever has to sing a
tritone). The piece only stays in tune if sung with just intonation, in
effect negotiating each chord individually, and this is much easier to
achieve if the singers have a line which evolves musically. In fact,the
overall shape of this little introduction has an almost physical
dimension to it, as the chords gradually shift their way upwards before
descending in the last two bars. Perhaps Lassus had in mind the
difficult path from the sea to the Sibyl's cave at Cumae.
The
Sibylline Prophesies were a gift from the young Lassus to his patron,
and were not published until after the composer's death. Lassus, who
was fluent in all the compositional techniques of his day, put aside
extreme chromaticism and did not return to it. Such music, known as musica reservata, was unique, and performances were reserved for cognoscenti
such as the king of France who was so astonished when he heard them in
1571. They are among the finest expressions of a renaissance musical
ideal: an attempt to recover from an imagined past a fusion of rhetoric
and chromaticism, in which Lassus stretched the compositional
boundaries of his own time and laid down a challenge to performers of
ours.
John Potter