Madrigals - Gregory Brown

The Wooster Chorus presents
Madrigals
An Evening of
MADRIGALS
MADRIGALS
MADRIGALS
Gregory W. Brown music director
with The Wooster Singers & Toni Shreve
7.00pm
Saturday, April 25
Gault Recital Hall Scheide Mus.Ctr.
admission free
“The word, the text, with all its values and qualities,
should be the master, and not the servant of the musical harmony.”
Claudio Monteverdi
! Program "
Perch’al viso d’Amor
Ecco la Primavera
Francesco Petrarca (1304–1374)
Francesco Landini (1325/35–1397)
Andrew LeVan & Greg Brown
El Grillo
O Occhi, ‘manza mia
Fuggirò tanto Amore
R
Josquin de Prez (ca. 1450–1521)
Orlande de Lassus (ca. 1532–1594)
Luca Marenzio (ca. 1553–1599)
Wooster Singers
Toni Shreve collaborative pianist
R
Tristeza
Anon. (ca. 1600)
La Roja
R
Cucu! cucu!
Juan del Encina (1468–1529)
La Roja
Il est belle et bon
Pierre Passareau (1490–1547)
Equipe de France
Der Kuckuck hat sich zu Tod gefalln
Johann Steffens (1560–1616)
Die Deutschelanders
R
Ecco mormorar l’onde
Claudio Monteverdi (1567–1643)
The Wooster Chorus
Cruda amarilli
Monteverdi
I Rozzi Armadilli
Lamenta della Ninfa
Monteverdi
Men of the Wooster Chorus
Eva Hendrix-Schovlin soprano, Anna Lemler cello, Toni Shreve harpsichord
R
How Merrily We Live
Michael East (ca. 1580–1648)
Women of the Wooster Chorus
R
Lay a Garland
Madrigal (Op. 35)
Robert Lucas Pearsall (1795–1856)
Gabriel Fauré (1845–1924)
Toni Shreve piano
Amor, Io Sento L’alma
Morten Lauridsen (b. 1943)
The Wooster Chorus
Wooster Chorus
Gregory W. Brown music director ‡
soprano
tenor
JENNIFER BARNES *
KRISTEN CONNORS #
EMMA DELOOZE *
HILARY GROTHMAN *
HANNAH HAAS *
EVA HENDRIX-SHOVLIN †
HILARY HICKS †
VIRGINIA KINCAID †
ANNA LEMLER †
CLAIRE LEWIS ° #
ERICA MORGAN #
VALERIYA SPEKTOR ‡
SARAH VOGELE †
JONATHAN BRUMBAUGH †
SHANE LEGG *
ANDREW LEVAN ‡ #
OWEN REYNOLDS #
WYATT SHIMEALL †
DYLAN TRAVERS *
alto
CARLY AMSTER †
CLAIRE BURGESS *
SARAH GREEN-GOLAN †
CORI KUBAT *
ARIANNE RAHMON #
JACQUELINE RAU ° †
CLARA REED *
BRONWYN SCHLAEFER ‡
MIATTA TOOTHMAN #
ROBYN TREM #
LAURA WEST †
bass
MATTHEW BAUERLE *
BEN CAROLI *
THOMAS DWYER *
DUSTIN GATRELL #
ANDREW GORDON #
PHILIP MCLEOD †
IAN RYNEX †
ZACHARY SCHULTZ †
THOMAS STIKELEATHER #
KYLE THOMAS #
PAUL WINCHESTER ° * ‡
°
*
#
†
‡
section leader
La Roja
Equipe de France
Die Deutschelanders
I Rozzi Armadilli
Wooster Singers
Gregory W. Brown music director
Toni Shreve collaborative pianist
ASHLEY BAIN
STEVEN BOUYACK
GRACE HANSEN
EVA HENDRIX-SHOVLIN
LAURA HIGGINS
SOO RIM JIN
JAMES LANCE
BRITTANNY LEE
MARIA MILLAN
RITA MOSES
LAUREN PATYAK
KELSIE-KEI ROGERS
SAMANTHA SABOLSKY
DERRICK SCHROCK
NICHOLAS TERELLE
A NDREA VERNO
LISA WOLLENBERG
KENTARO YAMADA
The term ‘madrigal,’ like so many other terms from music history (sonata, sinfonia/symphony, motet, etc.),
has come to refer to many disparate things. Tonight we will take a stroll through some of the main points along
the path, beginning with one of Petrarch’s poems and progressing through to modern day reinterpretations in a
quasi-renaissance style. The etymology of the word madrigal is unclear: Some claim that it is related to matricale
[‘from the womb/mother’, i.e., in the mother tongue], or possibly from the word mandra [‘flock’, suggesting a pastoral song], or even materialis [suggesting poetry in free form, rather than fixed form, or formalis]. Whatever the
reference, the earliest madrigals were generally pastoral, satirical, or love poems that tended towards three-line
stanzas with an ABA or ABB rhyme scheme and a terminating line or couplet. Early musical settings tended to
be two- or three-voice rustic affairs that Francesco da Barberino referred to as “raw and chaotic singalong[s].”
We begin this evening’s program with a reading of a madrigal poem by Francesco Petrarch, a contemporary of Dante.
Petrarch’s poetry served as an inspiration for composers from his own time, through to the 16th century madrigalists
that would bring the genre to its height, and even to Liszt and others. The first musical example comes from Francesco
Landini, who is best known today as the namesake for a common cadential voice-leading pattern from this time period.
Blind from childhood, Landini turned to music early in life and became a master of singing, composition, and many instruments — possibly even inventing a few himself. Along with Dante, Petrarch, and many others, Landini was part of the burgeoning early Renaissance of 14th century Italy, also known as the Trecento period (from the Italian mille trecento, or 1300).
Perch’al viso d’Amor portava insegna,
mosse una pellegrina il mio cor vano,
ch’ogni altra mi parea d’onor men degna.
Because she bore Love’s emblems in her aspect,
a pilgrim, she vainly moved my heart,
so that all others seemed less worthy of honour.
Et lei seguendo su per l’erbe verdi,
udí’ dir alta voce di lontano:
Ahi, quanti passi per la selva perdi!
And I followed her over the green grass:
hearing a loud voice from the distance:
‘Ah, how many steps you lose in this wood!’
Allor mi strinsi a l’ombra d’un bel faggio,
tutto pensoso; et rimirando intorno,
vidi assai periglioso il mio vïaggio;
I crouched in the shade of a lovely beech,
pensively: and looking all around me,
I saw many dangers on my road:
et tornai indietro quasi a mezzo ‘l giorno.
— Petrarch
and turned back, almost at the point of noon.
{
{
Ecco la primavera,
Che’l cor fa rallegrare,
Temp’è d’annamorare
E star con lieta cera.
Spring has come apace
To waken hearts to gladness;
Time for lovers’ madness
And to wear a happy face.
Noi vegiam l’aria e’l tempo
Che pur chiam’ allegria
In questo vago tempo
Ogni cosa vagheça.
The elements together
Are beckoning to mirth;
In this delightful weather,
Delight pervades the earth.
L’erbe con gran frescheça
E fior’ coprono i prati,
E gli albori adornati
Sono in simil manera.
The grass in fresh rebirth
Helps meadows come a-flower,
And every branch and bower,
Is decked with kindred grace.
After the Trecento period other secular forms such as the ballata superceded the early form of the madrigal.
A little more than a century later the term was ressurected, though—confusingly enough—to refer to a variety of
musical forms such as the ballata, canzona, and others. The common thread that begins to emerge through all of
this confusion of terms and forms is that of a preponderance of the pastoral and amatory coupled with an interest in word-painting, or creating musical gestures expressing—or painting—the words in nearly graphical terms.
Josquin de Prez, composer of El Grillo, is best known for the wealth of sacred music that he produced during the
flowering of the early renaissance. The essentially homophonic El Grillo is more properly an example of a frotolla.
Notice the lighthearted nature of the text and musical setting, as well as the unsubtle word-painting for the word longo.
O Occhi, manza mia is an example of an arrangement of a secular song in the rustic style of Neapolitan street music
known as villanesche, in which the harmonic language and voice-leading was purposefully unlearned and parallel-fifths
were included as a way of imitating the improvisations of untrained musicians. The original O Occhi, manza mia was
an anonymous three-voice villanesca that Lassus probably learned as a young man in Naples. Lassus’s arrangement
follows Adriano Willaert’s literal arrangement style, in which the melody is moved from the top voice to the tenor
line to allow for a more balanced harmonization, along with some additional minor changes and interpolations that
somewhat gentrify the more rustic original. Note the humor of the text and the simple repetitive form. Fuggirò tant’
Amore is another example of a piece with a simple form, though we see a more polyphonic treatment of the texture.
The cricket is a good singer
He can sing very long
He sings all the time.
But he isn’t like the other birds.
If they’ve sung a little bit
They go somewhere else
The cricket remains where he is
When the heat is very fierce
Then he sings only for love.
El grillo è buon cantore
Che tiene longo verso.
Dalle beve grillo canta.
Ma non fa come gli altri uccelli
Come li han cantato un poco,
Van de fatto in altro loco
Sempre el grillo sta pur saldo,
Quando la maggior el caldo
Alhor canta sol per amore.
{
O occhi, ‘manza† mia, cigli dorati,
O faccia d’una luna stralucenti.
Tienemi mente,
Gioia mia bella,
Guardam’un poc’a me, fami contiento.
†
O my beloved’s eyes, set in gilded lashes,
O face luminous as the moon.
Remember me,
My lovely treasure
Look after me a while, satisfy me.
— Southern Italian dialects tend to omit initial ‘a’,
yielding the light-hearted pun: manza, meaning heifer.
{
Fuggirò tant’Amore,
Che scemerà l’ardore,
Le fiamm’ e le catene,
Che tengono quest’alma in tante pene.
I will escape from so much Love,
That the passion will diminish,
The flames and the chains,
That hold this soul in so much pain.
Fuggirò dunque Amore,
Sciolto dal fiero ardore,
E dirò nel fuggire:
“Donna tu sei cagion del mio martire”
I will escape therefore my Love,
Free from the fierce passion,
And I will say by escaping:
“Woman, you are the cause of my martyrdom”
Tristeza ¿quien á mi os dió?
no ge lo merecía yo.
Tristeza, triste de mi,
por mi mal vos conocí.
Mas si vos quereis á mi,
mucho mas vos quiero yo.
Tristeza comes from the Cancionero Musical de Palacio, a large
collection of Spanish secular
works dating from about 1600. It
is probably best referred to as a
villancico, a Spanish form of the
madrigal. Charmingly, the polyphonic texture resembles that of a
sacred motet, but the form and the
text are clearly secular in nature.
Sadness — who gave you to me?
I didn’t deserve it.
Sadness — sad little me;
By my faults I came to know you.
What’s worse is that if you love me,
I love you much more.
{
The Cuckoo: Denizen of kitschy alpine clocks, purveyor of chocolaty breakfast cereal, and ages-old cultural symbol of more iniquitous things. Many species of cuckoo are brood-parasites, laying their eggs in the
nests of other birds. This behavior has lead to their traditional association with craziness, laziness, and cuckoldry [having an unfaithful wife]. The three madrigals performed here all have to due with the third association, reflecting a concern inherent to a patrilineal society, i.e., the casting of doubt upon the authenticity of one’s offspring. The first selection is a crude (and hopefully tongue-in-cheek) exhortation to men to keep a close eye on
their wives; the second is a satirical portrait of two gossiping women revelling in the dubious virtues of their pathetic husbands; and the third is a more wistful narrative of a person whose love has left them for another.
Cucu! cucu!
Guarda no lo seas tú.
Cuckoo! cuckoo!
Make sure it’s not you.
Compadre debes saber,
que la más buena mujer,
rabia siempre por hoder,
harta bien la tuya tú.
Friend you must know
that the best of women
is always crazy for passion,
so tire yours out well.
Compadre has de guardar,
para nunca encornudar,
si tu mujer sale a mear,
sal junto con ella tú.
Friend you must take care
to never be cuckolded;
if your wife goes to the bathroom,
go out with her.
{
Il est bel et bon, commère, mon mari.
He is handsome and fine, my husband is.
Il estoit deux femmes toutes d’ung pays.
Disanst l’une à l’aultre — “Avez bon mary?”
Il ne me courrousse, ne me bat aussy.
Il faict le mesnaige,
Il donne aux poulailles,
Et je prens mes plaisirs.
Commère, c’est pour rire
Quand les poulailles crient:
Petite coquette (co co co co dae)e, qu’esse-cy? †
There were two gossiping women in the village,
Saying one to the other, do you have a good husband?
He doesn’t scold me, or beat me either.
He does the chores,
he feeds the chickens
And I take my pleasure.
Really you have to laugh
to hear the cries of the chicks and hens:
Co, co, co, co, dae, little flirt, what’s this?
† — ‘co co’ here not only imitates the chickens’ clucking,
but also serves as an unsubtle reference to the cuckoo.
Der Kuckuck hat sich zu Tode gefall’n
Von einer hohlen Weiden,
Fa la la…
Wer will uns nun dies lange Jahr
Die Zeit und Weil vertreiben?
The cuckoo has fallen to its death
from the hollow willow,
Fa la la …
Who then should help us
pass the long year?
Mein Feinslieb hat mir ein’ Brief gesandt,
Darin so steht geschrieben,
Sie hab ein’ andern lieber denn mich
und hab sich mein verziegen.
Fa la la…
My love has sent me a letter
in which she writes
that she has another lover
and has made me into a goat. [i.e., made me a cuckold]
Fa la la…
Das sie sich mein verziegen hat,
das tu ich nicht groß achten.
Laß fahren, was nicht bleiben will,
ich hab ein’ Sinn, der acht’s nicht viel.
Fa la la…
She has thus left me
because I was not wary enough.
Let’s go, life will not wait,
I have enough sense, but not enough vigilance.
Fa la la…
Claudio Monteverdi’s treatment of the madrigal approaches the sublime. What was often a crude and sometimes
even ribald genre is elevated in Monteverdi’s mature work to a level seldom seen in secular music of any era. His word
painting, both on a word-by-word level and in more general terms as it expresses bigger and deeper human ideas and
emotions, is second to none. Ecco mormorar l’onde describes the sun rising over the sea in exquisite detail, with subtle
evocations of all of the mundane comings and goings of the pre-dawn world, ending with a conceptual linking of sunrise with the restoring of the human soul. Listen for word-painting in the depiction of mountains, birds, and waves in
particular. Cruda Amarilli is the first madrigal in Monteverdi’s fifth book (out of eight). Though relatively unremarkable
to modern ears, the dissonance in this work would have been striking to contemporary ears and marks an attempt
to deepen the expressive possibilities for harmonic language to express human pain.Lamenta Della Ninfa marks a step
further into dissonant and expressive gestures. Observe also the inclusion of instruments in the form of a basso continuo (here represented by harpsichord and cello) and an almost scenic or operatic treatment of the source material.
Ecco mormorar l’onde
e tremolar le fronde
a l’aura mattutina e gl’arborselli
E sovra i verdi rami i vagh’augelli
cantar soavemente.
E rider l’Oriente.
Ecco già l’alb’appare
e si sprecchia nel mare
e rasserena il cielo
e’imperla il dolce gielo
e gl’alti monti indora.
O bella e vagh’aurora
l’aura è tua messaggiera, e tu de l’aura
ch’ogn’arso cur ristaura.
— Tasso
Hear the gentle breezes murmuring,
and the leaves and young trees
trembling in the morning air.
And, above, on leafy branches, beautiful birds
sing sweetly,
And, slowly, the eastern sky lightens.
Now the dawn begins to appear,
and to cast a reflection in the sea,
and to brighten the sky,
and to make pearls of delicate dewdrops,
and to clothe in gold the high mountains.
Oh, radiant and shining dawn,
this breeze is your messenger, and you are the messenger of the breath
that restores each ardent, withered heart.
Cruda Amarilli, che col nome ancora,
d’amar, ahi, lasso! amaramente insegni.
Amarilli, del candido ligustro
più candida e più bella,
ma de l’aspido sordo
e più sorda e più fera e più fugace;
poi che col dir t’offendo,
I’ mi morrò tacendo.
— Guarini
Non havea Febo ancora
recato al mondo il dí,
ch’una donzella fuora
del proprio albergo uscí.
{
Cruel Amaryllis, who with your very name
teach me in love, but, alas, teach me bitterly.
Amaryllis, fairer and more beautiful
than the whitest jasmine,
but more deaf, more evasive, and fiercer
than the deaf asp;
since I offend you when I speak to you,
I shall die in silence.
The Sun had not brought
The day to the world yet,
When a maiden
Went out of her dwelling.
Sul pallidetto volto
scorgeasi il suo dolor,
spesso gli venia sciolto
un gran sospir dal cor.
On her pale face
Grief could be seen,
Often from her heart
A deep sigh was drawn.
Sí calpestando fiori
errava hor qua, hor là,
i suoi perduti amori
cosí piangendo va:
—
“Amor”, dicea, il ciel
mirando, il piè fermo,
“dove, dov’è la fè
ch’el traditor giurò?”
Thus, treading upon flowers,
She wandered, now here, now there,
And lamented her lost loves
Like this:
[Miserella.]
[Poor her!]
“Fa’ che ritorni il mio
amor com’ei pur fu,
o tu m’ancidi, ch’io
non mi tormenti più.”
Make my love come back
As he used to be
Or kill me, so that
I will not suffer anymore.
[Miserella, ah più no, no,
tanto gel soffrir non può.]
[Poor her! She cannot bear
All this coldness!]
“Non vo’ più ch’ei sospiri
se non lontan da me,
no, no che i martiri
più non darammi affè.
I don’t want him to sigh any longer
But if he’s far from me.
No! He will not make me suffer
Anymore, I swear!
Perché di lui mi struggo,
tutt’orgoglioso sta,
che si, che si se’l fuggo
ancor mi pregherà?
He’s proud
Because I languish for him.
Perhaps if I fly away from him
He will come to pray to me again.
Se ciglio ha più sereno
colei, che’l mio non è,
già non rinchiude in seno,
Amor, sí bella fè.
If her eyes are more serene
Than mine,
O Love, she does not hold in her heart
A fidelity so pure as mine.
Ne mai sí dolci baci
da quella bocca havrai,
ne più soavi, ah taci,
taci, che troppo il sai.”
—
And you will not receive from those lips
Kisses as sweet as mine,
Nor softer. Oh, don’t speak!
Don’t speak! you know better than that!
Sí tra sdegnosi pianti
spargea le voci al ciel;
cosí ne’ cori amanti
mesce amor fiamma, e gel.
So amidst disdainful tears,
She spread her crying to the sky;
Thus, in the lovers’ hearts
Love mixes fire and ice.
—
O Love — she said,
Gazing at the sky, as she stood
Where’s the fidelity
That the deceiver promised?
—
— Rinuncini
Italian madrigals were known in England in the mid 1500s, and by the turn of the 17th century a strong tradition
of madrigal writing had arisen from a variety of catalysts: Italian madrigal composer Alfonso Ferrabosco’s presence in
the court of Queen Elizabeth I, a flourishing of poetry in the vernacular (Marlowe, Shakespeare, et al.), and the publication of many Italian madrigals in an edition titled Musica transalpina [music from across the Alps] in 1588. These
English madrigals tended to be lighter in nature, but there are also fine examples of dark and tormented pieces as well.
How Merrily We Live is just one small example from the rich treasury of English madrigals. The pastoral text
is likely an original text by the composer. The piece was published in part-book format in his second set of madrigals dating from 1608. Michael East’s other compositions are not well known and are seldom heard today.
How merrily we live that shepherds be,
roundelays still we sing with merry glee,
On the pleasant downs where as our flocks we see,
we feel no cares, we fear not fortune’s frowns,
we have no envy which sweet mirth confounds.
{
The last three works on this evening’s program display characteristics of the various music styles of their own
time’s, as well as characteristics that one would generally consider madrigalian. From among the modern madrigals not
included on the program, but well worth mention, are György Ligeti’s “Nonsense Madrigals” (1989–93), which he wrote
for the King’s Singers. These works draw on English poetry from Lewis Carroll and others and includes a beautiful
setting of the English alphabet.
Robert Lucas Pearsall was a former barrister who, following a stroke at age 30, took up studies in a variety of fields
including composition. He was widely traveled and took studies with Joseph Panny in Mainz in 1825–29. Back in his
home country of England he was a founding member of the Bristol Madrigal Society in 1837. This ensemble provided
him with an outlet for his many compositions. His madrigals were written in a hybrid style that drew on renaissance
polyphonic techniques but employed dissonance treatments that were far more romantic. His 8-part Lay a Garland is
probably the best known of his works for chorus.
Lay a garland on her hearse
of dismal yew.
Maidens, willow branches wear,
say she died true.
Her love was false, but she was firm.
Upon her buried body lie
lightly, thou gentle earth.
— Francis Beaumont & John Fletcher
Gabriel Fauré, French composer and teacher of great renown, composed his Madrigal (Op. 35) as a gift for fellow
composer and close friend, André Messager. The text is a sardonic, but playful, take on the relationships between men
and women, lover and loved. Fauré’s setting is both ironic and sweet, initially posing the voices against one another, but
bringing them together in a final resigned (yet smiling) acquiescence. This piece draws its title directly from Silvestre’s
poem (not unlike the earliest of madrigals) and seems to have a closer connection to contemporary art song than to the
tradition of madrigalism we have heard so far this evening.
Inhumaines qui, sans merci,
Vous raillez de notre souci,
Aimez! aimez quand on vous aime!
Women, cruelty is your way,
With your mocking smiles and play.
Love now, don’t love tomorrow!
Ingrats qui ne vous doutez pas
Des rêves éclos sur vos pas,
Aimez! aimez quand on vous aime!
Men, heartless you are, and it seems
You only scorn our love-longing dreams.
Love now, don’t love tomorrow!
Sachez, ô cruelles Beautés,
Que les jours d’aimer sont comptés.
You’ll learn, all too late, in dismay
How we could have loved you today.
Sachez, amoureux inconstants,
Que le bien d’aimer n’a qu’un temps.
Aimez! aimez quand on vous aime!
You’ll learn, for this love you now spurn
Once destroyed there’s never return.
Love now, don’t love tomorrow!
Le même destin nous poursuit
Et notre folie est la même:
C’est celle d’aimer qui nous fuit,
C’est celle de fuir qui nous aime!
— Armand Silvestre
You are not alone in such grief.
Yours is not the heart’s only madness.
Those fleeing from us we adore,
While fleeing from those who adore us.
Tonight’s program concludes with one of Morten Lauridsen’s reinterpretations of Italian renaissance madrigals. In
Lauridsen’s own words: “The choral masterpieces of the High Renaissance, especially the madrigals by Monteverdi and
Gesualdo, provided the inspiration for my own Madrigali [the six “Fire Madrigals”]. Italian love poems of that era have
constituted a rich lyric source for many composers, and while reading them I became increasingly intrigued by the symbolic image of flames, burning and fire that recurred within this context. I decided to compose an intensely dramatic
cycle based on Renaissance love poems employing this fire motive [a particularly colorful harmony that occurs in each
of the six works in various guises] while blending stylistic musical features of the period with a contemporary compositional idiom. These characteristics include word painting, modality, bold harmonic shifts, intricate counterpoint and
augenmusic, or eye music, which occur throughout the cycle.”
Amor io sento l’alma
Tornar nel foco ov’io
Fui lieto et più che mai d’arder desio.
Io ardo e n’ chiara fiamma
Nutrisco il miser core;
Et quanto più s’infiamma,
Tanto più cresce amore,
Perch’ogni mio dolore
Nasce dal fuoco ov’io
Fui lieto et più che mai d’arder desio.
—Jhan Gero (parody after Machiavelli)
Oh love, I feel my soul
Return to fire where I
Rejoiced and more than ever desire to burn.
I burn and in bright flames
I feed my miserable heart;
The more it flames
The more my loving grows,
For all my sorrows come
From out of the fire where I
Rejoiced and more than ever desire to burn.