Among the Great Masters of Music | Page 6

Walter Rowlands
him fame as the leader of a new school, the pure school of Italian church-music. In 1561 the composer became director of music at the Church of St. Maria Maggiore, where he remained ten years, during which period the event took place which gave him his greatest fame.
For years church music had been lacking in that dignity which should be its main characteristic, and this fault was largely due to the Flemish composers, who thought most of displaying their technical skill. They frequently selected some well-known secular tune around which to weave their counterpoint, many masses, for instance, having been written on the old Provencal song of "L' Homme Arm��." Some of the melodies chosen as the basis for masses were nothing but drinking songs. At that time the tenor generally sang the melody, and, as in order to show on what foundation their work rested, the Flemings retained the original words in his part, it was not uncommon to hear the tenors singing some bacchanalian verses, while the rest of the choir were intoning the sacred words of a "Gloria" or an "Agnus Dei." These abuses lasted for an incredibly long time, but finally, in 1562, the cardinals were brought together for the purification of all churchly matters, and the Council of Trent took note of the evil. All were agreed upon abolishing secular words from the mass, and some even urged the banishment of counterpoint itself, and a return to the plain song or chant, but fortunately this sweeping reform met with a vigorous protest from others. At last the whole matter was referred to a committee of eight cardinals, who wisely sought the aid of an equal number of the papal singers, and the outcome of their debate was a commission given Palestrina to write a mass, which should employ counterpoint without irreverence, and prove that religion and music might be blended into one.
The composer, in response to this signal mark of confidence, wrote three masses, which he submitted in 1565. The third one was the celebrated "Mass of Pope Marcellus," of which the Pope ordered a special performance by the choir of the Apostolical Chapel. The rendition was followed by the complete acceptance of Palestrina's work.
A new office, that of "Composer to the Pontifical Choir," was created for him, and in 1571 he became leader of the choir of St. Peter's. Although highly honoured and rewarded with many offices, Palestrina received no great pecuniary recompense for his labours. His life was blessed, however, with the love of a devoted wife, and the friendship of many true admirers, especially Cardinal Carlo Borromeo and Filippo Neri, the founder of oratorio, both of whom were afterward canonised.
Palestrina died in 1594, and lies buried in St. Peter's, where his works are still performed. To the end of his life he never ceased to produce, and left behind him over ninety masses, one hundred and seventy-nine motettes, forty-five sets of hymns for the entire year, and an immense quantity of other compositions. No composer, it is said, has ever existed at once so prolific and so sustainedly powerful. Both the man and his work deserve our regard. Elson says: "If ever the Catholic Church desires to canonise a musical composer, it will find devoutness, humility, and many other saintly characteristics in Palestrina."
Palestrina, in reverend age, discoursing on his art to some pupils or friends, has been painted by Ferdinand Heilbuth (1826-1889), an artist who, born in Germany of Jewish parents, gained his greatest successes in France. He painted three classes of pictures,--those in which celebrated personages of other times are the central attraction, as in "Palestrina;" others which portray aged ecclesiastics of the Roman Church, conversing with the orphan boys of some religious foundation, or the like; and lastly, charming transcripts from field or wood, in whose foreground he placed some fair dame in fashionable attire.

LULLI.
That Amazon of princesses, granddaughter of Henry IV., and cousin of Louis XIV., the Duchesse de Montpensier (better known, perhaps, by the name of "La Grande Mademoiselle"), once asked the Chevalier de Guise to bring her from Italy "a young musician to enliven my house." The chevalier did not forget the great lady's whim, and noticing, one day in Florence, a bright-eyed boy of twelve singing to the music of his guitar, said to him, "Will you come with me to Paris?" The lad, a poor miller's son, without hesitation answered, "Yes;" and thus the young Lulli got his start in the world.
He soon gained experience of the uncertainty which attended the favour of royalty, for, after a few days, "La Grande Mademoiselle" grew tired of her new toy, and sent him to the kitchen, where he became a cook's boy. Here, in the intervals of his work, surrounded by pots and pans, and eatables of
Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code

 / 50
Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.