Great Italian and French Composers | Page 3

a Roman
lady, of whom all we know is that her name was Lucretia. Four
children had blessed the union, and the composer's domestic happiness
became a bar to his temporal preferment. With two others he was
dismissed from the chapel because he was a layman, and a trifling
pension allowed him. Two months afterward, though, he was appointed
chapel-master of St. John Lateran. His works now succeeded each other
rapidly, and different collections of his masses were dedicated to the
crowned heads of Europe. In 1571 he was appointed chapel-master of
the Vatican, and Pope Gregory XIII. gave special charge of the reform
of sacred music to Palestrina.
The death of the composer's wife, whom he idolized, in 1580, was a
blow from which he never recovered. In his latter days he was afflicted
with great poverty, for the positions he held were always more
honorable than lucrative. Mental depression and physical weakness
burdened the last few years of his pious and gentle life, and he died
after a lingering and severe illness. The register of the pontifical chapel
contains this entry: "February 2, 1594. This morning died the most
excellent musician, Signor Giovanni Palestrina, our dear companion
and maestro di capella of St. Peter's church, whither his funeral was
attended not only by all the musicians of Rome, but by an infinite
concourse of people, when his own 'Libera me, Domine' was sung by
the whole college."
Such are the simple and meagre records of the life of the composer,
who carved and laid the foundation of the superstructure of Italian
music; who, viewed in connection with his times and their limitations,
must be regarded as one of the great creative minds in his art; who
shares with Sebastian Bach the glory of having built an imperishable
base for the labors of his successors.
III.
Palestrixa left a great mass of compositions, all glowing with the fire of
genius, only part of which have been published. His simple life was
devoted to musical labor, and passed without romance, diversion, or
excitement. His works are marked by utter absence of contrast and

color. Without dramatic movement, they are full of melody and majesty,
a majesty serene, unruffled by the slightest suggestion of human
passion. Voices are now and then used for individual expression, but
either in unison or harmony. As in all great church music, the chorus is
the key of the work. The general judgment of musicians agrees that
repose and enjoyment are more characteristic of this music than that of
any other master. The choir of the Sistine chapel, by the inheritance of
long-cherished tradition, is the most perfect exponent of the Palestrina
music. During the annual performance of the "Improperie" and
"Lamentations," the altar and walls are despoiled of their pictures and
ornaments, and everything is draped in black. The cardinals dressed in
serge, no incense, no candles: the whole scene is a striking picture of
trouble and desolation. The faithful come in two by two and bow
before the cross, while the sad music reverberates through the chapel
arches. This powerful appeal to the imagination, of course, lends
greater power to the musical effect. But all minds who have felt the lift
and beauty of these compositions have acknowledged how far they soar
above words and creeds, and the picturesque framework of a liturgy.
Mendelssohn, in a letter to Zelter on the Palestrina music as heard in
the Sistine chapel, says that nothing could exceed the effect of the
blending of the voices, the prolonged tones gradually merging from one
note and chord to another, softly swelling, decreasing, at last dying out.
"They understand," he writes, "how to bring out and place each trait in
the most delicate light, without giving it undue prominence; one chord
gently melts into another. The ceremony at the same time is solemn and
imposing; deep silence prevails in the chapel, only broken by the
reechoing Greek 'holy,' sung with unvarying sweetness and
expression." The composer Paër was so impressed with the wonderful
beauty of the music and the performance, that he exclaimed, "This is
indeed divine music, such as I have long sought for, and my
imagination was never able to realize, but which, I knew, must exist."
Palestrina's versatility and genius enabled him to lift ecclesiastical
music out of the rigidity and frivolity characterizing on either hand the
opposing ranks of those that preceded him, and to embody the religious
spirit in works of the highest art. He transposed the ecclesiastical

melody (_canto fermo_) from the tenor to the soprano (thus rendering it
more intelligible to the ear), and created that glorious thing choir song,
with its refined harmony, that noble music of which his works are the
models, and the papal chair the oracle. No individual preeminence is
ever