Aura ch'errando by Luzzasco Luzzaschi
OK, raise your hand if you've ever heard of Luzzasco Luzzaschi. Keep your hand up if you've ever heard any music by him. Keep that hand up still if you've ever sung anything by him.
I wonder how many hands went up (or stayed up) for any of the above. He's not exactly a household name. And yet he was one of the finest composers of the late 16th-century, justly famous in his time as an organist, composer, and director of the famous 'Concerto delle donne', a crackerjack female vocal ensemble at the court of Ferrara, where Luzzaschi (c1545-1607) spent pretty much his entire life. Other courts (such as Mantova, where Monteverdi worked for many years) envied the virtuosic Ferrarese style, and hired composers with a special brief to emulate or surpass the spectacular madrigals which Luzzaschi was churning out.
Obviously Monteverdi did a pretty great job on his own part, and of course he is indeed a household name (definitely in this household, anyway). But Luzzaschi is well worth a look and a listen.
That's the purpose of today's Monday Madrigal project.
We are aided in this effort by a wonderful performance of our selection, from a 2011 recording of Luzzaschi's Fifth Book of Madrigals by the vocal ensemble Venexiana. Along with this recording are score, text-translation sheet and (courtesy of Cinzia) a pronunciation recording.
Our madrigal is called 'Aura ch'errando', on a poem by Ridolfo Arlotti. The poem is a passionate request to the breeze to carry the protagonist's message to her lover: That she is still weeping, still dying, still adoring him. (Given his cruelty, she should probably just move on, but you know how love can be.) The first thing to do is to take a look at the text-translation sheet and read the poem. Listen to Cinzia's recording as you do to get the authentic sound in your voice and in your ear.
Then look at the score and track the poem to the music. I've inserted the translation to make facilitate this process. You'll notice that the music is incredibly responsive to each detail of the text--the breeze, the flowers, the laments, the wretchedness: Each of these and more is brought to vivid life by Luzzaschi's choices of motive, imitation, rhythmic motion, harmony.
Once you've made an attempt to grok the piece with your mind, your eye and your inner ear, then listen to the recording. It'll be like the moment in 'The Wizard of Oz' when it goes from black-and-white to color. Listen to the piece several times, with and then without the score.
And finally, if you're brave enough, sing along with the piece, perhaps imagining yourself in the Castello Estense (the ducal palace of Ferrara), hobnobbing with and consorting with and making music with the courtiers and the musicians and the poets who made that place one of the most envied musical and artistic centers of Europe.
Now raise your hand if you think Luzzaschi is worthy to stand next to Wert, Marenzio and even the divine Monteverdi.
OK, raise your hand if you've ever heard of Luzzasco Luzzaschi. Keep your hand up if you've ever heard any music by him. Keep that hand up still if you've ever sung anything by him.
I wonder how many hands went up (or stayed up) for any of the above. He's not exactly a household name. And yet he was one of the finest composers of the late 16th-century, justly famous in his time as an organist, composer, and director of the famous 'Concerto delle donne', a crackerjack female vocal ensemble at the court of Ferrara, where Luzzaschi (c1545-1607) spent pretty much his entire life. Other courts (such as Mantova, where Monteverdi worked for many years) envied the virtuosic Ferrarese style, and hired composers with a special brief to emulate or surpass the spectacular madrigals which Luzzaschi was churning out.
Obviously Monteverdi did a pretty great job on his own part, and of course he is indeed a household name (definitely in this household, anyway). But Luzzaschi is well worth a look and a listen.
That's the purpose of today's Monday Madrigal project.
We are aided in this effort by a wonderful performance of our selection, from a 2011 recording of Luzzaschi's Fifth Book of Madrigals by the vocal ensemble Venexiana. Along with this recording are score, text-translation sheet and (courtesy of Cinzia) a pronunciation recording.
Our madrigal is called 'Aura ch'errando', on a poem by Ridolfo Arlotti. The poem is a passionate request to the breeze to carry the protagonist's message to her lover: That she is still weeping, still dying, still adoring him. (Given his cruelty, she should probably just move on, but you know how love can be.) The first thing to do is to take a look at the text-translation sheet and read the poem. Listen to Cinzia's recording as you do to get the authentic sound in your voice and in your ear.
Then look at the score and track the poem to the music. I've inserted the translation to make facilitate this process. You'll notice that the music is incredibly responsive to each detail of the text--the breeze, the flowers, the laments, the wretchedness: Each of these and more is brought to vivid life by Luzzaschi's choices of motive, imitation, rhythmic motion, harmony.
Once you've made an attempt to grok the piece with your mind, your eye and your inner ear, then listen to the recording. It'll be like the moment in 'The Wizard of Oz' when it goes from black-and-white to color. Listen to the piece several times, with and then without the score.
And finally, if you're brave enough, sing along with the piece, perhaps imagining yourself in the Castello Estense (the ducal palace of Ferrara), hobnobbing with and consorting with and making music with the courtiers and the musicians and the poets who made that place one of the most envied musical and artistic centers of Europe.
Now raise your hand if you think Luzzaschi is worthy to stand next to Wert, Marenzio and even the divine Monteverdi.