Quis dabit capiti meo aquam by Heinrich Isaac
To close out this week of musical works in memoriam, I offer 'Quis dabit capiti meo aquam' by Heinrich Isaac (c.1450-1517), to a poem by Angelo Poliziano (1454-1494).
This remarkable motet was written in memory of Lorenzo de' Medici (1449-1492), patron and friend of both Isaac and Poliziano. As most of you know, Lorenzo (called 'Il Magnifico') was a noted statesman and patron of the arts in Renaissance Florence. Over the years, he and his family gave support--sometimes lodging and food as well--to many artists, authors and musicians, including Leonardo, Botticelli, Michelangelo, Verrocchio, Ghirlandaio, Poliziano, Marsilio Ficino,
Isaac and Alexander Agricola.
Lorenzo himself was a poet, and left us a substantial body of sensitive poetry and prose, as well as song lyrics meant to be performed at Florence's carnival celebrations. He was also a skilled bass singer.
Upon Lorenzo's death in 1492, Poliziano wrote the poem which serves as the basis for today's motet; soon thereafter, the northerner Isaac, who had been resident in Florence and probably an intimate of the Medici family for many years,
set the poem to music.
As you'll see when you read the poem and listen to the recording, the motet is a heartrending outpouring of grief for Lorenzo the man, the musician, the patron. The first part is all about weeping, along with the turtledove, the swan and the nightingale, all associated with death. In the second part, Lorenzo--identified here with the laurel, symbol of honor and of peace--is laid low. This image is intensified by the bass part (recall that Lorenzo sang bass) intoning 'Et requiescamus in pace' ('And may we rest in peace') over and over, each iteration a step lower. The third and final part highlights Lorenzo's patronage (the 'spreading boughs'), which helped instruments and voices to sound sweeter, before closing with
'Now we are all mute, all deaf'.
Isaac discovers for this poem the perfect language of textures, imitations and cadences. Composed for a spare four-voice ensemble, the piece alternates between homophony, imitative polyphony and various groupings of voices. The tessitura is low (even for the times), and the sequentially descending middle section adds to this effect. The third section uses oblique motion against a long-held note (surely the 'spreading bough') to create yet another memorable texture; and at the end, tenor and soprano sustain their notes while alto and bass struggle on in chilly darkness, in deafness, in emptiness.
Brrrr--what an evocation of grief and of loss, so brilliant and at the same time so humane, so evocative of what we actually experience in bereavement.
As usual, score, recording and text/translation sheet are attached. A note for altos: Your part is actually a tenor part. You may or may not enjoy the range--if not, feel free to sing the soprano part instead.
To close out this week of musical works in memoriam, I offer 'Quis dabit capiti meo aquam' by Heinrich Isaac (c.1450-1517), to a poem by Angelo Poliziano (1454-1494).
This remarkable motet was written in memory of Lorenzo de' Medici (1449-1492), patron and friend of both Isaac and Poliziano. As most of you know, Lorenzo (called 'Il Magnifico') was a noted statesman and patron of the arts in Renaissance Florence. Over the years, he and his family gave support--sometimes lodging and food as well--to many artists, authors and musicians, including Leonardo, Botticelli, Michelangelo, Verrocchio, Ghirlandaio, Poliziano, Marsilio Ficino,
Isaac and Alexander Agricola.
Lorenzo himself was a poet, and left us a substantial body of sensitive poetry and prose, as well as song lyrics meant to be performed at Florence's carnival celebrations. He was also a skilled bass singer.
Upon Lorenzo's death in 1492, Poliziano wrote the poem which serves as the basis for today's motet; soon thereafter, the northerner Isaac, who had been resident in Florence and probably an intimate of the Medici family for many years,
set the poem to music.
As you'll see when you read the poem and listen to the recording, the motet is a heartrending outpouring of grief for Lorenzo the man, the musician, the patron. The first part is all about weeping, along with the turtledove, the swan and the nightingale, all associated with death. In the second part, Lorenzo--identified here with the laurel, symbol of honor and of peace--is laid low. This image is intensified by the bass part (recall that Lorenzo sang bass) intoning 'Et requiescamus in pace' ('And may we rest in peace') over and over, each iteration a step lower. The third and final part highlights Lorenzo's patronage (the 'spreading boughs'), which helped instruments and voices to sound sweeter, before closing with
'Now we are all mute, all deaf'.
Isaac discovers for this poem the perfect language of textures, imitations and cadences. Composed for a spare four-voice ensemble, the piece alternates between homophony, imitative polyphony and various groupings of voices. The tessitura is low (even for the times), and the sequentially descending middle section adds to this effect. The third section uses oblique motion against a long-held note (surely the 'spreading bough') to create yet another memorable texture; and at the end, tenor and soprano sustain their notes while alto and bass struggle on in chilly darkness, in deafness, in emptiness.
Brrrr--what an evocation of grief and of loss, so brilliant and at the same time so humane, so evocative of what we actually experience in bereavement.
As usual, score, recording and text/translation sheet are attached. A note for altos: Your part is actually a tenor part. You may or may not enjoy the range--if not, feel free to sing the soprano part instead.