Zefiro Torna by Luca Marenzio
In case you didn't already have enough to do, here's one of the world's greatest madrigals: 'Zefiro torna', with lyrics by Francesco Petrarca and music by the divine Luca Marenzio. (He really was called 'divine', by the way; also 'the sweetest swan'.) Some of you will remember Monteverdi's setting of the same poem, which we did on one of our Italy tours. (If you don't know it, take a listen. And whether you know it or not, by no means miss the ending, starting here--The Best Page of Music Ever.) And perhaps you also remember Monteverdi's spectacular duet setting (over an obsessive bass line) of a different poem (same basic plot) with the same name. Unbelievable.
But Marenzio's madrigal takes a backseat to no other setting. It is sui generis, an utterly masterful, compact evocation of the abandoned lover wandering bereft through a perfect paradise. It's from his 1585 book of four-part madrigals, the same volume which includes the atmospheric 'Non vidi mai', our Monday madrigal several weeks ago. Marenzio divides the piece into two parts, cuing from Petrarch's abrupt change of mood and message at 'Ma per me, lasso'.
In the first part, the composer invents a perfect expression of each of the lovely features of the natural world
through which the protagonist walks.
And then the screw tightens, as the reality of his situation truly strikes home.
This is followed by one fleeting recall of the pretty birds in the landscape ('e cantar augelletti');
and then the descent--figurative and musically literal--to the tragic conclusion.
In case you didn't already have enough to do, here's one of the world's greatest madrigals: 'Zefiro torna', with lyrics by Francesco Petrarca and music by the divine Luca Marenzio. (He really was called 'divine', by the way; also 'the sweetest swan'.) Some of you will remember Monteverdi's setting of the same poem, which we did on one of our Italy tours. (If you don't know it, take a listen. And whether you know it or not, by no means miss the ending, starting here--The Best Page of Music Ever.) And perhaps you also remember Monteverdi's spectacular duet setting (over an obsessive bass line) of a different poem (same basic plot) with the same name. Unbelievable.
But Marenzio's madrigal takes a backseat to no other setting. It is sui generis, an utterly masterful, compact evocation of the abandoned lover wandering bereft through a perfect paradise. It's from his 1585 book of four-part madrigals, the same volume which includes the atmospheric 'Non vidi mai', our Monday madrigal several weeks ago. Marenzio divides the piece into two parts, cuing from Petrarch's abrupt change of mood and message at 'Ma per me, lasso'.
In the first part, the composer invents a perfect expression of each of the lovely features of the natural world
through which the protagonist walks.
And then the screw tightens, as the reality of his situation truly strikes home.
This is followed by one fleeting recall of the pretty birds in the landscape ('e cantar augelletti');
and then the descent--figurative and musically literal--to the tragic conclusion.