|
1 CD -
SK 46 348 - (p) 1990
|
|
VIVARTE - 60
CD Collection Vol. 2 - CD 8 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Missa & Sequentia |
|
66' 48" |
|
|
|
|
|
Antoine BRUMEL (c.1460-c.1520) |
|
|
|
Missa
"Et ecce terrae motus" for 12 parts |
|
33' 25" |
|
Kyrie: |
|
|
|
-
Kyrie eleison |
1' 40" |
|
1
|
-
Christe eleison |
2' 45" |
|
2 |
-
Kyrie eleison |
1' 40" |
|
3
|
-
Gloria |
10' 26" |
|
4
|
-
Credo |
10' 50" |
|
5
|
Sanctus: |
|
|
|
-
Sanctus |
3' 14" |
|
6
|
-
Pleni sunt caeli |
1' 47" |
|
7
|
-
Hosanna |
2' 23" |
|
8 |
-
Benedictus |
3' 08" |
|
9
|
-
Hosanna |
2' 27" |
|
10
|
Agnus
Deus: |
|
|
|
-
Agnus Dei I
|
1' 46" |
|
11
|
-
Agnus Dei II |
3' 09" |
|
12
|
-
Agnus Dei III |
1' 53" |
|
13
|
Sequentia "Dies
irae, Dies illa" |
|
19' 11" |
14
|
|
|
|
|
Missa "Et ecce terrae
motus" |
Huelgas Ensemble |
|
Superius
(Soprano): Katelijne van Laethem,
Carol Schlaikjer, Marie Claude Vallin |
Paul Van Nevel,
general direction
|
|
Tenor: John
Dudley, Otto Rastbichler, Angus Smith,
Marius van Altena, Stéohane van Dijck, Ibo
van Ingen |
|
|
Bassus:
Willem Ceuleers, Kees Jan de Koning, Lieven
de Roo |
Wim Becu, bass
trombone/Bassposaune |
|
Sequentia "Dies irae,
Dies illa" |
Cas Gevers, Harry
Ries, tenor trombone/Tenorposaune |
|
Altus:
Claudio Cavina |
Symen van Mechelen,
alto trombone/Altposaune |
|
Tenor: John
Dudley, Ibo van Ingen |
|
|
Bassus:
Willem Ceuleers, Kees Jan de Koning, Lieven
de Roo |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Luogo
e data di registrazione |
|
Chapel of the Irish
College, Leuven (Belgium) - May
1990 |
|
|
Registrazione: live
/ studio |
|
studio |
|
|
Producer /
Recording supervisor |
|
Wolf Erichson |
|
|
Recording Engineer
/ Editing
|
|
Stephan Schellmann
(Tritonus) |
|
|
Prima Edizione LP |
|
- |
|
|
Prima Edizione CD |
|
Sony / Vivarte - SK
46 348 - (1 CD) - durata 66' 48" -
(p) 1990 - DDD |
|
|
Cover Art
|
|
Transfiguration
by Raffael - Archiv für Kunst
& Geschichte, Berlin |
|
|
Note |
|
-
|
|
|
|
|
It
is no accident that the
renowned French doctor and
author François Rabelais
(c.1494-c.1553) cited Brumel
in his Quart livre
des faicts et dicts
héroíques du bon Pantagruel
(1552). Rabelais recalled
among other things the
“chantans mélodieusement” that
the “old masters” and Brumel,
possessed. It is one of the
many accounts provided by
observers inside or outside
the world of music
underscoring the fact that
Brumel was a well-known
personality in his day,
someone more widely spoken and
heard of (then?) than he is
today.
The Italian poet Teofilo
Polengo (1496-1544) described
Brumel as one of the greatest
and most celcbrated singers of
his day in his Le
Maccheronee, a chronicle
which was drawn up in
Latin-Italian style. Eloy
d'Amerval, a contemporary of
Brumel and a master vocalist
and composer in Orléans, wrote
a chronicle entitled Le
Livre de la deablerie at
the end of the fifteenth
century. When Eloy d'Amerval
describes the joy of paradise,
Brumel is also mentioned: he
is one of the greatest of
artists, one who delights
paradise with “[...] quelque
chanterie nouvelle, doulce,
plaisante, devoste et belle
[... ]”
(a new style of singing:
sweet, pleasant, devout and
beautiful). The eccentric
Brumel was also the subject of
vehement dispute in musical
circles. In his tract Practica
Musicae (1496),
Franciscus Gafurius
(1451-1522) ascribed a
compositional peculiarity to
Brumel, namely, the setting of
the accompanying bass line a
tenth below the upper voice.
In 1553, Gregor Faber
(c.1520-?) printed another
product of Brumel`s brilliant
imagination in his book
Musices Praticae
Erotematum Libri II - the
Exemplum octo Modorum,
in which each voice is written
in a different mode!
During the whole of the
sixteenth century much was
said about Brumel. Even in
1597, Thomas Morley referred
to Brumel in his book A
Plaine and Easie
Introduction to Praticall
Musicke as one of the
“practicians”, whose works he
had thoroughly analyzed in
order to learn the proper
application of modes. In the
third part of his guide,
Morley wrote, moreover, that
only Josquin Desprez
(1440-1521) and Brumel were
able to teach one everything
about older canonic
techniques. The Swiss humanist
and friend of Erasmus,
Heinrich Glareanus
(1488-1563), repeatedly
referred to Antoine Brumel in
his monumental work Dodekachordon
(1547), calling him “extremely
traditional”. Five of Brumel's
compositions are cited as
examples. Glareanus referred
to Brumel's mass De
Beatissima Virgine as a
masterpiece,“worthy of a great
man”.
The Venetian music printer
Ottaviano Petrucci
(1466-1539), the first to print
polyphonic music, published
works by Brumel in his first
collection (Harmonice
Musíces Odhecaton A,
1501). A printed collection
followed in 1503 which was
completely devoted to Brumel's
masses. In addition, it is
noteworthy that Orlando di
Lasso (1532-1594) performed
Brumel's monumental mass Et
ecce terra motus more
than fifty years after his
death. Di Lasso, who performed
the part of “tenor secundus”
himself, also prepared the
performance and wrote the name
of each singer next to the
corresponding staff in the
score. The Munich manuscript
for this performance is the
sole surviving copy of this
masterpiece by Brumel (with
the exception of the Agnus
Dei II).
Who was this Antoine Brumel?
lle was a difficult person in
every respect and a
self-willed and eccentric
composer. A difficult
personality is not unusual for
a musician, yet his
idiosyncrasy was recognized
even in his own lifetime.
Brumel was born near Chartres
circa 1460 and was not a
Burgundian subject. Like many
of his colleagues, he led an
adventurous and restless life.
Our first trace of him dates
back to 1483 when he was
mentioned as a singer at the
cathedral of Chartres.Was it
there, perhaps,that he adopted
the Gothic sense of line and
the flamboyant (late Gothic)
sense of space, in order to
retain and express them in his
compositions? In Chartres,
Brumel quickly gained
recognition and soon received
a salary increase “[...] à
cause de son savoir” (on
account of his knowledge). He
remained there for a further
three years, resettling in
Geneva in 1492. Brumel had
previously taken a year`s
leave of absence to visit the
Duke of Savoy, who had offered
him a position in Chambéry. In
1498, Brumel was appointed Cantor
Princeps for the
choirboys at Notre Dame
Cathedral in Paris. Following
a dispute with his employer in
the same year, he was forced
to flee the city. He was later
engaged as a singer in
Chambéry, where he remained
for two years (1501-1502).
In the meantime, Brumel's
compositions had become known
far beyond the French national
borders and he was thus
summoned to Italy. From 1505
to 1510, he held the position
of maestro di cappella (court
music director, at the court
of Alfonso d'Este I in
Ferrara, one of the greatest
centers of musical activity
during the Italian
Renaissance. Brumel was
offered a generous contract: a
benefice of 100 ducats per
year, an annual salary of 100
ducats plus a house in
Ferrara, and an annual travel
allowance of 50 ducats.
In regards to Italian musical
life, what Brumel found in
Ferrara was unsurpassable.
Alfonso I's predecessor had
already been termed “dell`arte
nostro vero monarca” (of the
arts, our true monarch). The
court continually exchanged
compositions and musicians
with the other “Mecca” of
music nearby, the Gonzaga
court in Mantua. Brumel's
predecessor was none other
than Josquin, who left him a
court chapel with 23 singers.
Even Charles VIII found, that
“i migliori suonatori di
piffero, flauto e trombone”
were to be found in Ferrara.
After his five years of
service in Ferrara, Brumel
remained in Italy. He settled
in Rome for some time, where
news of his reputation had
preceeded him. One of the most
magnificent choral collections
of the Vatican, The CHIGI-Codex,
contains works by Brumel. The
Roman music printer Antico
regularly published his
compositions from 1516
onwards. The fact that neither
the date nor the place of
Brumel's death is known fits
the picture of his independent
personality: through his
music, he has attained
immortal status in the eyes of
his biographers.
According to the standards of
his time, Brumel's music knows
no boundaries, is daring and
never strictly
academic.Whether this concerns
imaginative musical
structures, the working-out of
counterpoint or the writing of
repetitive forms - it is
always more or less
“outrageous”.
The most fascinating of
Brumel's works is without a
doubt his twelve-part mass Et
ecce terrae motus. As
already mentioned, this mass
survived as part of a
manuscript prepared in
Bavarian court circles under
the supervision of Orlando di
Lasso. Di Lasso probably found
this music in Alfonso I's
estate. He was fascinated by
the visionary tonal splendor
of the piece, and he had the
mass copied in a large
choirbook format suitable for
the court chapel. The original
was probably lost. The copy is
written most carefully and
demonstrates typical
characteristics of a
professionals handwriting.
Melismatic elements of the
text (e.g. in the Kyrie)
are completely absent. As the
last three pages of the
manuscript are badly damaged,
several parts of the Agnus
Dei I are missing. They
have been reconstructed by
signatories. This task was
facilitated by numerous
indications of canons in the
work and the fact that
twelve-part harmony based on
triadic progressions only
offers a limited choice of
notes to he used in any case.
The Agnus Dei II,
missing from the Bavarian
manuscript (or was it never
performed by Di Lasso?) was
miraculously discovered in a
manuscript kept in Denmark
during the sixteenth century
which cannot be connected in
anyway with Di Lasso's or
Brumel's circles.
Brumel's twelve-part harmony
is not structured in a
traditional manner, but rather
is made up of twelve equal
voices that are divided
according to vocal function
into four groups of three
voices each. Each part has a
characteristic vocal register.
Group I contains three
superious parts. Group II is
made up of three high tenor
voices (i.e. no
countertenors), while Group
III consists of “normal”
tenors and Group IV is
composed of three bass parts.
Each of the three voices
within each group comprises
the same vocal register; their
lines constantly cross one
another, however. In addition,
Brumel, who is especially
interested in a daring,
virtuosic interplay of
contrapuntal lines, employs
the crossing of voices between
groups. In certain passages
(e.g. in the Credo at
the words “invisibilium” and
“sedet ad dexteram”) a bass
voice not only rises above the
entire tenor group, but even
above all the countertenors,
as well.
The six tenor parts (three
high and three “normal”) make
up the tightly-structured core
of the polyphony. Odd melodic
progressions and the crossing
of voices are not unusual in
these parts. The high second
tenor has the same register,
for the most part, as the
third tenor and goes down to a
low A. The high tenor parts
are called countertenors in
the manuscript, but should not
be confused with what today is
considered the characteristic
countertenor voice. The Tenor
III part, in contrast, extends
down to a low F and lies lower
at that point than all the
bass lines. It is hard to
imagine the vocal virtuosity
Brumel was envisioning while
composing this mass. Melodie
leaps of an octave regularly
occur. The vocal ranges are
pushed to extremes and some
passages are only performable
by using Renaissance vocal
techniques such as falsetto
and changes in vocal color.
The twelve-part mass is built
on a cantus firmus derived from
the beginning of the Easter
antiphon Et ecce terrae
motus. Brumel actually
restricts his cantus firmus
material to the first seven
tones of the antiphon. Further
tones are added only in the
cantus firmus of the Agnus
Dei II. Brumel adopted
the G mode from Gregorian
chant. All parts of the mass
were composed in the seventh
mixolydian mode with the
exception of the Christe
and the Agnus Dei II,
both of which constitute
middle sections and end on C
chords.
Although the seven-tone cantus
firmus appears in various kinds
of small configurations, its
basis is a three-voiced canon
in long note values for the
Tenor I and II and the Bass
III parts. Brumel composed the
most sophisticated but also
the most cabbalistic cantus
firmus canon for the Agnus
Dei I. The Tenor II
begins the Et ecce terrae
motus on G
(gg-e-g-a-gg). This passage is
sung a tone higher with each
repetition until the cantus
firmus is finally sung at its
original pitch level
(dd-h-d-e-dd). The Cantus III
and Bassus III parts imitate
this passage exactly: however;
they begin at a fourth above
(c1) and at a fifth below (c).
At the point where the
three-voiced cantus firmus
canon appears, Brumel's
composition is written in
twelve parts. An even more
varied form of twelve-part
writing, alternating between
groups of voices, is employed
by Brumel in some sections
containing no cantus
firmus. Three sections are not
conceived for twelve voices:
the Pleni sunt caeli
and the Benedictus (Sanctus
fragments) are for eight
voices, whereas the Agnus
Dei II is for six
voices. Brumel often employs
changes in tempo indicated by
mensuration signs, which give
the composition a relief-like
structure. Thus, the three
sections of the Kyrie
move in increasingly faster
tempi. The first Kyrie
section is written in a
majestic tempus perfectum,
the Christe section in
a more “down-to-earth” alla
breve, while the final Kyrie
section is notated in a fast tempus
diminutum. The Agnus
Dei I (and consequently,
also the Agnus Dei III)
is composed in this virtuosic,
turbulent mensuration as well.
Apart from the fact that
Brumel's composition contains
the most prominent
architectonic structures in
flamboyant late Gothic art, it
represents, in another sense,
a true stroke of luck.
Brumel's music for this mass
avoids the sonoric qualities
common to the fifteenth
century, such as fauxbourdon
and Burgundian cadential
formulas. Instead, he composes
counterpoint of a very tonal
character, in which, for
example, the third is treated
as a stable consonance. The
fact that Brumel writes the
final chord of the Christe
(on C) with no less than six
E's is characteristic of the
manner in which he employs
thirds in the context of
cadential harmonies. In this
way, Brumel's Et ecce
terrae motus, written in
flamboyant, late-Gothic style
goes beyond the boundaries of
the imitational counterpoint
of his day. The composer could
not have chosen a better
cantus firmus: this
counterpoint is also very
pleasing to the ear.
Brumel was one of the first
composers to write a
polyphonic Requiem Mass. Its
sequence for the Dies
irae, dies illa is the
first recorded polyphonic
setting of this text in the
history of music. Brumel
composed the odd-numbered
verses of the sequence
polyphonically, doing so in
such a Way as to portray fully
both the severity of the text
with its apocalyptic vision,
as well as the meditative
character of the Gregorian
chant. Here, we do not
encounter the enlightened
spirit of the Renaissance as
in the twelve-part mass, but
rather a man of the Middle
Ages with his archaic tonal
language and his subtle
cadences. All polyphonic
cadential chords end on the
open fifth, that is, without a
third. Brumel leaves the
realisation of the
even-numbered verses of the
sequence to the discretion of
the interpreter. These
passages are performed on this
recording employing one of the
many possible methods of
improvisation that the
professional singer of the
fifteenth century had at his
disposal: the fauxbourdon
technique.
Paul
van Nevel
(Translation:
Gery Bramall)
|
|
|