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SORROW, DEATH, AND MUSICAL RHETORIC
IN THE SACRED WORKS OF CARLO GESUALDO
A Dissertation
Presented to
the Committee on Advanced Studies
of the School of Church Music
Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary
Fort Worth, Texas
In Partial Fulfillment
of the Requirements for the Degree
Doctor of Philosophy
by
Barbara Rogers Davis
June 2000
© Copyright by Barbara Rogers Davis 2000

All Rights Reserved
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Copyright 2000 by
Davis, Barbara Rogers
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Ann Arbor, Ml 48106-1346
A Dissertation
Presented to
The Committee on Advanced Studies
Fort Worth, Texas
APPROVED:
First Reader
Second Reader
/y Committee on Advanced Studies
ool of Church Music
ABSTRACT
of
A Dissertation
Presented to
the Committee on Advanced Studies
Fort Worth, Texas
In Partial Fulfillment
of the Requirements for the Degree
Doctor of Philosophy
by
Barbara Rogers Davis
June 2000
© Copyright by Barbara Rogers Davis 2000

All Rights Reserved
ABSTRACT
Most of the studies of Carlo Gesualdo, Prince of Venosa (ca. 1562-1613), have
focused upon his colorful life and his highly chromatic madrigals. Yet Gesualdo also
published three books of sacred music: two volumes of Sacrae cantiones (1603,1, including
settings of antiphons, versicles, responsories, Psalms, and alleluia verses, and a setting of
the liturgical cycle of Responsoria fo r Holy Week (1611). In addition, an earlier motet, Ne
reminiscaris Domine, published in 1585, and Salmi delle compiete, published
posthumously in 1620, are extant Gesualdo’s choice of texts for these works, with their
emphasis on themes of sorrow and death, echo his own mental, physical, and spiritual
torment.
Gesualdo’s compositions constitute a significant portion of the music of the
Italian mannerists, whose works were characterized by the use of distortion and extreme
style to affect the passions of their audience. While Gesualdo’s sacred works are more
moderate in their employment of chromaticism and dissonance than his mature madrigals,
they, too, reveal the influence of musical trends emanating from Ferrara in the late
sixteenth century.
The first three chapters of this study provide background information for a critical
evaluation of Gesualdo’s sacred music, including Gesualdo’s biography, an overview of
Renaissance thought, and a brief history of the madrigal Two chapters examine the
contents and characteristics of Gesualdo’s two sacred collections. Attention is given to
his use of such musical devices as a chromatic motive based upon Vicentino’s chromatic
genera, root movement by thirds, cross relations, unusual intervals, and major and minor
triads in a context rooted in the practices of sixteenth-century counterpoint A final
chapter studies Gesualdo’s use of musical rhetoric in his settings of the recurrent themes
of sorrow and death.
CONTENTS
LIST OF FIGURES .............................................................................................. ix
LIST OF TABLES ................................................................................................ xv
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS.................................................................................. xvi
INTRODUCTION................................................................................................ I
Chapter
1. THE LIFE OF GESUALDO.................................................................. 4
Prince and Murderer
Gesualdo in Ferrara
The Last Years
2. RENAISSANCE THOUGHT................................................................ 25
Humanism vs. Scholasticism
The Church in Renaissance Thought
Chapter
Musical Thought in the Italian Renaissance
A Musical Rebirth
Modes
The Expansion of Musical Space
Consonance and Dissonance

Harmony
3. CHROMATICISM AND MANNERISM IN THE

SIXTEENTH-CENTURY MADRIGAL................................
The Madrigal
Chromaticism and the Transformation of the Modal System
Mannerism
4. THE SACRAE CANTIONES....................................................
Texts
Musical Settings
Text Treatment
Texture
Modality
Influence of Plainchant
Cantus Firmus Treatment
vi
Chapter
Word Painting
Chromaticism
Harmony
5. RESPONSORIA FOR HOLY W EEK........................
Musical Settings
Texture
Imitation
Modality
Harmony
Word Painting
6. GESUALDO’S MUSICAL RHETORIC AND THE

THEMES OF SORROW AND D E A T H ................
Music and Emotion
Music and Symbolism
Music and Rhetoric
Chapter Page
Themes of Sorrow and Death
Sinfulness of Man
Sorrow
Death
CONCLUSION.......................................................................................................... 241
BIBLIOGRAPHY...................................................................................................... 248
viii
FIGURES
Figure Page
1. Moro, lasso, mm 1-3.................................................................................. 83
2. Moro,lasso, mm. 3-10 ................................................................................ 84
3. Moro,lasso, mm. 10-15 .............................................................................. 85
4. Moro,lasso, mm. 36-42 .............................................................................. 86
5. Domine, ne despicias, mm. 21-47 ................................................................ 98
6. Ave, dulcissima Maria, mm. 1 -9 ................................................................. 99
7. Veni Creator spiritus, mm. 1 -1 0 .................................................................. 100
8. Reminiscere miserationum tuarum, mm. 1-12 ........................................... 101
9. Gaudeamus omnes, mm. 1-10...................................................................... 103
10. Ave, Regina coelorum, mm. 27-31 ............................................................. 104
11. Ave sanctissima Maria, mm. 1-3................................................................. 108
12. Plainchant, Venit lumen naan (LU 463) ..................................................... 109
13. Venit Itanen naan, mm. 1 -1 0 ........................................................................ 109
14. Venit lumen tiaan, mm. 16-19...................................................................... 110
15. Plainchant, Hei mihi, Domine (LU 1 7 9 1 )................................................... 110
16. Hei mihi, Domine, mm. 1-11........................................................................ Ill
ix
17. Plainchant, Da pacem Domine QAJ 18 67)................................................. 112
18. Da pacem Domine, mm. 1-16..................................................................... 113
19. Plainchant, Assumpta est Maria (LU1 6 0 5 )................................................ 114
20. Assumpta est Maria, mm. 1-17................................................................... 115
21. Domine, corda nostra, mm. 26-38 ............................................................. 116
22. O Crux benedicta, mm. 22-26 .................................................................... 117
23. O Crux benedicta, mm. 37-41.................................................................... 117
24. Tribularer si nescirem, mm. 46-61.............................................................. 118
25. O Oriens, splendor, mm. 1-10 .................................................................. 119
26. 0 Oriens, splendor, mm. 40-45 ................................................................ 120
27. Domine, ne despicias, mm. 11-14............................................................... 122
28. Ave, dulcissima Maria, mm. 14-17............................................................ 121
29. Ave, Regina coelorum, mm. 49-60 ............................................................ 124
30. O Oriens, splendor, mm. 54-63 .................................................................. 125
31. Ave sanctissima Maria, mm. 1-6................................................................. 126
32. Domine, corda nostra, mm. 37-38 ............................................................. 126
33. Reminiscere miserationum tuarum, mm.13-15 ........................................... 127
34. Hei mihi, Domine, mm. 48-49 ..................................................................... 127
35. Ave, Regina coelorum, mm. 46-50 ............................................................. 128
36. Ave, dulcissima Maria, mm. 27-33 ............................................................ 132
37. O vos omnes, mm. 1-8 .............................................................................. 133
38. Peccantem m equotidie,m m .\-3................................................................. 134
39. Ave, dulcissima Maria, mm. 51-56............................................................. 134
40. 0 Crux benedicta, mm. 54-56 ..................................................................... 135
41. Peccantem me quotidie, mm. 55-75 ............................................................. 136
42. Laboravi gemitu meo, mm. 58-60 ............................................................... 137
43. O Oriens, splendor, mm. 58-63 ................................................................. 138
44. Aestimatus, mm. 23-29 .............................................................................. 146
45. Animam meam dilectam, mm. 26-30 ........................................................... 147
46. Jerusalem, surge, mm. 1-11 ...................................................................... 148
47. Eram quasi agnus innocens, mm. 62-71..................................................... 149
48. Amicus meus osculi, mm. 1 -6 ..................................................................... 150
49. Jesum tradidit impius, mm. 1-11................................................................. 151
50. Vmea mea electa, mm. 1-17......................................................................... 152
51. In Monte Oliveti, mm. 54-58 ....................................................................... 153
52. Ecce vidimus eum, mm. 43-53..................................................................... 154
53. Plainchant, Tristis est anima mea (LU 6 3 5 ) ............................................... 155
54. Tristis est anima mea, mm 1-6................................................................... 155
55. Plainchant, Astiterunt reges (LU 771)......................................................... 156
56. Astiterunt reges, mm. 1-20 ........................................................................ 156
xi
57. O vos omnes, mm. 1-14 ............................................................................. 163
58. Sicut ovis, mm. 49-61 ................................................................................. 164
59. Ecce videmus eian, mm. 54-64 ................................................................... 165
60. Velum templi, mm 24-28.............................................................................. 166
61. Plcmge quasi virgo, mm. 30-34 ................................................................... 166
62. Una hora non potuistis, mm. 43-45 ........................................................... 167
64. Eram quasi agnus innocens, mm. 1-18....................................................... 168
65. Tenebrae factae sunt, mm. 3-10 ................................................................. 169
66. Anitnam meam dilectam, mm. 1-4............................................................... 170
68. Eram quasi agnus innocens, mm. 82-86 ..................................................... 171
69. Salmi delle compiete, mm. 1-12................................................................... 173
70. Miserere, mm. 1-10..................................................................................... 175
71. Benedictus, mm. 1-11 ................................................................................. 176
72. Omnes am id mei, mm. 1 - 5 ......................................................................... 177
73. Omnes amici mei, mm. 6 -1 8 ....................................................................... 178
74. Velum templi, mm. 1-6.................................................................................. 179
75. Velum templi, mm 7-13................................................................................ 179
76. Velum templi, mm. 39-43 .............................................................................. 180
xii
77. Sepulto Domino, nun. 1 - 5 ............................................................................ 180
78. Recessit pastor noster, mm. 1-6 .................................................................. 181
79. Tenebraefactae sunt, mm. 1-3 .................................................................. 182
80. Tenebraefactae sunt, mm. 20-40 .............................................................. 183
81. Tenebraefactae sunt, mm. 41-47 .............................................................. 184
82. Tradiderunt me, mm. 20-27 ...................................................................... 202
83. Ave, Regina coelorum, mm. 46-60 ............................................................ 206
84. Ave, dulcissima Maria, mm. 28-33 ............................................................. 207
85. Ave, dulcissima Maria, mm. 33-44 ............................................................. 208
86. Peccantem me quotidie, mm. 1-5................................................................. 209
87. Ave sanctissima Maria, mm. 57-74 ............................................................. 210
88. O anima sanctissima, mm. 28 -3 1 .............................................................. 211
89. Una hora non potuistis, mm.42-56 ............................................................ 212
90. Hei mihi, Domine, mm. 33-38 ..................................................................... 213
91. Peccantem me quotidie, mm. 55-64 ............................................................. 214
92. Miserere, mm. 1-10.................................................................................... 215
93. Tribulationem et dolorem inveni, mm. 1-18 ............................................... 217
94. O vos omnes, mm. 15-28 ........................................................................... 219
95. Caligaverunt occuli mei, mm. 61-78 ........................................................... 220
96. 0 vos omnes, mm. 15-31 ........................................................................... 221
97. Jerusalem, surge, mm. 16-25 .................................................................... 222
98. Discedite a me omnes, mm. 48-59 ............................................................... 223
99. Ardens est cor meum, mm. 27-32 ............................................................... 224
100. 0 anima sanctissima, mm. 47-49 ............................................................... 224
101. Caligaverunt occuli mei, mm. 6 -1 2 ............................................................. 225
102. Jerusalem, surge, mm. 36-53 .................................................................... 226
103. O anima sanctissima, mm. 41-48 ............................................................... 227
104. Domine, ne despicias, mm. 41-47 ............................................................... 228
105. Maria, mater gratiae, mm. 37-48 ............................................................... 229
106. Maria, mater gratiae, mm. 50-60 ............................................................... 230
107. Virgo benedicta, mm. 54-59 ....................................................................... 231
108. 0 Oriens, splendor, mm. 47-63 ................................................................. 232
109. Aestimatus, mm. 34-49................................................................................. 233
110. Benedictus, mm. 66-71 ............................................................................... 234
111. 0 sacrum convivium, mm. 24-35 ............................................................... 235
112. Tristis est anima mea, mm. 33-47 ............................................................... 237
113. Sicut ovis, mm. 25-38 ................................................................................. 239
xiv
TABLES
Table Page
1. Contents of the five-voice Sacrae cantiones indicating mode........................ 105
2. Contents of the six- and seven-voice Sacrae cantiones indicating mode 106
3. Cadential points in 0 vos omnes ................................................................. 107
4. Pitch centers and vocal requirements for the Responsoria

for Maundy Thursday .............................................................................. 158

for Good Friday ........................................................................................ 159

for Holy Saturday .................................................................................... 160
xv
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Musical examples are taken from Carlo Gesualdo di Venosa - Samtliche Werke
Copyright by Deutscher Verlagfur Musik, Leipzig

With kind permission of the publisher.
INTRODUCTION
The story of Carlo Gesualdo, Prince of Venosa (ca. 1562-1613), is one of the most
colorful in the history of music. Many documents and literary writings of the late
sixteenth century chronicle his murder of his unfaithful wife and her lover. The remainder
of his life was spent in a deepening state of melancholy that was reflected in his bold
musical language.
While Gesualdo’s life story is one that is often told, there has been little technical
dissection of his musical style. Although his highly chromatic madrigals have received the
most attention, three books of sacred music by the composer were published during his
life. The first of these, published in 1603, were two volumes of Sacrae cantiones, one for
five voices, the other for six and seven voices. The thirty-nine motets in these volumes
include settings of antiphons, versicles, responsories, Psalms, and alleluia verses. The
third book, published in 1611, set the liturgical cycle of Responsoria for Holy Week. In
addition, an earlier motet, Ne reminiscaris Domine, published in 1585, and Salmi delle
compiete, published posthumously in 1620, are extant
Gesualdo’s compositions constitute a significant portion of a relatively untapped
body of work by composers and other artists who were connected with the city of
Ferrara during the late sixteenth century. The works of these artists, generally known as
2
mannerists, were characterked by their use of distortion and extreme style to affect the
passions of their audience. Not only was Gesualdo one of the best-known composers of
the Ferrarese group, he was a prince with no patron to please and with publishers ready
to do his bidding. This freedom allowed him to explore fully the musical devices and
innovations only suggested in the works of his contemporaries. While the sacred works
are more moderate in their employment of chromaticism and dissonance than Gesualdo’s
mature madrigals, they, too, reveal the influence of musical trends emanating from Ferrara
in the late sixteenth century. As important and daring representatives of the works of this
group of artists, Gesualdo’s sacred compositions provide further insight into their
innovations as well as their place in music history.
An examination of Gesualdo’s sacred works also fills a void in the understanding
and appreciation of the composer’s contribution to the literature. Not only are these
works exemplary of Gesualdo’s unique perspective on the musical ideals and innovations
of his era, they are also somewhat autobiographical. His choice of texts, with their
emphasis on themes of sorrow and death, echo his own mental, physical, and spiritual
torment
The first three chapters of this study provide background information for a critical
evaluation of Gesualdo’s sacred music. Following the colorful and tragic story of
Gesualdo’s life is an overview of Renaissance thought and a brief history of the
development of the madrigal. Two chapters examine the contents and characteristics of
the two collections. A final chapter studies the expression and experience of emotion in
3
music, the use of symbolism in music, and the use of musical rhetoric at the turn of the
seventeenth century to provide a foundation for a deeper understanding of the
composer’s individual language. Finally, Gesualdo’s use of musical rhetoric in his setting*;
of the recurrent themes of sorrow and death is explored.
CHAPTER 1
THE LIFE OF GESUALDO
Like other Italian cities of the sixteenth century, Naples and its surrounding
villages had a class of noble families.1 His most Illustrious and Serene Highness Don
Carlo, third prince of Venosa, eighth Count of Consa, fifteenth Lord of Gesualdo,
Marquis of Laino, Rotondo, and S. Stefano, Duke of Caggiono, Lord of Frigento,
Aquaputida, Patemo, S. Manco, Boneto, Luceria, S. Lupolo, etc. was descended from one
of the oldest noble families in Neapolitan history.2
The village of Gesualdo lies in the foothills east of Naples. On a hill above the
town is the castle of Gesualdo, built in the seventh century as a fortress. Gesualdo
received its autonomous status in the eleventh century and was ruled by a series of Lords,
Barons, and Princes of Gesualdo from that time until 1636.3
iPaul Kristeller, “The Moral Thought of Renaissance Humanism,” in Renaissance

Thought II (New York: Harper and Row, 1965), 47.
2Cecil Gray and Philip Heseltine, Carlo Gesualdo, Prince o f Venosa: Musician
and Murderer (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co., 1926; reprint, Westport,
CT: Greenwood Press, 1971), 3.
3Glenn Watkins, Gesualdo: The Man and His Music, 2d ed. (Oxford: Clarendon,
1991), 3.
5
Through a series of marriages, the family acquired titles and property, eventually
giving the head of the Gesualdo family control of a substantial fiefdom.4
When Luigi Gesualdo, Carlo’s grandfather, married Isabella Ferillo, daughter of
Alfonso, the second Count of Muro, he received from her a considerable dowry, including
the Lordship of Venosa. King Philip of Spain granted Luigi the title Prince of Venosa in
1561 on the occasion of the marriage of his son, Fabrizio, Carlo’s father, to Girolama
Borromeo, sister of Carlo Borromeo and niece of Pope Pius IV.5
Prince and M urderer
Carlo was the second of four children bom to Fabrizio and Girolama No evidence
indicates a specific date of birth, but it has been generally assumed that Carlo was bom
sometime between 1560 and 1562. However, a letter uncovered by Karl Fischer during a
study of the Neapolitan madrigal collection Teatro de madrigali (1609) suggests a date as
late as 1566.6
Although little is known about Don Carlo's early years, it is certain that his
lifelong passion for music was nourished by the musicmaking at the house of Gesualdo.
Don Fabrizio maintained a group of choice musicians and may have been a musician and
4Ibid.
sibid., 4.
sibid., 296.
6
composer himself. Among the musicians associated with the house of Gesualdo were
Pomponio Nenna, a composer generally considered to be Gesualdo’s teacher, Giovanni de
Macque, a composer, Scipione Stella, the composer who edited Gesualdo’s first two
books of madrigals for their second publication; Fabrizio Filamarino, a composer and
lutenist; and Scipione Dentice, who published at least five books of madrigals.8
As the second son, Carlo was not heir to the family title or estates and was free to
indulge himself in his love of music. The death of his older brother, Luigi, in 1585 brought
other responsibilities, and, as the new Prince of Venosa, Don Carlo was obliged to marry
and produce an heir. At a time when nobility usually married at an extremely early age, it
seems likely that the new prince, almost thirty years of age and still unmarried, preferred
music to matrimony.9
Within the year a marriage was arranged with Donna Maria d’Avalos, Don Carlo’s
first cousin, who was reputed to be a woman of great beauty. In her mid-twenties, Donna
Maria was already twice widowed. Because the period of mourning for the death of her
second husband had not yet elapsed, the family had to obtain a papal dispensation for her
marriage to Don Carlo.10 Don Carlo and Donna Maria were married in 1586 in the church
7Ibid., 4-5.
8Ibid., 5. Watkins regards Nenna as an unlikely teacher because he was only about
seven years older than Gesualdo and considers Macque to be a more likely possibility.
9Gray and Heseltine, Carlo Gesualdo, 11.
10Watkins, Gesualdo, 6.
of San Domenico Maggiore in Naples.11 For three or four years the marriage seems to
have been a happy one, and the couple had a sor Emmanuele.12
The happy years ended with the events of October 1590. Numerous
contemporary writings recount the tragic incident that darkened the remainder of the
Prince’s life and for which he is best remembered. Although the details presented in these
accounts differ, the main points of the story are quite clear.
After a few years of marriage to the Prince, Donna Maria began to encounter Don
Fabrizio Carafa, Duke of Andria, at dances and festivities. As their attraction for each
other grew, they first sent messages by faithful messengers, then began meeting in secret
The lovers were so enchanted with each other that they continued meeting even after they
had been discovered.
Don Carlo made plans for retaliation. After ensuring that the castle doors of Palace
Sansevero, where Gesualdo and his wife stayed when they were in Naples, would remain
unlocked, the Prince let it be known that he was going hunting and would not return until
the next day. Later that same night, he returned to the castle with several armed men who
were his relatives. Upon finding the lovers in the bedroom, the Prince and his men killed
them and mutilated the bodies. One source, known as the Corona MS, the credibility of
which is questionable because of its sensationalism, relates that Don Carlo and his men
even dragged the corpses onto the hallway stairs, where they remained the following
nibid., 7.
8
morning while people from the surrounding area came to see them.13 A thorough
investigation of the episode followed. Because of the circumstances in which he found his
wife and likely in part because of his high-ranking position, Don Carlo escaped
punishment by the law.14
After a while Don Carlo returned to his residence in Gesualdo, and little was seen
of him. Fearing retribution from Donna Maria’s relatives, Don Carlo kept careful watch
from his castle, even cutting down the forests near the grounds so they could not conceal
those who might seek to harm him.15
The remainder of Gesualdo’s life was scarred by this lurid episode. Almost
immediately his grief and repentance were evident. Shortly after the tragedy, the
composer built a Capuchin monastery with a chapel, S. Maria delle Grazie, as an act of
penance. The painting that hangs in the chapel, the only known portrait of the Prince,
provides a glimpse into the dark recesses of his tortured soul.16 In the painting the
l3Watkins, Gesualdo, 12.
i*Both Watkins, Gesualdo, 40, and Denis Stevens, “Gesualdo in a New Light,”
Musical Times 103 (May 1962): 332, observed that such an act as Don Carlo’s was
certainly not unique.
15Gray andHeseltine, Carlo Gesualdo, 36.
16Watkins, Gesualdo, 31-32.
9
repentant composer kneels before Christ with a number of personages interceding for him
Gray and Heseltine provide the following description.17
At the top and in the centre of the picture the Redeemer is sitting in judgment,
His right hand upraised in the act of pardoning the guilty and contrite Prince who
is kneeling humbly in the lower lefthand side of the painting. On his right is sitting
the Blessed Virgin Mary, who, with her right hand, is pointing to the sinner for
whom she is interceding. On the left hand of the Saviour stands the archangel
Michael who, with the right hand, is similarly pointing to Gesualdo for whom he
is imploring pardon. Slightly lower down, on the left side of the picture, is Saint
Francis, with both arms and hands outstretched in an attitude of supplication for
the repentant sinner, and opposite to him is Saint Domenic, likewise invoking the
divine Mercy. Below Francis is the Magdalene, the vessel of perfume at her side,
who, with her face turned towards Gesualdo, seems to be exhorting him to trust in
the Divine mercy of Our Lord whom she indicates to Don Carlo with both hands.
Similarly, opposite to her is Saint Catherine of Siena, looking up towards the
Redeemer and pointing out to him the suppliant sinner. Finally, in the lower
section of the painting is the Prince himself, dressed in the Spanish fashion,
kneeling bareheaded, while Saint Carlo Borromeo, Archbishop ofMilan-his
maternal uncle, by the way—attired in his Cardinal’s robes, places his right arm
protectingly on his erring nephew’s shoulder, with his face turned towards the
divine Redeemer in the act of presenting him. Opposite, on the right, kneels a
Franciscan nun with her hands raised in a gesture of supplication, whose
identity is somewhat uncertain, though she is undoubtedly intended to represent
some member of the family.
At the bottom of the painting are the flames of Purgatory. Two figures, probably Donna
Maria and the Duke of Andria, are being lifted from the flames. Already risen from the
flames is the figure of a child, “with both hands pointing upward at right angles, possibly
in a posture of innocence.”18
17Gray and Heseltine, Carlo Gesualdo, 41-42.
isWatkins, Gesualdo, 33.
10
The identity of the child is perplexing. According to village tradition, Donna Maria
had given birth to another child after Don Emmanuele. Gesualdo believed that he
recognized in the child certain features of the Duke and “in a state of mental frenzy” had
the infant shaken to death.19 There is no record of the birth of another child; however, if
this legend is based upon truth, one can assume that such an incident would precipitate
further psychological disintegration. Because Don Emmanuele died in his late twenties
only months before his father’s death in 1613, and a second child, Alfonsino, by
Gesualdo’s second wife, Leonora d’Este, died in infancy eight years after the completion
of the monastery, neither seems a likely candidate for the infant in the painting/0
The painting reveals something of the agony suffered by the composer, his fear for
the salvation o f his soul, and his desire for repentance and forgiveness. Although the
evidence does not indicate that Don Carlo’s entire life was given to preoccupation with
the murder, the event cast a ominous shadow over him. The threads of grief that ran
through Don Carlo’s life were manifested by an increasingly cruel temperament and
I91bid., 34.
20lbid., 34-35. Watkins infers that the painting was commissioned for the chapel
and considers it improbable that it would have been commissioned after Gesualdo's
second marriage. He suggests that the figure might represent Cupid. Lorenzo Bianconi,
“Gesualdo, Carlo,” The New Grove Dictionary o f Music and Musicians, ed. Stanley Sadie,
20 vols. (London: Macmillan, 1980), 7:314-15, states that Gesualdo commissioned the
painting after the death of his second son, Alfonsino, in 1600, and that the child depicted
is Alfonsino. Carlo Piccardi, “Carlo Gesualdo: I’aristocrazia come elezione,” Rivista
Italiana di musicologia 9 (1974): 77, supports the later date as well, suggesting that the
kneeling figure in the comer of the painting is Leonora and the infant, Alfonsino.
11
damage to his physical and mental health. More importantly for this study, the themes of
sorrow and death permeated both the text and the music of his sacred and secular works.
Don Carlo probably remained at his estate in Gesualdo from late 1590 until 1594
indulging his passion for music. Because musical composition was not seen as a fitting
occupation for a prince, his composition had previously been cultivated in secrecy. His
first book of madrigals, in fact, was originally published under the name of Gioseppi
Pilonij. Because of the notoriety created by the murder, his passion for music became well
known.21
Gesualdo in Ferrara
Gesualdo’s second marriage, to Leonora d’Este of Ferrara, was politically
motivated, but Gesualdo’s association with Ferrara and the Este court proved invaluable
to him as a composer. Since the fifteenth century, courts had sought higher status by
acquiring artistic and intellectual talent Ferrara dominated the closing period of the
Renaissance in Italy, and for decades the Este court had been known as one of the shining
jewels of Europe. Its patronage of the arts was legendary. Among the musicians who
had been associated with Ferrara was Josquin, whose Missa Hercules Dux Ferrariae was
2iBianconi, “Gesualdo, Carlo,” The New Grove, 7:313.
22For more information on music in this magnificent city of the Renaissance, see
Lewis Lockwood, Music in Renaissance Ferrara, 1400-1505: The Creation o f a Musical
Center in the Fifteenth Century (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1984) and
Anthony Newcomb, The Madrigal at Ferrara, 1579-1597, 2 vols. (Princeton, NJ:
Princeton University Press, 1980).
12
based on a soggetto cavato from the name of the Duke of Ferrara whom he served. Both
Luca Marenzio and Palestrina had been maestro di capella to the Cardinal Ippolito
d’Este. John Dowiand visited the court sometime between 1585 and 1595.23 Other
composers who served in the house of Este included Obrecht, Isaac, Willaert, Rore,
Brumel, Vicentino, Isnardi, Luzzaschi, and Lassus.24 Also in Ferrara were the concerto
delle donne, the famous singing ladies, who were as often praised for their beauty as for
their virtuosity, and the sisters of San Silvestro and of San Vito whom Gesualdo heard in
the festivities following his marriage to Leonora d’Este.25
The court at Ferrara enjoyed daily concerts. The Duke, Alfonso II, maintained an
extensive music library and a music room in which instruments were kept in tune by
musicians employed solely for that purpose. Among these instruments was the
arcicembalo that Nicola Vicentino made for that court and upon which he displayed the
compositional viability of the three Greek genera}6
Luzzaschi, for whose music Gesualdo expressed admiration, was employed by the
court of Este, and the music of Ferrara, known for its harmonic experimentation, must
have resonated with Gesualdo's own compositional tendencies. The poets associated
23Gray and Heseltine, Carlo Gesualdo, 46-47.
25Ibid., 52.
26Ibid., 54.
13
with the popularity of the Italian madrigal, Tasso and Guarini, were also connected with
the court of Ferrara. Whether or not Gesualdo relished the notion of another marriage, he
must have eagerly anticipated his association with this city. Indeed, that connection had
great impact upon his work.
The marriage of Don Carlo Gesualdo to Leonora d’Este, which provided the
reason for the Prince’s travels to Ferrara in late 1593, was one of political convenience for
both the Prince and the ducal court of Alfonso n. The duchy was originally ceded to the
Este family by the Pope, and papal decree forbade the succession of any but a legitimate
descendant of Alfonso I. If Alfonso n, the only heir of Alfonso I, failed to produce an
heir, the duchy of Ferrara would revert to the Papacy. At the age of forty-five, twice
widowed and with no heirs, the Duke married a third time. This union, too, proved to be
unfruitful.27 In an attempt to secure Ferrara for the Este family, Alfonso petitioned the
Pope, requesting that, in the absence of an heir, the rule of the Estes would be allowed to
continue through another branch of the family. Just when Pope Gregory XTV was at the
point of accepting the claim, Alfonso pressed his requirements a bit too far, and
negotiations stopped. Pope Gregory suddenly died, and his successor, Clement VUI, was
opposed to the Este succession in Ferrara.28
27Newcomb, The Madrigal at Ferrara, 1:105. Newcomb notes that Alfonso II

placed great faith in the prediction of a French astrologer that he would have an heir by
his third wife after he was fifty.
28Ibid.
14
Among those appointed by the Pope to study the investiture was Cardinal
Alfonso Gesualdo, Don Carlo’s paternal uncle.29 When Alfonso Gesualdo proved to be
an obstacle in the Este plan, the Duke began to explore the possibility of a marriage
between the Cardinal’s nephew and Leonora d’Este, a cousin of Alfonso EL The contract
of their marriage was signed in 1593.30
In late 1593, Gesualdo set out from the castle at Gesualdo for Ferrara, traveling
with a sizeable entourage, which included at least two musicians from his camerata. The
Este ambassador in Rome mentioned Gesualdo’s arrival in that city in December 1593,
reporting that Gesualdo was willing to live where Alfonso wanted him to and that he had
with him a court of about ninety people and enough money to stay for three years. The
ambassador observed that the Prince seemed to be an accomplished nobleman. Of Don
Carlo as a musician he reported, “He appears, however, to be lost in music, since he talks
of and desires nothing else. I understand that he plays the lute, the harpsichord, and the
guitar and that he is a fine composer as well.”31 The ambassador concluded by saying that
Gesualdo was not a man of many ceremonies and would “tell Your Highness his opinions
in few words.”32 Further insight into Gesualdo’s obsession with music and his noble
30Ibid., 40.
31Anthony Newcomb, “Carlo Gesualdo and a Musical Correspondence of 1594,”

The Musical Quarterly 54, no. 4 (October 1968): 411.
32Ibid.
15
station come from a letter written by the composer Emilio Cavalieri, whom the Prince
also met while he was in Rome. Cavalieri reported, “The Prince of Venosa, who would
like to do nothing but sing and play music, today forced me to visit with him and kept me
for seven hours. After this, I believe I shall hear no music for two months.”33
Gesualdo’s entourage was joined in February of 1594 by the musician and
composer Alfonso Fontanelli, sent by Duke Alfonso II to escort Gesualdo to Ferrara and
keep the Duke informed of the progress and arrival time of the Prince’s retinue. The
letters written by Fontanelli to the Duke document the journey and provide more insight
into the character of the Prince and his attitudes toward music.34
Fontanelli was thirty-seven years old when he met Gesualdo. Considered by his
peers to be a musician of some ability, he had published his first madrigal in 1592.35 A
nobleman like Gesualdo, he could not openly admit that he was professionally pursuing
music. His first book of madrigals was published by Vittorio Baldini in 1595 with no
mention of the composer’s name.36
In his first letter to the Duke, Fontanelli related, ‘Tie talks about hunting and
about music and declares himself master of the one and of the other. He entered into no
33Ibid.
34lbid., 410.
35lbid., 412.
36Ibid.
16
long discussions with me about hunting, since he found no great response on that subject;
but about music he told me more than I have heard in an entire year.”37
According to Fontanelli, Gesualdo talked openly and enthusiastically about music
and showed his works in score to everyone; he carried with him two set of books
containing his own works in five voices.38 Fontanelli reported that Gesualdo claimed to
have abandoned his first style and begun to imitate Luzzaschi, whom he admired greatly.
Fontanelli refrained from giving his opinion regarding Gesualdo’s music, but admitted, “It
is clear that his art is infinite. He strikes attitudes, however, and moves about in an
extraordinary fashion.”39
Gesualdo’s entrance into Ferrara on February 19, 1594, began a series of
festivities celebrating the impending wedding. With considerable music in keeping with
the Ferrarese custom, it was one of the last large-scale celebrations before the Duchy of
Ferrara passed into memory.40 On February 20th the Duke gave a banquet for the bride
and bridegroom that included a twenty-course meal and displays of jousting. After the
festivities, the revelers retired until the afternoon of February 21, when the Prince sent for
37Ibid.,411.
38IbicL, 413-14. Newcomb observed that this was an improper attitude for a
nobleman.
39Ibid., 414-15.
17
the Bishop of Ferrara, who married the couple without pomp or ceremony. An evening
dance followed as did days of concerts and further celebratioa41
In May 1594 Gesualdo left Ferrara without his wife to return to Gesualdo. Once
again he was accompanied by Fontanelli, who dutifully reported events of the journey to
Duke Alfonso II. The entourage passed through Venice, a city Gesualdo had not
previously visited. According to Fontanelli, Gesualdo spent his time studying music and
marvelling at the city. Although he traveled incognito, he received the visit of die Patriarch
of Venice at the request of his uncle, the influential Cardinal Gesualdo. City officials
brought refreshments to him and perhaps intended to provision the ship for his journey
down the east coast of Italy.42 Gesualdo probably met Giovanni Gabrieli during his stay
in Venice. Fontanelli’s third letter reported that Gesualdo had not yet met Gabrieli, but
that Gesualdo was “laying so many traps for him that finally he, too, will fall into the
nets.”43 Gesualdo composed continually and finished two madrigals. According to
Fontanelli, Gesualdo “intends to come to Ferrara surrounded by such thick fortifications
of works (these were the terms he used) that he will be able to defend himself against
Luzzaschi. This latter is the only enemy he fears, he says; the others he laughs a t”44
41Ibid., 48-51.
42Newcomb, "A Musical Correspondence," 418.
43Ibid., 424.
44Ibid.
18
On June 14 Fontanelli tells of their arrival in Venosa and Gesualdo, which he
describes as “a pleasant place (and not very much visited), pretty to the eye as much as
one could wish with truly gentle and healthy air. One could see from here many other
properties of the Prince, who, from what I can see, has a very big state and very devoted
servants.”45 In his next letter, sent June 25,1594, from Naples, Fontanelli apprised the
Duke of Gesualdo’s compositional activities: “He has already composed five or six
cunningly contrived madrigals, a motet, and an aria, and has made good progress on a
dialogue for three sopranos, made, I believe, for your ladies.”46
Don Carlo’s journey to Gesualdo and back to Ferrara turned out to be a long one,
requiring the remainder of the year. Letters from Fontanelli tell of constant musicmaking,
the grand reputation of the Ferrarese court in Naples, and the Neapolitans’ admiration for
Luzzaschi. Don Carlo finally returned to Ferrara in December of 1594. He and Donna
Leonora stayed there for the next two years, the most productive time in Gesualdo’s
musical career. His first two books of madrigals were published there, and his third and
fourth books were both composed and published in Ferrara.
The Last Years
The man described by Fontanelli in his letters of 1594 is a happy prince, although
one who was certainly obsessed with music. Upon his return to Ferrara, however, there
46Newcomb, “A Musical Correspondence,” 426. Fontanelli’s mention of “your

ladies” undoubtedly refers to the famed concerto delle donne of Ferrara.
19
are indications that all was not well with Gesualdo. Dining the two years that he and his
wife remained in Ferrara, Leonora gave birth to a boy, Alfonsino. During that time reports
circulated of the Prince’s amorous adventures and maltreatment of his new wife.47
At some point, the Prince returned to Gesualdo, and, not surprisingly, Leonora
did not accompany him. Beginning in February 1597, Gesualdo wrote to the Duke that he
wanted his wife to join him in Gesualdo, declining to return to Ferrara to retrieve her due
to his own bad health and warnings from his physician that the travel would aggravate his
asthmatic condition.48 Finally, possibly fearing rumors in Neapolitan society, Leonora
went to Gesualdo.
In October Duke Alfonso II died without leaving any heirs, and the city passed
into the hands of the popes. As Gray and Heseltine observed, “With him died the Italian
Renaissance; the sunset or afterglow which had shed such a d a rlin g radiance died out,
giving place to the all-pervading twilight of the Catholic Revival, or Counter-
Reformation.”49
Letters from Leonora to her brothers Cesare, who became Duke of Modena when
the ducal seat was transferred there after Ferrara returned to the Papacy, and Alessandro
indicate the Princess’s continued unhappiness. Her letters provide an account of the
deterioration of Gesualdo's state of mind. He had become very brutal to Leonora, beating
48Ibid.
20
her and causing her to give up the desire to live.50 When the brothers suggested that she
divorce the Prince, she refused; she also opposed their offer to contact Cardinal Alfonso,
Archbishop of Naples and Gesualdo’s paternal uncle.51
Late in 1600 Alfonsino, the only son of Carlo and Leonora, died.52 Don Carlo did
not allow his wife to visit her family in Modena during her grief, and her physical and
psychological sufferings increased.53 In 1607, the Duke once again invited his sister to
Modena. Once again, Don Carlo opposed the visit, citing the difficulties involved in such
a journey and his own continuing illness. In addition, he probably wanted her to remain in
Gesualdo for the wedding of Don Emmanuele in October of 1607, for after the wedding,
she left for Modena. Immediately upon her return to Gesualdo, the Princess became
seriously ill.54
Little is known of Gesualdo’s musical activity from 1596 until his death in 1613.
His last two books of madrigals and his Responsoria were published in 1611. Whether the
composer worked on these continually after leaving Ferrara or interrupted his madrigal
51Ibid
52Ibid, 77.
53Ibid, 79.
54Ibid, 79-80.
21
composition while developing the mature style of these collections is unknown.55 That he
did not remain inactive after returning to Gesualdo is evidenced by his two books of
Sacrae ccmtiones published in 1603.
Even less is known of his personal life. Nothing is known of any travels by Don
Carlo following his return to Gesualdo; presumably he confined himself to the castle at
Gesualdo and nearby Naples. A letter dated March 1613 from Andrea Pierbenedetti di
Camerino, Bishop of Venosa to Federico Borromeo, Archbishop of Milan suggests that
Emmanuele Gesualdo had gradually taken over management of the family estate56
A letter from Gesualdo dated October 1610 informs Frederico Borromeo that, due
to the severity of his illness, he would not be able to attend the canonization ceremonies
for his uncle, Carlo Borromeo, held in November of that year 57 Further correspondence
between the two, carried out through the following two years, lends credence to
speculation that Gesualdo, perhaps sensing his own demise was near, became morbidly
obsessed with death. In his letters, Gesualdo was persistent in his request for relics of
Carlo Borromeo, and specifically requested that Frederico Borromeo send him a portrait
of the newly canonized saint58
55Ibid., 165.
56piccardi, “Carlo Gesualdo,” 76-77.
57IbicL, 70-71.
ssibid., 70-81.
22
Very little additional information survives regarding the Prince and Princess until
Don Carlo's death in September of 1613. There was much speculation that the Prince was
murdered. Certainly the Princess had cause, but, as Watkins suggests, it seems unlikely
that she would murder a man she would not divorce. Another possible suspect was the
wife of Gesualdo’s son, Emmanuele. Don Emmanuele died shortly before Don Carlo, and
Emmanuele’s wife strongly contested the Prince’s will, which forced Leonora to give up
many of her claims.59
Yet there is evidence that Don Carlo suffered from a variety of ailments that could
have caused or hastened his death. In his letters, Gesualdo had cited bad health as an
excuse to refrain from travel. His symptoms indicate that he was violently asthmatic.60
Other afflictions seem to have resulted from his tortured state of mind. Contemporary
writings relate that, in addition to the tragedies of having murdered his first wife and of
surviving two sons, Gesualdo suffered tremendous personal torment. A letter from
Michele Giustiniani to Giulio Giustiniani, procurator of S. Marco, indicated that the
Prince’s death was hastened by a strange illness, which made it soothing for him to be
given blows on the temple and other parts of the body.61 A chronicle titled Ravine di
Case Napolitane des suo tempo by Don Ferrante della Marra confirms the letter:
“Through the agency of God he was afflicted by a vast horde of demons which gave him
60IbicL
eilbid., 82-83.
23
no peace for many days on end unless ten or twelve young men, whom he kept specially
for the purpose, were to beat him violently three times a day, during which operation he
was wont to smile joyfully.”62
Don Carlo Gesualdo, Prince of Venosa, was buried in the church of Gesu Nuovo
in Naples. Gesualdo’s will called for the construction of a chapel in the Gesu Nuovo. In
addition, he provided for the care of the castle in Gesualdo, the celebration of one
thousand masses, the completion of the Church of SS. Rosario in Gesualdo, and the
erection of a church in honor of his uncle, Saint Carlo Borromeo.63 More importantly, he
asked for divine forgiveness and the intercession of the Holy Mother and the Saints,
many of whom appear in the painting in the chapel of S. Maria delle Grazie di Gesualdo.
He also requested that perpetual alms be given to the friars of S. Maria delle Grazie di
Gesualdo.64
Leonora remained in Gesualdo for two years, spending much of her time carrying
out the provisions of the will before returning to Modena in 1615. For her last years she
lived a contemplative life. When she died in 1637, she was buried seventy-six miles from
her husband.65
64Ibid
65IbicL, 88-89.
24
Carlo Gesualdo gained notoriety as both a musician and murderer. His obsession
with music first surfaced during his youth and continued throughout his life. His
obsessive behavior was not confined to his study of music, however. The murder of his
first wife and her lover was the most memorable episode in a life marked by obsessive and
violent behavior intertwined with episodes of sorrow and repentance. Contemporary
writings document Gesualdo’s ongoing torment and the resulting deterioration in both
physical and mental health. Gesualdo’s sacred music portrays this tortured creative spirit
searching for expression of the angst o f the soul.
CHAPTER 2
RENAISSANCE THOUGHT
Don Carlo Gesualdo stood at the bridge from the sixteenth to the seventeenth
centuries, or, as music historians refer to the periods, from the Renaissance to the
Baroque. Although the imminent dawning of a new era was evident in his works, he was a
man of the Renaissance. As a member of the nobility in the sixteenth century, he was
influenced by the strains of humanism that so greatly affected learned men of this era. As
a lifelong student of music, he created a musical language that reflected the views and
attitudes of Renaissance thought.
Understanding Gesualdo’s musical style requires an inquiry into Renaissance
musical perception. By exploring the world view and musical thought that were
Gesualdo’s heritage, this chapter seeks to establish a basis for determining the
expectations of the Renaissance composer and listener as a means for better
comprehending the perception of his musical language.
Humanism vs. Scholasticism
The Renaissance, or rebirth, did not come without labor pains. Many o f the old
modes of thought did not give way easily and collided with new ways of thinking in
theology, philosophy, and in the arts. The ideals of scholasticism and humanism coexisted
25
26
and competed throughout the era. Scholastics, proponents of the dominant theology and
philosophy that arose during the late Middle Ages, based their world view upon the
authority o f the Latin Church Fathers, on the writings of Aristotle, and on their “faith in
the absolute truth of knowledge gained through rigorous deductive logic.”1
Not only did the scholastic writer believe in a universal order, but he believed that
the human mind was able to grasp that order. Many of the scholars accepted a closed
system in which complete knowledge, itself limited, could be attained by man, and indeed,
had been attained by a few ancient and early Christian writers. When faced with the new
ideas and discoveries of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, the scholastics sought refuge
in the knowledge of the ancients, emphasizing reason and theory over the supposedly
imperfect conclusions drawn from observation and practice.2
Into direct conflict with the thinking of the scholastics came the new world view
of humanism. Edward Lowinsky observed, “Just as Medieval man made his gardens in
small spaces enclosed by walls, so he liked to draw his universe near to the earth, confine
it in the smallest possible space and even have it walled in.”3 Ruth Katz stated, “Whereas
the Greeks were satisfied with speculation, and medieval Christians humbled themselves
i Gary Tomlinson, Monteverdi and the End o f the Renaissance (Berkeley:

University o f California Press, 1987), 4.
2Ibid., 5.
3Edward E. Lowinsky, “The Concept of Physical and Musical Space in the

Renaissance,” in Music in the Culture o f the Renaissance and Other Essays, ed. Bonnie
Blackburn, 2 vols. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1989), 1:7.
27
under the strict surveillance of God, the humanists began to think of themselves as
masters of the world, as men who should act in the image of the God after whom they
were fashioned.”4
By the fifteenth century, humanism had reached universities. In Renaissance
thought, the term humanist referred to an intellectual who was active as a teacher,
secretary, writer, or thinker involved in the studia humanitatis, disciplines that stressed
the human and educational value of subjects such as rhetoric, grammar, poetry, history,
and moral philosophy.5 Paul Oskar Kristeller observed, “There is a touch of the modem
sense also in Renaissance humanism, in so far as the term studia humanitatis indicates an
emphasis on man and his values, and for this reason, the dignity of man was a favorite
theme for some, although by no means all, Renaissance humanists.”6
The champions of humanism had little faith in the encompassing theories of the
scholastic thinkers. As Gary Tomlinson stated, “They recognized the validity of practical
experience and accepted its fragmentary and unsystematic nature as the inevitable
impression of a complex reality on the imperfect human intellect”7 Humanists were not
4Ruth Katz, Divining the Powers o f Music: Aesthetic Theory and the Theory o f
Opera (New York: Pendragon, 1986), 78.
5Paul Oskar Kristeller, “Humanist Learning in the Italian Renaissance,” in

Renaissance Thought II: Papers on Humanism and the Arts (New York: Harper and Row,
1965), 3.
6Ibid.,4.
7Tomlinson, Monteverdi, 7.
28
confident that man could attain complete knowledge; rather, they considered the writings
of the ancients to be “working hypotheses.”8
One of the significant developments of humanism was the restoration of the
balance among grammar, rhetoric, and logic, the subjects of the old university trmum.
Medieval scholasticism had emphasized logic and tended to diminish the value of rhetoric.
Logic persuaded the intellect, which scholars held governed belief and action, whereas
rhetoric held sway over the emotions.9 From the foundation laid by the scholastics,
humanists expanded the understanding of the value of rhetorical persuasion as they
attempted to influence their fellow man to morally and politically right actions. The
clergy, who had become disillusioned with the capacity of abstract reason to lead people
to reform their lives, now sought to encourage moral action through religious fervor.10
Humanists developed from the Medieval tradition of preaching a theory and practice of
oratory used on official occasions and in celebrations.11 Rhetoric was useful in daily
8Eric Cochrane, “Science and Humanism in the Italian Renaissance,” The American
Historical Review 81 (1976): 1053-54; quoted in Tomlinson, Monteverdi, 7.
9Claude V. Palisca, Humanism in Italian Renaissance Thought (New Haven, CT:

Yale University Press, 1985), 15.
lOlbidL
11Kristeller, “Humanist Learning in the Italian Renaissance,” in Renaissance

Thought II, 9.
29
encounters as well. Skillful communication that could influence people through their
feelings became the most important means of maintaining power.12
If rhetorical persuasion was the instrument of the humanist, moral philosophy
was his domain. He valued the moral teachings derived from poetry and history, and later
from music and the plastic arts.13 Many treatises explored topics such as happiness, the
supreme good, the quality of particular virtues, the power of fortune (usually insisting
that human reason can overcome fortune), the merits of the active and contemplative life,
married and single life, duties of professions, the family, nobility, and the state and
politics.14 Poetry and the arts were seen to “embody the changing premises and
aspirations of the cultures that produced them” and were guided by cultural relativism
rather than eternal principles. They became a means to an ethical end.15 Moral instruction
was believed to be one of the main tasks of the poet, and moral interpretation and
commentaries upon ancient poetry were included in the university curriculum.16 Works
I2Palisca, Humanism, 15.
^Kristeller, “Humanist Learning in the Italian Renaissance,” in Renaissance

Thought II, 15.
iSTomlinson, Monteverdi, 9.
16Kristeller, “The Moral Thought of Renaissance Humanism,” in Renaissance

Thought II, 27.
30
of history and biography were important in the literary production of the humanists as
well. Historians, too, believed that teaching a moral lesson was their task.17
The moral thought of the humanists was never set in opposition to Christianity,
but rather coexisted with i t 18 Their studies of pagan mythology were not intended to
replace Christian theology; the writers instead sought to adapt the classical ideas into the
previously accepted view of Christianity.19
The Renaissance scholar faced an expanded view of the universe. For the Medieval
thinker, the earth was divided into five geographical zones, as defined by Pierre d’Ailly
(1350-1426) in his Ymago murtdi. Although it was most commonly thought that human
habitation was confined to the second zone, some believed that the fourth zone might also
be inhabited. Any traffic between zones two and four, however, would be impossible
because it would have to cross through zone three, uninhabitable because of the
intolerable equatorial heat20 Zones one and five were considered to be unbearably cold.
The possibility of human habitation of zone four posed a difficulty for Church leaders
because it would mean that human beings existed to whom Christ was not revealed and to
i7lbid
isibicL, 29.
i9Ibid,39.
20Lowinsky, “The Concept of Physical and Musical Space,” in Music in the

Culture o f the Renaissance, 1:8. According to Lowinsky, Christopher Columbus owned
and studied Ailly’s work and disproved the theory of the zones by sailing around Africa
and to the New World
31
whom the Gospel could not travel.21 The voyages of the discoverers, proving that the
world was actually round and that humans inhabited the other hemisphere, exposed this
false assumption.22
Copernicus determined that the universe was not only larger than it was
previously thought to be, but centered around the sun rather than the earth, noting that
the apparent motion of the sun is due to the real motion of the earth.23 Copernicus and
those who championed his system, including Galileo Galilei, pitted themselves against
both the ancient philosophers and, in the eyes of the Church, against the Bible.24
As truths formerly believed to be immutable were being challenged, the sudden
spread of knowledge and emerging philosophies was made possible by the invention of
the printing press. The literate members of the Renaissance had at their disposal
unprecedented amounts of information and a wide variety of ideas on almost any subject,
which escalated the conflict between the old and the new.
Important to the changes of the Renaissance was the printing of the classics. The
world view of the humanists was based on a conviction that through the study of the
classics, they had brought about a rebirth. Kristeller observed, “The prevalent classicism
2ilbid., 1:9.
23Lowinsky, “The Concept of Physical and Musical Space,” in Music m the

Culture o f the Renaisance, 1:11.
32
of the age led to a revival of ancient forms and styles, while the revived interest in
classical history, mythology, and allegory formed the subject matter of painting and
sculpture for many centuries to come.”25
The humanists gained power by acquiring the support of the nobility and
convincing them that they needed a good education by humanist standards to be worthy
of their social status. The humanists also aspired to attaining for themselves a comparable
social position.26 As early as the fourteenth century, the bourgeoisie began to take pride
in their way of life and take an active role in government Capitalist ventures afforded the
leisure time and means for lay patronage of literature, art, and music, and lay education
was widespread.27
The Church in Renaissance Thought
The humanist’s belief in the dignity of the individual man, as well as the scholarly
study o f the Bible in its original languages, helped bring about the Reformation. The
reformers did not believe that man gained salvation through sacrifice and good works, or
by commissioning a fresco or polyphonic mass, but were saved by grace through their
25Kristeller, “Humanism and Learning in the Italian Renaissance,” in Renaissance

Thought II, 17.
26Kristeller, “The Moral Thought of Renaissance Humanism,” in Renaissance

Thought II, 48.
27Frederick B. Artz, Renaissance Humanism (Kent, OH: Kent State University

Press, 1966), 11.
33
own faith in Christ They stood before God themselves with only the scriptures, newly
placed in their hands, for guidance.28
To counteract the Reformation, the Council of Trent, convened by Pope Paul ID
in 1545, met in three rounds of sessions over a period of eighteen years.29 The Council
reaffirmed the position of the Church that a person was not justified by faith alone;
charity and good works were equally necessary. The Council also upheld the validity of
the sacraments, the sacrificial nature of the Mass, and the traditional view of
transubstantiation. It supported papal supremacy, the special status of the priesthood,
and the non-participatory role of the laity in the administration of the Church.30
The Council’s attempt to bring conformity to the church by standardizing the
liturgy, while in some ways stifling, was also meant to inspire. Spurred by the humanists’
pessimistic estimation of man’s ability to comprehend reality, the Church attempted to
regain order and rationalize the fragmented social and religious structures of sixteenth-
century life. The Church’s action precipitated a return to authoritarian dogmatism and a
scholastic reliance on authorities.31
28Allan W. Atlas, Renaissance Music (New York: Norton, 1998), 512.
29Ibid., 508.
30IbicL
3iTomlinson, Monteverdi, 11.
34
The Catholic Church advocated a reinstatement of the Medieval view of reality,
and reserved for itself the most enigmatic questions concerning man’s place in the
world.32 Its campaign against intellectual freedoms of preceding decades also attacked
Renaissance historiography. This freedom had long been suspected of spreading
antihierarchical political doctrine that undermined the place of religion in daily life and
challenged the universal authority of the Pope.33 The church writers recognized the
persuasive force of history and the need for the church to control it. History became a
method for transmitting dogmatic ethical rules through eloquent writing. This return to
scholasticism fostered by the Catholic Church also influenced literary theory, engendered
an atmosphere of caution, and hastened the trend among seventeenth-century poets to
avoid profound human issues.34
Tension between the composer and the Church had long been evident. In the
sixteenth century the Church restricted the use of imitation, a technique which it
maintained rendered the sacred words unintelligible, and searched for an appropriate style
of sacred music. These pressures from the Church, combined with the humanist interest
in the text, undermined the ars perfecta of the High Renaissance and pushed late
33Ibid., 249.
34lbid., 250.
35
sixteenth-century music toward the logocentric simplicity of the musical style of the early
Baroque.35
Musical Thought in the Italian Renaissance
Beginning in the fourteenth century with Petrarch and some of his contemporaries,
Italian humanists devoted themselves to the rediscovery and reinterpretation of classical
literature and learning.36 Because no classical models were available to be imitated, music
moved more slowly into the Renaissance. In the absence of examples of the music itself
writers set about to make available the literature of ancient theory and commentary.37
The contribution of humanism was the gradual recovery of ancient texts upon
which modem writers based their knowledge.38 By the end of the sixteenth century,
almost the entire body of ancient writings on music had been recovered in Italy.39
35Piero Weiss and Richard Taruskin, Music in the Western World: A History in
Documents (New York: Schirmer Books, 1984), 135.
36Richard Hoppin, Medieval Music (New York: W. W. Norton, 1978), 470.
37Lewis Lockwood, “Renaissance,” The New Grove Dictionary o f Music and

Musicians, ed. Stanley Sadie, 20 vols. (London: Macmillan, 1980), 15:738.
38Lockwood, “Renaissance,” The New Grove, 15:738.
39Palisca, Humanism, 23.
36
Humanism also stimulated the revival of the treatise as a genre. The forms of the treatises
betrayed their classical models, especially in the use of dialogue.40
The philosophies of the ancient Greeks were made available to Renaissance
musicians by Boethius’s De institutione musica, written in the sixth century. The first
ancient source that the humanists rediscovered, it presented a summary of classical
musical thought. According to Palisca, De institutione musica was first printed in Venice
in 1492, “but both before and after that time, it circulated widely in manuscript copies
and could be found in nearly every educational institution and monastery.”41
From Boethius (ca. 480-524) Renaissance scholars learned that the ancient Greeks
believed that music was capable of improving or degrading the morals of men. According
to Boethius, Aristotle considered music to be useful in education and ritual as well as
valuable for entertainment and relaxation. In addition to ethical benefits, therefore, music
could impart purely aesthetic pleasure.42
For Boethius, music was the science of sound, and along with arithmetic,
geometry, and astronomy, one of the four arts of measurement that constituted the
university quadrivium 43 Boethius credited Pythagoras as the inventor of music or the
40Ibid., 8-9.
41Ibid., 36.
42Weiss and Taruskin, Music in the Western World, 10.
43Ibid., 33.
37
discoverer of the ratios of the consonances. Numbers were the essence of the universe,
according to Boethius. His explanation of this musical order divided the study of music
into three categories: musica mundana, musica humana, and musica instrumentalis. All
that is now considered to be music was included in Boethius’s definition of musica
instrumentalis. In musica mundana, Boethius included the movement of the heavenly
bodies and the music of the spheres, believing that such motion could not take place in
silence. Musica humana was the order of the body, and the relationship o f the body to
the soul.
The philosophy of music as transmitted by Boethius provided for a broad
definition of music, which was seen to indicate the order of the universe. As this ancient
reasoning combined with the new humanist thought, music for the Renaissance scholar
became an amalgam of science, magic, rhetoric, and art Perhaps this plurality is best
exemplified in the writings of Marsilio Ficino (1422-1499), a Florentine humanist and
philosopher supported by Cosimo and Lorenzo de’ Medici, and a founder of the
Accademia Platonica di Firenze44 Known as the foremost fifteenth-century interpreter of
Plato,45 he played the lyre and liked to be compared to Orpheus 46
44James Haar, ‘Ticino, Marsilio,” The New Grove Dictionary o f Music and
45Katz, Divining the Powers o f Music, 78.
46Haar, ‘Ticino,” The New Grove, 6:526.
38
Ficino discussed medicine, music, and theology and justified this combination by
stating that music is as important for the intermediary “spirit” as medicine is for the body
and theology for the soul.47 Kristeller observed, “In his treatise on divine madness, he
[Ficino] states that the human soul acquires through the ears a memory of that divine
music which is found first in the eternal mind of God and second in the order and
movements of the heavens. There is also a two-fold imitation of that divine music among
men, a lower one through voices and instruments and a higher one through verse and
metre.”48
Ficino considered sight and sound to be superior to the lower senses because they
are able to convey intellectual content, but sound is the more effective. For Ficino music
had communicative powers through which it facilitated a meeting of minds and hearts. He
regarded words as evidence of man’s divinity, and believed that speech was granted as the
interpreter of the mind.49
Air and spirit were central to Ficino’s theory and to his concept of the influence
of music. Ficino believed that music is more influential than visual art because sound,
which is moving air, makes direct contact with the air residing in the ear, which is the
47Kristeller, “Music and Learning in the Early Italian Renaissance,” in

Renaissance Thought II, 157.
4»Ibid., 157-58.
49Katz, Divining the Power o f Music, 85.
39
human spirit.50 His writings taught that because music itself has movement, it can be
made to correspond to the movements of the celestial bodies, and “thus the human spirit,
through music, can refresh itself through contact with the cosmic spirit, which can then
transfer to the human spirit the desired characteristics of the planets.”51 Because music
has the ability to arouse particular emotions and moral attitudes in the singer and listener,
it can arouse those emotions and attitudes that correspond to the moral character of the
gods for whom the planets are named.52
Ficino also gave a musical formula for imitating the stars in such a way as to
benefit from their spirit. He gave rules for stargazing and for attuning words and music to
particular stars in order to include the powers of the stars in the text of the song. He
stated that the composer should discover the people and places under the influence of a
star and include their modes and meanings in their songs by imitating the variations in
speech, songs, and actions that are induced under various aspects of the star.53
Ficino related this discussion to the proportions underlying the musical intervals.
He recognized the third and compared the third, fifth, and octave to the three graces. He
concluded that the degree of consonance and dissonance is determined by the extent to
soibid., 86.
5ilbid.,87.
5 2 lb id , 87-88.
53Ibid., 88.
40
which the corresponding proportions approach unity or plurality, respectively. For the
physical justification of consonance, Ficino looked to the proportions between the four
elements, which were said to correspond to the proportions that determine the consonant
intervals. 54
Ficino also discussed the astronomical and astrological causes of consonance. He
related the signs of the zodiac to the tones of the scale and compared the favorable and
harmful aspects of the twelve signs to the consonant and dissonant intervals.55 He
compared the mixture of sounds to the mixture of drugs made by the physician, and
emphasized that sounds produced simultaneously result in a new characteristic
phenomenon. This phenomenon is perceived as a consonance when two sounds attain a
kind of union.56 Although Ficino’s views were not shared—or at least not discussed-by
all theorists, his ideas were typical of the Renaissance in their all-encompassing
metaphysical perspective.
A Musical Rebirth
The Renaissance world view led to a rethinking of fundamental issues in music
theory and aesthetics that directly affected musical practice. Increasingly, music was
54Kristeller, “Music and Learning in the Early Italian Renaissance,” in

Renaissance Thought II, 158-59.
55lbid., 159.
56Ibid.
41
considered more as sound than as number.57 Palisca remarked, “Questions such as the
nature of the modes, the control of dissonance, melody, and rhythm in counterpoint, the
relation between text and music, and the degree to which the aural sense or mathematics
should determine the rules of composition were argued in writings throughout Italy.”58
The new musical thought was spurred by the wide dissemination of information regarding
music during the Renaissance.
Just as the invention of the printing press had greatly influenced the dissemination
of information in general, the rise of music printing in the sixteenth century had a vast
impact on musical life. With Italy at the center of the music publishing industry, music
was distributed more rapidly and with more uniform texts than ever before.59 An
increasing number of handbooks and music for teaching were published for a rising middle
class that consisted largely of performing amateurs for whom music was essentially a
higher form of recreation.60
Fifteenth-century musicians continued and developed practices inherited from the
Middle Ages while at the same time introducing new compositional procedures and
57Edward Lowinsky, “Musical Genius: Evolution and Origins of a Concept,” in

Music in the Culture o f the Renaissance, 1:50.
59Lockwood, “Renaissance,” The New Grove, 15:738.
soibid.
42
techniques.61 The new fifteenth-century style was described by Johannes Tinctoris in
Proportionate musices. Tinctoris, a mathematician and practicing musician, remarked that
“the possibilities of our new music have been so marvelously increased that there appears
to be a new art, if I may call it, whose fount and origin is held to be among the English, of
whom Dunstable stood forth as chief.”62 Tinctoris made his opinion clear in the
dedication of Liber de carte contrapuncti, dated October 1477. He stated, “Although it
seems beyond belief, there does not exist a single piece of music, not composed within the
last forty years, that is regarded by the learned as worth hearing.”63
Among these changes was a new concept of creativity. The theological framework
of the Middle Ages ruled out the possibility of the concept of human creativity. Medieval
man defined creation as making something from nothing, something only God can achieve.
Musicians o f the Renaissance refined that definition by viewing creation as making
something new.64 Composers realized the importance of experience and of the creative
genius. Theirs was the first epoch to recognize that mere observation of rules and practice
61Hoppin, Medieval Music, 471.
62Johannes Tinctoris, Proportionale musices (ca. 1476), quoted in Oliver Strunk,

Source Readings in Music History (New York: W. W. Norton, 1950), 195.
63Johannes Tinctoris, Liber de arte contrapuncti (Naples, 1477), quoted in Strunk,

Source Readings, 199.
64Lowinsky, “Musical Genius,” in Music in the Culture o f the Renaissance, 1:49.
43
do not make a great composer. Rather, true talent and creativity are exhibited by artistic
twists and turns that defy definition and explanation. 65
The change in the philosophy of creativity resulted in a new paradigm for musical
structure. Composers of the Middle Ages based their music on the use of fixed schemes
such as a cantus firmus, the formes fixes, and the rhythmic modes. For the Renaissance
composer, the text often provided the structure for a composition. Sixteenth-century
theorists thought that the music should express the text and that it was in this
combination that music found its power. In his Istitutioni harmoniche (1558), Zarlino
advocated the importance of the relationship between word and music, stating that the
elements of a composition are not equal, but that the rhythm and harmony must follow
the text66
Music, then, was no longer considered a pure science of relationships, but rather a
form of expression similar to poetry and religion. It was primarily concerned with
heightening the meaning of the text and moving the passions. Through the expression of
the text, music had the power to move the soul and to reproduce affects attributed to it
by the ancients.67 The relationship of music and text will be discussed in greater depth in
Chapter 4.
65Ibid., 1:57.
66Zarlino, Istitutioni harmoniche, IV, Chapter 32, quoted in Lowinsky, “Music in

the Culture of the Renaissance,” in Music in the Culture o f the Renaissance, 1:31.
67Lockwood, “Renaissance,” The New Grove, 15:738-39.
44
Renaissance theorists combined elements of scholasticism with hum anism Their
humanist inclination is evidenced by their study of ancient Greek writers and their
attempts to revive the musical language of ancient Greece. Yet the influence of
scholasticism seems to be suggested by their apparent belief in a musical truth and their
difficulty in allowing beauty to be determined by the individual ear. Gary Tomlinson
observed, “In their view and that of their ancient predecessors extending back to
Pythagoras, the rules of musical practice could be deduced from nature itself through a
careful mathematical study of harmonic proportions. Such rules, once logically
established, would be immutable, and their application would lead to a perfect musical
practice to which no refinements could be added.”68 Yet these theorists were most often
practicing musicians writing for other practicing musicians. While they sought
justification for the sounds that were a part of contemporary music, they also tried to
assist the composer in appropriately setting his text. In their writings, the tools available
to sixteenth-century composers can be examined.
Modes
Renaissance musicians based their music on the church modes. The first five
hundred years o f Western music theory were clouded by a misreading of the Greek modes
listed by Boethius, a mistake not discovered until the Renaissance. Palisca observed, “The
modes were fascinating to Renaissance musicians, not only because they were a link to a
45
noble past, but because they were thought to unlock the powers o f music.”69 Plato and
Aristotle could be read in printed Latin translations, and their writings told of the
emotional and moral or ethical effects that could be elicited by a musician by the proper
choice of mode. This relationship was, of course, consistent with the concept that music
finds power in combination with a text. Gaffurius and those who followed him equated
the modem modes with the ancient ones and attributed to them the powers of ethos.70
The modal system as inherited by sixteenth-century musicians developed from the
eight Medieval church modes. The system was expanded to twelve by Heinrich Loris,
called Glareanus (1488-1563), the Swiss author of Dodecachordon (1547). One of
Glareanus’s major contributions was the justification of the Ionian and Aeolian modes
(major and minor scales) within the system of the church modes.71 These modes were
adopted by Zarlino in his Istitutioni harmoniche (1558), who reordered them, placing the
Ionian mode first.
The final codification of the church modes occurred after the composition of many
chants, and it is those early chants that theorists had the most difficulty in reconciling
with the modal system. By the sixteenth century, composers were conscious of mode in
their writing, a fact confirmed by the vast number of collections in which each mode is
70lbid.
46
explored. The modes, in turn, determined the characteristics of the music, not only the
final note, but the contour of the melodic lines.
The Expansion of Musical Space
The Renaissance composer's expanded concept of the physical world was
reflected in the enlargement of his musical space. In his Musica practica (1482) the
Spanish theorist Bartolomeo Ramos de Pareja (ca. 1440-ca. 1491) argued for solmization
using eight syllables rather than the six of the Guidonian hexachord. He was a proponent
of the increased use of chromatic notes in performance, and by expanding the use of this
musicaficta, made the system of hexachordal mutations unnecessary. Ramos
foreshadowed the development of just intonation, an innovation that was essential for the
development of harmony, by making divisions of the monochord that would correct the
imperfect consonances and thereby make more triads and tonal centers available to
composers.
The theorist and composer who had the most profound effect on Gesualdo was
Nicola Vicentino (1511-ca. 1576), who spent considerable time in Ferrara in the employ
of Cardinal Ippolito II d’Este. Like many Renaissance authors, he looked to the writings
of the ancients. Although he acknowledged that the arsperfecta of Josquin’s generation
was beautiful, he was troubled by the fact that it did not have the power to influence
men’s character in the way described by the Greek writers. For Vicentino, one way to
recover this power was to attempt to revive the theory of Greek music.
47
In the theory of ancient Greece, the octave was divided into two tetrachords that
were separated by a whole tone, and each tetrachord was subdivided into three smaller
intervals in one of three ways, creating tetrachords known as diatonic, chromatic, and
enharmonic.72 The three genera-diatonic, chromatic, and enharmonic-had been accepted
among theorists from the time of Boethius, but only the diatonic genera was considered
to be practical for musical compositioa
By the time Guido d’Arezzo devised his system of hexachords in the eleventh
century, the chromatic and diatonic genera had been discarded, both in theory and in
TX
practice. In his L 'antica musica ridotta alia musica modema (1555,2d ed. 1559),
Vicentino applied what he believed to be the three ancient Greek genera to the
polyphonic music of his time. His enharmonic system divided the whole tone into five
parts. To demonstrate the viability of writing with the three genera, he invented the
arcicembalo, a harpsichord that had thirty-one notes to the octave and used mean-tone
tuning. It was housed in the music room of the court of Alfonso II during Gesualdo's stay
in Ferrara. Luzzaschi played this instrument during the Este-Venosa wedding
72Cecil Gray and Philip Heseltine, Carlo Gesualdo, Prince ofVenosa: Musician
CT: Greenwood, 1971), 96-97.
73Ibid.,98.
48
celebrations, and Gesualdo and a composer from his camerata, Scipione Stella, later tried,
in vain, to construct a similar chromatic instrument in Naples.74
As early as 1546, Vicentino attempted to introduce into his madrigals the
chromatic and enharmonic genera of Greek theory. As a result, his works included
microtones and were more pervasively chromatic than any previous music.75 In addition,
Vicentino’s music shows a preference for chords whose roots are a half step apart,
creating many cross relations.76 He justified his pathbreaking musical style with the
subjective comment that the “nature of the text” or “the subject of the words” could
nullify many of the rules of composition.77
Consonance and Dissonance
As late as the writings of Gioseffo Zarlino (1517-1599), perhaps the most
respected theorist of the sixteenth century, the notion that music included the harmony of
the cosmos and of the body was generally accepted. In his Istitutioni harmoniche (1558),
Zarlino expressed his belief in the possibility of a rational explanation for musical practice
and aesthetic preferences. He believed that nature was rational and that its secrets could
74Lorenzo Bianconi, “Gesualdo, Carlo,” The New Grove Dictionary o f Music and
76Henry William Kaufinann, The Life and Works o f Nicola Vicentino (New Haven,
CT: American Institute of Musicology, 1966), 78.
77lbid., 175.
49
be discovered through reason and theology, or by consulting authority. Above all, he
maintained the importance of number.
From the first origins of the world, all things created by God were given
order by him through numbers. So necessary is number that if it were
taken away everything would be destroyed, man would lose his wisdom
and knowledge.78
Lacking confidence in the ability of the ear to make a right choice, Zarlino sought
rational arguments and authority for the inclusion of the imperfect intervals within the
consonant class. Because thirds and sixths are not consonant in the system handed down
by Pythagorean theory, Zarlino worked to find a system that would permit the sweet
sounding consonances that were essential components of modem partwriting.79
Zarlino determined consonance according to mathematical principles through
simple ratios on the senario, the number six. In the first book of Istitutioni harmoniche, he
explains the importance of this number. Giving reasons that barken back to the writings of
Ficino, Zarlino said that of the twelve signs of the zodiac, six can be seen, and the others
are hidden below the earth. There are six errant bodies in the sky: Saturn, Jupiter, Mars,
Venus, Mercury, and the moon. Six circumstances are necessary for existence: size, color,
shape, interval, state, and motion. The list continues.80
78Zarlino, Istitutioni harmoniche I, Chapter 12, quoted in Robert M. Isgro,

“Sixteenth-Century Conception of Harmony,” College Music Symposium 19, no. 1
(Spring 1979): 15.
79Isgro, "Sixteenth-Century Conception of Harmony,” 15.
SOPalisca, Humanism, 247-48.
50
The senario neatly justifies the perfect consonances and the major and minor
thirds. The sixths were more problematical. In a conclusion that draws the Renaissance
composer one step closer to harmonic thought, Zarlino rationalized that sixths were
composite intervals. The major sixth, expressed by the ratio 3:5, while justifiable within
the senario, was seen as the combination of the diatesseron and ditone (perfect fourth and
major third). The minor sixth (5:8), he viewed as a combination of diatesseron and
semiditone (perfect fourth and minor third).
One of the major developments of the High Renaissance was the standardization
of dissonance treatment “Dissonances were carefully controlled within a context
dominated by consonance.”81 Zarlino dealt with the correct treatment of dissonance in his
writings and derived his rules from the compositional style of his teacher, Adrian Willaert
(ca. 1490-1562), who devoted special attention in his compositions to the handling of
dissonance and the clarification of text declamation.82
Harmony
Zarlino proposed the bass as the foundation of the harmony (i.e., c is the
fundamental of c-e, while e is the fundamental of e-c), and he justified the triad by saying
that the combination of a third and a fifth form the most perfect harmony.83 He
82Ibid., 114.
83Matthew Shirlaw, The Theory o f Harmony, 2d ed. (DeKalb, IL: Dr. Birchard
Coer, 1955), 43.
51
recognized the importance of the fundamental antithesis of major and minor and described
the major triad (i.e., the sonority with the ditone rather than the semiditone as its lower
interval). Zarlino also described the harsh effects of cross relations,84 and he considered
harmony to be the result of the union of unlike rather than like elements.85
Although the Renaissance view of music was innovative, it was still one of
numerology, mathematics, magic, and mysticism. Theorists struggled to justify the music
of their day as well as to recapture the effects of the music of ancient Greece. Gesualdo
inherited these beliefs and rules in music, yet used his own creative genius to expand the
style.
84Strunk, Source Readings in Music History, 228.
85Shirlaw, The Theory o f Harmony, 33.
CHAPTER 3
CHROMATICISM AND MANNERISM

IN THE SIXTEENTH-CENTURY MADRIGAL
Reflecting the ideals of the humanists who looked to the ancient Greeks for their
inspiration, late Renaissance musicians believed that it was through the appropriate
expression of text that music had power. Gesualdo developed his own highly personal,
chromatic musical style by carefully selecting each sonority and texture to embody the
essence o f his text
The basis for the Renaissance aesthetic for music and poetry was the Aristotelian
doctrine of the imitation of nature. Because music held a unique position within the
hierarchy of universal harmony, it bore the responsibility of accurately mirroring this
harmony.1 For musicians, the exhortation to imitate nature meant not its sound or
appearance, but its inherent order.2 Theorists sought to find this order in the marriage of
music with text In one of the most famous of these treatises, Zarlino’s Istitutioni
harmoniche (1558), composers who attempted to make the music reflect their text were
iRobertM Isgro, “Sixteenth-Century Conception of Harmony,” College Music

Symposium 19, no. 1 (Spring 1979): 17.
2Ibid„ 18.
52
53
given for the first time principles for writing music that is subservient to the words.3 The
elevation of the importance of the text can be most readily observed in the development
of the sixteenth-century madrigal, the genre for which Gesualdo was best known and in
which his personal style was developed.
The Madrigal
The madrigal was the most important type of Italian secular music in the sixteenth
century. In the madrigal, composers began to create music that conveyed both the literal
meaning and the emotion of the text A descendant of the frottola in the second decade of
the century, the madrigal began to develop into a through-composed setting of a short
poem with each line set to new music that was suited to the rhythm and meaning of the
words.
Changes in literary tastes led madrigal composers to the poems of Petrarch.
Francesco Petrarca (1304-1374) developed his thoughts about spirituality, earthly values,
and ideal beauty in the 366 poems of his Canzioniere* Somewhat overlooked by his
contemporaries, the works of Petrarch came into vogue in the sixteenth century as a result
of the writings of Pietro Bembo. Bembo, who served as secretary to Pope Leo X and
3James Haar, “Italian Music in the Age of the Counter-Reformation,” in Essays on

Italian Poetry and Music in the Renaissance, 1350-1600 (Berkeley: University of
California Press, 1986), 109.
4Allan W. Atlas, Renaissance Music (New York: W. W. Norton, 1998), 432.
54
became a cardinal in 1539, was a poet and a literary theorist5 In Petrarch’s poetry,
Bembo recognized the qualities ofpiacevolezze (sweetness or pleasingness) and gravita
(dignity or severity). He noted that Petrarch often modified his poetry to achieve the
effects of sweetness or severity through the sounds of vowels, consonants, rhythm,
rhyme, and context.6
Although an Italian genre, the madrigal was first brought to life by composers of
Franco-Flemish descent In their madrigals, Jacques Arcadelt and Philippe Verdelot began
to move away from the homophonic style of the frottola and adopted the polyphonic
style of the motet. As the form developed, a mixture of the traditional means of setting
poetry line by line and of alternating homophonic and polyphonic texture was used.7
By the middle of the century, there were two schools of madrigal composition; a
Roman school identified with Arcadelt and his followers, and a Venetian one, with Adrian
Willaert and Cipriano de Rore as its leading figures.8 In the works of the Venetian
composers, Bembo’s concepts of piacevolezze and gravita were transferred to music, and
the madrigal was placed on a level with the motet as a serious genre. The texts, which
included some o f Petrarch’s more melancholy and contemplative sonnets, were set in a
sibid., 433.
filbid.
THaar, “Italian Music in the Age of the Counter-Reformation,” in Essays on

Italian Poetry and Music, 112.
sibid., 116.
55
densely polyphonic texture, with five-voice settings the most numerous.9 Rore, who had
arrived in Venice in the 1540s and became associated with Willaert’s circle, developed a
style for his madrigals in which he expressed his text on two levels. In addition to
presenting the imagery of the individual words or short phrases in the madrigalisms
people had come to expect, he also designed his music to convey the emotion of the entire
poem.10
The madrigal reached its pinnacle in the late sixteenth century. In the last stage of
its development, represented by the latest period of Luca Marenzio, some of the works
of Luzzasco Luzzaschi and Claudio Monteverdi, and by the works of Gesualdo, the
dramatic and expressive tendencies inherent in the form pushed to affective extremes.11
One of the last great madrigal composers, Monteverdi moved the genre from the
Renaissance into the new aesthetic of the Baroque. In response to the attack on certain of
Monteverdi’s madrigals made by the Bolognese music theorist Giovanni Maria Artusi in
L 'Artusi overo delle imperfettioni della modema musica (1600), Giulio Cesare
Monteverdi, Claudio’s brother, issued his “Declaration” in which he related the now oft-
quoted statement describing the new aesthetic in music: “My brother says that his works
9Ibid.
10Atlas, Renaissance Music, 634-35.
1iManfred F. Bukofzer, Music in the Baroque Era (New York: W. W. Norton,

1947), 33.
56
are not composed at random, for, in this kind of music, it is his goal to make the words
the mistress o f the harmony and not its servant.”12
Giulio Cesare communicated Claudio’s theory that the pure counterpoint of the
Renaissance, the prima prattica, was chiefly concerned with the perfection of the
harmony. The seconda prattica, which was more concerned with the setting of the text,
was not new at the turn of the seventeenth century, but was a product of the mid
sixteenth century and coexisted with the first practice.
Second practice-which was originated by Cipriano de Rore, later followed

and improved upon by Ingegneri, Marenzio, Giaches de Wert, Luzzasco,
still more by Jacopo Peri, Giulio Caccini, and finally by yet more exalted
spirits who understand even better what true art is—is that style which is
chiefly concerned with the perfection of the setting; that is, in which
harmony does not rule but is ruled, and where the words are mistress of
the harmony. 13
In the sixteenth-century madrigal, the text assumed the place previously occupied
by counterpoint and cantus firmus as a framework for the music. Word and tone had been
only loosely connected in the Middle Ages. Edward Lowinsky observed, “Even
Guillaume de Machaut, composer and poet, did not concern himself with bringing about a
correspondence between the rhythmic groupings of his composition and the groups of
l2Piero Weiss and Richard Taruskin, Music in the Western World: A History in
Documents {New York: Schirmer Books, 1984), 172.
isibid., 173.
57
verses in his poem.” Medieval musicians attempted to express their texts only in a very
general way.14
The Renaissance association of text and music was revolutionary. The relationship
between word and music was stated by Zarlino in Istitutioni Harmortiche, IV, Chapter 32:
It may seem as if in such a composition all elements were of equal weight;

however, he (Plato) puts the text as the principal element ahead of the
others; and the two remaining parts are subservient to it; for after he has
revealed the whole by means of the parts, he says that the harmony and
rhythm must follow with the text and not vice versa. And this is as it
should b e .. . . To set each word to music in such a way that where it
denotes harshness, hardness, cruelty, bitterness, and other similar things
the music be similar to it, that is somewhat hard and harsh, however,
without offending. Similarly, when one of the words expresses weeping,
pain, heartbreak, sighs, tears, and other similar things, let the harmony be
full of sadness, i5
For Zarlino, sad harmony combined slow movement with the use of syncopated
dissonances and minor chords, whereas light-hearted harmony was best portrayed by
major chords in light and fast rhythms.16
Zarlino’s additional instructions were given in English translation by Thomas
Morley in his treatise, A Plaine and Easie Introduction to Practicall Musicke (1597).17
i4Edward Lowinsky, “Music in the Culture of the Renaissance,” in Music in the

Culture o f the Renaissance, ed. Bonnie Blackburn, 2 vols. (Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1989), 1:31.
isibid.
isibid., 1:32.
58
You must therefore, if you have a grave matter, apply a grave kind
o f music to it, if a merry subject you must make your music also merry,
for it will be a great absurdity to use a sad harmony to a merry matter or a
meny harmony to a sad, lamentable, or tragical ditty.
You must then when you would express any word signifying
hardness, cruelty, bitterness, and other such like make the harmony like
unto it, that is somewhat harsh and hard, but yet so that it offendeth not.
Likewise when any of your words shall express complaint, dolour,
repentance, sighs, tears and such like let your harmony be sad and doleful.
So that if you would have your music signify hardness, cruelty or other
such affects you must cause the parts proceed in their motions without the
half step, that is, you must cause them proceed by whole steps, sharp
thirds, sharp sixths, and such like; you may also use cadences bound with
dissonances which, being in long notes will exasperate the harmony. But
when you would express a lamentable passion, then must you use motions
proceeding by half steps, flat thirds, and flat sixths, which of their nature
are sweet, specially being taken in the true tune with discretion and
judgm ent.. .
Also, if the subject be light you must cause your music to go in
motions which carry with them a celerity or quickness of time. If it be
lamentable the note must go in slow and heavy motions.. . .
Moreover, you must have a care that when your matter signifieth
“ascending,” “high,” “heaven,” and such like you make your music ascend; and by
the contrary where your ditty speaketh of “descending,” “lowness,” “depth,”
“hell” and other such you must make your music descend; for as it will be thought
a great absurdity to talk of heaven and point downwards to earth, so will it be
counted great incongruity if a musician upon the words “he ascended into heaven”
should cause his music to descend, or by the contrary upon the descension should
cause his music to ascend.. . .
Lastly you must not make a close till the full sense o f the words be
perfect. So that keeping these rules you shall have a perfect agreement and,
as it were, an hannonical consent betwixt the matter and the music, and
likewise you shall be perfectly understood of the auditor what you sing,
which is one of the highest degrees of praise which a musician in dittying
can attain unto or wish for.18
As mentioned by Zarlino, rhythm, also, was called into use in service of the text
By the 1540s there appeared a number of madrigal prints advertised as being written in a
isibid., 144-55.
59
misura breve (in short measure, i.e., according to the semibreve rather than alia breve) or
note nere (with many black or short values notes) called madrigali cromaticl19
Composers were able to declaim the text through the use of a range of rhythmic values
extending from the breve to the fusa or chroma,20 While all of the possibilities might not
be used in a piece, the composer could employ marked retardations and accelerations,
allowing for a more dramatic reading of the text than could be rendered by a more uniform
rate of declamation.21 James Haar observed, “One consequence of this rhythmic variety
was the development of a dramatically heightened mode of declamation.”22
In the development of the Italian madrigal, the disintegration of the modal
techniques and ideals of the ars perfecta is clearly manifested. The early madrigalists
attempted to lend an air of nobility to the genre by turning to the style of the motet,
which was firmly rooted in the church modes. The gradual evolution of a harmonic sense
culminated in the increasing use of chromaticism to achieve the goal of expressing human
passion more vividly. Each use of dissonance, chromaticism, and bold harmonic
i^Haar, “Italian Music in the Age of the Counter-Reformation,” in Essays on

20Ibid., 113.
21Ibid.
22lbid., 114.
23Howard Mayer Brown, Music in the Renaissance (Englewood Cliffs, NJ:

Prentice-Hall, 1976), 337.
progression was precipitated by a specific emotional point in the words of the madrigal
that the composer wished to emphasize.24 As a result, composers began to place more
emphasis upon vertical sonority, hastening the end of the church modes and the advent of
the tonal system.
Chromaticism and the Transformation of the Modal System
At the end of each era of musical thought and compositional style, there have been
those composers who based their creations on the old style but applied new rules or
innovations to that style. Beethoven stretched Classical forms to make room for his
expansive musical expression. Wagner enlarged the tonal system, finding its boundaries
too confining for his creative vision. Gesualdo takes his place in the company of these
composers. As Gesualdo’s chromaticism was straining the limits of the modal system,
Palestrina was writing in the clear contrapuntal style of the Renaissance and Cavalieri
signalled the beginning of the Baroque period by expressing the ideals of the Florentine
Camerata’s interpretation of early Greek music in his monody.
Although Gesualdo used all the tools of the madrigalists, such as word painting
and variety o f texture and rhythm, the technique for which he is most recognized is his
extensive use of chromaticism. As the modal system was being transformed by musica
ficta toward a tonal system centered in the use of the major and minor scales, composers
24Cecil Gray and Philip Heseltine, Carlo Gesualdo, Prince ofVenosa: Musician
CT: Greenwood Press, 1971), 106.
61
exploited the tension and goal directedness of leading tones and certain harmonic
progressions in their works. This move to tonal harmony was hastened by the use of
figured bass by continuo players, which resulted in increased awareness of vertical
sonorities. Further developments in theory and practice placed at their disposal the
possibility of all the pitches of the chromatic scale.
The pitch range within which Gregorian Chant moved consisted of the two
octaves from A to a1, with B-flat the only permissible accidental. Guido’s solmization
system expanded this range to G and e2 in a system of interlocking hexachords.
Bartolomeo Ramos de Pareja further enlarged the system to contain three complete
octaves from F to f2. With Ramos, the tonal space was also widened by the insertion of
all the half steps. Whereas Guido had legitimized the interpolation of B-flat, Ramos
constructed a complete twelve-tone scale.25
Composers of the late Middle Ages wrote music in three parts in which the two
upper voices were each primarily related to the tenor and only secondarily to each other,
occasionally creating severe dissonances and parallel perfect consonances.26 By 1450,
composers began to consider the complete vertical sonority, the triad, and organized their
compositions around one tone. About 1480, a number of Italian and Netherlandish
compositions in four-part settings contain the triad in the three upper voices and the root
25Edward Lowinsky, “The Concept of Physical and Musical Space,” in Music in

the Culture o f the Renaissance, 1:9.
26IbicL, 1:10.
62
repeated in the bass, a style of writing that presupposes a manner of simultaneous
composition of all the voices as a harmonic whole rather than the medieval manner of
setting one voice after another.27 Although sixteenth-century musicians were taught
composition in polyphonic linear terms, by the end of the century, the seeds of tonality
and its harmonic implications had taken root.28
By 1558 modes were increasingly considered diatonic scales.29 Melodically, three
steps were important; the frnalis, the diatesseron, and the diapente. The repetition of
these notes defined the modal character of the piece, and the cadence became increasingly
important in indicating a mode.30 The diatonic mode created a feeling of stability within a
piece by giving it a harmonic system of reference to which the ear could grow accustomed,
and composers began to think in harmonic as well as melodic terms.31
Despite the fact that the full range of chromaticism was theoretically justified
early in the fifteenth century, many o f these freedoms were not exercised during the next
150 years. The accidentals that were used were those necessary to achieve smooth and
easy cadences in one voice part. If accidentals in one part created a dissonance, the
27Ibid., 1:10-11.
28Daniel B. Rowland, Mannerism—Style and Mood: An Anatomy o f Four Works in

Three Art Forms (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1964), 37.
29Ibid., 39.
30IbicL, 38.
3ilbid., 39-40.
63
harmonic effect was regarded as a somewhat unfortunate occurrence that could not be
prevented.32
For musicians of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, the term musicaficta
indicates those notes that fell outside the Guidonian hand and were therefore false notes.
The composers of the period did not notate all of the accidentals, and singers were
expected to add them in performance. Theorists supplied rules and guidelines, but
implementing the rules was difficult In some cases, adding an accidental in compliance
with one rule would cause another to be broken. Sometimes singers seemed to have a
choice as to which rule to follow.33
The theorists’ guidelines for the addition of accidentals were designed to achieve
three main purposes: to avoid certain harmonic discords, to avoid certain melodic
intervals, and to produce certain progressions at cadences. An important rule known by
every singer was the prohibition of mi contra fa . Singers knew that a note that carried the
solmization syllable mi was not to be sung while another sang a note called fa .34 This rule
was used to keep the perfect consonances by preventing the harmonic intervals of a
diminished octave and augmented fourth.35
33Atlas, Renaissance Music, 238.
34Ibid., 239.
ssibid.
64
Singers added accidentals to avoid melodic intervals such as the augmented fourth,
diminished fifth, augmented octave, and chromatic semitone. These melodic intervals were
prohibited whether ascending or descending, whether by skip or—if they marked the outer
boundaries of a scale passage-by stepwise motion.36
Accidentals were added at cadences in response to an instinctive demand for a
certain sound, that is for causa pulchritudinis, for reason of beauty. Theorists agreed that
when a cadence on a perfect consonance was approached by an imperfect consonance,
one voice of the imperfect consonance was to reach its goal by way of a half step. The
emerging sense of harmony as the basis for polyphonic composition supported this use
of musica ficta 38
The rules of musicaficta formed the foundation for the introduction of an
increasing number of accidentals in music of the sixteenth century. Lowinsky traced the
use of chromaticism in the motet to the Netherlands composers at St. Mark’s in Venice.
Lowinsky believed that the music was more chromatic than the notation indicates and
postulated a controversial theory of a secret chromatic art in which a modulation that is
not notated in the music is effected through voice leading according to the rules of musica
36Ibid„ 240.
37Ibid.,241.
38Edward Lowinsky, Tonality and Atonality in Sixteenth-Century Music, with a

foreword by Igor Stravinsky (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1962), 3.
65
ficta?9 According to Lowinsky, “The secret modulation causes a temporary excursion
into the chromatic.” The return to the diatonic, too, is brought about through inherent
musical development.40 The secret chromatic art was not an intellectual game, but an
attempt to create a new musical symbolism and medium of expression.41
Nicola Vicentino attempted to bring the chromatic and enharmonic genera of
Greek music into the service of the madrigal text According to Haar, Vicentino’s aim was
“to enrich what he saw as the insufficiently expressive musical language of his time
through the addition of elements of ancient music that had been said to have special
qualities of ethos.”42 Lowinsky observed that, for Vicentino, “the appropriate musical
setting was not determined by preexisting rules of beauty and proportion, but by the
varying expression of the text.”43
In the chromatic repertory of the second half of the sixteenth century some
phenomena cannot be completely understood either in terms of the old modality or in
those of the newly emerging tonality. In this music extreme chromaticism and constant
39Edward Lowinsky, Secret Chromatic Art in the Netherlands Motet, trans. Carl
Buchman (New York: Russell and Russell, 1946), 76.
40lbid.
4ilbid.,79.
42Haar, “Italian Music in the Age of the Counter-Reformation,” in Essays on

43Lowinsky, “The Problem of Mannerism in Music: An Attempt at Definition,”

in Music in the Culture o f the Renaissance, 1:141.
66
modulation within a triadic texture of harmony erode a sense of stable tonal center.44 The
modal framework of the Renaissance forms a context, without which the unusual
harmonic progressions and chromatic inflections would not have had the same impact
In order to understand the effect of chromaticism in Gesualdo’s work, it is
necessary to understand the way in which the chromatic style was interpreted by
Renaissance composers and listeners alike. According to Lowinsky, chromaticism always
represents the extraordinary. With Crecquillon, he stated, it was used to symbolize the
oneness of God; with Gombert, the oneness of the Passion and Annunciation; with
Waelrant, the supernatural personality of Jesus, the baptism through the Holy Ghost, the
Resurrection, and the Exhortation to preach the Gospel45 Lowinsky added that
chromaticism, above all, is the symbol of deepest suffering. Chromatic treatment was
given to such highly emotional concepts as crying, lamenting, mourning, moaning,
inconsolability, shrouding one’s head, breaking down, and so forth.46 In the music of the
Netherlands, chromaticism symbolized the devout believer struggling with the burden or
sorrow that God has laid upon him to test his faith. In the Italian madrigal, it represented
man entangled by his earthly passions.47
44Lowinsky, Tonality andAtonality, 38.
45Lowinsky, Secret Chromatic Art, 79.
46Ibid.
47Ibid.
67
Chromaticism was probably associated with a style of writing known as musica
reservata, a term associated with Renaissance music whose true meaning is not known.
Musica reservata seems to be characterized, not by a single musical technique, but rather
by the use of unusual means such as striking modulations, extreme chromaticism,
enharmonic changes, musicaficta, and other eccentric traits.48 Those sources that go
beyond the mere mention of the term suggest that four aspects of music may be involved:
musical expression of the meaning of the text; a continuous rhythm that resulted in the
avoidance of cadences; chromaticism or the employment of chromatic notes; and the use
of solo voices with continuo 49
The best-known description of musica reservata is by Samuel Quickelberg, a
Netherlandish humanist living at the ducal court in Munich, in a comment on Lassus’s
Penitential Psalms:
Lassus expressed these Psalms so appropriately in accommodating,

according to necessity, thoughts and words with lamenting and plaintive
tones, in expressing the force of the individual affections, and in placing the
object almost alive before the eyes, that one is at a loss to say whether the
sweetness of the affections enhanced the lamenting tones more greatly, or
whether the lamenting tones brought greater ornament to the sweetness of
the affections. This genre of music they call musica reservata.50
48Albert Dunning, “Musica reservata,” The New Grove, 12:827.
49Ibid., 12:825.
soibid.
68
The astrologer-mathematician Jean Taisnier associated the term musica reservata
with chromaticism in 1559.51 Vicentino used it to refer to music that was not for
everyone, but for people with cultivated taste.52 His treatise mentions the term in
connection with the chromatic genera:
They understand that (as the ancient authors prove) the chromatic and
enharmonic music was fittingly reserved for another purpose than the
diatonic, for the latter was sung, for the benefit of ordinary ears, at public
festivals in places for the community; the former was used for the benefit
of trained ears at private entertainments of lords and princes, in praising
great personages and heroes.53
The secret chromatic art and musica reservata shared a similar philosophy if not
identical techniques. According to Lowinsky, the secret chromatic art displayed two
faces, the face presented by the notes, which is turned to the outer world, and the hidden
face of the inner relation and secret associations, a face which is available only to a circle
of informed and initiated—the face, in other words, of a true musica reservata,54 These
works were composed not for the church, but for a circle of initiated amateurs and
professionals.55
53Dunning, “Musica reservata,” The New Grove, 12:826.
ssibid., 105.
69
Musica reservata arose as the classical technique of certain followers of Josquin
disintegrated under the pressure to represent the text more fully. It lacked the control of
the resources, the restraint and homogeneity, and the obvious symmetries and neat
demarcation of the classical style. It was in short, according to Palisca, mannerism.56
Mannerism
The extreme use of chromatic inflection and the departure from standard rules of
Renaissance polyphony in the service of expression of the text appear to have been a
contribution of the ducal court at Ferrara. Known for its beautiful music and its patronage
of the arts, Ferrara was also the center for an experimental artistic style in the last half of
the sixteenth century. Throughout the century, Alfonso I, Ercole II, and especially
Alfonso II had given priority to secular music, and it was in the madrigal that the new
musical style of Ferrara found its greatest expression.57 Alfonso II had separated the
court of Ferrara from the outside world. As Newcomb observed, “Increasingly frustrated,
even threatened by that world, [the court] had determined to create an artful and artificial
world of particular pleasures to enjoy in its declining years.”58 The new style resulted
from the “desire of bold and restless musicians at the end of the century to enliven the
SGClaude V. Palisca, “A Clarification o f 1Musica reservata’ in Jean Taisnier’s

Astrologiae, 1559,” Acta Musicologica 31 (1959): 159.
57Leeman Perkins, Music in the Age o f the Renaissance (New York: W. W.

Norton, 1999), 681.
58Anthony Newcomb, The Madrigal at Ferrara, 1579-1597 (Princeton, NJ:

Princeton University Press, 1980), 108.
70
pleasing but perhaps too bland style of the 1580s.”59 Madrigals published in the late
1590s contain settings of emotionally intense text joined with unusual or even
traditionally forbidden musical means that disturbed the balanced style of Renaissance
polyphony.60
The term mannerism, adopted from art history, is often used to designate this
departure from the traditional idiom of the sixteenth century. In the world of art, it was
embodied in the exaggerated and distorted forms found in the works of El Greco,
Pontormo, and Rossi.61
Mannerist art is “full of restless activity, rapid changes of mood and texture,
sharp color contrasts, unresolved tension and asymmetries, and clambering
ornamentation.”62 According to Lowinsky, “Such an aesthetic must abolish the
fundamental ideal of classical art that there are generally valid laws of beauty and binding
laws of procedure. In its place must be the notion that the ugly, the exaggerated, and the
eccentric also have a place in art”63 Watkins observed, “Subjectivity replaces objectivity,
59Newcomb, “Madrigal II, 7-12,” The New Grove, 11:472.
eoibid.
61Maria Rika Maniates, Mannerism in Italian Music and Culture, 1530-1630
(Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 1969), 393.
62Palisca, “Musica reservata,” 159.
63Lowinsky, “The Problem of Mannerism,” in Music in the Culture o f the

Renaissance, 1:141.
71
and the personal vision of the artist counterbalances the scientific view of an ordered
universe.
The distorted and extreme style of mannerism was ideally suited to the madrigal.
Earlier composers in this genre, while concerned with the mood of the text, were primarily
interested in the more superficial level of imitation exemplified in word painting, or
madrigalisms. Mannerist composers were increasingly concerned with conveying the
mood of their text, usually chosen for its extreme emotionalism rather than for its literary
value.
In order for the music to bend to the text, the unity of the modal system had to be
sacrificed. Chromaticism became an important resource for the musicican searching for a
new musical effect.65 The style was also characterized by the use of frequent changes of
texture, in which the flow of counterpoint was interrupted in order to underline a word or
phrase.66
64Glenn Watkins, Gesualdo: The Man and His Music, 2d ed. (Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1991), 102.
65Palisca, “Musica reservata,” 159.
66IbicL
72
Watkins draws these features of mannerism from the late sixteenth-century
repertory.67
1. The use of text, ambiguous or difficult to follow syntactically, that
presents imagery that allows for contrasting musical treatment.
2. A disruptive musical style, precipitated by the text, characterized by
alternations of the diatonic allegro and the chromatic adagio.
3. Harmonic progressions that can be reconciled with an older modal order or
a developing functional system, as well as many others that are difficult to
explain by any theoretical system.
4. Tonal vacillation and scarcity of clearly defined cadences.
5. Density of idea and complexity of relationships.
Gesualdo is arguably the only composer that truly can be considered to be a
mannerist, for the language of mannerism is found in all but his earliest works. Yet the
musical devices of mannerism were neither new nor limited to the composers of the
Ferrarese school. As Atlas observed, Josquin and his contemporaries were “the first to
express the emotions of a text-especially sadness-in a way that sounds thoroughly
modem and is immediately recognizable to our ears.”68 In his Prophetiae sibyllarum,
Orlande de Lassus employed the new chromatic idiom in establishing a link between
antiquity and Christianity by introducing the twelve ancient Sibyls in their prophecies of
73
the coming of Christ69 In the first nine bars, Lassus used all twelve tones and built triads
on ten different scale degrees, six of which result in harmonies foreign to the mode.70
Through the works of composers associated in some way with Ferrara, however, the
mannerist style can best be traced.
As mentioned earlier, the works of Cipriano de Rore, who began his work at the
Ferrarese court in 1547, illustrate the many types of musical devices by which verbal
imagery could be suggested. Rore was also sensitive to the overall affective atmosphere
conveyed by the poetic text This sensitivity to musical expression of textual emotion
increasingly concerned composers in the second half of the century.
The early stage of the mannerist style can be observed in the works of Giaches de
Wert (1535-1596), music director in Mantua and a frequent visitor to the Ferrarese court.
In the 1570s, Wert was associated with Tasso and Guarini, the favorite poets of
mannerist composers. Although Wert occasionally wrote in the lighter style, his most
important and most distinctive madrigals are from the 1580s and are settings of pathos
laden texts for which he designed musical gestures of “unprecedented violence and
intensity.”71 While he only occasionally resorted to the use of dissonance and
chromaticism, extravagant methods are used to depict emotions: tritones, sevenths,
ninths, and tenths mingle with abrupt silence, and the works are punctuated with a
69Lowinsky, Tonality andAtomJity, 38.
70Ibid.
71Newcomb, “Madrigal II, 7-12,” The New Grove, 11:470.
74
declamatory, austere chordal texture.72 Newcomb considers him to be one of the most
important harbingers of the seconda pratticaP
Luca Marenzio (1553 or 1554-1599), one of the most prolific and stylistically
eclectic madrigalists of the later sixteenth century, is particularly notable for the detailed
word painting of his early works and the advanced harmonic expressiveness of his later
ones.74 In the service of Cardinal Luigi d’Este in Rome, Marenzio occasionally visited
Ferrara from November 1580 to May 1581, just after his first five-voice book had been
published. His next two volumes are dedicated to Duke Alfonso II d’Este and his sister
Lucrezia.75
Marenzio displayed extraordinary range and diversity in his secular works,
“embracing the seriousness of Rore and the lightness of Andrea Gabrieli, often within a
few bars.”76 He treated the poems that he chose for his texts as a series of short phrases,
each providing material for a single musical idea. Wherever possible, he translated verbal
imagery into musical symbolism, making effective use of madrigalisms. In a different type
72Ibid.
73lbid.
74Steven Ledbetter and Roland Jackson, “Marenzio, Luca,” The New Grove,
11:667.
75lbid., 11:668.
76Ibid„ 11:669.
75
of symbolism, affective words such as fear or shame were heightened by chromatic
alteration.77
Marenzio rarely allowed his style to destroy the unity of a composition.
Ledbetter and Jackson observed, “The harmonic plan, repeated or related rhythmic
motives, contrapuntal imitation, and patterns of sonority in the interplay of voices
contribute to the work’s structure.. . . There is, moreover, a growing tendency towards
seriousness throughout his career, reflected in more sombre and intense texts set with
richer harmonies and a greater use of dissonance and chromaticism that approaches
audacious extremes.”78 In his later works, unexpected harmonic changes, often involving
chromatic degree-inflection, emphasize important words, and affective harmonies, such as
augmented triads, heighten the emotions of the text79
Giovanni de Macque (71548-50 - 1614) was not a part of the Ferrarese School,
but in the service of Fabrizio Gesualdo’s academy in Naples. While Macque was active in
Naples, he published three madrigal books. His third book of five-part madrigals,
published in 1597, primarily treats pastoral subjects, but in his fourth book, published in
1599, a change of style is evident80 In these, as well as in his keyboard works from about
77lbid.
78lbid.
79lbid.
sow. Richard Shindle, “Macque, Giovanni de,” The New Grove, 11:450.
76
the same time, he experimented with chromaticism, irregular resolutions, and bold
dissonances. The madrigals of his later books contain many unusual effects. Shindle
observed, “Striking dissonances are achieved by more bizarre means, ‘forbidden’ intervals
as well as chromatic semitones appear for the first time in his music, and he extended his
harmonic vocabulary to include F-sharp major and G-sharp minor triads.”81 His change in
style was assuredly prompted, at least in part, by the fresh new ideas brought from
Ferrara by Carlo Gesualdo.
The letters of Fontanelli, who accompanied Gesualdo to Ferrara for his marriage to
Leonora d’Este, to Duke Alfonso II tell of the esteem in which Luzzasco Luzzaschi
(ca. 1545-1607) was held in his day.82 Fontanelli reported that Luzzaschi was the only
composer for whom Gesualdo had admiration,83 and indeed Gesualdo arranged for the
posthumous collection of Luzzaschi’s madrigals.84 Following in the footsteps of his
teacher Rore, Luzzaschi’s command of a highly inflected chromatic style is evident in a
small group of pieces that stand stylistically apart from the main body of his work.85
81 Ibid.

The Musical Quarterly 54, no. 4 (October 1968): 429.
83Ibid.,4I4.
84Edmond Strainchamps, “Luzzaschi, Luzzasco,” The New Grave, 11:378.
85Perkins, Music in the Age o f the Renaissance, 685.
77
In the service of the court of Este and, therefore, on the cutting edge of its extreme
compositional techniques, Luzzaschi had well established his own personal style by the
time Fontanelli and Gesualdo, both of whom were some fifteen years younger, became
active as composers in Ferrara.86 Because of his fame, Luzzaschi exercised considerable
influence.87 That Gesualdo was affected by Luzzaschi is evidenced in the change in
compositional style in Gesualdo’s third and fourth books, published during his time in
Ferrara. Gesualdo likely influenced Luzzaschi as well. Fontanelli reported in a letter that
Gesualdo'wanted to show a few things to the older composer,88 and the influence of
Gesualdo’s musical style in his third and fourth books of madrigals is seen in Luzzaschi’s
fifth and sixth books. In these books, Luzzaschi combined Gesualdo’s harmonic palette
with his own poetic tastes, textural devices, and sensitivity to cadential weight.89
Unlike Wert, who worked with long texts in traditional forms, Gesualdo and
Luzzaschi showed a preference for the concise, witty, pointed madrigal texts written by
Ferrarese court poets.90 Luzzaschi avoided choppiness and extreme fragmentation
primarily through the way in which he employed cadences. Instead of typical cadences,
86Newcomb, The Madrigal at Ferrara, 125.
87Ibid., 126.
88Newcomb, “A Musical Correspondence,” 414.
89Newcomb, The Madrigal at Ferrara, 131.
90lbid., 116.
78
Luzzaschi used weak cadences, evaporated cadences (in which some voices drop out),
interrupted cadences, or no cadences at all.91
Luzzaschi’s later madrigals are marked by
1. Decisive change in texture
2. Greater emphasis on homophony (His style utilized simple chordal
writing which, when written in accordance with the rhythms of the text,
resulted in choral recitative.)
3. Subdued traditional harmonic language, with occasional chromaticism,
reserved for a few highly expressive phrases92
The influence of Rore, Marenzio, Luzzaschi, and other Ferrarese composers is
evident in the musical language of Gesualdo’s later madrigals, but he carried their
innovations to an extreme in his own personal expression. Gesualdo’s late work embodies
a complete departure from the conventional concept of Renaissance music. Coexisting in
the setting of one short text are unusual harmonic colors, bold modulations, striking shifts
in harmony, strongly emphasized cross relations and dissonances, sharp contrasts in
rhythm and texture, juxtaposition of harmonic phrases of extreme chromaticism and
contrapuntal passages in modal diatonicism, musical exclamations, and exaggerated tone
silbid.
92Strainchamps, “Luzzaschi, Luzzasco,” The New Grove, 11:380.
79
painting.93 His work represents the mannerist love of distortion, and the violent
contortions of texture and harmony can be compared to the techniques of El Greco,
Pontormo, and Tasso.94
Gesualdo followed each nuance of the text so carefully that “the entire musical
fabric fell into small fractions of diffuse musical ideas.”95 The lack of musical continuity
was reinforced by the use of two distinct textures evident in the works of Luzzaschi, one
characterized by the clear imitative polyphony of the Renaissance and the other by a
homophonic setting, usually coupled with extreme harmonic combinations. “The contrast
of textures corresponded to Gesualdo’s two manners of textual representation; notions of
space and movement were depicted by vivid rhythmic motives, whereas affective notions
were set with melodic and harmonic chromaticism.”96
The form in which Gesualdo most frequently composed was the five-voice
madrigal. O f the seven books of madrigals, only one, the posthumous collection of 1626,
developed the madrigal a set.97 Gesualdo’s first two books of madrigals appeared in
1594, the year of the celebration of his second marriage, and were published by the ducal
93Lowinsky, “The Problem of Mannerism,” in Music in the Culture o f the

Renaissance, 1:147.
94Maniates, Mannerism, 393.
95Bukofzer, Music in the Baroque Era, 34.
96Ibid.
97Watkins, Gesualdo, 133. Only the quinto part of book seven survives.
80
printer, Vittorio Baldini. The second book had been published previously under the
pseudonym Gioseppe Pilonij.98 The early madrigals, written before Gesualdo’s sojourn
in Ferrara, establish evidence of his command of a traditional contrapuntal language that
forms a foundation for his later experiments.
The third and fourth books of madrigals were written during Gesualdo’s stay in
Ferrara and during his six-month journey to his home in Gesualdo in the second half of
1594. Book HI appeared in March 1595 and Book IV in 1596, both published by the
ducal printer. These volumes contain the first manifestation of Gesualdo’s new and more
personal language.99
Gesualdo’s mature style can be observed in his fifth and sixth book of madrigals,
both published in 1611.100 The composer brought the Neapolitan printer Giovanni
Jacomo Carlino to Gesualdo and set up a press in the castle for the purpose of printing
these volumes.101
Giuseppe Pavoni of Genoa printed all six volumes of madrigals in a score edition
prepared by Simone Molinaro, maestro di cappella of the Cathedral of Genoa.102
9«Ibid.
99IbicL, 149-50.
looibid., 165-66.
icilbid., 167.
i02ibid., 168.
81
Gesualdo was virtually unique among the composers of his time in being honored by the
appearance of a collected edition of his madrigals. The publication of the six volumes in
score suggests that the collection was conceived as an entity and a publication date
between September and December of 1613 is likely.103
The more chromatic, emotionally charged style of Gesualdo’s third and fourth
books of madrigals is often attributed to the composer’s personal torment following the
murder of his first wife and her lover. This assumption is not supported by Fontanelli’s
letters to Duke Alfonso II, however. Gesualdo’s first ventures into this new idiom can be
attributed to the influence of the Ferrarese court and to the musical style developed by
Luzzaschi. Gesualdo was also likely influenced by the ideas of Vicentino exhibited in the
arcicembalo that remained at Duke Alfonso’s court. Gesualdo took a deep interest in the
instrument and learned to play i t 104 Historians tend to view the changes in the last two
books as a result of the last stages of a severe neurosis. Watkins observed, “But while we
can be reasonably certain that Gesualdo’s personality manifested strongly neurotic, even
psychotic, elements, which increased in intensity throughout his life, we should not fail to
notice the extent to which the most audacious moments of these later madrigals are
anticipated in earlier volumes The difference lies in the proportion and the
concentration of such ideas.”105
i03lbid, 168-69.
i04Maniates, Mannerism, 345.
i05Watkins, Gesualdo, 169.
82
Moro, lasso, a five-voice madrigal from Book VI (1611), and one of Gesualdo’s
most famous, will serve to illustrate his mature style. The poetic text, typical of those
chosen by Gesualdo, is comprised of short phrases that could be dissected, treated
separately, and repeated for emphasis. Typical also is the subject of the text, which
exemplifies Gesualdo’s obsession with death.
Moro, lasso, al mio duolo I die, alas! From my pain

E chi mi pud dar vita And the one who can give me life
ahi, che m 'anicide e non vuol darmi aita Alas, kills me and will not give me aid.
Moro, lasso, al mio duolo I die, alas! From my pain

e chi mi pud dar vita And the one who can give me life
ahi, che m ’anicide e non vuol darmi aita Alas, kills me and will not give me aid.
O dolorosa sorte, O grievous fate

chi dar vita mi pud The one who can give me life
ahi, mi da morte alas, gives me death.106
In the first phrase, the words Moro, lasso, are given a slow homophonic setting
replete with chromatic inflection created by descending chromatic motion in the outer
voices (Fig. 1). All of the chromatic pitches except A-sharp appear in the first four
measures of the madrigal. Gesualdo intensified the effect of the descending outer voices
with additional chromatic notes forming triads on C-sharp, A, B, G, and E. Root
movement in thirds, exemplified in this passage, was a favorite device of Gesualdo and
often the source of his chromaticism and cross relations.
^Translation from Charles Burkhart, Anthologyfo r Musical Analysis, 4th ed.

(New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1986), 52.
Figure 1. Chromatic setting in the first phrase of Moro, lasso, mm. 1-3.
An elided cadence connects the fragmented text to the next phrase, which
introduces a complete change of texture. Gesualdo set the text E chi mi pud dar vita
imitatively, the music coming to life in characteristic word painting on vita. Such
alternation of expanded homophonic sections with imitative polyphonic ones constitutes
an important element of Gesualdo’s compositional style (Fig. 2).
84
* . *■ u — i
chi mi puo dar vi -
dar vi
E chi mi puo dar vw~ -ta. e chi mi pno dar
y E chi mi puo dar v u “ chi mi pno
E chi mi puo dar vi -
dar vi-
Figure 2. Change of texture and use of word painting in Moro, lasso, mm. 3-10.
For the word ahi, a cry of anguish, the composer returned to a homophonic
texture, in long notes, again with successive root movements by thirds. The text che
m ’ancide e non vuol darmi aita follows in a more declamatory style (Fig. 3).
85
|0
Ahi, che man - el - de e non vuol dar-mi a -i
Ahi, chem’a n -ei-d e e nan vuol dAr-mi a - i -
- de e non vuol dar - mi i -
Ahi, chem’a n -ci- de e non vuol dar - mi a-
e non vuol dar • - mi a-
e oon vuol dar-mi a - i -
-ta, e non vuol dar-mi a - i -
e non vuol dar - mi a - i - tal
tal
Figure 3. Third relationships in a homophonic setting in Moro, lasso, mm. 10-16.
In the sustained setting of the text O dolorosa sorte, the voices begin imitatively
and coalesce into a homophonic texture punctuated with chromaticism. After a rest in the
upper voices, a straightforward chordal declamation of chi dar vita mi pud follows. The
last phrase of the text is subjected to several repetitions with the word Ahi presented in
86
the upper voice at successively higher pitch levels. In all of the voices the cry is drawn
out in sustained notes with chromatic inflection (Fig. 4).
ih i, mi d i mar -
mi d i mor- -te, tel
ihi. mar -tel
-tel
mor. - tel
Figure 4. Cries of anguish in Moro, lasso, mm. 36-42.
In the madrigal of the late sixteenth century, Gesualdo and those in his area of
influence pushed the modal system to its limit and to its conclusion in their search for the
best representation of the text As shall be seen, the musical language that Gesualdo
developed for his madrigals permeated his sacred music as well.
CHAPTER 4
THE SACRAE CANTIONES
Carlo Gesualdo remained faithful to the Church throughout his life. In the years
immediately following the murder of his first wife, he built a monastery and a chapel, and
in his will he provided for the erection and maintenance of other churches. Gesualdo also
wrote music for the Church. Three volumes of his sacred music were published during his
life: two volumes of Sacrae cantiones and a setting of the Responsoria for Holy Week.
An early motet, Ne reminiscaris Domine, also survives, as well as the Salmi delle
compiete (Psalms of Compline), from Psalm 30, published posthumously in 1620. With
the exception of the early motet, the sacred works exemplify Gesualdo’s mature style.
Although the musical settings are much like those of his madrigals, Gesualdo’s use of
fragmentation and chromaticism is less extreme.
The two volumes of Sacrae cantiones were published in 1603 in Naples by
Constantino Vitali under the editorship of Giovanni Pietro Cappuccio.1 They survive
only in single copies in the library of the Order of the Filippini in Naples.2 The first
i Glenn Watkins, “Introduction,” Gesualdo di Venosa: Samtliche Werke, 10 vols.

(Hamburg: Ugrino, 1957-67), 8:n.p.
^“Gesualdo, Don Carlo,” Einzeldrucke vor 1800,14 vols., Repertoire international

des sources musicales (Kassel: BSrenreiter, 1971-99), 3:G1718 and G1719.
87
88
volume consists of nineteen five-voice motets. The second volume contains nineteen
motets for six voices and a final one, lUumina nos, for seven voices. This is the first
collection in which Gesualdo made extensive use of the six-voice texture. He entitled each
of the two volumes Liber primus, acknowledging his use of a different texture. Only four
of the partbooks for the six-voice motets are preserved; the bassus and sextus of this
collection are missing, although the septima part survives.3 The dates of composition for
the motets are not known. Gesualdo may have begun writing them during his time in
Ferrara or in the years immediately after he returned home. Fontanelli reported that
Gesualdo completed a motet during his journey of 1594, which may have appeared in one
of these volumes.4
The five-voice motet Ne reminiscaris Domine is Gesualdo’s earliest published
work. It first appeared in a motet collection by Stefano Felis, Liber secundus motectorum,
quinis semis octonisque vocibus, of 1585.5 This product of Gesualdo’s early venture into
the genre is decidedly conservative.
3Glenn Watkins, Gesualdo: The Man and His Music, 2d ed. (Oxford: Clarendon,
1991), 245-46.

The Musical Quarterly 54, no. 4 (October 1968): 426-27.
5 Carlo Piccardi, “Carlo Gesualdo: Faristocrazia come etezione,” Rrvista italiana di

musicologia 9 (1974): 85. The motet, not included in the Sdmtliche Werke, is published in
this article (pp. 90-93).
89
Texts
A striking feature of Gesualdo’s madrigals is his choice of texts. Gesualdo
preferred the poetry of the Ferrarese poets, whose pathos-laden verses with short
phrases were ideally suited to the mannerist style. In his choice and setting of madrigal
texts, Gesualdo’s obsession with death is obvious. The Latin texts he selected for his
sacred motets are replete with similar images of suffering and death. As Einstein observed,
their content calls to mind the painting Gesualdo commissioned for the chapel of S. Maria
delie Grazie, in which a repentant sinner, surrounded by a host of saints and the Virgin
Mary, seeks forgiveness from the Savior
This is a painting with a secret personal content, and the same holds true
for these motets; it is as though personal suffering and personal anguish
sought purification, relief, and “objective” expression. This characteristic
attitude stands out when we compare Gesualdo’s motets with those of his
Neapolitan contemporaries.6
Gesualdo’s ongoing preoccupation with death is evident throughout the collection
of motets. Many of the texts are taken from the Offices for the Dead. Through them the
composer looks to his own death, such as in Domine, ne despicias (VIII: 7).7
6Alfred Einstein, The Italian Madrigal, trans. Alexander H. Krappe, Roger H.

Sessions, and Oliver Strunk, 3 vols. (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1949),
2:692.
7The Roman numerals refer to the volume of the Samtliche Werke, ed. Wilhelm
Weismann and Glenn Watkins, that contains the motet; the Arabic numeral indicates the
number o f the motet in that volume. Translations are taken from these volumes.
90
Domine, ne despicias
Deprecationem meam,
Et protege me nunc
et in hora mortis meae.
O Lord, do not despise

my supplication,
and protect me now
and at the hour of my death.
The subject matter of the motet texts can be divided into four groups: 1) those
that depict sorrow and contain pleas for peace, healing, and mercy; 2) those that are
prayers to Mary for intercession on behalf of the sinner; 3) those that relate a search for a
God that remains elusive; 4) and those that praise the Lord for his mercy. The first of
these groups portrays the suffering sinner, imploring the Savior to have mercy on him.
Clearly evident is the tortured soul of a man who would resort to flagellation to ease his
mental and spiritual pain. Consider the text of Hei mihi, Domine (VIE:8) from Matins in
the Office for the Dead.
Hei mihi, Domine, quia peccavi nimis in vita mea!

Quidfaciam, miser?
Ubifugiam, nisi ad te, Devs meu?
Miserere mei, dum veneris in novissimo die.
Woe is me, O Lord, because I have sinned greatly in my life!

What shall I do, poor wretch?
Where shall I flee, except to thee, my God?
Have mercy on me until thou comest on the Last Day.
The same misery is conveyed by Peccantem me quotidie (VIE: 10), its text taken
from a response from Matins in the Office for the Dead. The cry Miserere mei (have
mercy on me) again appears in the final line.
91
Peccantem me quotidie et non me poenitentem

Timor mortis contnrbat me,
Quia in inferno nulla est redemptio.
Miserere mei, Deus, et salva me.
Because I sin daily and do not repent,

the fear of death disturbs me,
For in hell there is no redemption.
Have mercy upon me, my God, and save me.
The contrite sinner pleads for God’s light in the five-voice motet Illumina faciem
tuam (VIII: 18) from Compline for Septuagesima Sunday.
Illumina faciem tuam super servum tuxan,

Satvum me fa c in misericordia tua. Domine
Non confundar quoniam invocavi te.
Let thy face shine upon thy servant,

Save me in thy kindness. 0 Lord,
Let me not be put to shame, for I have called upon you.
The sorrow is unmistakable in 0 vos omnes (VIII: 11), a text from the
Lamentations o f Jeremiah, set three times by Gesualdo in these volumes. 0 vos omnes is
a responsory for Holy Saturday, and also functions in the Feast of the Seven Dolours as a
short response at Terce, as the verse for the Tract Stabat Sancta Maria, and as an Alleluia
verse at Mass.8
0 vos omnes, qui transitis per viam,

Attendite et videte
Si est dolor sicut dolor meus.
All ye that pass by,

Attend and see if there be any sorrow
Like unto my sorrow.
92
Laboravi in gemitu meo (VIII:9) depicts the sinner weeping in sorrow.
Laboravi in gemitu meo,

Lavabo per singulas noctes
Lection meum:
Lacrimis meis
Stratum meum rigabo.
I am wearied with sighing;

every night I flood my bed with weeping;
I drench my couch with my tears.
In O anima sanctissima (IX: 19), sinners ask the Holy Spirit to intercede for them
so that these tears may be dissolved.
O anima sanctissima a Jesu tarn dilecta,

humiles te deprecamur
Ut nobis pro peccatorum culpa languentibus
Te intercedente contritionis
Lachrymae concedantur.
O most Holy Spirit so loved by Jesus,

Humbly we pray that by your intercession for us,
Languishing for the guilt of our sins,
the tears of our contrition may be dissolved.
Eight of the motets are addressed to the Virgin Mary, the sinners asking her to
intercede in their behalf. The five-voice collection begins with a setting of one of the four
Marian antiphons (VIII:1).
Ave, Regina coelorum;

Ave, Domina Angelorum
Salve, radix sancta, ex qua mundo lux est orta,
Gaude, gloriosa, super omnes speciosa,
Vale, O valde decora, et pro nobis semper Christum exora.
Hail, Queen of heaven,

Hail, Lady of the angels;
93
Hail, holy source from which the light of the world has arisen.
Hail, glorious Virgin, radiant above all;
Hail, O most beautiful one, and pray always to Christ for us.
The third motet from that collection (VHI:3) voices the same supplication.
Ave, dulcissima Maria,

Vera spes et vita,
Dulce refrigerivml
0, Maria, flos virginum, ora pro nobis Jesum.
Hail, most gentle Mary,

True hope and light,
Cool fount of refreshment!
O Mary, flower among virgins, pray to Jesus for us.
Gesualdo also began the collection of six- and seven-voice motets with an appeal
to Mary (IX: 1) that also reflects his obsession with death.
Virgo benedicta
Esto mihi adjutrix
Quoniam nimis tribulor
Intercede pro me
Nunc et in hora mortis meae.
Blessed Virgin,
Help me as I am sore distressed;
Intercede for me
Now and at the hour of my death.
Gesualdo’s motet paying homage to St Francis (1X18), an alleluia verse from the
Mass for September 17, recalls the saint’s appearance in the altar painting.
Franciscos humilis et pauper,

Dives caelum ingreditur et splendore indutus,
Hymnis caelestibus honoratur.
94
Francis, humble and poor,

Enters heaven rich and clothed in splendor,
And he is honored with celestial hymns.
The six-voice motet Ardens est cor meum (IX: 14) expresses the tortured soul
seeking God and unable to find him.
Ardens est cor meum videndi Dominum meum;

Lachrymans quaero et non invenio eum.
My heart bums to see my Lord;

I seek him weeping and do not find him.
From the depths of despair springs hope of redemption. In the five-voice motets,
the texts are primarily those of sorrow, guilt, repentance, and need for mercy. These
themes are continued in the second volume, yet its texts are more hopeful, praising God
for his mercy. Ad te levavi (IX: 17), an introit from the first Sunday of Advent, expresses
Gesualdo’s reassurance upon placing his hope in God.
A d te levavi animam meam:

Domine Deus mens
In te confido, non erubescam.
I have raised my spirit to thee;

O Lord my God
In thee do I trust, and I shall not be ashamed.
Further praise for redemption through Christ is offered in Adoramus te Christe
(IX: 10). The text is the short response for Sext on May 3.
Adoramus te Christe
Et benedicimus tibi.
Quia per sanctum crucem tuam
Et passionem tuam
Redemisti mundum.
95
We adore thee and we bless thee, O Christ

Because by thy holy passion and cross
Thou hast redeemed the world.
Gesualdo was very likely inspired in his choice of texts by the collection of
Scipione Stella, the Neapolitan composer who edited the Baldini publications of
Gesualdo’s first two books of madrigals. Stella produced a motet collection, dedicated to
Duke Alfonso 13, in 1595, while he was in Ferrara with Gesualdo. Watkins observed,
“The contents of this volume, which likewise issued from the presses of Baldini, is
striking for the large number of texts which it has in common with Gesualdo’s two
volumes of 1603. Of the twenty motet texts utilized by Stella, Gesualdo set fourteen;
four in his five-voice set and ten in his set of six and seven-voice pieces.”9
In addition, Gesualdo’s choice of texts, while obviously reflecting his personal
strife, was not unusual. Drawing their inspiration from the emotionally charged madrigal,
composers of late sixteenth-century sacred music often used texts that could be set in a
similarly exaggerated musical style. The distorted expressiveness of the mannerist style
manifested itself through the texts set as motets.
Throughout the fifteenth century, the celebration of the liturgical times of the day
and the year, the adoration of the Virgin and of the saints, and the story of salvation were
the central texts set to music. Beginning in the last decades of the fifteenth and throughout
the sixteenth century, there was a shift from the objective symbolism of the doctrine of
priestly mediation to the subjective realm of man’s relation to God in the face of sin,
9Watkins, Gesualdo, 253. Watkins provides a list for comparison on 253-54.
96
suffering, and death.10 Reflecting the influence of humanism, many composers selected
texts that communicated directly to God. Bypassing the church as intermediary, these
texts speak of the personal relationship between God and the human soul.11 Many of the
motet texts of the time also dealt with great figures in the depth of despair: Job, David
mourning the death of Jonathan or the death of Absalom, Rachel weeping over her lost
children, the Prodigal Son, and especially Christ suffering on the cross.12
Musical Settings
Text Treatment
For his Sacrae cantiones, Gesualdo chose short texts, sometimes utilizing only
part of the original chant to allow for maximum use of repetition to illuminate certain
words. Gesualdo viewed the phrases of the texts not as units, but as individual words that
could be manipulated to portray the meaning of the text more effectively. While his use of
fragmentation in the sacred music is not as extreme as that found in his madrigals,
Gesualdo clearly relied upon the alternation of homophonic and polyphonic sections as a
structural principle even in the Sacrae cantiones. This tendency, brought to full flower in
lOEdward Lowinsky, “Music in the Culture of the Renaissance,” in Music in the

Culture o f the Renaissance, ed. Bonnie Blackburn, 2 vols. (Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1989), 1:25.
11Edward Lowinsky, Secret Chromatic Art in the Netherlands Motet, trans. Carl
Buchman (New York: Russell and Russell, 1946; reprint, 1967), 118.
i2Lowinsky, “Music in the Culture of the Renaissance,” in Music in the Culture o f

the Renaissance, 1:25.
97
his late works, is already evident in the division and repetition of the text in Gesualdo’s
early motet, Ne reminiscaris Domine.
Robert Craft classified the formal schemes of the Sacrae cantiones into two
general types.
The first o f these is the “sacred song of uninterrupted polyphony in

which, straight through, rectilinearly, and with hardly a silent beat, a
simple motive and one or more subsidiary motives are developed.. . . The
second form is more sectional. It begins homophonically, goes on to a
longer polyphonic section, and concludes by repeating either the first or
the second sections, but with significant changes.”13
Domine, ne despicias (VDI:7; full text quoted above) provides a clear example of
Gesualdo’s manner of fragmentation and repetition of text. The seamless contrapuntal
setting of the first phrase disguises the disruption that sets the stage for reiteration of
individual words. Gesualdo’s repetition presents a halting style of speech wherein part of
a phrase may be stated or repeated before the phrase fully unfolds or is repeated in its
entirety. Multiple repetitions of the beginning text, Domine, ne despicias, sometimes
itself divided by a rest after the word Domine, occur before the phrase is completed with
deprecationem meam. Afterward, the entire phrase is presented.
The following phrase, et protege me nunc et m hora mortis meae (protect me now
and in the hour of my death), undergoes a similar, even more protracted, treatment. The
13Robert Craft, Preface to Gesualdo-Stravinsky, Tres Sacrae Cantiones:

Completion o f Three Motets by Gesualdo (London: Boosey & Hawkes, 1960), quoted in
Watkins, Gesualdo, 255.
98
fragmentation and repetition emphasize the text by presenting each segment separately
and repeating each section numerous times (Fig. 5).
et p ro - te - g e
? r r ir V
oro-te - ce me nunc*»t_
et pro - te - ge me nune et in ho m ertu me

'A
et p ro -tc - go et in ho re m orm
me nuncet in ho
pro - te - ge m ho re mortis et
re mor-tis in ho
e t pro nuncet re m or-tis me
m o r-tu me
pro te -g e
in ho-re mortis me tc» et p ro -te -g e me nuncet m ho - n
nuncet in ho-re m or-tu nuncet in_ ho
et p r o - te - g e pro - te -g e me nunc. nunc et.
nuncet
mortis me et pro • te -g e me nunc, et in ho
in h o - r e m or-tu me
in ho- >tis me
m or-tis me et in b o - r e mortis me
in h o - r e m ortis m e -se-
re m or - h i me nunc. et. in ho re mortis
Figure 5. Text fragmentation and repetition in Domine, ne despicias, mm. 21-47.
99
Texture
Polyphonic
More prominent in the Sacrae cantiones, especially those for six or seven voices,
than in the madrigals are passages of traditional Renaissance counterpoint The opening
measures of the five-voice motet Ave, dulcissima Maria (Vni:3) show the clear
contrapuntal style that formed the foundation for Gesualdo’s more innovative text
settings (Fig. 6).
tt, dul - eii - u • oiA M a « ri - a, dul - cis » ii> s u
d u l- c u • n • ma Ma * ri - a, K
d u l-c u
d u i- c u - s . ma —
S dul • c u • - 11 • m a ____ Ma - r i d s ! - c u * si - m a M a- ri
Figure 6. Contrapuntal setting in Ave, dulcissima Maria, mm. 1-9.
100
Also evident in this motet is another characteristic of Gesualdo’s compositional
style. The voices enter in pairs at uneven rhythmic intervals, with the last voice, the altus,
entering alone. The voices begin on the expected steps of the Dorian mode of the piece
(D, A, D, F) except for the B-flat in the quintvs. The same technique occurs in Veni
Creator spiritus (DC: 8), this time the pitches of the entrances reflecting the first, third,
and fifth degrees of the Mixolydian mode. The four extant voices enter in pairs at uneven
rhythmic intervals, the tenor beginning with the word Creator (Fig. 7).
C • ni Cr* to r,
ft
• al Crt to r spl -
r
b
Cm
toa apt
Cm
Cm to r »pi -
Figure 7. Contrapuntal setting and imitative entries in Veni Creator spiritus, mm. 1-10.
101
Occasionally one voice does not fully participate in the imitative texture. In
Reminiscere miserationum tuanan (VH1:4), the altus enters first and continues in a
melodic line that is not literally repeated, even in the other two voices that enter on D
(Fig. 8).
Figure 8. Imitative style in Reminiscere miserationum tuarum, mm. 1-12.
Homophonic
The homophonic sections in Gesualdo’s sacred motets, set in stark contrast with
the polyphonic ones, usually contain the most extreme chromaticism and set the most
102
impassioned texts. Although voice leading in Gesualdo’s homophonic passages usually
follows the rules of linearly conceived polyphony, these sections, often set apart by
rests, were clearly contrived as triads.
The Sacrae cantiones, all written alia breve, have less contrast in note values with
greater textual uniformity than the madrigals. However, sudden changes in rhythmic
activity, like those found in the madrigals, amplify the disruption created by the
alternation of homophonic and polyphonic sections. The most striking harmonic passages
occur in a texture that Watkins calls ilthe homophonic adagio.”14
While the six- and seven-voice motets are on the whole more contrapuntal than
those with five voices, homophonic sections do occur. The opening of the six-voice motet
Gaudeamus omnes (let us all rejoice) (EX:7), in which Gesualdo used homophony portray
the multitude implied by the text, provides an example of Gesualdo’s homophonic style
in contrast with the polyphony that follows (Fig. 9).
HWatkins, Gesualdo, 255.
103
5
A
r Oau
stum til brma tM
stum *• - I* • bras
s tu a e* b ra a t«
Figure 9. Opening homophonic setting followed by contrapuntal texture

in Gaudeamus omnes, mm. 1-10.
Gesualdo used the device internally as well. In Ave, Regina coelonan (VTH:1) the
polyphonic texture is interrupted by the homophonic cry Gaude (Hail) (Fig. 10).
Figure 10. Internal homophonic passage in Ave, Regina coelonm, mm. 27-31.
Modality
The Sacrae cantiones are based in the modal system of the sixteenth century and
are arranged in the collections according to mode (Tables 1 and 2).
105
Five-Voice Motets
Motet Mode
1. Ave, Regina coelomm Dorian
2. Venit lumen tuum Dorian
3. Ave, dulcissima Maria Dorian
4. Reminiscere miserationum tuarum Transposed Dorian (on G)
5. Dignare me, laudare te Transposed Dorian (on G)
6. Domine, corda nostra Transposed Dorian (on G)
7. Domine, ne despicias Phrygian
8. Hei mihi, Domine Phrygian
9. Laboravi in gemitu meo Transposed Phrygian (on A)
10. Peccantem me quotidie Transposed Phrygian (on A)
11. 0 vos omnes Transposed Phrygian (on A)
12. Exaudi, Dens deprecationem Mixolydian
13. Precibus et meritis beatae Mariae Mixolydian
14. 0 Crux benedicta Aeolian
15. Tribularer si nescirem Aeolian
16. Deus refugium Aeolian
17. Tribulationem et dolorem inveni Aeolian
18. Illumina faciem tuam Transposed Ionian (on F)
19. Maria, mater gratiae Transposed Ionian (on F)
Table 1. Contents of the five-voice Sacrae cantiones indicating the mode of each motet.
106
Six-Voice Motets
Motet Mode
1. Virgo benedicta Dorian
2. Da pacem Domine Dorian
3. Sana me Domine Transposed Dorian (on G)
4. Ave sanctissima Maria Transposed Dorian (on G)
5. 0 Oriens, splendor Phrygian
6. Discedite a me omnes Phrygian
7. Gaudeamus omnes Mixolydian
8. Veni Creator spiritvs Mixolydian
9. 0 sacrum convivium Mixolydian
10. Adoramus te Christe Mixolydian
11. Veni sponsa Christi Transposed Ionian (on F)
12. Assumpta est Maria Transposed Ionian (on F)
13. Verba mea Aeolian
14. Ardens est cor meum Aeolian
15. Ne derelinquas me Aeolian
16. 0 Beata Mater Lydian
17. A d te levavi Lydian
18. Franciscus humilis et pauper Transposed Aeolian (on D)
19. 0 anima sanctissima Transposed Aeolian (on D)
Seven-Voice Motet
20. Illumina nos Aeolian
Table 2. Contents of the six- and seven-voice Sacrae cantiones indicating the mode
of each m otet
The strong modal foundation of Gesualdo's sacred motets keeps them from
disintegrating despite excessive fragmentation. Even in the most chromatic of Gesualdo’s
motets, O vos omnes (VIII:11), significant cadences occur on important modal degrees
within an ABB structure. In a gesture used frequently by Gesualdo, the motet, in
107
transposed Phrygian on A, opens with a short homophonic statement on C, the
important third modal step, before moving to the A of the mode. Cadential points focus
on either E or A with the exception of the first point of imitation, which cadences on D,
accepted as an important modal step by the end of the sixteenth century (Table 3).
First point of imitation Begins on C Ends on D

Second point of imitation Begins on B-flat Ends on E
Third point of imitation Begins on a Ends on A
Fourth point of imitation Begins on B-flat Ends on E
(repeats second)
Fifth point of imitation Begins on a Ends on A
(repeats third)
Table 3. Cadential points in O vos omnes.
The technique used in the opening of 0 vos omnes occurs inAve sanctissima
Maria (IX:4) as well. The exclamation of Ave (Hail) occurs on a triad on B-flat, the third
degree in the setting in transposed Dorian. The third relationship plays an important role
in these works and will be indicated in the figures by ( 3 _) . The juxtaposition of the B-
flat triad and the G triad creates a melodic tritone in the altus. The characteristic pause
follows before the main body of the piece begins on the modal center of G (Fig. 11).
108
Figure 11. Opening gesture in Ave sanctissima Maria, mm. 1-3.
Not only did Gesualdo use liturgical texts for his Sacrae cantiones, his music
reflects the influence of the chant melodies as well. Several of the motets suggest
plainsong incipits and two quote the chant extensively.15
The plainchant provides the characteristic three-note motive used in the five-voice
motet Venit lumen ham (VIII:2), an antiphon from the Second Vespers of Epiphany (Fig.
12). The recurring three-note motive of Gesualdo’s first subject is presented in all voices
except the altus, which provides the counterpoint (Fig. 13).
i5Watkins provides information regarding these borrowings as well as sources for

many of the texts {Gesualdo, 257).
109
2. Ant. * J j. - '
t r - - —
v5 « 4
T vJ
V Enit lumen tu-um * Je- ni-sa-
f- z 1
«Vi * «% . »« V 34 _jSfl V~ ~~1
Af- -•» I
lem, et glo- ri- a D o- mi-ni super te orta est,
g------------------:---------- !-------------------- !------------
■ *•
v-%=S=
et am bu-labunt gdntes in lumi-ne tu-o, al-le- lu-ia.
Figure 12. Plainchant, Venit lumen tuum (LU 463).
a
ut Itt • - men tu
ft
&
✓aHI
i In . men t u -
i snr ^ ■ — ’— ■ * ■♦i
nm , tc - • tut lu - m en tu *
^3 ' -i rnt ui
«m en t u - ~ "•** • oa* lu
i lu - oxen t u * • ua,
% t“!T -n it
Figure 13. Use o f plainchant in Venit lumen tuum, mm. 1-10.
110
The torculus over the first syllable of the word Jerusalem inspires the motive for
Gesualdo’s setting of the word (Fig. 14). The ascending fourth on the text et gloria in the
chant is used to set the same text in three of the five voices of the motet.
Figure 14. Use of plainchant in Venit lumen tuum, mm. 16-19.
For Hei mihi, Domine (Vni:8), a responsory from Matins of the Office for the
Dead, Gesualdo employs the opening motive from the plainchant (Fig. 15) both in its
original form and in inversion (Fig. 16).
■« ,• - . *■ 1. •" » !
1 1 "V
E- i mi-hi! * Domine, qui- a peccavi ni-
1 ■ -- i . • , « .k J . • , 5 i ■*« -, -,
T : • «? O 1! JL - • i i V i * 1
mis in vita me- a. Quid fa-ci-am mt- ser? u- hi
Figure 15. Plainchant, Hei mihi, Domine (LU 1791).
Ill
& IP
Figure 16. Use of plainchant in Hei mihi, Domine, mm. 1-11.
By the time Gesualdo was writing his sacred music, the cantus firmus technique
was passe. Gesualdo employed it only three times in his sacred works, twice in the
Sacrae cantiones and once in the Responsoria.16 The two examples in the Sacrae
cantiones are the only motets involving canons, Da pacem Domine (IX:2) and Assumpta
112
est Maria (IX: 12).17 In Da pacem Domine the plainchant (Fig. 17) appears as a cantos
firmus in the tenor (Fig. 18). Set in long note values, it is faithful to the original chant,
especially when compared with the freedom with which Gesualdo employed the chant
sources sampled previously. The tenor is marked canon in diapente, or at the fifth. The
realization of this canon, which is marked by signum congruentiae, creates the quintus.18
Igor Stravinsky’s version of the missing bassus in his Tres Sacrae Cantiones of I960 is
included in the Sdmtliche Werke. Regarding his additions to Gesualdo’s music, Stravinsky
said, “I have not tried to guess ‘what Gesualdo would have done,’ however—though I
would like to see the original—1 have even chosen solutions that I am sure are not
Gesualdo’s.” 19
T) - ■ ■ ' - — ■—
y j A pacem Dom ine in di-ebus nostris : qui-a
non est i-li- us qui pugnet pro ndbis, ni-si tu
</ ■ n_ 11
D d- us noster
Figure 17. Plainchant, Da pacem Domine (LU 1867).
I71bid.
is Watkins, Gesualdo, 246.
i^Igor Stravinsky and Robert Craft, “Gesualdo,” in Conversations with Igor

Stravinsky (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1959), 33.
113
a
Do nl - or
5
Do mX
A Do Do mi Do
r
&
* earn Do mi liu ao
Do mi • a* boa
CP
Do
• ttr ia , btu ao
- ttr ia bos no -s tr ia >
• mi - a t but ao »tria« In ao -
Do - 41.
ml • ao ttria
Do -
Figure 18. Use of plainchant cantus firmus in Da pacem Domine, mm. 1-16.
114
The other instance of the use of cantosfirmus occurs in Gesualdo’s setting of
Assvmpta est Maria (IX: 12), the antiphon for the second Vespers of August 15 (Fig. 19).
Canon at the diapente and diapason (the fifth and the octave) are indicated with the latter
supplying the missing sextus part Entrances of the canonic voices are again indicated in
the original by signa congruentiae.20 Set in a fairly dense texture, the work is
characterized by clear use of traditional counterpoint with imitative entries and careful use
of dissonance (Fig. 20). Once again, the bassus has been supplied by Stravinsky.
a _ ■ ■ *•
a t 1 "■ .
« ■ a 3
Xx Ssum pta est Ma-ri-a in cae-lum : * gauden: An-
a . i1 ■ a 11 1 ■
» «• i a -3 a V . a _ i V
1
• a a a*
ge-li, lauddnces be-nedi-cunt Ddminum, E u o u a e.
Figure 19. Plainchant, Assumpta est Maria. (LU 1605).
115
I^ ill = " —1
-------- 1- - I P ' ~ J
u r B "
Ai - sum • - pta u t l£a> r l •
Resolutia in Diapaun C f
Aa - sum -
Rtsolutio in DiaptnU
¥
Canos is D iap aso n e t O tapeste
i ; ,;■■■? j j i ■■ if' f =!
V As - som • pta est Ka - r t • a
y Aa * xum - pta est Ma - "" - rt a in
'/.t • i '* f -if- ii-. — r ;.*
- lam* * • - s u m - p t* m
Figure 20. Use of plainchant cantus firm us in Assumpta est Maria, mm. 1-17.
116
Word Painting
Drawing from the style of his madrigals, Gesualdo designed his motets to convey
both the mood of the text and literal representation of particular words. Some excellent
examples of Gesualdo’s word painting or madrigalisms are pressed into service for the
Sacrae cantiones. A typical example occurs on the word aspersione (sprinkle) in Domine,
corda nostra (VUI:6). Gesualdo portrays the word with a melisma, then sprinkles the
motive throughout the parts (Fig. 21).

C
A uS—■
i ti- rp tr •
Q
r
&
r*
n tfo tc u n
11468462
- u • o - a t f o t - c u n - d tt,
L . I ■ ' 1— r r >
u tl - a a 4 - tp c r - . u* o ll* to*-cun - d tt.
•#** ♦- u u vs
V ' ^ V
- 11-0 . n t fo t.c u a
rt -V
ti - ma a * rp tr-s i . o - - ae fo* - cun - det.
f e P r
“ m --------------------------
u * .vs
a - w - - S i o - a t fo*-can - d tt.
Figure 21. Use of word painting in Domine, corda nostra, mm. 26-38.
117
O Crux benedicta (VIII: 14) contains two examples of Renaissance word painting.
The word portare (carries) is depicted by a leap followed by a melisma (Fig. 22).
Figure 22. Use of word painting in O Crux benedicta, mm. 22-26.
For the word coelorum (heaven), Gesualdo uses an ascending line (Fig. 23).
C
f)
T ct Oo * m i
& tt Oo - mi - sum . et Do - rm-

coe - lo -
Figure 23. Use of word painting in 0 Crux benedicta, mm. 37-41.
118
Gesualdo effectively repeats the text sed ut magis convertatur et vivat (that he
may turn from his way and live) in Tribularer si nescirem (VIII: 15) with a turning figure
that ends in a lively melisma on vivat (Fig. 24).
*6
- ru t, sed a t m u -g it
P
A gu eon - tut
a
- ta tar, con -rtr - te -
08438469
Q
r
&
ted a t me
eon o v e r ' ta * ta r . r a t, et n - - rat.
Figure 24. Use of word painting in Tribularer si nescirem, mm. 46-61.
119
Octave leaps portray the rising sun at the beginning of 0 Oriens, splendor (IX: 5),
and leaps of fourths and fifths set repetitions of the text (Fig. 25).
/ A
V *—* » 1 ■a- -•— <--------- / ‘ * = ------- ---------------------------- '

- r t- tn s , tplta ♦ - dor. 0 0 - rt - too, tp ita - dor.
It- — - r ;
V — tp lta - . dor. ip ita - dor, 0 0 * rt»tat, tplta-
*■ Bl '
V 0 - rl*«ai. •p ita * * - dor, 0 0 * r i * t a t, (p ita *
ffr ■» I r< - " ■ ■ i* 1r r H

V dor. 0 0 • r t-# n t,_ 0 0 - r i-« a t, 0
r r - t r — '-§ ■ ! ~ ~ t 1
Figure 25. Use of word painting in O Oriens, splendor, mm. 1-10.
A descending motive conveys the word sedentes (those who sit) (Fig. 26).
Figure 26. Use of word painting in O Oriens, splendor, mm. 40-45.
Chromaticism
The most outstanding feature of Gesualdo’s music, both secular and sacred, is his
use of chromaticism. It is in the extent of his use of this technique that Gesualdo stands
apart from his contemporaries.21 Because chromaticism was used by Renaissance
composers to suggest suffering and anguish, it is not surprising that the five-voice Sacrae
cantiones and the Reponsoria contain more chromaticism than the Sacrae cantiones in six
and seven voices with their more joyful texts.
Karol Berger provides valuable insight into the contemporary view of
chromaticism.22 Berger observed that Vicentino believed that the modes were endowed
with power to express emotion and that the composer was to choose the mode that was
21 However, precedent was set by Lassus in his Prophetiae sibyllarum.
22Karol Berger, Theories o f Chromatic and Enharmonic Music in Late 16th

Century Italy (Ann Arbor, MI: UMI Research Press, 1976).
121
best suited to convey the passion of the text. Once the mode of the piece had been
chosen, however, the skillful composer was free to insert elements of other modes into his
composition for variety and beauty.23 Chromatically altered pitches were viewed as the
result of transposition of the mode and were, therefore, diatonic in some other
transposition of the mode, while remaining chromatic in relation to the prevailing mode of
a piece. Berger explained thus:
Chromatic series can be generated from the diatonic one when the latter is
fixed on a specific pitch-level and then transposed as many times as is
necessary in order to have any one step of the series correspond to each of
the specific pitches produced by the original fixing and by all previous
transpositions. Putting together all original and transposed pitches will
produce the twelve-step chromatic series.24
Through these transpositions and the extended use of musica ficta, Gesualdo had at his
disposal all twelve pitches of the chromatic scale.
Gesualdo often approached the highest note in a motive by inflected half step. In
this passage from Domine, ne despicias (VIII:7), in Phrygian mode, the motive in the bass
is imitated by both the tenor and cantus, requiring chromatic inflection to approach the
notes D and G. The leading tone inflection will be indicated in the figures by>* (Fig. 27).
23lbidL, 31-33.
24Ibid„ 101.
122
A
Do-
€1
de • pre.ca.ti - o-oem m e -
T
pre.ca.ti * o-oem me
(b
Figure 27. Leading tone inflection in Domine, ne despicias, mm. 11-14.
Gesualdo’s music exhibits a preference for chromatically altered upper and lower
neighboring tones.25 In Ave, dulcissima Maria (VIII:3), the upper neighbor B-flat is used
in the tenor for the sake of imitation of the half-step motion in the altus and in close
proximity to F-sharp, the leading tone of G, in the cantus. The neighbor inflection will be
indicated in the figures by^~^ , or by when it includes the leading tone (Fig. 28).
Figure 28. Neighbor inflections in^ve, dulcissima Maria, mm. 14-17.
25Faye-Ellen Silverman, “Gesualdo: Misguided or Inspired?” Current Musicology,

no. 16 (1973): 50.
123
However, Gesualdo’s daring musical language results in great part from his use of
a three-note chromatic motive, likely inspired by Vicentino’s study of the Greek genera.
Based on the tetrachord, Vicentino’s chromatic genus consists of B, C, C-sharp, and E,
utilizing one natural and one chromatic half step.26 In Gesualdo’s motets, the typical
three-note chromatic motive may be extended to four or more pitches, sometimes with
intervening pitches. It may occur in more than one voice or be passed between voices.27 It
may also be twisted rather than in straight ascending or descending form. In^ve, Regina
coelorum (Vm:3) the descending chromatic line sets the text semper Christum exora
(always pray to Christ for us). The motive first appears in the cantus expanded to a four-
note gesture (B-flat - A - G-sharp - G-natural) followed by a four-note gesture in the
bassus (G - F-sharp - F-natural - E). The use of the motive in the quintus (mm. 53-54)
and bassus (mm. 56-60) is of particular-interest A minor third is added to the three-note
chromatic motive (A - G-sharp - G-natural - E in the quintus; D - C-sharp - C-natural - A
in the bassus) completing the entire chromatic tetrachord described by Vicentino. The
chromatic motive will be circled in the figures (Fig. 29).
26Maria Rika Maniates, “Botrigari versus Sigonio: On Vicentino and His Ancient
Music Adapted to Modem Pratice,” in Musical Humanism and Its Legacy: Essays in
Honor o f Claude V. Palisca, ed. Nancy KovalefFBaker and Barbara Russo Hanning
(Stuyvesant, NY: Pendragon Press, 1992), 89.
27An illuminating discussion of this view of Gesualdo’s technique occurs in Faye-

Ellen Silverman, “Gesualdo: Misguided or Inspired?” 49-54. For further discussion of
Gesualdo’s use of chromaticism, see Carl Dahlhaus, “Zur chromatischen Technik Carlo
Gesualdos,” Analecta musicologica 4 (1967): 76-96, and Michael F. Burdick, “Phrase
Painting and Goal Orientation in Two Late Gesualdo Madrigals,” Indiana Theory Review
5, no. 2 (Winter 1982): 16-33.
124
* teswper C h ji-rtu m , icm 1 - £4* Cliri ^ rtu m e - ro - n t
et pro do •
mmjg
pro no -
C h ra-itu m • - zo • p er C hri
p e r. Mm* per Quei-ctum t - zo -
p er CbrMtDm e . zo -
p*y, t e a * p er C h n * stum
t e a - p e r U m * irom
Figure 29. Chromatic motive in Ave, Regina coelonm, mm. 49-60.
The chromatic motive is used both in its descending and ascending form to set the
text umbra mortis (shadow of death) in 0 Oriens, splendor (IX: 5) (Fig. 30).
125
a
• o t - brts.
s
Q
a t - brt>
% brts - bn m ar
f it •brm m ar
Figure 30. Chromatic motive in O Oriens, splendor, mm. 54-63.
The three-note motive is used less frequently in the motets in six voices. In Ave
sanctissima Maria (IX:4), the end of the phrase is set with the chromatic motive in the
cantvs and the altus (Fig 31).
126
Figure 31. Chromatic motive in Ave sanctissima Maria, mm 1-6.
Gesualdo’s chromatic style results in the frequent appearance of cross relations.
In Ave sanctissima Maria (Fig. 31), the employment of a triad on B-flat followed by one
on G results in a cross relation between the B-flat in the quintus and the B-natural in the
altus. In Domine, corda nostra (VIII: 6) the cross relation is created by the use of F-sharp
in the penultimate sonority to provide the leading tone. The use of the leading tone results
in the occurrence of both major and minor triads on D (Fig. 32), a juxtaposition frequently
used by Gesualdo in these works. The cross relation will be indicated in the figures by X .
e
A
Cl
r
b . —
>
._________________________
o - a* fo«*cun - dct.
_
Figure 32. Cross relation in Domine, corda nostra, mm. 37-38.
127
Cross relations also appear internally as well. In Reminiscere miserationvm
tvarum (VEH:4), the chromatic alteration once more changes the sonority of the
consonances over the D in the bassus from minor to major (Fig. 33).
a
tu
-r
6 aum tu
Figure 33. Cross relation in Reminiscere miserationvm tvarum, mm. 13-16.
A cross relation in Hei mihi, Domine (VTH:8) is brought about by Gesualdo’s use
of the chromatic motive in the bassus, where a G-sharp immediately follows a G in the
cantus (Fig. 34).
a
r
6 dam
Figure 34. Cross relation and chromatic motive in

Hei mihi, Domine, mm. 48-49.
128
Cross relations are suggested in Ave, Regina coelorum (VIII: 1) in the setting of the
text et pro nobis (and for us). After the previous phrase cadences on B, the tenor voice
enters on F-sharp, followed by the bassus on C-sharp. The cantus enters on F and the
quintus on C. In addition to the obvious cross relations created by use of both the natural
and the chromatic forms of F and C is the diminished fourth relationship of the bassus C-
sharp and the altus F. The uneven time intervals of the entrance, a device Gesualdo used
frequently in these motets, increases the intensity of the effect (Fig. 35).
pro ao * b u
bia
2? r*. / pro
^8 ^ pro bo bu<
et pro ao rt pro bo - bu
Figure 35. Cross relations in^ve, Regina coelorum, mm. 46-50.
Harmony
Gesualdo’s use of chromaticism provides a point of departure for an examination
of his harmonic language. Most attempts to explain Gesualdo’s harmonic style have been
made from a tonal perspective.28 Musicologists and theorists of the nineteenth century
28Two dissertations that discuss Gesualdo’s music from a tonal perspective are
John Anderson, “The Cadence in the Madrigals of Gesualdo,” PhD. Diss., Catholic
University of America, 1964, and George Marshall, “The Harmonic Laws in the
Madrigals of Carlo Gesualdo,” PhD. Diss., New York University, 1956.
129
established the history of music theory as it is studied today. According to these scholars
tonality was the language toward which music had evolved; hence their analyses were
made from a tonal perspective.29 Certainly much of the impact of Gesualdo’s works
upon the modem listener is the composer’s use of a harmonic language that hints at a
tonality that remains unrealized. More insight into Gesualdo’s works and their impact on
contemporary listeners can be gained, however, from attempting to determine the way in
which Gesualdo’s music was understood in his own time.
Modality is generally recognized to be a linear process, although Benito Rivera has
observed that “scholars have finally rejected the notion that Medieval and Renaissance
counterpoint involved a ‘purely linear’ process or that the ensuing harmonies of a
polyphonic piece depended primarily upon the whims of the individual melodic lines.”30
Triadic harmony was not new to the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries; it is
encountered as early as the conductus of the Medieval period. Gesualdo’s employment of
triads was presaged as early as the fifteenth century as “it was becoming increasingly
common to think of these composite sonorities not as combinations of smaller
consonances, but rather as a larger consonance divided into its concordant constituents for
29Joel Lester, Between Modes and Keys: German Theory, 1592-1802 (Stuyvesant,
NY: Pendragon, 1989), vii.
30Benito V. Rivera, “Harmonic Theory in Musical Treatises of the Late Fifteenth

and Early Sixteenth Centuries,” Music Theory Spectrum 1 (1979): 80.
130
harmonious effect.”31 Zarlino explained major and minor triads in his Istitiaioni
harmoniche, although he did not use those terms. In discussing the triad, he recognized
that the triad C-E-G and E-G-B were constituted of the same intervals, a major third and a
minor third. According to Zarlino, the effect of the triads differed because of the position
of the major third.32
Joel Lester observed that a description of triadic inversion occurred long before
Rameau’s famous treatise. On this issue, Lester cites Otto Siegfried Hamish’s Artis
mvsicae (1608), in which the German theorist related the first and second inversions of
the triad to the root position form and differentiated the root from the lowest note.33
Theoretical treatises generally describe techniques already being used by composers, and
Hamish’s understanding of the invertibility of triads opens the door to the possibility
that Gesualdo understood them in this way as well.
Gesualdo’s triadic harmony occurs on different modal steps, with the first, third,
and fifth being the most common. Triads built on the fourth step are also prominent,
indicating a move toward tonality. Gesualdo shows a preference for bass movement by
step and by fifth. However, bass movement by third is another important element of his
3 Zeeman L. Perkins, Music in the Age o f the Renaissance (New York: W. W.

Norton, 1999), 1041.
32Gioseffo Zarlino, Istitiaioni harmoniche (1558), 1H, Chapter 31, trans. Guy A.
Marco and Claude V. Palisca (New Haven; Yale University Press, 1968), 69.
33Joel Lester, “Major-Minor Concepts and Modal Theory in Germany,” Journal

o f the American Musicological Society 30 (1977): 223.
131
language, and his use of juxtaposed major triads moving in thirds accounts for many of the
composer’s chromatic inflections and cross relations. Indeed, much of Gesualdo’s
chromaticism seems to serve primarily to change the quality of his vertical sonorities,
most often from minor to major. As the sustained homophonic passages in the motets
unfold, seemingly unrelated sonorities are juxtaposed, often with major and minor triads
on the same pitch occurring in close proximity, indicating Gesualdo’s recognition of the
different quality of these triads.34 Many of these passages are also the obvious result of
the use of the chromatic motive.
In the Sacrae ccmtiones the most extreme examples of chromaticism are the
homophonic passages setting emotionally charged words. One of the most striking
illustrations of this technique occurs in the passionate setting of the pleading text of the
Marian motet Ave, dulcissima Maria (VHI:3). The opening of this motet, already
discussed, is set in the traditional counterpoint of the Renaissance (Fig. 2). After the
words of praise to Mary, Gesualdo’s motet dissolves into a pathetic cry with the word 0
set homophonically forming a triad on C. A rest indicates the silent breath that follows
this outcry, after which enters the text 0 Maria on a G-sharp diminished triad. Harsh to
the ear, this entrance corresponds to the mood of the text. Chromaticism is created by the
chromatic motive and the neighbor inflection (Fig. 36). After the repetition of this gesture
a fourth higher, the polyphony resumes, only to be interrupted by a homophonic setting
of the words pro nobis.
34Daniel B. Rowland, Mannerism—Style and Mood: An Anatomy o f Four Works in

Three Art Forms (New Haven, CT: Yale Universtiy Press, 1964), 37.
132
Harmonically, the first statement of the text O, 0 Maria departs from the stable
modal foundation of the preceding phrase that ends on a D. The new phrase begins
abruptly on C, a bass movement of a second, which is common in Gesualdo’s writing.
While the top voice ascends chromatically, a succession of chords emphasizes the third
relationship by moving from C to A, followed by a second succession from F to D on the
repetition of the cry (Fig. 36).
C
M a .n
3 n - am! M a- n
T
Ma - n EIos
Ma
Figure 36. Ave, dulcissima Maria, mm. 27-33.
0 vos omnes from the service for Holy Saturday was set three times by Gesualdo.
Two of the settings appear in their expected places in the responses. A third occurs in the
Sacrae cantiones (VIII: 11). Nowhere in Gesualdo’s sacred oeuvre is there a text that is
more heart-rending or one that is set with such musical intensity, fully conveying the
mood of the text Once more, root movement by thirds in a predominantly homophonic
texture heightens the feeling of anguish in the mournful lament The first six measures
consist only of major triads (Fig. 37).
133
<L
per vi
h
^ u i tra m - t - t u per
< p » itra c e * i - tu ,
-r
tran s - i - tis
3
q i a t r a m - i . rxs
A
J v. J
Figure 37. O vos omnes, mm. 1-8.
Even in these daring homophonic sections Gesualdo remained faithful to the voice-
leading rules of Renaissance counterpoint with limited ranges and diatonic leaps. The
lines, while perhaps chromatic in nature, are singable and lyrical.Syllable stresses are
consistently observed so that conflicts between the flow of the melody and text do not
occur.
Magnifying the effect of the radical chromaticism in these works is Gesualdo’s use
of dissonance. Surprisingly, the dissonances, mostly found in the form of passing tones
and suspensions, are carefully treated according to the rules of counterpoint A startling
effect however, is created by Gesualdo’s use of suspension in Peccamem me quotidie
(VII: 10) (Fig. 38). The E in the cantus is presented as a suspension over the altvs entrance
on F, made more striking by the fact that it is the first note in the altus; the motive is
immediately repeated in the tenor and bassns.
35Kenneth Fulton, “Gesualdo—A Consideration of His Sacred Choral Repertory,”

Choral Journal 28, no. 7 (February 1988): 11.
134
Figure 38. Suspension in Peccantem me quotidie, mm. 1-3.
Gesualdo’s use of diminished and augmented triads is not unusual in this period.
In Ave, dulcissima Maria, diminished triads are created by the chromatic inflection of G
and C (Fig. 39).
Ma - n - a.
Figure 39. Diminished triads in^ve, dulcissima Maria, mm. 51-56.
In O Crux benedicta (VIII: 14), the moving figures in the altus and tenor create an
augmented triad. The entire cadence is preceded by a suspension (Fig. 40).
135
O- m u ma
Figure 40. Augmented triad in O Crux benedicta, mm. 54-56.
This entire complex of melodic and harmonic material is structured by typical
Renaissance cadences that support the modal center of the piece. Certain cadential
techniques used by Gesualdo deserve mention. Following the style of Luzzaschi,
Gesualdo often set extended sections devoid of a clear-cut cadence. The effect of extreme
pathos may be heightened by the tension of these prolonged sections as in the setting of
the miserere text in Peccantem me quotidie (VELX). The setting of the text quia in
inferno nulla est redemptio (for in hell there is no redemption) ends with a clear cadence
on G. After a pause, or a breath, the miserere text begins. Gesualdo set the words
Miserere mei, Dens, et salva me (Have mercy on me, God, and save me) in an extended
passage without strong cadences that Watkins described as “a chromatic continuum
conducive to a state of vertigo”36 (Fig. 41).
136
I — -
d 1
* 0.
A V
0. Mi - I
Cl ^
0.
< r>4-» --------* -4 * ----
i 1
4 ' 0. Mi -
b ' - |
a u * i« • r e - re ae
tel ▼e m e ,.
te l me.
te l
ct
tel m e, e t tel
et
Figure 41. Extended passage in Peccantem me quotidie, mm. 55-75.
137
Gesualdo’s internal cadences include those expected in polyphonic music of the
era. Final cadences are either plagal or authentic, and the pedal tone is a characteristic
technique. The final cadence of Laboravi in gemitu meo (VIII:9) is a typical example of
Gesualdo’s use of the pedal device used to create the plagal cadence. A cross relation
occurs between the cantus and the altus in the antepenultimate measure (Fig. 42).
bo..
Figure 42. Pedal technique in cadence

in Laboravi in gemitu meo, mm. 58-60.
This device is rarer in the extant voices of volume IX because the bassus, the voice
used most often for the pedal technique, is missing. An exception is 0 Oriens, splendor
(IX:5), where the pedal appears in the altus and quintus voices (Fig. 43).
138
Figure 43. Pedal technique in final cadence in 0 Oriens, splendor, mm. 58-63.
The texts Gesualdo chose for his Sacrae cantiones, composed during or following
his sojourn in Ferrara, are related to the events of his life and are reflected in the painting
in the chapel of S. Maria delle Grazie. If Piccardi’s conclusion regarding the later date of
this painting is correct, these two portrayals of the composer were made at about the
same time. In setting these texts replete with images of death, sorrow, and a search for
mercy, Gesualdo drew from the style of his madrigals. Fragmented texts, occasionally set
in a homophonic texture, are punctuated with daring chromaticism. Unlike the madrigals,
the settings of these highly charged texts are primarily polyphonic and rooted in the rules
of sixteenth-century counterpoint
CHAPTER 5
RESP0NS0R1A FOR HOLY WEEK
The Responsoria of Carlo Gesualdo were published in 1611 by Giovanni Jacomo
Carlino, in the same year and under the same auspices as the first printing of the fifth and
sixth books of madrigals.1 Like the Sacre cantiones, Gesualdo’s Responsoria appeared in
print only once.2 The work provides a polyphonic setting for all twenty-seven Tenebrae
responses and the Benedictus and Miserere. It was published in part-books for cantus,
sextits, altus, quintus, tenor, and bassus, and is the only six-voice polyphony by
Gesualdo that has survived intact.3
Responses form a category of Western chant that serves as musical postludes to
the reading of lessons in the Offices.4 Originating in Jewish practice, early responsorial
1Glenn Watkins, “Introduction,” Gesualdo di Venosa: Sdmtliche Werke, 10 vols.

2Ibid.
3Ibid.
4Paul Frederick Cutter and Davitt Moroney, “Responsory,” The New Grove
Dictionary o f Music and Musicians, ed. Stanley Sadie, 20 vols. (London: Macmillan,
1980), 15:759.
139
140
psalmody involved solo performance of the Psalm text with a congregational or choral
response after each verse.5 Responsibility for performance of the responses passed from
the congregation to the choir, and as choirs became more skilled, responses became more
elaborate. The verses, originally sung to responsorial tones, became so ornate that only
the longest verses made any extended use of reciting notes and eventually were written as
freely composed melodies.6
During the Middle Ages, the response existed in two forms, one with a respond
and verse, and one in which the respond and verse were followed by half of the Lesser
Doxology. The response itself was usually divided into three sections, and a performance
of a response with one verse and without a doxology might be Rabc V Rc, indicating that
only the last section of the response is repeated.7
Polyphonic settings of responsories survive from the earliest period of
polyphony, appearing in both the Winchester Troper and the Magnus liber organi,8 In
the late fifteenth century, a distinct place for the response developed in the Sarum Office
in England, and these responses became a major genre of English music in the first half of
the sixteenth century. One of the earliest such settings on the continent was by the
5Richard Hoppin, Medieval Music (New York: Norton, 1978), 81.
sibid., 105.
TIbid., 105-6.
^Cutter and Moroney, “Responsory,” The New Grove, 15:765.
141
Englishman Walter Frye. In his adaptation of the responsory for Compline (from
Candlemas to Maundy Thursday), Ave Regina, Frye followed the setting of the response
with a repetition of lines three and four at the end.9 The form of this setting (intonation,
respond, verse, and repetition), based on the traditional performance of the plainchant,
became standard on the continent The resulting aBcB motet form also became a
prototype for responsories and longer motets unrelated to the responsory, especially in
the later sixteenth century.10
Gesualdo’s Responsoria were written for use in the liturgy in the combined
Offices of Matins and Lauds on the Thursday, Friday, and Saturday of Holy Week (in
Latin, Feria Quinta, Feria Sexta, and Sabbato Sancto, the triduum sanctum), also known
as the Tenebrae service. This service, which first appeared in the twelfth century, takes
its name from the fifth response for Good Friday, Tenebrae factae sunt dum crucifixissent
Jesum (Darkness covered the earth while the Jews crucified Jesus). On Thursday of the
three-day observance the betrayal of Christ is emphasized. Friday focuses upon the
judgment, crucifixion, and death of Christ On Saturday the service centers on the burial
and expected resurrection.11
9Ibid. Gustave Reese discussed Frye’s setting o f Ave Regina in Music in the
Renaissance (New York: Norton, 1954), 93-95.
loibid.
11Robert Webber, ed., The Services o f the Christian Year, The Complete Library o f
Christian Worship, 7 vols. (Nashville: StarSong, 1994), 5:349.
The Tenebrae service is one of intense emotional drama. The rubrics in the Liber
usualis give the following instructions for the service. Each day, a triangular candlestand is
placed in front of the altar on the Epistle side. In the candlestand are fifteen candles,
which are extinguished successively after each Psalm during Matins and Lauds. During the
canticle, Benedictus, the single remaining candle from the candlestand is placed behind the
altar and the candles on the altar are extinguished one by one from each side alternately.
The Pater noster, the Miserere, and a prayer are said in a subdued voice.12 The other
lights and lamps in the church are also extinguished. During the repetition of the antiphon
Traditor, the lighted candle is placed on the altar for a moment representing Calvary, then
hidden behind the altar. At the end of the canticle, the last candle is extinguished, and
what follows is said or sung in tenebris, that is, in darkness. The prayer Respice,
quaesumus Domine follows. The silence is interrupted by a noise, such as light clapping
or knocking on choir stall walls, to symbolize the association of nature with the period of
mourning: “the earth trembled, rocks were rent, tombs opened.” 13 The candle reappears
and all rise and leave the service.
The musically significant parts of the Tenebrae service are the first three of the
nine lessons of Matins, taken from the Lamentations o f Jeremiah, and the responses that
follow each lesson, known as the Tenebrae responses. The Lamentations o f Jeremiah
12-Liber usualis (Toumai, 1950; English Version, New York: Desclee, 1963), 653.
13Jovian P. Lang, Dictionary o f the Liturgy (New York: Catholic Book Publishing
Company, 1989), s.v. ‘Tenebrae.”
143
were set in the sixteenth century by composers such as Jacques Arcadelt, Pierre de la
Rue, Heinrich Isaac, Claudin de Sermisy, Cristobal Morales, Orlande de Lassus, and
Palestrina.14 The earliest set of Tenebrae responsories is that of Paolo Animuccia (ca.
1555). The three most famous sets are Gesualdo’s, a set by Marc’Antonio Ingegneri
(1588), and one by Tomas Luis de Victoria (1585), who set only eighteen of the twenty-
seven responsories.15 The texts of the twenty-seven responsories of the triduum
sanctum, taken from the Gospels, are both dramatic and reflective, and trace the narrative
of the Passion of Christ.16 Two additional texts set by many composers are included in
Gesualdo’s collection: the Benedictus, which closes Lauds, and Psalm 50, Miserere mei
Deus, which begins the service on each of the three days.
While Gesualdo’s setting of the Responsoria may have been originally intended
for performance at the chapel at S. Maria delle Grazie, the fact that these responses were
published indicates that they were available for more widespread performance.
Concerning their suitability for the Church according to the guidelines of the Council of
Trent, Lorenzo Bianconi remarked that the Responsoria are “treated in disturbing
contravention of all rules of the post-Tridentine liturgical practice in a free style enriched
14GuntherMassenkeil, “Lamentations,” The New Grove, 10:410.
15Cutter andMoroney, “Responsory,” The New Grove, 15:765.
16Murray C. Bradshaw, “The Aristocratic Responsories of Cavalieri and

Gesualdo, and the ‘New Music,”’ in Music in Performance and Society: Essays in Honor
o f Roland Jackson, ed. Malcolm Cole and John Koegel (Warren, MI: Harmonie Park
Press, 1999), 134.
144
with molles Jlexiones of the madrigals.”17 The directness, clarity, and lack of complication
preferred by the Council was in direct opposition to the embellishment and contrivance
preferred by the mannerists.18 Watkins observed, however, that “the chromatic manner
by its very nature tends toward the homophonic, at most lightly polyphonic style, and
the introduction of chromaticism would in no way. . . stand in the way of a careful
declamation of the text, the principle at the heart of the Tridentine reform.”19 Gesualdo’s
frequent use of homophony and declamatory style in the Responsoria, making the texts
easily intelligible, are in compliance with the mandates of the Council.
Gesualdo’s Salmi delle compiete (Psalms of Compline) is written in a style similar
to that of his setting of the Benedictus and Miserere, and will, therefore, be discussed in
this chapter. The Salmi delle compiete, a setting of Psalm 30:1-2,5, appeared in a
collection of Psalms by various Neapolitan composers published by Ottavio Beltrano
under the title Salmi delle compiete de diversi musici Neapolitani (1620). The Salmi delle
compiete is the only one of Gesualdo’s extant works that has a basso continuo, though it
is no more than a basso seguente. Watkins considered it likely to be an editorial
addition.20
iTLorenzo Bianconi, “Gesualdo, Carlo,” The New Grove, 7:318.
l8Watkins, Gesualdo: The Man and His Music, 2d ed. (Oxford: Clarendon, 1991),
109.
isibid., 264-65.
20Ibid., 286.
145
Musical Setting
The music of the Responsoria exemplifies Gesualdo’s mature style. While the
techniques used in the Sacrae camiones occur in the responses as well, the dramatic
response texts inspired a setting that is more closely related to that of the composer’s late
madrigals in both the fragmentation of the text and the use of intense chromaticism.
The foundation for the musical style in this collection is the structure of the responses.
True to the form handed down by Frye and inherent in the liturgy, Gesualdo’s responses
consist of an opening respond divided into two parts (aB) followed by a verse (c), then a
repetition of the last half of the opening (B). Occasionally additional repetitions are
required, resulting in a form of aBcBaB.
The sectional aspect of the responses is ideally suited to the fragmented and
contrasting compositional style Gesualdo used for his madrigals. Changes in rhythmic
activity and texture further heighten the effect of the strong contrasts between
homophonic and polyphonic sections. Whereas rhythmic contrast in the Sacrae cantiones
was most often used in painting a particular text or in the juxtaposition of slow
homophonic settings with faster polyphonic ones, Gesualdo used rhythmic contrast in
the Responsoria to delineate clearly the sections of the text To emphasize further the
sectional aspect of the responses, Gesualdo varied the number of voices, rarely using all
six parts for an entire response.21
146
Texture
Polyphonic
Much of Gesualdo’s music for the Responsoria is in the style of Renaissance
polyphony. This passage in Aestimatvs, the eighth response for Holy Saturday, which
paints the word liber (free) is consonant, using diatonic pitches in the Aeolian mode (Fig.
44).
Figure 44. Sixteenth-century counterpoint in Aestimatvs, mm. 23-29.
147
These polyphonic sections in the Responsoria tend to be relatively short and frequently
interrupted with chordal passages, often in declamatory style. The contrasting sections
serve as a point of departure for further rhythmic and textural juxtaposition of
homophonic, polyphonic, and declamatory styles within sections.
Like the Sacrae cantiones, the Responsoria are all written alia breve. The only
exception occurs in Animam meam dilectam, the sixth response for Good Friday. The
composer sets the text Congregamini (Gather ye together) in long note values in
proportio tripla. Following the homophonic statement and repetition of this text, alia
breve returns for imitative entries of the polyphony that follows (Fig. 45).
07461468
Csa ■ (T« - f » - m l. s i , aoa * g n - - m i ■ ol,
Figure 45. Contrasting sections in Animam meam dilectam, mm. 26-30.
Homophonic
Gesualdo frequently used homophonic settings with long note values to begin
responses or sections within the responses. In the second response for Holy Saturday,
Jerusalem surge, the word Jerusalem is stated twice in a sustained homophonic texture.
148
The texture begins to dissipate on the word surge (arise) before the imitative entries
present the following text, et exue te vestibusjucunditatis (and put off your garments of
joy) (Fig. 46).

Resp. II
c
S
A
r
3
i
i ft tx • a • t«
1r t ‘T V
* m - b a t.
f- tt «x a .« u sti • bat
p. «t «x - a *• u r t . *tl * bat Ja * can *41 * t* tit: in
Figure 46. Changes of texture in Jerusalem, surge, mm. 1-11.
For the verse of Eram quasi agnus innocens, the seventh response for Maundy
Thursday, Gesualdo combined textures in setting the text Omnes inimici mei adversum
me (all my enemies contrived mischief against me). Omnes (all) is set in triads. To set the
149
text inimici mei (my enemies), Gesualdo used a declamatory homophonic style, with the
tenor entrance delayed to add musical interest and depict the duplicity of Christ’s
enemies. The setting that follows never erupts into full imitative polyphony, but is no
longer homophonic (Fig. 47).
J A V erm s
C it V.O « m a n i • a i - mi - ei me. 1 ad •
5 «t
i • oi • mi • ei
------------------------L i ------- , -M . 0L - m -------a ---- -----
P fii ■ -------- 1— 1 i J ■■ ■ | -■ ■ ,I • i i i l l . . . ,*
f* V.O - macs I - a i - mi • ei me I ad . ver ta a me.
<R V.O - m a n i • a i • mi • el me I ad - r t r -
>■ b
T y V.O • m a n i • a i . mi . ei me * • i
6
V.O - m a n 1 - a t • nti • ei me i
dzi
j
a r t r * sum eo
it ta bant. eo • gi « ta b a a t am - la
ad - w . sum me co *
ad - n r . torn ma - eo f i » t a - * * * baat
u
1 CO
f ad - f i r - tto a m« e o - g l- t a • b a a t,_ eo - ji . ta
s
•* -— ______ - r j - - - i 1 4 j i ,r " 1 t ■—■ — K i " ---------
ad a tr nun me eo g i - ta * baat
Figure 47. Change of texture in Eram quasi agnus iimocens, mm. 62-71.
The texture used most frequently in these responses is a homophonic texture with
slight rhythmic deviation. The beginning of Amicus meus osculi, the fourth response for
Maundy Thursday, exemplifies this style (Fig. 48).
11488462 11082465
gno:
Figure 48. Homophonic texture with rhythmic deviation in Amicus meus osculi, mm. 1-6.
The music that begins the eighth response for Good Friday, Jesum tradidit impius,
employs this same texture. The strictly homophonic setting of summis principibus
sacerdotum (to the chief priests) is syllabic and declamatory. In the passage that follows,
et senioribus populi (and the elders of the people), imitative polyphony with two themes
passes back and forth between the voices (Fig. 49).
151
C stuiM&is p n n - el-pi*bui
5
sum. l a • pi os ■bos **-e*r*do •
Pi 08462468
T J% . sum 11 % dl • dit rouumit prtn * d*pi*bu es-eer-4o *
6 is prta « ci-pi-bos
B,flt m - ai . o - ri-ba* po - - pa . U, po ♦ - * pa - U*
Of •! ♦ ai - o - rt-bus po • * • pa>U, po>pa*
«t »• • a i - o • rt • baa, t s - a i * o . rt-b u s.
i i 1 11 1
ta n . •t m ai • o • ri * bos
Figure 49. Change of texture in Jesum tradidit impins, mm. 1-11.
There is only slight deviation from pure homophony in the first seventeen measures of
Vinea mea electa, the third response for Good Friday (Fig. 50).
152
c 111*-.,.
^
1. a .
j v i t !* i* i t
i
r it
V t
r r
7 1 . a t* * a t * * t - I t- a t * , t - go
=
tt plan -
. ; i— H —
t* - r i, t t __pUa-t* -
£ ? 4. *' * I r IT r t- r 1 ,}r l ii -j 1 1
7 1 . a t* * a t* * t • It - at*, t . go tt p l* n * t* * v l, tt plan*
4 = - .— ■ K_ l i a , 0 .a. . . ,|...... - ,
A 7• ------------------
7 1 . a t . *^ ---------------
a t.* t U .e t* , t * go t t pl*a-t* . rl, t t pUa * t* * ?l, ta pi*a.
V T ‘ ^ ‘ 1 11~*r 1 - — *■ r 11 1° r r— *
£ Y1 . a t* * a t * * t • I t-a t* , « . go
mLm
tt_ p l* n * t* rl. tt plAB ‘
rt:
t* * Ttj do too • r«r quo * mo*do con • r t r -
Quo*mo * do ton * r t r
quo • mo -do eoa * r t r
r tr con . r t r
t* - rt:
* * at* •
Figure 50. Homophonic setting in Vinea mea electa, mm. 1-17.
153
Imitation
Imitation in the Responsoria deviates somewhat from the expected points of
imitation of sixteenth-century counterpoint. In the first response for Maundy Thursday,
In Monte Oliveti, the verse begins imitatively in the sextus and altus voices. Slight
rhythmic differences characterize the delayed tenor entrance. The other voices do not
participate in this imitation, but instead present their own three-note motive, ascending in
the cantus and quintus and descending in the sextus and bassus. The chromatic inflection
in the cantus creates the chromatic motive (Fig. 51).
Versus
t«. ut
* r*m
fUU te.
ft
u , «t
T
b
Figure 51. Imitation in In Monte Oliveti, mm. 54-58.
Another example of a motive used in its ascending and descending form, a
technique used frequently by Gesualdo, occurs in Ecce vidimus eum, the third response
for Maundy Thursday, to set the text Cujus livore sanati sumus (with his stripes we are
healed). The phrase begins with imitation, which dissolves into the recurring stepwise
motive on the text sanati sumus (Fig. 52).
154
G Co - Jua U -
5
fl
m-mBSfta. a* *
Q
Ca jta U -
m u.
Figure 52. Imitation in Ecce vidimus eum, mm. 43-53.
For the Responsoria, Gesualdo borrowed little from the original plainchant W hile
occasional references to incipits are evident, Gesualdo apparently attempted to use a
setting opposite to that provided by the original chant in several instances. For the second
155
response for Maundy Thursday, Tristis est anima mea, the ascending melodic line of the
chant (Fig. 53) is replaced with a descending pattern (Fig. 54).
Hesp.2 J- %*
8 ~ *
T Ristis est * a-nima me- a
Figure 53. Plainchant Tristis est anima mea (LU 635).
CL
Tli •
5
Trl - • n il tit «
Trl stls tit.
6
T il -
r Trl ftta trl • • ftU ai*i
trt *
Figure 54. Lack of influence of plainchant in Tristis est anima mea, mm. 1-6.
Only one example of cantus firmus technique occurs in the Responsoria, in the
seventh response for Holy Saturday, Astiterunt reges. The chant melody (Fig. 55)
appears in long notes in the quintus of the response (Fig. 56).
156
t— ■
Is ■ ■ 1— F
V
? T ----- r :
iSi i ; it 1
■ • * •
-sti-te-runt * reges terrae, et prin-cipes
y,a . V?1?3'* v |
conve-n«i- runt in u- nura,*
Figure 55. Plainchant, Astiterunt reges (LU 771).

Resp. VII
[Tenortacet]
A • sti . ta - ro o t r t - g t i
rci . ta m at
ni
8
«ti ta r •
p r in - d - p a s , at p ria * cl - pea, at prm • a - p a s
at pria • ct ♦ pas, at p ria-ci - pas eoa
at p rta • d -p a a , ct p rto > a* p « s eo a-aa * a t - re n t m
pria paa
' rea, ct pria * d * pas, ct p ria . ct . paa eoa-
• n u it to u >000,18 a r u n t in
to a at p n n -c i - paa c o n -a t-a a -ro n t
a t pna*et*pcseon>W 4ia
n - ru n t
- ru n t t o o - a tun.
Figure 56. Plainchant cantus firmus in Astiterunt reges, mm. 1-20.
157
Modality
In a gesture that presages the music of the late nineteenth and early twentieth
centuries by almost three hundred years, Gesualdo’s Responsoria indicate no compulsion
on the part of the composer to begin and end on the same pitch center. Rather, Gesualdo
wrote in a style that moved freely from one pitch center to another, intensifying the effect
of the fragmentation (Tables 4-6).22
158
Response a B c B a B
l.In d-D d-D d-F d-D
monte CSAQTB CSAQTB CSATB CSAQTB
Oliveti
2. Tristis d-D D-A F-E D-A
est anima CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAB CSAQTB
mea
3. Ecce G-G d-F A-D d-F G-G d-F
vidimus CSAQTB CSAQTB AQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB
eum
4. Amicus C-A D-D C-F D-D
meus CSAQTB CSAQTB CAQB CSAQTB
osculi
5. Judas d-A d-C D-G d-C d-A d-C
mercator CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB
6. Unus ex d-C F-D d-G F-D d-C F-D
disciptdis CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB
meis
7. Eram C-A d-D D-C d-D
quasi CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB/
agnus G-D
innocens SATB
8. Una d-A G-D F-A G-D
hora non CAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB
potuistis
9. d-D C-D D-C C-D d-D C-D
Seniores CSAQ CSAQTB AT CSAQTB CSAQ CSAQTB
populi
consilium
Table 4. Pitch centers and vocal requirements for the Responsoria for
Maundy Thursday.
159
Response a j B | c B a B
I. Omnes B-flat - g-D g-G g-D
amici mei B-flat CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB
CSAQTB
2. Velum g-D F-D A-A F-D
templi CSQ CSAQTB SAQTB CSAQTB
3. Vinea F-F D-G g-D D-G F-F D-G
mea electa CSAB CSAQTB CSAT CSAQTB CSAB CSAQTB
4. g-A g-D g-F g-D
Tamquam SAQB CSAQTB CATB CSAQTB
ad
latronem
5. A-G g-g-D A-B-flat g-g-D
Tenebrae CSAQTB | CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB
factae sunt 1
6. F-C E-flat-F-D g-c E-flat-F-D F-C E-flat-F-D
Animam SATB CS CATB CS SATB CS
meam /CSAQTB /CSAQTB /CSAQTB
dilectam
■ 1
7. Tradi- g-A d-D g-F d-D
derunt me CSAQ CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB
8. Jesum D-G g-A g-B-flat g-A
tradidit CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQ CSAQTB
impius
9. Caliga- g-G B-flat-G
verunt CSAQTB CSAQTB
Table 5. Pitch centers and vocal requirements for the Responsoria for Good Friday.
160
Response a B c B a B
1. Sicui e-E e-E D-B e-E |
ovis CSAQTB CSAQTB CATB CSAQTB I
!
2. G-A e-E e-C e-E !
Jerusa CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB
lem, surge
3. Plange B-B b-E e-B b-E B-B b-E
quasi CSAQTB CSAQTB CAQB CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB
virgo
4. Recessit E-E e-G A- e-G
pastor CSAQTB CAQTB C-sharp CAQTB
noster AQTB
5. 0 vos b-C a-A j F-B a-A
omnes CSAQTB CSAQTB I CSAQTB CSAQTB
6. Ecce C-G E-E E-D E-E C-G E-E
quomodo CSAQTB CSAQTB CATB CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB
7. e-E e-C C-G e-C
Astiterunt CSAQB CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB
reges
8. e-E C-A E-B C-A
Aestima- CSAQB CSAQTB AQTB CSAQTB
tus
9. Sepulto E-E e-E C-C e-E E-E e-E
Domino CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB CSAQTB
Table 6. Pitch centers and vocal requirements for the Responsoria for Holy Saturday.
161
In the responses for Maundy Thursday, only four begin and end on the same
pitch center. Two responses each for Good Friday and Holy Saturday begin and end on
the same pitch. Even in these Gesualdo did not maintain modal unity throughout.
Although the use of D as a pitch center occurs in each movement of Seniores populi
consilium, the ninth response for Maundy Thursday, the composer also emphasizes the
pitch centers F and C. Gesualdo used contrasting tonal regions in Animam meam
dilectam, the sixth response for Good Friday, to set the mournful text that begins “I
delivered the soul I loved into the hands of the wicked.” The response begins on F and
ends a third lower on D. While both F and C are prominent, the new center of D is
announced only once before the end. The B section begins on the unexpected pitch E-flat,
then moves successively to pitch centers of F and D (Table 5).
Not surprisingly, third relationships play an important role in Gesualdo’s choice
of beginning and ending pitches. In the ninth response for Holy Saturday, Sepidto
Domino, the only movement away from the E center is by the third relationship to C
(Table 6). In the first response for Good Friday, Omnes am id mei, and Tradiderunt me,
the seventh response for Good Friday, third relationships are evident in the beginning and
ending pitches (Table 5).
Terminology that adequately describes Gesualdo’s lack of modal unity has not
entered common usage. In his discussion of Orlande de Lassus’s chromatic Prophetiae
sibyllarum, Edward Lowinsky referred to “triadic atonaiity,” stating, “Here is a music in
which extreme chromaticism and constant modulation within a triadic texture erode any
162
sense of a stable tonal center.”23 Certainly Gesualdo’s musical style erodes any sense of
stable pitch center. His harmonic successions are not goal oriented in themselves, often
having the opposite effect, blurring any sense of direction whatsoever. However,
Gesualdo’s music is not atonal in a twentieth-century sense; local events (e.g., leading
tones, melodic lines, pitch repetition) tend to emphasize specific tones even when their
importance is only fleeting. Modulation, too, is a problematic term in this context,
because it is usually associated with tonal analysis and assumes a hierarchy not
established by Gesualdo in the responses. Perhaps a better term to describe this free
movement between modes in Gesualdo’s Responsoria is “transient modality.” Much of
Gesualdo’s transient modality is accomplished by bass movement in thirds combined
with the frequent employment of chromatic inflection. A chain of bass movement in
thirds and fifths is used in the first section of O vos omnes, the fifth response for Holy
Saturday, to migrate from the response’s beginning on the pitch center of B to its
culmination on C (Fig. 57).
23Edward Lowinsky, Tonality and Atonaiity in Sixteenth-Century Music (Berkeley:

University of California Press, 1961), 39.
163
..R e a p . V
C i t m o • BBMt qmi trmas - i - Us per vl - u i t st *
5
ros o • an**, qsu trmas - i
A
0 vos, o - ros o - mass, qui trmas * I Us p«r vl . sm, st *
£ i voa o * mass, qoi trmas * I • • Us p s r v t • s a , «•
r 99 U ‘' l
" to* o * n a ts , qoi trmas • l -
' Us psr vi - s b , it -
0 - qui trmas-i - Us psr vl - sb , st*
6 £ a A F
" Mn • 41 • «•. « ____ Ti . d« • t«, «t Ti - d« U:
“ ttn - dl - U , «, Tl - d» - t«, < t. n • d* Mr
y U g ■ 11 - U , «t Tl . d» - U. ■( - « — Tl - dd t«:
1 Mn - dl - u , ««------ r t - d« - »f, « ------ « - <*•
f fi • dl . ts, st vi-4s - ts.
Figure 57. Modal migration in O vos omnes, mm. 1-14.
In the verse of Sicut ovis, the first response for Holy Saturday, Gesualdo moves
from the D major triad of the beginning to his final destination of B major through a series
of twists and turns created, once again, by thirds and chromatic inflections (Fig. 58).
164
The text Tradidit in mortem animam suam (He delivered his soul up to death) moves
from the modal center of D through b and A, before reaching F-sharp. Gesualdo clears the
air with a rest before continuing with a migration from F-sharp to D that is repeated.
Movement in thirds and steps characterizes the succession that follows: from D to B-flat,
D, C, and then the final destination, B.
cm
j « V e r su s [S extu s e t Q u in tu s taeent]
— is K > —
G
" « T r » - <U - dit in mop - Um a awnam tu . am . a *
ir ft » ■
fl ra . i— r— -i
y x T r» - dl - d it la m ar * tom, la mar * tarn a nUnam t u • am. a •
r y x i r m ■ dl - dit tn mop . u rn a IQ am. a •
8 s __ __ '^y ■"
ttkmam « a ^ 4 o , at i n . tar in-1 - • quoa r*““T tm -ta" n s tm t.
ai-mam cu - am , at la -ta r La-1 * quo* n . - p u -ta -

Ut T trlf
ft D & b a. "gr
Figure 58. Modal migration in Sicut ovis, mm. 49-61.
Harmony
As in the motets, much of Gesualdo’s harmonic language in the Responsoria is
achieved linearly. Both the three- or four-note chromatic motive and the leading
165
tone/neighbor inflection are crucial to his style. The chromatic motive forms the basis for
the harmonic language in the verse of the third response for Maundy Thursday, Ecce
vidimus evm. In setting the text Vere languores nostros ipse tulit, et dolores nostros ipse
portavit (Truly he has bom our grief and carried our sorrows), the chromatic motive
appears not only in ascending and descending form, but also in a contorted and expanded
form (Fig. 59). The motive first occurs in the altus (upper voice), beginning in measure 54,
with the notes C-sha:p - C - D , and ends with the minor third of the chromatic genus.
After a rest, the motive begins again, this time on F-sharp, in a protracted version of the
motive that extends through measure 61, once again ending with a minor third. A similarly
contorted version appears in the quintus beginning on C in measure 57.
[MJ
Versus [Caxtus tl
A
Q
r
8
pM p a r
Figure 59. Use of the chromatic motive in Ecce vidimus eum, mm. 54-64.
166
In the second response for Good Friday, Velum templi, the chromatic motive sets
the text memento mei (remember me) (Fig. 60).
G
Me
5
Me • meo me . men
t\
to
Q
Do
T
B Me • men ml • no, —
Figure 60. Chromatic motive in Velum templi, mm. 24-28.
The chromatic motive in long note values in the altus sets the text et amara valde
(and exceedingly bitter) and provides the foundation for faster movement in the other
voices in Plange quasi virgo, the third response for Holy Saturday (Fig. 61).
C
5
de.
A
▼ml -
R ▼ml - de.-
r
£
de.
Figure 61. Chromatic motive in Plange quasi virgo, mm. 30-34.
167
Neighbor inflections appear in the verse of response eight for Maundy Thursday,
Una hora non potuistis, in a primarily diatonic passage that incorporates the leading tone
of G as a lower neighbor and B-flat as an upper neighbor (Fig. 62).
tn t i a - u
12467462
Figure 62. Neighbor inflections in Una hora non potuistis, mm. 43-45.
In the Responsoria, Gesualdo often expanded the leading tone inflection to include
the raised sixth and seventh degrees of the intended goal pitch, usually A. This technique
occurs in the altus in the following phrase of Una hora non potuistis (Fig. 63).
at in -
Figure 63. Expanded leading tone inflection in Una hora non potuistis, mm. 47-49.
168
In Eram quasi agnus innocens, response seven for Maundy Thursday, Gesualdo
used the chromatic motive (in the sextus and the quintus) and the neighbor inflection (in
the cantus, altos, and bassus) (Fig. 64).
Resp. vn
C
da-
S
A
11467482
r
E * hub qas - si a • gaas la bo • ecns, is ao * cans:__
e ta i sum sd 1st * bio • l*p d u n , >4 ba • b o - . dam,
d a - e ta s ram td im b o • Isa *
da * e ta s sum *4 an mo dun*
i*
* _ da • etas ssm sd ia *
da * etas sum *4 bo - Isa •
bsm , «t B t* sei* « b sm : eo a * «i * f«*e# - r o o t
i « t a«-«ci - « - b a o ,tt bmc ! - • - aasucos
dam . «t ao - i c i - s
Figure 64. Chromatic motive and neighbor inflections in Eram quasi agnus
innocens, mm. 1-18.
As in the Sacrae cantiones, most of the dissonances in the responses are the result
of suspensions and passing tones that follow the rules of Renaissance counterpoint. The
responses are more dissonant, however, and some of these dissonances do not follow
Renaissance practice. In Tenebrae factae simt, the fifth response for Good Friday, the
imitation of the motive creates dissonances with the other voices. A harmonic tritone
occurs between the sextus and altvs (m. 4) (Fig. 65).
S
dost oru * c l-Q -A a . ««at
A
dum
n u t.
r
3
an t.
Ju -d a * - I,
•«nt Ja.
Figure 65. Dissonance in Tenebraefactae sunt, mm. 3-10.
170
Even more daring than the harmonic tritone is the melodic tritone in Animam meam
dilectam (the soul I loved), the sixth response for Good Friday, which continues to
descend (Fig. 66).

Resp.VI [C aniuj t t Q u m iiu - la e tn t]
f g ... 1 V *I 1 • ■ = ?
«j «!■ ^ -ti—^
A • at-"*™ a t * e t a s t r a - dl •
1- f —
ft ¥ A - a ta a m n t • i n d l . l t . e ta a t r a - dl -
r # T i
»
W fl»
n i
■ M fJLL ■
^ ------ :— i -
A - ni-Bum m« • am dl - U
*
etam
m
tr a - dl •
3 ‘ A a r ! r ■ t \ ?
A . a la a m ta t - d l . It * « a m tr a - dl
Figure 66. Melodic tritone in Animam meam dilectam, mm. 1-4.
Vertical harmony plays an important role in the predominantly homophonic
responses. Major and minor triads were explained by Zarlino as a part of the modal
system, and Gesualdo’s use of these sonorities is an important characteristic of these
works.
In Una hora non potuistis, the eighth response for Maundy Thursday, the
juxtaposition of major and minor triads on the same pitch clouds the clarity implied in the
succession of triads. Change of chord quality is accomplished through the use of the
descending form of the chromatic motive, lending pathos to the text in tentationem (into
temptation) (Fig. 67).
171
la t«n - 1* - ti - .............................................a«a .
7 f l Su<Ua.
E e A (L A
Figure 67. Juxtaposition of major and minor triads in Una hora non potuistis, mm. 52-56.
The change from the major to the minor triad on the same pitch is even more
striking when it is effected by a cross relation. In the verse of the seventh response for
Maundy Thursday, Eram quasi agnus innocens, this contrast is coupled with another
element of Gesualdo’s style, the use of the diminished fourth between F-sharp and 13-
flat, which occurs in both melodic and harmonic forms (Fig. 68).
j * EH
12468462
fi
7
& I a«, il tt*» <U -
A a.
Figure 68. Major and minor triad with cross relation in
Eram quasi agnus innocens, mm. 82-86.
172
The burgeoning tonality of the seventeenth century is evident in these works as
well. The fourth modal degree became more prominent, and the fifth step was often
emphasized. Extended chordal passages were vertically conceived, and composers had
begun to consider chords in inversion as well as in root position.24 Nowhere in
Gesualdo’s sacred works is the influence of the developing tonal system more readily
seen than in his homophonic setting of the Salmi delle compiete, Benedictus, and Miserere.
In the Salmi delle compiete, Gesualdo’s modal leanings remain evident despite the
emphasis on A, D, and E. The first verse points strongly to its pitch center of A, with the
sonority on E prominent The first phrase moves from A to E in a progression that could
be labeled with the Roman numerals i-VI-iv-V. The following phrase begins on E and
wends its way to C through bass movement in steps and thirds, suggesting modality. The
third phrase foreshadows tonality by emphasizing fourths and fifths in the bass line as
the music returns to the pitch center of A (Fig. 69).
a-F-d-E
E - D - C - F-sharp - e - G - C
F - B flat - D - g - D - C - f-sharp dim. - g - a - E - A
24Joel Lester, Between Modes and Keys: German Theory, 1592-1802 (Stuyvesant,
NY: Pendragon, 1989), 31.
173
Canto
In te Do - - - mi - ne ipe - m - vi non coo - fnn-dxr in te •
Alto
In te Do-mi • ne spe-ra- . . . .v i non con - fan-dir in
Tenore
I
r In Us Do - mi-ne spe - r» -
—
- vi
r 1 I ! 11 1
non eon • fan-dir in u ■
1 ■ I
Basso
in te Do - - - mi . ne ipe-n - vi non eon - fan-dir in ne -
£ r - r - wlp a =: — 1 ^ ..... : 1 | - . . |
¥> -■ 4 r 7r uTi *
i
B.C.
CL
ter-
§
•amn in lu-stU U -* ta -* , U - - - b e -rc .
i v
ter - Ram in
‘ m—w. era ‘ 6i m *
iu-stl-ti-% tu - » 11- -be-ra me,!! - be-r»
J—
mcT
i '"JjZT J ^ I * * | 1 ^ i"! M "i *• k
e. c F B 1' b ^ 3 cl E A
Figure 69. Salmi delle compiete, mm. 1-12.
In the strophic setting of the Miserere, Psalm 50, the first musical phrase moves
from G to A, and the second phrase moves from D to E. The first phrase, though too
174
brief to imply fully either modality or tonality, is characterized by the third relationship
of G - E in the bassus (with the major sonority of the triad on E created by the chromatic
motive in the sextus) and an allusion to dominant-tonic relationship in the bass movement
from E to A. Tonality is again suggested in the second phrase by the use of fourth and
fifth relationships and the secondary leading tone. Also interesting are the fifth
relationships between the beginning and ending pitches of the two phrases (Fig. 70).
G-E-A
D - G - D - C - vii°/a - a - E
175
m - mi
D« mi
ml
mi
6
u - i, D t. u , . ran-4nn m» -fni ml
Q> £ A D & P £.
4m>
Figure 70. Miserere, mm. 1-10.
In the Benedictus, Luke 1:68-69, the tonality of F major is strongly implied and
the progressions could be described by Roman numeral analysis. The progression of the
first phrase is F - B-flat - vii° 6/C - C. Once again a rest clears the air before a similar
progression begins a third higher. Beginning with A to D, it moves, rather than to the
expected vii°/E, to Vfi/C - F - C - F (Fig. 71).
176
Benedictas
& li 8 t - a t - di-ctas D o -a i-a u s Dt • as Is - f t « ti,.
r y=gy
q o i.*
y
v t-il-tt-T it, r t ft - d t
s di-ctos Do-mi Dt • as It - r t - si, q u i- t r l- s i- tt .Tit, «t ft - d t
-r 3 t - a t • ai'Ctut Do-au - out Dt • a t is - r * • si, q a l-t T l-sl-tt-T it, t t ft . d t
& ------ m— a —~m—a —■» ■ “

Be - i« . di-«tua Do-ml • DOS Dt • as Is • f t - tit
u .
v ii y t d
0
JA
rt iliiu ptl-o - atm p it . Us sa • tt.
4t r»4cm«ptl-o - atm p it - bis sa • tt.
r*-das*ptl-o • atm pit-bit ni -

a , .
J1J ti
--------- y - r - 1
* rt-dcm-pti-o • atm pit • bis sa • tt.
---- y a “ 9 1 • ' '

» r*4cm-pti-o - atm p it . bis sa - tt.
■jfcfc-ltd d'a_ -? T T in , i ..4
rt-dsm-pti-o - asm pit-bit sa
■%£. t F C*
Figure 71. Benedicms, mm. l-l 1.
Word Painting
The colorful texts of the responses set the stage for some of Gesualdo’s most
splendid examples of word painting. To depict the text Omnes amici mei (all my friends)
in the/first response for Good Friday, Gesualdo set all six voices homophonically. For
the text dereliquenmt me (have forsaken me), the texture thins to two voices. Even those
two voices turn away from each other briefly as the altus enters in an inversion of the
melodic line presented by the sextus (Fig. 72).
11468462
Figure 72. Word painting in Omnes am id mei, nun. 1-5.
Similar treatment is used for the text that follows. When the entire group is
mentioned, et praevaluerunt (they prevailed), all voices state the text in a declamatory
homophonic style. But the music dissolves into polyphony in imitative entrances at
unpredictable intervals for insidiantes mihi (they laid ambush for me). The chromatic
motive lends further tension to the setting (Fig. 73).
178
e
«t pr««-v»- la - • . roAt
11462061
5
ft
8
r
«t • • . nut
B
t t pr****4u • • • n u t
la * ti • dl hi:
hi: tr*-4i»41t ait,
tn , bU
tts ad tr » * dl • dit B it ,
tn mi hi:
Figure 73. Word painting in Omnes am id mei, mm. 6-18.
In setting one of the most dramatic gospel passages, Gesualdo gave special
attention to the impact of the death of Christ on the earth. In Velum templi, the second
response for Good Friday, the rending of the veil of the temple from top to bottom is
depicted by a descending scalar melisma on the word sdssum (Fig. 74).
179
Resp. II iAUus, Tenoret Ban***tacmt]

a
sum if t, sets sum ta t, sets - sum ta t:
Figure 74. Word painting in Velum templi, mm 1-6.
For the text Et omnis terra tremuit (The whole earth trembled), the stability of the
whole earth is already shaken by the late entrance in the quintus. The earthquake is
depicted by a trembling melodic figure presented polyphonically. Again the voices enter
at uneven intervals (Fig. 75).
a
tp* mu . it: U - tro
trt tro dt
mat* t« r • r» mu * It:
fir*
r m at* U r* r*
3 trt i*it:
Figure 75. Word painting in Velum templi, mm. 7-13.
180
Similar to Gesualdo’s portrayal of the rending of the temple curtain is his setting
of the verse of the same response. In Gesualdo’s setting of the versus text Petrae scissae
sunt (the rocks were rent), the firm rocks are depicted homophonically. A descending
figure portrays their being broken apart (Fig. 76).
Versus [Ccntus tacei]

S’
A
H Pi • tr M .M ii . cost, tell m* sunt.
61
y .P f . tTM _ SCi^ • IM sunt,—. N U 'IM SUIlt,
r V .Pt- trST_ sets im sunt.
e
t.P i* tr M _ sols • u i n u t,.
Figure 76. Word painting in Velum templi, mm. 39-43.
The text at the beginning of the ninth response for Holy Saturday, Sepulto
Domino (when the Lord was buried), is depicted by descending octave leaps (Fig. 77).
/ a Reap, IX
O
12668482
s
A
$
■T U -gf
• S« . pul-to Do-mi-no.
&
S «.pal • to D o -ai-n o ,
Figure 77. Word painting in Sepulto Domino, mm. 1-5.
181
In Gesualdo’s poignant setting of the text Recessit pastor noster (Our Shepherd is
gone), the fourth response for Holy Saturday, the emptiness caused by the Savior’s
departure is emphasized by a rest in the cantus and bassus following the word Recessit (is
gone) (Fig. 78).
Reap. IV
, A [SextuM ta c tt]
p * 4 t o r bo
R i * c t* • tit p* • n o r— bo • * tt r .
Figure 78. Word painting in Recessit pastor noster, mm. 1-6.
Gesualdo and his contemporaries attempted to set not just individual words, but
the mood of the piece. The most dramatic text of the Responsoria, and the one from
which the name of the service is taken, is Tenebraefactae sunt, the fifth response for
Good Friday. Gesualdo indicates the darkness of the opening text by using the lower four
voices (Fig. 79).
182
Reap. V
CL
Ta ♦ aa*ferM f* • et*« coat.
Figure 79. Word painting in Tenebrae factae sunt, mm. 1-3.
The mood for the darkness of the Tenebrae response continues with dissonance and
chromaticism throughout The use of few clearcut cadences heightens the tension of the
text. A passage replete with chromaticism sets the text Deus metis, Dens mens, ut quid
me dereliquisti (My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?). Chromaticism is a
result of the composer’s desire to change the quality of the triads. The leading tone
inflection occurs in the cantus and the quintus with the neighbor inflection in the cantns
(Fig. 80).
I
183
a K t - r - y i '- frfJ
DA
1 fJ ,,J
g a t:
1 - 1
Dt— ^ u at
-1
- a t,
■■■ :
Dt -
1 1 *
at, D t^ ^ u i
- i!u
k !
= j
1 1
A ** mt • at*
5 yg
«*
• tt a a - tSX‘ Da • • as a t * at,
0 a _ e __ _ ------U . _ d * t -------- -------- - a m__ a . a
A i. M a* g at: Dt - - a t, Dt - a t, Dt - as m t . at.
9
a
•
a BU
ot CM: Dt - a* mt • at, Dt - a t, Dt ♦ at mt - at.
-r - h — i-
—
_ at
— ■ ,1
- t ” T h "j= r J i
4
08462468
at quid at d t- r t- U . qai * ■ti.
at craid U - qai - ctl.
Li-qai-tll U - qai « «»?
r t - U - qoi
at quid m t da - rt* li*qal* (ti?
* ---
ttL a t quid stv» at quid a t da - rt II - qai
at qald bi di * rt • U • qai * fti? .
Figure 80. Word painting in Tenebraefactae sunt, mm. 20-40.
184
Further examples of word painting enhance this dramatic text. A slow, descending
motive accompanies the text Et mclinato capite (and inclined his head) (Fig. 81).
11468462
Et la - all • p i - t*.
Figure 81. Word painting in Tenebraefactae sunt, mm. 41-47.
The text of the Tenebrae responses, one of the most dramatic and pathos-filled
ones of the Christian liturgy, inspired the most daring text settings in Gesualdo’s sacred
works. Gesualdo’s Responsoria are, like the motets, written in a style that finds its
origins in the counterpoint of the sixteenth century with evidence of the influence of the
incipient tonal system. The fragmented style and chromatic language of the Responsoria
are those of Gesualdo’s later madrigals, and the sectional aspect of the responses is
highlighted in Gesualdo’s settings by frequent use of homophonic passages.
The Benedictus and Miserere, as well as the Salmi delle compiete, are written in a
homophonic texture that foreshadows tonality.
CHAPTER 6
GESUALDO’S MUSICAL RHETORIC

AND THE THEMES OF SORROW AND DEATH
Although it is impossible to comprehend the music of the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries in the same way that it was understood by Gesualdo and his
contemporaries, a further examination of the various factors that contributed to
Gesualdo’s musical language proves enlightening. It is evident that Gesualdo’s unique
musical style was not created in a vacuum, but was influenced by the musical ideals and
compositions of his immediate predecessors and his contemporaries. Musical expression
of an emotional text became the goal of madrigal composers in the second half of the
sixteenth century, and the compositional techniques that resulted were often pressed into
use for sacred music as well. It is also likely that Gesualdo’s intensely emotional language
was influenced by his spiritual and emotional state. Biographical information depicts the
composer as a tormented man obsessed with both music and death. His sacred texts are
replete with images of sorrow and death that were singled out for special musical
treatment Through the understanding of music and emotion, symbolism, and musical
rhetoric, further insight into Gesualdo’s musical language can be gained.
185
186
Music and Emotion
With the advent of the Italian madrigal of the sixteenth century, musicians became
increasingly concerned with reflecting through their music the passions expressed in their
texts. Gesualdo adapted his sacred style from the Italian madrigal. He and other
composers o f his day intended their music to convey the pathos of the text, clearly
desiring an emotional response from the listener. In order to understand the relationship
between Gesualdo’s music and the emotions as expressed by the composer and
experienced by the listener, it is important to attempt to understand the way in which
music may express emotion.
The influence of music results from its ability to elicit a variety of responses from
its listeners. Although scholars have speculated for centuries, no one is certain of the
reason for music’s tremendous impact The attribution to music of specific powers over
human beings dates back as far as ancient Greece. Both Plato and Aristotle believed in the
moral and ethical benefits of music, maintaining that the modes had the power to alter the
moral character of individuals.
Their belief in the power of music was transmitted to Renaissance composers
primarily through the writings of Boethius. Intrigued by the notion of the doctrine of
ethos, these musicians sought to find the power ascribed to music by the ancient Greeks.
Composers began consciously composing in the church modes, but M e d to experience
the effects described by the ancients. Vicentino sought to rediscover the doctrine of ethos
through the addition of the chromatic and enharmonic genera to the diatonic genus. From
187
their first attempts to find appropriate settings for the poetry of Petrarch, humanist
musicians developed their belief that the power of music comes from the proper setting of
the text. The power they eventually sought in this art was not the unexplained magic of
the Greeks, but the persuasive powers of the orator, made manifest primarily in the
Italian madrigal. A brief look at the writings of Renaissance authors (discussed in Chapter
3) reveals their attempts to depict accurately and powerfully the emotion of the madrigal
texts through their music. During the late sixteenth century, mannerist composers
associated with Ferrara began selecting intensely emotional subject matter for their works,
using extremes of fragmentation, word painting, and chromaticism in setting the texts.
The difficulties encountered in any attempt to understand and explain emotional
responses to music are many. Leonard Meyer addressed this issue in Emotion and
Meaning in Music:
Any discussion of the emotional response to music is faced at the very

outset with the fact that very little is known about this response and its relation
to the stimulus. Evidence that it exists at all is based largely upon the
introspective reports of listeners and the testimony of composers, performers,
and critics. Other evidence of the existence of emotional responses to music is
based upon the behavior of performers and audiences and upon the physiological
changes that accompany musical perception. Although the volume and
intercultural character of this evidence compels us to believe that an emotional
response to music does take place, it tells us almost nothing about the nature of
the response or about the causal connection between the musical stimulus and the
affective response it evokes in listeners.!
^Leonard B. Meyer, Emotion and Meaning in Music (Chicago: University of

Chicago Press, 1956), 6.
188
While the cause of emotional responses to music remains unknown, the
accompanying physiological effects are less elusive. Music causes a condition of
heightened alertness or excitement that manifests itself in various physiological changes.
The pupils of the eyes dilate, the respiratory rate may become faster, slower, or irregular,
and blood pressure and heart rate tend to rise.2 Listening to pleasurable music causes
endorphins to be discharged in the brain and throughout the bloodstream, resulting in such
sensations as chills up and down the spine and a tingling sensation.3
In his Passions o f the Soul (1644-46), written just over thirty years after
Gesualdo’s death, the philosopher Rene Descartes (1596-1650) attempted to explain the
workings o f the passions in physiological terms:
Let us allow that the soul has its chief seat in a small gland which is in mid
brain and that from there it radiates through all the rest of the body owing to the
intervention of the animal spirits, the nerves, and even the blood, which,
participating in the impressions of the spirits, can carry them by way of the
arteries to all its members.4
According to Descartes, the soul reacts to an event, resulting in a physical response that
is accompanied by a contraction and enlargement of the orifices of the heart, causing the
soul to feel the pain chiefly in the heart Descartes listed six simple and primitive
2Anthony Storr, Music and the Mind (New York: The Free Press, 1992), 25.
3Kay Sherwood Roskam, Feeling the Sound (San Francisco: San Francisco Press,
1993), 5.
4Elizabeth S. Haldane and G. R. T. Ross, trans., The Philosophical Works o f

Descartes, I (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1911), quoted in Piero Weiss and
Richard Taruskin, Music in the Western World (New York: Schirmer Books, 1984), 213.
189
passions: wonder, love, hatred, desire, joy, and sadness, saying that the others are
composed of some of these six or are a species of them.5 Of love and hate, Descartes said:
Love is an emotion of the soul caused by the movement of the spirits which
incite it to join itself willingly to objects which appear to be agreeable. And hatred
is an emotion caused by the spirits which incite the soul to desire to be separated
from the objects which present themselves to it as hurtful.6
Many theories and arguments have been set forth in recent years regarding the
cause of emotional responses to music. Thomas Bever argued that it is the cognitive
activity of processing musical structure that evokes physiological activity. These
cognitively elicited activities, in turn, release inner emotions. Bever further stated that
because music does not tell one how to feel, local circumstances can determine one’s
emotional mood. According to Bever, the explicit emotion that is perceived is to a great
extent contributed by the listener.7 For Descartes, too, the musical work did not have a
unique expressive power, but rather affected individuals differently. According to
Descartes, “the same thing that makes some people want to dance, may make others want
to cry.”8
5Ibid.,214.
6Ibid„ 215.
7Thomas G. Bever, “A Cognitive Theory of Emotion and Aesthetics in Music,”

Psychomusicology 7, no. 2 (1988): 167-68.
8Rene Descartes, letter to Marin Mersenne o f March 1630, quoted in Jean-

Jacques Nattiez, Music and Discourse: Toward a Semiology o f Music, trans. Carolyn
Abbate (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1990), 108.
190
Derek Matravers stated that emotion differs from feelings in that emotions have a
cognitive aspect9 For Matravers, response is based upon a belief; therefore, if one
believes a particular piece of music to be sad, then the music is sad10 Gesualdo’s careful
association of music with words creates in the listener the belief that a particular emotion
should be experienced.
Some theories suggest that emotional response to music might be the result of
something in the music itself that arouses feelings or emotions in a listener. In this vein is
Matravers’s discussion of an arousal theory, which claims that expressive music arouses
the feelings o f a listener. In order to arouse these feelings, there must be something, such
as an expressive property, about the music that causes the reaction.11 According to Peter
K.ivy, a specific musical element expresses a feeling because it arouses that feeling in the
listener. The element may be heard as being expressive of a particular emotion because it
is appropriate to the expression of that emotion (for example, a sigh figure), or it is
expressive by virtue of some custom or convention.12
Leonard Meyer attributed musical expressiveness to the novelty of a particular
event. He stated that, “Affect or emotion-felt is aroused when an expectation—a tendency
9Derek Matravers, Art and Emotion (Oxford Clarendon Press, 1998), 20.
loibid., 149.
n ib id , 148-49.
i2Peter Kivy, The Corded Shell (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press,
1980), 83.
191
to respond—activated by the musical stimulus situation, is temporarily inhibited or
permanently blocked.”13 According to Meyer, a musical event has meaning because it
makes the listener expect another musical event The more predictable a note, however,
the lower the tension it adds to the musical line.14 Certainly much of the emotional
impact of Gesualdo’s music results from the tension created by his interference with the
musical expectations inherent in the modal system. Expectations are thwarted by the use
of chromaticism in primarily diatonic passages, long passages with elided or evaded
cadences, and transient modality or instability.
Meyer divided musical thinkers into two groups, the referentialists, those who
believe that musical meaning comes from reference to an extramusical universe, and the
absolutists, those who believe that musical meaning is based on the relationships between
the musical elements of the work.15 The humanists, of course, were referentialists,
associating music with poetry and attempting to depict musically, and thereby more fully
communicate, the meaning of their texts, not only their general mood, but also many
individual words. To the referentialists, musical meaning lies in the relationship between a
musical symbol or sign and the extramusical idea or object that it designates.16
13Meyer, Emotion and Meaning in Music, 31.
I41bid., 35-36.
isibid., 1.
ifilbid., 33.
192
Music and Symbolism
Two areas of inquiry that have entered the musicological arena in the past
century, hermeneutics and semiotics, attempt to discover this extramusical meaning.
Hermeneutics, a term used in the philology of classical languages, is the methodical study
of meaning and was introduced into musicology by Hermann Kretzschmar, who sought to
find the emotion inherent in music by drawing upon biographical and general historical
I7
data. The purpose of musical hermeneutics is to reconstruct as accurately as possible
the symbolic qualities of earlier music.18 Semiotics, the study o f signs, is a term borrowed
from the field of linguistics. According to Wilson Coker, semiotics is the foundation of all
studies of musical meaning.19 Semiotics studies not only the system of signs, but also
other sounds, gestures, appearances, and patterns of behavior that constitute
communication, focusing on the relationships between signs.20 Although there is no
question that music is symbolic, the distinction between signs and symbols is not always
17Tibor Kneif, “Hermeneutics,” The New Grove Dictionary o f Music and

Musicians, ed. Stanley Sadie, 20 vols. (London; Macmillan, 1980), 8:511.
isibid.
19Wilson Coker, Music and Meaning: A Theoretical Introduction to Music

Aesthetics (New York: The Free Press, 1972), 1.
20Ian Bent, “Semiology,” The New Grove, 17:123.
193
clear.21 A sign is one thing used to represent something else.22 Semiologist Jean-Jacques
Nattiez defined symbols as signs that refer to things that are absent23 Susanne K. Langer
stated that “symbols are not proxy for their objects, but are vehicles for the conception o f
objects. Leslie White clarified by saying that it is the human attribution of abstract
meaning that makes a thing a symbol.25 Although the terms sign and symbol are used
inconsistently, it can be concluded from these definitions that a symbol is a sign taken to
a higher level of abstraction. To confuse matters more, something may be a sign, but its
meaning on an abstract level may make it a symbol as well.26
Recent authors have studied musical symbolism in order to determine what music
\
communicated to contemporary listeners. Modem semiotics originated in the field of
linguistics with the theories of Ferdinand de Saussure (1857-1913), which sought to
explain the relationships between signs and what they signify. For Saussure, language was
21Alan P. Merriam, The Anthropology o f Music (Evanston, IL: Northwestern

University Press, 1964), 230.
22Jean-Jacques Nattiez, Music and Discourse: Toward a Semiology o f Music,

trans. Carolyn Abbate (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1990), 3.
23lbid., 35.
24Susanne K. Langer, Philosophy m a New Key (New York: Mentor, 1942), 49;
quoted in Merriam, The Anthropology o f Music, 231.
25Leslie A. White, The Science o f Culture (New York: Farrar and Straus, 1949), 26;
quoted in Merriam, The Anthropology o f Music, 231.
26Merriam, The Anthropology o f Music, 231.
194
a closed system with specific meanings. In his view, structure was possible only when
the relationship between the signifier [sign/symbol] and the signified [object or concept]
07
was stable. Many subsequent authors have denied that this type of relationship exists
between music and the meaning it conveys. Saussure’s theory, they say, does not allow
for the contextual relativity of music.28
One of the early authors in the field of musical symbolism, Susanne K. Langer,
posited two types of symbolization: discursive, the method employed by language, and
presentational, the type exemplified by music and the other arts. Both of these symbolic
modes function on the underlying principle of the perception of a common logical form
between the symbol and that which is symbolized.29 For Langer, music does not have the
fixed property of syntax. When music itself is used as audible sign, Langer believed, what
is often seen as a weakness in music is really its strength. According to Langer, music
communicates emotional states that cannot be conveyed verbally; it provides a language
for feeling. Langer asserted that because the forms of human feeling are more congruent
with musical forms than with the forms of language, musicians can reveal the nature of
feelings with more precision than can be conveyed with language.30 Langer continued:
27Nattiez, Music and Discourse, 5.
28Wayne D. Bowman, Philosophical Perspectives on Music (Oxford Oxford

University Press, 1998), 241.
MIbid., 200.
30Susanne K. Langer, Philosophy in a New Key, 235.
195
The classifications which language makes automatically preclude many

relations and many of those resting-points of thought which we call terms. It is
just because music has not the same terminology and pattern that it lends itself to
the revelation of non-scientific concepts. To render the most ordinary feelings,
such as love, loyalty, or anger unambiguously and distinctly would be merely to
duplicate what verbal appellations do well enough. 31
Regarding the emotional content in music, Langer said that if music has emotional content,
“It has it in the same sense that language has its conceptual content-symbolically.”32
Semiologist Jean-Jacques Nattiez also rejected the idea of one-to-one
correspondences between signifiers (symbols) and signifieds (symbolized). Nattiez
stated, rather, that music is whatever people choose to recognize as such, and its
meanings are constituted by the interpretation of those engaged with the music.33 He
explained that a musical work assumes many meanings and evokes a variety of emotions.
Nattiez used the expression “symbolic form” to designate music’s capacity to “give rise
to a complex and infinite web of responses.”34
Meyer suggests that the existence of many different musical style systems, both
in different cultures and within a single culture, shows that styles are constructed by
musicians in a particular time and place and that they are not based upon relationships
3ilbid.,233.
32Ibid.
33Bowman, Philosophical Perspectives, 201.
196
inherent in the tonal material itself.35 Cultures have always used music to elicit group
responses, a goal accomplished through choices of patterns of sound, specific instruments
or combinations of instruments, and varying rhythms and dynamics.36
Symbolic communication takes place only when a gesture has the same meaning
for the individual who makes it as it has for the individual who responds to it37
Anthony Storr posited a culturally based response when he observed that music develops
within a culture and “has the effect of intensifying or underlining the emotion that a
particular event calls forth by simultaneously coordinating the emotion of groups of
people.”38 Langer argued, “If music had no other purpose than to stimulate and soothe
the nerves and please the ears, it might be highly popular, but never culturally
important”39
Associations with music are drawn from an individual’s unique perception of the
world, and the manner in which an individual responds to music is influenced by his
35Meyer, Emotion and Meaning, 60.
36Roskam, Feeling the Sound, 44.
37George H. Mead, Mind, Self, and Society (Chicago: University of Chicago Press,
1934), 42-75; quoted in Meyer, Emotion and Meaning, 40.
38Storr, Music and the Mind, 24.
39Susanne K. Langer, Feeling and Form: A Theory o f Art (New York: Charles
Scribner’s Sons, 1953), 28.
197
socio-cultural background.40 Therefore, there cannot be an empirical analysis of symbolic
functioning.41 Meanings that may be appear to be based upon natural responses actually
are the result of codified systems to which listeners have become enculturated.42
The symbolic content of earlier music, such as the use of the cantus firmus, was
never more than fragmentary 43 At the turn of the sixteenth century, number symbolism
and the use of soggetto cavato appeared in the works of composers such as Josquin. The
purpose of these symbols was not to enhance the meaning of the chosen text, but to offer
another narrative, another level of meaning. In the compositions of Gesualdo and his
N.
contemporaries, music was used not only to depict the text, already a symbol in itself,
but to symbolize the emotions or feelings aroused by that text
The simplest type of symbolism used by the composers of Gesualdo’s era was
word painting in which music imitates other sounds, such as those in nature. As the
appropriate setting of the text became more important, composers established procedures
for setting individual words. For example, an ascending line came to suggest heaven and
the word “life” was depicted with a spirited melodic line.
4ilbid, 108.
42Ibid., 123.
43Kneif, “Hermeneutics,” The New Grove, 8:511.
198
By the end of the sixteenth century, further conventions were established as
composers and theorists sought to develop a one-to-one relationship between musical
gesture and meaning. So strongly did Vincenzo Galilei believe that only one setting could
appropriately set a particular text, he and the others in the Florentine Camerata rejected
polyphonic music in favor of monody. Although Gesualdo and many of his
contemporaries did not adopt the new monodic style, they used these conventions to
create a deeper symbolism to convey the mood of their texts. Seventeenth-century
authors attempted to codify these conventions in their treatises, both explaining their use
in music and providing manuals to assist composers in using rhetorical devices.
Music and Rhetoric
Composers at the turn of the seventeenth century believed that music was a
vehicle for communicating extramusical meaning and that they could create music to
embody the passion and emotion of the text. Zarlino had already delineated specific
associations of text and music in his Istitutioni harmoniche (1558). Giulio Cesare
Monteverdi (1607) mentioned this relationship of music and text in his defense of his
brother’s music. This manner of thought was further developed and carried through the
Baroque period as the Doctrine of Affections.
Interrelationships between music and the spoken arts played an important role
throughout the Renaissance, during which time music was predominantly vocal and thus
bound to words. Composers were therefore influenced to some degree by traditional
199
rhetorical doctrines and tried to apply them when setting texts to music.44 Nowhere was
this more true than with the madrigal composers of the sixteenth century.
As George J. Buelow observed, “All rhetorically related musical concepts
originated in the extensive literature on oratory and rhetoric by ancient Greek and Roman
writers.”45 The basic purpose of the rhetorical doctrine was to instruct the orator in the
means of controlling and directing the emotions of his audience, enabling him to move the
affections. The interest of the humanists in classical thought influenced the composers’
attitudes to texted music, sacred as well as secular, and led to the creation of such new
musical styles and forms as the madrigal and opera.46 According to Buelow, the union of
music with rhetorical principles became one of the most distinctive characteristics of
music of the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries.47
The Praecepta musicae poeticae (1563) of Gallus Dressier first related music to
the formal divisions of oratory: exordium, medium, andfinis** Henry Peacham the
Elder’s The Garden o f Eloquence (1593) provided an comprehensive summary of the art
44George J. Buelow, “Rhetoric and Music,” The New Grove, 15:793.
45Ibid.
46IbicL
4?Ibid.
48Ibid., 15:794.
200
of rhetoric.49 In Joachim Burmeister’s Musica poetica (1606), rhetorical terminology was
raised to the level of defining compositional structure. Johannes Lippius, too, suggested
that rhetorical doctrine was the basis for the structure of a composition in his treatise,
Synopsis musices (1612).50 Athanasius Kircher, whose conservative view of music placed
it as a unique symbol of God’s order expressed in number, examined rhetorical figures and
described the affective nature of music in his influential treatise, Musurgia universalis
(1650).51 In 1739, in Der volkommene Capellmeister, Mattheson posited an organized,
rational plan of musical composition based upon the concepts of rhetorical theory that
were concerned with finding and presenting arguments: inventio (invention of an idea),
dispositio (arrangement of the idea into the parts of an oration), decoratio (the elaboration
or decoration of the idea), and pronuntiatio (the performance or delivery of the oration).S2
The decoratio of rhetorical theory, the rules and techiques upon which the orator
relied to lend passion to his speech, was the source of the most systematic transformation
of rhetorical concepts into musical equivalents.53 To accomplish this goal, the composers
turned to the concept of figures of speech. George Buelow observed, “As early as
^Gregory G. Butler, “Music and Rhetoric in Early Seventeenth-Century English

Sources,” The Musical Quarterly 66, no. 1 (January 1980): 54.
50Buelow, “Rhetoric and Music,” The New Grove, 15:794.
51George Buelow, “Kircher, Athanasius,” The New Grove, 10:74.
52Buelow, “Rhetoric and Music,” The New Grove, 15:794.
53Ibid.
201
Renaissance music, both sacred and secular, there is ample evidence that composers
employed various musical-rhetorical means to illustrate or emphasize words and ideas in
the text Indeed the whole musical literature of the madrigal unequivocally depends on this
use of musical rhetoric.”54
Beginning in the seventeenth century, theorists attempted to codify these
rhetorical figures and assigned them names taken from oratory. From this literature,
Buelow divided the figures frequently cited by seventeenth- and eighteenth-century
theorists into seven categories:55
A. Figures of melodic repetition
B. Figures based on fugal imitation
C. Figures formed by dissonance structures
D. Interval figures
E. Hypotyposis figures (illustrating words or poetic ideas)
F. Sound figures
G. Figures formed by silence
Such rhetorical devices abound throughout Gesualdo’s sacred works. His use of
some of these conventions plays a large role in his expression of texts concerning sorrow
and death.
54lbid., 15:795.
55IbicL, 15:793.
202
Several of these devices have already been described as part of Gesualdo’s musical
language. Anaphora, one of the figures of melodic repetition, is the reiteration of a melodic
idea on different pitches in different parts.56 Such repetition could, of course, be the
natural result of imitative polyphony. Yet Gesualdo sometimes made a statement more
forceful by using unexpected pitches in crowded entrances such as in Tradiderunt me, the
seventh response for Good Friday. Entrances on unexpected pitches at uneven time
intervals present the text Congregati sunt adversum me fortes (the mighty gathered
together against me) both in its original form and in inversion (Fig. 82).
Figure 82. Anaphora in Tradiderunt me, mm. 20-27.
The rhetorical device most readily observed in Gesualdo’s writings is the interval
figure pathopoeia, a movement by semitones outside a harmony or scale to express
affections such as sadness and fear.57 The previous chapters have cited many instances of
56Ibid., 15:795.
STIbid., 15:798.
203
Gesualdo’s reliance upon the extensive use of chromaticism and Vicentino’s chromatic
genus. Also essential to Gesualdo’s language is hypotyposis, a musical figure that
illustrates words or poetic ideas, often by emphasizing the pictorial nature of the word.58
This, of course, refers to the employment of madrigalisms or word painting frequently
used by Gesualdo and his contemporaries. Further divisions of this category include
anabasis and catabasis, passages that depict textual connotations of ascending or
descending, repectively.59
The syncope is the rhetorical term for suspension, one of the most common forms
of dissonance Gesualdo used in these sacred works.60 The term parrhesia is a cross
relation or stark dissonance such as the tritone.61 Cross relations often occur in
Gesualdo’s sacred works, particularly in the employment of successive major triads in a
third relationship. Instances of both melodic and harmonic tritones have been shown and
described in previous chapters.
The rhetorical device of mutatio toni is the sudden change of mode for emphasis.62
In Gesualdo’s sacred music, this change of mode might result from the use of the
ssibid.
59lbid.
60Ibid„ 15:797.
silbid., 15:798.
62IbicL, 15:799.
204
chromatic motive or a cross relation. Noema, another of the rhetorical devices employed
by Gesualdo, was described as a purely homophonic section, usually consonant, within a
polyphonic section.64 The term suspiratio referred to the use of rests within a musical
line to illustrate the text, another technique found in these sacred works.65
Themes of Sorrow and Death
In Gesualdo’s sacred works, the musical setting becomes a symbol for the passion
or emotion underlying the text Gesualdo’s choice of texts confirms certain obsessive
traits found in his other works.66 Evident is his preoccupation with sorrow, as well as his
ongoing obsession with death. Gesualdo emphasized words expressing these concepts
throughout his works.
Gesualdo did not couch his symbolism in specific terms. Rather than providing
each concept with a distinctive musical symbol, Gesualdo used all of the expressive
devices available to him in combination. Three broad categories characterize the
compositional techniques he used as musical symbols: emphasis through fragmentation,
repetition, and melismas; chromaticism; and punctuation by rests and changes of texture.
The more pathetic his text, the more heavily he layered these devices. When Gesualdo
wanted to give special emphasis to words and concepts, he first subjected the text to
64IbicL
ssibid., 15:800.
66Glenn Watkins, “Introduction,” Gesualdo di Venosa: Samtliche Werke, 10 vols.

205
fragmentation and repetition in a diatonic setting; a particular word might be set
melismatically. Chromaticism was gradually added, sometimes to the extreme. In addition,
other rhetorical devices such as suspiratio or noema might be used for further emphasis.
The following discussion explores Gesualdo’s use of these various musical devices to set
his themes of sorrow and death.
Sinfulness of Man
Documentary evidence indicates that Gesualdo’s experience of sorrow and
extreme spiritual torment likely resulted from his murder of his first wife and her lover.
That Gesualdo was aware of and identified with the sinful nature of the human condition
is exemplified by his setting of Ave, Regina coelorum (VTII: 1). In this Marian motet,
Gesualdo musically contrasted the holiness of the Virgin Mary with the sinful nature of
man. As the focus of the text changes from the song of praise to Mary, set in diatonic
counterpoint of the sixteenth century, to the request of the sinners with the text etpro
nobis semper Christum exora (and always pray to Christ for us), the musical style
undergoes significant change. Imitative entries that boast the use of cross relations (the
rhetorical device parrhesia) and the diminished fourth usher in a section replete with
chromaticism created by the use of the chromatic motive in all of the voices (pathopoeia),
resulting in the occurrence of major and minor versions of triads on A (mm. 57-59) and
suggesting the rhetorical device of mutatio toni (Fig. 83).
Figure 83. Musical depiction of the sinful nature of man in Ave, Regina
coelonm, mm. 46-60.
Gesualdo echoed this prayer to Mary in Ave dulcissima Maria (VHI:3). Once
again, the song of praise to Mary is written in traditional contrapuntal style. After a
breath (suspiratio), Gesualdo sets the cry to Mary, O Maria, homophonically (noema),
beginning on a G-sharp diminished triad. Additional chromaticism in the phrase creates
207
the major sonorities on E and A (the E6 in measure 29 would have been considered a
minor triad, however, because of the minor third appearing above the bass). The cry is
repeated a fifth lower, with the relationship between the end of the first statement and the
beginning of the second revealing the falling third that is so prevalent in Gesualdo’s works
(Fig. 84).
c £ **3.? A b
Figure 84. Musical depiction of the sinful nature of man in Ave, dulcissima
Maria, mm. 28-33.
The cry continues as the sinners ask the flos virginum (flower among virgins) to {way for
them (ora pro nobis). This section is set contrapuntally with the request for prayer
beginning in the cantus. The phrase ora pro nobis is interrupted by a rest (suspiratio)
after the statement of the word ora in all of the voices except the cantus, and resumes
with the chromatic motive in the cantus and quintus and in contorted form in the altus,
creating a third relationship in the homophonic setting (Fig. 85).
o
Figure 85. Musical depiction of sinful nature of man in^ve, dulcissima

Maria, mm. 33-44.
Just as the painting in S. Maria delle Grazie shows Gesualdo as the contrite
sinner, settings of words conveying the concept of sin received special treatment in the
sacred works. Melodic leaps followed by step in the same direction and entrances that
create dissonances present the word peccantem (sin) in Peccantem me quotidie (W I: 10)
(Fig. 86).
Figure 86. Musical depiction of sin in Peccantem me quotidie, mm. 1-5.
In Ave sanctissima Maria (IX:4), Maiy is once again asked to pray for our sins
(ora pro peccatis nostris) in a passage that emphasizes the words peccatis nostris through
fragmentation and repetition with the chromatic motive appearing in the tenor (mm. 61-
62) and the cantos (mm. 71-72) and the leading tone inflection in the tenor (mm. 72-73).
Nostris is further emphasized through the use of melismas and a sustained note in the
cantus in the final three measures (Fig. 87).
210
-j-J J !I i | |j (i |j jz | |j j
t * ab o • - tani ma - • lo,
V
at o * - ra , at o • • ra* it
5 ^ ......... 1
i-u -C ' V i r -■ ! i}fj - r 1f r c 1 fd a c
0 J boo ab o - m ai ma - lo , i t o - ra, a t o ra pro pao-ea • tls ao -
6 « - to* at o - ra, it o -
r ya ~ =-^ ?- r — — -■
■ •.H - 't-
« iJ •••d - j xT ic 11 *
lo, it o . ra* • to - - - ra pro pao - ea- tU ao -
-y>r ■■■■ = . -t = — = =j
A
itr u . «t o
pro it r t s .
so * atria.
pro pco - aa-tia ao • Ctrl* pro pas atria.
pro p«o - ea tls ao • atria* pro p a o - e a -
Figure 87. Musical depiction of sin in^4ve sanctissima Maria, mm. 57-74.
211
In O cmima sanctissima (IX: 19), the text ut nobispeccatorum (of our sins) is
repeated several times before peccatorum (sins) is finally emphasized in a long in
the altus (Fig. 88).
• pa, at no b li pro
pro ptcat-to - ram eal •
T • r a n eal - pa
Figure 88. Musical depiction of sin in O anima sanctissima, mm. 28-31.
The text ne mtretis in tentationem (lead us not into temptation) is accentuated in
Una hora non potuistis, the eighth response for Maundy Thursday. As the text is
repeated several times in all the voices, chromaticism begins to creep in gradually, first
through the use of the neighbor inflection in the cantus and quintus in measures 43-44,
then by the chromatic motive in the sextus in measures 45-47. Further occurrences of the
inflections lead to the final measures of the setting with the chromatic motive in the tenor
and bassus and an expanded leading tone inflection in the altus and sextus (Fig. 89).
212
In t u > t * ti
12467462
Vel JttdAm
Figure 89. Musical depiction of temptation in Una hora non potuistis, mm. 42-56.
213
Again reflecting the painting in S. Maria delle Grazie in his choice of texts and
settings, Gesualdo pleads for mercy. Two settings of the text miserere mei appear in the
five-voice motets, in Hei mihi, Domine (VTEI:8) and Peccantem me qiiotidie (VIII: 10). In
Hei mihi, Domine, the entrance of the miserere text follows a cadence on D at the end of
the previous phrase and a pause that is created by rests. The entrance on a B major
sonority, a third lower than the previous cadence, is anticipated by the altus entrance on
F-sharp. The cantus is also rhythmically displaced at its beginning, but joins the quintus
and tenor as the altus continues in its own rhythm. The text is repeated on an E major
sonority. The chromaticism in the setting results from the use of the Phrygian half-step
(Fig. 90).
Figure 90. Musical depiction of miserere in Hei mihi, Domine, mm. 33-38.
In the setting of the same text in Peccantem me quotidie, the entrance of all the
parts is again anticipated by the altus, which is joined by the tenor. Third relationships
occur in the vertical sonorities setting the word miserere (G-sharp diminished - E-flat - c -
214
C-sharp diminished - a). More pathos is added to the individual lines and the overall
mood with the use of notes followed by their lowered inflection (C-sharp to C-natural in
the cantus, mm. 58-59, and B-natural to B-flat in the bassus in measure 61). The
ascending chromatic motive appears in the altus in measures 62-63 (Fig. 91). Once
Gesualdo begins moving through the final text, Miserere mei, Deus, et salva me (Have
mercy on me God, and save me), the tension is never broken as the music pulls through
its chromatic setting, without the interruption of clear-cut cadences, to the end of the
motet
A 0UaM * IIH •
Figure 91. Musical depiction of miserere in Peccantem me quotidie, mm 55-64.
215
In the homophonic setting of Miserere mei. Psalm 50, sung as a part of the
Tenebrae service, the chromatic motive in the sextus (mm 3-4) and the leading inflection
in the altus (mm. 5-6) emphasize the text. In the second part of the verse, secundum
magnam misericordiam tuam (according to Thy great mercy), misericordiam tuam (Thy
mercy) is separated from the preceding text by a rest (suspiratio), further highlighting the
concept of mercy. The chromatic motive occurs again in the cantus, along with an
expanded leading tone inflection in the quintus (Fig. 92).
j A Miserere __
a
5
*
r
3
Figure 92. Musical depiction of miserere in Miserere mei, mm. 1-10.
216
Sorrow
Gesualdo’s preoccupation with sorrow is exhibited not only in his choice of texts
that echo that theme, but in their musical settings. In Tribulationem et dolorem imeni
(VIH: 17) the text tribvlationem et dolorem (tribulation and sorrow) receive special
treatment through the use of repetition. The upper neighbor inflection in the cantus in
measures 9-10 and the octave leap on flatted notes in the bassus in measure 13 serve to
further stress tribulationem (tribulation). Et dolorem (and sorrow) is highlighted by the
use of the chromatic motive in the quintus (mm. 2-3) and the bassus (mm. 7-8) and
melismas that feature the neighbor inflection (Fig. 93).
217
_ ^■ ■ i |
T ri - ba - U - t i * 0 * aemt
S.. ■ 1
^ .
T tl bu - U - t i - o - a cm ft d o -lo •
1 A---------1----- 1— i
----- i 1
I - f i y
f i
f
jt^ r | p n y . p = [J J + ^ -- — J]
t T r i - hu - l t * d * o * a cm *t d o -lo • - m n , ct do - lo -
f c = =
n«m ft do* lo . bn
a i, t t do - •* — do - lo *
tri - n«m
r« a, «t do - lo «t d o -lo •
Figure 93. Musical depiction of sorrow in Tribulationem et dolorem

inveni, mm. 1-18.
The Lamentations text 0 vos omnes is set three times in these collections. In each
case, O vos (O you) is stated, followed by a rest and a statement of o vos omnes (O all of
you) on a major sonority a minor third lower; another rest occurs before the phrase
continues. The text si est dolor, sicut dolor meus (if there be any sorrow like unto my
sorrow) receives a similar setting in all three compositions, one characterized by the use
of extreme chromaticism. In the Sacrae cantiones (VUI: 11), Gesualdo’s setting of this text
begins on A, moving to a B-flat triad. Chromaticism is first introduced through the use of
a cross relation between the F in the bassus and the F-sharp in the cantus in measure 17.
Each of the voices is then punctuated with chromatic inflection, the chromatic motive (C -
C-sharp - D) first appearing on the text est dolor in the quintus in measure 18. In
measures 22-25, the chromaticism in the cantus is created by the neighbor inflection and
the chromatic motive. In the altus the chromatic motive occurs both ascending (G - G-
sharp - A) and descending (A - G-sharp - G-natural - F-sharp), finishing with the motive
on E - D-sharp - D-natural - C-sharp. Other notes in measures 25-28 are chromatically
inflected to create the major sonority on B (a third lower than the D major triad ending the
previous statement of the text) and A. The tension created by the extreme chromaticism is
heightened by the rhythmically offset movement of voices in an almost homophonic
texture (Fig 94). This entire section is then repeated.
Figure 94. Musical depiction of sorrow in 0 vos omnes, mm. 15-28.
In Caligaverunt oculi mei, the ninth response for Good Friday, the verse sets the
entire text o f O vos omnes, beginning with the fragmented third relationship already
described. The setting of the text si est dolor similis sicut dolor metis in the verse is
anticipated by an almost identical setting in the preceding B section. It is less chromatic
than that given in the Sacrae cantiones, but the text is likewise subjected to fragmentation
and repetition for emphasis. The chromatic motive occurs in the bassus in measures 62-
64; other chromaticism results from the use of the leading tone and neighbor inflections
220
and chromatic inflections that are used to change the quality of vertical sonorities. The
cross relation between the bassus and the altus in measure 74 occurs as a result of the
chromatically inflected F used to create a D major triad (Fig. 95).
[ID _____
do-lor d - mi • lit.
I
mt do-lan
si t*t do-lor ti-m i - lls, d - m i - Us d o • at do - lo r n * • as, sis*at
_ do -lo r d-m i* us d * « at do lor— mo • as, do * a t do
•ot do — * lo r si - - ml • us
■Je - »*. do*at do - • lor mo • • as.

i 3
—
------ ' - a ----- b3 = =3= - £ L a ~ ■H-------— ------- 1— c r- =&
A ^
•la - • at do • lo r mo * • - • as.
r‘ \ Pr r f i(*iT»s=----*—
rtr r ■u - t
1! mo*00 * f do a t do • lor mo -
' _ do * lo r d - ^ d -Us sis - a t do lo r mo j , » • as*
J . do at do lor. s i s - a t d o * lo r mo * • as.
sis -
m
a t do - lor
-i r
Figure 95. Musical depiction of sorrow in Caligavenmt oculi mei, mm. 61-78.
221
After the expected use of thirds for the opening of the fifth response for Holy
Saturday, O vos omnes, Gesualdo set the text si est dolor similis sicut dolor meus in a
thick texture that is heavily punctuated with chromaticism. The setting is rhythmically
active in the beginning, but finishes with a sustained-note passage. As in the Sacrae
cantiones, chromatic inflection occurs at the end (ram. 27-31) relating a B major sonority
to the previous D major one. This time the two triads are separated by a rest (snspiratio)
for additional textual emphasis. Again, the close setting of the voices lends tension, which
is further heightened by the use of sustained notes and melismas (Fig. 96).
lor si • atf-Us
si «*t do - lor d * mHJs do*
a no • « ao • lor b i •
Figure 96. Musical depiction o f sorrow in O vos omnes, mm. 15-31.
222
In Jerusalem, surge, the second response for Holy Saturday, the text induere te
cmere et cilicio (put on ashes and sackcloth) is set chromatically, further emphasizing the
ideas of grief and mourning. The leading tone inflection occurs in the cantus in measures
16 and 17, and the chromatic motive appears in the sextus in measure 17-18, in the tenor
in measures 20-21, and in the sextus and altus in measures 21-22 (Fig. 97).
is * d n -« - n t* ci . n« - rn
Figure 97. Musical depiction of mourning in Jerusalem, surge, mm. 16-25.
223
In Discedite a me omnes (IX:6), to set the words jletus mei (my tears),
chromaticism is gradually added, first through the use of F-sharps in the altus. The
descending chromatic motive adds a pleading tone in the cantus and altus in measures 51-
52, and chromatic inflections in measures 56-59 serve to create a third relationship, C - E
(Fig. 98).
d
tii
S
A
• m i- fit - ta t
fit - • taa
f it - - ta t mt
at - i —
Figure 98. Musical setting of jletus mei in Discedite a me omnes, mm. 48-59.
224
In Ardens est cor meum (IX: 14), the text lachrymans quaero (I seek him weeping)
stands out from its diatonic surroundings in a chromatic setting emphasizing flatted notes
with the chromatic motive in the cantus and altus and the neighbor inflection in the tenor
(Fig. 99).
/J
C
5
Pi
* 1* - - «h«y • ro
r
• ro
Figure 99. Musical setting of lachrymans quaero in Ardens est cor meum, mm 27-32.
In O anima sanctissima (IX: 19), the word lachrymae is emphasized by chromatic
inflection (Fig. 100).
T
3
Figure 100. Musical setting of lachrymae in O anima sanctissima, mm 47-49.
225
In Caligaverunt oculi mei, the ninth response for Good Friday, to set the text a
jletu meo (by my tears), chromatically altered notes create sonorities in third
relationships: c - C - E - C - a - A ( F i g . 20).
c • 01 ____ f B l - •
5 ■ ta a t
A
Q
T 1*1- >_
a ■ • - 0, • fla • ttn •J"*ul - »
c c Et. 3 5_rA- A
Figure 101. Musical setting of a fletu meo in Caligaverunt oculi mei, mm. 6-12.
In the verse of the second response for Holy Saturday, Jerusalem, surge, there is
a distinct difference in the setting of the two phrases Deduc quasi torrentem lacrimas per
diem et noctem (shed thy tears iike a torrent, day and night) and et non taceatpupilla oculi
tui (let not the apple of thine eye be dry). The verse begins with imitative entries in the
quintus and altus with melismas depicting torrents of tears. As the other voices enter the
lament, relationship of thirds are created, beginning with an augmented triad on A moving
to c-sharp - a - E - G - F - E . This setting stands in sharp contrast with the setting of the
text et non taceat pupilla oculi tui, in which the dryness is depicted by a declamatory
226
homophonic texture and movement through a circle of fifths ( E - A - D - G - C ) (Fig.
102).
per 41* cm.

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per.
per cm et
e rl * •t ao
per 41
&
11462081
I t i a ta -o a - at, r t BOO U - n - i t pa - pll - U o__ ,-Ii tu - • U
* at.
<1 aoa ta -o a • at at bob t a - e a - a t nu - mil • la o - «t-ll ta -
r t aoa ta-oa - a t pa - pH - la o - au-U tu -
Figure 102. Musical depiction of weeping in Jerusalem, surge, mm. 36-53.
227
The contrite sinner mourns his state in O anima sanctissima (IX.T9). In the
setting o f the text contritionis lachrymae (tears of contrition), melismas emphasize
contritionis preceding the chromatic setting of the word lachrymae (Fig. 103).
C l«a -
fl
a
• ail
-r eon * t r i * U * o »
A tri - » tt • o * -oi* In * ehr7 * « M eon - - - e» *
T - -------------------
-ft L p f . . . _
1 .
1 J -
___ „ < r I . l m— n. , n *— --------c -------- ±.---------- -
# • tl * o • * - * * * ai r I n • * e h rjv a o ,ln • e&iX*OM eon*oo*dnn *
K | | | | H 1 - i =f H - r ■■ - - ^— tH
t o o a -trt - tl - » ............................................i l l
J ^
In-etUTBM eon * e« - don -
A l ., vi J ■ :i
V rta , eon* t r i - tl - o*oU - e h f y .m ^ , La -
K ‘ 1
Figure 103. Musical setting of contritionis lachrymae in 0 anima

sanctissima, mm. 41-48.
Death
Gesualdo’s obsession with death is evident throughout these works. In Domine,
ne despicias (VHI:7), the text et protege me nunc et in hora mortis meae (and protect me
228
now and in the hour of my death) is fragmented and repeated several times. Chromaticism
occurs as the result of the leading tone and neighbor inflection The final repetition of the
text is announced by the use of the upper neighbor motive in the cantus and bassus.
Gesualdo’s version of mutatio toni is effected by a cross relation between the C-sharp in
the quintus and the C in the cantus that results in the juxtaposition of A major and A
minor triads (Fig. 104).
C
P.
* mor< ct in h o - rn o o r tu m«
T ho * rm»
6 ra n o r - tin in bo •
Figure 104. Musical depiction of death in Domine, ne despicias, mm. 41-47.
Gesualdo’s paranoia and fear of death are also reflected in his treatment of the
final line o f the prayer to Mary in Maria, mater gratiae (VIII: 19). The text, ab hoste
protege et hora mortis suscipe (protect us from our enemies and receive us at the hour of
our death), is fragmented and repeated, this time in a prolonged passage (almost two
pages in the Samtliche Werke) of rhythmically close imitative polyphony. Leading tone
inflections, large melodic intervals, suspensions, and a harmonic tritone (m. 42)
229
characterize Gesualdo’s setting of the passage, which also includes the use of E-flats to
prevent tritones in the transposed Ionian mode (Fig. 105).
C
tu s tt pro ho m or - tis
fl
is, «t ho - ru a o r - tis, m or -
Q tu aos,
T
ic i • p«, tu aos ib ho it* p ro • tt-g* «t ho-ra m o r -
5 tis su -
tis, m or • til m . soups.

. Tf
tu aos, tu aos it# pro
«t ho
• tis *o- tcx - pe»
tu aos tu aos
Figure 105. Musical depiction of death in Maria, mater gratiae, mm. 37-48.
Suscipe (receive us) is emphasized near the end of the motet through the use of
suspiratio, a rest following the word in the cantus, qumtus, and bassus and a melismatic
setting of the word in the altus (Fig. 106).
Figure 106. Musical setting of svscipe in Maria, mater gratiae, mm. 50-60.
Again the sinner prays to Mary in Virgo benedicta (DC: 1), this time to intercede
now and at the hour of his death (nunc et in hora mortis meae). As in the other examples,
the text is fragmented and repeated in all of the voices. In the final repetition the
juxtaposition of A minor and A major is created by the chromatic motive in the cantus
with the leading tone inflection in the altus and quintus (Fig. 107).
Figure 107. Musical depiction of death in Virgo benedicta, mm. 54-59.
For the text sedentes in tenebris et umbra mortis (those who sit in darkness and
the shadow of death) in O Oriens, splendor (DC:5), the use of flatted notes portrays
darkness (tenebris) while the chromatic motive is used to illustrate the shadow of death
(umbra mortis) (Fig. 108).
232
itzt tM n
«t on - br*
d tn
aor
in so - brio ir» ao r Its
tU
M>d«a • b i li t i • ao-brio bim aor tte
so* brio
Figure 108. Musical depiction of darkness and death in O Oriens, splendor, mm. 47-63.
233
A similar text, in lacu inferiori, in tenebrosis, et umbra mortis (in the pit, in dark
places, and in the shadow of death), in Aestimatvs, the eighth response for Holy Saturday,
is set in like fashion. Gesualdo depicted the words lacu inferiori (the pit) using a cross
relation between the altvs and tenor and a tritone between the quintus and tenor in
measure 36, exemplifying the rhetorical device ofparrhesia. In tenebrosis (in dark places)
is set with flatted notes, and et umbra mortis (and the shadow of death) is represented by
the chromatic motive moving throughout the upper three voices (Fig. 109).
12062445
• h r* a o r - tit.
Figure 109. Musical depiction of darkness and death in Aestimatus, mm. 34-49.
234
The text qui in tenebris, et umbra mortis sedent (those who sit in darkness ana tn
the shadow of death) occurs in the Benedictus. The chromatic motive appears in both the
cantus and the tenor (Fig. 110).
d tatr
ad dl-ri-g t
M di-ri-gi
b ra a o r - t u m - d o t : ad di-ri-f
Figure 110. Musical depiction of darkness and death in Benedictus, mm. 66-71.
The text recolitur memoria passionis ejus (the memory of thy passion is recalled)
refers to the death of Christ in 0 sacrum convivium (IX:9). A passage of traditional
sixteenth-century counterpoint is interrupted by the setting of the words passionis ejus
(thy passion) employing the chromatic motive and the neighbor inflection in the cantus
and the expanded leading tone inflection in the quintus (Fig. 111).
Reproduced with permission o f the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.
235
p u * i l - 0 - ois, p * s -tl - o - nis • -
r» - co • U*tnr □SC•BO
p u - i l . o * a is , f M * il • o -
• rt-o
* Jm :
Figure 111. Musical depiction of death in O sacrum convivium, mm. 24-35.
Another text dealing with the death of Christ, et ego vadam immolari pro vobis
(and I go to be offered up for you), is from Tristis est anima mea, the second response for
Maundy Thursday. Once again, the text is fragmented and repeated and set in triads in
third relationships, separated by movement in seconds. Three of the four notes of the
chromatic genus (G-sharp - G-natural - E) present the text Et ego vadam (and I go), first
in the cantus, then imitated and extended to the new text in the sextus. The motive is
236
taken again by the cantus, this time as C-sharp - C-natural - A, and repeated in the same
voice, lending additional pathos to the text. The recipient of this gift of salvation is
emphasized by the use of the chromatic motive, then a long melisma in the sextus (and a
short one in the quintus) on the word vobis (you) (Fig. 112).
237
T
Am im -m o -U . rl
E>
j a m
r r i
Ia b lm-mo-1* • r l
pf« to - hit, pro to - - • b it.
Figure 112. Musical depiction of death in Tristis est cmima mea, mm. 33-47.
238
In the first response for Holy Saturday, Sicut ovis, special attention is given to the
text traditus est ad mortem (he was delivered unto death). The descending form of the
chromatic motive, along with leading tone inflections, appear throughout the repetitions
to emphasize ad mortem (to death). This text is further emphasized by the use of
sustained notes on the word mortem (Fig. 113).
Figure 113. Musical depiction of death in Sicut ovis, mm. 25-38.
240
Gesualdo’s unique musical language was drawn from the innovations of his
immediate predecessors and contemporaries and reflected his own spiritual and emotional
state. Like other composers of the late Renaissance, Gesualdo sought to convey the
emotions embodied in his texts by their musical settings. Through convention and
personal expression these composers created symbols for the emotions that their texts
communicated. In the seventeenth century, many of these conventions were codified by
German and English theorists and given names from Greek oratory.
By his extreme use of the devices employed by his contemporaries, Gesualdo
added another layer of communication to his music. Not only did he paint his text by
successfully illustrating the meaning of the words, he also used his musical techniques to
relate the underlying emotional response experienced by the composer himself or the
response he expected from his listeners. His musical settings conveyed not only the
concepts of sorrow and death, but also the emotional torment created by the
contemplation of these ideas.
CONCLUSION
Carlo Gesualdo stood at the threshold of the Baroque era. Behind him, forming the
foundation for his compositional style, was the Renaissance, the Golden Age of
Polyphony. Before him were the new expressive ideals of the early Baroque period. The
compositional practices of both eras significantly influenced Gesualdo’s musical style.
The legacy Gesualdo inherited from the Renaissance was a rich one. Through the
invention of printing, Renaissance thinkers had more access to information than was
available to the scholars of previous ages. One of the most important publications,
Boethius’s De institutione musica, related the ancient Greek philosophy of the doctrine of
ethos, which became the paradigm for Renaissance musical thought
Two forces shaped the musical beliefs o f the era. The scholastics, their ideas held
over from the Middle Ages, believed that knowledge was finite and could be attained by
man. Music was viewed as audible number, reflecting God’s perfection and the order of
His universe. Renaissance theorists, influenced by scholastic thought, set about justifying
the elements of music and establishing rules for composition according to mathematical
ratios, doubting that happenstance or mere human creativity could achieve the musical
perfection they sought.
241
242
The humanists, by contrast, believed that knowledge was infinite and that
absolute knowledge could not be achieved by man. They placed as much faith in the
creativity of the artist as in the perfection of ratios. In both oratory and music, they also
put their trust in rhetoric’s power to manipulate the affections of their listeners.
Influenced by the poetry of Petrarch and the writings of Pietro Bembo, composers sought
to make their musical sounds reflect their texts. This desire for the proper union of music
and text reached its pinnacle in the sixteenth-century Italian madrigal.
The mannerists, those artists who sought to elicit emotion through their daring
artistic innovations, embodied the passage from the Renaissance ideal to that of the
Baroque. Gesualdo adopted as his own the style of the mannerists as it manifested itself
in the madrigal, not only drawing from the writings of others, but also influencing them
with his daring individual musical language. Gesualdo’s madrigal style, with its extremely
chromatic settings of fragmented, pathos-laden texts, is evident in his sacred works as
well.
The same concern for the appropriate musical setting of text was manifest in the
philosophies set forth by the scholars and artists who comprised the famed Florentine
Camerata. The beginning of the Baroque era was heralded by the advent of opera and
monody, new artistic innovations that were an outgrowth of their ideas. Although
Gesualdo never adopted the monodic style, his musical language corresponded to their
ideals of textual emphasis. In addition, the rhetorical devices that were codified during the
Baroque era and formed the basis of the Doctrines of Figures and Affections are clearly
243
evident in his sacred works. In his use of the tools of the modal system, Gesualdo
strained against the boundaries of a practice that was no longer adequate for his expressive
purposes. Modality finally began to give way at the turn of the seventeenth century as
Western music moved toward the adoption of the tonal system, a process that was
foreshadowed by Gesualdo in his extensive use of mitsica ficta, his frequent employment
of a chordally conceived homophonic texture, and his use of chordal successions that
emphasized the fourth and fifth degrees of the mode.

t
Historians have speculated that Gesualdo’s choice of text reveals his own neurotic
nature and the illness, both mental and physical, that plagued him. Evidence indicates that
Gesualdo’s murder of Donna Maria and her lover tortured him for the remainder of his
life. If conjecture regarding Gesualdo’s murder of a child is true, such an act would
certainly deepen his torment. A comparison of Gesualdo’s sacred texts with the painting
in S. Maria delle Grazie indicates a relationship between the sacred works and the
spiritual agony Gesualdo experienced during the last fifteen years of his life. The painting
depicts a sinner with a contrite heart pleading for the intercession of the saints and the
Virgin Mary as he prays to Christ for mercy. Documentary evidence regarding the events
in the last years of Gesualdo’s life describe a man who was both physically and mentally
troubled.
Gray and Heseltine provided their own analysis of the likeness of Gesualdo in the
painting, finding in him the traits often witnessed in royal families in which inbreeding has
weakened the family line.
244
It is not necessary to know anything of his life to detect in these long,

narrow, slanting eyes with their delicate but strongly marked eyebrows, in
the small puckered, and sensual mouth, aquiline nose, and slightly receding
forehead and chin, a character of the utmost perversity, cruelty and
vindictiveness. At the same time it is a weak rather than a strong face-
almost feminine, in fact Physically he is the very type of the degenerate
descendent of a long aristocratic line.1
Gesualdo seems to have spent much of his life practically overwhelmed by his
various obsessions. His view of himself appears to have combined the ego and narcissism
possible in the life of a prince with the self-loathing that made his constant punishment
and repentance necessary.
Gesualdo’s devotion to the Catholic Church is obvious. It is difficult to know,
however, if his many gifts to the Church, including these powerful sacred musical works,
are products of his own personal guilt or merely the action deemed necessary to assure
one’s liberation from Purgatory into the hands of God. It seems plausible that a man of
Gesualdo's wealth and station would be expected to make such offerings to the Church.
Still, personal torment is reflected in Gesualdo’s musical settings. After his return
from Ferrara, Gesualdo became reclusive, and a study of his and his wife’s
correspondence indicates that he was a deeply disturbed man. Although it is impossible
to know to what extent the turbulence of his life prompted Gesualdo’s choice of texts and
his settings of them, certainly one who endeavored to write music that conveyed emotion
would not, possibly could not, prevent his own deepening torment from being revealed
i Cecil Gray and Philip Heseltine, Carlo Gesualdo, Prince ofVenosa: Musician
and Murderer (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner, & Co., 1926; reprint, Westport,
CT: Greenwood Press, 1971), 42-43.
245
through his music. His emphasis on the concepts of sorrow and death mirror his
emotional state, and the parallel of the Sacrae cantiones with the commissioned painting
suggest a close correlation with Gesualdo’s personal misery and his sacred music. That he
chose to set the tenebrae responses further confirms this association. It seems likely that
the emotions expressed in the story of the passion o f Christ resonated with his own
feelings of sorrow and his obsession with death.
Yet, attributing Gesualdo’s compositional choices to his mental and spiritual
torment provides only a partial explanation. Gesualdo was musically a man of his times.
In his music can be found all the devices provided him by his predecessors and
contemporaries. Gesualdo first developed his more extreme style during his stay in the
court of Este in Ferrara, and both his musical style and his choice of texts reflect Ferrarese
innovations. The letters of Fontanelli to Duke Alfonso II describe Gesualdo in 1594 as a
happy man absorbed with his music. During the time that Gesualdo was affiliated with
the court of Este in Ferrara, he appeared to enjoy his music and hunting and was not seen
by those around him as a tortured individual. As a prince, he was free to pursue the
musical experimentation inspired by the musical influences in Ferrara without fear of
censorship by a dissatisfied patron.
Gesualdo’s choice of texts, while obviously reflecting his personal struggle, was
not unusual either. Rather it paralleled the choices made by his contemporaries, who
aspired to create a musical style that was perfectly suited to the portrayal of an
emotionally charged text Drawing their inspiration from the depiction of emotion from
246
the madrigal, composers of the late sixteenth century often preferred sacred texts that
could be set musically with the distorted expressiveness of the mannerist style.
Several devices combine to form Gesualdo’s musical language. The most obvious
feature of Gesualdo’s music is his extreme use of chromaticism created by his
employment of a chromatic motive inspired by the Greek chromatic genus and leading
tone and neighbor inflections as well as his preference for major triads moving by thirds.
Gesualdo also used cross relations and unusual intervals such as diminished fourths and
tritones. To increase the emotional intensity of his settings, Gesualdo used several devices
together or increased the number of voices involved. The layered use of these techniques
in his music emphasizes important concepts and symbolizes the underlying emotions of
his texts.
Two conclusions can be drawn from the above discussion. First, an examination of
Gesualdo’s music reveals the innovations of the time and place in which he lived and
wrote. His careful attention to the setting of text was based upon the same emphasis in
the works of many composers who had gone before him. Even his choice of texts echoes
not only those chosen by other composers, but also those that he selected for his
madrigals. His musical language, while more extreme than that of his contemporaries, was
indeed typical of his time.
Second, Gesualdo’s sacred music was clearly reflective of the composer’s own
personal torment In these works Gesualdo frequently elected to set texts depicting
247
sorrow and death, and it was these concepts he chose to emphasize musically, his
tortured mind and spirit reflected in the unusual twists and turns of his musical language.
While Gesualdo founded no school of composition, he was much more than a mere
historical aberration. He lived and worked at a critical juncture in the history of Western
music. His sacred works reflect the conflicts and passions of his own life as well as those
that characterize his era. Although his solution to the limitations imposed by the modal
system was not the one carried into the Baroque period, Gesualdo created settings for his
texts that remained unrivaled in emotional intensity until the late nineteenth and early
twentieth centuries.
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INFORMATION TO U SERS

The quality of this reproduction is dependent upon th e quality of the

Oversize materials (e.g., maps, drawings, charts) are reproduced by

Photographs included in the original manuscript have been reproduced

Bell & Howell Information and Learning

IN THE SACRED WORKS OF CARLO GESUALDO

the Committee on Advanced Studies

of the School of Church Music

Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary

Fort Worth, Texas

of the Requirements for the Degree

Barbara Rogers Davis

© Copyright by Barbara Rogers Davis 2000

All rights reserved.

Bell & Howell Information and Learning Company

IN THE SACRED WORKS OF CARLO GESUALDO

The Committee on Advanced Studies

of the School of Church Music

Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary

Fort Worth, Texas

/y Committee on Advanced Studies

ool of Church Music

IN THE SACRED WORKS OF CARLO GESUALDO

the Committee on Advanced Studies

of the School of Church Music

Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary

Fort Worth, Texas

of the Requirements for the Degree

Barbara Rogers Davis

© Copyright by Barbara Rogers Davis 2000

reminiscaris Domine, published in 1585, and Salmi delle compiete, published

Gesualdo’s compositions constitute a significant portion of the music of the

evaluation of Gesualdo’s sacred music, including Gesualdo’s biography, an overview of

triads in a context rooted in the practices of sixteenth-century counterpoint A final

of sorrow and death.

LIST OF FIGURES .............................................................................................. ix

LIST OF TABLES ................................................................................................ xv

1. THE LIFE OF GESUALDO.................................................................. 4

Prince and Murderer

The Last Years

Humanism vs. Scholasticism

The Church in Renaissance Thought

Musical Thought in the Italian Renaissance

The Expansion of Musical Space

Consonance and Dissonance

3. CHROMATICISM AND MANNERISM IN THE

Chromaticism and the Transformation of the Modal System

4. THE SACRAE CANTIONES....................................................

Cantus Firmus Treatment

5. RESPONSORIA FOR HOLY W EEK........................

Cantus Firmus Treatment

6. GESUALDO’S MUSICAL RHETORIC AND THE

Music and Emotion

Music and Symbolism

Music and Rhetoric

Themes of Sorrow and Death

1. Moro, lasso, mm 1-3.................................................................................. 83

2. Moro,lasso, mm. 3-10 ................................................................................ 84

3. Moro,lasso, mm. 10-15 .............................................................................. 85

4. Moro,lasso, mm. 36-42 .............................................................................. 86

5. Domine, ne despicias, mm. 21-47 ................................................................ 98

6. Ave, dulcissima Maria, mm. 1 -9 ................................................................. 99

7. Veni Creator spiritus, mm. 1 -1 0 .................................................................. 100