Numerous changes had taken place in musical style up to the time of Palestrina's appearance. When the rude forms of discant and organum, practiced by Hucbald and Guido of Arezzo, had been abandoned in consequence of the invention of counterpoint, the composers of the time, following the course of development already indicated, struck out in an entirely new art-form, called fugue. There were two kinds of fugue,—the free or unlimited, and the strict or limited. Both kinds still exist, but not under the same names. The former is now called real fugue, to distinguish it from modern deviations from the classical model. The latter kind we now call canon.
In earlier times the polyphonic styles, as well as the secular and ecclesiastic, had each enjoyed a separate existence and undergone a separate development; but the work of the Flemish masters did much to counteract these natural tendencies, and to bring, as it were, all musical grist to one mill. These writers not only made use of secular tunes, in order, as they thought, to give more variety to their music, but they often gave these tunes undue prominence, and thus rendered impossible a really artistic performance. We meet with innumerable masses based on secular themes, such as the first line of a well-known romance. "L'homme armé," for instance, a very popular song of the period, was thus used. It would be wrong, however, to attribute any irreverence to these composers. They were merely following the promptings of laudable and genuine artistic feelings, in employing that which should readily appeal to the musical sense of their listeners. Nor are we without examples of similar practices in other arts. In the works of the old Flemish painters, for instance, not only do we see anachronisms in their "Nativities," their "Marriages at Cana" or their "Festivals of Simon of Bethany," but the scene is laid in some well known inn; we find in the background a faithful copy of kitchen utensils of every description; and through an open door we descry the familiar face of a tradesman, or the portrait of the stout and coarse-looking innkeeper. It was a sign of the times, and no one dreamed of censuring the artist who thus worked. Those great painters threw on their canvas what they saw in every day life, never thinking that it should be otherwise; and the composers did likewise in their art. They used in an elaborate way the melodies most frequently heard; but in the course of time this manner of writing had disgraceful consequences. Musical degeneracy became so great and so general that it could only be termed musical debauchery. It was against absurdities such as these that the Council of Trent protested.
Pope Pius IV., having made thorough investigation, came to the conclusion that the style of music generally cultivated was open to serious objections. It was in 1564 that he convened a commission of cardinals to consider the evil and to prescribe a remedy. This commission was inclined to banish from the church all music except unisons and unaccompanied plain chant; but it was decided, before issuing such a far-reaching decree, to canvass the possibilities of introducing "modern" music which should be free from frivolity. After much deliberation, they commissioned Palestrina to write a mass in the purest attainable church style. The result of their bidding was the composition of the Missa Papæ Marcelli. The success of this remarkable work far exceeded the high expectations that it had aroused. The Pope himself was present at the first performance in the Sistine Chapel, June 19, 1565. So moved was he by the work that, on leaving the church, he exclaimed: "This certainly must have been the harmony of the New Song which the apostle John heard sung in the heavenly Jerusalem, and of which this other John (Palestrina) has given us a foretaste in the Jerusalem on earth." And so it was formally determined that this mass should stand as a model for all church music thereafter to be composed.
GUIDONIAN HAND.
This composition by Palestrina, as well as very many others, not only displays a complete mastery of counterpoint and vocal style, but also deep religious feeling and a rare ability in writing for the human voice. The sterling value of his works cannot be overestimated. Their influence upon later periods has been immeasurable. Indeed, we may say without exaggeration, that never in art has such a mighty change taken place as that caused by the immortal Palestrina's reformatory efforts.
The earlier contrapuntists collected, stone by stone, the materials which served their successors as foundations for further work. Ockeghem was the first to use these fragments in a symmetrical way and to bequeath a systematic style of music-writing to his followers. Among these was Josquin des Près, who attempted to vivify and to infuse blood into the hitherto lifeless counterpoint. But although his success was considerable, it was reserved for Palestrina to free his art from fetters, and to bestow upon it, as far as was possible, individuality. The most noteworthy of Palestrina's Roman contemporaries were Vittoria, Giovanni Maria and Bernar Nannini, Felice and Francesco Anerio, and the famous composer of madrigals Luca Marenzio. But other cities of Italy had also their schools, all, however, more or less under the influence of Palestrina. The most prominent was the Venetian school, founded by Adrian Willaert.
Adrian Willaert, born at Bruges in Flanders, in the year 1490, is said to have been a pupil of Jean Mouton, possibly also of Josquin des Près himself. He first studied law at the university of Paris, which, however, he soon abandoned for music. As a young man of twenty-six he had already made a name in his own country with his compositions. It seems, however, that he was not successful in obtaining a position in Rome; he went, therefore, to try his fortune in Venice. He succeeded so well there that in 1527 he had already obtained the position of chapel-master in the church of St. Mark. Under Willaert's direction the music at St. Mark's became famous, and the office of chapel-master at that church reached a high point of eminence; and thence until the eighteenth century the place was occupied only by masters of the first rank. Willaert's influence as a composer and as a teacher of musical art and science was great and beneficial. He was the founder of the Venetian school of music from which sprang so many distinguished composers, theorists and singers. He was the first to introduce the double chorus in the antiphonal form. Up to his death (1562) he kept his position at St. Mark's. He was a pioneer in the broadest sense, for though his style was founded on that of Josquin and his disciples, he began almost where they left off. Willaert's introduction of double choruses in combination, at church service, led afterward to a style of music which his followers developed to its utmost limits, and which resulted in such monstrosities as masses for forty-eight voices. They, of course, were no more than cold, mathematical calculations, barren of intrinsic musical value.
Willaert, with his countrymen Arcadelt and Verdelot, was also the founder or promoter of the madrigal, as a highly refined style of music. Hitherto it had been a kind of wild-flower, a simple pastoral. But now it assumed more importance. The so-called "sacred madrigal" was an offshoot of this new style, and does not differ essentially from contemporary motets. At a later period the comic madrigal came into vogue, through Vecchi and others; and finally, the madrigal was introduced on the dramatic stage in the earliest beginnings of opera, and gave rise to the modern opera chorus. The most celebrated of Willaert's pupils were Cyprian de Rore, also Flemish by birth, Zarlino, the great theorist, Costanzo Porta, Nicolo Vincento (or Vincentino) and Delia Viola.