Hearing Counterpoint Within Chromaticism: Analyzing Harmonic Relationships in Lassus’s Prophetiae Sibyllarum

Timothy K. Chenette

KEYWORDS: Orlandus Lassus (Orlando di Lasso), Prophetiae Sibyllarum, chromaticism, counterpoint, Zarlino, Vicentino, diatonicism, diatonic system, mode, analysis

ABSTRACT: Existing analyses of the Prophetiae Sibyllarum generally compare the musical surface to an underlying key, mode, or diatonic system. In contrast, this article asserts that we must value surface relationships in and of themselves, and that certain rules of counterpoint can help us to understand these relationships. Analyses of the Prologue and Sibylla Persica demonstrate some of the insights available to a contrapuntal perspective, including the realization that surprising-sounding music does not always correlate with large numbers of written accidentals. An analysis of Sibylla Europaea suggests some of the ways diatonic and surface-relationship modes of hearing may interact, and highlights the features that may draw a listener’s attention to one of these modes of hearing or the other.

Introduction

[1.1] Orlandus Lassus’s cycle Prophetiae Sibyllarum (1550s) is simultaneously familiar and unsettling to the modern listener.⁽¹⁾ The Prologue epitomizes its challenges; see Score and Recording 1.⁽²⁾ It uses apparent triads, but their roots range so widely that it is difficult to hear them as symbols of an incipient tonality. The piece’s three cadences confirm, in textbook style, Mode 8,⁽³⁾ but its accidentals complicate a modal designation based on the diatonic octave species. The individual melodic lines in the opening phrase are awkward, often avoiding parallel fifths and octaves only through large leaps, but at the same time it is difficult not to hear in them a sense of coordination and, perhaps, even progression. What principles underlie this odd Prologue, and the Prophetiae Sibyllarum as a whole? How might we understand this chromaticism? Are different techniques used in different locations, or does the cycle represent simply a long wash of consistently strange music? Finally, a seemingly necessary question that I will soon argue we must put aside—what key/mode/diatonic system is it “in”?

[1.2] To address these challenges, some of the first published analyses of Prophetiae Sibyllarum took extreme positions, emphasizing either randomness or absolute order.⁽⁴⁾ After describing the opening of the Prologue, Edward Lowinsky declared, “From the F major chord in measure seven, the harmonic progression might just as well switch to F major, B-flat major, D major or D minor, or E-flat major—it would make little difference,” and he called its apparent randomness “triadic atonality” (1961, 39). A decade later, in contrast, William Mitchell refuted Lowinsky with a Schenkerian sketch to demonstrate that “stressing linear and broad structural values” could, in fact, clearly establish “G major, minor, or Mixolydian” (1970, 266). While Lowinsky and Mitchell disagreed in fundamental ways, they both examined the piece’s relationship to a diatonic norm (here, a key), and this has been the focus for later scholars as well.

[1.3] Most theorists of the late sixteenth century did display a distinct preference for diatonicism.⁽⁵⁾ But two problems arise for modern scholars who wish to apply this preference in their analyses. First, it is difficult to distinguish between various usages of the term “mode,” as a set of learned Classical associations, as a means of referring to basic diatonic collections, or as a post-compositional classification scheme.⁽⁶⁾ Perhaps more important, modern labels such as “atonal” and “G major” tend to be applied to an entire piece or large section of a piece, rather than to notes, sonorities, or sonority-to-sonority relationships.

[1.4] In contrast, this article will model the listening process more directly by describing Lassus’s use of counterpoint. It is certainly possible for a listener to hear a surprising sonority’s relationship to an underlying diatonic system, but counterpoint describes those elements most immediately perceptible to the listener: the surface-level relationships between tones.⁽⁷⁾ As surface complexity rises—as more accidentals are added and as they change more quickly—a diatonic system becomes more and more difficult to extract from the musical surface. Thus, when describing how one might hear the many surprising moments of this piece, it makes sense to describe them with the language of surface relationships.

[1.5] Several scholars do allow for some degree of local change in their diatonic analyses. Karol Berger (1980, 489–90) quotes from Nicola Vicentino’s discussion of the “mixing” of modes to suggest that a piece may instantiate a hierarchy of modes.⁽⁸⁾ Berger represents these modes as triads and labels them with Roman numerals. William Lake (1991) also uses Roman numerals, but analyzes triads on multiple “key levels” to show that the Prologue “modulates” through descending-fifth progressions and a few stereotyped chromatic progressions.⁽⁹⁾ Kyle Adams (2006 and 2009) analyzes underlying diatonic systems to demonstrate that chromaticism from the late sixteenth to the early eighteenth centuries could serve different functions. His analysis of the Prologue uses a technique of “diatonic reduction” to show the different ways diatonic systems interact within the piece.⁽¹⁰⁾

[1.6] The analyses of Berger, Lake, and Adams certainly reflect closely the changeable surface of the Prologue. But even these assume that the listener can extract or intuit an underlying diatonic system at all times. In such a chromatic piece, this may not be a safe assumption. In addition, though their flexibility gives them descriptive and explanatory power, their attention is not always primarily on the surface-level relationships most directly available to listeners.

[1.7] Several scholars have presented an alternative path, suggesting that surface-level relationships can be the primary objects of our analytical/theoretical attention. Haar (1977) investigates “aspects of sixteenth-century chromaticism apparent on the surface of the music, without attempting generalizations on the larger tonal significance of the phenomena described” (391). Haar gives extensive examples to demonstrate several common ways that sixteenth-century composers introduced accidentals, many of which will be central to my analysis.⁽¹¹⁾ Bent (1984) re-centers our attention on contemporary music theory, pointing out that modern definitions of chromaticism do not line up neatly with those of the sixteenth century, many of which were based on successive melodic intervals rather than dissonance against an underlying diatonic system.⁽¹²⁾

[1.8] Building on the work of Haar and Bent, my thesis is that studying counterpoint, rather than mode (or some other representation of the diatonic system), helps us to better understand the musical surface of sixteenth-century compositions, particularly those that are relatively chromatic. Nevertheless, there are significant differences between their work and mine. Whereas Bent (1984) is concerned with recovering historical concepts, and Haar’s (1977) purpose is partially classificatory and stylistic, I focus on the analysis of individual works. I will show that surface-level analysis can not only reveal inter-opus stylistic connections, but also contribute to a deep understanding of a piece. To facilitate analysis under this premise, I will describe two tools: one for identifying harmonic and nonharmonic relations, and one for classifying sonority-to-sonority relationships in terms of diatonic relations.

[1.9] In the following analytical sections, I will apply these tools in analyses of three pieces from the Prophetiae Sibyllarum: the Prologue, Sibylla Persica, and Sibylla Europaea. In the Prologue, I will demonstrate that paying attention to counterpoint uncovers an important connection between the initial phrases of the piece, as well as differences between these and the last phrase. In Sibylla Persica, I will show how transgressive counterpoint can help mark important ideas in the text and create recurring harmonic structures throughout the cycle. In Sibylla Europaea, I will show some of the ways that extremely localized, contrapuntal strategies of hearing might interact with strategies that privilege underlying diatonic systems and pitch centers, and I will describe the musical elements that are likely to encourage one type of listening over the other.

Terms

[2.1] The continuous use of musical terms over time despite significant changes in style may create confusion in the study of early music theory. This section will briefly discuss the terms accidental, chromatic, chromaticism, chromatic half-step, and diatonicism, and thereby sketch an approach to counterpoint and tonal relationships situated in a dialogue between modern and sixteenth-century ideas.

[2.2] Most terms in the discussions below are used in ways that would be familiar to both sixteenth- and twenty-first-century readers. The word “accidental” is very similar in sixteenth-century and modern usage. Adams demonstrates that the range of meanings for the terms “chromatic” and “chromaticism” was rather large in sixteenth-century theory: my discussion will use what Adams calls the “absolute” conception, in which “the chromatic genus consists of the use of certain pitch-classes not found in the diatonic genus” (2007, 16). Adams attributes this conception to Zarlino and others.⁽¹³⁾ I will use the term “chromatic half-step” for two pitches a semitone apart on the same letter name (littera).

[2.3] The term “diatonic,” on the other hand, will be separated from its association with the diatonic division of the tetrachord and used to refer to any pitch collection that can be modeled by a modern key signature. This modern concept of diatonic collections is implicit in Zarlino’s description of “two kinds of melody” (“due sorti di cantilena”) (Zarlino 1999 [1561], 198), one using the pitches of the natural and hard hexachords, and one using those of the natural and soft hexachords. The latter is indicated at the beginning of a part with a B-flat (Zarlino 1976 [1558], 49), much like a key signature.

[2.4] Musicians of the sixteenth century used the terminology and concepts of counterpoint as their primary mode of conceiving the relationships between tones. Letting their language and rules color the ways we think about and hear these relationships furthers a goal set forth by Bent, to “set about recovering, to the greatest extent possible, the work’s own grammatical sense, in terms proper to it” (1998, 16).⁽¹⁴⁾ Thus the words “harmonic relationships” in this article’s title are not intended to evoke functional harmony in the modern sense, but rather something like Bent’s “grammatical sense”—a way of hearing logical progression and disjunction in the succession of sonorities.

Analytical Distinctions and Tools

[3.1] In this section, I will develop two ways of classifying relationships between sonorities that focus on surface-level phenomena. I will first describe a rule shared by multiple late-sixteenth-century theorists: the prohibition of nonharmonic relations between tones of successive sonorities. Second, I will suggest how diatonic systems can help us understand relationships over spans of several sonorities, even in heavily chromatic music. These two perspectives overlap in many ways, but conflict in others: their relationships will be explored in my final analysis.

[3.2] One technical distinction that can help classify relationships between successive sonorities is that between harmonic and nonharmonic relations, described by Gioseffo Zarlino in Le istitutioni harmoniche (1558):

When we say that the parts of a composition do not have a harmonic relation between their voices, we mean that the parts are separated by an augmented or diminished diapason [octave], or by a semidiapente [diminished fifth] or tritone [augmented fourth] or similar interval. The harmonic relation does not involve merely two simultaneous notes distant in pitch. It occurs rather among four notes contained in two voices that form two consonances. (Zarlino 1976 [1558], 65)

[3.3] Much later in Le Istitutioni harmoniche, Zarlino explicitly says that the diminished fifth and tritone inherent in the diatonic system should be corrected with accidentals:⁽¹⁵⁾

Through the aid of chromatic steps we may achieve good, sonorous harmonies and escape poor relationships in the diatonic, such as the tritone, semidiapente, and similar intervals that result from simultaneous singing, as I have shown already. Without the chromatic, many harsh harmonies and awkward lines would be heard. Although the poor relationships could be avoided with only the diatonic steps, it would be rather more difficult to do so, particularly while seeking, as one should, to vary the harmony. It follows that the use of the steps mentioned will render the modes sweeter and smoother (Zarlino 1976 [1558], 281).⁽¹⁶⁾

[3.4] Though Zarlino’s prohibition of nonharmonic relations derives from a portion of the treatise dealing only with two-voice counterpoint, any pair of pitches from within larger textures can be similarly chosen. Effectively, tritones and diminished fifths are banned between any note of a given sonority and any note of the following sonority.⁽¹⁷⁾

[3.5] Even Vicentino, famous for allowing most any musical relationship if it is called for by the text, seems to agree that accidentals are often necessary to improve relationships between sonorities. There are, however, a few important distinctions from Zarlino’s formulation. First, he phrases his guideline as advice rather than as a rule. Second, and perhaps more important, he phrases it positively rather than negatively: that is, rather than prohibiting nonharmonic relations, he instead suggests the use of a harmonic relation before an otherwise strange note to make it easier to sing:

To help the consonances, it is often necessary to assist them with a natural, flat, or sharp in order to make minor consonances major and vice versa, and to make fifths perfect. So that these inflections will not seem strange to the ear, it is a good idea for composers, before sounding the pitch with the flat or the natural, to write above or below it a note that corresponds to the fifth or the fourth of the antecedent note (Vicentino 1996 [1555], 252).

[3.6] Judging from Vicentino and Zarlino’s testimony, we can hypothesize that successions with harmonic relations (and especially perfect fourths or fifths) might be heard—and intended by their composer—to be different in some way from those with nonharmonic relations. Specifically, we might assume that nonharmonic relations should be heard as in some way rougher, more awkward, or even more difficult. Harmonic relations, on the other hand, might be heard as more smooth.

[3.7] Though Zarlino admits that this rule may be impossible to follow in pieces with many parts (67), and many of Zarlino’s own pieces and musical examples certainly seem to ignore it, there are also polyphonic pieces that clearly follow the principle. Example 1 is a transcription of the beginning of Zarlino’s motet Pater noster/Ave Maria. This piece alternates many times between E and E . Nearly every occurrence of this scale step is adjacent to a sonority containing either B or A , and, each time, a tritone/semidiapente is avoided.⁽¹⁸⁾ Continuous lines in the example mark perfect fourths and fifths involving the notes E and E . A dashed line marks the only imperfect fifth—even here, the two pitches comprising the diminished 5th, E and A, are separated by the space of a transcribed quarter note.

[3.8] The preference for such “contrapuntally smooth” relationships between successive sonorities, despite the fact that they transgress diatonic boundaries, will be crucial to my analysis. But two caveats are in order: first, Zarlino never takes this idea as far as I will; second, it is unlikely that Lassus had this “rule” in mind as he composed. What Zarlino has described here is a way that counterpoint can sound smooth despite (or even because of) going beyond the bounds of a diatonic system, and we will see that this kind of smoothness applies to the vast majority of the Prologue to the Prophetiae Sibyllarum.

[3.9] My second analytical focus is, after all, on diatonic relationships. It is hard to imagine that sixteenth-century musicians would not have brought a diatonic bias to their listening and composing. The notation system is inherently diatonic, most theorists (even, to some extent, Vicentino) showed a bias towards describing diatonic relationships, and many contemporary pieces were written almost completely without accidentals. But in music that is highly chromatic, it is often difficult to locate diatonic boundaries, and it is sometimes difficult to maintain that an “underlying” diatonic system has any meaningful relationship to individual sonorities or progressions with many accidentals.⁽¹⁹⁾

[3.10] Instead, I will describe potential diatonic relationships among successive sonorities. If two adjacent sonorities share a diatonic system, I will call them “diatonically related.”⁽²⁰⁾ If a string of sonorities share a diatonic system, I will consider them “diatonically related as a whole.” If a string of sonorities is such that the entire passage does not share a diatonic system, but any given subgroup of a certain fixed number of successive sonorities within the passage is diatonically related, I will consider the larger passage “diatonically related in x-sonority groups,” where “x” is the length of the subgroup (see Example 2, from Lassus’s Prologue).⁽²¹⁾

[3.11] Focusing on these elements—harmonic and nonharmonic relations and diatonic relationships among successive sonorities—cannot, of course, clearly tell us how a sixteenth-century musician would have heard a given passage. Nevertheless, they can give us a starting point for understanding surface-level relationships, and they can suggest certain affective or rhetorical qualities that might be intended. A nonharmonic relation might sound “rough,” harmonic relations might seem “smooth,” and a pair of sonorities that are not diatonically related will probably sound surprising, while a string of sonorities with a high degree of diatonic relatedness might sound less jarring.

Analysis I: Prologue

[4.1] The text of the Prologue is as follows:⁽²²⁾

[4.2] To understand Lassus’s contrapuntal priorities, it will be instructive to compare a passage from the Prologue to the Prophetiae Sibyllarum with a hypothetical, diatonic version of the same passage. Example 3a is the phrase “Haec sunt illa” (measures 9–12) of the Prologue, presented for ease of examination on two staves. Example 3b is the same passage with accidentals removed: a version that might have prevailed if the composer had been more concerned with diatonic purity.

[4.3] The sonorities and their relationships in Example 3b are nearly all contrapuntally acceptable according to the rules described above, with two main problems. First, the cycle evinces a clear preference for major thirds above the bass, and in this diatonic version of the passage, nearly all the thirds are minor. Second, there is a tritone between the F in the penultimate sonority and the B in the final sonority. This relation is certainly possible, but Zarlino’s prohibition of nonharmonic relations suggests that one might hear this as somewhat jarring, particularly since the B is in an outer voice.⁽²³⁾

[4.4] One possible “correction” to this nonharmonic relation would add a flat to the B, as in Example 3c. This, however, would violate Lassus’s clear preference for major thirds above the bass. In addition, this passage’s text comprises a complete restrictive clause, followed by the only internal bassus rest in the piece, an articulation that may be strong enough to require a major third on its final sonority: “When a composer requires repose on a consonance in the middle of a composition, it is infinitely better to stop on a major than on a minor third” (Vicentino 1996 [1555], 253).

[4.5] Instead, perhaps one should add a sharp to the F. But this would set off a chain reaction of nonharmonic relations, as in Example 3d: an F on the transcribed downbeat of measure 12 would necessitate a C in the preceding sonority, to avoid a tritone; which in turn would necessitate a G in the sonority before that; which would necessitate a G in the initial sonority; which would necessitate C s in tenor and bassus in that same sonority. According to Zarlino’s concern for harmonic relationships, Example 3d has the potential to sound “contrapuntally smooth,” but notationally, it is far beyond what one would usually expect from sixteenth-century polyphony. Note that this example matches Lassus’s setting precisely (Example 3a), except for Lassus’s cross-relation between G and G in measure 10.⁽²⁴⁾

[4.6] In fact, this cross-relation is the only contrapuntal infraction of Lassus’s music as written, despite its use of many accidentals. The cross-relation clearly recalls the similar ascending chromatic half-step in the famous opening of the Prologue (measures 2–3, discussed below), and suggests that the device will be emblematic of this particular piece. After the cross-relation, the remainder of the passage consists of what we might call a descending-fifths progression, leading into the repose at the end of measure 12.⁽²⁵⁾

[4.7] This passage is thus an example of mostly “good” counterpoint. With the exception of the cross-relation in measure 10, every succession of sonorities has a harmonic relation. In addition, Lassus has generally made the accidentals easier to sing by following Vicentino’s advice: “So that these inflections will not seem strange to the ear, it is a good idea for composers, before sounding the pitch with the flat or the natural, to write above or below it a note that corresponds to the fifth or the fourth of the antecedent note” (Vicentino 1996 [1555], 252). Significantly, though the descending-fifths progression is not diatonically related as a whole, it is diatonically related in three-sonority groups.⁽²⁶⁾ That is, the sonorities above bass notes E, A, and D could share the three-sharp diatonic system, while the sonorities above bass notes A, D, and G could share the two-sharp diatonic system. All of these factors—a lack of nonharmonic relations, preceding accidentals with their fourths or fifths, and a high degree of diatonic relatedness within the progression—suggest that this passage may sound relatively smooth.

[4.8] One final time, it is instructive to compare the music as written (Example 3a) with the purely diatonic version of Example 3b. Example 3b has a nonharmonic relation at the cadence; Example 3a has a nonharmonic relation at the beginning of the phrase, and leads into the cadence with smooth counterpoint. In Example 3b, minor thirds above the bass predominate; in Example 3a, major thirds predominate. Contrapuntally, there is no reason to prefer Example 3b over the music as written. In fact, the latter might even be better, both because of the preference for major thirds, and because contrapuntal infractions may be more appropriate to the beginning of a phrase than to the end. Vicentino allows foreign modes to be introduced, “provided you approach the final part elegantly, by starting in good time and moving gradually and surely toward the pitches and location of the tone or mode” (see Appendix 1 and Vicentino 1996 [1555], 246).

[4.9] The following phrase, “quibus nostrae olim arcana salutis” (measures 13–18, transcribed in Example 4), follows a similar pattern: a nonharmonic relation is followed by a descending-fifths progression.⁽²⁷⁾ Each part of the phrase is, however, altered slightly. The nonharmonic relation is different: rather than the single cross-relation of measure 10, here there is a tritone and a diminished fifth between the sonority that ends measure 13 and the sonority that begins measure 14. The descending-fifths progression, in turn, is much longer, more complex, and includes a precadential decoration in measure 17.⁽²⁸⁾

[4.10] The consistency of these two middle sub-phrases (Examples 3a and 4), which together set the second of the Prologue’s three lines of text, has ramifications both for our formal expectations as we turn to the rest of the piece, and for our understanding of the relationship between counterpoint and diatonicism. While the progressions that break contrapuntal rules do require new and surprising accidentals, so do the chains of descending fifths, and the chains of descending fifths follow Zarlino’s rules of good counterpoint. Thus, as strange as these phrases may be, their specific character comes not from the random use of accidentals, but rather from a careful combination of contrapuntal infractions followed by good counterpoint. As it turns out, the first phrase follows a similar model, but the contrapuntal infraction at the beginning of the phrase is derived from the text.

[4.12] Discussion of the first phrase of the Prologue has dominated much of the theoretical literature, but, again, it consists largely of smooth counterpoint (see Example 5). Here, the primary contrapuntal infraction is the D-D chromatic half step between measures 2–3 in the top voice. Many contemporary theorists explicitly allow irregularities over colorful words such as “chromatico.”⁽²⁹⁾ From this point until the cadential formula of measure 8, every two-sonority group is diatonically related, and nearly every accidental is preceded in some voice by a note a perfect fourth or fifth away. In fact, measures 3–5 are diatonic as a whole, and a descending-fifths progression follows in measures 6–7.⁽³⁰⁾

[4.13] While the shock of measure 3’s D has been much remarked upon, it is only one of two particularly surprising parts of the piece.⁽³¹⁾ This D announces that the piece will be highly chromatic, and inspires the contrapuntal infractions that underlie the next two sub-phrases. The final phrase (Example 6), in turn, moves far beyond the expectations set up by the preceding phrases. While the earlier parts of the piece feature phrases with a contrapuntal infraction followed by smooth counterpoint with diatonically related subgroups, the final phrase achieves a new level of chromatic counterpoint.

[4.14] Measure 20 mixes B and B in close proximity, but in ways consistent with Zarlino’s contrapuntal rules, avoiding potential tritones as annotated in Example 6: B in the first sonority requires F in the second, and E in the third sonority requires B in the fourth. But if the means are similar to those used in previous phrases, respecting harmonic relations between sonorities, the speed of pitch change here renders this progression more shocking.

[4.15] Stranger still are the identical voice-leading motions into measures 19 and 21. In each, a raised note in the altus on the transcribed downbeat results in both a tritone and a chromatic half-step with the previous sonority. Each raised note renders its sonority’s third major—again, Lassus’s preference—but each also appears calculated to surprise, especially within the accelerated harmonic rhythm. Neither is obviously designed to depict the word it accompanies (“senae”/“six” and “cecinerunt”/“sang”), but they suggest a certain wildness appropriate to the fearless or wild mouths (“intrepido ore”) of the Sibylls mentioned elsewhere in this line.

[4.16] Like the other phrases, this one appears destined to end with a descending-fifths chain, beginning with the first sonority of measure 21. Indeed, this chain is similar to those that precede it, but it is significantly faster, and the final sonority of the measure is suddenly followed by another sonority with a bass only a step below. In addition, Lassus seems to have considered the major third in the sonority beginning measure 22 important, and therefore the final sonority of measure 21 must have a minor third to avoid the nonharmonic relation between B and F. Thus, in contrast to preceding phrases, this descending-fifths progression ends on a sonority with a minor third t