Part 19

XXVII. I now say, this diminution of figures, instead of perfectioning music, entirely spoils and ruins it; for two reasons: the first is, that it will be very difficult to find a person, who either with the voice, or an instrument, is capable of executing points of such velocity. The before-cited father Kircher, says, that having made some compositions which were out of the common track, and of difficult execution, (though I believe they were not so difficult as those which are now the fashion) he could not find in all Rome, a singer capable of performing them. How then can you expect to find in every province, and in every cathedral, instrumental performers and singers, who, in exact time, and with the due intonation, are capable of executing these exceeding minute figures; and to this difficulty, we may likewise add, that of the many extravagant flights and jumps, which at present are the fashion also. To articulate such a solfa, requires a throat of prodigious volubility; and to express such music on an instrument, demands admirable agility, and dexterity of hand; and, therefore, such compositions are only fit for one or two very singular executionists, which may be found in this or that particular court; but they should not be printed for the use of the world at large; for the same singer, who, with a natural and easy solfa, would give pleasure to the hearers, would, by attempting these difficult passages, distract them; and from the same hand, by which a sonata, of easy execution, would sound delightsome and sweet, one of arduous difficulty would sound like the talking of gibberish.

XXIV. The second reason why this diminution of figures destroys music, is because it does not give space for the ear to perceive melody. As the delight the eye receives by a well-disposed variety of colours, could not be attained, if each was to pass the sight with so quick a motion, that it could scarce make a distinct impression on the organ, and it is the same with all sorts of visible objects; just so, if the points into which music is divided are of so short a duration, as to be incapable of acting distinctly on the ear, this organ, would not perceive harmony but confusion. Further, this second inconvenience, like the rest, is increased by the abuse, which, in their practice is committed by instrumental performers; who, although they are but slow or indifferent hands, generally make ostentation of playing with great velocity; and commonly strive to execute the sonata, with more rapidity than the composer intended, or than the character of the music requires. From whence it follows, that by a defect in the most essential part of the execution, which is precision and exactness, the music loses its true and proper genius; and the by-standers hear nothing but a confused clatter. Let every one then pursue the mode, which is suitable to his talents and abilities; for if he, who is heavy and slow of foot, endeavours to run as fast as him who is light and nimble, his whole career will be nothing but stumbles: and if he, who can only run, attempts to fly, he will soon fall, and dash himself to pieces.

XXIX. The second distinction between antient and modern music, consists in the frequency and excess of transitions in this last, from the diatonic to the chromatic and enharmonic stile; and in often changing the tones, by the introduction of sostenutos and B flats. This, as I observed before, has a good effect, if it is done with moderation and opportunely. But the Italians of this day, run to such an extravagant excess with these transitions, that they force harmony off its hinges. Whoever has any difficulty of believing this, let him, free from prejudice or partiality, consult his own ears, whenever he hears any of those sonatas or chants performed which abound much in accidentals.

XXX. The third distinction consists in the liberty which composers at present take, of mixing in their music, all sorts of modulations that occur to them; without confining themselves, either to imitation or theme. The pleasure perceived by this music, which I will take the liberty of calling loose and dishevelled, is vastly inferior to the enjoyment afforded by that beautiful regularity and contrivance, with which the masters of the last age, introduced a pleasing variety into a passage; and especially, when the music was calculated for four voices. Strangers are sensible of the high value of such compositions; nor are excellent ones of this species wanting in other countries; but composers in general, avoid writing in this stile, because the doing it well, demands more labour and study, than they are commonly disposed to take; so that if now and then they introduce, and begin pursuing a passage, they quickly leave it, and give a loose to their fancy, letting it run where it lifts. Strangers, who come to Spain, are for the most part mere executionists, and therefore not capable of forming this kind of music; because it requires more scientific knowledge, than they are generally masters of; and therefore, to conceal that they are deficient in point of ability, they endeavour to persuade people, the method of pursuing passages is out of fashion.

SECT. VIII.

XXXI. This is the species of music, with which the Italians, by the hand of their beloved master Duron, have regaled us; for he was the man, who first introduced foreign modes into the music of Spain. It is true, that since his time, these modes have been so refined, that if Duron could now rise from his grave, he would not know them; but still, the blame of all these novelties is imputable to him, for he was the first who opened the door for their introduction. Virgil’s description of the winds, may be applied to the airs of the Italian music.

_Qua data porta ruunt, & terras turbine perflant._

With regard to the science of music, we see verified in the Spaniards, with respect to the Italians, that easy condescension in admitting novelties, which Pliny lamented in the Italians themselves, with respect to the Greeks: _Mutatur quotidie ars interpolis, & ingeniorum Græciæ flatu impellimur._

XXXII. With all this, we are not without able composers in Spain, who have not totally fallen in with the fashion, or who jointly, with conforming to it, and judiciously combining the antient and modern together, have wrote some valuable and delectable pieces of grammatical music; in which, the sweetness and majesty of the old compositions has been preserved. Speaking of this, brings afresh to my memory, the savoury and luxuriant Literes; and I can’t help mentioning him a second time, for he is a composer truly original. A character of elevated sweetness, which is proper and natural to him, is resplendent in all his works, and which never forsakes him, even when he sets words to music, on amorous or profane subjects: so that even in songs of love, or comic gallantry, he preserves a kind of sublimity, which can only touch, or be felt by the superior part of the soul; this he manages with such address, that he awakes tenderness, and at the same time lulls lust to sleep. I would have this composer always employed in writing for sacred subjects: because the genius of his compositions, is better calculated to inspire celestial affections, than to foment earthly amours. If some of his music, is less impregnated with that tumultuous air and clatter, for which the works of many other authors are admired: it, for that very reason, is, in my opinion, better calculated for the use of churches; because music in them, demands a serious gravity, which should sweetly calm the mind; and not a puerile flightiness, which would excite to dance with castanets. Compositions of the last kind are very easy, and are therefore made by many; those of the first sort are difficult, and therefore but few attempt them.

SECT. IX.

XXXIII. What we have hitherto said of the irregularity and disorders of church music, does not extend to chants in the vulgar tongue only, but to psalms, masses, lamentations, and other parts of divine service, because the modes in fashion, have been introduced into them all. I have, in printed lamentations, seen the changes of the airs characterised in the same terms, which are used to describe them in comic music. Here you read _grave_, there _ayroso_, and in another place _andante_. What, can’t we admit of all the music being grave, even in a lamentation? And is it necessary to introduce light comedy airs into the representation of the most afflicting mysteries? If grief could find a place in heaven, Jeremiah would lament afresh, at seeing such music applied to his songs of mourning. Is it impossible, that in those complainings, where every letter is a sigh, corresponding with, and expressive of the various sensations, arising from the subjects of his lamentation; either the ruin of Jerusalem by the Chaldeans, the destruction of the world for sin, the affliction of the church militant for the persecution of its martyrs; and, to sum up the whole, the anguish and sufferings of our Redeemer, for the salvation of mankind. I say, can the feelings produced by such sad and distressing calamities, be expressed with airy tunes and recitatives? In the mournful songs of Jeremiah, which some expositors call the Alphabet of the Penitents, should we hear the sound of festive airs and serenades? With how much more reason than him, ought we to exclaim here in the language of Seneca, when he censured Ovid, for having introduced into the description of so tragical an event as that of Deucalion’s flood, a verse which savoured of gallantry: _Non est res satis sobria lascivire devorato orbe terrarum._ The Cythara of Nero, while Rome was burning, had not so harsh a sound, as the harmony of dances in the representation of such affecting mysteries.

XXXIV. And besides offending in this particular against the rules of reason, they sin also against the laws of music, which prescribe, that the tone of the chant, should be suited to the meaning of the words; and therefore, when the language is solemn and expressive of sorrow, the tone of the music should be grave and affecting.

XXXV. It is true, that against this rule, which is one of the most cardinal, musicians very frequently sin in all sorts of compositions, some from being deficient, and others by exceeding. Those fall into the error of deficiency, who form music without any attention to the spirit or meaning of the words to which they apply it; but hardly any fall into those gross mistakes, except such as scarce deserve the name of composers, and who are capable of doing nothing more, than racking or weaving together, shreds and strips, of the compositions of other musicians.

XXXVI. Those err by exceeding or doing too much, who regulate their music with a puerile nicety, to correspond with the distinct or separate signification of each word, taken or standing by itself, without having regard to the meaning of the whole context. An example produced by father Kircher to illustrate this abuse, will explain what I mean. He instanced the manner, in which a composer had set to music the following verse: _Mors festinat luctuosa_; to the words _mors_ and _luctuosa_, he applied a mournful solfa; but to the word _festinat_, which stood in the middle between them, as it seemed to him, to signify vivacity or quickness, he appropriated a career of allegros, that would have caused the most sluggish nag who heard them, to bound about and give cabriols.

XXXVII. I saw something as bad, or indeed even worse than this, in one of the lamentations I cited before; where to the music adapted to express the following sentence: _Deposita est vehementer non habens consolatorem_, was marked ayroso. How ill-suited is an airy movement, to express the lamentable fall of Jerusalem, and also that of all mankind bowed down and crippled with the weight of their sins; which misfortune, was aggravated with the additional and distressing circumstance, of their being destitute of comfort under the calamity? But the blame of all this, was imputable to the adverb _vehementer_, because to express vehemence, appeared to the composer to require a lively movement; and thus, when he came to that word in the sentence, he quickened his pace, and upon the adverb _vehementer_, expended in rapid notes, music to the amount of forty crotchets; but the word, in the sense it was there used, was intended to signify the same as _gravissime_, and to express with energy, the degree of grief and sadness, occasioned by the fall of Jerusalem, which, crippled and bore down with the crushing weight of its sins, came to the ground, temple, walls, and houses, all together.

XXXVIII. Nobody was more guilty of this fault, than the celebrated Duron, and he committed it to such a degree, that sometimes in the same couplet, just as the signification of the words of the verse varied, taken separately or by themselves, he would vary the affectations of the chant, six or eight times; and although it required great address and ability to do this, which he in reality was possessed of; such an exertion of his talents was ill applied.

SECT. X.

XXXIX. Some (for we would not omit to mention this) judge, that the composing music adapted to different subjects, consists much, in a right choice of the keys; and they assign one for grave subjects, another for chearful ones, and another for mournful ones, and so on; but I believe, this contributes little or nothing to the business; for there is no key whatever, in which there have not been written, very expressive and pathetic compositions, suited to excite all kinds of affections. The different place which the two semi-tones occupy in the diapason, and which is what the distinction of keys consists in, is insufficient to induce this diversity; because in whatever place an accidental is introduced, and they introduce them at every turn, this order is changed; and because various, or the most parts of the composition, by varying their terminations, fall upon, or catch the semi-tones, in a different position, from that in which they stand or are placed, with respect to the diapason. For example; although the first key-tone, which begins D solre, proceeds in this order, first a tone, then a semi-tone, after that three tones, to which there follows another semi-tone, and at last there comes a whole tone. The different traces, or minute passages of the composition, taken each by itself, do not follow this order; because one begins in the first, another in the tone which is next after it, and so on with respect to all the other parts of the diapason, and they terminate wherever the composer likes best; by which means, in every trace or minute passage of the composition, the position of the semi-tones is varied, as much, as in the different diapasons, which constitute the diversity of the keys.

XL. What confirms me in this sentiment, that the suiting music to produce a grave or a sprightly effect, does not depend upon the choice of the key it is wrote in, is, that the greatest musicians, are much divided in their opinions upon this point. What one considers as a lively key, another thinks a mournful one; what one esteems a devout key, another calls a flighty one. The two great jesuits, father Kircher, and father Dechales, are so opposite in their sentiments upon this head, that the same key, which father Kircher characterizes in this manner, _Harmoniosus, magnificus, & regia majestate plenus_, father Dechales speaks thus of: _Ac tripudia, & choreas est comparatus, diciturque propterea lascivus_; and they differ little less, in their assignation of the characters of many other keys, if not of all.

XLI. The foregoing, should be understood to relate and apply to the essential difference of keys, which consists, in the diversity of position of the semi-tones in the diapason; but not to their accidental difference; which, consists, in their being taken higher or lower. This may conduce something to create effect; because the same music, set in low notes, which is religious and grave, transposed to high ones, loses of its majesty, and acquires a degree of vivacity, that is ill suited to a solemn subject: and for this reason, I am of opinion, that the movements of church music should not be very quick: because, by hurrying the voices in the chant, they occasion them to sound harsh; and besides this, prevent that easy play and flexibility of throat, which is necessary to produce the effect the music requires; and which many times consists, or is contained in the intonations; I say further, that over and above these inconveniences, music composed of quick movements, and set in high notes, is not so well calculated to move the affections of respect, devotion, and piety, as that which is written in lower tones, and marked to be performed in slower time.

SECT. XI.

XLII. For the same reason, I am against the introduction of violins into churches. St. Thomas, in the place I before cited, objects to the admitting any kind of instruments in the church; and the reason he gives for the objection is, that the sensible delight which the instrumental music occasions, hinders devotion. But it is not easy to reconcile this reasoning, with what the saint says in another place, to wit, that the delight perceived by the air, excites weak spirits to devotion; and he, in the same place, approves of the use of musical instruments in synagogues, because the Jews being a hard and carnal people, there is a necessity for having recourse to such means, to provoke and stir them to piety. At least then for people of this stamp, musical instruments in churches would be very serviceable; and there being a great many of that disposition who frequent churches; consequently, the instruments would be found exceedingly useful. Besides, I can’t comprehend, how the sensible delight which instrumental music occasions, should induce to devotion those who on account of their hardness are little disposed to it, and obstruct it in those whose hearts are more inclined to divine worship.

XLIII. I acknowledge and confess, that it is much more easy for me to misunderstand St. Thomas, than for St. Thomas to advance any thing that is wrong: but after all, the universal practice of the whole church authorizes the use of instruments; and the only difficulty or disagreement, seems to rest in the choice of them. I for my own part think, that violins are improper in that sacred theatre; their shrill notes, although harmonious, are still shrill, and excite a puerile vivacity in our spirits, very different from that decent attention, which is due to the majesty of mysteries; and especially in these times, when those who compose for violins, studiously write their music so high, that he who is to execute it, can scarce forbear striking the bridge of the instrument with his fingers.

XLIV. There are many other instruments much fitter to be used in churches than violins, their tones being much more respectful and grave; such as the harp, the violincello, and the harpsichord; neither would the inconvenience of the want of trebles in the instruments be felt, by leaving out the violins, but rather, the music by the omission would appear more majestic, which is what is most required in churches. The organ is an admirable instrument; or, to speak more properly, many instruments comprized in one. It is true, that the organists, when they are so disposed, can make a sort of pipe and tabor of it; and it is also true, that this disposition seems to come upon them pretty frequently.

SECT. XII.

XLV. It would not be foreign, but rather very consonant to the object of our present criticism, to say something in this place of the poetry, to which they give the epithet of divine, and which is composed to be sung in churches, I may without temerity, venture to pronounce, that poetry in Spain, is in a worse state of perdition than music. The number of those who write couplets is infinite, but none of them are poets. If I was to be asked, which are the most difficult of all arts, I should answer, medicine, poetry, and oratory: and if I was also to be asked, which are the most easy; I should answer, oratory, poetry, and medicine. There is no student, who, if he takes a fancy to it, does not write verses. All the religious who mount the pulpit, and all the doctors who have studied and practised physic, find their partizans: but where will you meet with the truly able physician, the compleat poet, or the perfect orator?

XLVI. Our most learned monk _Don John de Mabillon_, in his Treatise on Monastic Studies, says, that an excellent poet is a very rare treasure, and I agree with him in sentiment; for upon strict examination, where, among the numbers of poetical essays that are published, will you meet with any one, which (omitting many other requisite qualities) is natural, sublime, sweet and pointed; and at the same time, ingenious, and clear; brilliant without affectation, sonorous without turgidity, and harmonious without impropriety; that runs without hobbling, is delicate without affectation, forcible without harshness, beautiful without paint or strained colouring, noble without presumption, and copious and comprehensive without obscurity? I will almost venture to pronounce, that he who would find a poet capable of writing verses in this stile, should seek for him in the regions inhabited by the Phœnix.

XLVII. In Spain however, poetry is in so deplorable a state, that according to all appearances, it would be needless to search for such a one there. He who errs the least, with the exception of here and there a particular one, seems as if he studied how he should commit faults. All his care appears to be placed, in swelling the verse with irrational hyperboles, and pompous words; by which means, he produces a bloated, and confirmed dropsical poem, the sight of which turns your stomach, and the perusal fills you with melancholy. Those essential qualities, propriety and nature, without which, neither poetry or prose can ever be good, seem to have abandoned, and become fugitives from our compositions. Our authors don’t in their productions, appear to have hit upon that native splendor, which gives a brilliancy to their ideas, but rather, to have disfigured their best thoughts, with affected and bombast expressions; so that their original conceptions, may be compared to a fine woman that falls into indiscreet hands to be dressed and ornamented.