Incomplete And Utter History Of Classical Music

JOS YOU, JOS ME…

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et me skip on a few years from Josquin's death in 1521. Rather like a submarine, I'll submerge for a few years and come up in 1551. Let me try and briefly fill you in on what was going on at sea level. Henry VIII has been through all six wives, and finally shuffled off himself. If you believe his PR man, he also left us the song 'Greensleeves', although this is open to doubt. Edward VI is now the boss. Over in France, Nostradamus has issued his first set of predictions. In his lifetime, he was said to have predicted that Hitler would come to power, that Ronald Reagan was the devil, and - one that I found myself only the other day when I was leafing through - the fact that David Beckham would break his second metatarsal just before the 2002 World Cup/

What else? Well, court jesters - the sixteenth-century version of stand-up-^ - are the new rock and roll across Europe. Titian is the favoured artist of those in the know, and, perhaps most importantly, the pocket handkerchief has come into common use in a big way. So far, I have been unable to determine whether deckchairs and rolled-up trouser legs came into vogue at the same time.

But to 1551, and there is big news. A man called Palestrina has been made the director of music at St Peter's in Rome. It was a quite fortuitous turn of events for the twenty-five-year-old composer. Palestrina had been organist and choirmaster of his local cathedral for the last seven years. Then, in 1551, the bishop whom he had been supplying with cute little Masses every week suddenly wasn't a bishop any more. He was a Pope. Totally different. Within days, Palestrina was installed as choirmaster of the Julian Chapel at the Vatican, under the new pope, Julius III, and Palestrina was busy telling eveyone 'we go way back.' Now, today this may not seem particularly important in the scheme of things, you might say. On paper, after all, it's only 'man gets Church job'. But in 1551, music was the Church, and virtually everyone wrote not just for it but also by order of it. A lot of them considered it their duty - thoughtful, well-educated men (because it almost always was men) who often decided that God had given them this gift of music, therefore they had to repay him, by dedicating their work and often their life to him. Add to this the fact that the Church's motto at fi Pretty sure that's what he meant by 'a prince with a clubfoot3. P PMost popular joke of the???: 'I wouldn't say my wife was fat… but when they put her on the ducking stool, there was a tidal wave in Shrewsbury… nay, verily, but seriously, good people…' this time appeared to be something like 'Scium Quo Habitas' - 'We Know Where You Live' - and, well, it's not surprising to find that lad majorem deigloriam' appeared on many a front page.

And here's another thing: not only does MUSIC = CHURCH at this point, but also, MUSIC = SINGING. Now why is that? Why was more or less all music composed by these Church-loving composers at this time vocal?

I'm glad you asked me that, as politicians are prone to saying, because I'm not going to answer it. I will in a moment, but first back to Palestrina.