The sixteenth century was a period of deep crisis, but also of profound renewal in the spiritual domain. Luther’s Reformation ignited the spark of crisis, but in fact it merely set to fire the logs which had been piled up in the previous decades: corruption of the clergy, a deep intertwining of religious and secular power and ignorance were among the most evident problems. Luther’s initiatives broke the unity of the Church, and started a process leading, by the end of the century, to the crumbling of the Western Church into a number of different confessions. Probably Luther could not foresee so dramatic consequences as these; his original aim was undoubtedly that of reforming the Church, not of starting the Reformation.
Among the most evident symbols for Lutheranism, the Lied (later known as Chorale) is certainly prominent. For Luther, it was crucial that the faithful, regardless of their level of education, could be able to actively (and vocally) participate in the worship services; instead of the august (but complex, and archaic) tradition of Latin plainchant, Luther and his fellow Reformers provided their congregations with simple songs, whose easy lyrics and catchy tunes could be learned by rote even by the uneducated, by the children and by the “simple folk”. In a slightly different perspective, John Calvin opted for metrical psalm paraphrases in the local vernacular: while these were the work of some of the most important poets of the era, these paraphrases eschew complexity and literary refinement for its own sake, and are in turn enjoyable, understandable and easy to commit to memory.
Even among those who remained within Catholicism, the need was felt for a deeper involvement of the laity in the spiritual life of the Church. The beauty and history of Gregorian chant could not be denied, and few wished to renounce this heritage (incidentally, Luther was among those who wished to safeguard this repertoire); however, Latin was understood only by the most educated layers of society. Moreover, the rich ornamentation of the Gregorian tunes, their lack of a clear rhythmical structure and the tradition restricting its singing to the clergy prevented an active participation of the laity in the music of the Church.
As is well known, the Catholic Reformation (sometimes improperly called Counterreformation) aimed at a deep renewal of the Catholic Church, also (though not exclusively) in response to the challenges of the Evangelical Reformations. Certain elements of Catholicism against which the Evangelical had vehemently fought were reaffirmed, while other points were rethought in consequence of the Protestant challenges, and still others saw a substantial correspondence between Evangelic and Catholic views. The case of music and of the vernacular is a liminal one.
While the official worship of the Catholic Church remained in Latin (with a few local exceptions, and notwithstanding the explicit requests coming from various quarters), some Catholic pastors acknowledged the importance of a deeper involvement of the laity in the spiritual life, and particularly in and through music. The Catholic pastor who felt this need most was probably St Philip Neri, a humorous, ironic, joyful person who was able to infuse Catholic spirituality with refreshing liveliness. Neri came from Florence, where, in the preceding century, the Dominican friar Girolamo Savonarola had enacted a profoundly spiritual (and deeply political) revolution, also by means of a revival of the medieval tradition of religious singing in the vernacular. Savonarola’s earthly life ended at the stake, but the heritage of his spirituality was not forgotten. Moving to Rome, Neri brought this tradition with him, and had a brilliant intuition: that of creating a “holy” but not “consecrated” space, a space close to a church both in location and in shape, but different from it; a place where people could pray, but where no “worships” such as the Mass would be celebrated. He called the first of such places Oratorio, literally “a place of prayer”: from this Italian word come two English terms, oratory (which, to present-day, indicates the similar places of prayer founded by Neri’s followers, among which that of Birmingham is famous for its association with John Newman and JRR Tolkien), and oratorio, referring to a musical genre most famously embodied by Handel’s Messiah, to name but one. The two terms are interrelated: in Neri’s oratories, the oratorio was born.
The Congregation of the Oratory, a religious order of priests, affirmed the value of music, singing and art in general as a means for the edification, the spiritual entertainment, but also contemplation and meditation. Following in Savonarola’s footsteps, and continuing in a centuries-old tradition, the Oratorians created an extensive repertoire of religious songs in the vernacular, called “laude”, which are structurally and conceptually very close to Luther’s Lieder. Both genres are in the local language, both are normally strophic, both demonstrate a remarkable flexibility both in the transition sacred/secular and in the capability of adapting a same tune to different lyrics (and sometimes vice-versa). Among the most famous composers of lauds were Giovanni Animuccia (1520-1571), Giovanni Giovenale Ancina (1545-1604), Giovanni Francesco Anerio (1567-1630) and Francesco Soto de Langa (1534-1619). The latter was a priest was collected numerous books of lauds which were published in printing (and this is yet another point of contact with Luther’s approach), thus allowing them to be sung and disseminated in the homes and in the secular contexts of social life. One of such collections was the Libro delle laudi spirituali (Rome, 1589); it comprises many anonymous songs, some of which may have been composed by Soto de Langa himself, but also some lauds with explicit attributions, such as Lodate Dio by Animuccia.
Lauds and spiritual songs could have a moral character; they could narrate Biblical episodes, or stories excerpted from the lives of the saints; they could represent a continuation of the medieval tradition of the miracle tale, recounting the prodigies happening at a shrine, or by virtue of a saint’s holiness; they could finally be closer to meditations or contemplations in music, focusing on a particular liturgical moment or mystery of faith. We have examples from most of these genres in this Da Vinci Classics album; for example, the Ninna nanna al Bambino Gesù, alla napolitana, is a touching character piece inspired by the Neapolitan singing tradition, and in which a sweet spiritual lullaby is sung in honour of the child Jesus. Lauds with a more doxological character are, for example, Lodate Dio, or Ave del Mare Stella, dedicated to the Virgin Mary. Once more similar to what Luther had done in Germany, Ave del Mare Stella is a vernacular paraphrase after a Latin hymn, Ave Maris Stella: this album includes several other works inspired by this hymn, such as Frescobaldi’s four Inni sopra Ave Maris Stella, for the organ.
The Oratorian tradition of the Oratorio is represented here by excerpts from the Rappresentatione di anima et di corpo, a sung play which is an early-modern reinterpretation of the medieval morality plays, and which effectively inaugurates the tradition of the musical genre known today as “oratorio”. This album includes also purely instrumental pieces, such as the Recercadas by Diego Ortiz; their secular character should not surprise within the framework of a spiritual recreation. Indeed, one of the pillars on which Neri’s work was grounded (and, to be sure, this is yet another point of contact with Evangelical Reformers such as Luther or Martin Bucer) was that a real Christian life should not be divided between the opposing spheres of the sacred and the secular. Quite the contrary: even the “secular” activities, such as work, love, but also leisure and sociability, should be understood within the framework of a “holy” life. Reportedly, Luther used to wonder: “Why should the devil have all the good tunes?”. Neri could have agreed with him: for both Reformers, “good” music, even if it had dance overtones, should not be banned; they both knew the power of music to root itself in the listeners’ minds and to inhabit them stably. Rather than attempting the doomed enterprise of unrooting it, both Luther and Neri preferred to transform the “good tunes” into a resource for spiritual life; by giving them spiritual words, they could exploit the mnemonic power of music and use it for reminding the faithful of the mysteries of faith. This concept was embodied by Neri’s ragionamenti, i.e. meditations where there was a component of spiritual reading, catechism, sermons, but also singing, instrumental music and prayers in music.
In turn, after Neri’s death, and when the fame of his holiness started to be unanimously acknowledged, lauds started to be written to honour him; one such example is Si dilegui e si distrugga di Filippo il cor nel seno, whereby his “big heart” is interpreted in miraculous terms and as a symbol for his holiness. The deep humanity of Neri and of his concept of spiritual life proved to be extremely fruitful; thus, the Oratorian idea of music for catechesis and prayer was exported also outside Italy and outside Europe. Both the Oratorians themselves and the Jesuits (another congregation founded roughly at the same time) employed music and singing as instruments for the education and spiritual edification of the new Christians in Asia and in America. From the Oratory of Santa Maria in Vallicella, the music spread all around the world.
Liner Notes by Chiara Bertoglio