Petrarch’s Musical Tradition

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Above: a sunset in Tuscany.

650 years ago, during  the night between July 18 and 19, 1374, a gentle Tuscan poet passed away, who, like many other great figures, was fueled by the flame of genius, being born and thriving in Christian civilization, becoming a shining star within it: Petrarch.

Born in Arezzo on July 20, 1304, Petrarch was a pioneer in the use of the vernacular as a literary tool. An undisputed master of the art of the sonnet, he spent his childhood in Avignon, the residence of the Roman Pontiffs between 1309 and 1377. In 1341, upon his return to Rome, he was crowned poet laureate on the Capitoline Hill. His masterpiece, the Canzoniere, represented a true revolution for its time: a collection of 366 compositions in the vernacular, conceived as a daily reading to be completed over the course of the year. At the heart of this work lies the figure of “Laura,” and the collection is divided into two parts: one dedicated to the period when Laura is alive, the other to the period following her death from the plague. Through these poems, Petrarch explores the contrasting emotions of joyful love and profound sorrow.

The words of the great poet from Arezzo have inspired generations of musicians from the 14th century to the present day, who have found in his lyrics a fertile ground to explore deep emotions and universal themes. Among them are Bartolomeo Tromboncino († 1535), Claudio Monteverdi († 1643), Franz Joseph Haydn († 1809), Franz Liszt († 1886), Igor Stravinsky († 1971), and Lars Johan Werle († 2001), just to name a few of approximately one hundred and sixty.

In our musical commemoration, we focus on the two final compositions of his famous Canzoniere: I’ vo piangendo e Vergine bella.

I’ vo piangendo is a sonnet in which the author reflects on the course of his life and laments the past times dedicated to earthly love. While Dante boldly and profoundly explores the universe through his vigorous flights, questioning and redefining the conceptions of a Middle Ages often and erroneously still seen today as a succession of dark centuries, Petrarch instead appears burdened by a weight. Despite having the wings to aspire to inaccessible heights, he seems content with lower regions, contemplating the heights with a melancholic desire. He invokes divine grace and help, sensing imminent death, thus anticipating the religious theme that will be at the center of the subsequent song dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary.

Among the numerous settings of this sonnet, two spiritual madrigals for 6 voices by Andrea Gabrieli († 1585) stand out, the most eminent figure of the Venetian School and the Palestrina of the Serenissima, as well as the organist of St. Mark’s. The composer demonstrates a keen sensitivity not only to individual words but also to the overall essence of the sonnet. In this case as well, Gabriel emerges as a prominent master of chromaticism (alterations of sounds within a scale). I’ vo piangendo  features many passages in distant keys from the central one of D minor.

In the initial section, the harmonies rise abruptly, at the words “per dar forse di me non bassi esempi” (that might have freed me for spaces not so low), even reaching the F-sharp major chord, the dominant of B major. In contrast, in the subsequent section of the piece, the harmonies descend rapidly to convey the sense of the “alma disviata e frale” (this frail and straying soul), culminating in the D-flat major chord and relative chords. Sì che, s’io vissi also incorporates chromaticism, albeit to a lesser extent than I’ vo piangendo.

However, in both madrigals, the composer skillfully and adeptly manages the harmonic complexity with agility.

The song Vergine bella represents an extraordinary homage to the ideal of Christian beauty, dedicated to the Madonna, described as clothed with the sun and crowned with stars, invoking the passage of the Book of Revelation (12:1). Regarding the first stanza of this hymn, Pope Paul VI observed: “Imagine how it is possible for human nature to be clothed with the sun; it means a splendor, an internal radiation that pours forth in a dazzling beauty. We must limit ourselves to using the smoked diaphragm of our poor words to be able to contemplate in some way this otherworldly vision.”^[1]

The Canzone to the Virgin is Petrarch’s composition most frequently set to music. The first to intone its first stanza was Guillame Dufay († 1474). After him, we find Bartolomeo Tromboncino († 1535), Cipriano De Rore († 1565), Vincenzo Ruffo († 1587), Claudio Merulo († 1604), and others. Even Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina († 1594) chose it to compose the Stanze sopra la Vergine, a cycle of spiritual madrigals for 5 voices, published in 1581 by Angelo Gardano in Venice.

The richness of biblical, liturgical, and patristic references woven into the song merges with the richness of ornatus and the gravitas of Petrarchan style, creating an unparalleled model of devout lyricism, a prayer in verses. Reading, declaiming, or listening to it set to music meant the possibility of happily combining religious instances and the poetic taste of late humanistic coinage.^[2]

Palestrina clearly adheres to the text, painting with precision and eloquence the deepest and most suggestive emotions, in a lively interweaving of sounds that make the composition vivid, refined, and passionate.

We also trust that, as we reach the end of our days, we may find comfort in the heavenly intercession of she to whom, for centuries, the concluding prayer of this wonderful song has been addressed: “Commend me to your Son, truly / Man, and truly God, / that he might receive my last breath, in peace.”

Photo by Luca Micheli on Unsplash

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^[1] Paul VI, Homily, August 15, 1974; our translation.

^[2] P. Cecchi, La fortuna musicale della Canzone alla Vergine petrarchesca e il primo madrigale spirituale, in Petrarca in musica, A. Chegai e C. Luzzi eds., Lucca 2005, p. 254; our translation.