If anyone out there thinks that I have dropped my language studies and only spend my time writing texts about music.. well, it is not quite the case. For instance yesterday evening I worked with two texts, on in Slovak and the other in Indonesian.
The Slovak one told about even more small... no by the way, let's take it in Slovak:
SLK: Slovenský text pozostával z niekolkých krátkych úryvkov z webových stránok múzeí, a vcera som cítal o Obchodnom múzeu a Vodárenskom múzeu. V roku 2019 som navštívil Bratislavu a navštívil som vodárenské múzeum, ktoré je blízko botanickej záhrady (a na ulici vedúcej k zrúcanine Devín). Prvýkrát som prišiel na víkend a bol zatvorený. Strážca bol nahnevaný a hlúpy, ale na malom plakete sa uvádza (v slovenskom jazyku), že múzeum bolo otvorené iba v pracovné dni. Dobre, vrátim sa - a tak vidím botanickú záhradu dvakrát, napriek premenlivému pocasiu. A ked som bol v múzeu, bol som jediný host. Bolo to takmer ako navštívit súkromnú vilu.
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IND: Teks bahasa Indonesia adalah tentang Santa - sisa dari Natal.
IT: Infatti ci fu qualche testi più - nella linga sarda (che io non ho studiato). Li ho letti come lettura di buonanotte, senza dicionario neppure traduzione (il sardo non è ancora nell'elenco di Google Translate). Il primo testo era scritto nella lingua parlata naturale: una signora con la sua famiglia ha visitato un museo archeologico in occasione "de sa jorronada de is Museus Abertus", ed era un testo informativo ma difficile. L'ultimo - sul bilinguismo - è stato alquanto deludente, malgrado il titolo. Quello al medio togliò esattamente il topico menzionato da Mentecuerpo ieri: la musica degli zingari in Spagna. E questo è stato davvero facile da capire: prova per te stesso il seguente estratto di un articolo ottimo sulla
Flamenco da sardu.net:
(SARDO)
Su Flamenco est una de sas culturas musicales pius particulare e fatzilmente reconnoskìbile de s'Europa. Sa caraterìstiga peculiare de su Flamenco est in sas influèntzias de sas diferentes orìzines, difatis podimus incuntrare in custa musica cumponentes culturales hindù, àrabas, judeas, gregas, castillyanas etz. (...) In su sud de s'Ispannya e pius pretzisamente in Andalussia, sos Zitanos arrivein in su sèculu XV ue die pro die ponian aficu a sa musica issoro formèndela in manera ispetaculare. EN: And now back to English. I mentioned a few days ago that Henry VIII actually composed nice dance music as a young man. Then there were some rather wellknown composers who wrote church music: Taverner, Tye, Tallis - the latter is mainly known because Vaughan-Williams wrote an excellent fantasy over a thema by mister Tallis, but also because he composed a veritable polyphonic tour de force, his "Spem in Alium" for 40 voices - here sung by a choir of
700! And Guinness Record Book was not even invented back in the 1500s!
The real breakthrough came under queen Liz with a host of composers who wrote music for harpsichord, consort and .. well, some of them are mostly known for their songs (like for instance Morley and Weelkes), and of course many wrote church music (including W.Byrd, cfr. below) - but that's not my cup of tea.
One of the most important composers from this period was John Dowland, who spent some of his time in Denmark at the court of Christian IV. He actually got a VERY high salary there (500 daler a year), but still he was one of the most woefully melancholic souls in the whole history of music. For instance he wrote a collection of songs known as "Lachrimae, or Seaven Teares" - and luckily these are also found in a version for consort. The second one it the famous "Flow my tears". For the harpsichord he wrote pieces with titles like Melancholie Galliard, Complaint, Forlorne hope fancy, Fortune my foe, Go from my window, Melancholie Galliard and Semper Dowland semper dolens. One reason for him to be a tad melanchiolic could be his catholic leanings (quite problematic in England at the time). Even the queen herself called him an "obstinate Papist" - but since he remained loyal to the court and wrote beautiful music he was not burned at the stake, hanged or had his entrails cut out. Lucky Dowland.
Another wellknown composer, William Byrd, apparently conversed from protestantism to catholicism around 1570, which eventually led to his dismissal from the Royal Chapel, but didn't prevent him from becoming a very rich man. The bulk of his harpsichord pieces are found in a monumental collection called the "Fitzwilliams Virginal Booke" and in a publication of his own, known as "My Ladye Nevells Book" - for instance the programmatic "Battell" in several sections. And his titles are not quite as tearful as those of mr. Dowland: many are pavans and gailliards etc. dedicated to wealthy noblemen, but he also wrote cute small pieces like "Jhon come kisse me now" from the Fitzwilliams book. Speaking about titles, one passage from
Wikipedia caught my eyes:
"Byrd's Quomodo cantabimus is the result of a motet exchange between Byrd and Philippe de Monte, who was director of music to Rudolf II, Holy Roman Emperor, in Prague. In 1583 De Monte sent Byrd his setting of verses 1–4 of Vulgate Psalm 136 (Super flumina Babylonis), including the pointed question "How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange land?" Byrd replied the following year with a setting of the defiant continuation, set, like de Monte's piece, in eight parts and incorporating a three-part canon by inversion.""how shall we " etc... does that ring a bell? Of course this quote comes from the bible, but it turns out that it was made famous by a disco group named Boney M - not because an obscure Frenchman named de Monte wrote something over it in 1583. Byrd also wrote music for consort - in fact most composers of the day did, maybe with the exception of the learned doctor John Bull, who was a famous harpsichord virtuoso. There are basically two types of consort: simple ones with only one kind of instruments, although in different sizes, and broken consort where instruments from different families are mixed. Some pieces of this kind are strict polyphonic pieces with titles like In Nomine or Fantasy (Fancy). One of last composers to write this kind of music was Purcell (1659?-1695), who wrote no less than 38 operas, but also a set of 'fancies' for string consort - but NOT the famous trumpet voluntary 'by Purcell': it was in fact written by Jeremiah Clarke and named "The Prince of Denmark's March".
Other renowned consort composers include Jon Jenkins, Coperario and several generations of Ferrobosco's. Purcell died young - allegedly because his wife had locked him out on a cold day, though some say tuberculosis (it could be a combination). Clarke fell in love with a young lady from a higher social class than himself and shot himself - but got special (posthumous) permission to be buried in sacred ground.
FInally: why were the whole generation of composers from the late 16. century known as virginalists when their preferred keyboard instrument was the harpsichord? Well, for the simple reason that queen Elizabeth I was known as the virgin queen - and she could even play the instrument herself which therefore was named after her. She was also a noteworthy polyglot - I think we have a thread about that topic somewhere. The strange thing is actually why modern Anglophones insist on calling the instrument 'harpsichord' when it isn't anything like a harp.
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