Reformation and Counter-Reformation: Why We Don't All Sing in Latin Anymore

In the previous installment of this series, we concluded with a discussion of the madrigal and how it, in some ways, was the best example of Renaissance style. The very end of the Renaissance, however, brought about some very interesting developments. As history continued to march on, with political, social and religious change, music was right there in the middle of it. There were two topics I was hoping to cover today, but as I wrote the body of the article, I realized that they are each so important to the history and development of music as we know it, that they deserve their own posts. Today, we’ll look at the music of the Reformation and Counter-reformation, the influential composers of this phenomenon, and how sacred music had to some extent come full circle. The second idea, which we’ll explore in a couple weeks—is how secular composers followed the trends of the other arts—visual and language arts—by showing extreme mannerism in their styles.

The Reformation, as nearly anybody would tell you, began in 1517 when Martin Luther nailed his ninety-five theses to the door of Wittenberg Chapel in Germany. If I were to give you the whole backstory leading up to this event, I’d need to start a whole new series. Suffice it to say that Luther and several others began to realize that the one of the reasons the Catholic Church held such a strong cultural hold on the people was the fact that few people any more actually knew what was being taught. All the services—those beautiful masses that we’ve discussed—were in Latin. Any sermons, any scriptures—all Latin. With the spread of the Church across Europe, the large majority of the people who worshiped in the church could not understand a word of what they were told. And if you don’t understand it, you can’t refute it. This allowed corruption and extortion to creep in, and the common parishioner was none the wiser.

In order to combat this corruption, Luther broke away from the Church, translated the scriptures and services into the vernacular, and started teaching the average villager how to understand for himself. He did write a German mass, but he also began to compose and teach simple chorales (a vernacular version of the Latin motet). These were intended for congregation singing, and home devotions, bringing sacred music out of the choir loft and to the people. The texts and melodies were either adaptations of Latin chant, or newly composed by Luther and others in the movement.

John Calvin and his reformation in Switzerland and France produced a generous collection of accessible Psalm settings, and the English quickly followed suit. They dropped the mass all together in favor of a simpler service with anthems in English. There were elaborate versions for trained choirs and special occasions, but the large bulk of the music was sung by the congregation, and required little training. Because music was such a part of devotion for these people, it was the religious reformers that did much of the writing and composing of new pieces for worship. Many of these have become the modern hymns of the Protestant Church.

The other half of this coin is the counter-reformation, or the religious reformation accomplished from within the Catholic Church rather than by breaking away from it. With so much upheaval, the Church leaders realized that things weren’t running as they should, and that it was time to re-evaluate. And here we come to the composer that many consider to be the perfection of Renaissance counterpoint.

Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina was born in the 1520’s and lived to the end of the century, working at St. Peter’s Basilica for much of his life. He fine-tuned his counterpoint with such finesse that his sound is like none other. Some of the qualities seen in his work include scoring for 4-6 voices but with each voice utilizing only a very tight-range, eliminating voice crossing. His use of consonance and dissonance was very delicate, with enough dissonance to create a satisfying resolution but keeping the imperfect consonances on the strong beats. This practice went a long way in training the public to hear pieces in either the major or minor keys, leaving behind some of the earlier modes. His rhythm flows easily, not obscuring the text, but emphasizing it. One other strong characteristic includes the elimination of parallel fifths and octaves. Any theory student will have been beaten over the head with this rule, but listening to the full, rich sound of Palestrina’s compositions proves the point.

His most famous piece, the Pope Marcellus Mass, has because the stuff of legend. It is said that during the Council of Trent—a meeting of church leaders to discuss reforms—nearly banned polyphonic music from the church, citing the focus on elaborate production rather than the text. According to the story, it was Palestrina’s mass that convinced the council that polyphonic music could be uplifting and sacred, not distracting. Listen to it for a minute--or 30--and you’ll see why the Council was so affected by this piece of genius.

He had contemporaries that pushed his rules somewhat. Tomas Luis deVictoria is a Spanish composer who brought an exotic flair to sacred composition without obscuring its use for worship. He was one of the first to being using chromatics (sharps or flats not included in the key) as a way of emphasizing words or intensifying cadences.

And so we see how sacred music began with very simple, text-based compositions intended only to enhance the devotion of the participant. Slowly, the various chants and services became more elaborate as artists explored the possibilities of this new medium. In time, church authorities felt that the meaning of the text was being lost, and the complex sacred motets of the early Renaissance were becoming useless for worship. Now here at the end of the Renaissance, the church—both Catholic and Protestant—has found a way to maintain the beauty and complexity of its music without losing the original purpose.

Next post, we'll look at the craziness that was the end of the Renaissance in the world of secular music, and how it paved the way for the Baroque era of Monteverdi, Corelli, Handel and Bach.