Master of the Notes: Episode 4

City of Dead Ends: Josquin in Milan

In the Biblioteca Ambrosiana in Milan, founded by Cardinal Federico Borromeo in 1609, you can find the “Portrait of a Musician,” Leonardo da Vinci’s only surviving portrait of a man. Could it have been a portrait of Josquin des Prez? Leonardo and Josquin both worked at the court of the Sforza at the same time in the late 1480s. They might have known each other; they might have been friends and Leonardo could have taken oil and maybe tempura and painted a picture of his friend on a little panel of walnut wood. If he did, it would be the only surviving likeness of the composer.

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Leonardo da Vinci’s (?) portrait of Josquin des Prez (??) in the Biblioteca Ambrosiana Milan (© Creative Commons)

We set out to find the portrait; but it was the height of the 2021 coronavirus lockdown. The museum was closed, and the curators were not giving interviews. Instead, we spoke to Geoff Lehman, art historian and professor at Bard College in Berlin, and we asked him: could Leonardo da Vinci’s portrait be of Josquin des Prez? And he said: What makes you think it’s by Leonardo? There is no paper trail for the painting’s provenance, he told us; the evidence, in his opinion, suggests that Leonardo’s painting of Josquin is not Josquin and not by Leonardo.

Somehow, that seems emblematic of so much of Josquin scholarship, which sometimes seems better at proving that things weren’t composed by Josquin then that they were. But we do at least know to which member of the Sforza family Josquin was especially connected: Ascanio Sforza. In Milan we learn more about Josquin’s patron—so much a part of Josquin’s Italian career that he became known as Josquin d’Ascanio, Ascanio’s Josquin. “I believe that Josquin’s fate was for a number of years strictly connected with this person who eventually became Cardinal and moved to Rome—and therefore also Josquin moved to Rome,” says Raffaele Mellace, professor of musicology and music history at the University of Genoa.

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Milan's Castello Sforzesco (© Zhen Yan / Creative Commons)

Josquin’s Missa La sol fa re mi, so the story goes, was actually composed as a dig at Ascanio. He was said to have a habit, despite his wealth, of not paying on time. “Lascia fare mi,” he would say, with a dismissive wave of the hand if pestered for overdue payments: “Leave it to me.” Josquin reduced the saying to “La sol fa re mi,” or A-G-F-D-E, all notes in the “natural” hexachord, which starts on C. Pianist Karim Said, who composed the music for this podcast, explains with piano demonstrations how hexachords work, and unpicks the way Josquin wove his tongue-in-cheek motif through his mass. For listeners of Josquin’s time, perhaps especially Ascanio himself, the message would have been unmissable.

It’s as if mere composition wasn’t enough for Josquin—he felt compelled to play elaborate number games at the same time.

Today’s listeners might not hear, “Ahem, time to pay me!” when they attend a performance of the Missa La sol fa re mi, but they can still be entranced by Josquin’s extraordinary inventiveness and the perfection of his counterpoint. Peter Phillips, music director of The Tallis Scholars, explains how Josquin uses his mathematics to hit us fair and square in the emotions: “I think people are in tears now because Josquin sets up such a powerful atmosphere. It has mood. But it’s not done like a romantic composer. It’s done in a different way. And that’s what’s so interesting. I think that we’re really lucky that we can still feel it through this distance in time. By the time we get to the early Renaissance, these composers were adept enough with their mathematics to create a mood that just grips you.”

It’s as if mere composition wasn’t enough for Josquin—he felt compelled to play elaborate number games at the same time, and to do so in ways that were both immediately recognizable for his contemporaries and a little bit cheeky. It’s during his time in Milan, where gambling was hugely popular, that he’s said to have written his Missa Di dadi—each movement worked out around the numbers from two dice thrown apparently at random. Josquin clearly knew the rules of gambling, too, because he has the singers stop when one of the “players” has thrown a winning hand.

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Josquin's Missa Di dadi in Ottaviano Petrucci's 1514 print (© Austrian National Library)

Jesse Rodin, associate professor at Stanford University and Josquin expert—you might remember him from earlier episodes of this podcast—agrees that the Missa Di dadi is a brilliant and original mathematical construct. But he doubts that Josquin actually wrote it. “There are all sorts of details in it that that you would never find in his music. Whoever wrote it has imbibed a lot of Josquin and is kind of working through Josquinian tricks. And you hear that in all sorts of ways. But there are plenty of signs that it’s not him.”

All this feels a lot like a déjà vu. We started out with a Leonardo da Vinci portrait of Josquin that turned out not to be of Josquin and not to be by Leonardo da Vinci. Now we’ve run into a Josquin mass that probably isn’t by Josquin. Milan seems to be a city of dead ends. And yet, when Peter Phillips and The Tallis Scholars perform Josquin’s masses in Berlin this July, the Missa Di dadi will be among them. Perhaps it’s just the nature of Josquin that we can never know for sure.




Master of the Notes is a Max Music Media production commissioned by the Pierre Boulez Saal and written by Shirley Apthorp and Willem Bruls.

Born in South Africa, Shirley Apthorp grew up in Australia and studied music at the University of Tasmania. Since 1996, she has lived in Berlin, writing about music for numerous international publications including the Financial Times (UK), Bloomberg (USA), and Opernwelt. Her work has been published in the United Kingdom, the U.S., Australia, Germany, Austria, Japan, Brazil, the Netherlands, Norway, and South Africa. In 2010, she founded the award-winning non-profit organization Umculo which supports social development through music theater in South Africa. Shirley Apthorp received the Classical:NEXT Innovation Award in 2019.

Willem Bruls holds degrees in literature and history of art and works as dramaturge, author, music critic, and librettist. He has published extensively on a wide range of subjects, including most notably a study of Wagner’s Ring cycle and orientalism in opera. He collaborated with directors such as Guy Cassiers and Pierre Audi and directed several music theater productions himself. He wrote a stage adaptation of Pasolini’s Teorema for the Ruhrtriennale Festival and has given workshops on contemporary music theater, libretto writing, and youth theater throughout Europe. He serves as an advisor for the performing arts to the Dutch Arts Council.



Credits

Original Music for this podcast was composed by Karim Said and recorded by Angela Boutros, Elias Aboud, Roshanak Rafani, and Joseph Protze of the Barenboim-Said Akademie.
Excerpts from Josquin des Prez, Missa La sol fa re mi and Missa Di dadi, recorded by Peter Phillips & The Tallis Scholars © Gimell Records.

In case of violation of copyright, we kindly ask the rightsholders to contact us.

Podcast: Master of the Notes

Podcast: Master of the Notes

Pietro Perugino, The Delivery of the Keys (1482) © Vatican Museums (photo: Eric Vandeville / akg images)

Who was Josquin? In spite of the composer’s celebrity during his lifetime, 500 years after his death this question has become quite difficult to answer. That’s why Shirley Apthorp and Willem Bruls set out to search for Josquin in their podcast “Master of the Notes,” following his traces across Europe in eight episodes.

Episode 1: Introduction

How did a singer from Burgundian Flanders become Europe’s most sought-after composer? Starting from a name scratched into the wall of the Sistine Chapel, Shirley Apthorp and Willem Bruls begin their search for Josquin across Europe, which in this first episode takes them from Rome to the places of the composer's childhood.

A starting point: Josquin's only known signature in the choirloft of the Sistine Chapel, Vatican (© Creative Commons)

Episode 2: Why Josquin?

Was Martin Luther Josquin’s PR agent? What can we learn from the notes on a naked bottom painted by Hieronymus Bosch? Did Josquin save polyphonic church music, or was he just a nasty little man? In the second episode of Master of the Notes, Shirley and Willem travel from Antwerp to Milan and Rome in Josquin’s footsteps in a bid to find a few answers on why he became “the Master of the Notes.” What exactly made him stand out from his contemporaries and earned him a reputation that would endure half a millennium?

Detail from Hieronymus Bosch’s Garden of Earthly Delights, c. 1500 (© Creative Commons)

Episode 3: In the Spider’s Web

Who the hell would work for a man who had incinerated his own relatives? It seems quite likely that Josquin actually did just that. For a long time, his whereabouts in the early years of his international career were more than unclear—in this episode, Shirley Apthorp and Willem Bruls try to retrace some of Josquin's first steps between Cambrai, Aix-en-Provence, and Paris.

The Sainte Chapelle in Paris: did young Josquin come through here in the early years of his career?

Episode 4: City of Dead Ends

In Milan’s Biblioteca Ambrosiana you can find the “Portrait of a Musician,” Leonardo da Vinci’s only surviving portrait of a man. Could it have been a portrait of Josquin des Prez? They both worked at the court of the Sforza at the same time in the late 1480s—so Shirley and Willem set out for Milan to learn about Josquin’s time in the city. Is there more to find than dead ends?

Leonardo da Vinci’s (?) portrait of Josquin des Prez (??) in the Biblioteca Ambrosiana Milan (© Creative Commons)

Episode 5: All roads lead to...

...Rome, where else. Josquin moved to the Eternal City in the 1490s with his Milanese employer, Cardinal Ascanio Sforza, and joined the choir of the Sistine Chapel. What was life like as a papal singer? Was Josquin a pious servant in the service of the church or a diplomatically skilled top earner who knew how to have a good time?

The Eternal City in the early 16th century (© University Library Wrocław)

Episode 6: Miserere mei

Could Josquin have been a follower of Girolamo Savonarola? In his quest for religious purification, the radical Dominican friar seized control over Florence briefly in the late 1490s before he was imprisoned and burnt to death on the city’s main square. Might the manic reformer have struck a chord with the Flemish composer, perhaps as a stark contrast to the permissiveness of Rome under the Borgia Pope? Shirley and Willem unveil interesting ties between the two men.

Statue of Girolamo Savonarola in Ferrara

Episode 7: Dolphins in Venice

Shirley and Willem arrive in Venice at the height of the pandemic and enjoy the magic of a city entirely devoid of tourists with a mixture of awe and guilt. They came to La Serenissima to find about Ottaviano Petrucci, who invented a new way of music printing here at the turn of the 16th century—musicians today might know him from the IMSLP Petrucci Music Library. He also published the first-ever volume of music by just one composer—you guessed it: Josquin.

Gentile Bellini, Procession on the Piazza San Marco (1496, © Gallerie dell’Accademia Venice / Creative Commons)

Episode 8: 501 Years and Counting...

He had worked for kings, dukes, and popes and traveled Europe's most important courts. And yet at the end of his life, Josquin retired to a comfortable position in his hometown, Condé-sur-l’Escaut. In their final episode, Shirley and Willem return to where they set out on their journey in Josquin’s footsteps and reflect on his legacy and influence on composers from the past and present.

Entry on Josquin in Petrus Opmeer’s Opus chronographicum, 1611 (© Yale University Library)