Monteverdi Vespers of 1610 - Notes  

Charles Douglas, March-April 2024

Monteverdi and the genesis of Baroque music

Although his work fell into almost complete oblivion between the early 18th and mid-20th century, Claudio Monteverdi (1567-1643) is now recognized as a giant in the history of Western music.  He is comparable to Beethoven in that he stands as a bridge between two radically different eras of music history, and contributed works in both the earlier and later styles, many of which are treasured as masterpieces. He is also comparable to Shakespeare, born only three years earlier: both were creative masters who came out of the glorious flowering of the late Renaissance, assimilated a huge amount of what was going on around them historically and culturally, and memorably helped both shape and sharpen styles and attitudes fundamental to the rapid evolution of modernity in the 17th century. 

In Monteverdi’s case, the evolution from old to new was clearly perceptible and a subject of argument even as it happened, when he was in his 30s. He had published his first three books of madrigals by the time he was 25, but then it was over ten more years before the appearance of the fourth, quickly followed by the fifth. It is evident that during that time he was developing his new style. The difference was first identified rather pejoratively, by the critic Giovanni Artusi in his 1603 treatise On the Imperfections of Modern Music, in reference to some still unpublished madrigals of Monteverdi’s he had first heard in 1598.  Artusi was a theorist and champion of 16th century polyphonic style, and was severely critical of all Monteverdi’s innovations, accusing him of being entirely committed to the new style and mocking the old:

“[Modern composers] are content with knowing how to string notes together in their own way and to teach how to sing with much movement of the body, accompanying the voice with those motions, and ultimately they let themselves go to such an extent that they do actually seem to be dying, and this is the perfection of their music.”

He based his critique on a distinction between prima and seconda pratica – first and second practice. In 1605, in the preface to his Fifth Book of Madrigals, Monteverdi happily accepted this distinction, dubbing the seconda pratica “the perfection of modern music”.  After that, he started using the term to describe what he was doing – though it is evident from his letters and from accounts of his conversation that he was not a relentless modernizer, but preferred to provide music appropriate to the situation for which it was composed. 

The introduction of this new term coincided closely with the first use of the term “stile moderno”, introduced by the Florentine composer Giulio Caccini in 1602 to describe his own monodies. These were recitativo-like lyric songs for solo voice, in which the voice dominated, basso continuo was introduced as a simplified form of accompaniment, and elaborate ornamentation was spelled out in detail in the vocal line.  Though Monteverdi wrote works in this form – “Nigra sum” in the Vespers is a fine example – he chose not to adopt the term.  This may have been out of a sense of competition with Caccini – who was one of the originators of opera and by all accounts a rather spiteful and querulous character – or perhaps because the practices criticized by Artusi dated back to the 1590s, and were somewhat distinct from those described by Caccini.

Then, in 1607, Monteverdi’s first opera L’Orfeo was produced, extending his public distinction and momentum as well as his musical range.  Opera at that point was a brand-new genre, the first generally recognized example of which had been performed in Florence nine years earlier, in 1598; and the son and heir of Monteverdi’s patron – Francesco, son of Vincenzo Gonzaga, Duke of Mantua – was eager for the court to become renowned for such entertainments.  (Both father and son were culturally ambitious and discerning: they also employed the Flemish painter Rubens, as well as other composers of note such as Salamone Rossi and the innovative Flemish composer Giaches de Wert.) Vincenzo commissioned another opera from Monteverdi for the wedding of Francesco in 1608: this was to be L’Arianna, a short order composition that Monteverdi said almost killed him.  Unfortunately, the opera has been lost, but we can gather from the fragment presented in the Sixth Book of Madrigals, published in 1614, that it elaborated on the dramatic style and function of monody, the inclusion of which in a madrigal was an additional daring step. 

Monteverdi never replied directly to Artusi, busy as he was with new compositions and publications; but his younger brother Giulio Cesare (1573-1631) – also a composer working at the Mantuan court – came to the defence of the older brother’s new style in both madrigals and opera.  Among other communications, Giulio Cesare wrote in his preface to the Scherzi Musicali of 1607 (which included his own work as well as Claudio’s), “My brother states that he does not compose randomly; because his intention has been (in this musical genre) that the words be the mistress of the harmony and not the servant.” He goes on to describe how the new style honours the primacy of “the truth of art”: for Claudio Monteverdi, this involved musical expression of both the true meaning of the language and the truth of the underlying feelings and human situation. As he said a few years later, in relation to his first two operas, “I am interested in Orfeo because he is a man, and in Arianna because she is a woman.” 

This focus on the truth of expression is closely related to several of the ways in which secunda pratica involved liberation from the constraints and conventions of prima pratica: freer use of dissonance to express emotional content, and of melodic and harmonic approaches in general; abrupt changes of rhythm and tempo from phrase to phrase; new kinds of metrical and rhythmic relationships and shifts, often abrupt. Over the rest of his career, coming to a climax in the Eighth Book of Madrigals in 1638, Monteverdi would continue to explore and intensify these musical elements in relation to different emotional states, including profuse syncopation, sometimes very close, and rapid repetition of the same note on a quick phrase of language (or sometimes on the same syllable). Though he published almost no purely instrumental work, he increasingly used instruments to mirror and match the vocal style, using solo instruments in the way that Caccini’s stile moderno was treating the voice. He also began explicitly scoring lines for specific instruments to accompany the voice or voices, where the previous practice – particularly for polyphonic music – had been to use instruments to duplicate the voice parts, or in some cases replace them entirely for performance. 

These shifts in style required new approaches to performance technique for both singers and instrumentalists, which can be challenging for performers even today. Aquilino Coppini, a Milanese rhetorician who published adaptations of Monteverdi’s madrigals to Latin religious texts, wrote to a Flemish colleague in 1609,

“[Monteverdi’s madrigals] require, during their performance, longer breath and a beat which is not strictly regular, sometimes pressing forwards or indulging in rallentandos, sometimes even hurrying. …  They contain a truly astonishing capacity to move the emotions.”

Circumstances surrounding publication of the Vespers

Monteverdi’s work for the Gonzagas was very demanding, as it involved directing the music for the ducal Capella (the private chapel), with a small clerical and musical entourage that frequently travelled with the Duke.  Musicians in this group were also expected to do double duty by providing secular entertainments, and Monteverdi was under frequent pressure to produce music for special occasions so that his employers could show off the cultural richness of their court. He would have been busy composing both religious and secular works as part of this broad responsibility, but it was evidently the pressure for secular compositions above all that wore him out. Already in December 1604 he wrote to the Duke requesting a reduction in the amount he was asked to do. He was also increasingly frustrated that the star singers were paid like the celebrities they were, while he, who composed for them and directed them, was paid as a more ordinary palace employee. 

As already mentioned, the demand for two operas in quick succession in 1607 and 1608 – on top of all his other duties – was a particular strain on the composer, and the strain was worsened by the death of his wife Maria – also a singer at the court – in the autumn of 1607 when he was composing L’Arianna. Fortunately for him, the deadline for the second opera was delayed by several months for completely independent reasons, but there can be no doubt that the bereavement made his struggle to complete the opera even more difficult. After its performance he returned to his father’s household in Cremona to recover, and became quite ill, to the degree that his father wrote to the Duke asking him to please ease up on demands on his suffering son (who was then 40 years old). He also suggested to the Duke that Monteverdi be allowed to leave his direct service and become the master of music at the Cathedral in Mantua, a position to which the Duke had authority to appoint him, and which involved a more regular workload at a higher salary. The Duke declined, and ordered Monteverdi back to work; but the composer refused. There followed an attenuated series of negotiations, in which Monteverdi finally agreed to return with several improvements in his remuneration arrangements, and a promise from the Gonzagas never to ask him for another opera.

It was in the midst of this combination of physical and emotional exhaustion, employment negotiations and the sustained fervour of creative evolution, stylistic polemic, and cross-pollination of genres, that Monteverdi began to put together Il Vespro della Beata Virgine.  As is clearly the case with Monteverdi’s books of madrigals, it is probably a combination of works composed for specific occasions over the course of several years, with additional pieces written specifically to round it out.  It was published in 1610, together with the six-part Missa In Illo Tempore, a mass even more observant of the prima pratica rules than those of Lassus, Palestrina, or Victoria – but with a particular verve that marks it as Monteverdi’s.   The composer dedicated this package to Pope Paul V, and went to Rome in person to present it.  Having evidently decided during the course of 1608 that he would be more comfortable working as music director and composer for a large ecclesiastical establishment, and been refused the transfer to the Cathedral in Mantua, he had decided to look elsewhere, and was starting at the top. This publication was his portfolio. 

The trip to Rome was not productive. Apart from wanting to place his new publication in the hands of Pope Paul V, he apparently had several other objectives. One of these was to secure a benefice for his eldest son, Francesco, to help recover costs of training for the priesthood; but in this he was unsuccessful. He apparently had another secret objective, for which he was attempting to travel incognito; but he was recognized by someone from the household of Cardinal Ferdinando Gonzaga, the second son of his employer Duke Vincenzo, and was thereupon obliged to stay there.  This decidedly blew his cover.  There is evidence that he achieved an audience with the Pope, or at least papal attention, because there is in the Vatican Library a part book from the first edition, bearing Pope Paul’s seal.

However, he was not offered a job.  Perhaps the Pope had no employment to offer, or perhaps– unlike the other major heads of state in Italy – he was resistant to the new style. It is possible he was also offended by the Venetian resonances in the work: there had been strong ecclesiastical and political tensions between Venice and the Papacy for centuries, and Pope Paul had placed the city under interdict four years earlier, though French and Spanish diplomacy managed to negotiate a pardon.

Monteverdi returned to Mantua, where he continued his work as before, with the previous strain not entirely alleviated.  Then, in 1612, the death of Duke Vincenzo introduced both new challenges and new opportunities.  The new Duke, Francesco, who had set up court after his marriage in Montferrat (where he had ducal title as son and heir of the Duke of Mantua), returned to Mantua with his own musical entourage, of which the director was Giulio Cesare Monteverdi. Not feeling particularly competitive with each other, the brothers tried to work out a solution whereby Giulio Cesare would continue on as musical director at the palace, and Claudio would move over to the position he had wanted at the Cathedral. Unfortunately, Francesco got wind of this, and was upset not only because he did not want to lose the services of the brilliant older brother at the court, but because he was furious at this insubordination. He sacked them both.

Francesco was not to enjoy the ducal powers for more than 10 months, but died in December. Fortunately for Claudio Monteverdi, both Giovanni Gabrieli and Giulio Cesare Martinengo (1564-1613) also died during the ensuing year, leaving open the posts of both organist and music director at San Marco in Venice.  Monteverdi promptly and successfully applied for the job of music director.  The document announcing his appointment refers to the 1610 publication: it is as though it had been prepared with this job in mind. 

There was by no means a permanent rift between Monteverdi and the Gonzaga family. Under Cardinal Ferdinando, who ruled as Duke until 1626, the Mantuan court continued to commission new compositions from him.  They also tried to lure him back; but he was clearly very comfortable with his situation in Venice. Among his greatest fans was Eleonora, the youngest child of Duke Vincenzo, who ended up marrying the Habsburg Emperor Ferdinand II in 1622, and made the Viennese court a centre for Baroque music and for the propagation of Venetian style through the rest of Europe. It was to her son, Ferdinand III, that Monteverdi would dedicate his Eighth Book of Madrigals in 1638.

The Vespers in the context of Monteverdi’s works

While Monteverdi is best known – apart from the Vespers – as a composer of madrigals and operas, and his published works in these secular genres substantially outnumber his published output of religious music, he was composing liturgical and other religious works throughout his career. His first two publications – at the ages of 15 and 17 respectively – were a collection of Latin motets for three voices and a collection of Italian spiritual madrigals for four. He continued to compose liturgical and other religious music throughout his life – his posts both at Mantua and at Venice required it – but he published very little except for the Vespers between those youthful compositions and the Selva Morale in 1641. That large and impressive compilation appears to be his own choice of the best unpublished liturgical music he had written throughout his career, and includes a Messa da Capella in four parts, isolated other movements for masses, settings of Psalms and of the Magnificat, hymns, a litany to the Virgin Mary, a variety of motets, and a handful of spiritual madrigals.  In 1650, a few years after his death, his Venetian pupil and successor Francesco Cavalli (1602-76) published an additional four-part mass and a cluster of other liturgical compositions including one of his own (collectively labelled Psalms) which presumably Monteverdi had overlooked or decided against, but which Cavalli felt were worth preserving. (In a similar way, Cavalli published a Ninth Book of Monteverdi’s Madrigals the following year.)

It appears from the published combination of the Mass and Vespers in 1610 that Monteverdi wanted to show off his abilities in both the old and new styles, not simply by having the Mass follow the prima pratica and the Vespers follow the seconda, but by integrating the approaches together in ways that make the Vespers unique in his work.  One striking feature that marks the continuity of the Vespers with earlier liturgical music is the use of fragments of Gregorian chant, which show up in over half the movements.  Frequently these are used as a cantus firmus, around which the rest of the music is elaborated.  But a Gregorian motif can also be used as a basis for polyphonic elaboration across many parts, as was common in the stile antico.  This polyphonic treatment is exemplified in the openings of most of the psalms, as detailed further below.  

One other characteristic that distinguishes the Vespers from any work Monteverdi had published previously is the Venetian style.  This is recognizable from the moment the choir first comes in at the beginning of the work, when we hear the combination and alternation of massive choral sound with the festive sound of the cornets and sackbuts.  The use of multiple choirs in the last two Psalms and the hymn is also typically Venetian.  Similar techniques had been used in earlier liturgical music, particularly among Flemish composers, and were introduced to San Marco by Adrian Willaert (c.1490-1562) – Master of Music there for the last 35 years of his life – and his pupil Cipriano de Rore (1516-65).  They were further elaborated into a distinct musical style by Andrea Gabrieli (1532-85) and his nephew and pupil Giovanni (1557-1612), who were each in turn organist and resident composer at San Marco. Their music took full advantage of the resonance of that large Byzantine basilica, and of the many chambers and galleries where different musical forces could be stationed and answer each other in conversation or in echo – creating a full experience of “surround sound”.  The Gabrielis continued to have significant connections with Flemish and German composers: both were friends of the great composer Roland de Lassus (a.k.a. Orlando di Lasso, 1532-94), another disciple of Willaert, and between them they taught Hassler, Pretorius, Sweelinck, and Schütz. But their formative influence on Monteverdi’s liturgical style may be the most historically significant.

Overview of the Vespers

Monteverdi’s Vespro follows the appointed liturgical structure of Vespers, the daily monastic office appointed to be said or sung around sunset. The musical structure includes the opening responses, a series of Psalms, a hymn, and the Magnificat.  The singing of the Vespers would also have included several prayers chanted solo by one of the clerics (and the Our Father possibly sung by a larger group or the whole assembly on a Gregorian tune) and a brief closing response, none of which are included in the score. Each psalm was originally sung in plainchant and would be preceded by an antiphon in plainchant; but by the late 16th century there was an increase in festive settings of the Psalms themselves. The convention had also been to repeat the same antiphon after the psalm; however, festive practice around 1600 had shifted so that the repetition of the antiphon was replaced by a motet, which was not necessarily related to either the psalm or the antiphon.  Monteverdi’s Vespro follows this practice, with each of the five Psalms followed by a motet, in most cases honouring the Virgin Mary. His setting does not include Gregorian chants for the preceding antiphons (which would vary with the liturgical occasion being celebrated), though these are sometimes included in concert performances and recordings. 

The general design and selection of texts for the Vespro allows most of it to be used not only on feasts of the Virgin but also on feast days for virgin saints. Scholars tend to agree that it was put together in the expectation that portions might be used selectively in combination with other works – including of course works by other composers – to make up a Vespers celebration for a feast day of some other kind. The provision of two versions of the Magnificat, for different sizes of ensemble, supports this idea of its being designed to support choice.

Each of the Psalms used in the Vespers was set at least three times by Monteverdi during his career, as well as being set by other composers. The psalm settings in the 1610 work are distinguished by the clear presence of Gregorian motifs in each of them, usually appearing as a cantus firmus, but also often used as the basis for polyphonic elaboration in the opening sections, following prima pratica.  Every one of the Psalms finishes with the Gloria Patri, but the music for this is always specific to the psalm in question, and of the same fabric.  Unlike his English contemporaries – and many later composers – Monteverdi does not reuse the setting of the Gloria across different movements in the same work: every psalm includes its own setting, distinctly appropriate to the music that has gone before. The motets are more diverse in style then the Psalms, tending to feature solo singers without the chorus. Some of them also highlight the instrumental players – particularly for the eight-piece ensemble in the Sonata.

The verse and response of Deus in Adjutorium is the call to prayer that traditionally opens the daily office, as established by St. Benedict. The opening line would probably have been sung by a priest or other cleric who was not part of the choir.  The music when the choir comes in is adapted from the beginning of Orfeo, but the powerful sound of the choir together with cornets and sackbuts is highly reminiscent of Venice, while the instrumental ritornelli in triple time bring us back to the shepherds’ dances in the opera.

Dixit Dominus is traditionally the first psalm sung at Vespers on a feast day, and is a favourite among composers: Monteverdi left us five settings, Charpentier six, Vivaldi three, and we also have highly regarded settings by Handel and Mozart, to mention only a few a few.  Since the time of the Gospels, this text has been used as a witness to the divine kingship of Christ, but it also has an older and persistent function as an assertion of the divine authority of the secular ruler, which must have had some appeal in courtly contexts in the 17th and 18th centuries.  Monteverdi’s setting begins with polyphonic treatment of the Gregorian psalm tone, then moves abruptly into a series of lively musical phrases that typify various elements of the secunda pratica.  These alternate between passages for full choir and for small vocal ensemble, separated by instrumental ritornelli. Each of the small ensemble passages features a duet between two soloists, with a bass soloist or small schola keeping the cantus firmus.

Nigra Sum, the first motet, is one of a pair set to words from the Song of Songs.  While interpreted in the Christian tradition as a symbolic portrayal of the Holy Spirit courting the Virgin Mary – and of Christ calling the human soul – it is amorous poetry as passionate as any set in Monteverdi’s operas or madrigals, and the composer sets it accordingly. The difference is that it is in Latin, and perhaps the Latin prose line allows for even greater freedom than Italian verse for the expressive monody. The music is almost entirely in the single tenor voice, singing the words of the woman as she tells the story of her encounter with her lover, supported by the simple continuo. Note particularly the painting of the words “Surge, amica mea, et veni” – “Rise up, my love, and come”, beginning with a run of an octave and a half on the word “surge”.  This second part of the text has been set by many different composers in different languages, from the 1400’s or earlier up until the present.

Laudate Pueri is also a traditional psalm for Vespers, with five surviving settings by Monteverdi, and multiple settings also by Charpentier, Vivaldi, Handel, and Mozart, among others. Monteverdi’s approach is very similar to that in the previous psalm, except that the scored instrumental accompaniment is limited to an organ. The opening phrase is presented as a polyphonic treatment of the psalm tone, followed by a short homophonic passage and then a series of passages for small ensemble, each one consisting of a duet of equal voices (in turns soprano, tenor, bass) supported by the cantus firmus in a different voice (tenor, alto, soprano). The last few verses and the Gloria are sung by the choir, with the Amen trailing off like a farewell symphony with the voices of the two tenors.

Pulchra Es is the second motet based on the Song of Songs, with a soprano duet singing what the man says to the woman about the effect of her beauty on him: “Turn away your eyes from me: they make me fly off!” The vocal line is again very florid and expressive, with a simple continuo accompaniment.

Laetatus Sum was a popular Latin psalm text for musical settings in the 17th century, but composers’ interest seemed to fade after that. However, the English BCP translation, “I was glad”, has been memorably set for coronation anthems by composers from Purcell to Parry. Here Monteverdi’s setting begins with the tenors singing the psalm tone for the first verse, then follows through with an alternation of passages for full choir and for small ensemble, similarly to the previous Psalms.

Duo Seraphim is the only motet in this work that cannot be directly associated with the Virgin Mary. The words are from a liturgical response for the feast of the Holy Trinity, and adapt passages from Isaiah and the first letter of John.  They were set frequently in the 16th century, but less often after that. As with most of the other motets, this one is set elaborately for solo voices, tenors in this case.  There is a kind of musical joke based on the shift from the two seraphim in the opening section, sung by two tenors, to the words “Tres sunt” – “There are three” – where a third tenor suddenly joins in to help proclaim the mystery of the Trinity.

Nisi Dominus – “Unless the Lord builds the house” – was also a popular text for composers from Lassus in the High Renaissance through to Vivaldi and Zelenka in the late Baroque. Monteverdi’s setting in the Vespers is the most rhythmically complex movement in the work, in two choirs of five parts each (SATTB) plus continuo, with no explicit solo parts and no specified instruments. The opening passage for all 10 parts is intensely syncopated, with one of the tenor parts in each choir singing half a beat off the other parts, and each of the other two tenor parts singing the cantus firmus.  This is followed by a long section in which most of the psalm is sung antiphonally with the beginnings and ends of phrases overlapping, and the cantus firmus continuing in each choir.  They come together for the final verse and the Gloria, which concludes with a reprise of the music of the opening.

Audi Coelum, is the only piece in this work that is based on a contemporary text, as opposed to a traditional liturgical text or a passage from Scripture, and is scored for two tenors (with continuo), one of them singing as an echo from heaven. The anonymous Latin poem was probably written about 1600, and first appears in a setting by Fattorini in 1601.  It obviously had broad appeal for composers, because it was set by two others before Monteverdi’s publication less than 10 years later. This was probably because of the musical opportunities inherent in the echo device, then coming into vogue with the taste for metaphysical poetry, where the syllables at the end of a line are repeated as a separate line in a matching voice, creating a response that is usually based on a pun.  For instance, after the main solo tenor sings, “Dic mihi, … ut benedicam,” – “Tell me, so I may bless”, the echo sings “Dicam” – “I’ll tell”.  The vocal lines are richly ornamented in the early Baroque style, and the ornamentation is carried through into the echo (which makes for an unusually long echo; but heaven is a long way off, though present and attentive).  Unlike the other motets in this piece, this one ends with a full six-part chorus, coming in at the word “omnes” – meaning “all”, in the phrase “let us all follow”.

Lauda Jerusalem was a slightly less popular choice for psalm settings after Monteverdi, although Charpentier and Zelenka each wrote three settings, as did Monteverdi himself; several other composers, including Vivaldi, wrote elaborate festive settings of it; and J.S. Bach used a German translation of it for the opening text of his Cantata 119. As with Nisi Dominus, the setting in the Vespers is polychoral, with two SAB choirs plus a schola of tenors on the cantus firmus. There are no specifically scored solo voices or instruments.  The approach is similar to the previous psalm, with the two choirs singing antiphonally for a portion of it, but the schola on the cantus firmus carries on relentlessly throughout.  The playful syncopation may be more evident here because the texture is somewhat lighter.

The Sonata sopra Sancta Maria is primarily an instrumental composition for an eight-piece ensemble plus continuo (the size of the instrumental group available to Monteverdi in Mantua), with florid Baroque embellishments around the Gregorian cantus firmus of the very simple repeated prayer, “Holy Mary, pray for us”, sung by a schola of sopranos.  This is the only one of the “motets” to employ a Gregorian cantus firmus.

Both words and melody line of the hymn Ave Maris Stella are traditional in Gregorian liturgy. Compared with the psalm tones this is quite an elaborate and sustained melody, which is repeated for each of the eight verses of the hymn. While the opening verse – in eight parts – is designated as unaccompanied, an ensemble of instruments is specified for playing ritornelli between most of the verses, and may also accompany them. Verses are assigned in turn to each of the two four-part choirs and to soloists (two sopranos and a tenor), before the final eight-part verse with full instrumental participation.

Monteverdi left us four settings of the Magnificat, of which two were published with the Vespers in 1610. As is usual in performance today, we are singing the more complex one for seven vocal parts (SSATTBB) plus instruments and continuo. The other, for six vocal parts and continuo, is mostly a simplified version of the seven-part one, with much the same vocal lines but one voice part less, and no obbligato instruments. (The other two, published in the Selva Morale in 1641, are both quite different, one for two 4-part choirs plus instruments, the other for four parts and continuo.)

This setting is in 12 sections, one for each verse of the text, and is mostly scored for solo singers, with the full choir singing the first and last sections. The cantus firmus is prominent throughout, and in some sections – such as “Quia respexit” and “Fecit potentiam” – there is only one vocal part (sung by a group or a solo) carrying the line of chant, while the instruments play ornamentally around it.  In other sections one voice or part carries the chant, while other solo voices participate in the elaborate play. The final Amen has no apparent cantus firmus, but is a brief and powerful expression in choral polyphony. 

Sources and acknowledgements

Whenham, John, and Richard Wistreich, editors, The Cambridge Companion to Monteverdi, Cambridge University Press, 2007

Stevens, Denis, translator and editor, The Letters of Claudio Monteverdi, Revised Edition, Oxford, 1995

Alessandrini, Rinaldo, “as we see practised in modern madrigals…”, booklet essay for Monteverdi: Tutti I Madrigali, recording of performances by Concerto Italiano under Alessandrini’s direction, Naïve, 2023. 

Numerous articles from Wikipedia.

I am also grateful for a wide variety of recordings of Monteverdi’s works, to which I have been listening in writing these notes; for the experience and privilege of singing Monteverdi’s music at different times under the direction of Peter Butterfield, Marco Vitale, and Peter Walker; and for conversations about Monteverdi with Marco Vitale and with the late Douglas Cowling.