Keyboard thinking: intersections of notation, composition, improvisation, and intabulation in sixteenth-century Italy

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Content KEYBOARD THINKING:
INTERSECTIONS OF NOTATION, COMPOSITION, IMPROVISATION, AND
INTABULATION IN SIXTEENTH-CENTURY ITALY

by

Ian Pritchard
––––––––––––––––––––
A Dissertation Presented to the
FACULTY OF THE GRADUATE SCHOOL
UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
in Partial Fulfillment of the
Requirements for the Degree
DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
(MUSIC HISTORY AND LITERATURE)

December 2018
Copyright 2018 Ian Pritchard

ii

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Many friends, colleagues, teachers, and institutions have been instrumental in making this
dissertation possible. First and foremost, I would like to thank my first reader, Kristi Brown-
Montesano, for her incredibly perceptive and astute suggestions; her intelligence, mentorship,
and friendship. Without her support, I doubt that I would have been able to finish this project.
The other members of my committee, Bruce Alan Brown, Giulio Ongaro, and Joanna Demers,
have offered invaluable support and guidance; in particular, I would like to thank Bruce Alan
Brown for his sharp editorial focus and for his keen, insightful suggestions.
This project developed out of my interest in this music as a performer; it is therefore
necessary to thank several past teachers who provided inspiration, and, in many cases, active
support. In particular, I would like to thank Susanne Shapiro, who helped a young, aimless
teenager start on the pathway to being a serious performer; Lisa Crawford, whose pedagogical
rigor and codification of Leonhardt’s teachings gave me a true harpsichord technique; and James
Johnstone, who inspired me to follow my interest in early modern Italian music, taught me to
think about continuo in new ways, and provided invaluable help at a crucial point in my life.
Directly related to the present work, I would like to thank Liuwe Tamminga, who is largely
responsible for my obsession with this music, and who supplied me with personal copies of
many of the manuscripts that I write about in this dissertation. My memories of studying organ
with Liuwe in Bologna on the historic organs of San Petronio remain some of my fondest.
I would like to thank the Colburn School and, in particular, Dean Lee Cioppa and
Deborah Smith, for their ongoing support to a junior faculty member frantically trying to finish
his degree while maintaining a full teaching schedule. In-class discussions with Colburn
Conservatory students helped me develop many of the ideas presented here. A special thanks is
iii

owed to Alan Kay, who built my group Tesserae a digital organ that became an invaluable
resource in its ability to reproduce the sound of the San Carlo Antegnati in Brescia. I was able to
play much of the repertoire discussed in this dissertation on a brilliant instrument that sounded
quite like the real thing.
A huge thanks is due to staff at the UCLA Music Library, Los Angeles; the USC Music
Library, Los Angeles; the Jean Hargrove Music Library at UC Berkeley; the Museo
Internazionale e Biblioteca della Musica, Bologna; the Royal College of Music Library, London,
the British Library, London; and the Laurentian Library, Florence. Special gratitude is owed to
Leon Chisholm, who alerted me to the location of a key microfilm.
Lastly, I would like to thank my family: my parents, David and Patricia Pritchard, for
their unwavering support and unconditional love; my brother, Evan Pritchard, for moral support.
Most importantly, I would like to thank my beautiful wife and life partner, Alexandra Opsahl, for
everything (and for putting up with everything), and my two sons, Oscar and Oliver, who give
me more joy than I can possibly express. I dedicate this dissertation to them.
TABLE OF CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ii
LIST OF FIGURES v
LIST OF TABLES v
LIST OF MUSICAL EXAMPLES vi
ABBREVIATIONS xi
INTRODUCTION: KEYBOARD THINKING AND NOTATING THE
UNWRITTEN TRADITION
1
CHAPTER 1: ITALIAN KEYBOARD TABLATURE REVISITED 65
CHAPTER 2: SONARE A CONSONANZE: IKT AND IMPROVISATION IN THE
RICERCAR BEFORE 1550
147
CHAPTER 3: SOUNDING IMAGES AND DOTTE PARTITURE: AUTHORIAL
SELF-FASHIONING IN CINQUECENTO KEYBOARD INTABULATIONS
212
CONCLUSIONS 300
APPENDIX: SELECT INTABULATION MODELS FROM SIXTEENTH-
CENTURY PRINT AND MANUSCRIPTS
318

v

LIST OF FIGURES

Figure 0.1 Flows of Influence: Model
and Intabulation.
53

LIST OF TABLES

Table 0.1 IKT Conventions. 7
Table 2.1 Sources of Liturgical Settings
and Preludial Ricercars
Before 1550.
153
Table 2.2 Instances of Chord Chains in
Keyboard Sources Before
1550.
161
Table 2.3 Girolamo Cavazzoni:
Treatment of Plainchant in
Alternatim Hymn Settings.
203

vi

LIST OF MUSICAL EXAMPLES

Example 0.1 Claudio Merulo, LA RADIVILA, mm. 34-37, from MERULO
1606 (bottoms staves).
4
Example 0.2 (a) M. A. Cavazzoni, O stella maris, from CAVAZZONI M
1523, opening. (b) Claudio Veggio, Recercada per b quadro
del primo tono, from Ca, fascicle 5, 20r.
38
Example 0.3 Girolamo Cavazzoni, Recercar IIII (sic) CAVAZZONI G 1543. 42
Example 0.4 Examples of similar figuration in intabulations from
GABRIELI 1605b.
46
Example 1.1

Andrea Gabrieli, Canzon Francese deta Frais & galliard A
Quatro voci; di Crecquillon (1605).
72
Example 1.2 Andrea Gabrieli, CANZON deta Qui la dira (1605). 75
Example 1.3 Andrea Gabrieli, Canzon Francese deta Ie prens en gre. 76
Example 1.4 Andrea Gabrieli, Io mi son giovinetta. Madrigale a4. Tabulato
da Andrea Gabrieli.
77
Example 1.5 Andrea Gabrieli, Canzon Francese deta Frais & galliard A
Quatro voci; di Crequillon (1605).
79
Example 1.6 a) Antico, Per dolor mi bagno el viso, from ANTICO 1517.
b) Anon. Occhi miei lassi ben, mm. 1-8, from Ca, fascicle 1
c) Anon. A la dolce ombra, from Ba.
d) Anon. Orsus a cop, from Fr.
e) "d’incerto," Susana, from Fe.
80
Example 1.7 Anon, Ancor che col partire, mm. 4-11, from Ca, fascicle 4a,
14v.
86
Example 1.8 Anon., O s’io potessi Donna, mm. 22-24, from La. 90
Example 1.9 Anon., Se per colpa, mm. 29-32, from Ca, fascicle 5, 22v. 91
vii

Example 1.10 Sperindio Bertoldo, Hor vienza vien (1591), from BERTOLDO
1591a.
96
Example 1.11 Claudio Merulo, Susanne un giour, D’Orlando Lasso A5
(1611).
98
Example 1.12 Sperindio Bertoldo, Frais e gagliard (1591), mm. 8-10, from
BERTOLDO1591a.
99
Example 1.13 Sperindio Bertoldo, Hor vienza vien (1591), mm. 37-39, from
BERTOLDO 1591a.
100
Example 1.14 Girolamo Diruta, Transilvano, vol. 2, bk. 1, 6. 106
Example 1.15 Ascanio Mayone, Ancidetemi pur, (a) mm. 19-20, (b) 26-27,
from Primo libro di diversi capricci per sonare. MAYONE
1603.
111
Example 1.16 Claudio Merulo, Susanne un giour, D’Orlando Lasso A5
(1611).
115
Example 1.17 Claudio Merulo, CREQUILLON. Onques Amour A 5.(1611). 118
Example 1.18 Merulo, CREQUILLON. Content A 5, m. 43-49, from
MERULO 1611.
121
Example 1.19 Claudio Merulo, CREQUILLON. Onques Amour A 5.(1611),
mm. 36-38, from MERULO 1611.
124
Example 1.20 Sperindio Bertoldo, Frais e gagliard (1591), from BERTOLDO
1591a.
131
Example 1.21 Sperindio Bertoldo, Frais e gagliard (1591), mm. 33-36, from
BERTOLDO 1591a.
132
Example 1.22 Claudio Merulo, Susanne un giour, D’Orlando Lasso A5
(1611), mm. 51-52, from MERULO 1611.
133
Example 1.23 Claudio Merulo, CREQUILLON. Onques Amour A 5. (1611),
m. 27, from MERULO 1611.
134
Example 1.24 Bernhard Schmid (i), Ung gaij bergier, from Zwey Bücher
einer neuen kunstlichen Tabulatur auff Orgel und Instrument,
vol. 2 (1577).
136
Example 1.25 Ung gay berger, Gb-Lcm ms. 2088. 138
Example 1.26 Simone Molinaro, Frais & gaillard Canzone Francese a
quattro di Clemens non papa Intavolata dal Molinaro (1591).
141
viii

Example 1.27 Pisne dismiuta, from Antonio Valente, Intavolatura de cimbalo
(1576).
143
Example 2.1 M.A. Cavazzoni, R(i)cercada de ma(r)ca(ntonio) in bologna,
from Ca, fascicle 1, 5v, opening.
148
Example 2.2 Examples of undecorated chord chains. 171
Example 2.3 Claudio Veggio, Recercada per b quadro del primo tono, mm.
71-76, from Ca, fascicle 5, 18v; facsimile, Ca, fascicle 5, 18v.
174
Example 2.4 Claudio Veggio, Recercada per b quadro del primo tono, mm.
89-93, from Ca, fascicle 5, 18v.
175
Example 2.5 Outer-voice harmonic skeletons of the fragments in Example
2.2.
176
Example 2.6 Claudio Veggio, Recercada per b mollo del primo tono, mm. 8-
11 from Ca, fascicle 5, 21r.
178
Example 2.7 Claudio Veggio, Recercada per b mollo del primo tono, mm.
37-39, from Ca, fascicle 5, 21v.
179
Example 2.8 Fogliano, Rcerchada di Jacobo fogliano da modena, from mm.
17-20, from Ca, fascicle 2, 2r; facsimile, Ca, fascicle 2, 2r.
179
Example 2.9 Marco Antonio Cavazzoni, Recercare Primo, mm. 74-80, from
Recerchari, Motetti, Canzoni Composti per Marcoantonio di
Bologna (Venice: Vercelen, 1523).
180
Example 2.10 (a) Marcoantonio Cavazzoni, Recercare Primo, mm. 1-5, from
Recerchari, Motetti, Canzoni Composti per Marcoantonio di
Bologna (Venice: Vercelen, 1523); (b) Claudio Veggio,
Recercada per quadro del primo tono, mm. 45-47, from Ca,
fascicle 5, 19v.
181
Example 2.11 Santa Maria demonstrates how to "rise and fall with other
consonances" ("subriere o baxare con otras consonancias").
186
Example 2.12 a. Jacobo Fogliano, Rcerchare de Jacobo fogliano, mm. 13-16,
from Ca, fascicle 2, 1.
b. Anon., Vi’ Recercada, mm. 12-15, from Ca, fascicle 5, 24v.
192
Example 2.13 Categories of ornamented chord chains in sixteenth century
keyboard music.
193
Example 2.14 “Jaches” Missa de la domenica; Chirie, mm. 6-14, from Ca,
fascicle 2, 3; facsimile, Ca, fascicle 2, 3.
198
Example 2.15 "Stockpile" figures from the Missa de la dominica. 199
ix

Example 2.16 Anon. Veni creator spiritus; from Ve. 201
Example 2.17 Girolamo Cavazzoni Hymnus Ave Maris Stella, mm. 1-18, from
CAVAZZONI G 1543, 20v.
205
Example 3.1 Andrea Gabrieli, Canzon Francese deta Martin Menoit a
quatro voci; di Ianequin, mm. 13-20, from GABRIELI 1605a.
213
Example 3.2 Sperindio Bertoldo, Petit fleur, mm. 25-31, from BERTOLDO
1591a.
219
Example 3.3 Facsimile from GABRIELI 1605b, 0v. 246
Example 3.4 Facsimile from Claudio Merulo, Ricercari d’intavolatura
d’organo (Venice: [n.p], 1567).
247
Example 3.5 Excerpt of dialogue from Galilei’s Fronimo. 251
Example 3.6 Excerpt of Marco Antonio Cavazzoni, Perdonne moi, from
CAVAZZONI M 1523.
253
Example 3.7 Merulo, Canzon A4 Dita Petit Iaquet, mm. 1-4, from MERULO
1592.
264
Example 3.8 Merulo, Canzon A4 Dita Petit Iaquet, mm. 11-14, from
MERULO 1592.
265
Example 3.9 Facoli, Passemezzo di nome anticho di Marco Facoli, mm. 131-
138, from Gb-Lcm ms. 2088.
266
Example 3.10 Selection of cadences from Merulo’s intabulations. 267
Example 3.11 Merulo, Canzon A4 Dita Petit Iaquet, mm. 11-14, from
MERULO 1592.
270
Example 3.12 Andrea Gabrieli, CANZON deta Susanne un iour A Cinque Voci
d’Orlando Lasso. Tabulata da Andrea Gabrieli, mm. 8-10,
from GABRIELI 1605a.
274
Example 3.13 Merulo, Susanne un giour, D’Orlando Lasso A5, mm. 8-9, from
MERULO 1611.
275
Example 3.14 Andrea Gabrieli, CANZON deta Susanne un iour A Cinque
Voci d’Orlando Lasso. Tabulata da Andrea Gabrieli, mm. 42-
43, from GABRIELI 1605a.
276
Example 3.15 Merulo, Susanne un giour, D’Orlando Lasso A5, mm. 42-43,
from MERULO 1611.
277
Example 3.16 Andrea Gabrieli, CANZON deta Susanne un iour A Cinque Voci 278
x

d’Orlando Lasso. Tabulata da Andrea Gabrieli, mm. 40-41,
from GABRIELI 1605a.
Example 3.17 Andrea Gabrieli, CANZON deta Susanne un iour A Cinque Voci
d’Orlando Lasso. Tabulata da Andrea Gabrieli. Facsimile from
GABRIELI 1605a, 1r; 3r.
280
Example 3.18 Claudio Merulo, CREQUILLON. Onques Amour A 5, mm. 31-
36, from MERULO 1611.
286
Example 3.19 Claudio Merulo, CREQUILLON. Onques Amour A 5.; from
facsimile of MERULO 1611, 19-20.
287
Example 3.20 Claudio Merulo, CREQUILLON. Onques Amour A 5, mm. 25,
from MERULO 1611.
290
Example 3.21 Claudio Merulo, CREQUILLON. Onques Amour A 5, mm. 37-
38, from MERULO 1611.
292
Example 3.22 Claudio Merulo, CREQUILLON. Onques Amour A 5, mm. 26-
30, from MERULO 1611.
293
Example 3.23 Claudio Merulo, CREQUILLON. Content A 5, mm. 25-30, from
MERULO 1611.
295
Example 3.24 Claudio Merulo, CREQUILLON. Content A 5, mm. 37-42 from
MERULO 1611.
297

xi

ABBREVIATIONS

PRINTED VOLUMES
ANTICO 1518(17?) Antico, Andrea. Frottole intabulate da sonare organi

BERTOLDO 1591a Bertoldo, Spirinidio. Canzoni francese intavolate per sonar d’organo (1591)

BERTOLDO 1591b Bertoldo, Spirindio. Toccate, Ricercari et Canzoni francese intavolate per sonar
d’organo.

BUSS 1549 Buus, Jacques. Intabolatura d’organo di Recercari.

CAVAZZONI M 1523 Cavazzoni, Marc’Antonio. 1523. Recercari, Motetti, Canzoni, Libro Primo

CAVAZZONI G 1543 Cavazzoni, Girolamo. Intavolautra cioè recercari, Canzoni Himni, Magnificat
[…..] Libro primo.

GABRIELI 1596 Gabrieli, Andrea. Il terzo libro de ricercari [...] insieme uno Motetto, Dui Madrigaletti,
& uno Capriccio sopra il Pass'è mezo Antico, In cinque modi variati & Tabulati per ogni sorte di
Stromenti da Tasti (Venice, 1596)

GABRIELI 1605a Gabrieli, Andrea. Canzoni alla Francese et Ricercari Ariosi, tabulate per sonar sopra
istromenti da tasti [….] Libro Quinto.

GABRIELI 1605b Gabrieli, Andrea. Canzoni alla Francese et Ricercari Ariosi, per sonar sopra
istromenti da tasti [….] Con uno madrigale nel fine & uno Capriccio a imitatione beliss. Libro Sesto &
ultimo.

MAYONE 1603 Mayone, Ascanio. Primo libro di diversi Capricci per sonare.

MAYONE 1609 Mayone, Ascanio. Secondo libro di diversi Capricci per sonare.

MERULO 1592 Merulo, Claudio. Canzoni d’intavolatura d’organo di Claudio Merulo da Correggio a
quattro voci , fatte alla francese… libro primo. (A. Gardano, Venice, 1592

MERULO 1606 Merulo, Claudio. Libro secondo di canzoni d’intavolatura d’organo a4 voci, fatte alla
francese.

MERULO 1611 Merulo, Claudio. Terzo libro de canzoni d’intabolatura d’organo di Claudio Merulo di
Correggio. A cinque voci fatte alle francese

TRABACI 1603 Trabaci, Giovanni Maria. Ricercate, Canzone francese, Capricci, Canti fermi,
Gagliarde, Partite diverse, Toccate, Durezze, Ligature, Consonanze stravaganti Et un Madrigale
passaggiato nel fine. Opere tutte da sonare a quattro voci. Libro primo \

xii

TRABACI 1615 Trabaci, Giovanni Maria. Il secondo libro de Ricercate et altri varij Capricci, con Cento
Versi sopra li Otto finali Ecclesiastici per rispondere a tutti I Divini Officij et in ogni altra sorte
d’occasione.

VALENTE 1576. Valente, Antonio. Intavolatura de Cimbalo, Ricercate, Fantasie et Canzoni francese
desminuite con alcuni Tenor, Balli et varie sorte de contraponti, libro ptimo.

MANUSCRIPTS
Ba: I-Fmba Florence, Museo Bardini Ms. 967 ("Bardini Manuscript")
Ca: I-CARcc Castell'Arquato, Archivio della Chiesa collegiata ("Castell Arquato")
Fa: GB-Lcm, Library of the Royal College of Music, London, 2088 (“Facoli Manuscript”)
La: I-Fl Florence, Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana Ms. Acquisti e Doni 641 ("Layolle Manuscript")

Na: I-Nc Naples, Biblioteca del Conservatorio di Musica S. Pietro a Majella, Ms. Mus. str. 48 ("Naples
48")
Pf: D-Mbs Munich, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Musikabteilung, Mus Ms. 9437 (Intabolatura d'Organo
di Canzon et de Mottetti Ms.r Pietro Franceze. Scritto da me. -- "Pietro Francese Manuscript")

Tr: I-Trmp Trent, Museo provinciale d’arte, Biblioteca musicale L. Feininger, n.s ("Feininger Codex")

Ve: I-Vnm Venice, Biblioteca Nazionale Marciana, Ms. It. IV 1227 (“Venice 1227”)

1
Introduction:
Keyboard Thinking and Notating the Unwritten Tradition

Italian Keyboard Tablature: Intabulation as an Embodiment of Manual Action
Ever since Richard Taruskin’s well-known (and, in some circles, notorious) Text and Act, it has
been common to assert that Historically Informed Performance (HIP) is at its core a modernist
(or postmodernist) movement.
1
Undoubtedly a cultural product of its era, HIP has, since the
publication of Taruskin’s collection of essays, increasingly become a substream of classical
music’s main current, adopting general mentalities and attitudes of the larger culture in the
process. The assimilation is symbolically represented by the creation of Juilliard’s early music
program – with this, HIP has finally cracked classical music’s highest training institution. Along
with this, HIP’s pedagogical aims and methods have become increasingly normative; present-day
students of an early-music instrument are arguably more likely to learn by receiving established
tradition, rather than going through a process grounded in engagement with primary sources.
2

Gaps between established modern HIP practice and these primary sources are common, and seen
in polemics that have arisen from clashes between modern practice and information from historic
source material.
3

1
Richard Taruskin, Text and Act (New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995). Regarding controversy
over this text in HIP circles, my evidence is anecdotal: it generated strong – and largely negative – opinions among
my Oberlin Conservatory classmates in the late 1990s.
2
As John Butt points out, building upon a point made by Michelle Dulak; John Butt, Playing with History
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), 129.
3
See, for example, the “Basel school” of continuo playing as represented by Jesper Bøje Christensen and his
followers, the proponents of singing Bach one-on-a-part, and moves towards adopting all-gut/equal-tension set-ups
on string instruments, led by groups such as The King’s Noyse in the 1990s, and, more recently, by the Monteverdi
String Band in the U.K. All represent small sub-movements within HIP that stick to the letter of the evidence, but
are nonetheless considered outliers and even (in some cases) as pariahs by the mainstream of the movement.

2
In many respects historic notation makes a good symbol of the disconnect between the
two. Despite the rapidly increasing accessibility of historical prints and manuscript facsimiles
through Internet media such as the Petrucci library, a harpsichordist or Baroque violinist today
often seems to prefer a modern edition over a historic one. The primary reason for this certainly
lies in difficulties with reading historical notational formats, many of which fail to conform to
modern standards.
4
To be fair, HIP favors good editions: scholarly, Urtext-style ones over the
heavily edited volumes of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. However, while the
benefits go without saying, potentially problematic aspects of these editions are also worth
noting. Take, for example, Bach works such as the French Suites for keyboard or the Sonatas and
Partitas for violin. Here, the music exists in multiple manuscript copies; the editors, although
certainly working in a thorough and positivistic manner, must of necessity create a hierarchy of
their sources (based upon factors such as the potential proximity of a given source to the hand of
the composer) in order to create an “authoritative” text – one which, ironically, has no
conceptual basis in the historical era from which the music comes.
5
In addition, notational
irregularities are often tidied up, as the score must conform to modern notational standards. This
also comes at a cost, as historical notation can often been seen to transmit performance data
through its very irregularities.
6

4
http://imslp.org/ is the URL for the Petrucci library. As every working HIP musician knows, this seems to be
constantly expanding, particularly with regard to its collection of facsimiles of original prints and manuscripts.
Accessed February 16, 2018.
5
Of course, this meets the need for editions that are ultimately easy to engage with and readable for the performer.
For an example of a scholarly edition that goes in the other direction – providing more information than what may
be technically needed for performance – see Bärenreiter’s edition of the complete keyboard works of Froberger. In
the third volume, edited by Siegbert Rampe, scores are littered with charts of textual variants. The result is an
edition that, while certainly informative, is not immediately accessible for performance. Johann Jacob Froberger,
Neue Ausgabe sämtlicher Werke III: Clavier- und Orgelwerke abschriftlicher Überlieferung, Partiten und
Partitensätze, Teil 1, ed. Siegbert Rampe (Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1993).
6
See David Schulenberg, “Some Problems of Text, Attribution, and Performance in Early Italian Baroque Keyboard
Music,” The Journal of Seventeenth-Century Music 4 (1998), accessed online:
http://zb5lh7ed7a.search.serialssolutions.com.libproxy2.usc.edu/?genre=article&issn=1089747X&title=Journal%20

3
This is particularly the case for the notation that forms the primary object of study in the
present dissertation, the one used by Italian scribes and publishers of keyboard music in the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. This notation, simply called intavolatura by its original
users, and Italian keyboard (or organ) tablature by contemporary scholars (I will from henceforth
adopt the abbreviation IKT) appears, at first glance, as some sort of primitive form of modern
keyboard notation.
7
The music is presented on two staves and uses the signs of mensural
notation; the modern player is pleased to discover bar lines and rests – after gaining some
familiarity with archaic typographical features, these prints are quite readable. Once getting past
the similarities, however, the modern player begins to encounter difficulties. She is less pleased
to discover, for example, the additional ledger lines and multiple clefs. And, scratching further
beneath the surface, she discovers that some of the editorial standards are rather removed from
those of present-day editors.
Beyond surface features, such as the lack of beams for faster-moving notes (a
“limitation” of the printing technology used by the publisher),
8
a closer examination reveals even
more unusual features, many of which work to disguise the contour of the polyphony. Take the
motive that forms the basis of the imitative point in Example 0.1: it appears throughout the
music in the excerpt (and, interestingly enough, it is readily heard when the excerpt is played)
but the notational practices obscure it. For example, in the second measure it appears in both the
tenor and bass entrances in stretto, but one might not register this as notated. Luckily, Merulo’s

of%20seventeenth-
century%20music&volume=4&issue=1&date=19980101&atitle=Some%20problems%20of%20text%2C%20attribu
tion%2C%20and%20performance%20in%20early%20Italian%20Baroque%20keyboard%20music&spage=&pages=
&sid=EBSCO:RILM%20Abstracts%20of%20Music%20Literature%20with%20Full%20Text&au=Schulenberg,%2
0David, Feb. 2, 2018.
7
As IKT is frequently discussed here alongside Italian lute tablature as well as German and Spanish organ
tablatures, it is important to distinguish it with its full title, which is abbreviated to save space.
8
The presence of beams in contemporary manuscripts and later engraved editions suggest that, if they had the
technology, publishing houses would have used them.
4
intabulation is of a polyphonic work (his own instrumental canzona) for which the original
version exists. Example 0.1 also shows the intabulation along with the model. A brief
5
comparison between the two reveals the true extent to which the intabulation hides polyphonic
detail. For example, the second note of the motive in the tenor in the second measure, which
forms a unison with the bass, is omitted in the keyboard intabulation; in fact, the bass part as
seen in the intabulation is not the “real” bass part – that is, the one from the model – but a
composite formed of the model’s tenor and bass parts. If we didn’t have recourse to the model,
much of the model’s polyphony would need to be inferred.
Having access to both model and intabulation is indeed helpful; here, a quick comparison
between the two illuminates precisely how the polyphony is obscured, through what could be
described as a set of notational quirks. As it turns out, these quirks actually help to define IKT as
its own notational system with its own functional parameters and unwritten rules. Many of these
quirks – or rather, conventions – have been highlighted by scholars of early keyboard music,
although curiously their examinations have been not of intabulations but rather of “free” or
abstract (that is, model-less) keyboard compositions.
9
A comparative analytical model –
comprised of an intabulation and its model – facilitates a clear view of these notational
conventions: Merulo’s canzona will continue to serve that purpose here.
To begin, IKT’s staves represent the two hands of the player, and therefore dictate which
notes are to be playing by which hand. This is clearly indicated by Diruta, whose treatise is the
only guide to intabulating in IKT, and is seen easily in the music.
10
Note Merulo’s tendency to

9
For earlier scholarship on IKT and its notational functioning, see Alexander Silbiger, “Is the Italian keyboard
'intavolatura' a tablature?” Recercare 3 (1991): 81-103; Giuseppe Clericetti, “Criteri per un’edizione moderna della
musica per strumenti a tastiera di Andrea Gabrieli,” in Andrea Gabrieli e il suo tempo, ed. Francesco Degrada, vol.
11 of Studi di musica veneta (Florence: Leo S. Olschki, 1987). Paul Anthony Luke Boncella, “The Classical
Venetian Organ Toccata (1591-1604): An ecclesiastical genre shaped by printing technologies and editorial
policies” (PhD diss., Rutgers University, 1991), 122-41.
10
Girolamo Diruta, Il Transilvano: Dialogo sopra il vero modo di sonar organi, e i stromenti da penna (Venice:
Giacomo Vincenti, 1593); facsimile ed. Bologna: Forni, 1969). The section on intabulation is found in the second
volume of the treatise, which was published as the Seconda parte. Note that the "seconda parte" is divided into four
“books,” each with its own pagination; this will be reflected in my citation practice.

6
isolate his ornamental figures for the right hand: they are easier to play that way. IKT’s stem
direction practice is unusual, too. The stem direction of any given note is determined by its
vertical position: lowest notes always take downward stems and vice versa. In the instance
pointed out above, the Tenor a appears to be part of the tablature’s bass part because its stem
points downward, and its stem points downwards because it is the lowest note at that instance –
therefore, this practice is directly responsible for the obscuration of voice leading.
11
IKT’s
treatment of unisons between parts also obscure voice leading; for example, the unison between
the Tenor and the Bass immediately prior to the a is not notated in the intabulation, but is
replaced with a rest in the tablature’s tenor part. Modern editorial practice would use a double
stem. In general, modern practice would seek to preserve the contour of the voices; the
intabulation almost seeks intentionally to hide them.
IKT’s other notational conventions support this contention. For example, rests in IKT
don’t have much to do with polyphonic logic; rests in the model are typically left out, whereas
new rests, not found in the model, are added. This can be seen in Merulo’s canzona: a rest is
added in the right hand in the first measure of the example, and none of the rests in the original
polyphony make their way into the intabulation. Long notes are routinely divided into shorter
ones, usually with added ties. As these conventions work together in tandem, voice crossings are
completely obscured. As I will demonstrate in Chapter 1, the conventions – and the misleading
voice leading they create – form a set of new voices, partly based on the original ones but in

Diruta clearly states that the staves dictate which notes should be taken by the left or right hand,
respectively, in the first part of the treatise; see vol. 1, 4, in the section entitled “Modo d’intender la Intavolatura.”
11
As will be demonstrated shortly, this creates a composite bass line in the style of a basso seguente part in early
accompaniment practice. Basso seguente involved the creation of a composite bass line made up of the lowest-
sounding notes in the texture; the organist would fill in chords based on its motion. Like the “parts” seen in Merulo’s
intabulation, basso seguente parts are essentially unrelated to the voice leading of the original piece. Also of note is
the way that the new bass line in Merulo’s intabulation highlights the implied V-I motion, which exists in the overall
texture of the model but not in a single part.

7
essence ontologically distinct. I call these “tablature voices,” and I argue that they constitute the
musical reality that existed in the minds of c i nque c e n t o keyboardists.
12
In addition, the overall
emphasis on vertical positioning leads to a fragmentation of the music; the stem direction of a
given note is dictated by its m om e n t a r y vertical placement, its temporary function within a small
and clearly defined rhythmic space. This segmenting of the polyphony is also seen in the way
IKT continuously breaks long notes into tied short ones – another defining IKT convention. As
with tablature voices, this verticalization and segmentation of the musical texture, dissolving the
linearity of the polyphony in the process, is reflective of a mental reality that exists only in the
keyboardist’s head. Table 1 presents a complete list of IKT’s conventions.
While it is clear that a comparative analysis between an intabulation and its model is very useful

12
See Chapter 1, 67-77.
8
for examining IKT conventions, it is less clear if these conventions work in exactly the same way
in abstract music, that is, music without polyphonic models. The fact that intabulations are not
“free” but based on pre-existing polyphonic models means that they must, on some level, be
taken as separate phenomena, in that the arranger surely followed rules that differed from those
used to compose a toccata, ricercar, or an intonazione.
13
On the other hand, much late sixteenth-
century keyboard music was polyphonic in its orientation, and the notational conventions
brought to the fore in examining the intabulation process are readily seen in the abstract or “free”
keyboard music as well; this is clearly demonstrated in studies by Alexander Silbiger and
Stephen Boncella, who see the very same obscuration of polyphonic detail through notational
convention that I’ve just highlighted in Merulo’s intabulation.
14
If this overlap between abstract
keyboard music and intabulations exists – as is implied by the repertoire and inferred by other
scholars – intabulations become a very useful tool in examining issues of notation in the
repertoire at large, not just in intabulation. Moreover, the presence of these conventions in
intabulations and free music implies similar generative processes for both.
IKT’s notational conventions have been addressed previously. Alexander Silbiger in
particular has drawn attention to the differences between IKT and modern notation, although he
questioned whether IKT should be viewed as a tablature notation at all, given its use of mensural
notation over the figures of lute tablature and German and Spanish organ tablatures.
15
(This
question will be addressed directly in Chapter 1.) All of these studies show, in various capacities,

13
After all, intabulations involve translating music – to adopt the language of Victor Coelho – from one medium
into another, whereas abstract keyboard composition is surely a freer and more creative process. In addition,
scholarship in early keyboard music has not traditionally viewed the two as being on equal footing, revealing long-
standing biases against intabulations (and, for that matter, against arrangements and transcriptions more generally)
as being “derivative” and essentially inferior in terms of work-ontology. And lastly, to put it in even more simple
and mechanical terms: abstract keyboard works don’t have models.
14
Silbiger, “Tablature?”; Boncella, “Organ Toccata,” 122-41.
15
Silbiger, “Tablature?”

9
that IKT was geared towards representing performance – that is, the physical motions, or the
audible product of those physical motions – rather than polyphonic detail. As Silbiger puts it,
One way of characterizing tablature notation is to say that it provides no
information beyond what is required to realize a piece of music physically; or to
put it less kindly: tablature addresses the fingers of the players rather than their
musical understanding – their bodies rather than their minds.
16

This mentality is clearly on display in Merulo’s canzona above; the notation in left hand in the
first example simply mimics the motions that the player would go through to accommodate the
unison between the alto and bass (in fact, Diruta indicates that this is exactly how one should
execute the music in such a situation.)
17
The intabulation as a whole makes perfect sense if
viewed in this light; it represents the manual performance actions of the player executing the
canzona on the keyboard, rather than the canzona itself.
The fact that IKT’s notational conventions are clearly seen in both intabulations and in
free keyboard pieces indicates that an “intabulation” process may be embedded within the
functional logic of the notation itself. Our only description of such a process is the one found in
Girolamo Diruta’s treatise Il Transilvano, and his treatment clearly links the notational
conventions just highlighted with the process of intabulation.
18
Therefore, the notational
conventions are a reflection of an intabulation process that is part of IKT’s very being as a
notational format, as clearly demonstrated by the fact that IKT’s notational conventions appear
almost uniformly throughout music notated in the format. Differences in the degree to which
IKT conventions appear are largely dependent upon a given source – the habits of a particular
scribe or publishing house or composer – rather than on generic convention. It’s also important
to note that intabulations are arrangements, and intabulators demonstrate considerable freedom

16
Ibid., 93.
17
See Diruta’s description of intabulating unisons; Diruta, Transilvano, vol. 2, bk. 1, 2.
18
This issue is covered thoroughly in Chapter 1.
10
in altering their models in order to adapt them to the idiomatic landscape of the keyboard.
Intabulation therefore involves activities that might be called compositional: alterations to the
model’s polyphony typically include elements, such as the addition of complicated (and even
polyphonically-conceived) ornamental structures, and the reworking of polyphony that doesn’t
sit well on the keyboard, that stray into the grey area between the two. Of course, without having
access to a comparative model like the one I just made for Merulo’s canzona, we can’t be sure of
the exact procedure that results in IKT’s notational conventions in any given case, but the
consistency of their application suggests that notating a piece of music in IKT involves
intabulating. That is, intabulating and writing a piece down in IKT are essentially the same thing.
If we accept this, IKT’s intabulation process – the very one described by Diruta, although
this would presumably be conducted in a much more automatic way by a professional
keyboardist – is an essential condition to notating a work in the format. In this view, the process
of intabulation is not at all separated from notating, and the steps taken in intabulating are
analogous to the mundane acts of notating such as filling in a note head. Extending this idea a bit
further, the process of intabulating operates in an algorithmic fashion, automatically translating
polyphony into a keyboard style. IKT’s conventions both reflect and actualize the intabulation
process.
If this is the case, it would give the intabulation process itself agency that we would not
normally consider to be held by a notational format; the act of notating a piece in IKT – whether
this is a vocal work in part-books or an abstract “piece” that exists in the mind of a keyboard
composer – would require it to be altered in an intabulatory process. This process involves what
we would call recomposition – the substantial alteration of the actual notes on the page – and
writing down, or intabulating, a piece of music in IKT automatically requires the recomposition
11
of the work to sit idiomatically at the keyboard. IKT therefore embodies idiomatic-stylistic
elements that one would not normally consider to be notational, but rather compositional. This
notation – as an embodiment of both the intabulatory and notational acts used to create an
intabulation – has an agency over elements that we would normally attribute to the composer.
In addition, this means that IKT requires music notated in it to conform to certain
stylistic criteria – more specifically, to certain idiomatic textures. IKT’s algorithmic application
of these textures – its notational conventions as well as the rules that form the intabulation
process – are facilitated from a practical standpoint as well as from stylistic ones. From a
practical standpoint, IKT’s processes have to be undertaken to make the music sit idiomatically
on the keyboard. In this sense, IKT graphically “mirrors” the keyboard. But IKT also mirrors
something else: the style of cinquecento keyboard playing. Its algorithmic stylistic alterations
force the music – especially music that is conceived contrapuntally in a more abstract sense –
into a keyboardistic mold. It is for this reason that abstract music in IKT – from highly
polyphonic imitative ricercars to lighter balli – shows a general tendency to adopt similar
textures.

Notational Objections: Problems with Using Written-Down Music to Study Unwritten
Traditions
If IKT alters the music it transmits due to an imbedded, algorithmic intabulation process, this
would in turn mean that even “free” compositions would have an intabuatlory model – IKT must
be algorithimically altering something. In the case of a ricercar or toccata, does this model
essential equate to an improvisation, to a version of a piece developed in the mind of the
improvising keyboard-composer? Or, if the music is conceived on more abstract terms, is the
12
model a version that is worked out contrapuntally, either on paper (in a full score or in parts), or
mentally? In both cases, the “model” is processed by IKT’s algorithms just as the model in an
intabulation, resulting in a score that conforms to IKT conventions. The latter view in particular
is supported by the implied contrapuntal structures that are hidden by IKT’s conventions, such as
those seen in the Merulo canzona at the beginning of this chapter, or the ones highlighted by
Silbiger and Boncella.
19

In abstract keyboard music, however, would a composer simply not attempt to capture a
version of what he or she played? The conceptual overlap between notating a piece and
performing it has already been noted by scholars of sixteenth-century music.
20
Written-down
keyboard pieces, in some instances, could be seen as instantiations of a “piece” of music that
existed, in an unfixed state, in the mind of the composer.
21
In this view, even an intabulation
could be viewed not as a methodically worked-out transcription, but likewise a product of
improvisatory processes: simply a “transcription” of an extemporaneously conceived
improvisation based on a vocal model. This becomes a key question when examining the
virtuosic and highly artificioso intabulations by prominent keyboard-composers such as Andrea
Gabrieli or Claudio Merulo: are these pieces best described as improvised glosses – entirely akin
to a parody fantasia based on a vocal model – that are captured through IKT notation as

19
See Note 14 above.
20
See, for example, Stanley Boorman, “Early Music Printing: Working for a Specialized Market,” in Studies in the
Printing, Publishing and Performance of Music in the 16th Century (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2005), 230.
21
The idea of written-down works being instantiations of continually existing works in the mind of the composer
has currency in concordances between different keyboard works or versions of works from composers such as Bach
(see for example alternate versions of the Prelude in the Prelude and Fugue in A Minor for organ, BWV 543). More
recent thinking about the pedagogical function of written-down keyboard works by composers such as Buxtehude
would fit this idea as well: see Kerala Synder, Dieterich Buxtehude: Organist in Lübeck, rev. ed. (Rochester, NY:
Rochester University Press, 2007), 229. David Schulenberg has described the possible use of formulae in the works
of Bach – basic gestures and ideas, such as opening gestures. Reliance on these improvisational formulae could
produce different versions of the same work; Schulenberg cites alternate versions of the little Prelude in C BWV
924. David Schulenberg, “Improvisation and Composition in the School of J.S. Bach,” in Bach Perspectives 1, ed.
Russell Stinson (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1995), 21.
13
instantiations of an ongoing improvisatory process, or are they the product of a notational
process (as described by Diruta in his treatise)? After all, intabulation is by definition a
notational practice, and its conventions are clearly visible as a by-product of the process
described by Diruta.
Another complicating factor lies in the relationship between intabulation and
composition. If we accept that intabulation is part of IKT’s very essence as a notational format,
intabulation process becomes a key component of the compositional processes for music written
down in the format. Analyzing intabulations is therefore a key window onto the compositional
process in c i nque c e n t o keyboard music; it heightens the importance of intabulation process for
understanding this music overall.
The issues raised here also speak to the obvious need to attempt to untangle intabulation,
composition, notational convention, and improvisatory practices, all of which seem to be at
danger of being conflated. And, underlying all of these is a fundamental problem inherent to
using notation as a means to study what were primarily unwritten traditions. The entire idea of
IKT as being algorithmic speaks to it: isn’t the apparent agency held by the notation actually a
mere reflection of the true agent, the player? IKT is a mirror of keyboard playing, its notational
conventions reflective of the way that players extemporized music or spontaneously adopted
vocal or instrumental polyphony on the keyboard. If we take a given piece of abstract music
notated in IKT as the central object of the inquiry – one reflective of music that would normally
be improvised, say a ricercar or an intonazione – the argument reveals itself to be circular: are
works notated in IKT in a keyboard style because of IKT’s agency, or does IKT merely reflect
the style itself? Boiled down, this is the same type of circular reasoning that arises in any study
that is forced to use evidence in the form of written-down music to study improvised practices: if
14
we take a written-down text as evidence of lost improvisational practices, are we not at danger of
defining those lost practices by the evidence itself?
22

Keyboard Thinking: IKT as the Mindset of an Unwritten Tradition
As a means to circumvent this sort of logical problems such as these, I adopt a historically
grounded analytical mode that I call “keyboard thinking.” Keyboard thinking considers facets
such as musical style and notation to be not only interrelated but interdependent; it also
encompasses both the attempt to approach the mindset of cinquecento keyboard improvisers as
well as the analytical stance adopted towards musical texts that constitute the evidence of that
mindset. In a sense, it seeks to unify analyzer and the music under analysis, by attempting to
reconstruct the thought processes and musical conceptions as well as the actual practices of
historic keyboardists. That is, the analyst attempts to situate him- or herself within a
reconstructed framework – similar to that of the subject – in an archeological process. At its core

22 This becomes an issue in several studies, many of which seem to tacitly accept the existence of a universal
“improvised” style, and by extension, the notion that the presence of its features indicate improvisation. In his study
of sixteenth-century instrumental music, for instance, Richard Murphy establishes musical-stylistic criteria that he
describes as fundamentally linked to improvisation, and then proceeds to examine the literature for evidence of this
style. Richard Murphy, “Fantasia and Ricercare in the Sixteenth Century” (PhD diss., Yale University, 1954); 1-21.
That such an approach – which potentially, by logical extension, could cut wide swaths across national borders, time
periods, and distinct cultural traditions – is problematic seems obvious. Still the idea of universal stylistic signifiers
in improvised music is rather common. Bruno Nettl alludes to some common “improvisational” musical features on
the “microcompositional level,” although he points out that these occur in “composed” music in certain cultures.
Nettl, "Thoughts on Improvisation: A Comparative Approach,” The Musical Quarterly 60 (1974): 10-11.
Richard Andrews notes the circular reasoning problem in his study on the commedia dell’arte, a study that
– like those cited above – examines written-down (scripted) comedies as evidence of improvised practices: “In
particular we have to decide empirically, not logically, what can rank in any dramatic script as ‘evidence’ of non-
scripted performing practice; and that decision will depend largely on our having perceived features which we have
decided, in advance, constitute the ‘evidence’ which we are seeking. The argument is circular, but unavoidable: we
can comfort ourselves with the observation that most of the judgements we have to make in real life, as opposed to
scholarship, are taken on the same unsatisfactory a priori basis.” Richard Andrews, Scripts and Scenarios: The
Performance of Comedy in Renaissance Italy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 174. Andrews seems
to suggest that the problem may be solved by a partial abandonment of the positivist approach that has traditionally
characterized historical musicology. In other words, the more flexible approach suggested by keyboard thinking may
allow for insights that a purely positivistic undertaking might not.

15
keyboard thinking is holistic, in both its practical application, its theoretical construction, and in
that it considers elements of cinqucento keyboard playing – from technical elements to creative
ones, from improvisational elements to compositional ones – as united.
Keyboard thinking has parallels in recent scholarship. For example, Roger Moseley has
recently explored the “ludomusical” aspects of keyboard playing, taking the keyboard itself as a
space for musical play; in a more general sense, there are parallels here in that I consider the
keyboard – and IKT-as-reflection-of-keyboard – as a conceptual space of creation, one separate
from vocal and “paper”-based musical-creative spaces alike.
23
Keyboard space entails its own
reality, its own laws and creative parameters. Much closer to the present study, Leon Chisholm
has recently conducted an examination of the subjectively experienced actions of keyboard
playing – what he variously describes as the haptic or sensorimotor experiences of keyboard
playing – as an agent of change in music around 1600.
24

While there are obvious similarities between aspects of the studies of Moseley and
Chisholm and keyboard thinking, differences between these approaches and my own can be
found in two key areas: (a) keyboard thinking is primarily an analytical technique, intended to
facilitate the analysis of historic keyboard music by adopting (to the extent possible) a historic
mindset as an analytical construct; and (b) keyboard thinking purposely unifies primary-source
material with the application of experiential data acquired through performance. In both senses,
keyboard thinking attempts to collapse the analyst and the analyzed through an archeological
process that incorporates experiential evidence in the form of playing. The object of study is

23
Roger Moseley, “Digital Analogies: The Keyboard as Field of Musical Play,” Journal of the American
Musicological Society 68 (2015): 151-227.
24
Leon Chisholm, "Keyboard Playing and the Mechanization of Polyphony, Circa 1600” (PhD diss., University of
California, Berkeley, 2015). See especially Chapter 1, 20-70.

16
ultimately conceived holistically as well, encompassing precisely those improvisational
techniques used by the historic improvising subject, the mindset of the subject, and the written
evidence it produced.
25

The holistic approach taken by keyboard thinking is useful in addressing the problems
already cited with untangling improvisation, composition, notational convention, and
intabulation. It also helps to address the lack of extant historical evidence describing specific
techniques of improvisation in cinquecento keyboard music. A lack of evidence outside of the
musical text itself is of course not uncommon for studies of early-modern improvisation.
Specifically lacking here are any theoretical or didactic musica prattica treatises that thoroughly
and explicitly treat improvisation. The small number of cinquecento keyboard treatises, such as
those of Adriano Banchieri and Girolamo Diruta, do not treat improvisation directly; in addition,
they are chronologically far removed from much of the repertoire examined here, in some cases
by almost a century.
26

This leaves a situation in which musical text is often the primary material available in a
search for improvisation, at least if such a search is undertaken on a strictly positivistic basis.
This isn’t to say that written-down music can’t be of use in searching for lost unwritten
traditions; nor is it to suggest that studies that focus on an examination of musical text haven’t

25
This “holistic” approach is reflected in theoretical sources as well; in his tenth “conclusion” on organ playing,
Adriano Banchieri cites three qualifications necessary before being able to play: “1) To be able to sing securely with
regard to the tactus. 2) To have experience playing the keyboard with both hands. 3) To have knowledge of the
cadences and to have good ears.” (“1) Cantore sicuro, per interesse della Battuta. 2) Pratica della Tastatura in
amendui le mani. 3) Cognitione, delle cadenza, & attentione d’orechie.”) Adriano Banchieri, Conclusioni nell suono
dell’Organo… (Bologna: gli Heredi di Gio. Rossi, 1609), 24. See facsimile ed. (Bologna: Forni Editore, 1968).
26
Adriano Banchieri, L'Organo suonarino, 1st ed. (Venice: Ricciardo Amadino, 1605; facsimile ed. with preface by
Giulio Cattin, Bologna: Forni, 1969). Banchieri's treatise was reprinted three times, in 1611, 1622, and 1638; the
1611 and 1622 editions contain substantial alterations and a great amount of added material. The facsimile edition
by A. Forni reproduces the original 1605 edition in its entirety, along with the most substantial pieces of new
material from the 1611 and 1622 editions (the 1638 edition is identical to the 1622 edition).

17
been successfully undertaken.
27
The search for evidence is aided by establishing a context
formed from evidence of what a possible improvisation might have sounded like, through an
examination of theoretical sources, historical descriptions, or functional context.
Keyboard thinking adopts this sort of framework through its holistic approach; at its core,
it is an attempt to reconstruct the thought patterns, mechanical processes, and musical
conceptions of sixteenth-century keyboardists: to approach the idiomatic playing of cinquecento
keyboardists. By using the word “idiomatic,” I am specifically referring to the role of
improvisation within larger musical cultures. As described by Derek Bailey, idiomatic
improvisation is distinct from “free” improvisation, which largely continues to inform present-
day conceptions in Western art music; it is “the expression of an idiom – such as jazz, flamenco
or baroque – and takes its identity and motivation from that idiom.”
28
Rather than an
ontologically distinct activity, improvisation in this case is a simply an element of performance –
often a highly important one, but not a defining one – within a specific musical culture. The
current state of knowledge strongly supports a view of cinquecento keyboardists as “idiomatic”
improvisers: organists learned through apprenticeship, their pedagogy and art was transmitted
largely without the use of written text, and they were trained to play a specific instrument with
specific technical demands and techniques, for use in a narrowly defined functional context.
29

27
To cite two well-known ones: James Haar examines early Renaissance vocal music for traces of practices
involving improvised poetry and the recitation of poetry to formulae, and in a similar analytical vein, David
Schulenberg has explored the written-down keyboard music of Bach and composers in his circle, for evidence of
improvisational techniques. James Haar, “Improvvisatori and Their Relationship to Sixteenth-Century Music,” in
Essays on Italian Poetry and Music in the Renaissance, 1350-1600 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1986),
76-99.
David Schulenberg, “Improvisation and Composition,” 1-42.
28
Derek Bailey, Musical Improvisation: Its Nature and Practice in Music (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall,
1980), 4-5.
29
For more on a specific case involving cinquecento organ pedagogy, see Gary Towne, “Music and Liturgy in
Sixteenth-Century Italy: The Bergamo Organ Book and Its Liturgical Implications,” Journal of Musicology 6
(1988): 484-87. The few Italian keyboard treatises that treat keyboard improvisation do so indirectly; they all date
from the end of the century. Their significance will be covered shortly.

18
All of this would partially separate them from “mainstream” Renaissance musical training.
30

They were idiomatic improvisers precisely in the way a “tenorist” was, or an improviser of
descant.
31

Keyboard thinking’s holistic approach links it directly to the mindset of idiomatic
improvisors. Idiomatic keyboard playing encompassed mechanical aspects, such as fingering
and hand position; improvisation, which, within early modern practices, was certainly best
described as a kind of “real-time” composition; and the orally transmitted pedagogical traditions
of keyboard players. All of these would influence musical style, in both extemporized and
written-down keyboard music, and a holistic approach, one that considers all of the aspects
above, is therefore useful, especially when written-down music is the primary form of evidence
at hand.
32

30
That is, separate from the standard view of the singer-composer as exemplified by figures such as Dufay and
Josquin.
31
Bruno Nettl, Rob C. Wegman, et al., "Improvisation," Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, accessed
November 16, 2016,
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.libproxy1.usc.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/13738pg2
32
A model for this type of approach can be seen in the work of Massimiliano Guido.
32
In analyzing Diruta’s
treatment of improvised counterpoint, Guido ties two apparently disparate elements, fingering and counterpoint,
pointing to Diruta’s fingering and division practices as the “missing link” in his seemingly fragmentary counterpoint
method (Diruta appears to jump from simple species-style bicinia to complex four-part ricercars). Rather than
viewing elements such as playing technique and composition as separate, Guido sees them as part of a holistic
method to keyboard playing; therefore, improvising diminution (an element of embellishment) and internalizing the
sensorimotor patterns of playing scales with paired fingerings (a technical element), were used to improvised
counterpoint (a compositional/improvisational element). Massimiliano Guido, “Counterpoint in the Fingers: A
Practical Approach to Girolamo Diruta’s Breve & Facile Regola di Contrappunto,” Philomusica on-line 12 (2012):
64-76.

19
“Improvisation” in the Renaissance: An Inside-Out View of the the Problem of the
“Unwritten” Text
Through its holistic approach, keyboard thinking is intended to partially circumvent the problems
associated with using written evidence to reconstruct unwritten practices. However, on a purely
philosophical level the problem of the unwritten text will always remain: ontologically, every
piece of written-down or published keyboard music, regardless of transmission, function, or
genesis, is by definition a composition, even if we accept various degrees of “composedness.”
To what degree can a given written text be seen as reflective of improvisation?
33

In the case of sixteenth-century keyboard music, however, anxiety over the fallacy of the
unwritten text may be unmerited. Rob Wegman describes the need for the contemporary scholar
of improvisational practices to distinguish between “etic” and “emic” analytical approaches; that
is: does the scholar view improvisation from an “outsider’s” vantage-point, or from one within
the culture under examination?
34
In the case of cinquecento keyboard music, an “emic” view of
improvisation would position it as largely conflated with composition, rather than a distinct
activity that is precisely defined as either a departure from a written text or by the lack of
notation. Wegman goes on to specifically cite sixteenth-century keyboard genres as being, like
discant, neither “improvised” or “composed,” as the distinction simply didn’t exist.
35
This is also
a defining factor in “idiomatic” improvisation, as Wegman points out elsewhere, again

33
Some studies of improvisation in early music have directly addressed the problem: James Haar, for instance,
begins his study on the improvvisatori by describing two basic investigative approaches: the first involves collecting
as much information as possible on musicians who improvised (and, by extension, their cultural environments,
career activities, and so forth), while the second, “somewhat risky but possibly more rewarding, is to search for
clues in written music of the material, perhaps even the style, of the improvisatory tradition.” Haar goes on to
conclude that, “such clues exist… and they tell us a good deal, though nothing like the whole story.” Haar,
“Improvvisatori,” 78.
34
Nettl, Wegman, “Improvisation.”
35
Ibid.

20
suggesting that sixteenth-century keyboardists were idiomatic improvisers.
36
As noted above, in
idiomatic improvisation there generally isn’t a term used by the improvising musician to
distinguish “improvisation” as a distinct activity. Therefore, improvising discant is not known,
by medieval thinkers, as “improvising” – it is simply singing discant. In the same way, all of the
musical activities of the cinquecento keyboardist simply fell under the rubric of “keyboard
playing.”
In fact, there doesn’t appear to be a separate term used to delineate improvised keyboard
playing until the end of the sixteenth century, suggesting that cinquecento keyboardists wouldn’t
make a sharp conceptual distinction between composing a ricercar, playing a ricercar from a
tablature, and improvising one. As Robert Judd points out, many of the players praised in
contemporary sources did not publish many keyboard works, suggesting that their fame derived
from playing rather than publishing composed works.
37
The word “ricercar,” similar to “toccata,”
implies improvisation, in that it is derived from a verb – an action, not a thing. At the same time,
it is notable that the Italian term that does emerge by the end of the century to describe
improvising as a distinct activity in keyboard music – namely, sonare a fantasia – is one that
Italian keyboardists used less frequently as a genre name, indicating that we may have to be
careful in assuming that a ricercar (as a res facta) was a direct result of “sonare a ricerca” (as an
action).
38
Indeed, a passage from Ercole Bottrigari’s Il desiderio (1594) describes the ricercars of

36
Wegman,“From Maker to Composer: Improvisation and Musical Authorship in the Low Countries, 1450-1500,”
Journal of the American Musicological Society 49 (1996): 431-32. Wegman points out that fifteenth-century
counterpoint was an oral practice; therefore, “written” would be the necessary qualifying adjective, not
“improvised.” He also ties this to Bailey’s notion of idiomatic improvisers (see 431-32n64).
37
Robert Judd, “The Use of Notational Formats at the Keyboard” 2 vols. (D.Phil dissertation, Oxford University,
1989), vol. 2, appendix, 99-100.
38
However, it should be noted that there was considerable overlap between the ricercar and fantasia in lute music.
See Christopher D. S. Field, et al. "Fantasia." Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, accessed November 12,
2016, http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.libproxy1.usc.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/40048.

21
Annibale Padovano as “fantasias printed in his first book of ricercari,”
39
therefore implying a
distinction between fantasia and ricercar, and in a way that directly indicates fantasia as a
musical action, and ricercar as a res facta. It must be noted, however, that Bottrigari's book was
published at the end of the century; the lack of evidence from the first half of the century might
imply that there was no distinction between improvisation and composition at all.
If improvisation and composition were not formally distinct for early sixteenth-century
keyboardists, this means that written-down music by these keyboardists can be understood, on
some level, as written-down improvisations. The notion is supported by the fact that many of the
extant keyboard pieces were written for functions for which organists would normally improvise.
A short organ verset based on plainchant may have been published for organists who couldn’t
improvise themselves, and can therefore be considered to be at least stylistically comparable to
the improvised version.
40
Likewise, a short verset in manuscript could be a student’s on-paper
exercise in extemporaneous alternatim service playing, or it could be a pedagogical model
composed by a teacher.
41
All of these would, from a modern (or “etic”) perspective, be “written-

As Judd points out, the term “sonare a fantasia” is more clearly articulated in Spanish sources, but used by both
Banchieri and Diruta. Judd, "Notational Formats," 1:8.
39
“…fantasia stampata nel suo primo libro de Ricercari." Ercole Bottrigari, Il desiderio, overo de' concerti di varii
strumenti musicali (Venice: Amadino, 1594), 21.
40
See, for example, the “very easy” short versets published in the Intavolatura d’organo facilissima (Vincenti:
1598).
41
Like Banchieri’s L’organo suonarino, Bottazzi’s Choro et organo is published explicitly for pedagogical reasons;
the music contained therein may therefore be taken to be pedagogical models. See Bernardino Bottazzi, Choro et
organo (Venice: Vincenti, 1614). Bottazzi explains in his preface how his volume was intended to be used: “In
which with an easy manner one may learn, in a short time, a sure way to play Masses, Antiphons, and Hymns on the
organ, based on any kind of cantus firmus; and which treats, in the best order, several rules for intavolatura, and
gives several essential notices and examples useful for the true and perfect organist; newly discovered, and
published for the benefit of those who claim the art of the real organist..” (“In cui con facil modo s’apprende in poco
tempo un sicuro methodo di sonar su’l Organo Messe, Antifone, & Hinni sopra ogni maniera di canto fermo, Et Si
trattano con ottimo ordine alcune regole di Intavolatura, & si danno alcuni necessarij avvertimenti, & essempi
pertinenti al vero, & perfetto organista, Nuovamente trovato, e posto in luce à beneficio di chi professa l’arte
dell’Organista reale..”). Cited in Judd, “Notational Formats,” Appendix A, 124; trans. Judd, ibid.
22
out” improvisations, in that they would deliberately attempt to recreate the style of an
improvisation for practical or pedagogical reasons.

Composing at the Keyboard and Composing in the Mind: Synergetic Threads of
Renaissance Improvisation
All of this leads to a collapse of the distinctions between improvising and composition. In fact,
the only distinction between the two becomes a temporal one, and there is no reason to suggest
that processes used were not essentially the same in both – only in improvisation, these processes
are executed spontaneously. One might also note that the preparatory actions in both would be
exactly the same in this scenario. Even when improvisation becomes to be seen as a distinct
activity – for Wegman, this emerges around the time that Tinctoris makes his famous distinction
between res facta and cantare super librum – composition and improvisation can still be viewed
as fundamentally related, each one occupying a point on a continuum of shared practices,
methods, and traditions.
42
In the case of early keyboard music, many scholars have pointed out
that sonare in fantasia was basically comparable to composition, in that both were based on what
are commonly understood today as compositional procedure.
43
While we might have to take a

42
Nettl, Wegman, “Improvisation.”
43
This is can be seen in Santa María’s lengthy organ treatise. Tomás de Santa María, Libro llamado arte de tañer
fantasia (Valladolid: Francisco Fernandez de Córdova, 1565), vol 2, 12. Accessible on imslp.org:
http://imslp.org/wiki/Arte_de_Ta%C3%B1er_Fantasia_(Santamar%C3%ADa,_Tom%C3%A1s). Accessed May 25,
2017. For an English translation, see Tomás de Santa María, The Art of Playing the Fantasia (Libro Llamado El
Arte de Tañer Fantasia [Valladolid, 1565], translated and edited by Almonte C. Howell, Jr. and Warren E. Hultberg
(Pittsburgh: Latin American Literary Review Press, 1991).
Miguel Roig-Francoli points out that, while the goal of Santa Maria’s encyclopedic treatise is playing in
fantasia, his rules easily conflate with compositional procedure: “Even though the final result, which we – and other
composers of the time – call fantasia, is actually an accomplished composition, Santa Maria always sees it as a
living process of improvisation. His ‘improvisation,’ however, is completely bound by four hundred and twenty-
eight pages of ‘universal rules’ and detailed prescriptions that refer to everything from the tonal system to minute
details of counterpoint, various compositional techniques, and formal growth. What Santa Maria sees as an
improvisational process is in no way different from what we see as a compositional process. This allows us to look
at the finished product as a carefully structured and crafted composition.” Miguel Roig-Francoli, “Compositional

23
leap of faith to assume that a keyboard improvisation by Marco Antonio Cavazzoni sounded
exactly the same as the music in his 1523 print, they certainly share a common generative
process. Intabulating a ricercar in IKT is essentially similar to improvising it, and therefore,
analyzing a written-down ricercar for compositional process is akin to analyzing it for
improvisational practice.
It is important to stress that early-modern keyboard improvising would not have been
“free” but systematic, like composition, best described in the famous phrase “composing in the
mind,” after the theorist Vincentino.
44
A precise understanding of the nature of improvisation
during the early modern period has been greatly aided by an emergent body of recent research on
improvised counterpoint in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. The new research positions
improvisation as essentially similar to composition. In fact, it has significantly expanded our
understanding of exactly how complex and structured early-modern improvisation could be.
Many of the most pertinent studies, recent developments, and implications are summarized in
short articles by Julie Cumming
45
and Kate van Orden.
46
Cumming provides a brief

Theory and Practice in Mid-Sixteenth-Century Spanish Instrumental Music: The ‘Arte de tañer fantasia” by Tomás
de Santa María and the Music of Antonio de Cabezön” (PhD diss., Indiana University, 1990), 38.
44
“Comporre alla mente.” See, for example, the title of Chapter 24 in Nicola Vincentino’s L’antica musica ridotta
alla moderna prattica, Book IV. This well-known phrase, found often in secondary literature, may have been
observed for the first time by Ernest T. Ferand, “Improvised Vocal Counterpoint in the Late Renaissance and Early
Baroque,” Annales musicologiques 4 (1956): 147-48. Ferand points out the seeming contradiction in Vincentino’s
title. For a scanned copy of Vicentino’s treatise, see
http://imslp.org/wiki/L'antica_musica_ridotta_alla_moderna_prattica_(Vicentino%2C_Nicola), accessed March 1,
2017.
Ferand also points out that “The most widely accepted term, however, by which the entire practice of
improvised counterpoint became known, especially in Italy, was contrappuno a mente, or alla mente, and its Latin
version, contrapunctus ex mente, literally “mental counterpoint.” Ferand, “Improvised Vocal Counterpoint,” 140-41.
45
Julie Cumming, “Renaissance Improvisation and Musicology,” Music Theory Online 19 (2013), no. 2,
http://mtosmt.org/issues/mto.13.19.2/mto.13.19.2.cumming.html, accessed November 18, 2016. Much of this study
has taken place at McGill University, Montreal, and they demonstrate a notable tendency to incorporate practical
approaches that include experimentation through performance; many of them are also geared towards developing
modern-day pedagogical techniques grounded in Renaissance practices.
46
Elizabeth Eva Leach, David Fallows, and Kate Van Orden, “Recent Trends in the Study of Music of the
Fourteenth, Fifteenth, and Sixteenth Centuries,” Renaissance Quarterly 68 (2015): 187-227. Van Orden’s segment
– on sixteenth-century practices – can be found between pp. 207 and 221.

24
historiographical overview, especially highlighting the increasingly prominent role that
improvised counterpoint is seen as holding in early-modern musical culture.
47
In fact,
improvising counterpoint is now seen as being the most common way it was done, and, as a
result, treatises are being seen in a new light; when unspecified, the de facto position should not
be that they address written counterpoint, but rather unwritten counterpoint.
48
Also notable is the
role that active musical experimentation has played in the field, in, for example, in conferences
such as Phillipe Canguilhem’s FABRICA, Masimilliano Guido’s Con la mente e con le mani,
and in the workshops conducted by Peter Schubert at McGill University, echoing and supporting
keyboard thinking’s archeological approach.
49
The new research is leading to profoundly
different ways of looking at musical texts and their relationship to unwritten traditions. As Van
Orden writes:
What all of this means is that we can now look for specific, improvisable
contrapuntal structures in a whole stratum of secular polyphony that many of us
have always believed is close to the so-called unwritten tradition. Indeed, it raises
a question of genuine historiographic significance: is the work before you a
composition or just a transcription of a common practice? [emphasis mine].
Motets and masses are implicated here as well, for it only takes a perspectival
shift to see how compositional commonplaces, such as stretto fugues, standard
imitative techniques, and canons, related to the improvisatory abilities composers
would have brought to their imagining of relationships among voices.
50

47
Cumming, “Renaissance Improvisation and Musicology.” Cumming provides a brief historiography of the study
of Renaissance improvised counterpoint; she doesn’t mention Ferand’s important article, however, which in many
respects foreshadowed many of the more recent pieces of scholarship; see Ernst Ferand, “Improvised Vocal
Counterpoint.”
48
See Peter Schubert, “Counterpoint Pedagogy in the Renaissance,” in The Cambridge History of Western Theory
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), 503.
Although I describe this as a view that is increasingly accepted in recent scholarship, Ernst Ferand pointed out that
"from Tinctoris we know that contrapunctus without qualifying adjective was taken as indicating improvised
counterpoint”; although, as he points out, terminology remained somewhat ambiguous. Ferand, “Improvised Vocal
Counterpoint,” 142.
49
See, for example, Schubert’s McGill project videos, "Improvisation in Classical Music Education: Rethinking our
Future by Learning our Past.” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_4VPh9mRDZw.
50
Kate Van Orden, “Recent Trends,” 212.

25
This research casts new light on the nature of improvisation in the sixteenth century. In a
sense, it is cementing what has been an evolving definition of “oral composition,” a notion of
musical creation in the early modern period that is more accurate than the modern conception of
improvisation, which, as Lydia Goehr pointed out, is formulated against the notion of the work-
concept.
51
The construct of "composing in the mind" not only positions improvisation and
composition as being manifestations of the same generative processes, it also means that
improvisation could sound more like composition, and composition more like improvisation.
For example, evidence shows that improvising musicians were able to produce music of a
complexity traditionally associated with composition, not improvisation, and that these
improvised performances could be done by groups of singers. The appendix of Phillipe
Canguilhem’s recent study on Vicente Lusitano presents a list of tests given to the candidate for
maestro de capilla in Toledo; they show that the successful candidate was expected to
demonstrate incredible skill, in some instances improvising polyphony super librum while
dictating other singers’s parts through the Guidonian hand.
52
Present-day experimentation, in
real time, has begun to replicate these feats.
53
And, at the same time, written-down works –
published or in manuscript alike – could conceivably sound more like improvisations. As Van
Orden notes, contrapuntal structures seen commonly in sixteenth-century composition – and
traditionally deemed by scholars to reflect composition exclusively – could actually be
improvised.
54

51
Lydia Goehr, The Imaginary Museum of Musical Works: An Essay in the Philosophy of Music, rev. ed. (New
York: Oxford University Press, 2007), 244.
52
Phillipe Canguilhem, “Singing Upon the Book According to Vicente Lusitano,” Early Music History 30 (2011):
102-3.
53
See, for example, the McGill videos cited above; in addition, see videos by Peter Schubert showing how to
improvise canon, based on techniques described in treatises such as Lusitano’s:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n01J393WpKk
54
Or, as she puts it, “compositional commonplaces” (see above).
26
Needless to say, this has caused a profound shift in the way that scholars are viewing and
approaching the analysis of Renaissance music. Van Orden writes the following regarding
Canguilhem’s FABRICA conference in Toulouse, although her statements apply equally to the
field as a whole:
FABRICA’s results are profoundly destabilizing, for they illuminate the gray area
between written composition and oral improvisation, showing that the
extemporaneous polyphonic inventions of musicians rivaled the most valued
compositions of the day: practices such as “singing on the book” and “mental
counterpoint” might range widely from simple ornamentation a 2 or the rote
addition of voices to contrapuntally exquisite elaborations of a chant melody in
four parts.
55

In addition to redefining composition and improvisation, these studies also highlight the role of
counterpoint as a “living process,” taught and practiced extemporaneously. While counterpoint
was primarily an improvisational activity, not a compositional one, it was, at the same time, used
as the foundation for composed polyphony. Therefore, counterpoint functioned as the foundation
for both improvised performance and for composed music, but was at the same time
ontologically distinct from both.
56
The precise positioning of counterpoint is important to the
present argument. It is essential to the hypothetical reconstructed techniques described in
Chapter 2, for instance, which I argue also functioned as a phenomenon distinct from
improvising and composing – a set of underlying techniques used in both written-down and
improvised keyboard music. These techniques are posited as the basic steps in “composing alla
mente” at the keyboard, cinquecento-style.

55
Van Orden, “Recent Trends,” 211.
56
Wegman “Maker to Composer,” 440. “The noun contrapunctus, covering both, can be an overarching term by
virtue of being, not an object, but an ars, a knowledge of the rules for making and doing.”
27
The Systematic Nature of “Free” Improvisation
Keyboard thinking also incorporates experiential data: that is, actually trying out historical
techniques in order to evaluate them. This enterprise is also made more feasible by the new
counterpoint research and the evolving view of “composing in the mind.” Once the thought
patterns and mindsets of cinquecento keyboard improvisers are partially reconstructed, keyboard
thinking melds these with written evidence and experiential data to potentially reconstruct lost
techniques. The current understanding of the nature of Renaissance improvisation points to
systematic conceptions, in that rather than being “free,” keyboard improvisation – like the rules
of written counterpoint – was conducted as a series of rules and formulae. While sources relevant
to specific techniques will be treated in due course, I will here give a demonstration of what I
mean by using the word “systems” when speaking of early-modern musical thinking.
In the short article cited earlier, Julie Cumming gives a short example of how singers
could improvise a two-voice canon.
57
The technique works through limitation: rather than freely
creating a melody, the guide singer has to create a melody (or paraphrase a plainchant melody)
that can only move by certain intervals. The specific intervals that are allowed are dependent
upon pre-established features of the canon, such as the temporal gap between entrances and the
interval of imitation. Memorizing and following these rules, singers would be able to improvise a
canon without great difficulty.
Improvising a canon in this manner was only one technique used to improvise
counterpoint. In a recent article, Peter Schubert provides a list drawn from historic sources;
58

discussing four of these techniques in detail: contraponto fugato in two parts, invertible

57
Cumming, “Improvisation and Musicology.”
58
Peter Schubert, “From Improvisation to Composition,” in Improvising Early Music (Ghent: Leuven University
Press, 2014), 96.
28
counterpoint in two parts, adding two lines in canon to a CF, and stretto fuga in two to three
parts. For two-part stretto fuga, Schubert demonstrates that the theorist Vicente Lusitano
provides a method that involves the memorization of a stockpile of melodic motions; the student
would internalize these in order to possess a “thesaurus” of figures to form a short two-part
canon at any given point against a plainchant CF. Particularly noteworthy is the use of the
individual melodic intervals in the CF as loci; that is, the CF is processed as a chain of intervals,
atomized musical scenarios to which specific memorized fragments could be applied. As
Schubert points out, once the puzzle pieces of counterpoint are memorized, all that remains is
figuring out how to extemporaneously tie the fragments together.
59

Underlying all of the techniques explored by Schubert, including Lusitano’s canon
technique and the two-voice improvised canon described above, are common traits: a reliance on
the memorization of stock figures (as seen in Lusitano’s technique), or rules that constrict
interval choice (seen in the two-voice canon). Therefore, this type of improvisation is based upon
process: the systematic memorization and execution of rules or formulae. This way of working is
clearly seen in the overall structure and layout in Santa María’s Arte de tañer fantasia, which is
essentially a method for playing in fantasia based upon a long and complex series of rules that
were to be studied and memorized.
60
The nature of these rules again implies that they are part of
an overall system of thought: the use of processes that apply to specific musical scenarios, rules
that limit musical choice, and the memorization and application of figures to specific melodic
intervals.
A thorough study of the fundamental nature of these methods – not just their specific

59
As Schubert writes, “That is, given any 2-note CF motion, Lusitano has at least one solution. (Sometimes, when it
is impossible to connect, a rest is used.) By memorizing them, the singer is equipped with a thesaurus of response to
any CF motion – the adventure is in connecting them.” Peter Schubert, “From Improvisation to Composition,” 105.
60
Santa Maria, Arte de Tañer.
29
prescriptions – provides a context in which to establish plausible hypothetical ones. For example,
viewing a long CF as a chain, made up of pairs of melodic intervals, is a common feature in
improvised counterpoint; interval pairs were a part of Lusitano’s method for improvising canon,
as mentioned above. Melodic intervals were, of course, often used as l oc i in instrumental
diminution treatises as well; the player would memorize a vocabulary of stereotyped diminution
figures that could be applied to specific intervals. This type of thinking explains why the
intabulators whose work is examined in Chapters 1 and 3 seem to consider their models as a
chain of steady chordal motion – each pair of chords a l oc us for diminution figures that could be
applied to any part of the texture – and the abstract ricercars examined in Chapter 2 show
evidence of the same way of thinking.
Entirely within this systematic line of thinking is the important role of memory:
specifically for c i nque c e nt o keyboard improvisation, the idea that players had stockpiles of
“licks” or formulae – for example, particular diminution patterns – that were committed to
memory and used as building blocks in the process of playing extemporaneously on the
keyboard. This can clearly be seen in the intabulations of Gabrieli, for example (see Chapter 3).
Specific to the keyboard, many of these building blocks are conceived vertically, not linearly –
that is, as small yet intact units with pre-formed movement of parts.

Keyboard-Centered Practices of Renaissance Improvisation: A Chordal Foundation
Beyond general similarities in techniques and methodology – for example, in the adoption of
systems of improvisation – keyboard improvisation probably borrowed many of the same precise
techniques as used in vocal Renaissance counterpoint. Peter Schubert has highlighted some
specific instances (particularly in Santa María’s treatise), and, as I demonstrate in Chapter 2,
30
many of the early cinquecento ricercars, such as those found in the Castell’Arquato manuscript
collection, show evidence of the same improvisational techniques.
61
However, at the same time,
there were certainly some important distinctions as well, and it is for this reason that keyboard
thinking deliberately views keyboard improvisation as a parallel yet distinct current in
cinquecento musical practices. The biggest evidence to support a distinction lies in the style of
the repertoire itself, which shows a strong tendency towards the use of chords and chordal
structures, used in a manner that is obviously distinct from vocal counterpoint. This chordal style
permeates much of the keyboard music of the cinquecento. It is most obvious in the earlier music
of the century – that of the Cavazzoni and in the music in the Castell’Arquato manuscripts, for
instance – but it is also seen in the latter toccate and intonazione of the Gabrieli. It also can be
observed in intabulations of polyphony, which, as I demonstrate in Chapter 1, favor a skeletal
sounding treble-bass structure over inner parts. And lastly, it is seen in IKT’s functioning itself,
in its conventions and unwritten rules.
The importance of this chord-driven style, and the musical conceptions it implies,
continues to be underappreciated in scholarship on the subject. This is largely due to the
persistence of an underlying assumption that instrumental practices always followed vocal ones
in the Renaissance. Scholars have traditionally focused on the influence of vocal polyphonic
practices on instrumental ones, and the aesthetic goals and techniques of the latter were seen as
fundamentally grounded in those of the former. This attitude is for the most part reflected in
Keith Polk and Victor Coelho's recently published monograph Instrumentalists and Renaissance

61
Peter Schubert, “From Voice to Keyboard Improvised Techniques in the Renaissance,” Philomusica on-line 11
(2012): 11-22.

31
Culture, 1420-1600.
62
The authors situate instrumentalists outside the mainstream of vocal
music, portraying them as often being unable to read or write in notation, but largely dependent
upon vocal practices nonetheless.
63
This point is reiterated several times by the authors, even as
they argue that scholars have chronically ignored the role of instrumentalists in Renaissance
culture.
64

In a general sense, this stance is supported by evidence from treatises, and, to a degree, it
is valid for much of the keyboard music from the cinquecento.
65
In fact, the repertoire itself does
suggest that keyboard style became increasingly vocal-oriented as the century progressed.
Cinquecento keyboard improvisation also seems to have become increasingly like vocal
polyphony around the middle of the century, a phenomenon reflected in the stylistic shift of the
keyboard ricercar from the preludial type to the imitative type. Richard Murphy cites the famous

62
Victor Coelho and Keith Polk, Instrumentalists and Renaissance Culture, 1420-1600: Players of Function and
Fancy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2016).
63
“More importantly, it is clear from documentation as well as from the extant sources of fifteenth-century
instrumental music – Faenza, Buxheim, Pesaro, even Casanatense – that instrumentalists followed exactly the same
contrapuntal or decorative procedures that were applied to the composition of vocal music, whether they were
worked out in notation or rendered through improvisation.” Ibid., 193.
64
It is also important to point out that the topic of this section is fifteenth-century practice; at the same time, the
authors argue that the same “fundamental approach to composition was similar to the previous century…” Ibid.,
209.
In fact, if anything, these particular authors go on to stress that sixteenth-century instrumentalists –
particularly lute players – improvised less. This is perhaps a somewhat outdated attitude, as it would seem that the
expanding world of research on improvised vocal counterpoint in the sixteenth century may have implications for
our view of instrumental improvisation. That being said, the extant written evidence – from treatises and printed
repertory – would broadly support this view, even as intuition may suggest otherwise. See Ibid., 208-12.
65
Polk and Coelho cite Durán and Paumann as demonstrating that, at least in the fifteenth century, the rules of
improvised vocal counterpoint were equally applicable to instrumentalists. Ibid., 198-99. Polk and Coelho also
point out the similarity between Tinctoris’ famous method – written for vocalists – and the fundamenta in organ
tablature volumes.
A few studies have begun to explore sixteenth-century keyboard improvisation as distinct from vocal
traditions. To cite two: Massimiliano Guido, “Counterpoint in the Fingers”; and Peter Schubert, “From Voice to
Keyboard.” Massimilliano Guido’s focus is on counterpoint, which was basically vocal in its orientation, but
highlights ways in which Diruta’s technical playing guide, including elements such as fingering, can be linked to his
counterpoint method. Peter Schubert writes of some ways in vocal counterpoint was transferable to the keyboard.
At the same time, he highlights a few ways – related to the practical experience of performing on a keyboard – in
which keyboard polyphony differed from vocal polyphony. For example, he cites the lack of voice crossings in
counterpoint in Santa María’s Arte de tañer fantasia. Schubert, “From Voice to Keyboard,” 20.

32
San Marco prove, which demanded an improvised performance by the very nature of the “test” –
the candidate was given a melody chosen randomly from a service book – but required that the
improvisation take on the imitative quality of vocal counterpoint.
66
While these studies do stress
some keyboardistic aspects, the implication is that the basic criteria of vocal counterpoint
improvisation were applicable to keyboard playing in the sixteenth century.
The universal application of this established premise to the entirety of sixteenth-century
keyboard practices is, at the least, challenged by much of the music itself. It certainly seems
clear that one must draw a distinction between an idiomatic keyboard style and a vocal-oriented
one in early cinquecento keyboard music, and the less contrapuntally oriented works imply
generative processes separate from those used in vocal counterpoint. As vocal style became more
dominant in Italian instrumental music as the sixteenth century progressed, the idiomatic chordal
style never completely died out: the chord-driven style persists in late sixteenth-century genres:
the intonazione, the Venetian toccata, the balli repertoire, and so forth. It is therefore obvious
that the genres that largely adopted the musical language of vocal counterpoint, such as the
ricercar and the canzona, only represent one aspect of Italian keyboard music, and that vocal
counterpoint, while a major component to the cinquecento organist’s toolbox, was definitely not
the only one.

66
See Murphy, 42-43. That this is the case can be seen in the stipulation to "sonar di fantasia regolatamente, non
confondendo le parti, come che Quattro cantori cantassero.” Cited in Francescio Caffi, Storia della Musica Sacra
nella già Capella Ducale di S. Marco in Venezia (Venice: Antonelli Ed. 1854; reprint Milan: Bollettino
Bibliografico Musicale, 1931), 28.
Spanish sources, such as the treatises of Juan Bermudo and Tomás de Santa María, also imply that
keyboard improvisation was ideally like vocal polyphony. Describing Santa María’s treatise, Murphy declares that
“there is no real separation of ‘paper’ composition and / or improvisation at the keyboard,” and that Santa María’s
steps were equally applicable to fantasia (the preferred term for improvisation by Spanish theorists) or to
composition. Murphy, “Fantasia,” 45. Roig-Francoli echoes this, concluding that Santa María’s improvisational
method was essentially the same as composition. Roig-Francoli, "Compositional Theory," 38.
33
Cinquecento Keyboard Style and Keyboard Treatises: Reflections of an Unwritten
Keyboard Mode of Improvisation
The few extant Italian keyboard treatises from the sixteenth century lack complete descriptions
of improvisational methods, at least nothing as detailed as a source like Santa Maria’s 1565
treatise, Arte de tañer fantasia, offers for sixteenth-century Spanish music; moreover, they do not
shed much light on keyboard-specific techniques related to improvisation.
67
Nonetheless, reading
these sources within the context of the stylistic currents of cinquecento keyboard music – in
particular, the earlier, chord-driven style – supports the view of keyboard-specific generative
processes. For example, Diruta’s well-known division of counterpoint between contrapunto
osservato and contrapunto commune, although explicitly tied to compositional practices related
to the seconda prattica by Adriano Banchieri in the Cartella musicale (specifically, to the
inclusion of the faster-moving figures, derived from diminution practice, in compositions),
certainly indicates keyboard-specific practices – at least as originally formulated by Diruta.
68

While contrapunto osservato is deemed to be more beautiful, due to the fact that it is more
restricted (in the sense that it must be done in accordance with the rules of counterpoint),

67
Santa Maria, Arte de Tañer.
68
Banchieri ties contrapunto commune to the “rhetorical” approach of the seconda prattica, mirroring Monteverdi’s
famous statement regarding text being mistress of the music. Banchieri writes: “Thus it is required of a modern
composer of music in the setting of a madrigal, motet, or any other words, that he must attempt to imitate with the
harmony the affects of the text, so that in the singing, not only the composer himself can take delight, but equally the
singers and the listeners. Deny it who will, music (with respect to the harmony) should be subject to the text, for it is
the words which express the meaning.” (“Così ricercasi al moderno compositore di Musiche nell’esprimere un
Madrigale Motetto ò quali sieno altre parole, deve operare imitando con l’armonia gl’afetti dell’Oratione, accio che
nel cantare habbino diletto non solo il proprio compositore, ma parimente gli Cantori & audienti; Tacia pur chi
vuole; che la Musica (quanto all’armonia) deve essere sogieta all’Oratione…”). Adriano Banchieri, Cartella
musicale nel canto figurato, fermo, & contrapunto, 3rd ed. (Venice: Vincenti, 1614), 166, accessible on imslp:
http://imslp.org/wiki/Cartella_Musicale_%28Banchieri%2C_Adriano%29, accessed March 1, 2017; English
translation by Clifford Alan Cranna, Jr., “Andriano Banchieri’s ‘Cartella Musicale’ (1614): Translation and
Commentary” (PhD diss., Stanford University, 1981), 349. Banchieri later goes on to tie contrapunto commune to
the new figures being used by modern composers, many of which were related to diminution practice – specifically
the use of faster note values. Banchieri. Cartella, 167.

34
contrapunto commune entails only that the player must be careful not to play parallel perfect
intervals. Even this point Diruta seems to partially concede, commenting:

Some say that one can move in this way. They affirm that it has to be done in rare
cases and ask for tolerable movements. I maintain that in no way must you use
them in strict counterpoint. You can use them in free counterpoint, but only now
and then. The reason is that hidden fifths and octaves arise from the leap of a fifth.
Do you wish to see it clearly? Here is the example of the interval from ut to sol
and sol to ut filled stepwise with short-valued notes from which consecutive fifths
and octaves arise.
69

The typical ricercar of the early cinquecento is rife with parallel fifths and octaves, indicating a
common thread between earlier practices and Diruta’s contrapunto commune, despite the time
that separates them; at the very least, both are ultimately rooted in cinquecento keyboard playing.
Strongly implied is the idea that contrapunto commune is associated with improvisation: asked

69
“Vogliono alcuni, che se gli possa andare, & gli dimandano movimenti sopportabili; & dicono che se debbiano
usare rare volte; io dico, che nel Contrapunto oservato in nuin modo li dovete usare. Nel Contrapunto commune
potresti, mi di rado. La ragione è questa, che in quel salto di Quinta nasce il suspetto di due Quinte, & di due Ottave.
Volete-lo veder chiaro? Eccovi l’essempio dell’intervalllo di grado, di note negre dal ut, & dal sol al ut; nelli quali
nascono due Quinte, & due Ottave.” Diruta, Transilvano, vol. 2, bk. 2, 3; English translation by Bradshaw and
Soehnlen, Transylvanian, 2:36.
Diruta’s text immediately preceding the allowance for parallels reads “Strict counterpoint is much more
beautiful and pleasant than free counterpoint, and its beauty and pleasantness arise from these observations that I
shall now make. In free counterpoint, there are not so many restrictions, such as moving from a sixth to an octave by
a semitone, and likewise from a sixth to a fifth, from a third to a unison, as well as from a third to a fifth. We can
even move from one perfect consonances to another without contrary motion – and what I say for the primary
consonances applies equally to their compounds. The main observations are these: do not have two fifths or two
octaves one after another; do not observe contrary motion from one perfect consonance to another. Next, regarding
the use of two thirds or two sixths, major and minor one after the other, either by step or by leap, they can move
freely without regard for correct rules. You will either understand this better later on, when I shall give you some
instructions and illustrations of free and strict counterpoint.” (“Il Contrapunto osservarto è piü bello e più vago assai,
che non è il Contrapunto osservato, e la sua bellezza, & vaghezza nasce da queste osservationi, che già vi vado
spiegando. Nel Contrapunto commune non vi vanno tante osservationi, come andar dalla Sesta all’Ottava con il
Semituono, & similmente di Sesta in Quinta, & dalla Terza all’Unisono; si come anco dalla Terza alla Quinta. Di và
anco dalla perfetta all’altra senza moto contrario; & quel che dico delle consonanze principali, intendo anco delle
replicate. Le maggior osservanze sono queste, di non far due Quinte, nè due Ottave un appresso l’altro; nè anco si
osserva il moto contrario da una perfetta all’altra. Circa poi il far due Terze, & due Seste maggiori, & minori una
appresso l’altra di grado over di salto, fanno come lor pare senza haver riguardo alle buone regole, come meglio
intenderete al suo luogo, quando vi darò gl’avertimenti, & quando vi dimostrarò il Contrapunto commune, &
osservato.” Diruta, Transilvano, vol. 2, bk. 2, 3; English translation by Bradshaw and Soehnlen, Transylvanian, 2:36.

35
by his Transilvanian student-interlocutor as to whether the rules of counterpoint need apply when
improvising, Diruta states that
I do not wish to restrain you with these rules while you are improvising. But the
more strictly you play in written or improvised counterpoint, the better it will
be.
70

Diruta stresses that, when playing in fantasia, one should strive towards proper counterpoint, but
seems to forgive a looser application of the rules at the same time. Unfortunately, Diruta is not
forthcoming about any precise methods associated with contrapunto commune, instead relying
on examples to demonstrate practices. Banchieri explains that, at the time of publication of the
third edition of the Cartella musicale (1614), a complete description of contrapunto commune
had yet to be written.
71

Another Banchieri treatise, L’Organo suonarino, might allude to keyboardistic elements
of improvisation as well, although again in indirect fashion. Banchieri uses the recent
technological innovation of continuo notation to aid organists in playing alternatim in the liturgy.
The innovative nature of the system is highlighted by Banchieri’s unique system of figured bass:
accidentals placed under a note indicate raised or lowered sixths, and accidentals placed above a
note indicate the normal alteration of the third. Banchieri’s bass lines – fragmentary figurato
basses drawn from plainchant melodies – are to be used as a foundation for extemporaneous
alternatim versets. He explains that “…all organists have some knowledge (some more, some
less) of the canto figurato, but may the truth be valid, very few of them known about the canto

70
“A questa osservanza no vi voglio astringere sonando di fantasia; si bene nel far Contrapunto scritto, ò alla mente,
a più osservato che Sonarete, meglio sarà.” Diruta, Transilvano, vol. 2, bk. 2, 3. Translation by Bradshaw and
Soehnlen, Transylvanian, 2:36. Diruta reduces his counterpoint rules to four principal movimenti.
71
Banchieri, Cartella, 165. Diruta only provides two brief examples of "contrapunto commune"; these a2 fragments
consist of a line comprised of mixed note values – in the soprano in the first example, in the bass in the second –
against a slower-moving CF-style "soggetto." The examples do demonstrate "looser" counterpoint, particular with
regard to the treatment of parallel perfect intervals. See Diruta, Transilvano, vol. 2, bk. 2, 15.

36
fermo,”
72
indicating that Banchieri expects even second-rate organists to be able to improvise
over a basso continuo part; the hard part, apparently, is figuring out where to play in the liturgy,
and how to play alternatim with the choir.
Banchieri suggests quite clearly that the effect of playing from his bass lines should be
that of imitative polyphony. In the preface, he indicates that his method is suitable for all sorts of
organists, which he describes as two types:
Primarily for those play solidly, seeing before them florid melodies produced
from the canti fermi, they will be able to unfold their learned improvisations.
Secondly, for those playing without knowledge of the cantus firmus, having a
bass as a secure guide and the places for beginning, and by employing the
cadences and their chorale finales to the eight ecclesiastical tones, assuredly will
be able, with the practice of them, to succeed.
73

That imitative counterpoint is the “ideal” texture for the improvised versets is also indicated by
Banchieri’s use of multiple clefs and implied imitative entrances (in the later 1611 edition, these
entrances are accompanied with the word “fughe”), as well as by the general nature of other
published versets from the late sixteenth century.
74
At the same time, the excerpt above may
imply that, beyond lacking knowledge of the “canto fermo,” the second class of organists is

72
“… tutti gl’Organistsi hanno, (chi più, & chi manco) cognitione del Canto figurato, ma vaglia il vero pochissimi
del Canto fermo..” Adriano Banchieri, L’organo suonarino, 70. Translation by Donald E. Marcase, "Adriano
Banchieri, L’organo suonarino. Translation, Transcription, and Commentary" (PhD diss. Indiana University, 1970),
159.
73
“Primieramente a quelli che suonano fondatamente, vedendosi avanti le fughe reali prodotte da gli Canti fermi,
potranno sopra quelle spiegare la loro dotta fantasia. Secondariamente, a quelli che suonano senza possesso di
Canto fermo, havendo un Basso per sicuramente guida, gli lonchi [sic] di principiare, usar le Cadenza, & sue finali
coriste a gli otto Tuoni Ecclesiastici, potranno con la pratica loro, sicuramente riuscire.” Adriano Banchieri,
L’organo suonarino, 1; translation adapted from Marcase, "L'Organo," 111-12.
74
As Belotti points out, this makes Banchieri’s print the first example of keyboard partimento. Edoardo Belotti,
“Counterpoint and Improvisation in Italian Sources from Gabrieli to Pasquini” Philomusica on-line 12 (2012): 51.
Of course, Banchieri’s “technology” is not the ideal; later on he seems to lament the new basso continuo and praises
those who can play in four-part counterpoint, advising organists to continue to study ricercars. Banchieri, L’organo
suonarino,1622 edition, 217. These opinions are stated in even stronger fashion in a well-known passage from the
tenth "conclusion" in Conclusioni nel suono dell’organo; see Banchieri, Conclusioni, 24-25.

37
equally unable to sonare fantasia in an imitative texture. This notion is supported by a passage
further on in the treatise:
Wishing that this Art of Organ Playing may be clear to all, I will advise those
organists who do not have much knowledge of the middle parts [emphasis mine],
that the sharps and flats will be placed from time to time [accidentalmente] in
three ways.
75

Banchieri implies that his second “class” of organists lacked cognitione (“knowledge”) of the the
inner parts. While it could be that Banchieri is referring to organists who lacked knowledge of
continuo notation, it seems more likely that he is referring to those who were unable to improvise
polyphony “properly” over the basses without his figuring; Banchieri’s unique system not only
tells the player whether a given sonority has a major or minor third, but whether it should be a
5/3 or 6/3 triad as well, encroaching upon the domain of counterpoint rather than simple chordal
accompaniment. And although Banchieri might have seen his second class of organists as simply
unskilled, a more objective view might see them as simply removed from the practices of vocal
polyphony: that is, part of a keyboardistic tradition that was rooted in playing rather than the
practical or theoretical rules of counterpoint. These organists were “axemen,” not musici.
76

Both Diruta and Banchieri seem to refer indirectly to keyboardistic techniques of
improvising, even as they clearly favor the aesthetic ideals of vocal polyphony. Diruta clearly
favors “proper” counterpoint techniques; at the same time, his remarks on contrapunto commune
do allow for the possibility of a looser counterpoint, one reflective of a keyboardistic style,
rooted in improvisational practices. Banchieri particularly gears his instruction for organists who

75
“Volendo che questo Organo Suonarino sia chiaro à tutti, dirò per quelli Organisti che non hanno molta cognitione
alle parti mezo haverano per avertimento, che gli diesis, & b. molli saranno posti accidentalmente il tre modi.”
Banchieri, L’organo suonarino, 2; translation by Marcase, "L'Organo," 114.
76
One is reminded of the theorist Giovanni Battista Doni’s criticism of Frescobaldi: “so that one can say he has all
his knowledge at the end of his fingers.” Cited in Frederick Hammond, Girolamo Frescobaldi (Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Press, 1983), 85

38
were unskilled in improvising contrapuntally, but who were trained to play in a more informal
(chord-based?) manner. A less restricted style of counterpoint can be observed in much of the
keyboard repertoire of sixteenth-century Italy; even the “classical” Venetian works of Andrea
Gabrieli feature dissonance well outside the acceptable boundaries of vocal counterpoint.
77
And,
of course, the repertory of the early cinquecento is famous for instances of rather extreme
dissonance (Example 0.2). It seems logical to assume that this type of dissonance can be tied
directly to keyboard-native traditions of playing, rather than to counterpoint.

77
Diruta implicitly seem to acknowledge the role of diminution in creating dissonances (and, more explicitly, the
fact that they don’t follow the counterpoint rules regarding “good” and “bad” intervals), but excuses them on
account of their velocity. Elsewhere, however, Diruta is clearly interested in preserving contrapuntal structure when
applying diminutions (see Chapter 1 of the present dissertation). Diruta, Il Transilvano, 1:35v.
39
Also supporting the existence of such traditions is Banchieri’s implied classification of
organists based on their level of ability in the art of sonare fantasia. As Arnaldo Morelli points
out, organists were routinely classified in this area, typically in terms of their style of playing.
78

The theorist and organist Biagio Rossetti describes three classes of organists: those who could
respond well to the choir, those who could play improvised preambuli, and those who could
improvise polyphony on plainchant themes.
79
Morelli shows that documentation of organists’
prove often supports these basic classifications. Taken with Banchieri’s classification system, it
seems clear that organists existed who excelled in playing in an idiomatic manner – again,
perhaps chordally – as opposed to a polyphonic one.
Reading these treatises within the context of early cinquecento keyboard style suggests
that there was a separate mode of improvising on the keyboard, somewhat but not entirely
removed from the mainstream of improvised vocal counterpoint. However, in spite of the
freedom implied in Diruta’s contrapunto commune, we shouldn’t take this to mean that
cinquecento keyboard improvisers worked outside of a systematic framework. Such as a view is
not supported by a reading of early keyboard treatises from other national traditions, nor by the
general characteristics of improvised counterpoint in the sixteenth century. Any kind of non-
written musical practice would have been grounded in methods comprised of codified rules, just
as composition was – “composing at the keyboard,” in other words.
80
And like keyboard
thinking, that concept can be extended – in an analytical way – to reconstruct precise methods
that were not explicitly described in treatises or accounts.

78
Arnaldo Morelli, “Concorsi organistici a San Marco e in area Veneta nel Cinquecento,” in La cappella musicale
di San Marco nell'età moderna, vol. 2, ser. III, B of Studi musicologici. (Venice: Fondazione Ugo e Olga Levi,
1998), 259-78.
79
Cited in Morelli, “Concorsi,” 251.
80
With obvious echoes to Vincentino’s formulation of “composing at the mind,” “composing at the keyboard” is a
term proposed by Edoard Belotti as “a term much more pertinent to that [Banchieri’s] historical environment than
the modern and often misleading term ‘improvisation.” Belotti, “Counterpoint and Improvisation,” 51.
40

Nuts and Bolts: Reconstructing Four Primary Elements of Keyboard Thinking
The theoretical premise of keyboard thinking permits the reconstruction of techniques that might
reasonably have existed (such as the technique I call sonare a consonanze, discussed at length in
Chapter 2); here, however, I will describe four general aspects of keyboard thinking. While these
aspects are not specific enough to be identified as specific techniques like sonare a consonanze,
they go beyond abstract theory to include musical aspects of improvisational keyboard playing,
existing somewhere between the two so as to describe systematic elements. They are, in other
words, creative elements of composing at the keyboard. These primary elements are relevant to
analyses in all three chapters, relating to aspects of improvisation, notational conventions,
compositional processes, and intabulation. They are also demonstrative of keyboard thinking as
a mode of analysis, in that they are conceived holistically, grounded in the multiple aspects of
keyboard thinking described earlier: they encompass the systematic nature of Renaissance
improvisation, the specific elements that define these systems, an archeological consideration of
the underlying thought patterns and general mindset of cinquecento improvising, and experiential
data gained through trying techniques out on the keyboard.

1. A Two-Part Framework in Ci n q u e c e n t o Keyboard Improvisation
Cinquecento keyboard music often demonstrates a contrapuntal framework composed of two
elements, such as a bicinium, or a texture in which one hand plays chords and the other passaggi.
In addition, contrapuntal works sometimes reveal an obvious reliance on one or two principal
parts. This makes sense – while four or more truly independent parts can be conceived abstractly
41
on paper, in keyboard improvising there is actually a limitation as to how many truly
independent voices can be realized at any given instance.
81
Of course, this isn’t to say that
keyboardists couldn’t improvise fugues or ricercars, but rather that such improvisations had an
inherent constraint in the independence of their voice leading, with voices taking turns serving as
either prominent melodic material or as harmonic accompaniment.
82

This limitation in playing independent parts does not mean that keyboardists could not
simulate the effect of truly independent voices – in fact, this effect is exactly one of the prove
listed in the San Marco document mentioned earlier. The later tradition of partimento fugue
shows just how the careful elaboration of chordal structures might lead to the illusion of complex
counterpoint. In this scenario, the improvising keyboardist may only be considering two truly
independent sections of the texture at a given moment – namely, a bass line and a right-hand
chordal accompaniment – but the “automatic” application of clichéd ornamental figuration,
accomplished quasi-unconsciously, could give the aural illusion of complex counterpoint, in a
way almost analogous with di sotto in su illusions in Renaissance ceiling decorations. In the case
of partimento fugue, the movement of the chords is dictated by rules learned in advance: as
every beginning player learns, one of the fundamental rules of continuo playing is that right-hand
chords should move in contrary motion to the bass, especially when it moves by step. If the
individual notes of successive chords are imagined as independent parts, however, a framework
is created by which the motion of parts is dictated in an automatic, unconscious way. The
analogy between cinquecento keyboard playing and continuo practice is, of course, highly

81
This notion would match those proposed by studies on cognitive perception of polyphony. These suggest that
there are limits in this perception, and that these limits in turn helped shape common rules of voice leading and
harmony. See William Forde Thompson and E. Glenn Schellenberg, “Cognitive Constraints on Music Listening,” in
The New Handbook of Research on Music Teaching and Learning, ed. Richard Colwell and Carol Richardson
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), 475-77.
82
The idea that polyphony is ultimately grounded in harmonic frameworks is, of course, a commonplace of Baroque
counterpoint.
42
relevant – the chordal style of early cinquecento keyboard music clearly foreshadows the
development of continuo notation. And, in a more general sense, the automatic movement of
parts through chord playing has echoes with the consonant tables of Renaissance theory treatises
from Pietro Aron onwards.
83
It could even be compared to the virtuosic improvisation of vocal
counterpoint, such as that mentioned above in the trials at the Cathedral in Toledo, in that the
motion of a fundamental part dictates the behavior of other parts automatically through a series
of rules.
84

In cinquecento keyboard music, the music itself suggests that keyboardists typically
worked with a framework of two parts or elements. In freer, less contrapuntal genres – such as
the preludial ricercar, the later Venetian organ toccata, the intonazione, and in balli – it is typical
to see a texture in which passaggi in one hand are accompanied by a more or less chordal
accompaniment in the other. This texture is also generated by IKT conventions, by IKT's
alogrithmic translation process; in intabulations passaggi are often isolated in one hand, while
the other voices are arranged to make accompanying chords in the other.
The two-part limitation is also seen at work in contrapuntally conceived keyboard
composition, in abstract genres such as imitative ricercars. In this case, it is common to see
textures in which one can typically discern a hierarchy of voices based on relationships between
melodic material and the soggetto. In fact, a hierarchy of voices can be discerned at any given
moment, in that one or two voices will hold material that is melodic in nature while the other two
or three essentially serve as harmonic filler. Although in a general sense this could be described
as a commonplace for much sixteenth-century counterpoint – surely “pure” polyphonic

83
For more on consonance tables in Renaissance theory treatises, see Bonnie J. Blackburn, “On Compositional
Process in the Fifteenth Century” Journal of the American Musicological Society 40 (1987): 217-19.
84
See Canguilhem, “Singing upon the Book.”
43
independence remains an ideal – many of these take on a particularly keyboardistic flavor. This
can be seen clearly in Example 0.3.

Notable here is the tendency for the accompanying counterpoint to coalesce around the motion of
the subject. The texture is therefore dominated by this motion, which reduces the overall
rhythmic independence of the other parts. The IKT convention of writing semibreves as tied
minims (note that this is not done uniformly in this ricercar) contributes to this effect on a visual
level, leading to a segmentation of the entire texture mentioned earlier; in fact, intabulation in
IKT typically show a tendency for polyphony to coalesce around regular motion. It is easy to
imagine this section being improvised: Cavazzoni would primarily think of his soggetto and
extemporize a chordal framework around it; indeed, it is notable how easily the subject here slots
into the surrounding chords. In addition, the filler can be enlivened with diminution, leading to
the impression of counterpoint that might be more complex than it actually is. The two-part
limitation would affect an improvising keyboardist on a moment-by-moment basis; the quick
swapping of melodic parts in the texture, the clever application of ornamentation, the use of an
44
overall chordal framework, and the use of figures – quasi-contrapuntal schemata committed to
memory (see below) – could create the illusion of truly independent counterpoint.
The two-part limitation can also be tied more generally with the bicinium. Bicinia served
as a fundamental part of counterpoint practice,
85
and prominent a due sections can be found in
the complex ricercars of composers such as Padovano and Buus. It would seem commonsensical
that improvising bicinia was a fundamental part of cinquecento keyboard playing as well. As is
demonstrated in Chapter 2, the extemporaneous playing of chords – so fundamental to the
musical language of this repertoire – can be conceptualized as the “filling” in a of a treble-bass
skeleton, which is, of course, a bicinium as well. This in turn is reflected by the tendency of
intabulations to favor the sounding outer parts of their models over the integrity of the inner
voice leading (see Chapter 1 and below).

2. Building Blocks: The Use of Formulae in Ci n qu e c e n t o Keyboard Playing
Many studies of improvised musics have postulated that players rely on vocabularies of
formulae: short figures that could be applied in the course of playing extemporaneously.
86
An
examination of extant cinquecento keyboard repertoire shows evidence of a similar practice. The
keyboard ricercars of Marco Antonio Cavazzoni, for example, share common figuration, as do
ricercars and liturgical music in the Castell’Arquato collection (see Chapter 2). Figuration used
by Jacopo Fogliano appears in the later part-book ricercars by his student Giulio Segni (Giulio da
Modena), published in the 1540 Musica nova collection.
87

85
See Peter Schubert’s chart above in Figure 1.
86
Many of these are described in some detail below. Notable examples include the corpus of scholarship on
centonization in the development of plainchant and Medieval melodies; a similar body exists for jazz improvisation.
This latter field has been criticized by George Lewis; see George Lewis, “Improvised Music after 1950: Afrological
and Eurological Perspectives,” Black Music Research Journal 22 (2002), esp. 230-33.
87
Paper from the author, forthcoming.
45
Evidence also appears in music published at the end of the century, for example, in the
cadential figuration used by composers such as Andrea Gabrieli and Claudio Merulo.
Particularly in the case of the latter, the figuration is applied consistently enough to form what
might be called signature cadences, that is, ones unique to the composer. This is particularly the
case for the works of Claudio Merulo.
88
It is interesting to note that it is not only the figuration in
the top voice that identifies Merulo’s cadences; the behavior of the lower voices – particularly
the re-ut-re motion in the tenor – is also consistent. In intabulations these “Merulo cadences” are
applied over a variety of contrapuntal structures in their models, whereas the cadence structure in
the intabulation remains the same. I would argue that these cadences quite possibly represent
figures that were memorized and stockpiled in Merulo’s mind. Moreover, the consistency of the
behavior of their voices suggest that they were developed and memorized as complete
polyphonic units, each voice moving automatically (or mechanically) in clock-like fashion.
Although on surface they appear as polyphonic in their conception, the very fact that they were
conceived as pre-formed units would remove the independence of their voice leading; that is,
they would have been played quasi-unconsciously, through the automatic motion of the player’s
muscle memory.
Of course, the art of melodic diminution also played a fundamental role in cinquecento
keyboard playing. In general, diminutions appear not so much as polyphonic units but as
common melodic patterns: at the same time, the consistency of application and the recurrence of
common shapes suggests a formulaic conception, although more in the sense of being
archetypical patterns that were subject to variation. For example, Andrea Gabrieli often uses a
figure that begins with a short arch and then falls away (Example 0.4). The shape is somewhat

88
See Chapter 3, p. 56.
46
malleable, flexible enough to accommodate diverse intervallic l oc i. Also notable is Gabrieli’s
frequent failure to connect these figures smoothly within the larger ornamental line; he generally
doesn’t begin and end his figures on the same note, as recommended by Diruta and writers of
47
other diminution treatises, and his lines often include awkward leaps.
89
This implies that these
figures were applied extemporaneously, in an almost mechanical or automatic fashion.
Based on my description so far, it would seem that we might infer two basic categories of
formulae in cinquecento keyboard music: a “three-dimensional” polyphonic unit, in which the
voice leading of the independent parts is largely pre-set, moving automatically in clock-like
fashion, and linear, “two-dimensional” archetypical diminution figures. However, the two types
do not fall into ready categories: the polyphonic units can be subject to slight alterations (in
particular, it often appears as if they are molded to accommodate specific situations), and
instances can be found in which repeated melodic diminution figures are applied fairly
consistently, suggesting a conception as pre-formed units. It would be seem that both belong to
the generalized vocabulary of formulae used by improvising cinquecento keyboardists. As will
be demonstrated shortly, in intabulations these units were often applied to segments of
polyphony as links in a chain, in a way completely analogous to the way that intervals serve as
loci in diminution treatises.
In his study of improvisation in the Bach circle, David Schulenberg points to a similar
use of formulae.
90
In doing so, he attempts to draw comparisons with other established theories,
specifically to the Parry-Lord theory of oral-formulatic composition, and to the galant schemata
as described by Robert Gjerdingen.
91
Schulenberg ultimately sees the greatest similarities

89
Although most writers of diminution treatises recommended starting and beginning a passaggio on the same note,
in order to preserve the contrapuntal structure of the work, exceptions were fairly common. In fact, Ganassi’s
approach – also typical – involved treating the semibreve as the basic unit of ornamentation, allowing the player to
skip over intervening notes in the original line. See Howard Mayer Brown, Embellishing Sixteenth-Century Music
(London: Oxford University Press, 1976), 23. Diruta seems to favor the strict approach, which he calls “il diminuire
osservato,” as it preserves the structure of the composition in addition to avoiding parallels. See Diruta, Transilvano,
vol. 2, bk. 2, 14.
90
Schulenberg, “Improvisation in the Bach Circle,” 26-28.
91
See Robert Gjerdingen, Music in the Galant Style (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007). For Gjerdingen’s
definition of a schemata, see 10-16; especially relevant to cinquecento keyboard music is the notion of “organic”
development – that the schemata come from repeated use and recognition.
48
between Bach’s figures and schemata, and, from a purely musical perspective, comparisons with
galant schemata are possible here, too, although these are defined more broadly than the
contrapuntal units seen in cinquecento repertoire, which are clearly identifiable short units –
specific patches within the quilt. To draw analogies with aspects of Renaissance thought, one
could also point to the commonplace book, a link that would tie keyboard improvising to
humanist contexts.
92
In the present case, however, this might too strongly imply a writing-
dependent system; the altogether flexible conception and application suggest that keyboard
figures were developed organically through playing. Aspects of their use, from their application
in the course of improvising to their very development, might have been facilitated in a quasi-
unconscious manner. In this, the galant schemata again suggest themselves for a comparison.
Perhaps a better comparison would be with the memorized lazzi and stock dialogue of commedia
dell’arte troupes. Gjerdingen also draw a comparison between schemata and the commedia; in
fact, the word used to describe a “music student’s notebook of exercises and rules” in the
eighteenth century, zibaldone, was also used for a collection of stock elements – including lazzi
and dialogue – used by commedia actors.
93
The formulae and units in cinquecento keyboard
music seem to suggest a sort of organist’s zibaldone as well – whether this existed physically or
only in the mind of players.

92
Scholars have generally applied the concept to music in the Renaissance with great care. In the case of keyboard
music, a “commonplace” would imply certain musical figures, such as specific cadence formulations, that may have
been “collected” and developed in the mind, and used in performance by improvising keyboardists. While there be
some basis to draw an analogy with humanist commonplace traditions, I do not intend to draw a specific
comparison. For more on Renaissance music and commonplaces, see Peter Schubert, “Musical Commonplaces in
the Renaissance,” in Music Education in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, ed. Russell Eugene Murray, Susan
Forscher Weiss, and Cynthia J. Cyrus (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2010), 161-92.
93
Gjerdingen, Music in the Galant Style, 10.
49
3. Chains of Chunks: Segmentation and the Visceral Experience of Keyboard Playing
Both intabulations and the abstract music examined in Chapter 2 demonstrate a musical
conception that is grounded in a segmentation of the music into short, regular units; in this
conception, a longer melody such as a cantus firmus – or, for that matter, an entire polyphonic
complex – is viewed as a series of units, each one linked to the next as in a chain. This mode of
thinking is also seen in both Renaissance counterpoint treatises and in instrumental diminution
treatises. In the case of the latter, the student is taught to memorize figuration to apply to
individual intervalic loci; a longer melody is considered as a series of loci over which stockpiled
figuration can be applied.
94

Leon Chisholm describes a similar phenomenon in intabulations, which he links to the
psychological theory of “chunking.”
95
Chisholm describes a keyboard-driven musical conception
of rhythmic division, one grounded in the haptic perception of playing, that differs from the
normal tactus that governs vocal polyphony. For Chisholm, the physical motion of the player’s
hands divides the music into “hierarchical units,” or, as he calls them, chunks:
the haptic node of the downward motion of the hands onto the keyboard that serves
as a visceral anchor for chunking. Moreover, the chunks themselves as temporal
units tend to be global in nature: they comprise the motions of all the fingers and
both hands, and all the musical material they play within a short stretch of time.
96

These chunks are to be seen as embodied by the player – viscerally experienced through the act
of playing on the keyboard – as opposed to conceived abstractly or as a force dictated from
outside.

94
For general introductions, see the classic text Brown, Embellishing Sixteenth-Century Music, as well as Bruce
Dickey’s “Ornamentation in Early Seventeenth-Century Italian Music,” in A Performer’s Guide to Seventeenth-
Century Music, 2nd ed., ed. Stewart Carter, rev. and ed. Jeffery Kite-Powell (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana
University Press, 2012), 293-316.
95
Chisholm, “Mechanization,” 63-68.
96
Ibid., 68.
50
Chisholm’s formulation is particularly useful in its global conception, comprising “the
motion of all the fingers and both hands.” This helps explain the tendency of voices to coalesce
around rhythmic centers, seen in Cavazzoni’s ricercar above, as well as in intabulations in IKT
generally. However, Chisholm’s theory is slightly in danger of removing cinquecento keyboard
playing from broader historical contexts. After all, cinquecento keyboardists worked as part of an
overall culture of music-making, within larger systems of that entailed shared musical
conceptions. In fact, the segmentation seen in keyboard music is not at odds with larger trends
towards segmenting larger musical structures; I have already mentioned the tendency as seen in
diminution treatises as well as in counterpoint treatises. The chunking theory therefore adds the
subjective experiences of keyboard playing to this larger paradigm, creating a musical
conception that encompasses the mechanical techniques that were taught to improvising
keyboardists in addition to broader mindsets and musical conceptions.

4. Towards A Structural Model of Ornamentation in Ci n q u e c e n t o Keyboard Playing:
Improvising on a Model
Intabulations in IKT can range from being largely undecorated – simple transcriptions of their
polyphonic models – to highly elaborate adaptions that incorporate extensive ornamentation. In
addition, the application of this ornamentation often merits the substantial reworking or
recomposition of the model’s polyphony; intabulations like this might justifiably be labeled as
imitatio works as opposed to “simple” transcriptions. In addition, some intabulations are
distinguished by the fact that they ignore the formal structures of their models. These are best
described as fantasias that incorporate motives, melodic material, or even particular contrapuntal
complexes from their models but are essentially free fantasie: this description best fits the
51
intabulations of the Cavazzoni as well as Andrea Gabrieli’s parody ricercars on vocal models.
Through his use of the term ricercar to identify these works, Gabrieli indicates that these are
generically distinct from intabulations. In fact, they immediately follow “traditional”
intabulations in his prints, and indeed, they are essentially imitative ricercars, each new imitative
point based on a motive drawn from the model. The intabulations of the Cavazzoni are not
labeled as anything but as the title of the model – standard practice for intabulations – but they
are actually free fantasie based on the model’s material, which is usually referred to loosely and
infrequently. In addition, they essentially ignore the music’s formal structures.
97

The complexity of this situation invites a more holisitically conceived approach. Leon
Chisholm has recently questioned whether fidelity to the vocal model in an intabulation is even
important, although it seems unnecessarily reductive to ignore the categorical distinction implied
by the existence of intabulations that generally follow their models’ structures and those that
don’t.
98
The holistic approach suggested by keyboard thinking may unify the two in a more
practical way, however, by simply suggesting that the creative process may be the same for both,
reducing the importance of fidelity but not eliminating it. This is especially the case if the
creative process is considered to be essentially improvisational in nature. A keyboard-composer
improvising a gloss on a vocal model – without having the model on paper in front of him but

97
A similar situation exists in lute music. Scholars have pointed to the influence of vocal models on "free" fantasie.
See, for example, Stefano Mengozzi, “Is this Fantasia a Parody? Vocal models in the Free Compositions of
Francesco da Milano,” Journal of the Lute Society of America 23 (1990): 7-17. For a general brief introduction to
this field of research see, Victor Coehlo, “Revisiting the Workshop of Howard Mayer Brown: [Josquin’s] Obsecro
te domina and the Context of Arrangement,” in 'La musique, de tous les passetemps le plus beau...': Hommage à
Jean-Michel Vaccaro, vol 1. of Domaine musicologique: Collection d’études 19 (Paris: Klincksieck, 1998), 47-65.
98
See Chisholm’s analyses of Marcantonio Cavazzoni’s intabulation of Josquin’s Plusieurs regretz and Andrea
Gabrieli’s intabulation of Willaert’s Qui la dira. Chisholm, “Mechanization,” 27-47. Chisholm criticizes Martin
Picker’s analysis of the first intabulation for relying too heavily on textual considerations; in addition, Chisholm
minimizes the fact that Gabrieli’s intabulation relies on its model’s formal structure whereas Cavazzoni’s essentially
ignores it. Instead, he focuses on the fact that both dissolve key structure features within the counterpoint,
specifically the use of canonic structures in both chansons.
52
rather in his head – would certainly rely on the same processes used to improvise a ricercar or
toccata: the use of an internalized vocabulary of figuration as building blocks, the conceptual
reduction of the model to a chain, and so forth.
Seeing intabulating as a process akin not to composition but rather to improvisation
would explain why some intabulations rely on the model’s structure and why some don’t. For
example, the use of formulae and other improvisational techniques could diminish any reliance
on the model’s structure. That these figures were used is supported by the written-down
evidence: identical figuration is seen, for example, in both free works and intabulations.
99
In the
case of the Cavazzoni, the application of these figures is typically used to create long sequences.
These sequences could easily distort the model, and, if taken to an extreme, their application – in
the course of playing extemporaneously – could result in a lack of fidelity to its structure. Even
in the later intabulations of Gabrieli and Merulo, for example, one sees minor instances in which
the logical follow-through of a figuration temporarily distorts the structure of the model. As I
argue in Chapter 3, the eventual conceptual distinction between the intabulations that faithful to
the model’s structure and those that aren’t has more to do with a shift in the musical activities of
the keyboard-composer; it reflects the growing influence of a writing-based intabulation process,
which in turn is concomitant to a desire on the part of the intabulator-composer to demonstrate a
specific type of musical knowledge to a particular reading public.
It is once again important to stress that, in keyboard playing, these stockpiled formulae
are not conceived linearly, but polyphonically – short units that comprise certain contrapuntal (or
quasi-contrapuntal) motions that tend to be integrated. This view in turn helps establish a model

99
Silbiger has already pointed out the strong relationships between abstract works such as the toccata and
intabulations. Alexander Silbiger, “From Madrigal to Toccata: Frescobaldi and the seconda prattica,” in Critica
musica: Essays in honor of Paul Brainard, Musicology 18 (Amsterdam: Gordon and Breach, 1996), 403-28.
Silbiger cites Diruta’s famous quote, “le Toccate sono tutte Diminutioni.” Ibid., 406.
53
for analyzing the role of ornamentation and improvisation in cinquecento keyboard music.
Traditional views of instrumental music in the Renaissance and early Baroque have tended to
delineate layers of ornamental material: in general one talks about the underlying structure of a
piece, a layer (or various layers) of surface embellishment, and so forth.
100
However, a careful
analysis of a complex intabulation – such as those by Merulo and Gabrieli – shows that activity
in the two layers affect each other, in that activity in one voice necessitates the reworking of
material in other voices; that is, longer notes on the “structural” layer are often altered due to the
influence of notes on the embellished level. In addition, it is also typical to see faster-moving
notes in the model – part of what might be called the model’s ornamental layer – reduced to a
skeleton to be used to generate new keyboard ornamentation. This suggests a double-column
model of layers, one that includes structural and ornamental layers for both model and
intabulation, and allows for influence to flow in multiple directions (see Figure 1). As both the
fantasia sopra-style works and intabulations often keep elements of the ornamental layer of the
model, or even use elements thereof for development, this layer remains an important part of the
model. Adding further complexity to this are the role of the polyphonic formulae, which
encompass elements of both structural and ornamental keyboard layers; therefore, when these
figures are superimposed upon the polyphony of the model, they force the alteration of notes on
both the model’s structural and keyboard layers. In this conceptual model of ornamental layers,

100
This way of thinking is rooted in traditions such as counterpoint, in its division between simple and florid types,
and in embellishment manuals, which typically teach the student to “reduce” their model to an underlying skeleton.
See the description of Ganassi’s method in Note 93 above.
54
all layers or elements have the ability to affect each other, although of course the general flow
remains from model to intabulation; however, if intabulations are viewed as instantiations of
continuously existing improvisations in the head of the player, it is easy to conceive of things
flowing in the other direction as well. Although an abstraction, the model works to explain many
of the musical phenomena seen in intabulations as well as free pieces based on vocal works. In
fact, it may help explain the two as ultimately deriving from the same generative processes.

Scope and Limitations of the Present Study
The conceptual core of the present study lies in the analysis of the extant body of intabulations in
IKT with models. The examination of these intabulations is used to formulate broader thoughts
on notation, improvisation, and composition, and on connections between all three. In particular,
these analyses are used to offer new perspectives on IKT’s functioning as a notational system;
55
these in turn largely shape the remainder of the study. The use of intabulations to study
notational functioning sets this study apart from prior examinations of IKT, in that these focused
on IKT more generally, and, in terms of analytical focus, tended to gravitate towards abstract
works as opposed to intabulations.
101
Intabulations with models are adopted here for several
practical reasons as well. For one, they offer a precisely defined corpus of music that limits the
scope of the study, in a way that facilitates a thorough examination. In addition, the particular
mode of analysis – comparing intabulation and model – allows for a precise observation of IKT
functioning.
102

While the chronological scope of the study generally encompasses the entire extant body
of music notated in IKT, a few limitations are applied. First, I end my survey around 1620. This
is because intabulations of vocal and instrumental polyphony become less prominent in the early
Baroque.
103
Secondly, whereas in Chapter 1 and 3 the focus is on intabulations, in Chapter 2 I
examine abstract keyboard music as a locus for the development of IKT’s conventions, chiefly
the ricercar and liturgical music in the ricercar style found in prints and manuscripts to about
1550. The reason for this particular cut-off date is (a) to limit the scope of the chapter, and (b)
because I argue that it is precisely in this early-to-mid-cinquecento repertoire that the origins of
IKT conventions are to be found. The adoption of this date is also supported by the repertoire, in
the shift in the keyboard ricercar as a largely chordally conceived genre to one largely based
upon the language of imitative polyphony. This shift in the keyboard ricercar occurs alongside

101
This is especially the case for Silbiger (“Tablature”) and Boncella (“Classical Venetian Organ Toccata”).
102
As mentioned earlier, although certain caveats must remain, especially with regard to important generic
differences between intabulations and abstract works, the shared presence of IKT conventions suggest that the
intabulation process is relevant to both intabulations and free works, and, indeed, to all music notated in the format.
103
Alexander Silbiger, Italian Manuscript Sources of Seventeenth Century Keyboard Music (Ann Arbor, MI: UMI
Research Press), 38.

56
the development of the so-called instrumental part-book ricercar in the 1540s, a genre also
largely based on imitative polyphony.
104

The dissertation is structured in the following way: in Chapter 1, I examine the
conventions that define IKT as a notional convention, demonstrating that in a broad sense they
function as a uniform system in extant prints and manuscripts, although small distinctions remain
from source to source. In general, IKT behavior remains consistent within any given source,
demonstrating that printing houses and scribes follow general tendencies. The purpose of
Chapter 1 is to establish IKT’s functioning as a notational format, with a focus on its notational
conventions, and to make the case for the format as a “mechanical” notation, directly tied to the
instrument and the act of playing it. This latter point is important, as scholars have questioned its
classification as a tablature notation at all.
105
The function of this chapter in the dissertation as a
whole is largely to establish a groundwork for subsequent chapters: therefore, Chapter 2, which
argues that IKT’s history was rooted in improvisation, builds upon observations of IKT’s nature
in Chapter 1. The central thesis of Chapter 3 – that Italian keyboard-composers and publishers
practiced a sort of “self-fashioning” by exploiting IKT’s notational conventions – is also rooted
in the parameters established in the first chapter. The fact that IKT’s notational conventions are
irregular has been well established by prior scholars, most directly by Silbiger, Clericetti, and

104
The first book of instrumental part-book ricercars, Pozzo’s 1540 collection Musica nova, is quickly followed by
Girolamo Cavazzoni’s first book of intabulated keyboard music (1543), which contains four imitative ricercars.
Musica nova accommodata per cantar et sonar sopra organi et altri strumenti /composta per diversi
eccellentissimi musici (Venice: Pozzo, 1540). For a modern edition, see Musica nova: ricercari, ed. Liuwe
Tamminga, Tasture 3 (Colledara: Andromeda Editrice, 2001). Girolamo Cavazzoni, Intavolatura cioe. recercari
canzoni himni..libro primo (Venice: B.V. 1543); facsimile copy provided by the Museo Internazionale e Biblioteca
della Musica di Bologna.
105
IKT’s basic similarity to modern keyboard notation, and to contemporaneous French and English systems, led
authors such as Willi Apel to express skepticism about cinquecento use of the word “tablature.” Willi Apel, The
Notation of Polyphonic Music 900-1600, 5th edition (Cambridge, MA: Medieval Academy of America, 1953), 14-
15.

57
Boncella.
106
Many of these writers – especially Alexander Silbiger – question whether IKT is
really a tablature notational at all.
107
A precise definition of IKT and its nature is therefore
paramount; indeed, it is the central argument of this chapter.
As described above, IKT uses mensural notation but demonstrates conventions that are
conceptually similar to those in other tablature notations. It is precisely this conceptual
dissonance that has led to an ambiguous understanding of IKT’s nature. I situate the notation
squarely in the latter category, arguing that it was conceived by sixteenth-century musicians and
publishing houses as a tablature notation, in that it represents physical aspects of the keyboard; in
fact, conceptually speaking, it is a graphical reflection of the keyboard, just as the lines in lute
tablature are graphical reflections of the instrument’s strings. Therefore IKT is mimetic, but on
multiple levels. On the one hand it represents the keyboard as a physical object; on the other
hand, it also represents a performance on a keyboard. In this latter conception, the player of a
piece in IKT becomes the mechanical means by which an encoded performance is realized, or
recreated.
108
Intabulations are, as Victor Coehlo said (paraphrasing Howard Mayer Brown), “the
closest things to Renaissance performances ‘frozen’ in time, revealing how music in the
sixteenth century actually sounded, as opposed to how it looked on paper.”
109
On another level,
tablature can function on a purely visual level as well, displaying the image of an idealized

106
Silbiger, “Tablature?”; Clericetti,“Criteria”; Boncella,“The Classical Venetian Organ Toccata.”
107
Noting that “to our mind Italian keyboard notation does provides [sic] a better representation of the music than
lute tablatures or German keyboard tablatures, and furthermore, the characteristic tablature features were gradually
replaced by a more polyphonic notation,” Silbiger writes, “Maybe we should just say that Italian intavolatura is in
certain respects more tablaturish than later keyboard notation.” Silbiger, “Tablature”: 93-94.
108
In this sense, I would argue that the notation was perhaps close to being prescriptive rather than descriptive; one
could even argue that tablature notations are unique in early-music notation for having this quality, although one
must obviously be cautious in how far one would apply this argument. See Bruce Haynes, The End of Early Music
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007): 103-104.
Nikolaus Harnoncourt makes a distinction between “work” notation and “performance” notation as basic
principles of notation, noting that tablatures are an early example of “performance” notation. Harnoncourt, Baroque
Music Today: Music as Speech, trans. Mary O’Neill (Portland, OR: Amadeus Press, 1995), 29.
109
Victor Coehlo, “Revisiting,” 51.

58
performance, therefore serving as a visual “recording” of a performance. An understanding of
tablature in this sense can be discerned in Vincenzo Galilei’s well-known lute treatise Fronimo:
musical examples in tablature are often presented as “sounding images,” appearing immediately
after an interlocutor announces that he will play an example. The tablatures are to be understood
aurally, as performance.
110

In Chapter 1, I also attempt to establish the degree to which IKT’s notational conventions
can be taken as standard practice in extant printed volumes and manuscript sources notated in
IKT. The purpose of this is to (1) address the degree to which IKT was an implicitly understood
“system” of notation, by scribes and publishing houses alike; (2) to examine the degree to which
IKT should be understood as a product of printing technologies and conventions; and (3) the
degree to which its conventions can be used to formulate a larger theory describing its
relationship to keyboard playing. The first point is important as prior scholarship on IKT has
gravitated towards printed volumes, not manuscripts. A greater understanding in this area is of
particular interest as the relationship between print and manuscript cultures in the Renaissance –
on both practical and cultural grounds – is broader than might be assumed. For example, many
scholars have argued that early-modern print culture was akin to manuscript culture, particularly
in areas of reception and function, but also in matters of production.
111
The relationship between
print and manuscript cultures in the Renaissance is also a key question for this study; it is

110
Vincenzo Galilei, Il Fronimo (Venice: Scotto, 1584). It is almost as if Galilei was searching, on some level, for
the technological means to have an image play upon clicking it, as if it were a web page with embedded audio files.
111
This is a common theme in the work on Renaissance music publishing by Stanley Boorman; for example, see the
essays “Petrucci's Type-Setters and the Process of Stemmatics” and “Printed Music Books of the Italian Renaissance
from the Point of View of Manuscript Study,” in the volume Studies in the Printing, Publishing, and Performance of
Music in the 16th Century (Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing, 2005).
Also see Jane Bernstein’s Print Culture and Music in Sixteenth-Century Venice (Oxford and New York:
Oxford University Press, 2001); especially pp. 31 and 74.

59
important to establish whether IKT should be viewed largely as a product of print technology, or
as an extension of common scribal practices.
112

In the second chapter I build upon the connection between IKT and keyboard playing
demonstrated in Chapter 1. Specifically, I attempt to locate the origins of IKT as a notational
system within the unwritten tradition, arguing for a direct link between the particular conventions
of IKT and cinquecento techniques of organ improvisation. The music investigated in this
chapter is limited to the first half of the sixteenth century, roughly half of which is found in
manuscript.
113
The purview of the study includes a thorough examination of organ pieces and
fragments in the well-known Castell’Arquato manuscripts, in addition to music from printed
volumes by Marco Antonio and Girolamo Cavazzoni. Focusing primarily on liturgical pieces
based on plainchant melodies, I propose a hypothetical chord-based method of harmonizing
plainchant as an underlying framework for alternatim versets and other music for the liturgy.
While the small amount of material from Italian treatises that deal with organ improvisation does
not directly support the existence of such a method, my thesis does draw support from evidence
in three areas: (1) Spanish keyboard treatises (primarily Sancta María’s Arte de tañer fantasia),
(2) recent research on improvised counterpoint, and (3) a thorough analysis of Italian liturgical
keyboard music in both manuscript and print sources.
As part of his encyclopedic treatise on “playing in fantasia,” the Spanish theorist Sancta
María describes a method of harmonizing short motives (“passos”) with “consonances”; a motive

112
These two areas may overlap considerably. In Venice, the nature of print culture led to a treatment of prints as
manuscripts; this is fundamental to my reading of volumes of intabulation and self-fashioning in Chapter 3, as the
notion of a “performance identity” being established through notation relies on the reception of these volumes in an
intimate and tight-knit musical culture. For example, Claudio Merulo dedicated a reprint of Verdelot’s first and
second books of madrigals to a patron, in a way perhaps suggestive of a presentation manuscript. See Bernstein,
Music Printing, 74.
113
This music makes for its own distinct school, with its more characteristic genre being the so-called preludial
ricercar.

60
harmonized in this way produces a series of triads, in what we would today call root position or
first inversion, in a falsobordone-like homophonic texture.
114
This is very similar to textures
commonly observed in cinquecento liturgical organ music, opening the door of possibility to the
existence of a method like Sancta María’s being used by Italian organists. In addition, Sancta
María’s treatise can now be contextualized within the exciting new field of research on
improvised vocal counterpoint described earlier. Treatises that had been traditionally been
viewed as describing written counterpoint are now seen as equally relevant to improvised
counterpoint, allowing for the reconstruction of several methods of historical improvisation. This
allows for a fruitful comparative analysis between Sancta María’s method – and the
hypothesized Italian version of it – and the systems of improvised vocal counterpoint in the
Renaissance.
Together, this all provides a contextual framework for a careful analysis of the music
itself. A thorough comparative analysis of sixteenth-century Italian chant-based liturgical music
reveals some notable similarities. Analysis of this music suggests the possibility of an underlying
chord-driven system of harmonization, which could be used as scaffolding for more complicated
textures and contrapuntal structures. Again, this hypothetical system can be plausibly
reconstructed through comparison to known systems of improvisation in Renaissance
counterpoint, many of which have been recently reconstructed and practically demonstrated.
115

In Chapter 3, I argue that, based on the tendency of some intabulations to favor fidelity to
their polyphonic models, and others to allow the rules of IKT to hide detail, intabulations can
demonstrate a type of musical “self-fashioning.” Due to its “hybrid” nature – IKT used mensural

114
“Playing in consonances” occupies a major part of Santa María’s second book; Santa María, Arte de tañer
fantasia.
115
See the YouTube videos of workshops led by Peter Schubert cited above.
61
notation signs but conventions similar to lute tablature – IKT allowed arrangers to subvert its
notational conventions to show details of polyphonic structure that were ordinarily hidden
through the intabulation process. Naturally, this tendency could extend into elements of
arrangement, such as the recomposition or revoicing of brief passages, or the application of
ornamentation: the intabulations that don’t transmit polyphonic detail are more prone to feature
the rearrangement (or the recomposition) of polyphonic structures in their models, whereas the
intabulations that strive to preserve the original polyphonic structures tend to avoid
recomposition, even preserving structures that are wholly unidiomatic for the keyboard. The
argument is grounded in the notion that, essentially, IKT strove to represent graphically both the
act and aural effect of performance; it was, in a sense, mimetic, and can even be read as an
attempt at capturing a keyboard performance through the technology of printing. The player of
the tablature would in essence replicate the performance mechanically, through the precise
execution of the notation. In this way, one could “hear” a virtuosic organist such as Claudio
Merulo “play” through the print. At the same time, IKT functioned as music for the eye as well:
instances in which intabulators attempt to preserve polyphony demonstrated to the player/reader
that the intabulator understood the musical structure of the model, specifically the art of
counterpoint and composition. I establish these two tendencies as two basic categories of
intabulations: sounding images and dotte partiture.
My thesis is developed in the following manner: I begin by establishing my use of the
term self-fashioning, appropriating it from its origins in literary theory and comparing my use
with that in other musicological studies that adopt versions of self-fashioning theory for the
analysis of Renaissance music.
116
I then establish the social conditions necessary for a theory of

116
See, for example, Susan McClary, Modal Subjectivities: Self-Fashioning in the Italian Madrigal (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 2004).
62
self-fashioning among organists in Venice. This primarily involves an examination of the
reception of organ prints in Venetian print culture. Building partly upon studies such as Martha
Feldman’s on print culture and networks of patronage in Venice,
117
I examine data from specific
printed volumes (such as dedications) to situate them within networks of patronage or within
specific intellectual and social contexts, such as academies,
118
establishing the social and cultural
climates in which keyboardists would self-fashion through their published intabulations, as well
the specific role of keyboardists and keyboardism within Venetian intellectual circles.
119
This
data also includes a survey of biographical material for cinquecento keyboardists.
Having established the social climate for self-fashioning in their immediate Venetian
context, I then situate these printed intabulations within a wider context of keyboard music in
sixteenth- and early seventeenth-century Italy, examining partiture alongside music transmitted
in IKT. In particular, I look at the music of the so-called Neapolitan-Roman school (including
the keyboard and harp composers Giovanni da Macque, Ascanio Mayone, and Giovanni Maria
Trabaci), demonstrating how manuscript pieces (which can be found in both partitura and IKT)
demonstrate evidence of improvisation, while printed works demonstrate self-fashioning.
120
In
particular, the printed volumes of Mayone and Trabaci (notated in partitura but with music that
demonstrates clear stylistic hallmarks of keyboard playing) exploit the medium of partitura to

117
Martha Feldman, City Culture and the Madrigal at Venice (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1995).
Another methodological model for the present study is Cristle Collins Judd’s Reading Renaissance Music Theory,
particularly Chapter 7, which looks at Zarlino’s reception in Venetian print culture.
118
Bernstein notes the close relationship between printing houses in Venice and academies; see Bernstein, Music
Printing, 15. In addition, many keyboardist-composers were associated with academies. See, for example, Claudio
Veggio’s role in Doni’s famous Dialogo; see Slim, “Puzzling Intabulations,” 39.
119
The San Marco organist Girolamo Parabosco appears frequently in Feldman’s study (often in his role as literato
rather than as composer or keyboardist); Parabosco was a frequent visitor to Venier’s academy, along with other
Willaert students. See Feldman, City Culture, 97.
120
Another interesting area of inquiry is the potential connections between the Neapolitan printed volumes and the
music of Venetian keyboardists. Bernstein shows that Venetian printers had a market presence in Naples, and
Trabaci and Mayone’s arrangements of Ferrabosco’s Io mi son giovenetta demonstrate similarities to Andrea
Gabrieli’s intabulation. See Bernstein, Music Printing, 86-88.

63
reveal contrapuntal complexity; Trabaci’s Libro secondo even provides indications in the scores
of the ricercars to alert the reader to instances of particular complexity, such as the use of learned
devices such as inganno and the combination of multiple subjects.
121
Interestingly, these printed
volumes do not seem intended to be easily played, with a lack of vertical alignment between
parts; in fact, as notated they are difficult if not impossible to play on a keyboard instrument,
despite the fact that Trabaci assures the reader that all of his works – even those written for the
harp – can be played on harpsichord “con facilità.”
122
In addition, the connection to the Roman-
Neapolitan school goes beyond notational issues. Scholars have recently examined both partiture
and musical complexity as hallmarks of a particular social-intellectual milieu, which, following
Naomi Barker, I refer to as musica erudita. A similar culture existed in Venetian circles, and
prints – both in IKT and in partitura – can be read as part of similar currents.
It is tempting to establish partitura and IKT as a dichotomy; IKT was designed to be
played immediately, with voice crossings eliminated by the practice associated with tablature
voices described above. The vertical alignment of notes in the score seemed to have been a
priority.
123
On the other hand, partiture seem as if they were designed to be read as a score by
the connoisseur. While their use by an instrumental consort was certainly a possibility, the prints
of Trabaci and Mayone are explicitly designated as keyboard music.
124
It is interesting to note

121
Giovanni Maria Trabaci, Il secondo libro de ricercate et altri varij capricci (Naples: Carlino, 1615; facsimile
edition, Florence: Studio per Edizioni Scelte, 1984).
122
This indication appears before a set of variations on the “Tenor de Zefiro,” which is designated as being
composed for harp; nonetheless, Trabaci writes “… having however, that in this present volume there are several
pieces indicated for the harp, this should not mean that one overlook the harpsichord, because the harpsichord is
Lord of all of the instruments of the world, and on it one can play anything with ease.” (“… havertendo però, che se
in questo presente libro stà intitolate alcune cose per l’Arpa, non per questo si soprasedisca il Cimbalo, perche il
Cimbalo è Signor di tutti l’istromenti del mondo, & in lei si possono sonare ogni cosa con facilità.”). Ibid., 117.
123
See Sillbiger, “Tablature?” 97.
124
In addition, the notion of score-as-study is supported by one of the earliest printed scores, Gardano’s well-known
1577 print of Rore’s four-part madrigals. Gardano presents the madrigals in a full partitura, untexted, and designates
them as being arranged as such to “play on every type of perfect instrument [i.e. lutes and keyboards], and for
‘qualunque studioso di contrapunti.”) Cipriano de Rore, Tutti i madrigali di Cipriano di Rore a quattro voci: spartiti

64
that compositional style often matches the tendencies of the notational format, with the music in
the partitura volumes of Trabaci and Mayone being near impossible to play as notated, and
intabulated pieces by Venetian composers generally easier to play; one might assume that a
keyboardist would have prepared his or her own IKT version of a Trabaci recercata. In the same
vein, the music in some printed intabulations – the dotte partiture – demonstrate a tendency to
“break” from the conventions of IKT to show contrapuntal detail, to strive to be partiture, while
others seem to alter the original polyphony freely. The latter type – “sounding images” – are
more concerned with demonstrating the virtuosic playing of the famous keyboardist to whom
they are attributed, with a player able to “reproduce” a virtuosic, improvised arrangement of
vocal work through the tablature. This conception works on a purely visual level too,
communicating to someone looking at the tablature rather than playing it: a reader of the
sounding image intabulation would observe the brilliance of the improvising keyboardist; on the
other hand, a reader of a dotta partitura would observe that the intabulator understood the
structure of the model.
125

et accommodati per sonar d'ogni sorte d'istrumento perfetto, & per qualunque studioso di contrapunti (Venice:
Gardano, 1577).
125
This again echoes Judd’s point regarding multiple levels of engagement with a printed score or musical example;
especially of note here is Judd’s “iconic” function (“we are meant to see notation, but not hear it.”) Judd, Reading
Renaissance Music Theory, 9.
65
Chapter 1
Italian Keyboard Tablature Revisited

If a sixteenth- or seventeenth-century Italian keyboardist wished to write down a composition,
she or he had several options when it came to notational format: tablature, part-books, and, to a
lesser extent, full score.
1
With tablature, Italian keyboardists worked with a particular type:
although called intavolatura by the publishers and scribes who produced it, what we now call
Italian keyboard tablature was a two-staff, barred, mensural notation – immediately apparent is
the disparity between the use of the word “tablature” (which ordinarily implies the use of figures
instead of notes), and the use of mensural notation. In fact, IKT not only looks a lot like early
keyboard notations used in France, England, and the Netherlands, but also modern keyboard
notation.
2
At the same time, it does not quite behave like any of these systems.
3
In fact, IKT is
readily identifiable through several notational irregularities, most of which can be at least partly
explained by the fact that IKT’s purpose was to be easily read by keyboardists, rather than to
show polyphonic structure.
4

1
The majority of keyboard partiture appear at the end of the sixteenth and the beginning of the seventeenth
centuries. See Table 3.3 in Robert Judd, “The Use of Notational Formats at the Keyboard,” (PhD diss., Oxford
University, 1988), vol. 2, 8.
2
Following the convention established in the Introduction, I will hereon abbreviate “Italian keyboard tablature” as
IKT. Silbiger compared IKT with the keyboard notations used in France, England, the Netherlands, and with
modern notation, in an article that in many ways served as the springboard for the present chapter. Alexander
Silbiger, “Is the Italian Keyboard 'Intavolatura' a Tablature?” Recercare 3 (1991): 81-103.
3
Interestingly enough, similar conventions and techniques can also be seen in Attaingnant’s keyboard prints,
making them a potential yet unexplored point of comparison for intavolatura and its irregularities; a perusal of
Pierre Attaingnant’s keyboard volumes indicates many shared conventions with IKT. Daniel Heartz points to links
between many of the Italian printers -- including Antico -- with Attaingnant and French publishers. Daniel Heartz,
Pierre Attaingnant Royal Printer of Music: A Historical Study and Bibliographic Catalogue (Berkeley and Los
Angeles: University of California Press, 1969), 40-41.
4
Alexander Silbiger writes: “One way of characterizing tablature notation is to say that it provides no information
beyond what is required to realize a piece of music physically; or to put it less kindly: tablature addresses the fingers
of the players rather than their musical understanding -- their bodies rather than their minds.” Alexander Silbiger,
“Tablature?,” 93.

66
IKT and its notational irregularities have already drawn interest from scholars. The topic
was addressed in articles by Giuseppe Clericetti (1987) and Alexander Silbiger (1991), and in a
doctoral dissertation by Paul Anthony Boncella (1991).
5
Aptly titled “Is the Italian keyboard
intavolatura a tablature?,” Silbiger’s article addressed the disparity between terminology and
notational medium most directly, identifying IKT’s notational irregularities largely in relation to
other historic keyboard notations that used mensural signs on two staves, as well as to modern
keyboard notation. He didn’t compare IKT to other figure-based lute or keyboard systems, and
his study mainly examined printed sources rather than manuscript ones. In the end, Silbiger
highlighted a tendency on the part of IKT to favor vertical structure over polyphonic texture, and
partly bypassing the question posed by his article’s title, wondered if the real issue was the
degree to which the notation foreshadowed subsequent developments in musical style.
6

Clericetti conducted his study as part of his larger editorial project of producing a
complete modern edition of Andrea Gabrieli’s keyboard music.
7
Approaching IKT from the
standpoint of a modern editor, Clericetti argued in favor of preserving notational irregularities in
Gabrieli’s works (the previous Andrea Gabrieli edition by Pierre Pidoux freely altered features
that didn’t conform to modern practice).
8
In his article Clericetti was largely concerned with
typographical detail, which he addressed throughly and systematically. Much like Silbiger’s

5
Alexander Silbiger, “Tablature?" Giuseppe Clericetti, “Criteri per un’edizione moderna della musica per strumenti
a tastiera di Andrea Gabrieli,” in Andrea Gabrieli e il suo tempo, ed. Francesco Degrada, vol. 11 of Studi di musica
veneta (Florence: Leo S. Olschki, 1987), 353-386. Paul Anthony Luke Boncella, “The Classical Venetian Organ
Toccata (1591-1604): An Ecclesiastical Genre Shaped by Printing Technologies and Editorial Policies” (PhD diss.,
Rutgers University, 1991), 122-41.
6
Silbiger writes: “…intovalatura notation, with its emphasis on the vertical at the expense of the horizontal, reflects
an earlier recognition by Italian keyboard players of the rising to the foreground of the harmonic aspects when full-
voiced passages are performed on their instruments, and thus, might it have formed a progressive strain in their
thinking about music?” Silbiger, “Tablature?,” 98-99.
7
Clericetti, “Criteri,” 353-354.
8
Clericetti points out that Pidoux’s edition had a modern preoccupation with polyphonic integrity, and freely altered
the IKT irregularities to make polyphonic structures clear (that is, Pidoux’s perception of these polyphonic
structures; as IKT hides this sort of detail, much of it needs to be inferred). Clericetti points to other errors in
Pidoux’s edition; see Clericetti, “Criteri,” 354-55.
67
article, Clericetti’s was also an examination of music from printed sources – in this case, by one
composer – rather than music in manuscripts. It didn’t offer a comparative analysis between
Gabrieli's intabulations other printed tablatures, nor did it compare IKT with other tablature
systems.
Boncella didn’t compare IKT with other keyboard or lute notations; instead, he examined
IKT convention as an element of the Venetian organ toccata, which he examines within the
context of printing conventions and culture. Boncella has a chapter dedicated to IKT’s notational
irregularities; because of its particular focus, the repertoire under examination was once again
exclusively from print sources, although Boncella did compare Gardano’s practices with those in
tablatures produced by the rival printing houses of Vincenti and Verovio.
9
Like Silbiger and
Clericetti, Boncella pointed to the need to consider IKT’s notational irregularities when
preparing modern editions.
10

In a similar vein to the three studies just cited, I will begin my own with a re-examination
of IKT’s notational irregularities. However, my starting place is slightly different: rather than
examining IKT function in free keyboard music (“free” in the sense of not being based on known
models), I will instead examine IKT through the p r oc e s s of intabulation, comparing polyphonic
models to their intabuated versions. In other words, I examine IKT within the contexts of
transcription and arrangement. This approach offers some benefits. For example, Silbiger opens
his study with a “detabulation” of a Gabrieli toccata, against which he identifies notational

9
Boncella wrote his study roughly at the same time as Silbiger did his, a point that Boncella acknowledges (see
140n1), although the two studies were conducted independently. Coincidentally, the two scholars examine the same
Andrea Gabrieli toccata as starting points for their discussions.
Another focus of Boncella’s study was IKT’s relationship with print technology. Claudio Merulo’s
toccatas, published by Simone Verovio, were engraved, whereas most volumes of Venetian keyboard music were
printed with movable type. Boncella points out that Verovio’s prints are more precise in showing notational detail.
Boncella, “Venetian Organ Toccata,” 131.
10
Ibid., 21-22.

68
irregularities. His detabulation, although entirely convincing, is by nature speculative. In
contrast, comparing extant models with their intabulations – in a wide body of examples – casts
IKT conventions in greater relief.
11

In addition, my approach complements those of Silbiger, Boncella, and Clericetti. The
fact that intabulations demonstrate the same notational conventions as “free” keyboard music
notated in IKT suggests that these conventions were inherent to the notational system; at the
same time, they are tied to the intabulation process as well. The precise relationship between the
process of arranging polyphony in tablature notation and the conventions that governed the
notational system is key for this study. This is especially the case as the intabulation process
often entailed substantial alteration of the model’s voice leading through the transposition and
omission of notes in the model. In fact, comparative analysis of intabulations and their
polyphonic models supports the notion that the very act of writing music down in IKT entailed
an intabulation process. In this view, IKT worked in algorithmic fashion, as IKT conventions and
the intabulation process both work to automatically convert vocal or instrumental polyphony into
idiomatic keyboard textures.
12

********

The overall purpose of this chapter is to establish concepts that will set up subsequent
chapters. Chapter 2 will sketch out a hypothesis of the origins of IKT’s conventions, arguing that
they can be seen as products of the improvisational activities of cinquecento keyboardists. Of

11
See Silbiger, “Tablature?”: 81-82. To be fair, Silbiger also examines some intabulations, but his initial, and
primary, focus is on “free” keyboard music.
12
The notion of intabulation as a kind of translation was developed by Victor Coelho, and will be addressed fully
further on in this chapter. See Victor Coelho and Keith Polk, Instrumentalists and Renaissance Culture, 1420-1600:
Players of Function and Fancy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2016), 213-16.
69
key importance for this hypothesis is IKT’s tendency to “verticalize” polyphonic structure, and
in this chapter I will establish how IKT’s conventions contribute to this phenomenon. The
precise functioning of the irregular notational conventions that define IKT as a system are fully
established as generally present in the full corpus of examined intabulations (in both print and
manuscript sources – see the Appendix). These conventions can be seen as standard practice,
even as individual sources demonstrate considerable variation in their application. At a
fundamental level scribes and publishers seem to be consistent in their treatment of IKT, its
functionality always pointing to a particular ideal. As a necessary preparation for both Chapter 3,
I will also establish some basic concepts here with regard to the role of IKT in composition: the
potential role of notational practice in affecting stylistic aspects that would normally be
considered compositional;
13
the role of notational convention in composition, through an
examination of elaborate intabulations;
14
and lastly, a particular by-product of IKT’s notational
conventions, which I call “tablature voices.”
15

Lastly, in this chapter I will address the precise nature of IKT, a question raised by
previous scholars. In general, tablature notations are decidedly prescriptive, a quality that
strongly sets them apart from other forms of early notation.
16
In referring specifically to elements

13
For example, IKT practice may actually dictate an alteration of polyphonic structures, as will be demonstrated
shortly.
14
As mentioned in the introduction, there were many links between intabulation and parody composition. See Victor
Coelho, “Revisiting the Workshop of Howard Mayer Brown: [Josquin’s] Obsecro te domina and the Context of
Arrangement,” in 'La musique, de tous les passetemps le plus beau...': Hommage à Jean-Michel Vaccaro, vol 1. of
Domaine musicologique: Collection d'études 19 (Paris: Klincksieck, 1998), 47-65 for an overview.
15
An initial formal definition of “tablature voices” is given in the Introduction, and they are fully explored further
on in the present chapter. They are, at least at first glance, a by-product of IKT’s notational irregularities and
conventions. Even when a polyphonic model is copied completely faithfully in tablature (that is, it isn’t altered to
create a texture more suited to keyboard playing), the notational conventions themselves produce the visual effect of
new voice leading and, in effect, new polyphonic structures, with “new” parts. It is my contention that these “new”
tablature parts reflect the way that keyboardists mentally processed and conceived of polyphony: in other words,
they embody “keyboard thinking.” In the introduction to this dissertation, I partially define “keyboard thinking” as
being essentially vertical in its concept of polyphony, and this can be seen in tablature voices and as part of the
notational conventions alike.
16
I use these terms in the way established by Bruce Haynes in The End of Early Music (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 2007), 103-04. The concept is appropriated from grammar, and Haynes is not the first person to apply this

70
of the mechanical realization of performance (for example, the lines in Italian lute intavolatura
represent the strings of the instrument, and the numbers represent frets), tablature notations are
very close to performance practices.
17
Establishing the degree to which IKT was conceived and
functioned like other tablature notations profoundly affects the way we view the music
transmitted in it. I will make a case for IKT’s irregular notational conventions being directly
comparable to the conventions of Italian lute intavolatura, arguing that IKT should really be
viewed as an attempt to create a keyboard equivalent of lute intavolatura with mensural notation,
with graphical elements in the score used to represent elements of the keyboard, as well as the
physical actions involved with playing it. In this sense, IKT is mimetic, on multiple levels: it
represents the keyboard, the actions of an idealized performance, and the sonic realization of
that performance.
18

particular formulation to music notation. That said, Haynes directly molds his usage upon Nicholas Harnoncourt’s
concepts of “work” and “performance” notations, in Baroque Music Today: Music as Speech, trans. Mary O’Neill
(Portland, OR: Amadeus Press, 1995), 29.
17
Although a detailed and precise history of their musical-cultural function is obscure, published volumes of IKT
dedicated to intabulations suggests that they were intended to offer solo keyboard versions of the music they
contain. For example, Jacques Buus’s 1549 print of ricercars in IKT, the Intabolatura d’organo di ricercare
(Venice: Gardane, 1549), seems to be intended for those who wanted to play part-book ricercars on keyboard; see
Robert Judd, “The Use of Notational Formats,” vol. 2, 8. Judd interprets a pedagogical purpose to Buus’s volume.
The first ricercar in the collection is an intabulation of the composer’s own part-book ricercar, from Il secondo libro
di recercari (Venice: Gardane, 1549). This particular intabulation was shown in example by Richard Taruskin, in
the Oxford History of Western Music, vol. 1, Chapter 15, “Peaking Behind the Curtain.” (accessed online June 18,
2016).
Two intabulated ricercars from Padovano’s 1556 part-book collection found in Bertoldo’s 1591 Toccate
(these ricercars are unattributed to Padovano in Bertoldo’s print) were also probably intended for solo performance.
This is suggested by the extensive ornamentation; in addition, the fact that they are heavily truncated perhaps
indicates a specific liturgical function. Sperindio Bertoldo, Toccate Ricercari et Canzoni Francese Intavolate per
Sonar d’Organo (Venice: Gardano, 1591). See modern edition with facsimile: Sperindio Bertoldo, Opere per
tastiera (Venice 1591), ed. Luigi Collarile (Colledare: Andromeda Edition, 2005).
That playing intabulations was a popular past-time for lutenists is well-documented in sources such as
Galilei’s Fronimo; that solo keyboard intabulations played a similar functional role is probably indicated by the
number of extant prints dedicated to them (see the series of Gabrieli, for example), as well as by prints such as the
1577 Gardano publication of chansons, put in score, untexted, “per sonar d'instromento perfetto.” Antonio Gardano,
Musica de diversi autori (Venice: Gardano, 1577); facsimile ed. (Bologna: Forni Editore, 1971). The contents of
this volume include many chansons that were popular vehicles for solo instrumentalists. For modern edition and
translation of Galilei’s lute treatise, see Vincenzo Galilei, Il Fronimo, trans. Carol McClintock (Stuttgart: American
Institute of Musicology, 1985).
18
The mimetic qualities that I argue IKT possess are expanded upon in Chapter 3 to construct a theory of “self-
fashioning” in intabulation.

71

Part 1: IKT as a Notational System

IKT Revisited
The studies of Boncella, Silbiger, and Clericetti, mentioned above, imply that IKT functioned as
a system, a system defined by unwritten yet implicitly understood rules and conventions. These
rules and conventions can be observed in the majority of the music written down in the
notational format. As mentioned previously, my initial approach in reexamining IKT is to
analyze its functioning as part of the process of intabulation, as observed throughout the corpus
of extant print and manuscript intabulations. My search focuses on manuscript and print sources
notated in IKT dating before 1611; the Appendix contains select comparative models of
intabulations that have not previously been published (in this format).
19

Example 1.1, an excerpt from Andrea Gabrieli’s intabulation of Clemens’s chanson
Frais et Galliard, makes a good introduction to IKT’s notational irregularities. (The music here
has been arranged as it will be for all of the examples in this chapter: the bottom two staves are a
transcription of Gabrieli’s keyboard intabulation, and the top four are a full-score transcription of
Clemens’s chanson). In bar 7, the alto and tenor parts of Clemens’s chanson cross, briefly
forming a unison on the same d' above c' on the second part of the first beat; in Gabrieli’s
intabulation, however, the unison between the two parts is not shown. Instead, it is represented

19
Only for Merulo’s intabulations and for the intabulations in the Pietro Francese manuscript (Pf) are there
complete comparative models available to the modern reader. Complete models of Merulo’s canzonas can be found
in Charles McDermott’s doctoral dissertation; see Charles M. McDermott,“The Canzoni d’Intavolatura d’Organo of
Claudio Merulo: A Guide to Improvised Oranmentation” (PhD diss., University of California, Berkeley, 1979): see
the second volume for complete comparative models of Merulo’s canzonas. Marie Louise Göllner provides
comparative models for all of the intabulations in the Pietro Francese manuscript. See Eine neue Quelle zur
italienischen Orgelmusik des Cinquecento, vol. 3 of Münchner Editionen zur Musikgeschichte (Tutzing: Schneider,
1982).
72
by one note. Neither is another unison on the first part of the beat in this same measure, between
the alto and bass, which is treated in the same way. The end result is that, until the second beat,
73
Gabrieli’s intabulation looks like it is missing a part.
20
Rather than clarifying the voice leading
of Clemens’s chanson, Gabrieli’s intabulation obscures it.
The treatment of the polyphonic unison in this example can be cited as the first of the
many irregularities that define IKT. Another one of these irregularities can be seen in the same
example. The voice crossing between the alto and tenor parts at the beginning of measure 7 is not
reflected by the stem directions in the intabulation – this also works to obscure the voice leading
of Clemens’s chanson. Stem directions are assigned based upon the vertical placement of notes
in a staff at any given moment, with the highest note taking an upward stem, and the lowest
taking a downward one. This practice is also observed in the next bar, as well as where the alto
and tenor parts of the chanson cross in beats one and two. Rather than being arranged in a way
that makes the voice crossings clear (as would be done in modern keyboard editorial practice),
the stems always reflect the vertical position of the notes.
21
In general, this practice of
determining stem direction, combined with the practice of handling unisons, obscures the
contour of the model’s voice leading; without recourse to a score or part-books, or having
memorized the voice leading of the original, a player of Gabrieli’s tablature would have no clue
as to the precise identity of the parts in these instances. Instead of the model’s polyphonic voices,

20
Hiding unisons in the polyphonic model in this way is seen fairly consistently in printed music from Venetian
publishing houses. Modern keyboard notational practice would have of course required using a double stem – for
that matter, contemporary English notation would have as well. See Silbiger, “Tablature?”: 97.
21
As noted by Silbiger; see “Tablature?,” 90-92. Silbiger points out that even Bach’s notation is more “performer-
oriented” than typical modern editorial practice; citing an example from the Well-Tempered Clavier, Silbiger shows
that Bach notated two voices on top of each other in the same staff, even as stem direction made the voices clear
(which would not be the case in IKT). As Silbiger points out, modern editorial practice can be seen clearly in the
edition of Frescobaldi’s polyphonic works as published by Bärenreiter; see for example the Fantasie. When
transcribing Frescobaldi’s four-part counterpoint in a modern keyboard score (the majority of Frescobaldi’s
contrapuntal works were originally published in partitura, or full score), stem direction is used to clarify the
integrity of the voices, and additional lines added to clarify voice leading and voice crossings. See Frescobaldi, Das
erste Buch der Capricci, Ricercari und Canzoni 1626, ed. Pierre Pidoux (Kassel: Bärenreiter-Verlag, 1949).

74
the player sees a “fake” set of composite parts, each formed of the highest or lowest tones, as
suggested by series of notes with the same stem direction.
22

Example 1.1 also demonstrates another irregularity. In measure 8, the notes are arranged
so that the soprano part is isolated on the top staff, and the other voices are moved to the bottom
one. This is perhaps the IKT irregularity best known to performers: the staves dictate the notes to
be played by each hand, with notes on the top assigned to the right, and notes on the bottom to
the left.
23
The precise arrangement of parts between the two staves is often dictated by
ornamentation; if one staff (or hand) has passaggi, the other one will take the rest of the notes as
accompaniment. This can be seen in Example 1.2, from an intabulation of Willaert’s chanson
Qui la dira, again by Andrea Gabrieli. The parts are generally disposed evenly between the two
staves until one hand has passaggi; in these instances, the ornaments are isolated on one staff,
and the other voices form chords on the other. In general, the convention of arranging the parts
on the staves in this manner obscures the model’s voice leading.
Example 1.2 also demonstrates another notational irregularity: rests are treated in ways
that differ from standard practice. For example, rests from the model are generally omitted when
intabulated in IKT. However, a few rests are kept (see, for example, rests in the Tenor and
Quintus parts in measure 20). In this cases, their inclusion seems to be tied to clarifying the
entrance of the notes that immediately follow them. Sometimes rests are added to the tablature

22
This phenomenon is clearly related to basso seguente practice in late Renaissance keyboard accompaniment
practice. A thorough comparison between IKT and basso seguente will be conducted further on in the present
chapter. For more on basso seguente, see Peter Williams and David Ledbetter, "Basso seguente,” Grove Music
Online. Oxford Music Online, accessed January 5, 2015.
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.libproxy.usc.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/02279.
23
Further on in this chapter, I will argue that this practice is grounded in the conceptual alignment of the notation
with the physical keyboard itself. For now, it will suffice to note that it can be tied directly to creating a notation
designed for playability; in Gabrieli’s intabulation, the entire alto part, from the second beat onward, is simply
removed – presumably its inclusion would have made for an awkward stretch for the player. (The alteration of the
model’s polyphony in the process of intabulation will be covered shortly.)
75
when they are not technically needed, or, for that matter, present in the original polyphony; see,
76
for example, the last beat of measure 7 in Example 1.3. Silbiger calls these “fictitious” rests, as
they don't serve any contrapuntal function.
24
Instead, they are tied to the mechanical realization
of the tablature by the player – they are intended to help the player read the intabulation easily,
rather than to demonstrate information about voice leading.
25
For example, these rests are
sometimes used to clarify voices moving between staves; this can be seen in measure 6 of
Example 1.3.
26

These fictional rests could be interpreted more literally, however; simply as signs to remove a

24
Silbiger, “Tablature?”: 83.
25
As Silbiger puts it: “Thus we see that in the original notation no attempt was made to clarify the voice leading; the
player is merely instructed when to press which keys.” Ibid.
26
In his description of IKT conventions, Boncella argues for three functions for rests: “(1) to clarify the alignment
of notes, (2) to signal the entrance of a voice or voices, and (3) to show when a voices passes to another hand.”
Boncella, “Venetian Organ Toccata,” 125-26. The second category corresponds with Silbiger’s “fictitious” rests. I
would argue that all rests in IKT are rooted in the same basic function: indicating the physical removal of a finger
from a key, even when they are used to indicate possible details of voice leading. Note that the rest in measure 6 can
be interpreted either way.
77
finger from a key. One gets the sense that most rests in IKT held this function. This can be seen,
for example, in Example 1.4, an excerpt from Gabrieli’s intabulation of Ferrabosco’s Io mi son
giovenetta. When the right-hand passaggio begins its ascent on g' after the first note, the bottom
staff (or left hand) gets a rest to clear space, followed by a quick restriking of the note (or key).
Giuseppe Clericcetti calls these rests “‘pause di mano’ o ‘di dita,’” in that they literally dictate
the removal of the player’s hand from a key – and as Clericcetti indicates, the rests have nothing
to do with the polyphony of the model.
27

Rests, along with all of the tablature conventions cited so far, tend to obscure the original voice
leading but create a texture easier to read for the player. IKT’s treatment of long notes can be

27
See Clericetti, “Criteri,” 373.
To the categories of “fictitious” (or note-clarifying) and “mechanical” rests, we could also potentially add a
third: a “figural” rest, in which a rest is part of a repeating motive or gesture: this can be seen in Example 1.4, in the
last measure. The rest before the quarter note (comparable to the truncating of dactylic figures in canzonas) is part of
an ornamental figure.
78
seen in similar light. Longer notes are commonly split into shorter, even ones, which are often
tied but not always. This irregularity can be seen in Example 1.4, in measures 16 and 17. Here,
the semibreves of the bass part in the model are consistently intabulated as repeated half-notes.
Intabulators are not consistent in whether these split long notes are tied;
28
in fact, the notes in
measure 16 have ties, and the ones in measure 17 don’t.
Also notable in Example 1.4 are two additional instances of the treatment of rests in IKT:
the model’s tenor rest in measure 16 is omitted, and a rest is added to clarify Gabrieli’s new
soprano figure in measure 18. IKT notational conventions can interact in complex ways, working
in tandem to obscure the voice leading of the model. This can be seen in Example 1.5, an
excerpt from Gabrieli’s intabulation of Frais et Galliard. The combination of the conventions of
splitting long notes (see the semibreves in the alto part of the model), staff/hand practice, and
unisons creates a visual keyboard score that looks fundamentally different from its model, even
as the actual notes are essentially the same.

Are IKT's Rules Universal?
The notational irregularities demonstrated up to this point are applied with enough consistency to
be seen as a set of standard notational conventions, and the features seen in these examples can
be taken as models to which features in intabulations can be compared. This is especially
highlighted by the fact that, in general, IKT rules function in manuscript sources as well as in

28
Clericetti, “Criteri,” 380. The inconsistent application of ties may reflect performance reality: whether or not ties
were observed in performance may have had to do with the choice of instrument. Performance on quilled keyboard
instruments probably entailed restriking tied notes as a matter of course. See Luigi Ferdinando Tagliavini, “The Art
of 'Not Leaving the Instrument Empty': Comments on Early Italian Harpsichord Playing,” Early Music 11 (1983),
300.
79
print ones.
29
Example 1.6 demonstrates IKT practice in five print and manuscript sources.
30

29
This study does not attempt to trace a specific genesis for IKT’s conventions. Any theory that attempts to explain
this genesis, however, should carefully consider the relationship between print technology and scribal conventions.
While the latter undoubtedly influenced the former, one may well wonder about the role of the former in
establishing IKT as a uniform system.
30
For a transcription of selected intabulations from Antico’s 1517 print arranged with their polyphonic models, see
Knud Jeppesen, Die Italienische Orgelmusik am Anfang des Cinquecento, 2nd ed. (Copenhagen: W. Hansen Musik-
forlag, 1960); see 47-75 for commentary on this volume. For a modern edition of keyboard music from
Castell’Arquato, see H. Colin Slim, ed., Keyboard Music at Castell'Arquato, vol. 3, ed. H. Colin Slim, CEKM 37
(Middleton, WI: American Institute of Musicology, 2003), ix. For a modern facsimle edition of I-Trmp L. Feininger,
n.s ("Feiniger Codex") see the edition, with commentary, by Alexander Silbiger, Trent, Museo provinciale d'arte,
Biblioteca musicale L. Feininger, n.s. (New York: Garland, 1987).
80
81
82
83
84
Although there are notable differences in the application of IKT conventions between these three
examples, they all adhere to principles of the basic functional “model” established by the
conventions.
Intabulations in IKT can deviate from this model by degree, but one gets the sense that
scribes and publishers always strove towards it, and even intabulations that deviate substantially
from it can be shown to demonstrate its effect as a kind of background force. For example, the
Castell'Arquato intabulation of Occhi felici miei ben demonstrates many instances in which the
scribe deviates from IKT rest practice – maintaining rests from the original polyphony when the
functional model would dictate their removal in intabulation – but, at the same time, contains
many instances in which standard rest practice is followed. Perhaps the scribe “bent” the rules to
85
transmit polyphonic information that normal procedure would hide in particular instances, but
would “fall back” to standard practice if not conscious about doing so. In this sense, the
established IKT functional model works as a kind of Platonic ideal.
31
Furthermore, the shared
presence of IKT’s rules throughout extant sources suggest an understanding of the notation, on
some level, as a unified system – a universally understood set of unwritten laws and conventions,
shared by publishers and scribes alike. While many intabulations contain instances in which the
intabulator pushes back against IKT’s rules – that is, the intabulator deviates from IKT
conventions, in order to show the voice leading of the model – one gets the sense that this
pushing back is very much a conscious decision to go against a commonly understood notational
system: otherwise, the rules of IKT are followed almost automatically. This pushing back is
particularly seen in manuscript intabulations, in which deviations from IKT practice may have
been easier to accomplish than with print technology. Pushing back against IKT conventions can
particularly be seen in messy situations in which IKT conventions and deviations clash. The
deviations, often found within the context of an intabulation that generally follows IKT rules,
cast the normal functioning of IKT’s conventions in sharp relief. Deviations against IKT rules
and conventions can be observed in a fragmentary intabulation of Rore’s Ancor che col partire in
the Castell’Arquato manuscripts, Example 1.7. (It is illuminating to compare this intabulation of
this popular madrigal with those found in the Pietro Francese, Layolle, and Trent manuscripts, as
well as with the one in GABRIELI 1596 – all found in the Appendix.)
The Ancor intabulation shows a curious mix of IKT conventions and attempts to push
against them. At first glance the excerpt seems to largely ignore IKT’s rules: for instance,

31
The intended function of individual intabulations would obviously dictate their musical style, including
fundamental arrangement decisions made by their intabulators, a point that Victor Coelho and Keith Polk make with
regard to lute tablature. See Coelho and Polk, Instrumentalists, 213-17. Coelho’s concept has to deal with the
“target” audience of a given intabulation, and organizes lute intabulation into eight categories, each with its own
intended audience and subsequent approach.
86
polyphonic rests are kept in; doing so contradicts the usual procedure of creating seguente parts
(see measures 7-8). The deviations in the intabulation allow the intabulator to push back against
87
IKT conventions, to reveal the original voice leading of the model, a phenomenon further
supported by deviations from normal IKT stem treatment. However, in other instances in the
intabulation IKT conventions are followed: the unison in measure 8 between the Alto and Tenor
parts is represented by a single note, in typical IKT fashion, and normal seguente procedure is
followed in measure 10 (bottom staff), in measure 11 (see the Tenor and Bass on beat 2, and in
the Superius-Alto voice crossing in measures 4-5). In measure 9 typical IKT hand distribution is
seen. In measures 10-11, normal IKT stem practice is contradicted by the addition of the minim
rest – which clarifies the original voice leading – on the first beat of measure 11. In this instance
IKT convention and a deviation are seen simultaneously.
Interestingly enough, the deviations in this intabulation all seem to be driven by the same
desire: to show polyphonic detail in the model that IKT conventions would ordinarily hide. This
trend is seen throughout the examined intabulations, with scribes and publishers adopting various
strategies to show voice leading that is usually hidden by IKT’s conventions. For example, rests
unidiomatic to IKT – that is, rests that relate to the model’s polyphony as opposed to IKT
conventions – can be used to clarify voice exchanges. In the Layolle manuscript, one of the
scribes adopts a highly particular convention, using a custos sign to signal instances in which a
voice jumps between staves (see below). Many of these irregularities are undoubtedly easier to
accomplish by hand as opposed to print technology (in the latter case many of them would
undoubtedly require extra steps in the printing process) which must at least partly explain why
they are more commonly seen in manuscript sources.
32

The studies of Clericetti, Silbiger, and Boncella all called attention to the important role
of IKT conventions in understanding early keyboard music transmitted in this notational format,

32
This fact must also increase the significance placed on instances of irregularities and pushing back against IKT
convention in print sources; in fact, the idea of composers and printing houses breaking IKT convention to show
voice leading is the core argument in Chapter 3.
88
and the need for modern editors to faithfully transmit notational irregularities. This is largely
because IKT conventions are closely tied to performance, and therefore may be understood as
important performance indicators. They may also be seen as individual stylistic markers; for
example, the intabulations attributed to Andrea Gabrieli demonstrate a greater willingness to
bend IKT convention to show polyphonic detail. When combined with other features, such as
ornamentation or other stylistic markers, the “behavior” of IKT in a given score could be used as
a puzzle piece in the identification of scribe, publisher, or (in some cases) composer.

Comments on Specific Sources and Intabulations
While a thorough analysis of extant intabulations is beyond the scope of the current study, a few
sources merit special comment. I will provide a few notes for each, with the hope that they
become the objects of future study.

Antico 1519
Antico’s volume of Frottole is already notable for being the first printed collection of music in
IKT.
33
It is also an outlier in many respects: the other printed sources examined in this study are
all produced by figures in the Venetian orbit. In addition, Antico’s early publication date
distances it from the Venetian intabulations (all of which date from the end of the sixteenth
century or from the first decades of the seventeenth). Interestingly enough, Antico’s (or his
workers’) approach differs substantially from typical IKT practice in many respects. Notable is a
tendency to preserve the Superius and Bass parts of the models, along with a strikingly cavalier

33
See Don Harrán and James Chater, "Frottola," Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, accessed on October 1,
2018. http:////www.oxfordmusiconline.com/grovemusic/view/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.001.0001/omo-
9781561592630-e-0000010313.

89
approach to the integrity of the middle voices. This loose treatment of the inner voices is not
surprising, given the flexible nature of the frottola’s compositional structure.
34
While one may
question whether these intabulations were even based on existing vocal models, in some
instances the intabulations do demonstrate a fidelity to their inner voices, suggesting a
relationship between the intabulations and the printed vocal versions.

Layolle Manuscript
The Layolle manuscript was described thoroughly in an article by Frank D’Accone.
35
Along with
the Bardini manuscript, this source is notable for being a large-scale collection entirely devoted
to intabulations of vocal music. Although well beyond the scope of the current study, both merit
thorough examination, specifically with regard to intabulation process. As mentioned, this
manuscript is highly notable for the habit of one scribe to use custos signs to signal instances in
which voices leap between staves.
36
These can be seen in Example 1.8. The custos sign is used
to subvert IKT’s tendency to hide details of voice leading, and has a clear affinity with Vincenzo
Galilei’s cross sign in lute intavolatura, which is used for essentially the same purpose.
37
The
fact that the manuscript is of Florentine provenance is therefore highly notable.

34
Ibid. See especially Section 4, “Performance Practice”: lute and voice arrangements of frottole often removed the
Alto part, or used the inner parts freely as a kind of harmonic filler.

35
Frank D’Aconne, “The ‘Intavolatura di M. Alamanno Aiolli’: A Newly Discovered Source of Florentine
Renaissance Keyboard Music.” Musica Disciplina 20 (1966): 151-74.

36
Frank D’Accone identifies this first scribe as the first owner of the manuscript: the Florentine organist Alamanno
Layolle. Interestingly enough, Layolle grew up in Lyon, where his father Francesco worked with the publisher
Jacques Moderne and as an organist. As mentioned above in note 3, potential connections between Lyon and IKT’s
development merit closer scrutiny. See D’Accone, “’Intavolatura’,” 158-60. For more on Alamanno Layolle, see
D’Accone, "Layolle, Alamanne de," Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, accessed on October 1, 2018.
http:////www.oxfordmusiconline.com/grovemusic/view/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.001.0001/omo-
9781561592630-e-0000016158. For more on Francesco de Layolle, see D’Accone, "Layolle, Francesco de," Grove
Music Online, Oxford Music Online, accessed on October 1, 2018.
http:////www.oxfordmusiconline.com/grovemusic/view/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.001.0001/omo-
9781561592630-e-0000016159.
37
For more, see Chapter 3 of the present dissertation, 71.
90

91
Castell’Arquato and Intabulation Process
While the limited nature of the present inquiry prevents a thorough investigation, it should be
noted that some intabulations may provide a glimpse into the intabulation process.
38
This is
particularly seen in the Castell’Arquato intabulations; unfortunately, the continued relative
inaccessibility of the collection, in addition to its generally less than optimal condition, makes a
complete investigation impossible at this point. Even as of 2018 this rich and extensive source
still awaits a thorough study; a clean facsimile copy of the entire manuscript collection is not yet
available. Of particular note is the intabulation of Arcadelt’s Se per colpa (Example 1.9), which
is partly notated on three staves. It is tempting to see this intabulation as an intabulation sketch,

38
As mentioned previously, this inquiry was chiefly intended to ascertain the extent of IKT’s broader functioning.
92
analogous to a compositional sketch; at first glance it doesn’t seem to be a traditional IKT
intabulation at all, but rather a condensed partitura. IKT stem practices are largely ignored,
making the original voice leading completely clear. However, in certain instances the inner
voices swap places (for instance, in measure 15, in measure 35, and briefly in measure 30). The
intabulation also contains instances of alteration to the original polyphony, including the addition
of passaggi and reworkings of voice leading. These alterations suggest an awareness of IKT
conventions. This is seen in measure 30, in which the cadential ornament in the alto part
necessitates a brief inner voice exchange – the typical keyboard cadential ornament links the
Alto’s b to the Tenor’s c’, forcing the intabulator to rewrite the composition in a manner that is
more idiomatic for the keyboard. Other brief rewritings point to IKT convention; for example,
the unison between the Bass and Tenor on the last beat of measure 31 is represented by one note,
as would be seen in an IKT intabulation. These instances are especially notable given the general
full score tendency already noted. It is tempting to see this intbaulation as a sort of intermediary
or preparatory score; the intabulator seems to be preparing elements such as the disposition of
voices and alterations to the polyphony to accommodate ornamentation.
Many of the intabulations in Castell’Arquato contain similar instances; the entire
collection merits further study. The intabulation of Ancor che col partire examined above in
Example 1.7 contains instances in which a single polyphonic voice is written twice – that is, in
both staves – suggesting that the intabulator had not yet decided on which staff the note was to
go (see measure 11, beat four). It should be noted that intabulations from other manuscripts also
suggest similar instances: for example, in the intabulation of Berchem’s O s’io potessi Donna in
the Layolle manuscript, a custos sign is used simultaneously with an alteration. This could
suggest that the intabulator made the alterations in a preparatory score, one similar to the Se per
colpa intabulation in Castell’Arquato, from which a final intabulation was made.
93

Part 2: IKT as an Algorithmic Process

Untangling IKT Convention and Intabulation Process
As I pointed out at the beginning of this chapter, my approach in demonstrating IKT conventions
differs from that of prior studies in that it focused exclusively on intabulations – pieces for which
extant models exist. A potential problem with this approach is that it automatically conflates
IKT’s notational conventions with the process of intabulation. It is relatively easy to do this: I’ve
been using these examples of intabulated counterpoint to demonstrate the conventions of IKT as
a notational format, even as they are equally demonstrative of intabulation process. The studies
of Boncella, Silbiger, and Clericetti cited above don’t seem to make a distinction between the
two. While this may be partly due to their individual focuses,
39
studies of intabulation in other
tablature notational systems also seem to accept that the laws of IKT as a notational system and
the process of intabulation can be basically conflated; at least, they don’t make a point of
distinguishing between them.
40
The historical sources surveyed in Dinko Fabris’ thorough study
on lute intabulation instruction don't seem to make a distinction between notational format and
intabulation process either.
41
One reason why the distinction may be more important in IKT than
in other tablature systems is IKT's use of mensural notation, which gives it a hybrid nature: its
conventions are comparable to those in figure-based tablature systems, but its notation symbols

39
For example, Boncella’s study dealt with toccatas – abstract, model-less works – and therefore wouldn’t need to
address intabulation process; Clericetti’s article was conducted from the standpoint of the editor, and was therefore
largely concerned with typographical detail (and largely framed by this focus); Silbiger’s study, although examining
a few intabulations in addition to “free” pieces, never distinguished between the two.
40
See, for example, Polk and Coehlo, Instrumentalists; Dinko Fabris, “Lute Tablature Instructions in Italy: A
Survey of the Regole from 1507-1759,” in Musical Theory in the Renaissance, ed. Cristle Collins Judd (Farnham,
VT: Ashgate, 2013), 451-82; Cleveland Johnson, Vocal Compositions in German Organ Tablatures 1550 - 1650: A
Catalogue and Commentary (New York: Garland Publishing, Inc., 1989).
41
Fabris, “Lute Tablature Instructions.”
94
align it with the notation of vocal polyphony. The problem of this “dual nature” is highlighted by
intabulations that circumvent IKT rules, but not always (as seen in the Castell'Arquato
intabulation above).
In addition, the fact that the same IKT conventions are observed in intabulations and in
abstract keyboard works (without models) also suggests a high degree of entanglement between
IKT conventions and the processes of intabulation. Coupled with the general lack of distinction
between the two just cited, we might very well assume that this all indicates that IKT
conventions and intabulation process should essentially be conflated: in this scenario,
“intabulating” is simply a way of describing writing anything down in IKT, as already implied
by IKT’s very name (intavolatura). However, this is, at the same time, a dangerous assumption
to make; after all, abstract works have no models from which to intabulate. If IKT conventions
and intabulation are separate phenomena, this would necessitate that IKT conventions exist as an
a priori set of conditions, a system of rules that preclude the act of writing anything in IKT,
whether this is an arrangement of polyphony (an intabulation) or a "transliteration" of an abstract
piece of music. And, if intabulation and notational convention are actually aspects of the same
general process (in this scenario, IKT conventions would follow intabulation as a by-product of
its processes and procedures), this would mean that writing anything down in IKT is the same as
intabulating it. Interestingly enough, both Diruta’s intabulation guide and an examination of
extant intabulations show that intabulating in IKT routinely involved the recomposition of the
model’s polyphony; this alteration would also have to be seen as part of writing anything down
in IKT.

95
The Problem of Alteration
The importance of distinguishing between IKT's notational conventions and the process of
intabulation is especially highlighted by this practice of alteration, which is commonly seen in
IKT intabulations. Like their counterparts who used lute or figure-based keyboard notational
systems, intabulators working in IKT often freely altered the polyphony of their models, to make
the music idiomatically suitable for keyboard (or, in some cases, physically playable). Is this sort
of alteration best seen as part of the process of intabulation, or could it actually be a notational
convention? If it is accepted that IKT conventions and intabulating are basically two sides of the
same coin, it would seem that, by implication, every piece of music notated in IKT – regardless
of whether there was a polyphonic model from which it was intabulated – implied a “process” of
intabulation as part of its genesis, as dictated by the notational system. The question as to
whether alteration in intabulation should be viewed as a notational convention, a part of
intabulation, or occupying a space between the two, can help establish the role that notation
played in compositional process.
As we’ve seen, the use of IKT often results in the general reduction of complicated
polyphonic textures to simpler, chordal textures. Of course, these conventions have a rather
superficial effect, altering the appearance of the music, not the actual music itself. This isn’t to
say that they don’t change the music on some level: arguably the reader’s perception of the
music is altered, even when the notes aren’t. This can be demonstrated through a passage from
Bertoldo’s intabulation of Crecquillon’s Or vien ça vien (Example 1.10). Long notes are
consistently split in the tablature as shorter notes, and voice-crossings and stem practices
simplify the polyphony to create a series of chords. While almost none of the notes from the
model are altered, IKT conventions create a very different texture, at least visually.
96

Perhaps the effect that IKT conventions have on the music could be described as part of a
process of translating polyphony into a form more suited to keyboard playing, or more
accurately, the idiomatic style of cinquecento keyboard players. The concept of intabulation as
translation was established by Victor Coelho and Keith Polk, in their recent study of lute
intabulation and cinquecento compositional practices.
42
Coelho draws an analogy between
intabulation practice and sixteenth-century literary translation: intabulations “translate” music in
one “language” (vocal polyphony) into the another (the “vernacular” lute tablature); like textual

42
Coelho seems to have first introduced this idea in a paper read at the 69th Annual Meeting of the American
Musicological Society in Houston, Texas, 2003: "Crossing the Sacred: Intabulations as Translations.” The concept is
a central part of his study of cinquecento lute improvisational and compositional practices; see Coelho and Polk,
Instrumentalists, 189-225. Other studies that have developed this concept include the dissertation by Coelho’s
graduate student: Stefano Graziano, “From Language to Music: Mapping the History of the Italian Lute
Vocabulary” (PhD diss.: Boston University, 2011).

97
translation, the style of the translation is dependent upon the intended audience and their social
context.
43
And, rather than being derivative works, translations are artistically “autonomous,” to
be understood and valued on their own terms.
44
In the case of IKT intabulations, much of the
translation is generated automatically by the conventions themselves, which work to create an
easier, rough-and-ready homophonic texture, even when the actual underlying music (that is, the
music of the model) is polyphonic. Beyond simply making the music easier to play, this
translation of polyphony refers the player to a specific cinquecento keyboard idiom, therefore
operating in and of itself as a type of coded performance indicator.
45
One of the textures
associated with this idiom is formed of a series of chords in one hand that support passaggi in the
other. This is commonly seen in (for example) the ballo repertoire as well as in the “free”
sections of the “Classical” Venetian organ toccata. It can also be seen in intabulations of vocal
music: this can be seen in Meulo's intabulation of Susanne un jour (Example 1.11), in which the
chanson’s polyphony is “reduced” or “converted” to a texture that would not be unusual in the

43
Coelho and Polk write, “As with translation, the motives of intabulators are fundamentally determined by the
audience, or target. Some demonstrate, by their choice of model and approach to arranging, a regional or cultural
practice, or even a performance context. In this case, the target audience is fairly well defined. Other intabulations,
such as those based on popular vocal models, reveal an interest in the economics of the market – that is, the
popularity of the work or composer – and therefore reach out to a broader and more diverse audience; still others are
dedicated to pedagogical ends. In other words, there are several goal-oriented strategies influencing how and why
intabulations are made, a point that suggests examining the practice of intabulation within the broader context of
literary translation and imitation.” Coelho and Polk, Instrumentalists, 215.
Regarding social context, Coelho and Polk write, “As motets and Mass movements cross into secular,
domestic environments, soloistic figuration, cadential ornaments, occasional parallel intervals, unprepared
dissonance, and truncations of the original usually prohibited in the writing of sacred music are permitted, producing
a new “vernacular” in translation that is not limited by language or religion.” Ibid., 218.
44
As Coelho puts it, “Clearly, the traditional understanding of intabulations as merely derivative works of limited
value to editors of texts is unsatisfactory to account for the diversity of approaches. In a powerful critique of the
historical exclusion of arrangements, Vaccaro sees musicology’s resistance to valorizing intabulations as an ’almost
Manichean’ process, in which music originally conceived naturally in the mind of the composer subsequently
devolves into an abstraction of new notational characters, to finally being incarnated as an instrumental realization.
In this conceptual model, writes Vaccaro, importance is placed only on the original composition, not the sound – la
forme sonore, as the French say – or performance adaptation(s) of the piece; ‘the instrument is regarded as
constraining’ the work, the arrangement limiting the natural freedom of the musical imagination. Similar to
translations of classical texts, intabulations, on the contrary, demonstrate both flexibility and fidelity with respect to
the model, and they deserve to assume a more autonomous, rather than a merely derivative, role.” Ibid., 216.
45
In addition to being a possible indicator of how the music was conceived by its creators, as Silbiger points out.
Silbiger, “Tablature,” 95.
98
genres listed above. Perhaps IKT conventions create the visual appearance of this texture to
facilitate a mode of performance.
Of course, Merulo’s intabulation doesn’t just feature substantial changes in texture
through IKT conventions; the notes from Lasso’s original are altered substantially in the
intabulation, largely to accommodate the extensive ornamentation. It is common to observe
intabulators altering or even removing notes from the tablature in order to create textures more
suitable for the keyboard. This can be seen in Bertoldo’s intabulation of Frais et galliarde
(Example 1.12). Notes from Clemens’s polyphony are either removed or altered, both to
accommodate wide intervals (the removal of the alto and tenor notes in measure 9), and for
ornamentation (the removal of notes from the same parts in measure 10). As in Merulo’s
intabulation of Susanne un jour, the polyphony in measure 10 is simplified to create an idiomatic
accompaniment texture for the passaggio in the top staff.
99
The alteration seen in these two examples makes the music both playable and idiomatically
suitable to the keyboard. It could therefore be described as effecting the same change as IKT
conventions: translating polyphony into an idiomatic texture and style. This notion is supported
by further examination of the repertoire. For example, the five-voiced chansons intabulated in
Merulo’s Terzo Libro are for the most part effectively reduced to four-voice textures, the normal
number of voices in cinquecento keyboard repertoire (this can be seen in Example 1.11 above).
46

Example 1.13, from Bertoldo’s Or vien ça vien, shows another instance of “conversion,” here
caused by both IKT convention and by substantial alteration. The complicated polyphony,

46
Merulo's third book of intabulated canzoni differs from his first two – which consist of intabulations of the
composer's own a4 instrumental works – in that it features intabulations of four a5 vocal chansons (three by
Crecquillon as well as the ubiquitous Susanne un jour by Lassus). Claudio Merulo, Terzo libro de canzoni
d'intavolatura d'organo fatte alla francese (Venice: Gardano, 1611). Interestingly, two of the works – Susanne un
jour and Crecquillon's Oncques amour – are also used by the same composer as models for imitatio masses.
Missarum quinque vocum. Liber primus.. (Venice: Gardano, 1573).
100
difficult to play on keyboard, is simplified to create an idiomatic chordal texture that is
comparable to abstract keyboard works from the period.
The shared “goals” of IKT convention and intabulation process suggest a large grey area
between the two, and determining how the practice of altering polyphony in intabulation related
to each of them is particularly relevant for the present study. From a modern standpoint,
alteration would typically be seen as compositional practice, and surely classified as part of the
agency of the intabulator. But perhaps it should be classified as an element of IKT convention: if
the laws of notation dictated a visual appearance that made the music more accessible to
keyboardists (in order to make it easier to read), maybe altering polyphony to fit under the hands
(to make it easier to play) should be considered a notational convention as well. Alteration could
be classified in a way similar to the addition of ornaments in early music: applied with relative
101
freedom on the one hand but on the other obligatory to add.
47
In addition, there is arguably a thin
line between alteration and the IKT conventions demonstrated above. For example, we’ve seen
that IKT conventions demand that the intabulator arrange notes between the staves in a manner
that would facilitate keyboard playing; when an intabulator alters the notes to accommodate a
cadential passaggio, or to form a polyphonic cadential formula common to cinquecento
keyboard music, could this not be seen as an extension of this practice? The IKT convention of
breaking longer notes into shorter ones could also be seen as a case of alteration.
48
While
distinctions can be made between IKT's notational conventions, minor alterations to make the
music playable or idiomatic for the keyboard, and larger-scale recomposition, it seems
reasonable to view these three domains as points on a continuum, rather than set categories.

Intabulation Process, Notational Convention, and Diruta’s Intabulation Method
These problems of classification suggest that the precise nature of the relationship between IKT's
notational conventions and intabulation process (and, for that matter, compositional process)
should be established. As the alteration of polyphony in intabulations is clearly, even by
conservative analysis, a step removed from outright compositional (or recompositional) practice,
viewing alteration as part of IKT’s notational conventions would have profound effects upon our
understanding of keyboard compositional process. In addition, clarifying the nature of the
relationship between the two would help shed light on the development of IKT’s conventions –

47
To put it another way, Coelho and Polk argues that alteration is “inevitable” as a part of translation; “Intabulation,
like translation, is a bilingual exercise, and within translation theory, belongs to an intersemiotic category in which
verbal signs (text, and music/ text relationships) are translated into signs of non-verbal systems, meaning that
alteration is almost inevitable (emphasis mine),” Coelho and Polk, 219.
48
As mentioned earlier, the decision to restrike or hold the note is best viewed as the domain of the performer. Still,
the visual presentation perhaps changes the music on some level.

102
specifically, whether they developed out of intabulation practice, or instead acted as an a priori
influence on it.
Interestingly, the sole historic source to treat the process of intabulation in IKT, Girolamo
Diruta’s well-known keyboard treatise Il Transilvano, seems to tie alteration to notational
convention, in that both are treated in his instruction on intabulation.
49
Diruta’s intabulation
guide is found in the second volume of the treatise (published in 1609), in a section entitled
Regola de Intavolar qual si voglia Cantìlena.
50
Diruta’s work stands out for being the sole source
to address intabulating keyboard music in IKT.
51
It is also notable for its late date of publication,
as the first printed Italian book of keyboard music in intavolatura format, Antico’s book of
intabulated frottole, was published in 1517, predating Diruta’s work by almost one hundred
years.
52
Diruta’s work can also help to clarify the relationship between intabulation and IKT

49
Girolamo Diruta, Il transilvano: Dialogo sopra il vero modo di sonar organi, et istromenti da penna, 2 vols.
(Venice: Vincenti, 1593, 1609). The section on intabulation is found in the second volume, which was published as
the Seconda parte. Note that the "seconda parte" is divided into books, each with its own pagination; this will be
reflected in my citation practice. See facsimile edition of both volumes: Diruta, Il Transilvano (Bologna: Forni,
1969). For a modern English translation, see Diruta, Il Transilvano, translated and edited by Murray Bradshaw and
Edward J. Soehnlen (Henryville: Institute of Medieval Music, 1984).
50
Diruta, Transilvano, vol. 2, bk. 1, 1-14.
51
Diruta, Transilvano, Ibid. The paucity of instructional material for arranging in Italian keyboard tablature is not
the case for other tablature systems. For an overview of historic sources on Italian lute tablature, see Dinko Fabris,
“Lute Tablature Instructions.” Fabris’ study shows that brief instructions for tablature were common in Italian lute
books. The most complete treatment of intabulation in Italian lute tablature notation can be found in Vicenzo
Galilei’s treatise Fronimo.
Intabulation guides were also more common in printed books of German organ tablature, perhaps due to the
relative novelty of their notation systems. For more on German tablature notation and the process of intabulation,
see Cleveland Johnson’s important study: German Organ Tablatures. In particular, see 29-60; 111-22.
52
Andrea Antico, Frottole intabulate per sonare organi libro primo (Rome: Antico, 1517); facsimile ed. (Bologna:
Forni, 1970). This was the first printed volume from the Italian peninsula to use a two-staff mensural notation with
the word intavolatura; all of the arrangements are anonymous – or perhaps made by Antico himself (or a "house"
intabulator?). A brief perusal of the arrangement procedure indicates many of the same functional rules described
earlier regarding the Venetian prints. The second Italian print of keyboard intavolatura, Marco Antonio Cavazzoni’s
Recerchari, motetti, canzoni … libro primo (Venice: Bernardo Vercelensis, 1523), also shows many of the same
features (thanks to Liuwe Tamminga for the facsimile copy of this edition). So far, there has been one model
identified for the intabulations in this volume: Josquin's Plusierus regretz is arranged as Plus ne regres. See Martin
Picker, "A Josquin Parody by Marco Antonio Cavazzoni," Tijdschrift van de Vereniging voor Nederlandse
Muziekgeschiedenis 22 (1972): 157-59. Picker notes that this intabulation is "a kind of parody, or paraphrase," in
that it doesn't stick to the structure of its model. Ibid.: 158.
For a detailed analysis of this intabulation, see Leon Chisholm, "Keyboard Playing and the Mechanization
of Polyphony in Italian Music, Circa 1600" (PhD diss., University of California, Berkeley, 2015), 27-37. See also

103
convention; although not a discourse on notation, elements of the latter are described when
teaching how to intabulate.
Diruta’s chapter on intabulation can be roughly divided into two parts, based upon what
Diruta describes as two modi of intabulating: in the first, he shows how to intabulate “simply”
(that is, without diminution), and in the second, he provides a method for intabulating with
diminutions (L’intavolare diminuito). He addresses the practice of altering a model’s original
voice leading at the end of the first section, which otherwise consists of instruction on the
elementary steps in intabulating. Diruta begins by instructing his fictional student-interlocutor to
make a partitura of the polyphonic model (ostensibly from part-books).
53
The student is then
instructed to begin copying the parts of the original polyphony in the order of soprano, bass,
tenor, and alto. The examples proceed in difficulty by virtue of the the number of voices in the
model (progressing from two to four).
Along the way, Diruta refers to many of the notational conventions demonstrated in the
first part of this chapter. While there are a few instances in which they are referred to explicitly,
for the most part they have to be inferred from his text. On some occasions their existence even
seem to be contradicted by his text, while at the same time often clearly observable in his
musical examples. Diruta’s text has to be accepted as being unclear to a degree in this sense;
however, the divergences between Diruta’s method and the observed conventions of IKT are
illuminating, and can, to a degree, help distinguish between elements of notational convention
and elements of intabulation process. For example, Diruta does describe removing rests from the

John Ward, “Parody Technique in 16th-Century Instrumental Music,” in The Commonwealth of Music, in Honor of
Curt Sachs ed. Gustave Reese and Rose Brandel (New York: Free Press, 1965): 208-28.
53
Diruta’s treatise is typical for the time in taking the form of a Platonic dialogue between the author and a
fictionalized interlocutor, in this case the titular Transylvanian.
104
parts of his model when copying them into IKT (to not “entangle” the notes – “acciò non
intrichino le notte”):

My reply is that when there is some part on the five- or eight-line staff, you must
not use rests there lest they crowd the notes. You sometimes put in short rests to
make the voice entries clear and also to complement the notes, as you see in the
fifth measure in the middle part and also at the beginning of the ninth measure in
the soprano part. In the fourteenth measure, you will find that I do not write the
soprano as a third part because the imitation enters on a unison with the bass.
54

Missing from this advice is the practice of adding rests that aren’t in the model at all – the
various “fake” rests, whether they be mechanical, clarifying an entrance, or part of a musical
figure. He does talk about leaving some of the rests from the original model in the intabulation in
some instances, to “accompagnare le notte.” This seems to refer to the added rests used to clarify
entrances of notes in the tablature.
Diruta seems to directly contradict observed practice at times, for example in his
description of stem direction:

Having divided up all the parts, start intabulating the soprano on the five-line staff
with two beats per measure. Then intabulate the bass on the eight-line staff. Be
careful to place the notes right under those of the soprano and also to turn the
stems of the soprano up and those of the bass down so that you can better
accommodate the inner parts. When you have intabulated the outer parts,
intabulate the tenor above the bass on the eight-line staff. This will produce one of
these consonances – unison, third, fifth, sixth, or octave. Take care that if the
tenor is over an octave above the bass, you intabulate it under the soprano on the
five-line staff. Similarly, intabulate the alto above the bass, either above or below
the tenor. But when the alto is an octave above the bass, write it on the five-line
staff either below or above the soprano. It should also be observed that at times
the tenor passes below the bass. The middle parts, namely the tenor and alto, are
suited to either the eight- or the five-line staff, whichever is more convenient for

54
"Vi rispondo, che quando le cinque righe, over le otto sono occupate da qualche parte, non si devono mettere le
pause, acciò non intrichino le notte. Li sospiri, alle volte si mettono per fare intendere le parti quando entrano, &
anco per accompagnare le notte, come si vede nella quinta casa, con la parte di mezo, & anco nel principio della
nona casa nella parte del Soprano. Nella decima quarta casa trovarete, che non metto il Soprano della terza parte,
perche la fuga entra Unisono, con il basso."
Diruta, Il Transilvano, vol. 2, bk. 1, 4. Translation by Murray / Soehnlein, Transylvanian, 2:9.

105
playing diminutions. To make it easy for you, I shall begin to partition songs for
two, three, and four voices. After you will have grasped the manner of
partitioning and intabulating with four voices, you will then be able to intabulate
also for five, six, seven, and even eight voices by observing the same procedure.
55

Diruta does indicate that the soprano part should take upward stems, the alto lower part
downward stems, and so on, but it appears as if he is instructing his student to take the soprano
part from the model and apply stem directions, rather than to form a composite soprano part
formed of the highest sounding tones in the composition, as in the practice examined earlier. In
fact, his advice seems to contradict this practice; he simply describes copying out the model’s
parts with a single set of stem directions, and there is no indication that he is talking about any
“parts” other than the ones from the model. There is certainly no reason to suspect that he is
actually referring to seguente-style parts formed of the vertical array of notes in the texture, and
he makes no mention of working out voice-crossings as one puts the parts in tablature (instead,
he seems to indicate copying the entire soprano part from the model), or working out the stem
directions on another score or alla mente before intabulating the complete parts. A process like
this would have to be undertaken in order to make the stem directions work as seen in IKT

55
"Divise c’haverete tutte le parti, incominciarete ad intavolare il soprano nelle cinque righe à due battute per
casella, e poi intavolarete il Basso sopra le otto righe. Avertendo di fare le notte dritte à quelle del Soprano, & che le
gambe delle Notte del Soprano siano voltare in sù & quelle del Basso in giù, per poter melgio accomodare le parti di
mezo. Intavolate c’havrete le parti estreme, intavolarete il Tenore nelle otto righe, sopra il Basso, qual verrà à fate
una di queste consonanze, Unisono, Terza, Quinta, Sesta, over Ottava, avertendo, che quando passa l’Ottava sopra il
Basso, bisogna intavolarlo sotto al Soprano nelle cinque righe. Similmente il Contralto s’intavola sopra il Basso, e
sopra, over disotto al Tenore. E quando passa l’Ottava sopra il Basso, si potra nelle cinque righe di sotto, over di
sopra al Soprano: & anco, è d’averritre, che alle volte il Tenore passa di sotto alle cinque, per commodità di fare le
diminuitioni. Et per facilitarui, incominciarò à partire un Canto à due voci, à tre, e à quattro. Inteso c’haverere il
modo di partire, & intavolare à quattro, potrete poi anco intavolate à cinque, à sei, à sette, & anco à otto, osservando
il medesimo ordine." Diruta, Transilvano, vol. 2, bk.1, 2-3. English translation by Murray & Soehnlein,
Transylvanian, 2:4.

106
practice.
56
Interestingly, Diruta’s own musical examples demonstrates the same procedure as
seen in the intabulations, therefore contradicting his own text (Example 1.14).
Diruta’s handling of unisons is also different from what is typically observed in the intabulations.

56
It is unclear as to whether the voice crossings were arranged in the process of intabulation or in the preparatory
work, i.e., arranging the polyphony in score (partitura). In describing the “pre-intabulation” process, Diruta writes
“Prima dovete haver la Cartella rigata, eccetto le due ultimi poste, delle quali una sarà di cinque righe, et l’altra di
otto, come travarete in diversi luoghi; poi pigliarete la parte del Soprano, et lo partirete à due battute per casella.
Nella seguente posta il Contr’alto, seguitando poi con l’istesso ordine il Tenore, & il Basso, come per gl’esempii più
chiaramente intenderete.” It could be that he is not describing simply copying the part-book soprano into the score,
but a process in which the intabulator would see where parts crossed to extract the highest-sounding seguente-style
soprano part. That said, Diruta’s examples, which contain both the partitura and the two staves of intavolatura
below it, clearly demonstrate that the stem directions are changed in the process of copying the score into tablature.
Diruta, Transilvano, vol. 2, bk. 1, 1.
107
Initially, he doesn’t explicitly mention the practice of representing unisons between parts with
one note (with what looks like a single part); instead, he ties unison practice to a rather specific
instance, occasions in which the first note of a subject happens to form a unison with a note
already struck:
When you find that one part forms a unison with another, and that both form
some subject or answer, you must srtike the unison with both hands, and after
striking the unison let one of the parts hold it and let the other go its way.
Similarly when the imitation begins on a unison, on the strong or weak part of
the beat, it is necessary to restrike the unison in order to make the imitation
heard. This is what you ought to observe in all the parts with regard to the
unison not only with two but also with three, four, and more voices.
57

Diruta does seem to explicitly mention the IKT unison practice later on in the discussion, but
only in passing and, curiously, again related to a very specific instance, when addressing
intabulating pieces in more than four voices. Here, Diruta states that, between the Quintus part
and its counterpart, one should take care that, between the parts, “ci nascono delli unisoni,” again
mentioning the importance of keeping the soggetto clear when it begins on a note already held by
another voice.
58
The fact that Diruta is more concerned with keeping entrances of soggetti intact
– and only mentions the fundamental IKT treatment of unisons in passing – perhaps indicates
that IKT's unison practice was to be understood as common knowledge.
59

57
"Quandro troverete una parte, ch’entra Unisono nell’altra, e che tutte due faccino qualche soggetto, over risposta,
bisogna battere l’Unisono con tette due le mani, & che doppò battuto l’Unisono, una delle parti stia ferma, & l’altra
daccia il suo viaggio. Similmente quando comincia la fuga nel Unisono, nella prima over seconde parte della battuta,
è necessario battere l’Unisono per far sentire la fuga. Questo è quanto dovete osservare intorno all’Unisono non
tanto à due, ma anco à tre, a quattro, & à più voci in tutte le parti. Hor c’havete inteso il modo di far la Partitura à
due voci, seguitiamo l’ordine di partire, & d’intavolatre à trè voci." Diruta, Il Transilvano, vol. 2, bk. 1, 2.
Translation by Murray / Soehnlen, Transylvanian, 2:6.
58
Diruta, Il Transilvano, vol. 2, bk. 1, 10.
59
It is also interesting to note that Diruta is specifically referring to an instance involving imitative polyphony.
Perhaps surprisingly, Diruta’s concern with preserving the integrity of imitative passages – a running theme in his
instructional material, particularly in the application of diminutions – does not typically coincide with the
intabulation practice examined here. In intabulations of ricercars by Jacques Buss and Sperindio Bertoldo (of works
from Padovano’s 1556 collection of part-book ricercars), the intabulators demonstrate a rather striking disregard for
the preservation of soggetti – when intabulating works in a genre that is essentially founded on the principal of
imitative polyphony. Bertoldo, Toccate, Ricercari; Buus, Intabolatura d’organo di ricercare.
108
IKT's other notational irregularities are not explicitly stated in Diruta’s text, only being
alluded to indirectly or not mentioned at all, even as they appear in the musical examples as just
demonstrated; in the case of stem directions, his advice seems to contradict practice as observed
in the repertoire. This dissonance suggests a conceptual difference between notational
convention and the practice of intabulation, even if they are closely intertwined – after all, Diruta
is describing the process of intabulation, rather than the laws of notation. Perhaps the fact that
Diruta doesn’t mention these explicitly, but shows them in his examples, is suggestive of the fact
that they were to be taken as given – “natural laws" that were commonly understood.
60
The
notion that notation and intabulation process should be viewed as distinct is also supported by
the fact that most IKT intabulations demonstrate the conventions with a fair amount of
consistency, even when they “break the rules” to show polyphonic detail (as seen above, in the
Castell’Arquato intabulation). Intabulations that do so may very well be intended to function as a
kind of full score; the fact that intabulators seem to “slip up” and fall back on IKT convention
shows that the conventions constituted standard practice from which intabulators consciously
deviate. The fact that IKT functions are usually present on some level would indicate that they
should be viewed as distinct from intabulation.
At the same time, all of the IKT conventions that are mentioned by Diruta are done so as
part of his description of the intabulation process, indicating that there was at the least
considerable overlap between intabulating and notation. For example, rests are removed from
tablature as part of Diruta’s intabulation method (“non intrichino le notte”), but this feature is
observed in the “free” (i.e. model-less) keyboard music as well, as are the other IKT

60
He even frames his instruction with the rather evocative advice, “In tutte la professioni è sonnamente necessario
saper le sue Regole, senza le quali sarebbe un’incaminare al buio” – do the “rules” here indicate the laws of notation
in addition to the process of intabulation? Diruta, Il Transilvano, vol. 2, bk. 1, 1.

109
conventions.
61
While Diruta’s text is unfortunately not clear enough – in fact, it is marred by
contradictions – to fully support either viewpoint, it certainly does support the notion that there is
a considerable grey space between them. After all, his advice is only suitable for intabulating in
IKT, not in any other format: in this sense, notational conventions and intabulating are wholly
interdependent. While intabulation was distinct from IKT’s notational conventions, the two
overlapped considerably.
To return to the issue of alteration, it is interesting that the last problem Diruta addresses
in this first section refers to the problem of awkward leaps between parts, and the need for the
intabulator to recompose sections to make the texture playable on keyboard:

T: When the soprano or bass are at extreme pitches and one of the middle parts has
an imitaive theme, may I place the soprano an octave lower and the bass an octave
higher in order to play the imitative theme in the middle?
D: Sometimes you may do it. At other times you won’t want to transpose the bass
to the octave above since you have to be careful that the tenor does not form a
fourth below the bass, for this would not be good. Also, the soprano transposed to
the octave below might prove awkward with the middle parts. When no such
defect arises, you can do this. If it does, you can then arrange the soprano a third,
fourth, or fifth lower, but only if it agrees with the other parts and does not form
parallel fifths or octaves.
62

Diruta indicates that the voice leading of the model may be altered to accommodate
counterpoint that is difficult to play on the keyboard, but only in certain cases. In this, Diruta is
actually quite cautious, and his advice is not reflective of the extent of practice in much of the
repertoire; for instance, Diruta neglects to mention the practice of omitting notes from the

61
As mentioned earlier, previous studies by Silbiger, Clericetti, and Boncella largely dealt with IKT functioning in
abstract pieces.
62
"T: Quando il Soprano, overo il Basso sarà estremo, & che faccia la fuga una parte di mezo, potrò io collocare il
Soprano all’Ottava bassa, & le parte del Basso, all’Ottava alta, per poter fare la fuga di mezo?
D: Alcune volte lo potrete fare, & alcune voltenò volendo trasportare il Basso all’Ottava di sopra; dovete avertire,
che il Tenore non faccia Quarta di sotto al Basso, che non staria bene: così il Soprano traportato all’Ottava bassa,
potria impedire le parti di mezo. Quando non nascerà tale incoveniente lo potrete fare: Nascendo poi potrete
accommodare il Soprano una Terza, ò Quarta, over Quinta bassa, pur che accordi con le altre parti, & che non faccia
due Quinte, nè due Ottave." Diruta, Il Transilvano, vol 2, bk. 1, 10. Translation by Murray / Soehnlein,
Transylvanian, 2:18
110
original polyphony, an occurrence that happens with considerable frequency. Diruta’s
cautiousness is obvious when comparing his advice to the elaborate published intabulations seen
in the previous section; these intabulations freely alter and omit parts, and for idiomatic reasons,
such as adding ornamentation, not just for awkward intervals between parts. Despite his cautious
stance, however, Diruta considers the alteration of polyphony a normal part of the intabulation
process – after all, it is included as a basic step, right along with putting the notes on the page
and adding rests – and this intabulation process includes elements that we have seen as IKT
irregularities. By extension, could this mean that alteration should also be seen as a part of
IKT’s notational conventions?
Perhaps, while on a fundamental level separate phenomena, intabulation process and
IKT's notational conventions were intrinsically linked, and alteration occupied a space that
overlapped with both of them. If so, every time music was written down in the format, it had to
obey the same rules of intabulation – which include both IKT conventions as well as a version of
the entire process described by Diruta – regardless of whether the model was an existing piece of
polyphony, a conceptual “model” that existed only in the mind of the composer, or a
transcription of an improvisation. In this view, IKT would actually be an agent in forming
musical style, actively shaping elements that would normally be considered to be compositional.
The fact that free keyboard music and intabulations “behave” in similar fashion would seem to
support this, and the fact that the majority of music notated in IKT is relatively easy to play –
that is, it fits under the hands in an idiomatic way – also supports this view. In contrast, the
works of the Neapolitan composers Trabaci and Mayone, whose works are published in full
score (partitura), are notably full of awkward stretches and passages near-impossible to play as
written, even as the style of ornamentation is clearly tied to keyboard conventions (see Example
111
1.15).
63
If these composers had published their works in IKT, they would be playable, as IKT
convention would demand that they be altered to be so as part of the intabulation process, which
in turn is embedded within the notation itself.
64
In this view, IKT would function in a quasi-
algorithmic fashion. That is, it functioned as system that automatically and mechanically
converted polyphonic textures into ones idiomatic for the keyboard.
Idiomatic style is therefore inherent within the conventions and logic of IKT itself. I can
give an example to demonstrate some potential ramifications of viewing IKT as an algorithmic,

63
Ascanio Mayone, Primo libro di diversi capricci per sonare (Naples: Constantino Vitale, 1603), and the Secondo
libro di diversi capricci per sonare. (Naples: Gargano and Nucci, 1609); facsimile copies supplied by the Museo
internazionale e Biblioteca della musica di Bologna. Giovanni Maria Trabaci, Ricercate, canzone franzese, capricci,
canti fermi…. à quattro voci: Libro primo (Naples: Constantino Vitale, 1603); facsimile ed. (Florence: Studio per
Edizioni Scelte, 1984). Giovanni Maria Trabaci, Il secondo libro de ricercate & altri varij capricci; facsimile ed.
(Florence: Studio per Edizioni Scelte, 1984).
64
In addition, this raises questions about the development of IKT’s conventions, and in turn, their relationship to the
practices of intabulation: did these laws develop out of intabulation practice? Or did intabulation practice follow an
already developed set of notational conventions as an a priori set of conditions?

112
systematic process. Alexander Silbiger begins his article with an analysis of a toccata by Andrea
Gabrieli, pointing out that IKT conventions hide an underlying imitative polyphonic structure,
meaning that the piece is less “free” than may be initially presumed (in this case, “free” meaning
not composed of strict counterpoint).
65
Does this mean that Gabrieli, at some point in the
compositional process, prepared a more or less polyphonic version – conceptually, we might say
that this version was notated in full-score, even if, in reality, this score only existed in the mind
of the composer – and that he was “forced” to hide this structure because writing the music down
in IKT demanded that he do so? Or, put another way, does writing anything down in IKT entail
using an intabulation process similar as described by Diruta and as seen in the analyses at the
beginning of this chapter? If this is true, every piece notated in IKT would be automatically
subject to the alterations caused by IKT’s embedded intabulation process.

A Model for Analyzing Intabulations
The question of distinguishing between intabulation process and notational convention is not
only useful for analyzing intabulations, but also for analyzing compositional process in keyboard
music notated in IKT. This dissertation explores this topic from several angles, all of which can
be approached, as a starting place, through an analysis of the intabulation process as
demonstrated in this chapter. The potential utility of intabulations for studying cinquecento
keyboard compositional process can be demonstrated by examining the more elaborate
intabulations in the repertoire.
66
These intabulations are elaborate largely in their application of
ornamentation, which often forces substantial recomposition. In fact, many of these intabulations

65
Silbiger, “Tablature?”
66
These include the intabulations of Claudio Merulo (published in three volumes, dated 1592, 1606, and 1611), as
well as many attributed to Andrea Gabrieli and Bertoldo, in addition to several manuscript intabulations. For
example, see the intabulations, one anonymous and one attributed to Ercole Pasquini, in the Trent Codex: Silbiger,
Trent. See the Appendix for the anonymous intabulation (of Lasso’s Susanne un jour).

113
could be classified as a type of imitatio, even as the fundamental harmonic or contrapuntal
structure of their model often remains intact.
67
In occupying a space between intabulation and
composition, they present many challenges when analyzed within the lens of intabulation
process. They also invite the examination of two key problems in considering IKT conventions
as part of compositional process. The first is in regard to analytical process: the complicated
nature of these intabulations – which often invites multiple interpretations – demands a stable
and consistent analytical methodology. The second regards the fundamental nature of the
intabulation process itself: was it always a fully writing-dependent system, or does musical
evidence suggest the role of improvisation as well? I will begin by addressing the first of these
issues.
Analyzing intabulation process in IKT should be straightforward, at least if understood as
a simple process, as suggested by Diruta’s method.
68
It should be noted that, further on, Diruta
does provide a method to what he calls intavolatura diminuito. However, it is largely concerned
with the classification of ornamentation, and many of the complexities seen in the repertoire are

67
In this they differ from what is traditionally understood as imitatio composition in the Renaissance. Supporting the
notion that there was considerable overlap between parody composition and intabulations are the intabulations of
Marco Antonio and Girolamo Cavazzoni; these rework the structures of their models, and often freely use motives
to compose new music, to the point that they are more akin to imitatio composition. In contrast, the elaborate
intabulations of Andrea Gabrieli and Claudio Merulo typically retain the structures of their models. It is notable that
Andrea Gabrieli composed three imitatio ricercars (entitled "ricercar sopra...") of vocal works; in these parody
ricercars, subjects of the vocal works are reworked contrapuntally. Interestingly, in the printed volumes these
immediately follow elaborate intabulations that maintain the structure of their models, albeit under substantial
ornamentation.
Perhaps it is this overlap between intabulating and imitatio compositio that led to Diruta to state that
“L’intavolare diminuito è un’arte giudiciosissima, & si ricerca essere buon Cantore, & anco buon Contrapuntista.”
Diruta, Il Transilvano, vol. 2, bk. 1, 10. For the classic study on instrumental parody composition in the
Renaissance, see John Ward, “The Use of Borrowed Material in 16th-century Instrumental Music,” Journal of the
American Musicological Society 5 (1952): 88–98.
Coelho challenges the notion that intabulations are parody composition, as parody compositions are not
translations – both model and imitatio work are in the same “language” of polyphony. Coelho and Polk,
Instrumentalists, 218-19.
68
As will be demonstrated shortly, this may be a faulty assumption to make in the first place; having said that,
Diruta’s method is the sole extant guide from the period, and therefore makes a de facto starting place for lack of
other options.

114
not addressed. In fact, alteration is only mentioned briefly, and in the first section, which is
somewhat ironic, as the application of ornamentation in one part often requires the alteration or
omission of notes from the other parts. There is a considerable gap between Diruta’s text and
what is seen in practice in elaborate intabulations.
Diruta also seems to tie intabulation, and the application of ornamentation, directly to the
basic method of applying the individual parts to the intabulation, telling his Transilvanian student
that, when approaching the second method, he “graduated” from having to put the parts in
partitura:
Because you have practiced intabulation from open score so well, this second
method will be easier for you, since you can intabulate the parts without placing
them in open score. Follow the system above, however, by first beginning to
intabulate the soprano and bass and then the middle parts.
69

Diruta clearly indicates that elaborately ornamented intabulations are grounded in the basic
fundamentals of intabulating, and therefore it is reasonable to accept these fundamental steps as a
starting place for the analysis of intabulations in IKT.
70
Individual parts of the model should be
traceable in the intabulation, and alterations to the polyphony structure of the model categorized.
However, this approach is often undermined by complex situations that suggest multiple
interpretations of deviations from the model’s polyphony. Example 1.16, an excerpt from

69
"Fatto c’havete buona pratica d’intavolare sopra alla Partitura, assai più facile vi sarà quest’altro secondo modo:
poi che senza partire le parti potrete intavolare, osservando però il modo sudetto, prima incominciarete ad intavolare
il Soprano, e il Basso, & poi le parti di mezo." Diruta, Il Transilvano, vol. 2, bk. 1, 10. Translation by Murray /
Soehnlen, Transylvanian, 2:18. Once again, notably absent from Diruta’s instruction is the need to arrange the parts
so that the highest-sounding notes of the soprano form a composite part made of the highest sounding tones, and so
on; as mentioned earlier, this is a practice that would require pre-planning, and it is curious that Diruta once again
doesn’t mention anything that could even be construed as referring to it.
70
Regarding the role of ornamentation in elaborate intabulations, Diruta provides a brief discussion that classifies
them and briefly demonstrates their application, but ultimately allows two arrangements (of canzoni by Mortaro and
Giovanni Gabrieli) to speak for themselves, advising the reader to follow these and other “tablatures by various
skilled men” as examples to follow in a continued pursuit of the art. In this sense, Diruta follows many other
instrumental treatises from the period, advising the student to seek models to imitate rather than providing a
complete method. Specifically, Diruta recommends the intabulations of Claudio Merulo: “Più facile vi sarà
l’intavolare diminuito; perche essaminando diversi essempii, che sono per darvi, & l’intavolature de diversi
valenthuomini, & in particolare quelle di Claudio Merulo, il quale più de ogn’altre se è affaticato in questa bell’arte
d’intavolare diminuito come si vede in diverse sue Opera Stampate; Messe, Ricercari, Canzon alla Francese, e
Toccate.” Diruta, Transilvano, vol. 2, bk. 1, 10.
115
Merulo’s Susanne un jour, demonstrates such a case. In measure 49, on the first beat, the
model’s Altus f' could be viewed as being omitted in the intabulation; it could also be seen as
being transposed down an octave (and therefore part of the left-hand chord), with the Quintus d'
the omitted note. If the Altus f' is understood to be the omitted note, this would mean that the
Quintus d' is transposed down a sixth to form the f in the left-hand chord. The b-flat' breve in the
soprano presents similar complexities. At first glance, it seems to be altered in the intabulation,
transposed up to an f'' (or, the alto’s f' could have been transposed up an octave); however, it is
part of a passaggio that continues from the previous measure, meaning that it is probably best
seen as “skipping over” the note temporarily as it travels (this is common in sixteenth-century
116
diminution practice).
71
However, the ornament on the first beat manages to briefly touch upon
both the Cantus b-flat''t and the “missing” Altus f'. Does this mean that the intabulation actually
maintains these notes? And, if the Altus f' is seen as being kept, the Quintus d' is the note that is
transposed.
Situations like this suggest that a relatively systematic analytical approach should be
established. It should be assumed that Diruta’s method suggests that a basic process of
intabulation was adopted, at least as a foundation.
72
Much of the complexity in analyzing
intabulation involves deciding which individual notes are altered, and which are omitted. As
Diruta doesn’t mention omitting notes (only altering them), it seems safe to assume that, in cases
that are ambiguous, the de facto analytical position is to assume alteration over omission.

71
In Transilvano, Diruta classifies his diminutions as two groups: minute, which are passaggi that occur in the
course of the piece, and groppi, cadential formulae (Diruta’s other ornaments are shorter gracing figures; see note 68
below for a further explanation of Diruta’s treatment of diminution). In doing this, Dirita follows standard practice;
also following sixteenth-century practice, Diruta’s minute either begin and end on a single note, or travel over the
course of an interval, essentially connecting the two notes.
The practice and style of sixteenth-century ornamentation can be seen clearly in the multitude of
diminution treatises published throughout the course of the century. For more on late sixteenth-century
ornamentation in particular, see Bruce Dickey, “Ornamentation in Early Seventeenth-Century Italian Music,” in A
Performer’s Guide to Seventeenth-Century Music, 2nd. ed., ed. Stewart Carter, rev. and ed. Jeffrey Kite-Powell
(Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 2012): 293-316. For late sixteenth-century diminution practice in
particular, see 295-302.
For a thorough examination of Claudio Merulo’s ornamentation practice, see Charles M. McDermott,“The
Canzoni d’Intavolatura”: see especially 1-53; 144-181. McDermott divides keyboard ornaments into three
categories: ornaments that “sought to enhance certain structural aspects of a composition”; those that were “used as
a vehicle to demonstrate the skill and dexterity of the performer”; and those that were “suggested by technical and
physical factors of the instrument.” McDermott, “Canzoni,” 43. Further on, he describes the second class –
“virtuoso” ornaments – as frequently using “the whole note and even the breve as the time unit being ornamented,
resulting in a reduction of the melody to a mere outline of its original self.” Ibid., 159-60. This is typical in the
“elaborate” intabulations in the repertory.
72
Coelho and Polk are quite critical of the traditional approach to analyzing intabulation, at least in the case of lute
intabulations: “Until now, the traditional procedure for studying intabulations has been to begin with the vocal
source as a model, examine the intabulation derived from it, and then work from the intabulation back to the model
in order to assess differences and similarities. In truth, however, the intabulation occupies a middle ground between
model and target, and the flow moves in the opposite manner. Rather than mirroring (or distorting) its model, an
intabulation suggests instead the presence of a newer readership to which it is aimed.” Coelho and Polk,
Instrumentalists, 215.
The target of his criticism seems to be those who hold the traditional view of intabulations as wholly
derivative of their models. In this case, he is of course entirely correct. At the same time, Diruta’s method makes it
quite clear that intabulators in IKT worked in a step-by-step process of arranging parts from the model, and the
analytical stance taken here is grounded in that methodology.

117
However, the intabulations themselves show that omission is adopted much more than alteration;
in Merulo’s intabulation of Crecquillon’s Oncques amour, for instance, there are 35 instances of
alteration, and 50 instances of omission; in the same composer’s intabulation of Susanne un jour,
there are 57 instances of notes altered, and 153 notes omitted.
73

In looking for alterations and omissions, it is clear that the would-be analyzer should
adopt a reductive process beginning with identifying the notes that are kept from the model.
When doing this, it becomes clear that, due to IKT conventions, these notes must be taken on a
moment-by-moment basis, without regard to the voice leading in the model. That this is the case
can be demonstrated in Example 1.17, from Merulo’s intabulation of Oncques amour (see
below). When tracing the model’s voice leading in measure 4, we quickly establish that the
Cantus, Altus, and Tenor parts are present in the intabulation (the Tenor's long c' forms the
division in the left hand); due to IKT convention, the Altus's notes appear as if belonging to
multiple parts in the intabulation. However, only the two g's from the Quintus (on the third and
fourth beats) are present in the intabulation. At the same time, the intabulation contains notes that
aren’t from the model: the g' at the bottom of the right-hand chord on the first beat, the c'' in the
chord on the second beat, and the e' in the bottom staff on the last beat. The Quintus e' on the
first beat of measure 4 can be viewed as being transposed upward to make the g' in the chord,
with the quarter-note f' on the second half of the beat similarly becoming the c'' in the chord. In
these instances, IKT conventions are applied to the altered notes, seamlessly incorporating them
into the keyboard texture. This works on a minim-by-minim basis: the Quintus e' is altered to a g'
on the first minim beat; that g' is tied to the Altus g' on the second beat, and so on. Due to IKT

73
In calculating these figures, I have treated ambiguous instances that could be interpreted as either alteration or
omission as if they were alterations.
118
conventions of stem direction and voice crossings, these two tied g's appear as if in the same
“voice” in the intabulation.
Rather than considering the notes of the Quintus as part of an independent polyphonic
voice, the intabulator seems to use each note as an individual piece of raw material, organized in
distinct segments, with each segment the length of a minim. This can be seen clearly if we trace
what looks like the lowest “part” of the right-hand staff in the intabulation. The g's are taken
from two voices: the first g' from the transposed Quintus, which is tied to the second g', taken
from the Altus; the third and fourth g's from the Quintus, and the last b' from the Altus. It is
119
almost as if the intabulator is viewing the model as four distinct minim-long chunks that
“verticalize” and segment the texture.

How Were Elaborate Intabulations Composed?
Of course, there may be a simpler explanation behind the creation of Merulo’s intabulation: that
he simply bypassed the procedure described by Diruta and freely recomposed the piece for
keyboard. Take the cadential ornament in measure 3: this could be viewed as a complicated
procedure in which Merulo transposed the Altus c"-d''-c'' figure on beats one and two to create
the a' in the bottom staff of the intabulation, and then (breaking rules of counterpoint) suddenly
brought in the c" from the model to form the cadential 4-3 figure (the Cantus motion from f"-d"
is clearly ornamented by the passagio on the second beat, and the 4-3 figure in the intabulation
seems to come out of nowhere). Or, we could simply see Merulo recomposing the music by
superimposing a passage of common keyboard figuration that follows its own musical logic. In
fact, Merulo’s cadences demonstrate a great amount of consistency in their figuration and voice
leading, suggesting that they may have been formulae.
74

It is interesting that the amount of alteration in these pieces directly contradicts the
conservative stance taken by Diruta. As mentioned above, Diruta treats elaborate intabulation
largely as a problem of ornamentation, classifying and describing the application of specific
figures.
75
However, when it comes to applying ornamentation, Diruta clearly indicates that the

74
The fact that these figures are consistent in their disposition of parts and specific musical figures may indicate that
they are in fact formulae developed through keyboard playing and internalized in memory (see Introduction). They
are polyphonic units, but not in a way in which each voice is conceived independently. Instead, the “parts” are
formulaic, gracing figures rather than truly independent voices, performed automatically through the fingers. In this
sense they are vertical, as their parts are not conceived independently.

75
At the same time, it must be remembered that intabulations didn’t necessarily need to incorporate ornamentation;
the art of diminution, not necessarily tied to any particular instrumental medium, occupied a fundamental aspect of
Renaissance instrumental performance, as demonstrated by the sheer number of diminution treatises from the

120
intabulator should concentrate on applying passaggi to individual parts of the model.
76
In
contrast, many intabulations seem to follow a logic dictated by the ornamentation, with passaggi
freely traveling from part to part (in a manner obviously related to bastarda ornamentation), and
the other parts fit in as necessary to accommodate them. Diminution was a fundamental
component of the art of the cinquecento keyboardist, and the repertoire strongly suggests that it
must considered in tandem with the arrangement process itself.
77
Typical ornamentation practice
can be seen in Example 1.18, from Claudio Merulo’s intabulation of Crecquillon’s chanson
Content ou non.

sixteenth century. For an introduction to sixteenth-century ornamentation and its primary source material, see
Howard Mayer Brown’s still-important guide, Embellishing Sixteenth-Century Music (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 1976). In general, the keyboard ornaments in Venetian music appear to be somewhat conservative when
compared to the ornaments found in contemporary divisions treatises for melodic-instrument players. For a
comparison of some ornamented superius parts from these treatises with keyboard versions of the ubiquitous
Susanne un jour, please see McDermott, "Canzoni," 144-49. Johnson also provides a comparison of incipits of
Susanne intabulations in German tablature sources; Johnson, Tablatures, 137.
Lastly, Giuseppe Clericetti compares Gabrieli’s setting of the chanson Martin menoit with an anonymous
setting in the Turin tablatures; interestingly, he points to the distinctively “Venetian” style of ornamentation in many
of the settings in this important manuscript source; Giuseppe Clericetti, “Martin menoit son porceau au marché:
Due intavolature di Andrea Gabrieli,” in Musicus perfectus: Studi in onore di Luigi Ferdinando Tagliavini 'prattico
& specolativo' nella ricorrenza del LXV compleanno (Bologna: Pàtron, 1995), 147-83.
76
When describing the ornamentation in the analyses in this chapter, I will adopt Diruta’s terminology and
classification system. See Diruta, Transilvano, vol. 2, bk. 1, 10-21, for Diruta’s treatment of ornamentation in
elaborate intabulations. Diruta classifies his ornamentation into five categories: the minuta (diminutions of a single
line, which can either begin and end on the note being ornamented, or travel from the first note to the second); the
groppo (cadential formulaic ornaments); the tremolo (an upper-note trill beginning on the main note); the accento;
and the clamatione (these latter two ornaments are shorter gestures, and reflect the aesthetics of the nascent Baroque
period). He then demonstrates the application of the ornaments to individual parts in short examples of polyphony.
His section on ornamentation ends with two examples – an intabulation of Giovanni Gabrieli’s La spiritata and a
canzona by Antonio Mortaro. For the latter, he labels the ornaments based upon his classification system.
Bastarda-style ornamentation is also commonly seen in intabulations in IKT, but is not directly mentioned
by Diruta. For more on viola bastarda music and technique, please see Jason Paras, The Music for Viola Bastarda
(Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1986).
77
Much of the ornamentation is related to viola bastarda practice, in which a single-line instrumentalist ornamented
multiple parts in a polyphonic composition, “leaping” from part to part rather than sticking with one. Common in
IKT intabulations are instances in which a line of bastarda ornamentation runs “freely” over reduced and simplified
polyphony, forming a texture of accompaniment and a solo ornamental part, as well as instances in which the
bastarda line coexists with the original polyphonic structure. In this latter case the intabulation essentially mimics a
common sixteenth-century two-instrument texture in which a solo contrapuncto or bastarda solo is accompanied by
another instrument playing a full polyphonic texture; examples include Terzi’s lute duets (in which the ornamental
bastarda lute part is called a contrapuncto) and the viola bastarda repertoire. See Suzanne Elizabeth Court, “The
Role of the Lute in Sixteenth-Century Consorts: Evidence from Terzi's Intabulations,” Performance Practice Review
8 (1995): 147-70. McDermott pointed to the similarities between Merulo’s elaborate intabulations and Terzi’s duos;
see “Canzoni,” 159.
121

In this example, bastarda-style ornaments can be seen in measures 46 and 47: an ornament
beginning on the Altus e' on beat 2 travels to the Bassus d' on beat 3, and the Cantus d" on the
third beat of measure 47 travels to the Quintus d'. In addition to bastarda ornaments, it is
common to observe minute – passaggi that begin and end on the note that they are “dividing” –
122
that include notes that are omitted from other parts.
78
This can be seen in measure 44 of Example
1.18, on the last beat: the Altus f' is technically omitted, but it is “included” in the minuta on the
Cantus a'. These types of ornaments are common in Merulo’s and Gabrieli’s intabulations; they
allow the intabulator to artfully include notes that are otherwise omitted in the intabulation, in a
more idiomatic fashion (see, for example, the first example of measure 46). In some cases,
passaggi manage to cover notes that would be unplayable in a strictly polyphonic texture, due to
excessive gaps between parts. In a sense, this practice can be compared to style brisé in later
French Baroque lute and keyboard repertoire, in which chords were “broken” through artfully
irregular arpeggiation and patterns of chord-spreading.
79
In addition to these style brisé-style
passaggi (that evoke later style brisé practice but are nonetheless linear diminutions), instances
of actual broken chords can be found. This can be seen in Example 1.18. At the end of the first
measure in the example, the Cantus and Tenor II parts are broken, suggesting the style of spread
chord breaking typical of harpsichord style in the later Baroque. Like the style brisé-like
ornaments of the later Baroque period, these types of ornaments are perhaps especially suited for
plucked keyboard instruments.
80

The ornamentation practices seen here bring us back to the question of process: did the
intabulator begin by copying the voices from the model into tablature, in a matter similar to that
described by Diruta, or did he work out an arrangement (again, whether alla mente or on paper,

78
This phenomenon is described by Diruta as well (or rather, by his fictional interlocutor):”Digratia dichiaratime
quelle diminutioni fatte sopra la parte del Soprano, & anco sopra l’altre parti, quali entranno una nel’altra, & viene à
perdere parte della sua armonia, &alle volte tutta.” Diruta, Transilvano, vol. 2, bk. 1, 14.
79
Syle brisè was an idiomatic technique that was tied to the sonority of the instrument itself. See David Ledbetter,
"Style brisé,” Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online. Oxford University Press, accessed January 5, 2015,
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.libproxy.usc.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/27042.
80
This would make sense, as Diruta specifically suggests Merulo’s works for plucked keyboard instruments, despite
the former’s notorious dislike for these instruments as well as those who play them. See Diruta, Transilvano, 1:5v-
6r. This is also despite the fact that Merulo’s published keyboard volumes all carry the title “d’intavolatura
d’organo,” regardless of content. This phrase most likely refers to the notation, rather than prescribing the organ as
the preferred instrumental medium. For more on possible stylistic markers of harpsichord playing in early Italian
keyboard music, see Luigi Ferdinando Tagliavini, “The Art of 'Not Leaving the Instrument Empty,” 299-308.

123
or a mixture of both) and then intabulate that pre-composed arrangement? And if not following a
tablature method as described by Diruta, what might the recompositional process look like? As a
starting place, some general stylistic tendencies can be observed in the intabulations that suggest
recomposition over a Dirutian process of intabulation: (a) a “polarization” between staves /
hands, with a tendency for one hand to play ornaments and the other to play chordal
accompaniment
81
; (b) the importance of the seguente outer voices over the middle ones; these
often frame harmonies that are used to compose new figuration and chord voicings in seemingly
free fashion; of special importance is the seguente bass part (in general, all of the examples
shown here demonstrate a tendency to preserve the sounding bass over the other parts of the
model); and (c) the superimposition of idiomatic figures; this can be seen most often in cadences,
but often in other passages as well. All of these can be tied to the cinquecento keyboard style
described above.
But as we have seen, a careful reading of Diruta seems to indicate that even elaborate
intabulations were grounded in a basic intabulation method, even as the extent of alteration, and
the application of idiomatic keyboard textures, seem to challenge this notion. Perhaps, rather
than following one or the other, intabulators mixed both a process of step-by-step intabulation
with recomposition. This hypothesis is supported by the intabulations themselves: in Example
1.19 (from Merulo’s Oncques amour), the alteration in measure 37 seems to be more readily
explained as recomposition. However, in the next measure, where a new point of imitation
begins, Merulo is careful to include all of the original voices (even the tenor c', not initially
present, is covered in the bastarda ornament).

81
McDermott ties this texture – common in Merulo’s intabulations in particular – to the earlier fifteenth-century
practice of improvising counterpoint to canti fermi, and also to the style of accompaniment in works such as Ortiz
and the virtuosic lute duet. McDermott, “Canzoni,” 154-59.
See Diego Ortiz, Trattado de glosas sobre clausulas.. (Rome: Luis and Valerio Dorico, 1553). Accessible on
imslp.org; http://imslp.org/wiki/Trattado_de_Glosas_(Ortiz%2C_Diego). Accessed on March 1, 2017.
124
The hypothesis is also supported by recent research on intabulations in other notational
formats, as well. In the case of lute intabulations, Victor Coelho challenges the assumption that
the original polyphony even had to serve as the model for an intabulation:
..lutenists, like translators of Latin texts, seem to be aware that the source-
model might itself be a translation, perhaps of some live performance as
part of the compositional process of the work (emphasis mine) , rendering
the translator as justified in adapting his translation.
82

In the case of Merulo’s intabulations, perhaps these works are better viewed as intabulations of
Merulo’s virtuosic performances of the models – learned partly by ear, developed on the
keyboard, and internalized in memory – not intabulations of the models at all. This point was
also recently raised by Leon Chisholm, regarding Marco Antonio Cavazzoni's intabulation of
Josquin's chanson Plus ne regres; Chisholm notes that the intabulation's "structure suggests that
its composition was not so much the result of a careful study of Josquin's chanson as it was the

82
Coelho and Polk, Instrumentalists, 218.

125
fruit of aural memories that the chanson had left in Marcantonio's ears."
83
The same statement
could be applied to the elaborate intabulations examined above, even as they retain more of the
structures of their models than does the Cavazzoni intabulation.
However, this raises important questions about the process of creating these "aural
memories" – in other words, how exactly was this (as Coelho and Polk put it above) "live
performance as part of the compositional process of the work" executed? For example, what
notational medium did a virtuosic performer-intabulator such as Claudio Merulo or Andrea
Gabrieli use when playing a vocal work? It seems as if there would be three options: (a) part-
books; (b) a "short score" comprised of the seguente treble and bass parts (this would be
reflected in IKT's emphasis on the highest and lowest sounding notes of the texture);
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or, (c) a
"simple" intabulation (that is, one devoid of diminution), as described by Diruta. And,
independent of the notational medium, memory must have played a significant role; one could
easily imagine a process in which one (or several) of the notational formats were used as part of
a fluid process involving the frequent playing through of the model from memory, with
reworkings and diminution added through improvisation. And, as noted in the Introduction, this
line of inquiry raises more questions about the precise nature of the "model" in abstract
keyboard compositions that share identical stylistic surface features as intabulations.

83
Chisholm, "Mechanization," 29.
84
See, for example, the Royal College of Music manuscript below, in Example 1.25. Although these "short scores"
are typically associated with accompaniment, this would not, of course, prevent their use in the creation of
intabulations. I use the phrase “short score” after the usage of Imogene Horsley in her important article, “Full and
Short Scores in the Early Baroque,” Journal of the American Musicological Society 30 (1977): 466-99. Horsley
points to the important role of the short score as an accompaniment tradition in printed vocal music in the decades
surrounding the year 1600.
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IKT and Composition: A Summary
To return to the question raised at the beginning of this section – that of the relationship between
notational format, intabulation, and compositional process – it seems clear that IKT could have
an effect on compositional process in several ways. The relationship between lute intabualtions
and "free" composition is an active field of scholarship, and it is now generally accepted that
intabulation was a fundamental part of the compositional process – both pedagogically and
practically – in the creation of so-called “free” (that is, model-less) lute works.
85
I will describe
some basic ways in which IKT could be seen as influencing compositional process; these can be
organized into three basic categories:
(a) Verticalization and Segmentation. IKT demonstrates a vertical conception of
polyphony. All of the tablature elements I’ve highlighted in this chapter can be tied to the
creation of a portrayal of musical reality that is fundamentally chordal in its nature. For example,
the favoring of the outer sounding voices of the texture over the integrity of the inner ones
polarizes the texture in a way that partly foreshadows the “trio sonata” ideal of the early
seventeenth century. Many of the idiomatic stylistic features seen in the intabulations also
demonstrate this “verticality”: the polarization of ornaments and chords; the favoring of the
seguente outer parts, particularly the bass, over the inner ones; and the superimposition of
keyboard figures, such as stereotypical cadential formulae. In fact, as shown above, the
intabulation process itself seems to result in an automatic verticalizing and segmenting of the
polyphonic texture, as the intabulator had to precisely consider the vertical alignment of the parts
at given rhythmic points, typically at the minim.

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For a general introduction to this research see, Coelho, “Workshop.” Polk and Coelho write: “At the fundamental
level, tablature allowed for preservation of improvised music and a resulting codification of style and repertory.
Most importantly, tablature became lute, vihuela, and guitar players’ new workbench of assembling – intabulating –
polyphonic vocal parts into a single instrumental arrangement of vocal music. Intabulations allowed instrumentalists
to make the jump from two or three players improvising one or two parts against a tenor, to a single player
composing and performing complete four- and five-voice polyphony.” Polk and Coelho, Instrumentalists, 212.
127
(b) Self-Fashioning in IKT. IKT conventions, combined with IKT’s use of mensural
notation over figures, allow for a duality analogous to the one between intabulation process and
idiomatic recomposition: as we have seen, IKT’s conventions seem to “convert” polyphony into
an idiomatic style, but at the same time, the use of mensural notation could allow intabulators to
circumvent the rules to show precise details of a model’s voice leading. In Chapter 3, I argue that
intabulations demonstrate the tendency to favor one approach over the other, and these
tendencies may be read within a theory of self-fashioning: that arrangers exploited the “laws” of
the notation system to highlight either recomposition and alteration, or the faithful transmission
of polyphony. “Elaborate” or “virtuosic” intabulations – which I call "sounding images" – fully
use IKT’s conventions to obscure polyphonic structures and the voice leading of vocal models,
while “faithful” intabulations – which I call dotte partiture – exploit IKT’s use of mensural
notation to circumvent IKT conventions; this is done to demonstrate fidelity to the original
model.
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To some extent, the process of these particular intabulations entailed the creation of a
performance identity through print.
(c) IKT as tablet. Lastly, IKT could also function as a “tablet.” In the use of the word
tablet, I am specifically referring to the erasable tablets used in Renaissance composition; the
concept was most thoroughly covered in Jessie Ann Owen’s important study Composers at
Work.
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However, I’m using the term conceptually and symbolically as well. In referring to IKT
as a tablet, I specifically mean the tablet’s function as an open space upon which musical
problems could be worked out, without the finality of committing the music to paper (composers
in the Renaissance didn’t have the benefits of the eraser). In other words, I am referring to the

86
This resonates with McDermott’s “structural” and “virtuosic” dichotomy; see Note 63 above.

87
Jessie Ann Owens, Composers at Work: The Craft of Musical Composition 1450-1600 (New York: Oxford
University Press, 1997), 74-107.
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potential role of IKT as a compositional “workshop,” to borrow terminology from Coelho. In
this sense, IKT is a tablet on a symbolic level, although interestingly enough, Owens points out
that erasable tablets were apparently prepared for use in IKT, and Diruta’s use of the word
cartella may specifically refer to the erasable tablet.
88

Within the tablet analogy, IKT could have an influence on composition on some practical
levels as well. As Coelho notes in the case of lute intabulation and compositional process, a
major part of the notation’s influence on composition may have been on the pedagogical level –
if the process of intabulation was used as a step towards learning how to composer, surely its
techniques made their way into the compositional process.
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In addition, we’ve already seen that
the very conventions of IKT itself may alter the music, resulting in the reduction and translation
of polyphony into an idiomatic keyboard language, in an algorithmic fashion. This is especially
the case if intabulation process is seen as an element of IKT convention, as described earlier,
with alteration equally a part of both. In addition to alteration, other elements of the intabulation
process may therefore also be "algorithmic" and part of IKT’s conventions, such as the
application of ornamentation. In addition, common procedures observed in intabulation process
could conceivably translate into composition: for example, the use of brief voice exchanges is
seen in some intabulations, a technique that could be used in the composition of new keyboard
music.
The way that intabulators conceived of music through the lenses of intabulation and IKT
convention could affect the way they composed on a conceptual level as well. For example, as
seen above, intabulations often demonstrate the recomposition of polyphony into textures that
consist of ornaments in one hand and chordal accompaniment in the other. This could affect the

88
Owens, Composers, 94-95.
89
Coelho and Polk, Instrumentalists, 212-13.
129
way that keyboardists wrote abstract or “free” keyboard music on a conceptual level, informing a
compositional process that involved a temporary focusing on a primary part (say, the soggetto of
a ricercar) at the expense of the others. In this scenario, the other, non-primary parts would be
composed on simple harmonic criteria, rather than as “independent” polyphonic voices.
But IKT’s influence as a compositional medium could work on an even deeper level, too.
On a theoretical level, viewing IKT as a “tablet” raises interesting questions: do IKT and its
conventions reflect the way keyboardists thought about music, or did IKT actively influence
keyboard thought? (Or a mixture of both?) In his analogy of intabulation as translation, Coelho
describes some of the characteristics of the new “vernacular” language of lute intabulation:
As motets and Mass movements cross into secular, domestic environments,
soloistic figuration, cadential ornaments, occasional parallel intervals, unprepared
dissonance, and truncations of the original usually prohibited in the writing of
sacred music are permitted, producing a new “vernacular” in translation that is not
limited by language or religion.
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All of these musical features have been described above as part of idiomatic keyboard writing,
and they all appear, to some degree, in the intabulation examples in this chapter. It is possible
that, rather than viewing these features either as superficial products of IKT convention, or as
artistic license on the part of the intabulator, they should be viewed as products of natural law in
IKT. In other words, parallel octaves are allowed in IKT because its notational laws operate
differently from those of standard mensural notation – it is in some sense a universe separate
from that of vocal polyphony. IKT reorganizes mensural notation’s polyphony into new
structural arrangements: independent polyphonic voices are temporarily merged through IKT
conventions such as stem direction treatment, a process amplified through the application of ficta
and ornamentation. Rather than merely being visual by-products of notational convention, the
“parts” in IKT, formed through stem direction and other conventions, are musical reality as

90
Polk and Coelho, Instrumentalists, 218.
130
experienced – and developed by – keyboardists. They are not fictitious or fake – in fact, they are
just as “real” as the original polyphonic parts.

IKT’s Universe: Tablature Voices
The notion of IKT representing a type of keyboard-specific “musical reality” was first raised by
Alexander Silbiger; it comes up as part of his discourse on the tablaturishness of IKT:
However, could it be that intovalatura notation, with its emphasis on the
vertical at the expense of the horizontal, reflects an earlier recognition by
Italian keyboard players of the rising to the foreground of the harmonic
aspects when full-voiced passages are performed on their instruments, and
thus, might it have formed a progressive strain in their thinking about music?
If such were indeed the case, intavolatura should not be regarded as a
tablature, since it would represent musical reality as conceived in the minds –
not just in the hands – of those musicians [emphasis mine].
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Silbiger situates IKT within an emergent awareness of “harmonic aspects” by cinquecento Italian
keyboardists (right before the cited passage he identifies these as formally indicated by the arrival
of basso continuo).
92
Silbiger’s notion of IKT representing “musical reality as conceived in the
mind… of those musicians” is perhaps actively reflected in what may initial be observed as a
simple visual by-product of IKT convention: in the “new” voices that IKT seems to display through
its notational conventions. I would like to formally identify these new polyphonic constructs as
“tablature voices.” They are largely created by IKT’s practice of stem directions, as dictated by
the vertical placement of notes in the score, although all of the other IKT conventions reinforce
their existence.
The phenomenon of tablature parts can be seen clearly in Example 1.20, from another
intabulation of Frais e galliard, this one by Bertoldo (the phenomenon of tablature voices can also

91
Silbiger, “Tablature?”: 98.
92
Ibid.
131
be seen clearly in Gabrieli’s intabulation of this chanson as well – see Example 1.1). When tracing
the route of each of the model’s parts through the tablature, many instances can be seen in which
voice-crossings are obscured by stem direction. Beyond simply obscuring the original voice
leading, IKT’s stem direction practice creates the appearance of new voice leading not in the
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original polyphonic structure, as the eye of the player tends to follow musical lines implied by the
succession of notes sharing the same stem direction.
These tablature voices are reinforced by IKT’s other conventions, as can be seen in
Example 1.21, from the same intabulation. Here, the intabulation seems to clearly present four
distinct parts; a closer examination, however, reveals that they are largely “fictitious” (to borrow
terminology from Silbiger), created by the IKT conventions of stem directions, unisons, and
restriking. The rest in measure 35 is a “fictitious” rest, but works seamless within the logic of the
“fictitious” tablature “tenor” part in the left hand. In essence, the player is left with an alternative-
reality version of the model; while the parts in the intabulation may largely reflect the parts of the
model, they don’t entirely. Beyond simply being a visual phenomenon, however, tablature voices
arguably reflect the way that intabulators thought about their models conceptually. Instances can
be found that suggest that intabulators often followed the logic of the tablature voices over the
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ones from the model. This can be seen in Example 1.21, again in measure 35: the alto g’ only
makes sense as part of the alto tablature voice; it makes no sense in terms of the model’s
polyphony.
Two more examples demonstrate intabulators creating a new logic of the tablature voices:
in Example 1.22, from Merulo’s Susanne un jour, the left-hand passaggio follows the composite
lower part, migrating from the Bassus to the Tenor to the Quintus in the course of the first measure.
In Example 1.23, from Merulo’s Oncques amour, a cadential groppo decorates voice movement
– a cadential resolution – that is only found in the tablature voices, not in the real ones, further
reinforced with added ficta.
I would argue that both instances demonstrate intabulators “thinking in tablature” (or
tablature voices). These examples suggest that tablature voices reflect the way that keyboardists
conceived of polyphony. I would argue, in fact, that the tablature voices embody the compositional
tablet in which a composer worked, on both literal and symbolic levels. The traditional view of
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intabulation (and, by extension, IKT) is derivative – that is, intabulations follow their models. But
what if there existed a composition process that started with tablature voices? In other words, what
if the normal order were reversed, and a piece was composed in IKT (and therefore conceived in
tablature voices) and then detabulated (to borrow a coinage by Silbiger).
93
If this detabulated piece
were then reintabulated, it might look something like the elaborate intabulations examined above.
This hypothetical process would help explain the hybrid nature of these complicated arrangements.

93
Silbiger, “Tablature?,” 81.
135
Tablature voices have some notable echoes in other types of early keyboard notation, and
these comparisons support the notion of their existence. A comparison could be made, for
example, between IKT’s tablature voices and the “parts” of German and Spanish keyboard
tablatures. These systems are not conceptually dissimilar to a full score (the difference being, of
course, that they are of made up of symbols, representing physical keys, rather than note signs
that represent tones). In his survey of German intabulations, Cleveland Johnson points out that
some intabulations faithfully transmit the original polyphony, and some rearrange the polyphony;
in the case of the latter, the rearrangement is to put the notes in “a vertical alignment in which
notes are ordered consecutively by pitch.”
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The more elaborate rearrangements in books such as
Bernhard Schmid’s Zwey Bücher einer neuen kunstlichen Tabulatur show a remarkably similar
procedure to what is seen here: in essence, the “parts” created in IKT through stem direction
directly mirror the parts of German organ tablature, in which each line represented a part (see
Example 1.24 below). In the case of German intabulations that rewrite the voice leading for the
sake of vertical alignment, each line is given a “false” composite part, identical to the “false”
parts I’ve described in Italian intavolatura.
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This can be seen clearly in Schmid's intabulation of
Ung gai bergier (Example 1.24). Another parallel can be drawn between IKT’s tablature voices
and the nascent forms of notation used for accompaniment in Italy in the latter half of the
sixteenth century. IKT itself was one of these early alternatives to basso continuo.
96
Many of

94
Johnson, "Tablatures," 118
95
Johnson discusses intabulation in German organ tablature that rearrange the voice leading of their models, in order
to fit under the hands in more idiomatic fashion. There are strong parallels with IKT’s priorities: “What is clear
though, even if the horizontal movement is ambiguous, is that the goal of such rearrangement is a vertical alignment
in which notes are ordered consecutively by pitch.” Interestingly, Johnson also cites the prefaces of Bernhart Schmid
and his son, who mention rearrangement: Schmid the Elder writes, “So ist auch ein jetliches Gesang also resoluiert,
das allwegen die höchste Stimm hinauf gesetzt, zum / theil umb bessers gesichts willen, zum theil auch, das es
leichter zuschlagen,” and Schmid the Younger, “…. so hab Ich auch an die principia Muices Vocalis mich nicht
binden können: Sondern hab je zu / weylen, bevorab in Coloraturen, von Herren Componisten und Authoren
praescripto abwiechnen, und wil mehr wie es der Hand bequem falle erwegen müssen.” Johnson, “Tablatures,” 118.
96
Intavolatura format often served as a “proto-continuo” notation, and this function of intavolatura as a notation for
keyboard accompaniment may partly explain some its notational irregularities, in particular the prioritization of the

136
these formats, such as basso seguente, demonstrate tendencies markedly similar to IKT’s
conventions. In the case of basso seguente, an accompanying organ part was formed by
extracting a bass line from the lowest sounding notes of the texture.
97
In another format, often
referred to as “short score,” a basso seguente part was joined by a soprano seguente part made

seguente upper and lower parts. For more on the role of intabulations as accompaniment in Italian practice, see H.
M. Brown, Sixteenth-Century Instrumentation: The Music for the Florentine Intermedii (American Institute of
Musicology, 1973), 22-24.
97
Peter Williams and David Ledbetter, "Basso seguente,” Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online, accessed
January 5, 2015. http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.libproxy.usc.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/02279

137
up of the highest sounding pitches, forming a two-part “skeletal” keyboard score from which a
keyboardist could extrapolate a triadic accompaniment.
98
This can be seen in Example 1.25,
from the keyboard manuscript Gb-Lcm ms. 2088. In fact, the false “soprano” and “bass” parts
created by ITK’s practice of stem direction are conceptually the same as the “soprano” and
“bass” parts in a short score. It has been suggested by Howard Mayer Brown that this
manuscript in particular could have been used as a springboard for solo performances.
99
This
would make sense, as in fact these seguente short scores simple provides the player with the
outer two tablature voices, which are formed by the same principal. If the player already knew
the basic harmonic structure, if not the actual inner voices, of a given composition, it is easy to
imagine that she or he could use a short score as an aide-mémoire for solo performance as well
as for accompaniment.

98
When playing from a short score, the accompanist would ostensibly “fill in” the space between the seugente
soprano and bass parts with triadic harmonies. Given that the harmonic language of music of the late sixteenth
century was largely grounded in triadic harmonies in the form of either 5/3 or 6/3, this technique would result in the
correct harmony for much of the time; the player could then alter the chords as necessary to accommodate
suspensions and other non-triadic sonorities.
The similarity between the practice of treatment of stem directions in intavolatura and the short score is not
surprising, given that accompaniment was undoubtedly one reason for which keyboardists made intabulations. The
fact that intabulations were used for the purpose of accompaniment is reflected in Agazzari’s well-known quip
regarding the burden of having to make intabulations or scores: “poiche se si havessero ad intavolare, `o spartire
tutte l’opere, che si cantano fra l’anno in una sola Chiesa di Roma: dove si fa professione di consertare,
bisognarebbe all’Organista che havesse maggior libraria, che qual si voglia Dottor di legge..” Agostino Agazzari,
Del sonare sopra’l basso con tutti li stromenti (Siena: Falcini, 1607), 12.
Many instances of Italian intabulations being used specifically for accompaniment can be cited; to mention
two well-known examples: the accompaniments in Diego Ortiz’s treatise, and those in Luzzaschi’s famous 1601
madrigal collection. Diego Ortiz, Trattado de glosas; Luzzasco Luzzaschi, Madrigali per cantare et sonare a uno, e'
doi, e' tre' soprani … (Rome: Verovio, 1601). Ortiz’s work indicates the role of the keyboard in instrumental
accompaniment in the Renaissance, and contains two intabulated vocal works against which solo-line players would
perform diminutions.
In his study of German organ tablatures, Cleveland Johnson points to the important role of tablatures as
written-out accompaniments for choral music; in fact, the majority of these tablatures, at least those in manuscript,
seem to be for this purpose. Johnson, Tablatures, 128-35.
For more on the role of written-out accompaniments in the early Baroque in general, see Gregory Johnston,
“Polyphonic Keyboard Accompaniment in the Early Baroque: An Alternative to Basso Continuo,” Early Music 26
(1998): 51-64.
99
Howard Mayer Brown, Instrumental Music Printed Before 1600; A Bibliography (Cambridge: Harvard University
Press), 343.
138

IKT as Mimesis

IKT and Lute Tablature
However, another strong parallel can be made between IKT and a sixteenth-century notational
format: Italian lute intavolatura. This comparison may also be fruitful with regard to answering
the question posed by Silbiger’s article: “Is Italian Intavolatura a Tablature”? Silbiger was not
the only commentator who puzzled over the apparent disparity between the use of mensural
139
notation and the use of the word intavolatura by sixteenth-century scribes and publishing houses;
in fact, earlier commentators such as Apel didn’t consider IKT a true tablature at all.
100
In this
view, IKT’s conventions would be dismissed as archaic features that don’t fundamentally alter
the musical information they convey. (That this view was prevalent is indicated by the lack of
care given to these conventions when creating modern editions of music notated in IKT.)
101

A large part of the reason for IKT's irregularities is, as many commentators have pointed
out, that IKT was fundamentally “mechanical,” in the sense that the notation was intended to be
read for playing, rather than to show polyphonic detail.
102
Many of the conventions can be
directly linked to the need to create a visual texture that is easy to read. I would also argue that
they can be directly linked to the physical actions related to playing the keyboard. This notion is
actively supported by much of Diruta’s language, which often speaks of intabulating in terms
suitable for performance, not writing music down on paper. For example, in describing unisons,
Diruta writes, “bisogna battere l’Unisono con tutte due le mani, & che doppò battutto
l’Unisono…” (emphasis mine)
103
– the verb he uses, battere, is directly tied to a physical action,
not to writing music down. In many of the passages already cited, Diruta clearly refers to
intabulation within the context of playing (for example, “Le parti di mezo, cioè il Tenore, & il

100
Apel treats prints in IKT under the general category of “keyboard scores,” noting that they are written “in a
manner similar to that of the piano score of our day.” Willi Apel, The Notation of Polyphonic Music 900-1600, 5th
edition (Cambridge: The Mediaeval Academy of America, 1953), 3. He does acknowledge the sixteenth-century
terminology, but doesn’t apparently see it as a “true” tablature; see 14-15.
101
See, for example, H. Colin Slim’s editions of the keyboard music of Castell’Arquato. H. Colin Slim, ed.
Keyboard Music at Castell’Arquato, in 3 vols, Corpus of Early Keyboard music 37 (Middleton, WI: American
Institute of Musicology, 1975-2005).
102
Silbiger writes: “One way of characterizing tablature notation is to say that it provides no information beyond
what is required to realize a piece phyiscally; or to put it less kindly: tablature addresses the fingers of the players
rather than their musical understanding – their bodies rather than their minds. For example, lute tablatures and
German keyboard tablatures do not distinguish between enharmonically equivalent notes such as G-sharp and A-flat,
since while such a distinction tells us something about the musical function of those notes, it does not affect their
performance on a lute or keyboard.” Silbiger, “Tablature?": 93.
103
Diruta, Transilvano, vol. 2, bk. 1, 2.
140
Contralto s’accomodano come piu piace, nelle otto righe, overo nelle cinque, per commodità di
fare le diminutioni”); it is clear that intabulating was one step removed from playing.
This mechanical aspect of IKT partially explains the use of the word intavolatura.
However, IKT differs substantially from other types of keyboard tablature in the Renaissance. As
seen earlier, the other major tablature systems – namely, German and Spanish keyboard tablature
– operate functionally like a full score: each line of tablature indicates a fully formed “voice,”
even if in the case of these system letters or numbers indicate the physical keys of the instrument,
rather than signs indicating tones. In contrast, Italian intavolatura provides mensural notes that
signify tones, but no way of distinguishing the voice leading in a composition. Perhaps the
ambiguity stems from the fact that scholars have traditionally tended to attempted to define the
notation through its divergence from modern keyboard notation; for example, while Silbiger
certainly conceded that IKT had “tablaturish” elements, he assumed that IKT was a variant of
standard keyboard notation. But what if we viewed IKT within the conceptual framework of lute
intavolatura instead? Italian lute intavolatura was a format produced by the very same printing
houses that produced volumes in IKT. It could be argued that, in the mind of cinquecento Italian
scribes, printers, and composers, lute intavolatura was the natural – and automatic – point of
comparison to IKT. This is of course indicated by the shared used of the word “intavolatura.”
Comparing the two formats reveals some interesting parallels. For example, in Italian
lute notation, polyphonic detail is also hidden: each line of the tablature represents one of the
instrument’s strings, and the figures in the tablature indicate the physical frets of the instrument,
as can be seen clearly in Example 1.26. A mensural note above the staff indicates the rhythmic
value of each figure or note in the tablature, which continues as the dominant rhythmic value
until another one takes its place. In essence, the rhythmic value subsumes the texture, reducing
the rhythmic individuality and contour of the original voices and creating vertical “blocks” of
141
activity. This mirrors the segmentation and verticalization of the texture seen in IKT; and, in a
general sense both notational systems emphasize verticality at the expense of voice leading. Lute
intavolatura’s rhythmic system segments its polyphonic texture into chunks in a way directly
parallel to that seen above in IKT’s intabulation process. And although the particulars of lute
intavolatura’s rhythmic system doesn’t really transfer to IKT, many elements do, such as the
tendency to break longer notes into shorter ones, forming regular chordal structures; the
treatment of unisons; and the lack of polyphonic rests. All of these have strong parallels in IKT’s
conventions. I would like to suggest that, at least to publishers and composers of the cinquecento,
Italian keyboard intavolatura was thought of as a close relative to lute notation, with a
functionality that went beyond a shared terminology. Perhaps the two-staff system literally
represented the keyboard, with each note of the tablature a physical symbol – conceived just like
a number or letter figure in lute tablature – representing a key, rather than a sounding tone. This
142
would explain why, for example, unisons aren’t notated: the notes in the tablature represent the
physical keys of the keyboard.
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While an examination of IKT intabulations shows that the concept holds up for the most
part, some caveats must remain. For example, notes in the middle of the keyboard can
potentially appear in either the top or bottom staff, showing that, if taken as visual images of the
keyboard, the two staves actually overlap. This would seem to partly debunk the theory. Perhaps
it is better to view the two staves as two separate visual images, each one a representation of a
particular section of the keyboard; in other words, IKT consists of two separate windows onto
the keyboard, each one representative of the domain of either the right or left hand.
This hypothesis is supported by the notation used in the Neapolitan organist Antonio
Valente's 1576 volume Intavolatura de cimbalo. Valente's notational format – the only example
of its kind (in the preface Valente explains that he invented it himself) – has long been assumed
to be a version of Spanish organ tablature, primarily due to the fact that it uses the same
numerical figures (which represent the white keys of the keyboard).
105
However, its particular
combination of characteristics also make sense if the notation is viewed as a hybrid between
Italian lute and keyboard intavolatura notations. Its rhythmic flags are exactly the same as seen
in Italian lute intavolatura, and while numbering the keys is a feature of Spanish organ tablature,
it is not conceptually far removed from the numbers representing frets seen in Italian lute
tablature. More notable, however, is the horizontal division of the tablature between the left and

104
The notion of iconic notation is taken from Cristle Collins Judd: “There are times when notation serves a purely
iconic function – we are meant to see notation, but not hear it. At other times, the notation serves as a generalized
reminder of music as sounding phenomenon, and at other times, the notation is meant to be ‘read’ and ‘heard,’
although the reading and hearing may take many forms.” Cristle Collins Judd, Reading Renaissance Music Theory:
Hearing with the Eyes (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 8.
105
See, for example, Robert Judd, "Italy," in Keyboard Music Before 1700, ed. Alexander Silbiger (New York and
London: Routledge), 272-73. This assumption is also held by Diego Cannizzaro, "Legami tra Spagna e Italia
meridionale," Revista de Musicología 34 (2011): 185-201. In particular, see 194-99 for a useful discussion on
Valente's print and its unique notational system.
143
right hands (marked "D" and "M," for "dritta" and "manca"), which directly mirrors the
functioning of the two staff systems in IKT (see Example 1.27). It can therefore be seen as not
only a hybrid, but arguably a glimpse into the thought processes and mutual flow of influence
between the two notational formats.

IKT and Mimesis
However, a close examination of IKT intabulations reveals further problems with my theory. For
example, playing through the intabulations of Andrea Gabrieli frequently shows small break-
downs of the conventions if followed literally; for example, the left hand is left holding a long
note that clashes with a passaggio in the right hand, even as IKT conventions would normally
dictate a series of rests to force the left hand out of the way. Gabrieli’s intabulations often show
144
an understanding of IKT that is conceptual rather than literal, although at many other points his
tablatures do strive towards a literal dictation of when fingers should depress and release keys.
106

IKT conventions therefore often have to be taken as general tendencies rather than as absolute
dictates. With this in mind, perhaps a better description of IKT’s conceptual basis would be that
its symbols represent the actions of placing and removing the fingers from the physical keys of
the instrument – in other words, IKT embodies the player herself, rather than the instrument. In
this view, IKT functioned like a piano roll, with the player the mechanical implement that
realized the coded performance.
107
Writing of lute and keyboard intabulations generally, Howard
Mayer Brown noted that
The volumes of music published by these men are thus the closest thing to
phonograph records that we shall ever have from the sixteenth century, for they
preserve personal, idiosyncratic versions of well-known compositions as they
were performed by leading sixteenth-century virtuosi.
108

This well-known statement speaks to a fundamental truth of tablature notation and intabulations.
At the danger of superimposing a modern way of thinking on the sixteenth century (specifically,
a desire for or imagination of the ability to make audio recordings), it is almost as if tablature
notation was, in some sense, a technological response to a desire to reproduce performance.
Perhaps one may draw an analogy with the later phenomenon of automatons, or to Giambattista
Aleotti's attempts to construct mechanical organs.
109
Of course, intabulations are quite literally
res facta – and, books of intabulations, material objects – and perhaps we could think of them as

106
For example, a cautionary single rest will be supplied that generally indicates a removal of a finger, but doesn’t
do so early enough to be truly prescriptive. Instances such as these have to be understood as limitations of print
technology, as Clericetti noted. For more, see Clericetti, “Critici,” and Chapter 3, 74-76 of the present dissertation.
107
Thanks to Adam Knight Gilbert for suggesting this analogy. If we extend this concept, IKT perhaps can be
viewed as “iconic” representation of idealized performance – not one needing to be physically realized at all – but
specifically referring the viewer towards the physical actions of the keyboardist. This forms the basis for the theory
of self-fashioning that forms the basis of Chapter 3.
108
H. M . Brown, Embellishing Sixteenth Century Music (London: Oxford University Press, 1976),
xiii.
109
See Kimberly M. Parke, "Engineering Music: A Critical Inquiry into Giambattista Aleotti's 'De la musica'
(1593)” (PhD diss., University of California, Berkeley, 2006), for more on Aleotti’s mechanical organ.
145
slates upon which a performance is "frozen"; the process of freezing, however, includes the
possibility of careful crafting. There is a fundamental duality to intabulations in this sense: on
one hand, they are carefully crafted material objects; on another level, they are frozen
performances, or at least closer to the source than other forms of notation. Their nature is
informed by this fundamental tension.
In this sense, IKT, like lute tablature, can be seen as a form of mimesis. Lute intavolatura
does not only graphically depict the instrument (its core conceptual basis is that it is, in essence,
a picture of the instrument) it also contains embedded within it a set of coded instructions to the
player.
110
Without having to be able to read mensural notation or understand music theory at all,
the player can simply follow the signs and execute the music. Extended the analogy between the
two tablature systems, it follows that IKT has embedded within it the same sort of instructions as
well. Conceivably, a player of IKT would not really need to understand a great deal of music
theory to play from it, but would only have to learn which notes on the staff represent the
equivalent keys on the keyboard, and the durations signaled by the mensural note signs – the
tendency of publishers to try to vertically align notes absolves the player of having to count too
much. Here, IKT is mimetic in the sense that it represents the actions of the player, represented
by the instructions embedded within the tablature.
While I would argue that IKT indeed sought to mimic lute notation in its basic concepts
and orientation, the mensural notation it uses does allow composers and publishers the possibility
to circumvent the standard conventions of IKT, to provide polyphonic detail that a notation
system such as Italian lute intavolatura can’t provide.
111
For example, added rests and ties can

110
Polk and Coelho write, “Although regional variants of tablature proliferated throughout the period, namely
Italian, French, German, Spanish, and Neapolitan, the principle remained the same: unlike staff notation, which
represents actual pitches on a staff line, tablature is essentially a ‘picture’ of the lute neck that shows player vsually
where to place their fingers on the frets of the instrument.” Polk and Coelho, Instrumentalists, 210.

146
clarify voice leading, and a stem here or there can be pointed in the “wrong” direction (by the
rules of IKT) to clarify voice leading. In the intabulations surveyed in this dissertation, those of
Gabrieli and Gardano demonstrate a much greater tendency to do this.
112
On the other hand,
Bertoldo and Vincenti show less care for voice leading. These tendencies and their ramifications
are fully explored in Chapter 3 of the present dissertation, in which I demonstrate the extent to
which some intabulators favored the voice leading of their models, and others the creation of an
idiomatic keyboard texture.

Conclusion
I would like to note one other factor that creates a parallel between lute tablature and IKT: both
are grounded in a musical reality that is essentially “vertical,” or harmonic, in its conception.
That IKT has a vertical conception has been pointed out by Silbiger, who point to the apparent
great lengths that IKT went to to highlight vertical allignment, arguing that Italian scribes and
printers prioritized this more than their, say, French or English counterparts.
113
IKT’s essential
verticality is a point that has been raised at several points in the present study, and it will occupy
the focus of the next chapter, which will trace this vertical element in keyboard music from the
first half of the sixteenth century, arguing that it provides a strong piece of evidence for the
development of IKT’s conventions.

111
It is interesting to note attempts by Vincenzo Galilei and other later sixteenth-century lute composers to bend the
notation to allow greater polyphonic detail. Dinko Fabris points out the important role of counterpoint in Galilei’s
treatise (Galilei has an extensive section on the rules of counterpoint); it is really an elevation of intabulation to a
“learned” status. See Dinko Fabris, “Lute Tablature Instructions in Italy: A Survey of the Regole from 1507 to
1759,” in Musical Theory in the Renaissance, A Library of Essays on Renaissance Music (Burlington, VT: Ashgate,
2013), 451-82.
112
This phenomenon will be explored fully in Chapter 3.
113
Silbiger, “Tablature?,” 97.
147
Chapter 2
Sonare a Consonanze: IKT and Improvisation in the Ricercar before 1550

Scholars have generally identified two types of keyboard ricercar in the sixteenth century: a
preludial type largely based on chords and passagework, and an imitative type largely based on
the pervasive imitation of the Netherlandish motet.
1
Many have noted an improvised quality to
the former, and a composed quality to the latter.
2
In addition, the preludial type often
demonstrates what might be called a chordal style: the prominent use of chordal structures and a
general tendency towards homophony. This can be seen clearly in Example 2.1, the opening of
Marco Antonio Cavazzoni’s sole ricercar in the Castell’Arquato manuscripts. Chordal passages

1
My use of scare quotes highlights the imprecise nature of these terms, as many of the preludial ricercars show
various degrees of imitative counterpoint; elements of the earlier ricercar type persist in many of the later imitative
ricercars (see, for example, the four ricercars in Girolamo Cavazzoni's Intavolatura cioe. Recercari Canzoni
Himni..Libro Primo (Venice: B.V. 1543). Facsimile copy supplied by the Museo Internazionale e Biblioteca della
Musica di Bologna. There seems to be no universally understood terminology for the two types of ricercar; in his
New Grove article, John Caldwell identifies the first type as the “preludial or rhapsodic ricercar,” although he later
refers to it as the “non-imitative ricercar”; in his chapter for Keyboard Music before 1700, Robert Judd refers to the
first type as the “early ricercar”; Warren Kirkendale refers to “free” and “imitative” ricercars. The consistent
defining criterium seems to be the presence or absence of pervasive imitation. For this chapter, I will adopt the terms
“preludial” and “imitative.” While there is some evidence that the preludial ricercar had an actual preludial function
(in preceding intabulations of vocal works, seen in some early lute prints and in M. A. Cavazzoni's 1523 Recerchari
Motetti Canzoni... Libro Primo (Venice: Vercelen, 1523), there are many sources that don’t seem to imply this
function; rather than functional considerations, I adopt the term “preludial” based on stylistic ones. John Caldwell.
"Ricercare." Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, accessed September 13, 2014,
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.libproxy.usc.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/23373.; Robert Judd, “Italy,” in
Keyboard Music before 1700 2nd edition, ed. Alexander Silbiger (London: Routledge, 2002), 252; Warren
Kirkendale, “Ciceronians versus Aristotelians on the Ricercar as Exordium, from Bembo to Bach,” Journal of the
American Musicological Society 32 (1979): 2. Thanks to Liuwe Tamminga for supplying the facsimile copy of
Marco Antonio Cavazzoni's Recerchari.
2
While scholars have debated whether these differences mean that the imitative ricercar should be viewed as a new
genre that maintained the title “ricercar,” or as a shifting of compositional priorities within a continuous genre, it
seems clear that two important mid-century prints, the Musica Nova accommodata per cantar et sonar sopra organi
et altri strumenti / composta per diversi eccellentissimi musici (Venice: Pozzo, 1540) and Girolamo Cavazzoni’s
Intavolatura (1543) introduce a ricercar type that had, to a large degree, adopted the contrapuntal language of the
sixteenth-century vocal motet. The well-known 1540 Musica Nova, published by Pozzo, is a set of part-book
ricercars by various composers, including Adrian Willaert. For a modern edition, see Musica Nova: Ricercari, ed.
Liuwe Tamminga, Tasture 3 (Colledara: Andromeda Editrice, 2001). However, the composer whose works are
featured most prominently is Giulio Segni, organist at San Marco from 1530 to 1533. Unlike the Musica Nova
ricercars, which were published in part-books, Cavazzoni’s volume is in Italian keyboard intavolatura. Despite the
fact that these “new” ricercars are based on points of imitation – comparable to the vocal motet – they still contain
elements of the older, “preludial” style.
148
like this are common in keyboard music from the first half of the cinquecento, and the purpose of
this chapter is to suggest that IKT’s notational conventions are closely tied – perhaps even rooted
in – this chordal style. As demonstrated in the previous chapter, both IKT’s notational
conventions and the intabulation process demonstrate the same general tendencies: (1)
complicated polyphonic structures are reduced to simpler, homophonic ones; (2) the rhythmic
independence of the model’s voices coalesces around regular chordal motion; and, (3) the
sounding (or seguente) bass and treble notes are consistently favored over independent inner
parts. These tendencies are all observed in Italian keyboard music from the first half of the
sixteenth century, and the central thesis of this chapter is that this relationship between musical
149
style and notational conventions is more than casual; rather, IKT’s notational conventions grew
directly out of cinquecento keyboard playing, and out of the chordal style in particular.
Where I argued in Chapter 1 that these stylistic features had ties with IKT’s notational
conventions, here I examine the relationship between these features (and ultimately, IKT’s
notational conventions) and the unwritten traditions of cinquecento keyboard playing.
Specifically, I point to the stylistic overlap between “abstract” keyboard genres, such as the
preludial ricercar, and liturgical keyboard music,
3
arguing that the chordal style can be directly
tied to organ performance in the liturgy, and possibly to a method of harmonizing chant in the
creation of alternatim versets. In building this argument, I offer a hypothetical reconstruction of
a method for harmonizing short melodic fragments, which I call the technique of sonare a
consonanze. My contention is that the chordal style in early cinquecento keyboard music was
directly linked to this hypothesized technique, which in turn can be tied to a larger tradition of
improvised Renaissance counterpoint. While the attempt to, in a sense, reconstruct this
undocumented (and therefore, theoretically conceived) technique may seem an entirely
speculative exercise, my purpose in doing so is to address gaps in several areas: (a) to propose a
prominent compositional technique in an area of music history for which such techniques are
essentially undocumented; (b) to both describe and explain the prominence of the chordal style in
early cinquecento keyboard music; and (c) to solidify and sharpen the connection between the
chordal style and IKT’s notational conventions.
Lastly, although I do not attempt to propose a complete history of IKT as a notation in
this chapter, I do, in a way, investigate the origins of IKT’s notational conventions, in that I
argue that they are ultimately a product of keyboard playing. In the last part of the chapter I

3
Many pieces in the latter category exist in the same sources as the former, often side by side.
150
attempt to sketch out the development of IKT’s notational conventions, demonstrating the close
and often complicated relationship between notational convention and the (for the most part
unwritten) traditions of keyboard playing. Taken in tandem with IKT’s functioning in
intabulations (examined in the previous chapter), an aspect of IKT’s history can be gleamed,
although in no way a complete one. While my investigation here begins with unwritten
traditions, I will close the chapter by highlighting the utility of examining these traditions as a
means to analyze the development of IKT’s conventions – its “behavior” as a notation.

The Technique of Sonare a Consonanze: A Basic Description
The core of the argument presented in this chapter is the technique of sonare a consonanze – I
contend that it formed the central component of the chord-driven style of early cinquecento
keyboard music, and, in turn, IKT’s emphasis on the vertical in its musical conception. It is
important to stress that sonare a consonanze is not described in any historical source; its
existence is inferred from a careful contextual reading of improvised counterpoint sources and an
examination of repertoire. The term itself was chosen as a direct parallel to the Spanish theorist
Santa María’s method of playing in chords that he calls "playing in consonances" (tañer a
consonancias), described fully in his 1565 treatise Arte de Tañer Fantasia (The Art of Playing
the Fantasia), and I propose that the inferred Italian technique was, in many ways, analogous to
the documented Spanish one (specific differences between the two will be described shortly).
4

4
Tomás de Santa María, Libro llamado arte de tañer fantasia (Valladolid: Fransicso Fernandez de Córdova, 1565),
vol 2, 12. Accessible on imslp.org:
http://imslp.org/wiki/Arte_de_Ta%C3%B1er_Fantasia_(Santamar%C3%ADa,_Tom%C3%A1s), accessed May 25,
2017. For an English translation, see Tomás de Santa María, The Art of Playing the Fantasia (Libro Llamado El
Arte de Tañer Fantasia [Valladolid, 1565], translated and edited by Almonte C. Howell, Jr. and Warren E. Hultberg
(Pittsburg: Latine American Literary Review Press, 1991).
As Miguel Roig-Francoli notes, the term is used in other Spanish vihuela sources, suggesting that it -- or
some variant of it -- was common among Spanish players. Miguel Roig-Francoli, “Compositional Theory and

151
As a plausibly reconstructed historical method of improvising keyboard music, sonare a
consonanze should also be seen as fully rooted in a larger tradition of Renaissance improvised
counterpoint, and connections between between the two will be drawn in course.
At its core, sonare a consonanze entails the triadic harmonization of canti fermi or
shorter figurato fragments (such as a motive or subject from a ricercar) in the treble part of a
keyboard texture. These melodic fragments are accompanied by a bass, and together they form a
skeletal framework that is then filled in with chords. These chords are typically subject to various
sorts of diminution figures and passagework.
It is important to stress that sonare a consonanze should be understood as being
primarily rooted in the practical experience of playing, rather than in theory or in abstract rules
of written counterpoint; that is, in what Rebecca Cypess calls (after Vincenzo Galilei)
dispositione di mano, or as a product of what other modern scholars refer to as Griff, or hand
position – both terms imply what Leon Chisholm recently describes as the “sensorimotor
experience”: the memorized physical motions involved with playing, and on a deeper level, a
musical conception shaped by the act of using a pair of hands to make music on a keyboard.
5
It
was a technique that could be applied with relative ease, as at its root it entailed the creation of a
series of chords through a simple process executed on the keyboard. At the same time, through
the application of ornamentation, it could also be used to generate seemingly complicated
polyphonic textures.

Practice in Mid-Sixteenth-Century Spanish Instrumental Music: The ‘Arte de tañer fantasia” by Tomás de Santa
María and the Music of Antonio de Cabezón” (PhD. diss., Indiana University, 1990), 207.
5
Dispositione di mano – a phrased invented by Vincenzo Galilei – is used by Rebecca Cypess to imply performance
practice – specifically virtuosic performance – but also “the physical memory… involved in the use of instruments.”
Cypess adopts the term based on the concept of habitus as defined by Jean-Phillipe Gauvin. See Rebecca Cypess,
Curious and Modern Inventions: Instrumental Music as Discovery in Galileo’s Italy (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 2016): 22-23. The word Griff implies the generation of chords from hand position; for more on this,
see Menke, “‘Ex Centro’ Improvisation,” 70; see also David Ledbetter, Bach’s "Well-Tempered Clavier": The 48
Preludes and Fugues (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2002), 105.
152
Methodology and Musical Sources
The basic analytical approach adopted here is, on the surface, relatively straightforward. The
proposed functioning of sonare a consonanze is established by two main points of comparison:
with Santa María’s above-mentioned method of tañer a consonancias, and with improvised
counterpoint techniques documented in sixteenth-century sources. With regard to the latter area,
I build upon the work of Peter Schubert, Phillipe Canguilhem, and others, who have established
not only the important role of improvised counterpoint in sixteenth-century music-making
overall, but have also highlighted specific methods used to do so. Extant Italian keyboard music
before 1550 (see Table 2.1) – the area of the repertoire most reliant on the chordal style – is
examined for musical evidence, with a particular emphasis on the harmonization of melodic
fragments or canti fermi. The mid-century cut-off date reflects two publications that heralded the
advent of the imitative ricercar, which quickly supplanted the preludial ricercar in Italian
keyboard sources: the volume Musica Nova (1540), and the later intavolature of Girolamo
Cavazzoni (1543). Together, Girolamo Cavazzoni’s two publications of keyboard music are also
a major source for liturgical keyboard settings, and the chosen cut-off date was selected to

153
Table 2.1: Sources of Liturgical Settings and Preludial Ricercars Before 1550

Manuscripts:
Printed Volumes:

Manuscript Ricercars Liturgical Settings
I-CARcc Ms. 7832, fascicle I. ("Castell
Arquato") (Ca)
Six ricercars (two attrib. Jacopo
Fogliano, two attrib. "Jaches," one
attrib. Giulio Segni, one attrib. M. A.
Cavazzoni).

I-CARcc Ms. 7832, fascicle II. ("Castell
Arquato") (Ca)
Two ricercars (attrib. Jacopo Fogliano) Missa de la dominica ("Jaches"),
I-CARcc Ms. 7832, fascicle IVa.
("Castell Arquato") (Ca)
Ricercar (anon.) Missa dell'Apostoli; Credo verset
(all anon.)
I-CARcc Ms. 7832, fascicle V. ("Castell
Arquato") (Ca)
Ten ricercars (eight attrib. Claudio
Veggio; one fragmentary).

I-CARcc Ms. 7832, fascicle VIII.
("Castell Arquato") (Ca)

Mass In Solemnitatibus Beate
Marie; Agnust Dei
I-CARcc Ms. 7832, fascicle IX.
("Castell Arquato") (Ca)

Patrem verset
D-Mbs Munich, Bayerische
Staatsbibliothek, Musikabteilung, Mus
Ms. 9437 (Go)
Ricercars (all anon.) Liturgical versets based on
plainchant melodies (all anon.)
I-Vnm: Ms. It. IV 1227 (Ve)

Veni creator spiritus; Et exultavit
spiritus meus

Printed Volume Ricercars Liturgical Settings
Marco Antonio Cavazzoni, Recerchari,
motetti, canzoni…libro primo. Venice:
Bernardinum Vercelensem, 1523.
Two ricercars.

Girolamo Cavazzoni, Intavolatura cioe.
Recercari Canzoni Himni..Libro Primo.
Venice: B.V. 1543.
Four (imitative) ricercars. Hymn versets.
Girolamo Cavazzoni, Intabulatura
d'organo, cioè Misse Himni Magnificat.
Libro secondo. [...], 1543?

Three alternatim Masses; hymn
versets; Magnificat setting.

154
include them. Roughly half of the sources are printed volumes, and the other half manuscripts;
especially notable is the large Castell’Arquato collection.
6

In arguing for a different organ-based performance tradition, one also missing complete
documentary evidence, Arnaldo Morelli cites a well-known remark made by Nino Pirrota: “La
storia della musica è in gran parte da scrivere o da riscrivere. Il perché si comprende facilmente
se si pensa che in moltissimi casi essa deve cominciare col ricostruire il suo oggetto.”
7
Similarly,
the present study addresses a hypothetically conceived, reconstructed “object” (or compositional-
performance tradition). This approach potentially brings with it inherent logical and historical
problems. In an attempt to address these, I will adopt the analytical stance represented by
keyboard thinking, as established in the Introduction of this dissertation. A keyboard-thinking
approach attempts to circumvent these problems by considering facets such as musical style and
notation to be not only interrelated but interdependent; it also deliberately encompasses both the
attempt to approach the mindset of cinquecento keyboard improvisers as well as the analytical
stance adopted towards musical texts that form the evidence of that mindset.

6
For more on the Castell’Arquato colletion, see two articles by H. Colin Slim: “Keyboard Music at Castell’Arquato
by an Early Madrigalist,” Journal of the American Musicological Society 15 (1962): 35–47; and “Some Puzzling
Intabulations of Vocal Music for Keyboard, c. 1600, at Castell’Arquato,” in Five Centuries of Choral Music: Essays
in Honor of Howard Swan, Gordon Paine, ed. (Stuyvesant, NY: Pendragon, 1989): 127–51. The Castell'Arquato
manuscripts are also discussed in Jessie Ann Owens, Composers at Work: The Craft of Musical Composition 1450-
1600 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997), 168. Also see Knud Jeppesen, “Eine Frühe Orgelmesse aus
Castell’Arquato” Archiv für Musikwissenschaft 12 (1955): 187-205.
For a modern edition of the keyboard music in Castell Arquato, see H. Colin Slim, ed. Keyboard Music at
Castell’Arquato, in 3 vols, CEKM 37 (Middleton, WI: American Institute of Musicology, 1975–2005).
7
Quoted in Arnaldo Morelli, “"Cantare sull'organo": an unrecognized practice,” Recercare 10 (1998): 205. Morelli
argues for the existence of a practice of solo singing with organ accompaniment in sixteenth-century Italian
liturgical contexts.
155
Keyboard Thinking and Sonare a Consonanze
The analytical construct of keyboard thinking allows the analyst to bypass the logical and
historical problems inherent with examining written-down music for evidence of unwritten
traditions. Many of these problems (and potential solutions) have already been described in the
Introduction; however, they are most prominent in this chapter, in that its central thesis is
grounded in the examination of textual evidence for reflections of improvised practice. This
potentially carries the logical fallacy of circular reasoning, in that the text itself establishes the
necessary stylistic (and, by extension, analytical) criteria by which the hypothesized method is
partly established, but accepting that the criteria are present in the text at all depends upon the
method itself. Keyboard thinking offers a way to circumvent this problem, at least in part, by
attempting to adopt elements of a historical mindset itself as its basic analytical stance. In
sixteenth-century Italy, composition and improvisation are seen as points on a single continuum
of musical creation – best represented in the phrase “composing at the keyboard.” Therefore,
from a sixteenth-century perspective, written texts are not distinct from improvised practices.
Therefore, the analyst who adopts the stance of keyboard thinking need not consider the
distinction between written text and unwritten tradition as particularly relevant.
The adoption of a historical mindset is also key to a project of reconstruction, which is
the primary aim of this chapter. Keyboard thinking should be seen as an attempt to discern the
“archaeology” of cinquecento keyboardist thought, an attempt to recreate and retrace historic
thought patterns and conceptual structures, which can then be used as a framework for the
reconstruction of lost traditions (that is, traditions that are undocumented by extant source
material). By plausibly establishing both the underlying thought patterns as well as the precise
steps taken by, say, a historical keyboardist improvising a ricercar, one can attempt to reconstruct
156
techniques that could have existed, through the careful analysis of both extant techniques of
musical construction as well as musical texts. It is exactly this category into which sonare a
consonanze falls.
Precise techniques used to improvise vocal counterpoint can be seen regularly in the
music analyzed in this chapter, establishing it – and more precisely, the technique of sonare a
consonanze – within a larger context of sixteenth-century composing in the mind at the
keyboard. Therefore, while the technique of sonare a consonanze should be seen as a keyboard-
specific practice, it should also be seen as conceptually grounded in a more general realm of
improvised counterpoint, one that extended between vocal and instrumental practices.
8
Keyboard
thinking also draws upon these Renaissance counterpoint traditions, in that it seeks to reconstruct
the systems of thought that underlaid the specific practices and methodologies of improvisational
traditions, such as those used by cinquecento keyboard players. By examining commonalities in
functioning between diverse rules and practices, it becomes plausible to reconstruct lost ones (or
even to recreate new ones in the same tradition) – to recreate, in other words, the rules that were
orally transmitted and, therefore, didn’t make their way into surviving theoretical or practical
texts.

Sonare a Consonanze in its Historical Context: Horizontal and Regressive Approaches
Before moving into the analysis itself, we should note that the technique of sonare a consonanze
– and indeed, the chordal style in cinquecento keyboard music generally – invites clear
comparisons with later practices, most notably basso continuo. Beyond the shared use of chords

8
As just described, sonare a consonanze is essentially the chordal “filling-in” of a treble-bass framework, and this
framework can be seen as a bicinium in note-against-note style. The links between sonare a consonanze and bicinia
are explored below.
157
as a structural foundation, sonare a consonanze itself represents a foreshadowing of basso
continuo, particularly the role that the latter played in solo keyboard improvisation. Looking at
this study historiographically, one could describe two complementary approaches. The primary
approach involves situating the repertory and the reconstructed techniques within the context of
vocal improvised counterpoint – that is, with practices from other areas that are historically
contemporary with it; we might characterize this as a “horizontal” approach. In contrast, we
might call a comparison with later practices a “regressive one,” as described by Domenico
Pietropaolo. A regressive approach would start with analysis of similar musical traditions that
followed the repertory in question, and its generative processes, and then work backwards.
According to Pietropaolo, this would
force us to unite theory and history, since its practice would require use to
develop distinct theoretical models for each stage of development of the idea of
improvisation, each new model representing a revision of the one that is closer to
us in history, and simultaneously to explain the changes that we are compelled to
make in response to the historical parameters that define each earlier period.
9

While I will primarily place sonare a consonanze within the context of sixteenth-century
improvised counterpoint – again drawing primarily on the "horizontal" approach – I periodically
refer to the “regressive” as well, particularly in highlighting ways in which the techniques here
seem to foreshadow partimento.
10

It is important to note that chords themselves – that is, the bare conception of chords as
intact units, devoid of any functional context – were arguably not a musical-theoretical concept
that existed in concrete fashion in the sixteenth century. It is notable that Santa María uses the

9
Domenico Pietropaolo, “Improvisation in the Arts,” in Improvisation in the Arts of the Middle Ages and
Renaissance, ed. Timothy G. McGee (Kalamazoo, MI, USA: Medieval Institute Publications, Western Michigan
University), 4.
10
As I demonstrate below, sonare a consonanze clearly foreshadow basso continuo.
158
same word to describe intervals and chords alike, consonancias; what we today call “chords”
were simply a joining of several consonances together. This is echoed in Italian sources as well:
for example, Banchieri, in his brief dialogue on basso continuo in the “Quinto Registro,” in the
second edition of L’organo suonarino (1611), uses the same terminology – consonanze – when
describing the formation of what we would call chords formed over a bass note (although he
does occasionally use the word "corda" as well)
11
. A concrete concept of a “chord” – and indeed,
the consistent use of the term – is lacking in early Italian continuo treatises such as those by
Viadana and Agazzari.
12
Without a musical-theoretical construct of a chord, it is best to view the
chords seen in this repertoire as being conceived as physical-mechanical phenomena – products
of the dispositione di mano of the player rather than grounded in theory.
The problem of tonality has been raised in criticism of Murray Bradshaw’s well-known
theory that psalm tones were the basis of the Venetian organ toccata.
13
Bradshaw uses Roman
numeral analytical symbols, which is problematic because of its implicit “tonalizing” of non-
tonal music. That being the case, there is a basic similarity between the nature of my theory and
Bradshaw’s – both posit the use of plainchant as a core element of the compositional process in
cinquecento keyboard music. However, there are some important differences to note. For one,
Bradshaw examines repertory later in the cinquecento, and his criteria for identifying his

11
See Banchieri, L'organo suonarino, 2nd ed., 6.
12
Agazzari does use the word "corda," but in the sense of "string," both literally (in the sense of string instruments)
and in the sense of a starting pitch when discussing the transposition of modes. See Agostino Agazzari, Del sonare
sopra'l basso con tutti li stromenti e dell'uso loro nel conserto (Siena: Domenicao Falconi, 1607), accessible online:
http://imslp.org/wiki/Del_Sonare_sopra'l_basso_con_tutti_li_stromenti_(Agazzari%2C_Agostino). Viadana does
not use the term. His continuo treatise is found as the preface of his famous print, Lodovico Viadana, Li cento
concerti eccelesiastici (Venice: Vincenti, 1602), 1605 edition available online:
http://imslp.org/wiki/Per_sonar_nel'organo_li_cento_concerti_ecclesiastici_(Viadana%2C_Lodovico_da). Both
accessed on June 14, 2017.
13
Bernhard Meier, “Die Modi der Toccaten Claudio Merulos,” Archiv für Musikwissenschaft 34 (1997): 196. See
Alexander Silbiger, “From Madrigal to Toccata: Frescobaldi and the Seconda Prattica,” in Critica Musica: Essays
in Honor of Paul Brainard, ed. John Knowles (Amsterdam: Gordon and Breach Publishers, 1996), 404, for a further
list of sources that criticize Bradshaw’s theory.
159
“hidden” psalm tones are very loosely applied; in addition, he argues for their use in a particular
abstract genre, the toccata, not in a liturgical one. In contrast, I only hypothesize the use of
plainchant for music in which it is explicitly designated; my proposed extension of the technique
to abstract keyboard music is only in the technique, not in the type of melody it is used to
harmonize. While I do argue that the origins of sonare a consonanze may have originated in the
harmonization of plainchant, the technique itself could be applied just as easily to the subject of a
ricercar or another type of melody.

Chordal Structures in Early Cinquecento Keyboard Music
I would like to begin the musical analyses of this chapter with a look at the chordal style in the
preludial ricercar, examples of which are common. Sections in the chordal style take on multiple
forms, including instances of toccata-like textures like that seen in the Cavazzoni ricercar above,
quasi-contrapuntal sections that suggest an underlying chordal framework, and short, distinct
sections of undecorated or nearly undecorated chords – I will refer to instances in this latter
category as chord chains.
14
Typically consisting of a pronounced series of entirely undecorated
block chords, sections of chord chains make for a fairly striking addition to the overall textural
language of the preludial ricercar. They are also where I propose to begin the exploration of the
chordal style overall, for several reasons:

1) Identifying situations with underlying chord chains in decorated textures is problematic:
this is primarily due to the nature of the applied decoration, which can range from a few
passing notes to toccata-like flurries of activity, to seemingly complex contrapuntal

14
As demonstrated in the Introduction, chain thinking seems to be a major part of cinquecento keyboard
improvisation. See Introduction, 55-56.
160
structures in which multiple voices are decorated in imitation. The ornamentation can
create grey areas; drawing sharp distinctions between passages that are unambiguously
chord-driven and those in which homophonic textures are generated as a by-product of
polyphony is essentially impossible. This leaves the identification and subsequent
analysis of the chord chains a frustratingly subjective process.
2) The sheer frequency of entirely undecorated or near entirely undecorated chord chains
highlights their important role in cinquecento keyboard music.
3) The undecorated versions of the chord chains offer an unfiltered glimpse of the technique
of sonare a consonanze.
4) Comparing decorated and lightly decorated versions show how the chord chains might
have functioned as the foundation of seemingly complicated polyphonic textures.
5) Isolating and highlighting undecorated chord chains allows them to emerge from the
obscuration of IKT notational convention, which, through its functioning, creates "fake"
voice leading (see Chapter 1), implying polyphony that could actually have been
generated by playing in consonanze.

In order to isolate undecorated chord chains I have adopted a rigid set of criteria:
chordal passages should be in four or more voices, in a completely homophonic texture (with
only one passing note per chord pair), and they must consist of at least three chords to count as a
chain (although many examples last as long as six to eight chords). Table 2.2 demonstrates every
chord chain that meets the criteria.

161
Table 2.2: Instances of Chord Chains in Keyboard Sources Before 1550
15

Work Source Section (if
applicable)
Measures Comments
Missa de la dominica Ca, fascicle
2.
Glorificamus te 33-34

Domine deus 69-70

Et in spiritum sanctum
dominum
104

Missa dell'Apostoli Ca, fascicle
4a.
Kyrie P[rimo] 3-4

8-10

15-17 partly in a3 texture
(measure 16)

25-27

30-31

39

42

Primo verso della
Gloria
1

4

9-11

12

19-21

23-24

31-32

35-36

45-46

55-56

57-58 one passing note

59-62 partly in a3 texture

15
The comment "cadential" refers to chord chains that are cadential in nature; they may include stereotypical
cadential voice behavior and suspensions, resulting in chords that are not strictly 5/3 or 6/3 chords. Chord chains
that included a few passing notes are noted as such in the comments.
162

70-72 cadential

77-79

82-83 passing note; partly in
a3 texture

91-93 one passing note

96-98

unidentified fragment (setting of Christe from
B.V. Mass)
Ca, fascicle
4a.

6-10 light decoration
Primo versetto del credo Ca, fascicle
4a.

4-5

7 passing note

9-10 passing note

15-16 one short run

17-18

22-23 cadential

24-25

31-32 passing note

36-37 passing note
Missa in Solemnitatibus Beate Marie Ca, fascicle
8.
Glorificamus te 23

Domine deus Rex
caelestis
41-42 passing note
Patrem Ca, fascicle
9.

5-6

14-16 passing notes

19-20 cadential

Et ex patre
21

23-24 cadential

25-26

Genitum non factum 27-29

29-31

Crucifixus 37-39

39-41

163

42-43

44-46

Et ascendit 47-48 passing notes

50-52 passing note

Et in spiritum 57-59 one 6/3 chord

61-63

63-64 variable (a3-a5)
texture

Et unam 66-68 passing notes

70-71 partly a3 texture

76-77

Chirie primo de li apostoli Go

2-5 passing notes;
cadential

6-7 passing notes

7-8

Intonazione del settimo tono Go

20-21

R[i]cerchare di Jaches Ca, fascicle
1.

6-7 cadential; some
dissonances

21-23 partly a3 texture

32-33 passing notes

46-47 cadential; passing note

48-50 passing notes

64-65 cadential; suspensions

65-72 cadential; suspensions

73 passing note; 6/3
chords

89-90 partly a3 texture

93-94 cadential

96-97 cadential

99-104 cadential

104-106

108-109 partly a3 texture;
passing notes
164

111-113 passing notes

116-118 partly a3 texture

122-123 cadential; passing
notes
R[i]cercare di Jacobo fogliano da modena Ca, fascicle
1.

14-16

36-40 partly a3 texture;
cadential

40-42 suspensions; passing
notes

43-50

52-53 two 6/3 chords
Ricercare Ca, fascicle
4a.

1-4 passing notes

17-18

45-46 passing notes; partly
a3 texture

47-49 passing notes
R[i]cercada de ma ca in bologna (fascicle 1;
5v)
Ca, fascicle
1.

3-4 passing notes

4-5 passing notes

9-10 passing notes

26-27

35-36

37-38 passing note

53 passing note
Ricercar Primo (Cavazzoni 1523) CAVAZZON
I M 1523

1-2

Ricercar Secondo (Cavazzoni 1523) CAVAZZON
I M 1523

1-3

5-8 cadential

59-60 cadential

72-73

84-85

98-99

165

101-102

R[i]cerchare di Jacobo Fogliano Ca, fascicle
2.

5-6

16-17

18-19

27

35

R[i]cerchare di Jacobo fogliano da modena Ca, fascicle
2.

22-25 cadential; passing
notes

29-30

R[i]cercare di Julio da modena p[er] musica
fi(c)ta in sol p(er) la via di G sol re ut
Ca, fascicle
1.

1-4 passing notes

6-8 passing notes

11

13-15

50-51 passing notes

61-63 passing notes

65 passing note

67

72

74-75 passing notes
La Fugitiva (Veggio). Ca, fascicle
5.

5 passing notes;
cadential

6-8

15-17

26-27

29-30

32-34 cadential

37-41

Recercar de l'otavo tono Ca, fascicle
5.

19-20

untitled fragment (anon) Ca, fascicle
5.

2-3

166

5-7 one 6/4 chord

23-26 cadential

31-33 cadential

48-50

Recercada per b quadro del primo tono
(Veggio)
Ca, fascicle
5.

25-28

28-32 cadential

38-39

40-41

69-73 cadential; passing
notes

91-93

97

104-106 passing notes;
cadential

107-112

131-137

143 cadential

145 cadential
Recercada per b mollo del primo tono (Veggio) Ca, fascicle
5.

14-15

17-19

20-22 passing notes;
cadential

22

32-34 passing notes

48-50 passing notes;
cadential

61-63

68-69

82-85 partly a3 texture;
passing notes

88-90

93-95

167

96 passing notes;
cadential

103-105 passing notes;
cadential
Recercada vil (Veggio) Ca, fascicle
5.

5-7 passing notes

9-11 passing notes;
cadential

11-12

13-14

15-16

19 cadential

21-23 passing notes

23-25

29-31 passing notes;
cadential

32-34 one passing note

34-36

39-41 passing notes

45

46

Vi ricercada' (anon) Ca, fascicle
5.

6-8 passing notes

8-10 cadential

14

15-16

17-19

21-22

23-24

25-26

30-32

36-37

40-41 passing notes
168
Recercada tel primo tono per b mollo (Veggio) Ca, fascicle
5.

14-15

25-27 passing notes

31-32

42-44

Recercar del primo tono (Veggio) Ca, fascicle
5.

1-4

6-9 passing notes

11-15 passing notes

18-19 cadential

20-22 passing notes;
cadential

27-28

30-32 suspensions

39-40

41-42

43-44

45-46 passing note; cadential
Recercada per b quadro dal quarto tono
(Veggio)
Ca, fascicle
5.

7-8 cadential

20-23

26-27

38-39 cadential

40

Recercar del quinto tono per b mollo (Veggio) Ca, fascicle
5.

22-23 cadential; passing
notes

23-24

25-26 cadential

31-32

35-36

37-38 passing notes

38-39 passing note (note
parallels)
169

41-43 cadential; passing
notes

44-45

59-60

60-62 passing notes;
cadential

68-80

Untitled (ricercar?) Go

12

13-14 cadential

38-40 passing note

39-40 cadential

48-49

54-55

63-64

Untitled Go

7

8-10

10-15 passing notes

19-21 passing notes

24-26

Recercar Go

14-15 cadential; passing note

15-21

28 passing notes

29-30 cadential; passing
notes
Untitled Go

1-2

7-8 passing notes

9-10

12-14 passing notes

15-16 passing note
Untitled Go

9-11 passing notes
Untitled Go

2 passing notes
170

4 cadential

6-7 passing notes;
cadential

9-10 passing notes

15-17 passing notes;
cadential

18-21 passing notes

The table also includes instances that almost qualify, but exceed the criteria in minor fashion;
these are noted as doing so in the comments column. Instances without comment are therefore
entirely undecorated – a total of 122 out of 242 cited chord chains. Example 2.2 shows a few
typical instances, demonstrating some of the situations in which they are seen: Example 2.2a-b
presents opening gestures of ricercars by Segni and Veggio; these consist of chord chains,
similar to those seen in the Cavazzoni ricercar at the start of this chapter, but without the
decoration. In Examples 2.2c-d, broad, toccata-like chord chains form distinct sections within
ricercars; notably, they are used to harmonize short motives or soggetti in the treble part. In
Example 2.2e, the slow, static treble part, presented in semibreves, is harmonized with minim
chords.
The examples demonstrate three general contexts in which undecorated chord chains are
typically found. Especially of note is the use of chord chains to harmonize soggetti in the treble
part, as can be seen in Example2.2c-d; in fact, even the melody of the slow, seemingly toccata-
like opening of the ricercar shown in Example 2.2a turns out to be a principal soggetto of the
ricercar. (The soggetti in the preludial ricercar are used more loosely than they are in the later
imitative ricercar.) In all of the examples, each note of the melodic fragment is harmonized with
a 5/3 chord, or what modern music theory would call a root-position triad, with the occasional
171
172
173
6/3 chord.
16
The harmonization of a soggetto is the most common function that chords hold in
the preludial ricercar; a particularly striking example can be seen in Example 2.3, from Veggio’s
lengthy Recercada per b quadro del primo tono. Again, the soggetto is placed in the treble,
repeated, and once again harmonized with triads predominately in root position.
Block triads and homophonic sections are, of course, not unusual in sixteenth-century
vocal music – one immediately thinks of falsobordone style – but one gets the sense that their
use in this repertoire is particularly rooted in keyboard playing.
17
In Veggio’s Recercada per

16
Without a formally defined sixteenth-century theoretical language to talk about these chords, I will adopt
terminology from later basso continuo practice. Therefore, I will write 5/3 chord in place of root position, and 6/3 in
place of first inversion.
17
The connection between the falsobordone and keyboard music in the sixteenth century had been promoted by
Murray Bradshaw, as mentioned earlier. In spite of the legitimate rejoinders to Bradshaw’s theory (cited above),
there are some interesting connections between the falsobordone and chordal style in late Renaissance keyboard
music; Bradshaw touches upon many of the general connections in his various studies. See especially Chapter 8 of
his monograph The Falsobordone: A Study in Renaissance and Baroque Music (Neuhausen-Stuttgart: Hänssler-
Verlag, 1978), 73-80, as well as the article “The Influence of Vocal Music on the Venetian Toccata,” Musica
Disciplina 42 (1988): 157-98.
In his reading of the Venetian toccata as influenced by psalm tones, Bradshaw points to the decorated
fabordones of Antonio Cabezón. Interestingly enough, Santa María includes in the discussion of his “consonances”
a chapter on the fabordones, suggesting some sort of connection, at least for him. See Santa María, Arte de Tañer,
42v-48.
Having said that, while I would not categorically deny any influence of the falsobordone on the music
examined in this chapter – the link between falsobordoni, the music of Cabezón, and Santa María’s treatise are
certainly intriguing – there does not seem to be enough evidence to posit any sort of direct relationship between the
chord chains seen here and falsobordoni practice; the chord chains don't show any similarities to psalm tones seen in
falsobordoni, save for a homophonic texture. In addition, the chord chains include more 6/3 chords than do
falsobordoni, and in general are freer in their treatment of texture and voice leading, again suggesting idiomatic
keyboard origins.
There are two falsobordoni in the Castell’Arquato manuscripts: Castell'Arquato, Chiesa collegiata,
Archivio. I-CARcc Ms. 7832, fascicle 5; 21v. Except for the chords of the opening intonation and the beginning of
the second half of the verse, they are ironically more contrapuntal than the chord chains examined in this chapter.

174
quadro del primo tono (Example 2.4), another melodic fragment (related to the subject seen in
the previous example) is harmonized and repeated four times in sequence, which the lower parts
again accompanied as 5/3 chords. The obstinate repetition of the harmonized motive in
sequence, coupled with the range and voicing of the chords, creates a distinctly idiomatic feel.

Of course, other genres of sixteenth-century Italian keyboard demonstrate strong homophonic tendencies.
These include dance music (settings of which can be found in both the Castell'Arquato manuscripts and in I-Vnm:
Ms. It. IV 1227 (Ve) – see Table 1 above); intabulations of homophonic vocal music such as frottole, French
chansons, and the works of early madrigalists such as Arcadelt and Verdelot; and arie recitation formulae, to name a
few. Playing arie was apparently a rather common activity for keyboardists; see the second book of keyboard dances
by Marco Facoli, which contains several arie settings, many named after known courtesans. This musical activity
seemed to be associated with the Venetian courtesan. See Berthe Dedoyard, “Des musiques pour arpicordo de
Marco Facoli: à la découverte d’un testament inconnu,” Revue belge de Musicologie 41 (1987): 63-74.
175
There are other features that point to a particularly idiomatic nature to these triadic sections. For
example, several instances can be cited in which chords are presently broadly and ornamented in
toccata-like fashion, as in the Marco Antonio Cavazzoni ricercar mentioned at the beginning of
this chapter. In addition, many of the chord chains demonstrate a variable number of parts, with
the texture even mutable on a chord-to-chord basis; this is of course allowed by IKT as a
notation, unlike in part-book format or even other keyboard tablature systems.
18
Chord spacings
also tend to be idiomatic rather than reflective of vocal polyphony, with part-leading obviously
geared towards creating playable textures.
I would like to propose that these undecorated chord chains provide an unfiltered glimpse
of a fundamental generative process in cinquecento keyboard music, one that, combined with
diminution practice, could be used as the foundation of more complicated music. Although the
process is undocumented and therefore entirely speculative, it is not hard to suggest how it might
have functioned: a melodic fragment was accompanied by a bass, forming a treble-bass
framework, which was then filled with triadic harmonies. Example 2.5 offers treble-bass
frameworks of the excerpts shown in Example 2.2 above.

18
Although German and Spanish keyboard notation allowed for flexibility of texture, they remained conceptually
grounded in the framework of four independent parts.
176

177
It is highly notable that many of chord chains appear alongside instances in which the soggetto is
accompanied with a bass, forming a note-against-note-style bicinium. This can be seen in
Example 2.4 above; after the duo treatment, the subject is subsequently repeated and “fleshed-
out” with chords. Even though the bass lines under the repeated soggetto vary, the a2 initial
treatment suggests that the chords were conceived within the framework of a duo that functions
as a treble-bass skeleton.
The bass lines in Example 2.4 above are also worth noting. The bass line of the last
iteration moves in parallel twelfths with the subject; bass lines moving in parallel thirds, sixths,
or twelfths with the treble are occasionally seen. More common, however, are bass lines that leap
about as trebles are accompanied with chains of 5/3 chords. In fact, this leaping bass is close to
being a defining feature of the chord chains in general. Both leaping and parallel bass-line types
178
can also be seen in Example 2.6 below, for example, which also begins with an a2 texture and
then repeats its subject with chords (also notable here is the unique three-staff notation).
19

Here, the initial duo is in parallel sixths, and the chordal repetition of the subject is supported
with a leaping bass line. The notion that a treble-bass skeleton served as scaffolding for chords is
supported by the persistent lack of a clear structural tenor part. Instead, inner parts are often
crudely written, with awkward leaps, or simply, in parallels with the soprano or bass.
Harmonizations in three-voice fauxbourdon texture are also occasionally seen, and in some
instances the composer builds momentum by placing a soggetto in a duo and then repeating it in
a fauxbourdon version, followed by a version in full triadic harmony (Example 2.7).

19
See yet-to-be-determined page in Chapter 1 for more on this notation.
179
Noteworthy in all of the examples is the crude nature of the inner voice leading. I would again
suggest a link with idiomatic performance at the expense of abstractly conceived counterpoint.
The idiomatic nature of the chord chains is further highlighted by occasional harsh dissonances
that appear as a result of forming a triad over either a bass or treble note while the other parts
clash against it (the chord chains in the follow examples are not counted as “pure” undecorated
examples as tallied above). Examples of these dissonances can be observed in Fogliano’s Lydian
Rcerchada di Jacobo fogliano da modena (Example 2.8).

Here, the left-hand chords seem to have been formed as a kind of triadic “reinforcement” of the
bass, without any consideration of how the reinforcement notes clash with the dissonant part of
the suspension. The same thing can be seen in Cavazzoni’s Recercare Primo from his 1523
printed volume (Examples 2.9).
180
These instances indicate a relationship with keyboard playing, not vocal counterpoint, as
the triadic harmonization of the bass note occurs without consideration of the upper part. The
process seems simple and mechanical; the reinforcement notes fit naturally under the hand,
suggesting that they are generated by playing, not by the rules of counterpoint. This notion is
supported by the fact that the subject is isolated on the top staff; according to the conventions of
IKT, this means that it was meant to played by the right hand, with the chords in the left. This
links it to the dispositione di mano – the muscle memory – of the player. The process can be
applied to treble notes, too, producing a particular effect that is rather unique to early
cinquecento keyboard music (see Example 2.10). In the latter, however, the dissonances are
lessoned somewhat by the simple scalar passaggi in the left hand, creating a texture again
evocative of the later toccata.
181

The analytical process of isolating these undecorated chord chains highlights certain distinct
musical features:

1) chords are primarily root-position triads, with a few 6/3 chords
2) the chords in the chains all principally move at the rhythmic level of the minim
3) chord chains tend to be treble-driven, with trebles typically consisting of either ricercar
subjects or fragments clearly identifiable as melodies; these melodies are typically
conjunct
4) intervals between treble and bass are usually either thirds, fifths, or octaves (and
occasionally sixths)
182
5) the bass typically leaps, suggesting a role as harmonic driver of the triadic harmony
(although somewhat common is motion between the bass and treble in parallel thirds,
sixths, and twelfths)
6) the middle voices typically demonstrate crude counterpoint, with frequent parallels and
awkward leaps; occasionally reinforcement notes supplement the four-voice texture.

One gets the sense that voice leading is driven by hand position over counterpoint. The crude
counterpoint is especially highlighted by contrasting these instances – which as described earlier
are exclusively in four voices or more – with passages of undecorated chord chains in three-voice
homophony. In these latter cases, the inner-voice motion is much more independent.
Within the group of undecorated chord chains I have isolated, a few sub-categories can
be observed. For example, a “classic” type can be seen in the ricercars, identifiable through their
function of harmonizing a subject. This separates them from brief instances of undecorated
chords that occur within passages that are otherwise made up of ornamental textures. The
functional context of harmonizing a subject is key; as I will argue shortly, the technique of
sonare a consonanze may have developed expressly for this purpose.
Also notable as a separate sub-category are cadential passages: these can be identified
through the use of formulaic cadential voice behavior, and stereotypical figuration (such as
syncopations). Cadences in cinquecento keyboard music are usually marked by diminution
patterns and figures – equally stereotypical in nature – and these undecorated instances are
somewhat rare. The fact that cadences and chord chains are similar should cause no surprise –
the links between homophony, cadences, and the emergent tonality of the late sixteenth century
have been long understood, and evidence of these links can be seen in the leaping, cadence-like
183
bass motion typically seen in the chord chains. In a classic piece of scholarship, Edward
Lowinsky points to the link between dance music – particularly the ground-bass patterns of the
late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, such as the Romanesca, the Passamezzo, and the
like – and tonality.
20
In light of this, it is interesting to note that several of the manuscripts
examined in this chapter (including the Castell’Arquato collection and Venice 1227) also include
dance settings that oftentimes appear side by side with settings of liturgical melodies.
21

Santa María’s Playing in Consonancias
The existence of the Italian consonanze – although supported by the musical evidence presented
– is not documented in any extant Italian primary source. However, its existence is supported by
a sixteenth-century musica pratica treatise, albeit one from another national tradition: Tomás de
Santa María’s 1565 Arte de Tañer Fantasia, a large-scale Spanish musica pratica treatise
dedicated to the art of playing in fantasia.
22
Published in two volumes, the treatise is devoted to
teaching the beginning student a complete method for playing in fantasia. The first volume
provides basic musical knowledge essential for the keyboardist – such as information on
intervals, hexachords, modes, time values, and the like – as well as information on technical
aspects of playing such as fingering and (as was considered a technical aspect for sixteenth-
century musicians) the application of glosas, or diminutions. After absorbing this information,

20
See Edward E. Lowinsky, Tonality and Atonality in Sixteenth-Century Music (Berkeley and Los Angeles:
University of California Press, 1961). See especially 3-15; 62-71.
21
Another element pointing to the close relationship between cadences and cinquecento keyboard playing and music
is the tendency for individual ricercar soggetti to be identical to cadential figures.
Lastly, it should be noted that there is distinct "class" of three-voice chord chains; some of these behave in
similar fashion to the “classic” type, although more typical are three-voice passages in fauxbourdon style. As
mentioned earlier, chord chains in three-voices tend to have more independent voice leading.
22
Santa María, Arte de tañer fantasia.

184
the student then moves on to the second book, whose aim is to “teach the art of the fantasy in
practical music, so that it may be achieved with a minimum of time and labor.”
23

The cornerstone of Santa María’s fantasia method is a technique called “playing in
consonances” (tañer a consonancias); he devotes a considerable amount of space to it, and
notably establishes it as a precursor to common technique such as bicinia and “species”-style
counterpoint. He even acknowledges that it may seem odd to some that he begins with four-part
chordal harmonies instead of two-part counterpoint, explaining that their importance to his
technique as a whole justifies the unusual disposition of the treatise:
Assuming then this fundamental principle that we have established for all practical
music, which is that we have only four consonances and three dissonances, we must now
proceed with the observation that the usual way of playing consonance chords is in four
voices and compasses and contains within it two-and three-voiced playing (emphasis
mine). Therefore we shall treat each type separately, that is, consonant chords of four
voices, and those of two and three. And although the natural procedure according to
numerical order would require that we treat two voiced [consonances] first, three-voiced
next, and four-voiced last of all, yet because those in four voices are the most common
and the most essential, encompassing and containing within them those of two and three
voices, we shall therefore treat them first, followed by those in two and last of all those in
three.
24

Essentially, Santa María’s “playing in consonances” is simply playing chords. Santa
María’s specific instructions can be summarized as the following: a bass line is added to a treble
part, after which the middle parts are formed of consonant intervals that complete 5/3 or 6/3

23
Ibid., 2:1 "..cumplir del todo el principal intento que arriba diximos, que es enseñar el arte del fantasia de la
Musica, practica, para que en breve tiempo y con menos trabajo se peuda alcançar." Translation by Howell and
Hultberg, Santa María, The Art of Playing the Fantasia, vol. 2, 1.
24
"Presupuesto el fundamento que hemos puesto de toda la Musica practica, y como solamente tenemos quatro
consonancias, y tres dissonancias, agora passando mas a delante, se a de notar que el comun tañer a consonancias, es
a quatro vozes, loqual encierra y contiene en si, el tañer a duo y a tres. Y por tanto trataremos de cada cosa en
particular, es a saber de las consonancias a quatro vozes, y de las de a duo y a tres. Y avunque el natural orden de
prceder, segun la questa de los numeros, pedia tratassemos primero de las de aduo, y despues de las de a tres, y
alapostre de las de a quatro, per porque las de a quatro son mas communes, y mas essenciales, por quanto encierran
y contienen en si las de aduo, y las de a tres, por tanto trataremos primero dellas, y despuse de las de a duo, y a la
postre de las de a tres." Santa María, Arte de tañer fantasia, 2:12. Translation by Howell and Hultberg, Santa María,
The Art of Playing the Fantasia, vol. 2:39.

185
triads. Rather than allowing for freely created bass lines, however, Santa María provides specific
patterns, based upon the interval between the bass and treble. (See Example 2.11). This is
precisely the hypothetical Italian sonare a consonanze just described. Santa María classifies his
“consonances” (or chords) according to a “best-to-worse”-style ranking system based on the
disposition of the inner parts and, ultimately, the resultant sonorities.
25
Demonstrating largely
through an encyclopedic collection of examples, Santa María explains that the multiplicity of
ways of filling in the chords is essential to the technique; they are needed in order to maintain
smooth and proper voice leading:
These variations among chords are so necessary that without them one could not play in
chordal style; for if we did not utilize such variant forms when playing in two or three or
more notes that ascend or descend by step or by leap in four-voiced imperfect consonant
chords of the same species (such as 10ths, or 13ths or their double or triple compounds),
we would produce two or more successive octaves, or two or more successive octaves
and 5ths together, according to number of notes of the ascent or the descent.
26

Notable is Santa María’s emphasis on a treble-bass polarity; indeed, it is the entire
structural foundation of the technique. This runs contrary to traditional views of modal theory in
the Renaissance, in which the tenor-superius duo served as the structural foundation – in a
practical sense until the mid-fifteenth century, and throughout the sixteenth century from a
theoretical perspective.
27
Santa María writes:
We should know that though a consonant chord may be of three, four, or more voices, it
is nevertheless identified by reckoning from the bass to the treble, the outer voices; for

25
For a thorough description of Santa María's method, see Roig-Francoli, "Compositional Theory," 206-14. The
chords are classified by certain “qualities” – factors such as pitch selection, distribution, doubling, and voicing.
26
"Estas differencias de consonancia son tan necessarias, que sin ellas no se puede tañer a consonancias, porque si
tañendo a quatro vozes y subiendo o baxando arreo, o de salto dos o tres punto o mas a consonancias imperfectas
que fean de una mesma spetie, assi como a dezenas, o a trezenas, o sus decompuestas, o trico impuestras, no
usassemos destas differencias se darian dos octavas o mas, una tras otra o juntamente dos quintas y dos octavas o
mas unas tras o tras, segun los puntos que se subiessen o baxassen." Santa María, Arte de tañer fantasia, 2:15;
English translation by Howell and Hultberg, Santa María, The Art of Playing the Fantasia, 2:48.
27
See Bernhard Meier, The Modes of Classical Vocal Polyphony, rev. ed. (New York: Broude Brothers Ltd., 1988);
see 1:47-88, on the importance of the superius-tenor framework for modal identification in sixteenth century four-
voice polyphony.

186
the inner voices, alto and tenor, serve solely to accompany and to fill out the space
(emphasis mine) between the outer parts in the successive ascent or descent of the four-
voiced chords, which are generally made up of rising or falling minims.
28

At the same time, as Miguel Roig- Francoli points out, the chords are formed from the bass
upwards; thus, although the soprano is harmonized and ostensibly drives the technique as the
starting place, the bass arguably holds the important functional role.
29

28
"Es da saber que avunque qualquiera consonancia se de a tres, o a quatro vozes o a mas, con todo eso siempre la
consonancia se entiende y se quenta desde el contrabaxo al tiple, que son las vozes extremas, porque las vozes
intermedias, que son tenor y contraalto, solamente sirven en las consonancias de accompañamineto y de hinchir el
vazio que ay entre las extremas quando se subiere o baxarearreo, a consonancias dadas a quatro vozes, loqual
comunmente se haze subiendo o baxando minimas". Santa María, Arte de tañer fantasia, 2:14v. English translation
by Howell and Hultberg, Santa María, The Art of Playing the Fantasia, 2:43.
29
Roig-Francoli, “Compositional Theory,” 209. Roig-Francoli notes that, in examining Santa María’s examples: “it
is best to double the bass, regardless of its function within the triad. Looking at his classification by degrees, it will
also be noticed that sonorities with larger intervals the bottom are more desirable than those with smaller intervals at
the bottom.” Elsewhere Santa María states that, in an unusual departure from standard sixteenth-century theory, the
mode of a given composition should be determined by the soprano, a function typically given to the tenor. Ibid., 41.
187
Santa María’s technique of playing in consonancias results in a musical texture
comparable to the Italian chord chains seen above: a melody or melodic fragment harmonized
with triads. In both, the harmony moves regularly in block minim chords. It is easy to speculate
that a technique similar to Santa María's could have been used in the Italian examples, if we
assume that they also were the product of a similar system of improvisation. Notable similarities
include the functional role of the treble-bass skeleton, the triadic harmonization, and the even
rhythmic motion at the minim. Both notably demonstrate a subservient role for the inner voices,
which for Santa María “serve solely to accompany and to fill out the space between the outer
parts”; the same subservient role is seen in the crude inner-part writing in the Italian chord
chains. Also notable are the similar musical contexts in which Santa María’s consonancias and
the Italian chord chains are observed. For Santa María, the consonancias can be used to
harmonize passos, short motives comparable to a subject. In his treatise, Santa María
demonstrates various ways in which to treat a passo in a contrapuntal texture.
30
These include
using the passo in duos and trios with and without imitation. Another manner of treating a passo,
according to Santa María, is in consonancias, resulting in a chordal texture comparable to the
chord chains seen earlier, with a subject or melodic fragment placed in the top voice with a
triadic accompaniment. A passo is essentially what Zarlino calls a soggetto – and, of course,
comparable to the soggetto of the sixteenth-century ricercar. Although the consistent application
of soggetti in imitative points is the structural principal of the imitative ricercar, the preludial
keyboard ricercars examined earlier use short subjects or fragments of subjects, albeit in far
looser fashion, despite their lack of pervasively imitative textures.
31
It is notable that many of the

30
Peter Schubert provides a chart demonstrating them. Peter Schubert, “Counterpoint Pedagogy,” in The Cambridge
History of Western Music Theory, ed. Thomas Christensen (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), 522.
31
For a thorough overview of the passo and Santa María’s technique of using them, see ibid., especially 519-25.
188
instances of chord chains are used in precisely the same way as in Santa María’s treatise: to
harmonize a soggetto that is placed in the treble.
Not all of the chord chains are used to accompany faster-moving soggetti, however.
Many instead treat slower-moving treble parts, which are often highly static (see Example 2.2e
above, and the Cavazzoni excerpt that opens the chapter). In fact, the Italian chords could be
placed into two broad groups, based on their durational values: those that move in minims (these
tend to be melodic fragments, ricercar soggetti, or cadences), and those that move in semibreves
(these tend to be static). It is interesting to note, however, that even the slower treble melodies
are often harmonized in minims, possibly indicating that the same generative technique was used
in both categories. Interestingly, Santa María’s technique shows precisely this same thing –
melodies in semibreves are to be conceived as split into minims when applying the technique of
tañer a consonancias.
32

There are a few important differences between the Italian consonanze and Santa María’s
consonancias. For example, while Santa María’s chords are strictly in four voices, the number of
voices in the Italian examples is variable. This may be due to the constrictions inherent in their
respective notation systems; Spanish organ tablature demanded four voices as part of its very
system (each line of tablature represented a part), while IKT allowed a much freer treatment of
voices and voice leading. One also gets the sense that, while improvisatory, Santa María’s
method was very much rooted in a kind of counterpoint procedure. For example, Santa María’s
ranking system was designed to enhance the independent voice leading of the inner parts, and his
musical examples are in partitura, not tablature. In contrast, the cinquecento music often shows
gross negligence in inner voice leading; parallel intervals are common, and the overall texture is

32
For Santa María’s advice on playing semibreves in consonancias, see vol. 2, chapter 12-22. Santa María, Arte de
tañer fantasia, 2:48-56; for an English translation, see Santa María, Art of Playing the Fantasia, 2:156-84.
189
treated with great freedom. One gets the sense that the Italian music was influenced by pure
playing rather than counterpoint; that is, chords were generated by dispositione di mano –
physical action and hand position – not by the abstract movement of independent parts. This is
highlighted by the use of short melodic sequences, shifts of range, “reinforcement” notes, and
clashing dissonances seen earlier. In this, the Italian chords are truly conceived as chords – from
a purely practical perspective, generated by disposizione di mano rather than by theory.
Nonetheless, the similarities demonstrated so far encourage a reading of the Italian
settings as related to a method of improvisation, much in the same way that Santa María’s
prescriptions create a step-by-step system of learning to play in fantasia. I would speculate that
the technique of sonare a consonanze was taught orally, within a student-teacher dynamic. It
should be stressed that there is no reason to suspect a direct link between the Spanish
consonancias and the Italian consonanze; rather, the Italian version would have been a similar
but separate phenomenon, in the same way that sixteenth-century counterpoint treatises from
diverse national traditions show basic similarities.
Of course, as I make the case for a specific comparison, it must be noted that both Santa
María’s tañer a consonancias and my hypothetical cinquecento technique can be placed in a
much wider context. There are many instances of “chordal thinking” in other sixteenth-century
theoretical sources, seen in, for example, the well-known “consonance tables” of Pietro Aron,
Zarlino, and other theorists.
33
Both Santa María and the cinquecento keyboard music examined
in this chapter should therefore be seen within the context of the emergent centrality of the

33
Even within this broader context, however, the Italian examples are notable for their obvious relationship to
keyboard playing – to dispositione di mano. For more on consonance tables in Renaissance theory treatises, see
Bonnie J. Blackburn, “On Compositional Process in the Fifteenth Century,” Journal of the American Musicological
Society 40 (1987): 217-19.

190
treble-bass pair in sixteenth-century composition and theory (even as the tenor maintained its
role in modal identification). As Benito Rivera indicates, there seems to be a strong connection
between this mode of thinking and instrumental practices, noting that two early sixteenth-century
treatises that indicate a chordal musical conception, by Simon de Quercu and Johannes Singer,
can be linked to instrumental music.
34
In addition, sonare a consonanze also foreshadows the
basso continuo era; as already noted, Banchieri’s versets are the first example of partimento, and
the music here suggest that the practice of using a bass for harmonic improvisation might have
existed well before the beginning of the seventeenth century. Although the Italian chord chains –
like Santa María’s consonancias – are used to harmonize a soggetto in the treble voice (that is, a
given soprano note is the starting place against which the bass note is chosen to harmonize it),
the harmonies are primarily generated by the bass.
The harmonic emphasis of the treble-bass skeleton in Santa María’s consonance
technique and in the Italian method ties these practices to later ones. As Johann Menke points
out, seventeenth-century improvisation was also grounded in a treble-bass skeleton; Menke
identifies the treble-bass frameworks in these cases as ex centro sound progressions, so called
because they “emphasize the ‘surface’ of the music.”
35
I would especially like to highlight here
the idea of sonority, that the aural effect of playing chordal harmonies on a keyboard instrument
could have driven the development of methods such as Santa María’s consonancias and the
Italian consonanze. The aural effect of playing full polyphony on a keyboard instrument –

34
These two relatively obscure treatises are particularly “progressive” in their vertical approach to harmony. See
Benito V. Rivera, “Harmonic Theory in Musical Treatises,” Music Theory Spectrum 1 (1979): 80-95. Rivera ties
these treatises specifically to instrumental practice; as he explains, “There can be no more question that all chord
combinations are meant to be reckoned from the bass upwards. Indeed one cannot imagine a more natural approach.
It is of interest that prior to his transfer in 1508 to the court of Maximilian I in Vienna, de Quercu had served as a
singer in the court of the Duke of Milan. The lively practice of instrumental music in both places apparently
exercised a great influence upon him.” Ibid., 85-86.
35
Menke, “Ex Centro,” 70.
191
especially an organ in a large acoustic – emphasized harmony over the movement of independent
voices, and perhaps organists began to improvise in a way that reversed the process, with
sonority generating the polyphony.

Ornamentation
As mentioned at the beginning of this section, I have deliberately (and somewhat artificially)
highlighted undecorated chord chains. I also mentioned that, in particular, much more of the
music suggests being conceived of – or generated as – plain chord chains that were subsequently
decorated with diminution. I would like to suggest that these undecorated chord chains represent
a clear glimpse of a generative process for many of the decorated chordal passages seen
elsewhere.
36
This is especially apparent in the many instances of chord chains with very light
ornamentation; in these, it is easy to see an underlying chordal structure underneath the short
ornamental figures. Example 2.12 demonstrates two such instances.
Instances like these are common; in fact, lightly embellished chord chains constitute a
“standard” texture in the preludial ricercar and liturgical settings alike. In a sense, these lightly
embellished passages function as a bridge between undecorated chordal sections and even more
elaborate versions, allowing a glimpse as to how the technique of sonare a consonanze might
have worked as an underlying compositional structure in seemingly thoroughly polyphonic
textures. The art of applying diminution to chords – which presumably was developed and taught

36
At the same time, it is important to remember that the evidence at hand is comprised of compositions, not
compositional exercises, and that these chord chains are therefore reflections of process, rather than explicit
examples of it.
192
through the act of playing – could be seen as constituting the fundamental art of the cinquecento
organist, even underlying seemingly complicated contrapuntal textures.
37

An examination of the repertoire suggests distinct categories of ornamented chord chains
(it is important to note that these often overlap): (a) chords decorated by suspensions; (b) chords
decorated with simple passing notes; (c) “toccata-style” passages in which chords in one hand
accompany rapid diminution in the other; and (d) broken chordal sections. Example 2.13
demonstrates instances of each category. The broken chords in Example 2.13d-f are striking, as

37
Long understood, of course, is the fundamental role that embellishment played in Renaissance keyboard music.

The only Italian source that explicitly deals with keyboard diminution is Diruta, although the many diminution
treatises extant for melodic instruments could easily be applied to the keyboard. Dalla Casa indicates in this preface
that his treatise is for "tutti gli Strumenti di fiato, & Tasti, & ogni sorte di Viola.” See Girolamo Dalla Casa, Il vero
modo di diminuir, con tutte le sorti di stromenti, 2 vols (Venice: Gardano, 1594), 1:[n.p]. See facsimile edtion, with
preface, by Giuseppe Vechhi (Bologna: A. Forni, 1996). In the second volume, Dalla Casa provides ten bastarda
division sets, as well as a setting of Rore's madrigal Alla dolc'ombra with diminutions applied to all parts; all of
these could ostensibly be arranged for keyboard.
193
194
they foreshadow the later style brisé of French lute and keyboard music; they also clearly reveal
a chordal conception. It is possible to imagine how patterns such as this – as well as simply
conceived ornamentation schemes such as passing figures between the two hands – could serve
as models for generating seemingly more complicated polyphonic structures. In particular, the
quasi-style brisé instances – fundamentally based on the artful re-striking of notes from
195
individual voices – seem to suggest the possibility of a "carving out" of polyphony from the
underlying chord chain. This process could be combined with diminution and other facets of
improvised counterpoint to generate seemingly complicated polyphony extemporaneously.

Sonare a Consonanze Extended: Harmonizing a Cantus Firmus
Passages suggestive of the technique of sonare a consonanze can be observed in liturgical
keyboard music from the same group of sources as the ricercars (see Table 2.1 earlier). A
thorough examination of these passages reveals instances that suggest a compositional process
involving the use of decorated chord chains. In these instances, chord chains are not only used to
harmonize short soggetti that move at the minim level, but also slower-moving CFs as well.
These CFs typically move in semibreves, similar to the slower static melodies observed earlier.
In general, these settings place the plainchant melody as a CF in one part, typically in the bass or
the soprano (and occasionally the tenor), around which the other parts make florid counterpoint
or form chordal structures elaborated with diminution.
38
Some settings treat the melody in
paraphrased imitative points, although this is relatively rare.
39
Several settings appear to be freely
composed with no obvious reference to the plainchant melody. That such a high degree of
variety occurs in a small sample pool indicates that the CF-style setting was only one of many

38
In general, keyboard versets in Italy became less based on plainchant as the sixteenth century progressed. See, for
example, Trabaci’s Centi versi for a set of liturgical versets without the use plainchant melodies. Giovanni Maria
Trabaci, Il secondo libro de ricercate & altri varij capricci (Naples: Carlino, 1615); facsimile ed. (Florence: Studio
per Edizioni Scelte, 1984).
39
Some of these imitative sections are evocative of the imitative ricercar; Mischiati points to the ricercar-like setting
of Pange lingue gloriosi in the hymn settings of Girolamo Cavazzoni. See the preface to Girolamo Cavazzoni,
Orgelwerke, ed. Oscar Mischiati (Mainz: B. Schott’s Söhne, 1959), 2:6.

196
options for sixteenth-century Italian organists.
40
Having said that, I will focus here on the CF
settings.
The Castell’Arqauto manuscript collection contain three alternatim Masses as well as
several settings of plainchant hymns. These liturgical versets often lack attribution; of the
Masses, only the Missa de la dominica has one, to “Jaches” (usually presumed to be Brumel,
following the suggestion of Knud Jeppesen; the musical style of this particular Mass seems
closer to that of Marco Antonio Cavazzoni than to that of Brumel, however).
41
Of the three Mass
settings, the Missa de la dominica treats the plainchant as a CF most consistently; even so, the
treatment is often loose, with the CF often disappearing under figuration. Structural
modifications such as omitting or adding notes to the CF, or inserting sections of toccata-like
passagework in between CF phrases, are common.
42
The plainchant in the Missa In
Solemnitatibus Beate Marie is also treated as a CF, but less consistently; in the Missa
dell’Apostoli, it is impossible to follow any CF, as H. Colin Slim points out.
43

The placement of the CF is significant. The Missa de la dominica consistently has it in
the treble (at least, when it is possible to trace it under the figuration), with the exception of three

40
It is notable that the majority of the settings in manuscript come from the large collection at Castell’Arquato. This
may seem to indicate a disproportionate representation of music from a particular geographical location; that the
extant sources of organ music from the period represent the tip of the iceberg is, of course, uncontroversial to state.
Having said that, it is interesting to note the overall historical importance of organists from Emilia in the
development of northern Italian organ playing in the sixteenth century. While the only existing organ music by
composers such as Jacopo Fogliano (organist at the Duomo in Modena and brother of the theorist Ludovico) and
Claudio Veggio is found in the Castell’Arquato archives, extant printed volumes of organ music by composers such
as Marco Antonio Cavazzoni, Girolamo Cavazzoni, and Giulio Segni (a student of Fogliano, and also from Modena)
highlight the importance of Emilian composers in the development of Northern Italian organ music: Segni was
organist at San Marco from 1530 to 1533 and his compositions were prominently featured in the 1540 Musica Nova,
and one of the most eminent San Marco organists in the sixteenth century, Claudio Merulo, came from Correggio,
outside of Reggio Emilia, and ended his career in Parma.
41
This piece is also examined in Knud Jeppesen,“Eine Frühe Orgelmesse aus Castell’Arquato,” Archiv für
Musikwissenschaft 12 (1955): 196-204.
42
This is compounded by the usual obstacles encountered when analyzing music based on plainchant melodies,
such as the possibility of local melodic variations and the application of melodic paraphrase.
43
Slim, Castell’Arquato, 2:x.
197
verses in which it is in the bass, and one in which it is placed in the alto (the "Et in terra pax"). It
should be stressed that, in this latter setting, the alto placement is not at all strict; the CF migrates
to the treble midway through, and even when it is in the alto it is accompanied with simple
triadic “reinforcement notes” above, in the manner seen in the ricercars earlier. The prominence
of the chant in the treble here is notable, as both Santa María’s consonancias and the Italian
chord chains involve a musical conception grounded in a treble-bass framework, and the
hypothesized sonare a consonanze involves the harmonization of a melody in the treble.
The first Christe is a good example of the general style and CF treatment in Missa de la
dominica (Example 2.14). The CF is found at the top of the texture, presented initially as a
single voice and then given “reinforcement” triadic harmonies in the right hand (measures 7-14);
in these cases, the harmonization clashes with the other parts, again resulting in startling
dissonance.
44
This can be clearly seen in measure 8, as the right-hand chords against the 7-6
suspension in the tenor part. Also noteworthy is the way in which the CF is set rhythmically;
although the plainchant melody is presented in even semibreves, it is consistently divided into
two minims, matching Santa María’s method of tañer a consonancias, as noted earlier. Overall,
the style is clearly idiomatic for keyboard rather than for voices. The largely chordal nature of
the setting is notable; the texture can clearly be imaged as a chord chain enlivened with added
suspensions and ornamental figurations.
Slim correctly notes that “to deem [the Missa de la Dominica's] movements as built on a
cantus firmus would be a little misleading,” as “traces of the chant sometimes disappear.”
45

However, it should be stressed that, when it is present, the chant CF is consistently presented in
the same manner – as two repeated minims, often reinforced with triadic notes – suggesting that

44
The similarity to Cavazzoni’s style is noted by Slim; see preface to Slim, Castell’Arquato 3:x.
45
Slim, Castell'Arquato 3:xii.
198
the manner of its application was consistent. In fact, I would suggest that it reflects a
compositional process in which chords were generated by sonare a consonanze, after which
extensive diminution was applied. As Slim suggests, the musical evidence does not suggest a
strictly contrapuntal compositional procedure in which a CF was used; the technique of sonare a
consonanze, with the application of diminution, is a highly plausible alternative.
This would, of course, align the Mass setting strongly with improvisation, and it is
interesting to note that there is other evidence for keyboard improvisation present in the setting.
For example, the texture relies frequently on parallel thirds and sixths (often applied in a highly
199
idiomatic manner).
46
In addition, short passages and figures are consistently repeated, suggesting
their use as internalized fragments that may have been taken from a stockpile of memorized
figures. Much in the same way as the formulae cited in Chapter 1 and described in the
Introduction, these are three-dimensional, that is, not single-line melodic figures, but complete
contrapuntal constructions incorporating multiple diminution figures. The consistent nature of
the figuration – with similar material often present in the same disposition – suggest that they
were conceived as intact units (see Example 2.15).

I would suggest that the Missa della Dominica was primarily composed (or improvised) by the
technique of sonare a consonanze. Of course, the music often has to be imagined as being
reduced to an underlying triadic structure. A glimpse of such a structure can be viewed in
another liturgical fragment, however. In the manuscript I-Vnm: Ms. It. IV 1227 (Ve) (Example

46
In a recent article Peter Schubert provides a list of techniques that could be used in improvised counterpoint. Peter
Schubert, “From Improvisation to Composition,” in Improvising Early Music (Ghent: Leuven University Press,
2014), 96.

200
2.16), the plainchant hymn Veni Creator Spiritus is harmonized simply.
47
The melody is placed
in the top voice, but without any added figuration. Notable is the crude counterpoint, exemplified
by the blatant parallel fifths and octaves. It is tempting to see this short hymn setting as a basic
version of playing in consonanze. As in the Castell Arquato Missa della Dominica the chords
here used to harmonize a plainchant melody in the treble; to produce something more elaborate,
one would only need to add figuration to the basic chordal texture.
48
Turning now to the other
two Masses from the Castell’Arquato collection, we see that, at first glance, they don’t seem to
use a treble-bass framework. Indeed, in the Missa dell’Apostoli the chant is virtually untraceable,
save for a few instances. Slim attributed this to its “largely chordal nature.”
49
Strangely enough,
the style of the setting suggests a CF harmonized through playing in consonanze, even as the
melody doesn’t seem to correspond with the traditionally used plainchant.
50
(It is possible that
the verset sets a local chant variant that deviates considerably from the one used in other
cinquecento organ settings.) But I would challenge Slim’s characterization of the setting being
chordal rather than contrapuntal. If anything, the style of the setting is comparable to that of a
preludial ricercar, composed of a patchwork of short sections with distinct textures and
figurations; several of these settings consist of undecorated and decorated chord chains. In

47
Although this manuscript is primarily comprised of balli settings, there are also two short settings of hymns. For
a modern edition, see Christopher Hogwood, Balli per cembalo: 90 Keyboard Pieces from Early Italian Manuscripts
(Launton, UK: Edition HH, 2007).
48
As already indicated, the treatment of the plainchant in all of the music examined here divides the music into two
basic categories, with the plainchant material is either used as a CF or paraphrased and treated imitatively. The
settings in which the plainchant is treated imitatively generally demonstrate more developed counterpoint than the
CF settings. The setting of the Patrem omnipotentem from the Credo of the Castell’Arquato Missa de la Dominica
examined above shows a markedly different style from the rest of the Mass; Slim echoes Knud Jeppesen in positing
that the Credo could even be by another composer, although he points to some concurrent features with the rest of
the Mass – for example, the use of parallel-third figurations in the left hand. However, even here, there is evidence
for a chord-based procedure in certain sections; for example, in measures 19-20, the left hand demonstrates “bad”
voice leading that is difficult to explain, even with the qualifier that Italian keyboard tablature didn’t indicate voice
leading as a by-product of notational convention. See Slim, Castell’Arquato, 3:xii
49
Slim, Castell’Arquato, 2:x
50
As used in settings by Girolamo Cavazzoni, Andrea Gabrieli, Girloamo Frescobaldi, and Claudio Merulo.
201
general, I would argue that these indeed reflect the technique of sonare a consonanze, even as it
is applied to seemingly free, fragmentary soggetti rather than to a CF from a traditional liturgical
melody.
In the Missa In Solemnitatibus Beate Marie, the CF is used more or less consistently, but
it is almost always placed in the tenor. This would suggest an alternative generative process, one
distinct from the one described in this chapter. However, the texture is still frequently chordal in
its orientation, and the bass serves as the driver of the harmony. We could easily imagine a
generative procedure in which the tenor-bass framework is used as the fundamental structure,
rather than a treble-bass framework; in this scenario the soprano would have been added as a
contrapunctus to the core tenor-bass structure. The setting fits this description well: notably, it is
often in a three-voice texture, which is unusual when compared to other cinquecento settings.
The soprano often forms parallel thirds with other parts, suggestive of improvisation,
51
and the
texture usually thickens to four voices in cadences. The use of a tenor-bass framework rather
than a treble-bass framework highlights the important role of the bass; regardless of whether the

51
See Peter Schubert's chart cited above; Peter Schubert, “From Improvisation to Composition,” 96.
202
central dyad is treble-bass or tenor-bass, it is the bass that drives the harmony. It is no accident
that Banchieri gives basso continuo parts for his versets in L’organo suonarino.

Girolamo Cavazzoni’s Hymn Settings
Further evidence of sonare a consonanze can be seen in Girolamo Cavazzoni’s published
liturgical versets, found in his two published volumes of organ music (I will focus on his hymn
versets here).
52
It is interesting to note that Cavazzoni’s versets match exactly what a competent
organist would be expected to be able to improvise in a liturgical context; this is demonstrated by
a comparison with the famous San Marco prove:

First: One opens a chapel book [choir book] and at random one finds the opening
of a Kyrie, or a motet, and it is copied and given to the organist competing. Over
this subject the organist should improvise strictly, not mixing together the parts,
as in four singers singing separate [parts].

Second: One opens the book of canti fermi at random, and a cantus firmus from
an introit or something is copied, and given to the candidate, upon which he
should play, drawing out the three parts [cavando le tre parti]; putting the cantus
firmus once in the bass, another time in the tenor, then in the alto, and finally in
the soprano. He should play strict imitations, and not play simple accompaniment.

Third: The Cantor of the chapel will sing some verses from compositions that
aren't used often, and the candidate must imitate and response [to the choir] in the
tone and outside the tone; these improvisational tests will clearly indicate the
worth of the candidate.
53

52
One of Cavazzoni’s hymn settings – the Christe Redemptor Omnium – is copied in the Castell’Arquato
manuscripts.
53
"Primo – Si apre il libro di Capella et a sorte si trova un principio di Kyrie, ovvero di Motetto, et si copia,
mandandolo all’Organista che concorre, il quale sopra quell sugetto ne l’istesso organo vacante deve sonar di
fantasia regolatamente, non confondendo le parti, come che Quattro cantori cantassero.
Secondo – Si apre il libro de’canti Fermi a sorte, et si copia un canto fermo o d’introito o d’altro, et si
manda al detto Organista, opra il quale deve sonar, cavando le tre parti: facendo il detto canto fermo una volta in
basso, l’altra in tenore, poi in contralto, et soprano: cavando fughe regolatamente, et non semplici
accompagnamenti.
Terzo – Si fa cantar la Capella de’Cantori qualche versetto di compositione non troppo usitata, la qual deve
imitar et rispondergli si in tuono, come fuori di tono: et quest cose fatte d’improvviso dan chiaro indicio del valor de
l’Organista, facendole bene." Cited in Francescio Caffi, Storia della Musica Sacra nella già Capella Ducale di S.
Marco in Venezia (Venice: Antonelli Ed. 1854); reprint (Milan: Bollettino Bibliografico Musicale, 1931), 28.
203

A few of Cavazzoni’s settings paraphrase the chant, creating a texture not unlike that of an
imitative ricercar. These settings match the description of the first prova. The majority of the
settings treat the chant as a CF, which is comparable to the second prova (Table 2.3
demonstrates Cavazzoni’s treatment of the plainchant throughout the settings – these two broad
categories also apply to the liturgical music in Castell’Arquato, as demonstrated earlier.) While
Cavazzoni’s settings demonstrate greater contrapuntal independence in their polyphonic parts
when compared to the Missa de la Dominica or the hymn fragment in Venice 1227 – just as
requested by the second prova (“.. cavando fughe regolatamente, et non semplici
accompagnamenti..”) – there are nonetheless traces of an underlying homophonic structure. In
fact, the admonition to avoid “semplici accompagnati” – which is cast in direct opposition to a
thoroughly imitative contrapuntal texture ("fughe regolatamente") – may very well imply chordal
accompaniment.

Table 2.3: Girolamo Cavazzoni: Treatment of Plainchant in Alternatim Hymn Settings

Ad Coenam Agni providi CF chant in top voice. CF statement preceded by
imitative counterpoint
paraphasing CF melody.
Ave Maris Stella CF in bottom and top voices;
paraphrase.
In the style of an imitative
ricercar; CF treatment very free.
Christe Redemptor Omnium CF in bottom and top voices. CF melody paraphrased in
imitation between CF statements.
Deus tuorum militum CF in top voice. Introductory duo paraphrases
chant.
204
Ad Coenam Agni providi CF chant in top voice. CF statement preceded by
imitative counterpoint
paraphasing CF melody.
Exultet coelum laudibus CF in bottom voice. CF statement preceded by
imitative counterpoint
paraphasing CF melody.
Hotis Herodes impie CF in top voice.
Iste Confessor No CF, although hymn melody is
paraphrased entirely in top voice.
No traditional CF statement; in
the style of imitative ricercar.
Jesu Corona Virginum CF treatment in bottom voice
and tenor.

Jesu Nostra Redemptio CF in tenor.
Lucis Creator Optime CF in bottom voice. CF melody paraphrased in
imitation between CF statements.
Pange Linuga Glorisi No CF; hymn phrases worked in
successive points of imitation
In the style of an imitative
ricercar; five points of imitation
based on successive phrases of
the hymn melody.
Veni Creator Spiritus CF in top voice with added
figuration.

Fitting the pattern that emerges in the Missa de la Dominica, the majority of Cavazzoni’s
CF-style settings place the melody in either the top or bottom voice. As in the Mass, this is
significant, pointing to the role of the treble-bass framework. In his setting of the Vespers hymn
Ave Maris Stella (Example 2.17), Cavazzoni begins with free imitation of the opening phrase of
the plainchant hymn until measure 10, at which point the hymn tune enters as a CF in the top
part. The harmonization at this point is similar to that seen in the Missa de la Dominica setting in
205
Example 2.15 (the hymn melody is marked with xs while the chord structures are in boxes).
While the effect is that of complicated polyphony, one can easily imagine an underlying
structure of a simple chordal framework; in fact, the first chords are ornamented simply with
suspensions and broken-chord patterns. It is interesting to note that the first segment to
demonstrate signs of sonare a consonanze coincides directly with the arrival of the CF; up
through this point, the introductory counterpoint paraphrases the chant melody in imitation. That
is, musical-stylistic evidence for the technique arrives precisely where it is expected, being used
to harmonize a slow CF statement of the chant in the treble.
The use of chord chains links Cavazzoni’s versets to the Castell’Arquato repertoire
examined earlier. I would like to suggest that, in the case of cinquecento keyboard playing, the
harmonization of a melody through a treble-bass framework – the technique of sonare a
206
consonanze – may have developed specifically in this liturgical context. I would also propose
that this technique was a basic method used in the extemporaneous creation of liturgical music in
Italy in the first half of the sixteenth century; it presumably continued, as the fact that the second
San Marco prova warns the organist to not play “semplici accompagnamenti” surely indicates
that some organists may have done just that.
54

Sonare a consonanze and IKT
We can now return to the larger question, regarding the relationship between these practices and
IKT’s notational conventions. To begin, I would like to highlight two general tendencies in the
above analyses: (a) the favoring of a sounding treble-bass structure over truly independent parts,
and (b) the role of a regular rhythmic unit, that of the minim, for both melodic motion and for
changes of sonority. These tendencies also apply to the chordal style in early sixteenth-century
keyboard music in general. I would also like to point out that these observations correlate
remarkably well with the IKT conventions highlighted in Chapter 1. We’ve seen in the previous
chapter that IKT’s practice of stem directions hides the polyphonic integrity of voices; at the
same time, it creates a new set of “tablature voices.” With this process, the sounding treble-bass
pair takes precedence over the other parts. The music in this chapter also reveals influence of an
underlying treble-bass structure: in liturgical music plainchant tends to be placed in the treble or
bass rather than in the inner voices, and ricercar subjects are almost always found in the treble.
Both are accompanied with triads in a homophonic texture, driven by the treble-bass framework

54
Lastly, there is also the possibility of organ accompaniment of sung plainchant; while there is not much musical
evidence for this – the existing liturgical music are florid alternatim settings – Gary Towne argues for the
possibility, and it is quite possible that this practice did indeed exist on some level. See Gary Towne, “Music and
Liturgy in Sixteenth-Century Italy: The Bergamo Organ Book and Its Liturgical Implications,” Journal of
Musicology 6 (1988): 471–509. For another theory of sixteenth-century performance practice, one that suggests the
solo singing of plainchant with organ accompaniment, see Arnaldo Morelli, “"Cantare sull'organo," 183-206.

207
of the consonanze; the inner voices exist only to fill the harmony, and often demonstrate crude
counterpoint. Therefore both IKT and the music seen in this chapter stress the overall sonority of
music over the precise contour of individual voices. In fact, I would speculate that the treble-bass
conception in both the intabulations and in the abstract and liturgical music seen here reflect the
same process – both conceptually and practically.
The music in this chapter also shares a similar rhythmic approach with IKT and
intabulation. In IKT polyphony tends to “coalesce” around regular rhythmic units, through
practices such as breaking longer notes into shorter ones. This results in a general reduction of
the independence of the model’s parts, which lose their rhythmic independence to form quasi-
chordal structures. The music seen in this chapter also shows a preference for regular chordal
motion: the plainchant or soggetto is typically rhythmically even, and accompanied with regular
chords. These chords follow a steady minim pulse, often even when the CF is in semibreves.
I would argue that the similarities between IKT’s conventions and the music seen in this
chapter are more than coincidental; rather, they – as well as the process of intabulation examined
in the previous chapter – all reflect keyboard thinking: the thought processes, conceptions, and
internalized mechanical actions involved in sixteenth-century keyboard playing and composition.
In fact, keyboard thinking – and specifically, its unwritten practices – actively shaped the music
written down on paper (whether by hand or by printing press) and the system used to notate it.
This leads to a basic tension between the unwritten traditions which, by definition, didn't make
use of notation, and the notational system, which was not only shaped by the unwritten tradition
but, as has been argued in the previous chapter, could actively alter the music itself.
Intuitively, it certainly seems reasonable to assume that performance tradition and
musical style could play significant roles in shaping the laws and conventions of a particular
208
notational system such as IKT. Musical notations develop in a way that reflect the musical
cultures that shape them, mirroring the practices and musical thinking of their users. For
example, modern notation is limited in its ability to capture certain performance nuances and
practices, such as blue notes or portamenti; in a broad sense, its limitations are directly related to
the prioritization of the Werktreue ideal.
55
Lute tablature notations graphically represent aspects
of the instrument, and by extension, the action involved with playing it. In contrast, it is
interesting to note that early modern keyboard tablature notations that are based on the use of
figures instead of mensural notation, such as German or Spanish organ tablature, are
conceptually grounded in the principal of partitura (that is, they portray a musical reality formed
of independent voices). At the same time, figures represent the physical keys of the keyboard –
hence these notations simultaneously prioritize an “intellectual” musical conception in addition
to a “physical” one. Lute intavolatura, on the other hand, is not concerned at all with intellectual
musical conceptions – its signs graphically represent the instrument, its frets and strings. As
argued in the previous chapter, IKT graphically represents the instrument – and the actions
involved in playing the instrument – as well. And, as cinquecento keyboard playing was
primarily an oral practice, IKT arguably reflects these unwritten practices and playing styles to a
greater degree than do other early keyboard notations.
If we accept the notion that notational systems partially reflect the way that a culture
conceived of music, it seems noteworthy that the first extant volumes in IKT reflect a particularly

55
Speaking generally of the “impossibility” of transcribing improvisation, Derek Bailey writes: “Firstly, it is not
possible to transcribe improvisation. There have been some attempts; usually of jazz solos, or organ improvisations
and sometimes of ‘ethnic’ music. Invariably the transcription is into ‘standard’ music notation, a system which
concerns itself almost exclusively with representing pitch and rhythm within certain conventions.” Derek Bailey,
Musical Improvisation: Its Nature and Practice in Music (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1980), 25.
Bailey’s argument – not quoted here entirely – is founded on theoretical grounds as well as practical ones, touching
upon the limitations of “standard” music notation when used for certain types of music.

209
idiomatic style, one whose emergence appears to accompany that of IKT in the first decades of
the sixteenth century.
56
It is therefore tempting to connect style with notation, a notion partially
supported by the fact that several early IKT volumes stress novelty in either their notation or in
their printing technology. For example, Marco Antonio Cavazzoni was granted a privilege by the
Venetian senate in 1522 or 1523 for “Una nova forma de tablature de metter canti, messe, et altre
cose; et quelli sonar in organo et altri simel instrumenti,”
57
and Jacques Buus’ 1549 volume of
intabulated ricercars, printed by Gardane, goes out of its way to note that it was “novamente
stampata con carateri di stagno.”
58
There appears to be, at the very least, a casual relationship
between early cinquecento keyboard music and the need for technological developments in the
notation used to print it.
The tension between unwritten practices and notational sysem leads to what must be
identified as a major caveat: as IKT’s functioning is regulative – that is, it altered the music it
transmitted through its very nature – it could be argued that the similarities are explained by the
use of IKT itself (as opposed to compositional agency). In other words, the fact that the music
under analysis shares features with IKT is precisely because it is notated in IKT. While
impossible to disprove, one major rejoinder to this argument is the lack of a model: IKT
translates the polyphonic structure of a pre-existing polyphonic composition algorithmically, as
part of the intabulation process. Did the ricercars and liturgical versets seen here have fully

56
In particular, Marco Antonio Cavazzoni’s 1523 collection seems to herald a dramatically new style of keyboard
music; of course, the overall lack of existing evidence undoubtedly leads to an incomplete picture. There is a
striking contrast between the music of the early cinquecento that is analyzed here and that of the Faenza Codex, the
only source of Italian keyboard music extant before Antico’s 1517 volume of intabulated frottole; the missing
sources between the two would presumably smooth over the stylistic chasm between them. See Andrea Antico,
Frottole intabulate per [i.e. da] sonare organi [libro primo]; facsimile ed. (Bologna: Forni, 1970).
57
Richard Agee, “The Venetian Privilege and Music-Printing in the Sixteenth Century” Early Music History 3
(1983), appendix, no. 10.
58
Jacques Buus, Intabolatura d’Organo di Recercari (Venice: Gardane, 1549); see facsimile and modern edition by
Liuwe Tamminga ([Bologna]: Arnaldo Forni Editore, 2004).
210
polyphonic models conceived abstractly? Or were they composed directly from the keyboard
into IKT? Notably, several of the ricercars in the Castell’Arquato manuscripts were written down
in various forms of partitura, not IKT, yet demonstrate the same keyboard idiomatic style as
those written down in IKT, indicating that, if anything, “original models” here were conceived in
IKT, not in independent abstract parts.
Nonetheless, a concrete answer is impossible, at least if the question is approached
empirically; there are simply too many unknowns and hypothetical factors. In fact, it is this sort
of circular argument that may be best approached holistically; rather than making a case for
notational convention being influenced by the music, or the other way around, the most
satisfying answer may be to accept that both ultimately collapse at their point of origin: the mind
of the cinquecento keyboardist.
In the end, this chapter may seem to have generated questions rather than conclusions.
However, the two central claims – that sixteenth-century Italian organists relied on a treble-bass
structure as a fundamental component of their music-making, and that this method profoundly
affected the nature and conventions of IKT – seem supported by the available evidence. More
broadly, it has demonstrated the need for the scholar to consider the tension – seemingly
paradoxical – between notation and the unwritten tradition. The various intersections between
the two reveal glimpses of the way that cinquecento keyboardist conceived of music. They also
call into question some of the core assumptions regarding musical creation; if organists created
polyphonic textures in a process that began with chordal harmony first, and then subsequently
generated counterpoint through diminution over chord structures, other musicians might have
done so as well. That is, perhaps the strong harmonic blocks commonly heard in late sixteenth-
211
century music were not simply the “accidental” product of the multi-layering of melodies, but
were the starting place, with the melodies drawn from the harmony.
212
Chapter 3
Sounding Images and Dotte Partiture:
Authorial Self-Fashioning in Cinquecento Keyboard Intabulations

In Chapter 1, I suggested that IKT and its particular notational conventions worked
algorithmically, automatically adapting polyphony into an idiomatic, keyboardistic mode.
1
The
pillars of this theoretical model are distinct but related: 1) musical style was embedded within the
logic of the notational format, as the notational conventions were themselves grounded in and
formed of keyboard playing; 2) the act of notating a piece in IKT quite literally mirrored that of
playing it or improvising the resulting work; and 3) IKT forced the music it notated to adopt a
particular idiomatic style through the actions of its unwritten conventions.
IKT’s algorithmic adoption of polyphony is most readily apparent in examining
intabulations. It can be seen clearly in Example 3.1, for instance, from Gabrieli's intabulation of
Janequin’s chanson Martin Menoit. IKT’s notational conventions obscure the four-part voice
leading of the model. For example, the stem directions are always arranged by the vertical array
of the notes (see, for example, measure 20). In measure 13 the unison between the Altus and
Superius on the b-flat' on the second beat is hidden, and in the same measure the voice-crossing
between the same voices is hidden by stem direction. (The same processes can be seen in

1
Chapter 1 explored two other models that describe the relationship between an intabulation and its model. Keith
Polk and Victor Coehlo have suggested that intabulations can be seen as translations of vocal polyphony, from a
vocal "language" to the “vernacular” (see Chapter 1, p. 23). Victor Coelho and Keith Polk, Instrumentalists and
Renaissance Culture, 1420-1600: Players of Function and Fancy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2016),
189-225.
In addition, Leon Chisholm has examined the intabulation process as the principal site for a comparative
analysis between the paradigm of experience polyphony collectively, as a group of singers, and that of experiencing
it as a solo instrumentalist; Chisholm's theory partly draws from cognitive science. See Leon Chisholm, "Keyboard
Playing and the Mechanization of Polyhpony, Circa 1600" (PhD. diss., University of California, Berkeley, 2015),
20-70.
213
measure 17 as well.) "Fake" parallel octaves can be seen in measure 19 – fake because they aren't
214
present in the original polyphony, but created through IKT stem-direction practice. In addition,
several outright alterations of the original polyphony are affected. For example, the Altus's a's
are removed in measures 18-20; this is to facilitate the passaggio in the top staff. Together, all of
those processes create a texture that is highly idiomatic to keyboard playing. And, as I suggested,
it is almost as if these features – including the brief instances of recomposition or revoicing –
were affected by the notational format itself, which seems to act under its own agency. In this
sense, IKT seems to convert vocal polyphony into an automatic keyboardistic texture, its
unwritten rules functioning algorithmically.
As I suggested previously, IKT and Italian lute intavolatura are similar in the sense that
the mensural notes in IKT should not be considered as sounding pitches, but as the physical keys
of the keyboard – in this sense IKT is a mechanical notation like all other tablature formats.
However, the fact that IKT uses mensural note signs rather than figures leads to a peculiar
situation: mensural notation allows for the possibility of IKT's rules to be broken, in that
notational detail such as stem directions, the addition of ties, and the like can easily be added in a
way that is difficult to do in figure-based tablature systems. This rule-breaking can be seen in
Example 3.1. The ties in the bottom staff measures 13-14 do not conform to IKT practice; in fact,
they actually create an unidiomatic keyboard texture, at least as if followed slavishly. (Finger
substitution was not explicitly discussed in any Italian source until the eighteenth century.)
2
The
ties don't facilitate an easy-to-play texture for the player; rather than creating a readable score –
seemingly the universal mission of Renaissance tablature notations – it seems as if Gabrieli
wanted to reveal the voice leading of the model, voice leading that is typically hidden by IKT
convention and normal intabulation processes. The chord on the second beat in the bottom staff

2
See Calvert Johnson, “Early Italian Keyboard Fingering,” Early Keyboard Journal 10 (1992), 44.
215
in measure 15 is also rather unidiomatic, but it is faithful to the original voice leading; the same
thing can be said for the attempt to include the Tenor part in the first half of measure 16 in the
top staff. Instances like these, which appear to push back against the algorithmic functioning of
IKT conventions, appear frequently in the intabulations of Andrea Gabrieli and Claudio Merulo,
even as they generally adhere to them. One gets the sense that the intabulator makes a conscious
decision to resist the conventions and the notational system’s algorithmic action in doing so.
If we accept that these instances represent the agency of the intabualor, it is worth asking
why they were done. Rather than being conducted on a more-or-less random basis, I suggest that
specific instances of IKT rule violations in intabulations of polyphonic music can be read within
a theory of authorial self-fashioning: the construction of musical persona through exploiting or
pushing against IKT’s notational conventions, which work as a constant background force.
While some intabulations affirm IKT conventions to create a reproduction of an improvisatory
gloss of the vocal model, others resist IKT conventions to create a tablature that shows
polyphonic detail. I call intabulations that demonstrate the affirmational tendency sounding
images, and those that demonstrate the resistant tendency dotte partiture. Sounding images are
conceptually rooted in IKT’s mimetic qualities, encompassing the way that IKT seeks to
represent the keyboard as well as the actions involved in playing the keyboard. Dotte partiture –
“learned scores,” a term adapted from Vincenzo Galilei’s lute treatise Il Fronimo
3
– are
conceptually rooted in IKT’s potential functioning as a partitura, or full score, a format strongly

3
The phrase Galilei uses is “dotte intavolature,” in reference to the intabulations of Francesco di Milano. Fronimo
Dialogo di Vincentino Galilei nobile Florentino, sopra l'arte del bene intavolare... 2nd ed. (Venice: Scotto, 1584),
25.

216
associated with both studiosi of counterpoint and artificioso composition, and, more particularly,
with a sub-culture that Naomi Barker has recently identified as musica erudita.
4

It is important to note that this theory encompasses both single instances of rule violation
and general tendencies – indeed, instances of both can often be seen in the same intabulation.
Sounding images and dotte partiture are rooted in IKT’s Janus-faced nature, and I argue that
each is exploited by intabulator-composers in order to fashion particular musical personas for
their audience: situating themselves along a spectrum from learned-transcriber-theorist to expert
keyboardist skilled in the art of improvisation.
My argument will proceed in the following manner. First I will establish the necessary
notational conditions for IKT’s functioning as a tool for self-fashioning. In particular, I will
argue that IKT should be seen as mimetic, and that its mimesis can be seen as operating in
multiple ways: as a graphic representation of the keyboard, as a set of instructions to the player,
as a graphic representation of performance. These multiple mimetic functions in turn suggest
multiple modes of engagement. Building on recent work of Cristle Collins Judd and Anthony
Newcomb
5
, I suggest that IKT could be read as well as played, and that, to adopt language of
Cristle Collins Judd, “this reading and playing may take many forms.”
6
Particularly, I argue for a
mode of reception that is a form of silent reading, and I also argue that certain notational features

4
See Anthony Newcomb, "Notions of Notations around 1600," Il saggiatore musicale 22 (2015): 5-31; and Naomi
Barker, "Music, Antiquity and Self-Fashioning in the Accademia dei Lincei," The Seventeenth Century 30 (2015):
375-90. Barker establishes the term "musica erudita" as consisting of two principal strains: musical compositions of
the artificioso type, and the humanist interest in the musical-intellectual culture of Antiquity. See Barker, "Music,
Antiquity and Self-Fashioning," 376.
Regarding the Venetian market (and, by extension, Venetian musical spaces), Stanley Boorman notes that
"the Venetian music publisher saw his musical market as having only two components – the full professional and
sophisticated amateur, and the purchaser of villanelle and similar musics." Stanley Boorman, "The Music Publisher's
View of his Public's Abilities and Taste," reprinted in Studies in the Printing, Publishing and Performance of Music
in the 16th Century, Variorum Collected Studies Series (Aldershot and Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2005), 427.
5
Newcomb, “Notions.” Cristle Collins Judd, Reading Renaissance Music Theory: Hearing with the Eyes
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000).
6
Cristle Collins Judd, Reading Renaissance Music, 8. Judd here writes about the function of musical examples in
texts about music; as I go on to argue, the dynamic similarly applies to books of keyboard music.
217
should be viewed as visual signs. In this, I explore the functioning of books of intabulations as
material objects that invite a variety of modes of engagement. I then turn to sociological
considerations, arguing that two organists in particular – Andrea Gabrieli and Claudio Merulo –
present cases of intabulator-as-author. I also suggest motives for using intabulations as a vehicle
for self-fashioning, arguing for a direct engagement, on the part of the composers, with humanist
academies in Venice. Given the lack of a complete biographical picture, particularly in the case
of Andrea Gabrieli, I also establish general patterns based on the biographies of other northern
Italian organist-composers. Finally, I then demonstrate the functioning of the sounding image /
dotta partitura model in intabulations of Merulo and Gabrieli.
My argument hinges upon the assumption that intabulations increasingly held a “high-
art” status through the sixteenth century. Intabulations in IKT were, like their lute cousins, not
merely derivative, but autonomous, as Polk and Coelho have suggested.
7
Vincenzo Galilei's lute
treatise Fronimo – dedicated entirely to the art of intabulation for that instrument – is indicative
of the "high art" status that intabulating achieved in general by the end of the century.
8
Likewise,
printed keyboard intabulations that appear in Venice at the end of the century can and should be
seen as important manifestations of the art of the cinquecento keyboardist-composer.

7
Polk and Coelho, Instrumentalists, 216.
8
Galilei's emphasis on proper counterpoint and his meticulous attention to mundane detail, such as when and when
not to repeat notes, show that intabulation was not merely a technical exercise, and intabulations are not simply
pedestrian arrangements of vocal music (although some certainly might be described in these terms); in addition,
Galilei’s language suggests considering intabulations as autonomous works of art in and of themselves. See
Vincenzo Galilei, Il Fronimo: Dialogo di Vincentino Galilei nobile Florentino, sopra l'arte del bene intavolare...
2nd ed. (Venice: Scotto, 1584); for an English translation, see Vincenzo Galilei, Fronimo, trans. and ed. Carol
MacClintock, Musicological Studies and Documents 39 (Neuhausen-Stuttgart: American Institute of Musicology,
1985).

218
Intabulations as Mimesis: Notational Preconditions
Writing of lute and keyboard intabulations generally, Howard Mayer Brown noted that
The volumes of music published by these men are thus the closest thing to
phonograph records that we shall ever have from the sixteenth century, for they
preserve personal, idiosyncratic versions of well-known compositions as they
were performed by leading sixteenth-century virtuosi.
9

This famous statement speaks to a fundamental truth of tablature notation and intabulations.
Admittedly there is a danger of superimposing a modern way of thinking on the sixteenth
century, specifically, a desire or imagination for the ability to make audio recordings; that said,
tablature notation does seem to have functioned, in some sense, as a technological response – a
desire to reproduce performance. In a broader sense, one might draw an analogy with the later
phenomenon of automatons, or with Giambattista Aleotti's attempts to construct mechanical
organs, all being attempts to use technology to “replicate” reality.
10
Of course, intabulations are
quite literally res facta – and, books of intabulations, material objects – that reflect the physical
motions of performance. There is a fundamental duality to intabulations in this sense: on the one
hand, they are carefully crafted material objects; on the other, they are frozen performances, or at
least closer to the source than other forms of notation. Their nature is informed by this
fundamental tension between the permanent and the spontaneous.
As mentioned in Chapter 1, the representational qualities of IKT can be described in
multiple ways. Example 3.2, from Sperindio Bertoldo's intabulation of Crecquillon's chanson
Petite fleur, demonstrates the multifarious functioning of this mimesis. The behavior of the
notation in Bertoldo's example can easily be explained if it is viewed as a graphical

9
H. M . Brown, Embellishing Sixteenth Century Music (London: Oxford University Press, 1976),
xiii.
10
See Kimberly M. Parke, "Engineering Music: A Critical Inquiry into Giambattista Aleotti's 'De la musica' (1593)”
(PhD diss., University of California, Berkeley, 2006), for more on Aleotti’s mechanical organ.
219
representation of the keyboard, just as lute i nt a v o l a t ur a is a graphical representation of that
220
instrument. To start, Bertoldo follows IKT conventions in textbook fashion. No unisons or voice-
crossings are present. This practice makes sense if the notes are seen not as symbols for tones but
for keys. In addition, not one of the four rests seen in the intabulation exist in the original model.
They are all "fake" rests, and specifically mechanical or pause di mano, in that they literally tell
the player to remove a finger from a key.
11
This again points to the physical-representational
quality of the notation. In addition, the alterations to the polyphony that Bertoldo makes are all
conceptually grounded in the notion of creating a score that is idiomatic and easy to play. While I
have previously suggested that IKT's representational nature has to be taken as partly conceptual
rather than as absolutely literal, Bertoldo's intabulation here makes sense if viewed as an image
of the keyboard, again with the notes quite literally being signs – exactly equivalent to the
figures used in German tablature or Spanish cifras – that represent the keys.
However, lute intavolatura does not only graphically depict the instrument, but also
contains embedded within it a set of coded instructions to the player. Without having to be able
to read mensural notation or understand music theory at all, the player can simply follow the
instructions and execute the music. The player need not understand anything of the structural
components of the music at all. If we read IKT as representing the instrument in the same
manner as lute intavolatura, it follows that IKT has embedded within it the same sort of
instructions as well. And, a player of IKT would not really need to understand a great deal of
music theory to play from it, but would only have to learn which notes on the staff represent the
equivalent keys on the keyboard, and the durations signaled by the mensural note signs -- the
tendency of publishers to try to align notes vertically absolves the player of having to count too

11
The term pause di mano was coined by Giuseppe Clericetti, “Criteri per un’edizione moderna della musica per
strumenti a tastiera di Andrea Gabrieli,” in Andrea Gabrieli e il suo tempo, ed. Francesco Degrada, Studi di musica
veneta 11 (Florence, Italy: Leo S. Olschki, 1987), 373. See discussion in Chapter 1.
221
much. Here, IKT is mimetic in the sense that it represents the actions of the player, represented
by the instructions embedded within the tablature. On a functional level, the player of Bertoldo's
intabulation would act as the mechanism of a player piano, executing a set of instructions and
recreating a performance. In this way an intabulation can be also seen as a sixteenth-century
attempt at creating something that might be compared to an audio recording today.
The mimetic nature of tablature notation, and of IKT in particular, can be viewed from
yet another angle. Beyond having a purely functional purpose – that is, to be used in keyboard
playing – it is conceivable that prints in IKT were intended to be read as well as played from.
That is, they served as visual references to both the physical actions of keyboard playing and to
the experience of listening to keyboard playing. The concept of early-modern score reading has
traditionally been a contentious one in scholarship, but recently Cristle Collins Judd has
described modes of music reading in her monograph Reading Renaissance Music Theory:
Hearing with the Eyes.
12
Although Judd writes about the function of musical examples in
Renaissance theory treatises, the multiple modes of engagement she cites are especially relevant
to this study; in these cases, the notation is read rather than performed from, and the reading
functions on multiple levels:
There are times when notation serves a purely iconic function – we are meant to
see notation, but not hear it. At other times, the notation serves as a generalized
reminder of music as sounding phenomenon, and at other times, the notation is
meant to be ‘read’ and ‘heard,’ although the reading and hearing may take many
forms.
13

While purchasers of a book of Gabrieli's intabulations could have simply played the music at the
keyboard, they also could have read the book, imagining the sound of a performance executed by

12
Judd, Reading, 8.
13
Judd, Reading, 8. See Newcomb, "Notions," for another take on Judd's treatment of "silent reading" of music.
Newcomb, "Notions," 6-7.
222
themselves, or – better yet – by Gabrieli himself. In this sense the examples refer to playing but
don't depend upon the actual sound of a performance to function. An analogy can be drawn with
early modern attempts to represent reality in stylized form, as in the dialogues published by
Venetian literati.
14
In these, the reader is invited to participate in a quasi-fictionalized experience,
facilitated by the medium and technology of print.
Thinking of IKT volumes in these terms highlights their role as material objects. In
Reading Renaissance Music Theory, Judd describes how it is ultimately the user who has control
over how he or she wished to engage with a musical text. It is needlessly reductive to limit
cinquecento keyboard prints to the function of solo performance; scholars have perhaps too often
fallen into the trap of allowing a primary function of a given print to become its defining one.
15

The idea of early modern prints having multiple modes of engagement is also echoed by the
flexible nature of their performance practices. Without getting into the debate over what
constitutes a musical “work” (and when pieces become works), it is safe to state that any given
piece of music in the sixteenth century was subjected to a variety of performance mediums and
to substantial alteration – including, but not limited to, formal reworkings, restructuring of
polyphony on local levels, alteration of ornamentation, and the like – creating a wide variety of
possible versions of any given piece. In fact, the multiple levels of mimetic functioning in IKT
precisely invite the multifarious levels of engagement described here.

14
The most famous of these is Antonfrancesco Doni’s Dialogo della musica (1544); see edition by G.F. Malipiero
(Venice: Fondazaione Giorgio Cini, 1965). The notion of stylized dialogue as a vehicle for a type of self-fashioning
is key to Martha Feldman’s study of the Venetian madrigal; see Martha Feldman, City Culture and the Madrigal at
Venice (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1995). See especially her introductory discussion
of Doni’s Dialogo, 18-21, for an example of the literary dialogue “as a vehicle for self-display and self-fashioning.”
See ibid., 21.
15
In his recent study, for example, Anthony Newcomb argues for a uniquely “complete and prescriptive” quality to
certain partitura versions of artificioso compositions, namely ricercars. See Newcomb, “Notions,” 6. At the same
time, these scores – even if intended by their creators to be received in this matter – could easily be played by a
keyboardist and turned into a version quite removed from the version in score, through the addition of
ornamentation and through the algorithmic application of IKT conventions.
223

Authorial Self-Fashioning in Intabulations: Some Social Conditions
If I am inviting the reader to consider books of keyboard intabulations as material objects, it
seems logical to ask about their users, and, by extension, the relationship between users and
author. The question of readership is an important one for the present model, and my argument
hinges upon the notion that intabulators willfully included notational detail not because it added
anything of value to players of the intabulations, but because it was meaningful on some level to
readers of the print. This, of course, invites questions about the readership: who were the buyers
of these prints? How were they used (or intended to be used) by these buyers? While the larger
European book market might be the initial place one thinks of when considering printed volumes
of keyboard music in the sixteenth century, printed volumes might also have been designed with
local contexts in mind. That is, local social environments – in this case, the salons and academies
in Venice – in which keyboardist-composers such as Andrea Gabrieli and Claudio Merulo
flourished may very have been just as much an influence on musical style as market
considerations.
Establishing local contexts – including the important links between keyboardists in
Venice and their patrons and audiences – is a necessary condition for establishing a case of
musical self-fashioning through the practice of intabulation. The term “self-fashioning” was
coined by Stephen Greenblatt in his now classic text Renaissance Self-Fashioning (1980).
16

Greenblatt, using a series of case studies from sixteenth-century English literature, pointed to the
fashioning of public persona through texts. Although Greenblatt's theory was grounded in a
narrow framework shaped by the particular contexts in which his literary figures worked, the

16
Greenblatt, Self-Fashioning from More to Shakespeare (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980).
224
general parameters are easily applicable to other areas, leading to several other interdisciplinary
studies in fields such as art history and musicology. While Greenblatt framed his disparate cases
of self-fashioning under a series of conditions, these can be boiled down to interactions between
the subject and an “authority” and an “alien.”
17
Many of the studies that have followed him have
taken the concept of self-fashioning more generally, as a broad concept rather than fully formed
theory, following the spirit of Greenblatt’s initial definition rather than the precise parameters he
subsequently establishes.
Several recent musicological studies focusing on early modern Europe have worked with
versions of self-fashioning theory, with varying degrees of adherence to Greenblatt’s original
parameters. To cite four: Naomi Barker examines a sort of “corporate” self-fashioning among
members of the Roman Accademia dei Lincei as a driving force behind Fabio Colonna’s treatise
La Sambuca Lincea ovvero dell’istromento musico perfetto; Susan McClary suggested that
sixteenth-century madrigal composers exploited aspects of modal theory in order to depict
“interiority”; Richard Wistreich examines self-fashioning in the biography of the Neapolitan bass
singer Giulio Cesare Brancaccio; and Kristen Gibson suggests that John Dowland’s famous
melancholic personality was an element of authorial self-fashioning.
18
Examining these four
studies, a few common characteristics can be observed. For example, the elements of self-
fashioning – from the external forces to which the subject reacts, to the means and methods of
the constructing of persona – depend on the precise social and cultural contexts of the subject. In

17
In a general sense Greenblatt’s theory could be described as constituting several basic elements, all of which work
to apply more generally to diverse scenarios: self-fashioning as situated squarely within the interplay between an
authority and self-autonomy; a thin line between literature and real life; and self-fashioning as a strategy in social
mobility. See Greenblatt, Self-Fashioning, 9.
18
Barker, "Music, Antiquity and Self-Fashioning”; Susan McClary, Modal Subjectivities: Self-Fashioning in the
Italian Madrigal (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2004); Richard Wistreich, Warrior, Courtier, Singer:
Giulio Cesare Brancaccio and the Performance of Identity in the Late Renaissance (Aldershot and Burlington, VT:
Ashgate Publishing, 2007); Kirsten Gibson, "'How Hard an Enterprise it is': Authorial Self-Fashioning in John
Dowland's Printed Books,” Early Music History 26 (2007): 43-89.
225
turn, the methodology of the scholarship is molded to these parameters. For example, for Susan
McClary much of the self-fashioning is accomplished through musical style and the
manipulation of modal theory; in Wistreich’s study, court-driven self-fashioning is used to
marry, in a sense, disparate elements of Brancaccio’s biography: Brancaccio the warrior and
Brancaccio the singer. The medium through which the self-fashioning is accomplished also
varies – for example, through musical compositions, in the case of McClary's study, and in title
pages, dedications, and prefaces, in the case of Gibson’s. In addition, the application of self-
fashioning in these studies varies from being quite precise in its adherence to Greenblatt’s
theory, or as a more flexible and loosely-applied concept. For example, Barker uses Greenblatt’s
framing pillars of “alien” and “authority,” whereas Wistreich only uses the concept generally, as
a way to explain how Brancaccio constructs his public persona.
My own application of self-fashioning theory tends towards a broad application. I don’t
necessarily have reason to adopt Greenblatt’s “alien” and “authority” framework, for example,
nor his conditions that reflect sixteenth-century English power structures, but in order to provide
some coherence I will describe the process of self-fashioning as a series of conditions. I here
extrapolate these from Kristen Gibson’s Dowland study – as Gibson’s application of “authorial
self-fashioning” and the concept of “self-monumentalizing” reflects the central argument here
that intabulator became author – but they would apply easily to the other studies just cited:
• Motive: the subjective, conscious impulses which drive the desire to self-fashion; in the case of
John Dowland, this would be to gain economic or cultural capital in his immediate social
environment.
• Means: the social conditions that allow for self-fashioning; in the case of Dowland, social and
political conditions in sixteenth-century England allowed for the possible social advancement
226
of middle- and lower-class men, and music was a possible vehicle for this advancement. (We
will see that Venice presents a relatively similar situation.)
• Environment: the immediate, local social context to which the processes of self-fashioning are
shaped; in Dowland's case, this would be the English royal court and the networks of patronage
that extended from it. Although there are many commonalities throughout sixteenth-century
Europe, local cultural, social, and even political differences have to be taken into account.
19

• Authorship: the self-identification of the subject as an author, and the desire to exert control
over their public persona or image through his or her published work. Gibson is influenced by
Foucault's notion of author, and by what Gibson, after Joseph Lowenstein, cites as the
development of the "bibliographic ego."
20
This entails the subjective identification with being
an author, and a proprietary relationship with a work.
• Medium: the technology that is exploited in order to accomplish the self-fashioning. In the case
of Dowland, Gibson draws a careful study between print and manuscript dissemination, and, in
a broader sense, commonalities and disjunctions between print and manuscript cultures.
21

19
In Dowland's case, the restrictive "absolutist" environment at the Tudor court influenced particularities in the
functioning of his self-fashioning, as it limited possible avenues of behavior. See Gibson, “How Hard an
Enterprise,” 70-72.
In many respects Castiglione's Il cortegiano can be seen as a locus for the general mentality behind early-
modern self-fashioning, in that it presents a quasi-codified manual through which a subject constructs a persona
based on standards of courtly behavior. See Greenblatt, Self-Fashioning, 162-3, on how Castiglione’s book can be
seen as “the greatest and most familiar” of manuals that serve as “practical guides for a society whose members are
always on stage.” Wistreich points out that “the minutiae of conversations and incidents from Il libro del cortegiano
can be found reverberating throughout the narrative discourses of ‘actual’ noble men and women, including
Brancacio.” Wistreich, Warrior, 234-5.
20
Gibson, "How Hard an Enterprise," 51. The phrase "bibliographic ego" was coined by Joseph Lowenstein; see
Jeremy Smith, “From 'Rights to Copy' to the 'Bibliographic Ego': A New Look at the Last Early Edition of Byrd's
'Psalms, Sonets & Songs.'" Music & Letters 80 (1999): 527n72.
21
Gibson, "How Hard an Enterprise," 52-58.

227
Self-Fashioning Organists in Cinquecento Venice
The locus of the present study is Venice, as both Andrea Gabrieli and Claudio Merulo (whose
music forms the focus of this study) spent the majority of their careers working in its state
basilica, directly under the control of its procurators, and exploited its networks of artistic
patronage.
22
I should note that Merulo’s books of intabulated canzonas – all but one published
posthumously – were dedicated to figures associated with the Farnese court, where Merulo ended
his career and life. However, Merulo’s project of intabulation, crucial to the identification of
intabulator as author (see below), was conceived while he was at San Marco; as Rebecca
Edwards shows, Merulo’s ties in Venice with humanist academies, print shops, and patrons in
Venice were extensive.
23
Almost all major keyboard figures in Northern Italy in the sixteenth
century had strong associations with Venice, due to its prominence as a center of artistic
patronage, keyboard activity, and political importance.
24

22
This is definitely the case for Merulo; quite possibly the case for Andrea.
23
See Rebecca Edwards, "Claudio Merlo: Servant of the State and Musical Entrepreneur in later Sixteenth Century
Venice" (PhD diss., Princeton University, 1990). Merulo’s networks of patronage, which, given the nature of
Venetian patronage at the time, entailed close involvement with humanist circles, forms a major theme in Edwards’
study. See especially Chapters 3 and 4, 159-266.
24
Venice’s somewhat unique systems of patronage have frequently been the subject of scholarship; in particular,
Martha Feldman’s Madrigal in Venice and the chapters on Zarlino in Cristle Collins Judd’s Reading Renaissance
Music Theory: Hearing with the Eyes establish important models for present approaches. Martha Feldman's seminal
The Madrigal in Venice demonstrated how composers in Venice, like their literary counterparts, worked with print
mediums to fashion their public images within the complex networks of patronage in the Republic. See Feldman,
City Culture, especially the first part, 3-119.
For literati, this included the exploitation of stylized dialogic genres that depicted fictionalized salon
gatherings, or published letters that engage in "dialogue" with already-published volumes. In many ways these
present analogues to the musical strategies used in the intabulations examined in this chapter. See ibid, 47-82.
Cristle Collins Judd's two chapters on Gioseffo Zarlino in Reading Renaissance Music Theory: Hearing
with the Eyes provide another case study for self-fashioning. Zarlino also used the medium of print to carefully craft
a public image, and his self-fashioning was also tailored to the same socio-cultural centers and conditions that I
argue for here. Judd's examination of the many signs in Zarlino's prints that suggest self-fashioning provide a model
of sorts for the present study; in addition, the modes of "silent" notational engagement that are encompassed by
Judd's phrase "hearing with the eyes" implies a model for visual engagement of keyboard prints that goes beyond
simple seeing them as exclusively intended for performance. This latter point is key for my argument that composer-
intabulators could exploit aspects of typography and IKT functioning to fashion musical realities in the minds of
their listeners.
See Judd, Reading Renaissance Music Theory, 179-261.

228
As Andrea Gabrieli and Claudio Merulo’s keyboard intabulations are the ultimate focus
of this study, an exploration of the biographical material of these composers is essential.
Unfortunately, complete biographical pictures are lacking, particularly in the case of Andrea
Gabrieli; the situation is somewhat better for Merulo, largely thanks to the important study of
Rebecca Edwards.
25
In place of full biographical data for these two specific figures, I instead use
biographical data from keyboardists who proceeded Merulo and Gabrieli to establish common
social conditions. While precise data is scant for these figures as well, enough data exists to
establish some general patterns. As a framing mechanism, I will present this data in the
categories of self-fashioning conditions established above.

Conditions for Self-Fashioning: Means
As a center of patronage, Venice was in many respects unlike any other European center.
Beyond the ubiquitous "myth of Venice" – a frequent trope in secondary literature on society and
culture in the Republic – many scholars have pointed to the unique nature of Venetian
patronage.
26
Rather than a centralized system involving a single court or patron, Venice instead
was made up of a network of competing patrons.
27
This created a fluid social environment –
perhaps considerably more fluid than other Italian centers – in which social mobility was a real
possibility, especially for those who could capitalize on skills such as writing or music. The
element of social and economic mobility was a major component to Greenblatt's theory of self-

25
Rebecca Edwards, "Claudio Merlo: Servant of the State.”
26
The "myth of Venice" has been an established trope in secondary literature on la Serennissima for some time. For
a succinct overview of music's quasi-propagandistic role in supporting Venetian civic mythology, see Ellen Rosand,
"Music in the Myth of Venice." Renaissance Quarterly 30 (1977): 511-37.
27
See Feldman, City Culture, 3-10 and 51-82 for two specific case studies of Venetian patronage.

229
fashioning,
28
and, despite the lack of precise biographical detail regarding John Dowland, Gibson
suggests a similar element of mobility. Dowland had a "socially limited, yet aspirational
position"; his musical talents conceivably allowed him to climb the social hierarchy.
29
Similarly,
a broad survey of cinquecento organists' biographies reveals a similar pattern: organists typically
come from the mercantile or bourgeois classes but could use their musical talents as a means to
gain acceptance in aristocratic circles. The biography of the San Marco organist and literato
Girolamo Parabosco aptly demonstrates this potential for mobility: from a lowly bourgeois
background, Parabosco was able to use his literary and musical skills to rise within the networks
of patronage. As Feldman points out, Parabosco's position as First Organist at San Marco
allowed him to hold "a trump card among literary colleagues in the city's populous salons, where
music was a valued commodity."
30
Feldman goes on to point out that
His position placed him conveniently betwixt and between – between
professional musicians and literati, between nobles and commoners – a situation
that made good capital in Venetian society.
31

Parabosco was therefore able to use his musical and literary skills to exploit Venice's fluid social
environment for considerable social, cultural, and economic gain.
At the same time, Venice's system of patronage created a highly competitive
environment, in which literati and musicians vied for support among a relatively large number of
possible patrons. In addition, as many commentators have pointed out, Venice was paradoxically
a highly restricted social environment, especially for a city lacking many of the traditional court
structures found in other Italian city-states.
32
This led to a highly risky yet potentially rewarding

28
As pointed out by Gibson, see "How Hard an Enterprise," 59; Greenblatt, Renaissance Self-Fashioning, 7.
29
Gibson, "How Hard an Enterprise," 60.
30
Feldman, City Culture, 16-17. For more on Parabosco, see H. Colin Slim. "Parabosco, Girolamo" Grove Music
Online. Oxford Music Online, accessed August 3,
2017, http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.libproxy2.usc.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/20862.
31
Feldman, City Culture, 17.
32
Feldman; City Culture, 10.
230
environment in which the constant performance of self as a public persona was of utmost
importance. As Martha Feldman notes, Venetian literature in the cinquecento was shaped by a
heightened awareness of "high" and "low" stylistic categories (exemplified by the literary theory
of Pietro Bembo), and Venetian literati exploited the boundaries between these categories in a
constant attempt to fashion personas in the competitive environments of the Venetian salons.
33

Feldman describes how, in doing so, Venetian writers used "dialogic" genres – from fictionalized
gatherings such as Doni's Dialogo, to dedications and published letters (such as the letters of
Pietro Aretino) – fusing Petrarchan tropes, techniques from Classical rhetoric, and print
technology in an attempt to fashion identities.
34
In general cinquecento Venice offered a social
environment that was ideal for the type of performative presentation of self that I suggest is
reflected in the printed intabulations of Gabrieli and Merulo.

Conditions for Self-Fashioning: Audience
Venice's network of patrons formed a musically literate readership that would be receptive to the
degree of notational nuance that I argue for in printed intabulations. I also presuppose personal
relationships between keyboardists and their patrons, relationships that hinge upon an
appreciation of the musical skills – both in performance and in musical knowledge – of the
keyboardist. While detailed accounts of keyboard performances in private salons don’t exist,
there is enough evidence to easily suggest that they took place.
35
San Marco's organists – who
were typically counted among the most highly-valued musicians of Venice – demonstrate links

33
See Feldman, City Culture, 51-62, for an account of Parabosco playing within these categories in dedications
written for his patron Gottardo Occagna. In doing so, Parabosco not only exploits and transgresses stylistic
boundaries, but draws his patron into the “dialogue” as part of the process.
34
Ibid., 47-82.
35
Eleanor Selfridge-Field, citing Molmenti, mentions private concerts at the Cà Zantani that included the San Marco
organists Annibale Padovano, Girolamo Parabosco, and Claudio Merulo; see Eleanor Selfridge-Field, Venetian
Instrumental Music (New York and Washington: Praeger Publishers, 1975), 49-50.
231
with key patrons in Venice, and the evidence certainly suggests that these organists can be linked
to academies and other social circles. For example, interlocutors in Anton Francesco Doni's
Dialogo della musica (1544) include two keyboardists, the San Marco organist Girolamo
Parabosco, and the piacentino keyboardist Claudio Veggio (whose ricercars were examined in
Chapter 2). Their inclusion demonstrates the links between social spaces like the one represented
in the Dialogo and cinquecento keyboardists; it also demonstrates the exceedingly high status
that keyboardists held within these spaces.
36

The discussions portrayed in Doni's Dialogo also demonstrate the high level of musical
literacy among aristocratic circles in the city, and I suggest that these circles can be aligned with
a recently identified class of early modern readership, one that is highly relevant for the present
argument. In a recent article, Anthony Newcomb points to the increasing use of scores
(partiture) for artificioso works as indicative of an intellectual subculture that came to value a
sort of abstract complexity in music; in another recent study, Naomi Barker associates what
seems to be the same subculture with what she calls musica erudita.
37
Both Barker and
Newcomb point to a specific reading public – found in the humanist-intellectual academies in the
early modern period – that valued complex works like ricercars precisely for their esoteric,
artificioso qualities. While Barker and Newcomb’s studies are both focused on a sort of Roman-
Neapolitan axis (or, for Newcomb, a Ferrarese-Roman-Neapolitan axis), I would like to suggest

36
Antonfrancesco Doni, Dialogo della musica. For a study on specific figures represented in the dialogue, see James
Haar, "Notes on the 'Dialogo della Musica' of Antonfrancesco Doni" Music & Letters 47 (1966): 198-224.
37
For Newcomb, certain printed scores held an authoritative concept of "work" that challenges traditional views of
early notation; these were intended to present complex artificioso works such as ricercars in a form for reading and
study. Rather than a modern version of score reading in which the reader uses the score to visualize and comprehend
the entire work at once, Newcomb suggests that early-modern score reading, at least in this case, may have been
grounded in appreciating specific "notational relationships" and instances of artifice and complexity. Or, as he puts
it, for "the ability to recognize and appreciate unusual examples of musical artifice in the notation on the page."
Newcomb, "Notions of Notation," 7.

232
that some elite aristocratic circles in Venice may have formed a similar subset with a similar set
of aesthetic and intellectual values. For example, slightly earlier in the century Venetian
academies had provided fertile ground for the knotty, dense polyphonic style of Adrian Willaert
– with its heightened level of attention to text setting and its possible use of esoteric musical
citations – as well as for the bold chromatic experimentation of Willaert’s successor Rore.
38
It is
notable that two of the earliest printed partiture – the notational format that forms the nucleus of
Newcomb’s study – came from the presses of Gardano and suggest Venetian musical
connections; significantly they are designated for lute and keyboardists, and for “studiosi” of
counterpoint, respectively.
39
In addition, although Newcomb seems to set the Venetian keyboard
school apart as being “less contrapuntally rigorous and artificiosi”
40
than its Roman-Neapolitan
cousins, he also admits that IKT hid polyphonic detail by its nature (that is, through its
algorithmic alteration of polyphony) – therefore, some Venetian ricercars are more
contrapuntally complex than they appear to be on the page.
41
It is notable that Diruta’s famous
account of Andrea Gabrieli and Claudio Merulo's organ “duel” in San Marco (cited in full
below) describes their playing as “artificioso.”
42

38
See Feldman, Madrigal in Venice.
39
Cipriano de Rore, Tutti i madrigali di Cipriano di Rore, a quattro voci (Venice: Gardano, 1577). Angelo Gardano,
ed., Musica de diversi autori. la bataglia francese et canzon delli ucelli insieme alcune francese, partite in caselle
per sonar d'instromento perfetto: novamente ristampate (Venice: Angelo Gardano, 1577, facsimile reprint Bologna:
Forni Editrice, 1971).
40
Newcomb, “Notions,” 17.
41
In addition, certain Venetian ricercars belie this assertion: see Padovano’s Ricercar del sesto tono (1556) or
Gabrieli’s Ricercar del primo tono (1605), which feature extensive rhythmic modification of their single subjects
through contrapuntal devices such as augmentation, diminution, and fragmentation; as Rebecca Edwards points out,
Merulo was one of the first composers to compose ricercars with four subjects, a genre that was taken up by the
composers of the Ferrarese-Roman-Neapolitan school that were discussed by Newcomb. See Rebecca Edwards,
“"Merulo [Merlotti, Merulus], Claudio," Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online, accessed on June 13, 2018.
http:////www.oxfordmusiconline.com/grovemusic/view/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.001.0001/omo-
9781561592630-e-0000040699.
42
As I will attempt to prove shortly, intabulations of vocal music display a type of artificioso composition of their
own.
233
Conditions for Self-Fashioning: M ot i v e
As Newcomb suggests, social-intellectual environments in the musica erudita encouraged the
composition of complex, artificioso keyboard music. These environments – with limited sets of
interests and aesthetic values – would have suggested a very particular pathway for advancement
for the ambitious keyboardist-composer. Specifically, a heightened emphasis on a perceived
intellectualism, with a musical emphasis on artifice and complexity, would have encouraged
keyboardists to adopt a stance of learnedness in their compositions. That is, not only would
organists taking part in Venetian salons have self-fashioned or crafted personas to gain economic
and cultural capital, the particular strategies used for advancement would have been molded to
the interests of a highly intellectual environment that valued and promoted a culture of
learnedness. Their strategies of self-fashioning would lead them to aspire to not only being
merely good players, but to being well-rounded musici as well.
43

The high value placed on keyboard playing in sixteenth-century Italy is well known:
perhaps one of the best-known examples of this is the account of Giulio Segni halting a political
discussion at the Vatican through his playing, in a mode that echoes the famous account of the
lutenist Francesco da Milano performing for a group of Milanese noblemen.
44
And, the status of
organists was of particular importance in Venice, due to the unique musical establishment at San
Marco and the prominent role that organists held there. The Capella Marciana itself was used as
a means of propaganda, as Rebecca Edwards notes; due to the prominence of the organ and its
players in the Capella, it is easy to tie organists directly to the propaganda associated with the

43
A similar point is made by Victor Coelho regarding the role of intabulations in "elevating" the status of lute
players; see Coelho, "Revisiting," 49.
44
H. Colin Slim, "Francesco da Milano (1497-1543/44): A Bio-Bibliographic Study: 1" Musica Disciplina 18
(1964): 63-84; see esp. 79-80.

234
"myth of Venice."
45
As Randall E. Goldberg points out, the fictionalized dialogue that forms the
bulk of Diruta's treatise Il Transilvano conveniently happens to begin on Ascension Day, a major
event in Venetian civic mythology, and can be easily read within the lens of propaganda.
46
At the
end of the Prima Parte of his treatise, Diruta explicitly links this Venetian propaganda, citing the
"renowned church of San Marco," with an account of a dueling Merulo and Gabrieli:
Searching through the different towns, I came at last to this most serene city of
Venice. Hearing in the renowned church of San Marco a contest of two organs
being played antiphonally with so much ingenuity and elegance, I was
transported beyond myself. Eager to meet these two champions, I stopped at the
door where I saw Claudio Merulo and Andrea Gabrieli coming out. Both were
organists of San Marco. Having devoted myself to them, I decided to emulate
them, especially Signor Claudio.
47

Despite the rising fame of organists in sixteenth-century Italy, however, the old medieval
attitude that viewed players of instruments as at the bottom of the hierarchy persisted. Shades of
this attitude are clearly seen in Galileo’s famous statement on organists in his Dialogo (1584):
Those like Annibale Padovano who have known how to play and write well are
very few in comparison to the total number of keyboard players. In all of Italy,
where the number is greater than in any other part of the world, I do not believe
in any way they exceed four in number. Among them I would count Claudio da
Coreggio, Giuseppe Guami, and Luzzascho Luzzaschi. Who the fourth is I shall
declare another time. The reason why these satisfy with both the pen and their
playing is this. They first had many, many years under the discipline of the first
men of the world in that profession and had many opportunities. They have seen

45
Rebecca Edwards writes, "The emphasis on prestige and expansion during the course of the sixteenth century has
been previously noted by students of San Marco, and it has become increasingly clear that Capella Marciana was
seen and used as a tool for state propaganda." Rebecca Edwards, "Claudio Merlo: Servant of the State,” 29.
Edwards also points to the role of organ playing – both in duets, solos, and with other instruments – for
large-scale civic ceremonial events, such as the state visit of King Henry III of France. Ibid., 228-9.
46
Goldberg points out that Zarlino's Dimostrationi harmoniche also begins with a good dose of Venetian civic
mythology. Randall E. Goldberg, "Where Nature and Art Adjoin: Investigations into the Zarlino-Galilei Dispute,
Including an Annotated Translation of Vincenzo Galilei's Discorso intorno all'opere di Messer Zarlino" (PhD diss.,
Indiana University, 2011), 50-51.
47
“..cercando diversi Paesi, finalmente venni in questa Illustrissima Città di Venetia, & sentendo nel famosißimo
Tempio di San Marco un duello di due Organi rispondersi con tanto artificio, e leggiardria, che quali uscii fuor di me
stesso, & bramoso di conoscere quei due gran campioni, mi fermai alla porta, dove viddi comparir Claudio Merulo,
& Andrea Gabrieli, ambedua Organisti di San Marco, à quali dedicato me stesso, mi diedi à seguitarli, & in
particolare il Signor Claudio..” Diruta, Transilvano, translation by Bradshaw, Transilvano, 1:105.

235
and diligently examined all the good music of the famous contrapuntists,
acquiring by this means a very refined and exquisite counterpoint. They studied
that instrument all the time with greater diligence and assiduity than one can
imagine and continue to study and learn. They have been in many parts of the
world and worked with many different worthy men of their profession. They
have been gifted by nature with a most beautiful genius, fine judgment,
felicitous memory, and a forceful and graceful disposition of the hands. They
have had the opportunity – deservedly – to serve grand and very rich princes
who were not only musically knowledgeable and tasteful but also most
generous. You know how important this stimulus is to noble and talented
minds.
48

Galilei declares that the number of organists who “play and write well are very few in
comparison to the total number of keyboard players”; in other words, while keyboardists in Italy
were apparently a dime a dozen, it is clear that the truly learned ones – the mark of which was,
for Galilei, the ability to compose well – were few. In addition, Galilei appeals to a dedication to
both musical learnedness (“they have seen and diligently examined all the good music of the
famous contrapuntists”…. and that they “continue to study and learn”), and to an influence from
nobility (the opportunity to serve “grand and very rich princes.”) An aspiration or appeal to noble
behavior would have, of course, been a common strategy in early modern self-fashioning.
49

Unsurprisingly, biographical details of keyboard-composers reveal a common aspiration
to be more than "mere" organists. Marco Antonio Cavazzoni's apparent participation in the
Spataro correspondence indicates that he was fully able to contribute to the intellectual
discussions with Spartaro and other theorists such as Pietro Aaron and Giovanni Del Lago.
50
It is
no surprise, therefore, to find that cinquecento keyboardist-composers frequently had ties with

48
Vincenzo Galilei, Dialogue on Ancient and Modern Music, translated with an introduction and notes by Claude
Palisca (New Haven & London: Yale University Press, 2003), 343.
49
See Wistreich, Warrior, 221-38, for a description of the function of noble behavior – described through the word
“honor” – as a necessary performative behavior in sixteenth-century courtly society.
50
Cavazzoni was a recipient of two letters, from the theorist Gioavnni Spataro, collected in the volume. According
to references in the extant letters, there were at least three letters written by Cavazzoni, now lost. See Bonnie J.
Blackburn, Edward E. Lowinsky, and Clement A. Miller, ed., A Correspondence of Renaissance Musicians (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 199), xx-xxi.

236
academies, literati, and intellectual spaces, both in Venice and in other Italian centers. For
example, Cavazzoni was in the service of Pietro Bembo, who surely provided the composer
access to a wider network of intellectuals, humanists, and figures in literature and the visual arts;
as Giulio Ongaro shows, Cavazzoni's connections earned him considerable wealth and prestige.
51

The San Marco organist Giulio Segni had ties with painters and writers including Aretino;
Warren Kirkendale also suggests that ties with Bembo may have helped Segni obtain his San
Marco position.
52
Ties between Bembo and organists extend even further. Girolamo Cavazzoni,
Marco Antonio Cavazzoni's son, dedicated his 1543 volume of Recerchari to the great
humanist.
53
And, as already mentioned, Martha Feldman demonstrates that Girolamo Parabosco
– a colorful figure if there ever was one – was also an active member of the network of literati
who vied for patronage among the Venetian salons, therefore flourishing in traditional musical
establishments: namely, as First Organist of San Marco and as a freelancer in the salons. In fact,
Parabosco arguably encapsulates the link between keyboard playing and Venetian intellectual
spaces.
54

Conditions of Self-Fashioning: Medium
Self-fashioning in the Renaissance can be situated within the center of a collision between the
new technology (and subsequent cultural shifts) associated with print on the one hand, and pre-
existing cultures of manuscript production and dissemination on the other. Rather than a case of

51
Giulio Ongaro, "Sixteenth-Century Patronage at St Mark's, Venice." Early Music History 8 (1988): see esp. 97;
108.
52
Warren Kirkendale, “Ciceronians versus Aristotelians on the Ricercar as Exordium, from Bembo to Bach.”
Journal of the American Musicological Society 32 (1979): 18.
53
Ibid.
54
See Feldman, City Culture, 16-21, and 85-87, for more on connections between Parabosco and Venetian literary
sources.

237
the former simply supplanting the latter, print and manuscript cultures uneasily occupied shared
functional spaces throughout the sixteenth century. The research of Stanley Boorman, for
example, has demonstrated that there was significant overlap in the way that prints and
manuscripts were both produced and used.
55
At the same time, of course, many of the obvious
differences between the two – particularly with regard to dissemination and reception – were
immediately felt.
In the case of print, one may well assume that the myriad decisions related to creating,
assembling, and printing volumes of music were primarily driven by market considerations.
However, this may not always be the case. It must be remembered that printing technology was a
recent phenomenon, and that volumes were often prepared by their creators – and, by extension,
received and used – as if they were manuscripts rather than as mass-produced commodities.
56
In
the case of Venice, Jane Bernstein points out that academies typically purchased printed volumes
for their membership; there were often close relationships between printing houses and Venetian
academies.
57
These personal relationships, forming a network of social connections that included
composers and keyboardists as well, suggest a reception and use of print that may not have been
far removed from that of manuscripts. In fact, for Venetian publishing houses, international book
fairs and sellers may only represent one context for which volumes were produced; in some
cases local outlets were equally important.
58

55
See, for example, Stanley Boorman, "Printed Music Books of the Italian Renaissance from the Point of View of
Manuscript Study," in Studies in the Printing, 2587-602.
56
The fact that printed volumes were carefully crafted in a manner not at all dissimilar to manuscript preparation is a
point raised frequently in the work of Stanley Boorman; see for example, his essays collected in the volume Studies
in the Printing, Publishing and Performance of Music in 16th Century, cited above; in particular see the essays
"Petrucci's Type-Setters and the Process of Stemmatics," and "Printed Music Books of the Italian Renaissance from
the Point of View of Manuscript Study."
57
Jane Bernstein, Print Culture, 94, 15.
58
Boorman writes, "The Venetian, therefore, was looking for several types of outlet: the artistic and cultural centres
of northern Italy, the patrons and friends of a lesser composer, and a general diffuse international audience."
Boorman, "The Music Publisher's View," 414.
238
Therefore, while the larger European book market might be the initial thing one thinks of
with regard to printed music in the sixteenth century, keyboard volumes might also have been
designed with local contexts in mind. Local social environments, such as the salons and
academies in Venice, in which keyboardist-composers flourished, may have been just as much
an influence on musical style as any market factors. Despite the well-known dissemination of
Venetian keyboard music throughout oltremontani markets and book fairs, localized interactions
– specifically, personal connections between patrons and keyboardists – may have had a more
pressing influence when it came to shaping elements such as compositional choice and musical
style.
59

This point was recently raised by Rebecca Cypess in her study of Biagio Marini’s printed
volumes of string music. Cypess points to the use of family names of patrons as titles of pieces in
Marini’s Affetti musicali (1617), arguing that Marini intended to cite past, private
performances.
60
Despite being in a commercial print that Marini ostensibly created for economic
gain, the titles – and, arguably, specific musical decisions made by the composer – reflect the
influence of Marini's local social environment. In similar fashion, Claudio Merulo's first two
books of intabulated canzoni consist entirely of pieces – in this case, intabulations of the
composer's own instrumental part-book pieces – with titles named after families; Charles

59
The influence of patronage on musical style in sixteenth-century composition is well-established. For example,
Anthony Newcomb points to the sharp contrast between Marenzio's Eighth and Ninth books of madrigals; see
Newcomb, "Notions," 20-21. Specific to intabulations, Polk and Coelho describe the style of a given intabulation –
which again the authors compare to a literary translation – as decided by the "target," or audience. This notion of
"target" could include wider markets as well as the localized environments of specific patrons of academies. See
Polk and Coelho, "Instrumentalists," 215.
60
That is, Marini sought to “record events of the past, to preserve them for posterity and reflection among the people
who took part in them, and to present a public record of them for emulation by others who bought the collection.
Purchasers of Marini's book who were not directly involved in either his concerti or the publication could recreate
Marini's concerti, either by playing the music themselves or by commissioning others to play for them, thus
approximating the original social-musical experience in the company of another set of listeners.” Rebecca Cypess,
Curious and Modern Inventions, 56-57.

239
McDermott suggests that the majority of these names refer to either families in Parma or
"courtesans at the Farnese palace" (Merulo came from Correggio, an Emilian town, and returned
to the region after his time at San Marco, entering the service of the court in Parma around
1584).
61
I suggest that all of the intabulations examined in this chapter can be seen in a similar
light: on the one hand intended for the commercial market, but on the other hand influenced by
(or even, as in the case of Marini, designed to refer to) specific local social-intellectual
conditions established by a network of patrons who the composer knew personally. And, once
again, this suggests a function for IKT prints that may well have been more manuscript-like,
especially when read within local contexts.
The notion that IKT prints functioned and were received like manuscripts is supported by
the fact that IKT’s notational conventions operate in both print and manuscript sources. As
production techniques in single-impression print and manuscript copying were obviously
diverse, this general similarity in notational conventions is significant; needless to say, many of
the notational details that go into keyboard notation are easier to accomplish by writing by hand
than by single-impression printing.
62
In addition, based on what is known generally with regard
to the production of printed music in the sixteenth century, we have every reason to assume that
publishing houses such as Scotto and Gardano based their keyboard prints on pre-existing
manuscripts, probably prepared by the composer or perhaps someone working in an editorial

61
Charles M. McDermott, “The Canzoni d’Intavolatura d’Organo of Claudio Merulo: A Guide to Improvised
Oranmentation” (Ph.D. diss., University of California, Berkeley, 1979), 138; see also Rebecca Edwards, "Merulo,
Claudio.”
62
As Boncella points out, “Gardano and Vincenti, however, used ties and rests more sparingly than did their Roman
colleague probably because of the greater effort require to indicate these details in movable type, a less flexible
printing method than engraving.” See Paul Anthony Luke Boncella, “The Classical Venetian Organ Toccata (1591-
1604): An ecclesiastical genre shaped by printing technologies and editorial policies” (PhD diss: Rutgers The State
University of New Jersey: 1991), 131.

240
capacity.
63
There is no reason to assume that a publishers such as Gardano would not have had
access to, say, Gabrieli’s manuscripts when preparing his editions.
In general, printing in notational media that are not in standards formats such as part-
books, or Roman chant fonts, seems to have been a highly costly affair.
64
Printing keyboard
music in IKT was a particularly expensive and burdensome enterprise; as Jane Bernstein points
out
Both lute and keyboard editions must have been very expensive to produce. Only three
keyboard editions survive from the period of Antonio Gardano's tenure at the press, and
neither Girolamo Scoto nor his heirs appears to have issued any editions using keyboard
intavolatura.
65

Therefore, the instances in which an intabulator and publisher strive to include notational
detail – detail that may be difficult or burdensome to include with single-impression printing –
are highly important. Every added tie or flipped stem meant a small amount of additional work
for the publisher, and these instances represent a resistance against IKT conventions – its agency
and its algorithmic filtering effect. Notational details that violate IKT convention to show details
of voice leading must be taken as significant. The level of precise detail indicates a certain
refined and exclusive mode of reception – one that was perhaps more akin to how we
traditionally think of manuscripts.
66

63
Bernstein points out that this was standard practice for publishers. See Bernstein, Print Culture, 31.
64
Anthony Newcomb points out that printing scores was very expensive. Newcomb, “Notions of Notation,” 10.
65
Bernstein, Print Culture, 68.
66
Having said that, the reception of written-down keyboard music has to be seen as affected by medium: while I've
already suggested that prints and manuscripts overlapped in many ways, as print technology rapidly took over many
of the traditional functions of manuscript production and dissemination, it seems logical that some manuscripts
could potentially take on an especially elite and rare status. There are some indications of this in the realm of
cinquecento keyboard music, although a clear picture is hard to discern given the relatively scant number of
manuscripts that survive to the present day. One could cite manuscripts such as the Bourdenay Codex and British
Library Ms. Add. 30491, which point to a close-knit and elite fetishization of artifice and complexity – notably the
keyboard music in these manuscripts are, for the most part, in partitura. For more on the Bourdenay Codex
ricercars, see Anthony Newcomb, “The Anonymous Ricercars of the Bourdeney Codex,” in Frescobaldi Studies, ed.
Alexander Silbiger (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1987), 97-123. For a modern edition of the Bourdenay
Codex ricercars, see Giaches Brumel, The Ricercars of the Bourdenay Codex, ed. Anthony Newcomb (Madison,

241

Conditions of Self-Fashioning: Authorship and the Intabulations of Merulo and Gabrieli
Ultimately, however, the act of printing music was, on some level, a public gesture, in that
printed volumes projected the music – and the name – of a composer into a larger public sphere.
However, at the same time the act of printing can be seen as a strategy for advancement within
local networks of patronage in which the composer worked. It is notable that both Andrea
Gabrieli and Claudio Merulo are authors of two large-scale posthumous multiple-volume
publications of keyboard music.
67
In both cases, it appears that the project was initially
conceived during the composer's lifetime and was subsequently overseen by a relative of the
composer after his death. In the case of Andrea, this relative was his famous nephew Giovanni;
in Merulo's case, it was his (eleven-year-old!) grand-nephew Giacinto.
68

Biographical details of both composers suggest that self-fashioning theory may be useful
in explaining the impetus behind these posthumous series. Specifically, it suggests a reading of
both as a form of monumentalizing, of either the composer himself or, in a larger sense, of the
family legacy. In the case of Claudio Merulo – an artist who enjoyed connections with some of
the most prominent literati and humanists in Venice and enjoyed the fruits of an extensive
network of patronage – the reasons for self-fashioning may be much more readily apparent.
69

WI: A-R Editions, 1991). For a facsimile reprint of the British Library manuscript, see Alexander Silbiger, ed.,
London, British Library, ms. Add. 30491 (New York: Garland, 1987).
67
In addition, the printed music of the Paduan composer Sperindio Bertoldo (1591) – also examined in this chapter
– is also posthumous and published in more than one volume. For a facsimile and modern edition, see Sperindio
Bertoldo, Opere per tastiera (Venice 1591), ed. Luigi Collarile (Colledare: Andromeda Edition, 2005).
68
As Merulo’s grandnephew Giacinto would have only been eleven years old at the time of publication of Merulo’s
Libro secondo of canzonas, his precise role in the endeavor must be left open to question. McDermott and
Cunningham speculate that his inclusion was “perhaps an attempt on the part of the publisher to authenticate the
contents of the volumes.” See Claudio Merulo, Canzoni d’intavolatura d’organo, ed. Walker Cunningham and
Charles McDermott (Madison, WI: A-R Editions, 1992), viii.
69
See Edwards, “Merulo Servant of the State.”

242
Rebecca Edwards has shown that Claudio Merulo also received patronage through the web of
intellectual academies in Venice. As Edwards notes, Merulo's career grew from
a network of creative, intellectual and financial contacts which enabled the
composer to benefit from a system of musical patronage whose indistinct lines
of demarcation and overlapping constituencies served to promote the fulfillment
of his practical aims.
70

In fact, Edwards' research suggests that Merulo exploited personal ties with humanistic patrons
and literati even before arriving in Venice in 1555, Merulo is shown to have early associations
with the humanist Antonio Zantani, who held house concerts with prominent Venice-based
musicians such as Parabosco and the San Marco organist Annibale Padovano, in addition to
Merulo.
71

Merulo’s close associations with Venetian humanists, literati, publishers, and patrons not
only reveal the composer’s networks of contacts and his ability to exploit them; in addition, they
surely suggest an aspiration to achieve an equal footing in cultural and intellectual status. It is no
accident that Merulo’s name appears as one of the four organists in the statement by Galilei
quoted above; in fact, Galilei, in another book, derides Zarlino for depicting Merulo in a kind of
quasi-student role in his Discorso. . intorno all’opere di Messer Gioseffo Zarlino:
The most refined Mr. Claudio [Merulo] of Coreggio now occurs to me, and
although he is modesty itself, I cannot believe that he would have heard some of
these simplicities without laughing together with the others whom Zarlino
introduces in his discussions, to whom he has done the greatest wrong by
placing them in the predicament of men who have need of learning through
demonstration the best-known things.
72

70
Ibid., 31. Indeed, Merulo eventually gained the title of "cavaliere," which, as Edwards points out, "placed him on
the same aristocratic level as Zuane da Legge, who had been his patron as Procuratore at San Marco for many
years.” See ibid., 290-91.
71
See Selfridge-Field, Venetian Instrumental Music, 49-50 (cited above). For more on Merulo’s connection with
Zantani, see Edwards, “Merulo,” 214-20.
72
“Mi souuien’hora del gentilissimo Messer Claudio da Coreggio, & quantunque egli sia l’istessa modestia, non
posso credere ch’egli habbia udito alcune di queste semplicità senza ridersene insieme con gl’altri che introduce il
Zarlino ne suoi ragionamenti; ai quali ha fatto un grandissimo torto, con mettergli in predicamento di huomini

243
Galilei’s criticism of Zarlino speaks to Merulo’s learned status: in reality, the composer would
certainly “ridersene insieme con gl’altri” at Zarlino’s simplistic discussion.
73
However, it also
speaks to the danger of Merulo being perceived as somewhat lesser than the others intellectually,
a danger suggested by both Zarlino’s portrayal as well as Galilei’s need to defend the organist
from it. Regardless, Merulo’s social connections paid off in the end: he eventually gained the
title of Cavaliere.
74

In the case of Andrea Gabrieli, however, the reasons are not as clear. In contrast to
Merulo, there is not much evidence for his participation in either literary-intellectual circles or
being active within Venetian patronage networks. In fact, revised biographical details have
corrected a conflation with another figure named Andrea Gabrieli, resulting in a significant and
unfortunate reduction of prestige for the composer.
75
In fact, Gabrieli now stands out for his lack
of connections when compared to the majority of cinquecento organists; rather, he is known for
his prominent role as teacher of instrumental composers (starting with his nephew Giovanni).
76

In contrast to Merulo, Andrea and Giovanni Gabrieli may have used the former's printed
volumes to elevate Andrea’s name after his death, particularly in the hyper-intellectual social
circles already cited. Although Andrea was no longer alive to witness this ongoing process of

c’habbino bisogno d’imparare per dimostratione le cose notissime...” Vincenzo Galilei, Discorso… intorno
all’opera di Messer Gioseffo Zarlino da Chioggia (Florence: Giorgio Marescotti, 1589), 61, accessible on imslp.org:
http://imslp.org/wiki/Discorso_intorno_all'opere_di_messer_Gioseffo_Zarlino_(Galilei%2C_Vincenzo), accessed
on June 13, 2018. Translation by Randall E. Goldberg, “Where Nature and Art,” 53.
73
Ibid.
74
Merulo’s knighthood was granted by Duke Ranuccio Farnese of Parma. See Edwards, “Merulo, Servant of the
State,” 286, 290-91. As Edwards points out, "placed him on the same aristocratic level as Zuane da Legge, who had
been his patron as Procuratore at San Marco for many years.”
75
See Martin Morell, "New Evidence for the Biographies of Andrea and Giovanni Gabrieli,” Early Music History 3
(1983): 101-22. Documents presented by Morell suggest a later birthdate for the composer; in addition, they suggest
that he could not be the Andrea Gabrieli who was the grandson of the humanist Triofone Gabrieli, member of the
Accademia della Fama.
76
David Bryant, "Gabrieli, Andrea" Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online, accessed on June 13, 2018.
http:////www.oxfordmusiconline.com/grovemusic/view/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.001.0001/omo-
9781561592630-e-0000040692.

244
self-fashioning, his nephew Giovanni – long presumed to be the editor behind the project of
publishing his uncle's keyboard music – was.
77

Therefore, it would seem as if the precise motives for self-fashioning between the two
composers are somewhat different, even as in the end the result – that is, the vehicle of the self-
fashioning, their keyboard music – was largely the same. It is especially interesting to note the
parallel between the two projects, both being published largely posthumously and both being
large-scale, multi-volume series. In addition, it has long been suspected that Gabrieli’s volumes
were a reprint of music published during the composer’s lifetime. Even as this has not been
generally accepted as fact, the inclusion of a volume of Gabrieli’s keyboard music in Merulo’s
proposed series (see below) suggests that both composers were surely behind the conception of
these projects, both of which began before the composers’ deaths. In the end, both series were
brought to completion with the involvement of the composer’s families. In fact, in the case of
Gabrieli, it seems as if his nephew Giovanni may have engaged in some self-fashioning of his
own. Giovanni may have published his uncle’s organ music in an attempt to gain income, a need
that Martin Morell has shown was acute,
78
and part of Giovanni Gabrieli’s strategy in bringing
his uncle’s music to light may also have involved engaging in a type of monumentalization of the
family name: using the prints to highlight his uncle’s artificioso playing – combining the skills of
sonare in fantasia, virtuosic playing, musical understanding, and composition – to social circles
with which Andrea may not have had extensive ties with. Highlighting his uncle’s keyboard
music in this manner would help to raise his own name. Giovanni’s famous preface to the 1587
Concerti – in which he praises his uncle’s name and works in an overly effusive manner that

77
See David Bryant, "Gabrieli, Giovanni," Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, accessed on August 5, 2017,
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.libproxy1.usc.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/40693.
78
See Martin Morell, “New Details,” 117-20.

245
almost gives a sense of desperation, and declares himself “little less than a son” to Andrea –
seems to simultaneously elevate and exploit his familiar connection.
79

The Cases of Claudio Merulo and Andrea Gabrieli: Intabulator as Author
Part of the artificioso playing of Andrea Gabrieli and Claudio Merulo surely involved the
performance and arrangement of other composers’ works. It is noteworthy that intabulations
comprise a major part of Gabrieli's series, and a significant part of Merulo's. Merulo's Terzo libro
(1611) is comprised of elaborate intabulations of four vocal chansons, and Gabrieli's Libro
quinto (1605) and Libro sesto (1605) are also dedicated entirely to intabulations of vocal works;
in addition, the Terzo libro de ricercari.. (1596) – primarily made up of Gabrieli's own keyboard
ricercars – includes intabulations of vocal music. While volumes printed earlier in the century
contained either a few intabulations (e.g., the printed volumes of Marcoantonio and Girolamo
Cavazzoni, 1523 and 1543, respectively), or were exclusively dedicated to intabulations of the
composer's own works (e.g. Jacques Buus's 1549 Recerchari), dedicating a print of keyboard
music exclusively to intabulations of another composer's works – with the name of the
intabulator occupying the same space (both literally and figuratively) as composer – was new.
80

I would argue that both Andrea and Merulo demonstrate a role of intabulator as "author."
This can be seen in the language used on the title page of Andrea's books of intabulations; for
example, the title page of the Sesto Libro states: "CANZONI ALLA FRANCESE / PER SONAR
SOPRA ISTROMENTI DA TASTI / Tabulate dall'Eccellentiss. Andrea Gabrieli; Gia Organista

79
Giovanni and Andrea Gabrieli, Concerti di Andrea et di Gio. Gabrieli Organisti… Libro Primo et Secondo
(Venice: Angelo Gardano, 1587). The quote is found in the preface to the Cantus book; accessed on March 1, 2015,
http://ks.imslp.net/files/imglnks/usimg/0/05/IMSLP84142-PMLP171814-Gabrieli_ConcertiBook1_2_Canto.pdf.
80
It is worth noting that the first printed volume of music in IKT, Antico’s Frottole (1517) consists entirely of
intabulations, but here the intabulators are anonymous. Andrea Antico, Frottole intabulate per sonare organi libro
primo (Rome: Antico, 1517; facsimile ed. Bologna: Forni, 1970).
246
in S. Marco in Venetia." The title mentions the status of Gabrieli – typical for a commercial
printed volume of the time, but notable is Gabrieli's authorial identification as "intabulator"
("tabulate dall'Eccellentiss. Andrea Gabrieli.") This is cast into greater relief in the volume
itself. For the identification of the first piece, the composer of the original vocal work is not
included (this, of course, is not at all atypical), but Gabrieli's name is, again highlighted in his
role as intabulator ("Tabulata da Andrea Gabrieli"). (See Example 3.3)
This concept – of intabulator as author – can also be seen in Merulo's large-scale project
(abandoned when the composer gave up his printing enterprise) to publish multiple volumes of
keyboard music. The list of volumes that were to be produced was included in Merulo's 1567
volume of Ricercari (Example 3.4). Again notable is the prominent position of Merulo's
247
intabulations of works of other composers.
81
Merulo highlights his seemingly important role as
intabulator, which is similar to Andrea's role as intabulator on his own title page. While the
series begins with volumes dedicated to Merulo's own works, volumes nine through eleven
appear to consist of ot he r s ’ works intabulated by
Merulo. (Interestingly, the twelfth volume, which would have consisted of ricercars by Andrea
Gabrieli, doesn't mention Merulo in a capacity as intabulator: it seems as if Gabrieli would have
intabulated his own ricercars!) It is within this context that the notion of intabulator-as-author –
demonstrative of the "bibliographic ego" – makes sense.

81
See Edwards, "Merulo, Claudio.”
248

From Sounding Image to Dotta Partitura: A Model for Interpreting Intabulations in IKT
The notion of intabulator-as-author, alongside a concomitant rise in status of keyboard
intabulation, is key for a reading of self-fashioning in cinquecento keyboard music. Although
intabulations have traditionally been viewed as “second-class citizens,” there are many signs
indicating that they constituted an important and sophisticated art in the sixteenth century,
demonstrated by the complexity of the intabulation processes described in treatises such as
Diruta’s and Galilei’s, and by the artfulness and complexity of the intabulations themselves.
Their important status is also demonstrated by the major part they occupy in Gabrieli and
Merulo’s series – again, whole volumes consist entirely of them – and I would argue that their
inclusion indicates not only that they were popular, but that they were important vehicles for
demonstrating the keyboardist’s art and skill. In fact, the notion that IKT itself could be used as a
way to represent the multifarious aspects of the keyboardist’s art is key to the present theory, as
IKT’s tendencies could be exploited to demonstrate musical persona through the very process of
intabulating.
To begin, I would like to return to the notion of an intabulation in IKT as a type of frozen
performance. If intabulations can be potentially viewed in this way, as I suggested earlier, their
users could engage with them in a variety of ways: a user could recreate the performance, in real
time, through playing them; a reader could also recreate the performance in his or her head. A
reader could also view the frozen performance in a more general sense, as well: admiring it as a
kind of object d’art, the signs and symbols of the notation painting a mental image of a more
generalized aesthetic experience of listening.
249
In this sense, intabulations should be thought of as a kind of "sounding image” of a
performance. The term “sounding image” is partly inspired by Cristle Collins Judd's notion of
"hearing through the eyes,"
82
and in a similar vein to Judd's description, IKT could also be "read"
in addition to being "heard." The functioning of IKT intabulations as sounding images depends
on IKT’s conventions, and the roots that these conventions have in playing (see Chapter 1). If
seen as a prescriptive notation, IKT compels the player to mimic the motions of the intabulator-
composer in an act of replication; the instrument on which the player plays replicates the sound
of the initial performance that was frozen onto the tablature. In this sense, an intabulation is a
sonic picture of the performance. IKT’s rules automatically remove extraneous details of
counterpoint and voice leading. These do not add pertinent information to the image of the
performance – they can only be understood visually, through score analysis, not through
listening.
At the same time, as seen in Example 3.1 at the beginning of this chapter, IKT’s use of
mensural notation allows the intabulator the possibility of breaking notational convention to
show voice leading and contrapuntal detail, pushing against the algorithmic action of IKT’s
conventions. If taken to a far enough extreme, these conventions could be broken to the point
where the contour of every individual voice of the model could be clearly seen, through the
alteration of stem directions (which are normally controlled by IKT convention), the addition of
ties, rests, and so on. If this were the case, the tablature would function more like a score, not like
a sounding image. I would like to identify this second, score-like tendency as IKT as dotta
partitura (learned score), which should be seen as forming a dichotomy with the sounding image
tendency. The tendencies of sounding image and dotta partitura can work on a local level – that

82
The phrase is found in Judd’s subtitle (Reading Renaissance Music Theory: Hearing Through The Eyes).
250
is, in individual instances or sections in an intabulation – or globally, defining an entire
intabulation as a general aesthetic tendency.
The functioning of intabulations as sounding images is aptly demonstrated by the musical
examples in Vincenzo Galilei's lute treatise Il Fronimo (1584). Typical for the time, the treatise
takes the form of a Platonic dialogue between student and teacher; the discourse of the two
interlocutors is frequently enlivened with musical examples, which are – appropriately for a
treatise on lute intabulation – usually notated in Italian lute intavolatura. Notable, however, is
the way in which Galilei integrates the examples within the dialogue. At times these examples
are intended to be purely read, to demonstrate technical features of counterpoint or intabulation.
However, at other times they are presented as sounding pieces of music (Example 3.5)
83
: Here
Galilei is attempting to use the intavolatura excerpts as recordings; he needs his reader to play
(or imagine playing) them to complete the process. In his writing he treats them not as scores to
be analyzed, but as sounding objects – or, from a modern perspective, as recordings. (One could
argue that, if Galilei had had access to modern presentation software such as PowerPoint or
Prezi, he might have recorded his examples and embedded them within his text.)
While Galilei's intabulations are musical examples in a treatise, their functioning does not
need to be limited to this context – after all Fronimo is capped off with a mazzetto, or “bouquet”
(as Galilei calls it), of intabulations that do not function as examples. Individual intabulations
found in printed volumes of lute or keyboard music could conceivably be used in a similar

83
The ways in which Galilei's examples function in his treatise match exactly Judd's description; see her analysis of
Morley at the beginning of Reading, 3-10. Galilei’s text reads: “Fr. Vi ringrato sommimente delle lodi, & per non
incorrere in quell commun vizio de musici, incomincerò senza farmi pregare, & faro fine ogni volta ch’io vedrò
divenirvi a fastidio. Eu: A fastidio non mi verrete voi mai, ma cominciate di gratia. Fr. Ponetevi prim su quell sasso
a sedere, dove comodo starete, & gustaretecosi un poco lontano, meglio l’armonia.” “Fr. I thank you in the highest
degree for your praise; and in order not to fall into that common vice of musicians, I will begin without being
begged, and will stop when I see that I am beginning to bore you. Eu. You will never bore me. But please begin. Fr.
First, sit down over there on that stone where you will be comfortable and, being at a little distance, you will enjoy
the harmony better." Translation by MacClintock; Fronimo, 32:
251
fashion. They are pictures of a performance, sounding images that invite the reader to actualize
the performance, or to imagine – literally, to create a mental image of – the actualization of a
performance. The concept of sounding images can be further grounded in a historical context as
well. As Leslie Korrick shows, Galilei makes frequent comparisons with the visual arts in his
various treatises (e.g. "mazzetto" in Fronimo); in addition, Korrick shows that Galilei's aesthetic
stance positions visual arts and music on an equal basis, by putting the sense of sight on equal
footing with that of hearing.
84
A fruitful analogy can be made, therefore, between IKT and other

84
Leslie Korrick, "Lomazzo's Trattato... della pittura and Galilei's Fronimo: Picturing Music and Sounding Images
in 1584,” in Art and Music in the Early Modern Period: Essays in Honor of Franca Trinchieri Camiz, ed. Katherine
McIver (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2003), 193-221.

252
tablature notations and many of the various small-scale graphic art forms published by Venetian
houses throughout the cinquecento, which likewise attempt to depict reality through print
technology.
85

The function of a printed volume of keyboard music as a material objet d'art, and of an
intabulation as a sounding image of a performance, can be observed in the beautifully produced
book of keyboard music by Marco Antonio Cavazzoni, published by Vercelens in Venice in
1523. Example 3.6 shows an excerpt from Cavazzoni's intabulation of an unknown chanson
called Perdonne moi. Cavazzoni's privilege – cited earlier in Chapter 2 – speaks of a "new form
of tablature."
86
On the surface, Cavazzoni's tablature notation does not appear substantially
different from that used by Antico in his book of intabulated frottole of 1517 (the only extant
book in IKT before Cavazzoni's). Playing through both tablatures, however, reveals that much
more attention has been paid to vertical alignment in Cavazzoni's print: the tablature voices in
Antico's print frequently fail to line up, whereas Cavazzoni's do in near-perfect fashion. On the
one hand, this is obviously meant to facilitate playing the tablature; on the other hand, it also
presents a clearer picture of the performance, aiding the reader in the task of mental recreation.
Certain musical features of Cavazzoni's intabulation support the notion that it represents a
sounding image of Cavazzoni's performance of a vocal work. For example, the texture is highly
keyboardistic, suggesting a highly idiomatic adaption. The voice leading in measures 2-3 of the
example only gives a sketch of a full a4 texture; in addition, the contrapuntal 7-6 suspension in
the left hand is implied rather than written out fully. In addition, many of its musical features can

85
See, for example, the print genres explored by Bronwen Wilson in her monograph The World in Venice: Print, the
City and Early Modern Identity (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2005).
86
Richard Agee, “The Venetian Privilege and Music-Printing in the Sixteenth Century.” Early Music History 3
(1983), appendix, no. 10. As Bernstein points out, composers often worked closely in the printing process as a way
of preventing errors; one is tempted to see the added natural sign in the sixth measure of the example – Cavazzoni
otherwise uses dots to signal ficta – as a possible addition (of course, it could easily have been added by a user of the
print as well). See Bernstein, Print Culture, 107.
253
be linked to improvisation; tellingly, many of these (already examined in Chapter 2) are typically
seen in contemporaenous preludial ricercars and liturgical settings. In addition, many specific
figures and gestures are typical to Cavazzoni, suggesting that they may be commonplaces – here
I refer explicitly to the notion of a commonplace book (but in a figurative sense, not a literal
one.)
87
In general, the intabulation reveals a stylistic and compositional affinity with Cavazzoni’s

87
I use the term “commonplace” carefully, given the care with which musicologists have applied the concept to
Renaissance music. By my use of the term, I mean that certain musical figures, such as specific cadence
formulations, may have been “collected” and developed in the mind, and used in performance by improvising
keyboardists. While there be some basis to draw an analogy with humanist commonplace traditions, I do not intend
to draw a specific comparison. For more on Renaissance music and commonplaces, see Peter Schubert, “Musical
Commonplaces in the Renaissance,” in Music Education in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, ed. Russell
Eugene Murray, Susan Forscher Weiss, and Cynthia J. Cyrus (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2010), 161-
92.
254
other keyboard music, suggesting that all are reflections of the composer’s skill in sonare a
fantasia. I would suggest that these improvisational stylistic elements, combined with the
seemingly loose adherence to the model, indicate aural engagement rather than written
engagement with the vocal model, highlighting the skill of the performer over fidelity to musical
structure. In general, intabulations that feature these elements would seem to support their
conception as sounding images, reflective of performance rather than a writing-based,
compositional process.
That these improvisational features can be linked to a generally loose adherence to a
vocal model is supported by another intabulation in the volume, Plus ne regres (based on
Josquin's Plusieurs regretz), as well as by the two intabulations by Marco Antonio's son
Girolamo in his 1543 Intavolatura cioè recercari… Libro primo (no extant model exists for
Perdonne moi). Leon Chisholm's recent analysis of Plus ne regres shows that Cavazzoni only
adheres to the model in the loosest of fashions; as Chisholm puts it
the keyboard arrangement does not adhere to the chanson's structure. Indeed, its
structure suggests that its composition was not so much the result of a careful
study of Josquin's chanson as it was the fruit of aural memories [my emphasis]
that the chanson had left in Marcantonio's ears…. The piece does not seem to
have been produced by transliterating the five parts of the chanson into
intavolatura, perhaps via the intermediary step of a transcription into open
score, the process of intabulation as described in the contemporaneous
Fundamentum of Hans Buchner and, later, in Girolamo Diruta's Il Transilvano.
88

In this, Cavazzoni's intabulations are similar to his son Girolamo's, which are perhaps best
described as imitatio works based on vocal models rather than intabulations, at least as according
to the generic understanding of "intabulation" today.
89
Stylistically speaking, Girolamo's

88
Chisholm, "Mechanization," 28-9.
89
Leon Chisholm seems to challenge this assertion. Chisholm analyzes Plus ne regrez from an experiential
perspective, comparing the sensational experience of singing the chanson as a group of singers to that of playing it

255
intabulations sound somewhat like ricercars; in fact, they only differ from his exercises in the
latter genre in that they are shorter and adopt some of the formal gestures of vocal chansons,
such as an overall ABA form. Again, the stylistic link with ricercars makes sense if we view
these imitatio intabulations as sounding images of largely improvised performances of their
models. While there is no evidence for specific instances of what we might call improvised
"intabulations" – that is, extempore solo instrumental performances based on the "aural
memories" (to use Chisholm's phrase) of vocal compositions – it is certainly easy to imagine that
they took place. In Marco Antonio Cavazzoni's printed volume, large-scale ricercari stand as
preludes for vocal intabulations that immediate succeed them in the same tone; this practice is
also seen in early cinquecento lute books. (One wonders if the famous account of Francesco da
Milano extemporizing for a group of nobles, mentioned earlier, was followed by an improvised
"intabulation.") Recent research on lute music has suggested that a large portion of the "free"
fantasia repertoire may actually be loosely based on vocal models; all of this evidence suggests
that playing vocal works fundamentally and profoundly informed the development of
improvisatory playing skills in other genres.
90

on a keyboard instrument, instead of giving a traditional text-based analysis comparing chanson to model. In
addition, he points out that the lack of adherence to elements of the chanson’s polyphony can be explained if the
process of intabulation is viewed as performance: an improvisation on the aural memories of the chanson. For
example, the few elements that Cavazzoni maintains from his model are those that are easily heard. Nonetheless, it
should be pointed out that, if indeed the result of the aural memories of the chanson rather than a written process of
intabulation, as Chisholm argues, Cavazzoni had a pretty bad memory – when compared to the intabulations of
Gabrieli and Merulo, his intabulation only alludes to his model in the slightest way, whereas the Venetian
intabulations always stick to basic formal and contrapuntal structures, even if surface features are often altered. See
Chisholm, “Mechanization,” 27-38, for his analysis of Plus ne regrez.
Chisholm seems to minimize the differences between Cavazzoni’s loose treatment and the more rigid
adherence to the model seen in the Venetian intabulations, as he goes on to briefly examine Andrea Gabrieli’s
intabulation of Willaert’s chanson “Qui la dira”: “Since Marcantonio's arrangement of Plusieurs regretz is not based
closely on formal aspects of the chanson, it is worth examining the intabulation of another chanson featuring a
canon. Andrea Gabrieli's much later intabulation of the five-voice setting Qui la dira la peine de mon coeur by
Willaert approaches the model as a formal template.” Ibid., 38.
90
This is a growing field of scholarship in lute music. See, for example, Stefano Mengozzi, “Is This Fantasia
Parody? Vocal Models in the Free Compositions of Francesco da Milano,” Journal of the Lute Society of America
23 (1990): 7-17. For a general brief introduction to this field of research see, Coelho, “Revisiting,” 50-51.
256

From Sounding Image to Dotta Partitura: The Issue of Fidelity
While not enough evidence exists to get anything near a complete picture, it is curious that, while
the intabulations of the Cavazzoni tend towards imitatio, intabulations published later in the
century, such as those of Merulo, Gabrieli, and Bertoldo, show much greater fidelity to the
formal structures of their models. This shift positions the "standard" late sixteenth-century
intabulation as moving away from sounding image and towards dotta partitura. In fact, the
typical late sixteenth-century keyboard intabulation has to be described as a mixture of both.
Modifications tend to be more surface-oriented, with the general formal structure of the model –
and the majority of its original polyphony – serving as a scaffolding for passaggi.
This stylistic shift towards fidelity may suggest an increased role for written intabulation
practices and, for that matter, the use of scores in preparing vocal music for instrumental
media.
91
Bertoldo's intabulation of Petite Fleur seen earlier (Example 3.2 above), can be taken
to establish the basic parameters for late-sixteenth century intabulations: it demonstrates fidelity
to the form of the chanson, but there are several isolated surface alterations to the model’s
polyphony – typically to facilitate a keyboardistic texture. As writers such as Leon Chisholm and
Victor Coelho have suggested, traditional analytical approaches towards intabulations have
perhaps relied too heavily on the degree of a given intabulation’s perceived reliance on the
model. A more accurate view may be found in a model such as that described in the Introduction.
In this scenario, the form and skeletal framework of an intabulation would result from reducing

91
Interestingly both Diruta and Galilei imply the use of “preparatory” scores for making intabulations. Diruta’s first
steps in intabulation (discussed already in Chapter 1) involve making a score from part-books. Göllner shows that
preparatory scores were used in lute intabulation, although this practice – and, for that matter, the nature and
notation of the score – was in no way universal. See Marie Louise Göllner, “On the Process of Lute Intabulation in
the 16th Century,” in Ars iocundissima: Festschrift für Kurt Dorfmüller zum 60. Geburtstag, ed. Horst Leuchtmann
and Robert Münster (Tutzing: Hans Schneider, 1984), 83-96.
257
the model's texture. An intabulation may be seen as a series of layers comprised of varying
degrees and types of surface ornamentation; moments of recomposition strongly suggest that
much of the polyphony of the model – particularly the faster-moving notes – was understood to
be part of these surface layers, and subject to recomposition.
92
This collapses the distinction
between “surface” ornamentation and structural changes to the model taken by the intabulator.
While there is not enough extant evidence extant to suggest anything near a complete
picture, it would seem that printed intabulations increasingly demonstrate greater structural
fidelity to their models as the sixteenth century progressed, following a pathway that is parallel
to that of the ricercar, which shifted from the freer, improvisatory preludial ricercar to the stricter
imitative ricercar in which the identity of every voice is maintained throughout. Both
developments suggest the increasing authority of writing music down, and of an aesthetic ideal
of vocal counterpoint. In fact, if we take the intabulations of Marco Antonio and Girolamo
Cavazzoni as evidence for an earlier practice of “ricercar-style” intabulations, it would be seem
that these pieces became their own genre by the end of the century: the imitatio ricercar. This
genre is seen in the published keyboard works of Andrea Gabrieli, in which four pieces whose
titles begin “Ricercar sopra..” immediately follow intabulations of four vocal works: Con lei
foss'io (Libro Sesto, 1605); Martin menoit; Osus au coup; Pour ung plaisir (Libro Quinto, 1605).
It is almost as if Andrea is neatly dividing his art into two categories: intabulations that adhere to
the structure of their model but provide ample surface ornamentation and alteration, and

92
Adding complexity to this theoretical model is the fact that intabulators often worked within the tablature voices –
the "new" voices created by the vertical array of notes on the staves, supported by IKT conventions such as stem
direction and unison practice – rather than the actual voices of the model. The form of the song -- the basic
scaffolding – is adhered to largely because it represents this deepest constructional layer. This theoretical model
suggests that the degree to which an intabulation does or doesn't adhere to the form of its model may be best
described as simply an element of ornamentation, rather than as an absolute.

258
(imitative) ricercars that freely take on the points of imitation and re-work them, as in an imitatio
Mass.
93

In a sense, Gabrieli’s two types of vocally-derived genres – the intabulation that
demonstrates textual fidelity and the "free" ricercar based on material from the model – are
analogous to the two models suggested here: sounding images and dotte partiture. They also
parallel the earlier “free” intabulation type and the textually faithful later intabulation type. The
intabulation-ricercar split would also seem to imply a conceptual distinction between ornamental
approaches to playing vocal music on keyboard and freer, “fantasia"-based approaches. It may be
tempting to tie the former to writing – one can imagine the keyboardist improvising passaggi
over an undecorated IKT score – and the latter to a lack of reliance on writing (the keyboardist
again improvising from "aural memories.") However, there is no reason to assume that a highly-
skilled composer-intabulator such as Andrea Gabrieli or Claudio Merulo – both of whom would
improvise as a daily part of their work as organists – would abandon the practice of playing from
"aural memories" in favor of glossing IKT scores of undecorated intabulations.
The question as to why the formal structure of the model became increasingly important
in printed intabulations is key: the two poles that form the bedrock of the self-fashioning theory
presented in this chapter – intabulations as sounding images vs. intabulations as dotte partiture –
are fundamentally connected to it. Dotte partiture reveal the intabulator breaking IKT
convention to show structure, and sounding images seem to revert back to the older "fantasia"

93
It is striking that Claudio Merulo's printed volume of imitatio Masses contains works based on two chansons –
Lasso's Susanne un jour and Crecquillon's Oncques amour – that Merulo also intabulated for keyboard in his Terzo
Libro. See Claudio Merulo, Missarum quinque vocum.. Libre Primus (Venice: Figl A. Gardano, 1573). As Clericetti
pointed out, Gabrieli's ricercari ad imitatione are stylistically comparable to Masses; one wonders how much
overlap existed between the two genres in the phases of compositional process. See “Martin menoit son porceau au
marché: Due intavolature di Andrea Gabriel,” in Musicus perfectus: Studi in onore di Luigi Ferdinando Tagliavini
'prattico & specolativo' nella ricorrenza del LXV compleanno (Bologna: Pàtron, 1995), 166.
259
style, in which the purpose of the model seems to be, at least from a modern perspective,
inspirational rather than structural.
It would seem that two elements are crucial in explaining the shift: the growing influence
of writing-based practices, and the elevation of the status of intabulations in general. As Polk
and Coelho point out, the role of notation and writing music down occupied a greater influence
on instrumentalists and instrumental music by the end of the sixteenth century.
94
Print had a
profound effect on instrumental practices, and ostensibly manuscript scores and keyboard
tablatures – manifestations of the written art of intabulation – played an increasingly large role in
sixteenth-century instrumental musical culture. This is reflected in the publication of treatises
such as Diruta's Transilvano and Galilei's Fronimo, which depict the art of intabulation as an
entirely writing-based exercise. Notably, these treatises are intended for an amateur audience; at
the same time, as Dinko Fabris notes, Galilei's treatise is not just for the amateurs, but for the
"rari contrappuntisti.”
95
Galilei spends a great deal of his treatise on counterpoint, which he
declares to be of utmost importance for proper intabulation, suggesting an increasing
fetishization of written music and counterpoint at the expense of sonare a fantasia. While on the
one hand this speaks to the link between intabulation instructions and amateurism, on the other it
also reflects the high value intabulations held among the very group of sophisticated amateurs
who were patrons of organist-composers such as Gabrieli and Merulo – amateurs who
considered themselves experts and who prized the polyphonic subtlety of Willaert, and whose
values aligned with those of musica erudita. Perhaps the dotte partiture tendencies potentially
reflect an anxiety over the influence of writing, leading intabulators to try to signal to their

94
Polk and Coelho, Players, 208-9.
95
Dinko Fabris, “Lute Tablature Instructions in Italy: A Survey of the Regole from 1507 to 1759,” in Musical
Theory in the Renaissance, A Library of Essays on Renaissance Music (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2013), 35.
260
readers that they possess an understanding of musical structure and “proper” (i.e. vocal)
counterpoint.
It is also evident that, by the end of the century, intabulations became an increasingly
valued art form. This is again witnessed by treatises such as Diruta's and Galilei’s. In particular,
Galilei's Fronimo demonstrates the elevation of the practice; in general its level of nuance and
detail indicates a “high art” status for intabulations. For example, in discussing his choice to
intabulate old works such as Ferrabosco's Io mi son giovenetta rather than newer ones, Galilei
provides a clear glimpse of intabulation as “high art.” (Slightly unsettling for the uninitiated
reader, Galilei refers to himself here in the third person; his stand-in interlocutor Fronimo
frequently goes out of his way to praise his creator) :
On the contrary; his art was most revealed by the use of those old and easy
canzoni because he intabulated them in such a way that, being heard on man-
made instruments and grateful to the ear, they would be praised for the same
difficulty as that in decking out an old woman of not very graceful features by
means of paint and a rich and beautiful gown; so that, seeing her, the eye would
judge her to be young and beautiful. Therefore Galileo, having wished to show
in his first book his worth in intabulating music for the Lute, felt it was most
suitable to take the pieces that he chose rather than some new and difficult ones
or those composed for many voices by the most excellent composers. And if
time allowed me to discourse at greater length on the subject, I could show you
with the clearest and most vivid reasons that those cantilene, even more than the
others which are held in esteem by judicious and learned musicians, are the
easiest. And I would also make you see that they cannot be otherwise because
the harmonies issuing from notes of a few values, from a small number of parts
and from only a few strings, are alone suitable to express human affections; and
songs which are deprived of these are of little worth.
96

96
Galilei, Fronimo, 47-48, translation by MacClintock, Fronimo, 81: “Anzi è venuto à far conoscere maggiormente
la sua arte col mezzo di quelle canzoni antiche, & facilì, per esser nell’intavolarle di maniera, che udendole poi negli
artificiali istrumenti grate siano all’udito l’istessa difficultà, che sarebbe mediante i belletti, & un ricco, & vago
habito, ornare di maniera una Donna vecchia, & di non molte leggiadre fattezze, che vendenvola poi, giovane e
bella, l’occhio la guidicasse. Talche havendo volute, Il Galileo, mostrare in quell suo primo libro, quanto valesse
cell’intavolar le Musiche nel Luito, fu piu conveniente il tor di quello, che tolie, che delle nuove, & difficili, ò da piu
eccellenti Autori à piu voci Composte, & se le brevità del tempo comportasse che piu allungo sopra questo capo
discorre vi potessi, vi mostrerei con chiarissime & viue ragioni, che quelle cantilena, qual piu dell’altre in pregio, de
giuditoisi e dotti Musici, facilissime sono, & farevi ancor vedere che altramente esser non possono, per esser solo
atte a esprimere gli affetti humani, l’armonie che escono da note di alquanto valore.”
261
In addition, several passages reveal an obsession with notational minutiae. To pick one example:
Galilei describes the process of repeating semibreves (a basic element of intabulating) in the
following terms:
I, too, many times, not to say always, have not restruck such a note, and there
is a convenient example of it in the 16th bar of the tenor part of the above-
mentioned canzone. I did it with very good reason, because striking it again
brought to delicate ears a je ne sais quoi of sadness. And that is why the
contralto – entering immediately after the repetition which came in the fourth
part of the Semibreve on that same string – by repeating it several times, did
not satisfy the ear, because it did not bring any varied consonance, on which
the ear so gladly feeds and in the diversity of which the good and beautiful
[quality] of any modern cantilena consists.
97

These passages suggest a "high art" status to intabulation, and a concomitant high cultural value;
they also bring up the specter of anxiety over the growing influence of writing on what was an
aural, improvisatory art form. Within this context, the desire on the part of Gabrieli and Merulo
(or on the part of their relatives or even publishers) to situate intabulator as author makes sense.

Merulo's Petite Jacquet as Sounding Image
The evidence suggests a shifting of priorities. In the first part of the century, playing (that is,
glossing over) vocal music at the keyboard seems to have been largely a practice of
professionals. Their method was grounded in improvisation – in the art of sonare a fantasia –
using their “aural memories” of the work rather than a reliance on written-down material.
However, by the end of the century, factors including the growing influence of a base of

97
"Hò usato ancora io infinite volte, per non dir sempre, il non ribatter tal nota, & di questo ne havete un'essempio
assai accomodato, nella decima sesta casa della parte del Tenore della canzone sopra allegatavi, il che non feci senza
molta ragione imperoche ribattendola, apportava alle purgate orecchie non sò che dieristo, & di ciò era cagione la
parte del contralto, la quale entrava immediatamente dopo tal ripercussione nell'istessa corda, che veniva nella
quarta parte della sudetta semibreve, di maniera che ripercorendola tante volte, non veniva à sadisfare all'udito, per
non apportargli alcuna variata consonanza, delle quali tanto volentieri si pasce, nella diversità delle quali, consiste
principalmente il bello & buono di qual si voglia moderna cantilena." Galilei, Fronimo, 25.
English translation by Carol MacClintock: Vincenzo Galilei, Fronimo, trans. and ed. Carol MacClintock,
Musicological Studies and Documents, vol. 39 (Neuhausen-Stuttgart: American Institute of Musicology, 1985), 55.
262
sophisticated amateurs – both as patrons and buyers of music – and the new print culture, pushed
the practice towards being writing-dependent rather than aural. Professionally produced
intabulations would have to reflect skill in sonare a fantasia, even as they demonstrated the
elevation of intabulation as a written practice. Merulo's intabulation of the chanson Petite
Jacquet serves as a good example to see these various forces at work.
On the surface, Merulo's intabulation adheres little to the structure of its model, and it
might easily be labeled a sounding image, one reflective of a free and virtuosic performance. It
not only follows IKT conventions that result in hiding details of voice leading, but also features
the frequent reworkings of the model's voice leading, in many instances to the point of being
outright recomposition. In general, these omissions and alterations to the polyphony are
necessitated by the extensive ornamentation: for example, the Altus part of the model in measure
2 is reworked to accommodate the passaggi in the other parts (see Example 3.7). An entirely
new bastarda-style ornament is added to the left hand in measure 4; this in turn is related to the
opening scalar figure that Merulo quickly adopts as a new motive that he uses imitatively.
Merulo often links a soggetto in his model with a specific ornamental figure – in this way he
creates what might be called superstructures that use the model as scaffolding. Here, however,
the new figure is only loosely based on the chanson's imitative point. In measure 2, for example,
the ornamental figure is applied to the model’s Tenor – which only has filler material – rather
than to the Altus, which contains the chanson’s opening soggetto. The ornamental figure is being
inserted where it works best on the keyboard, rather than being slavishly applied to the model’s
subject. These changes imply that Merulo is improvising quite freely over the model’s harmonic
structure, recreating a performance of the chanson not from a score, but rather from his “aural
memories.”Further in the piece, Merulo seems to ignore vast swaths of original polyphony in
263
favor of superimposing a typically keyboardistic ornamental scheme, involving the bouncing of
an ornamental figure between the two hands (Example 3.8): The figuration is typical to
cinquecento keyboard music, and again reflects playing, with the emphasis on the two hands of
the player. It is not difficult to imagine it as the product of the improvisational practices of
keyboard thinking: this would involve the memorization of the figure and the use of a clichéd
264
(and fairly simple) scheme, alternating the figure from hand to hand. It is not at all uncommon in
Venetian cinquecento keyboard music, as can be seen here in a passemezzo by Marco Facoli
(Example 3.9): As in the Cavazzoni intabulation above, these elements – a loose adherence to
265
structure alongside stylistic markers of improvisation – suggest a view of the intabulation as a
sounding image of an improvised performance. Again, this is supported by the degree to which it
ignores aspects of the original polyphony.
266

The sounding-image tendency seen in this intabulation is also supported by idiosyncratic
elements that readily identify the composer-intabulator to be Merulo. For example, he frequently
uses what might be described as a characteristic cadential pattern, one that can be viewed as a
stock figure of sorts. Based on what we know about the role of memory in early-modern
improvisation, it is entirely plausible that players stockpiled their memories with clichéd figures
such as cadences or the alternating-hands scheme seen above; the fact that specific figures can be
tied to specific composers suggest that these figures were developed individually and became
stylistic signatures. Notably, these are not horizontal, or melodic, figures but fixed contrapuntal
patterns that involve a set pattern of stereotyped motion in all voices. For example, a
characteristic ut-re-ut pattern in the tenor tablature voice is typical for Merulo's cadences
(Example 3.10). Although there is some slight variation in the surface melodic patterns used in
the upper tablature voice, the cadential structure is used consistently enough to be considered a
267
268

269
stock figure. Merulo’s cadences are superimposed over a variety of contrapuntal cadential
structures in the model, further suggesting their identification as personal stock figures.
This lends credence to the notion of unwritten practices holding a large role in the
creation of Merulo's intabulation, and it further solidifies the notion that that intabulation should
be seen as a sounding image of an improvised or semi-improvised performance. Paradoxically,
however, elsewhere Merulo goes out of his way to include as much of the model's polyphony as
possible, in a way that completely contrasts with the prevailing ethos of the intabulation
(Example 3.11). In instances such as these, Merulo's apparent desire to include the original
polyphony creates textures that are downright awkward to play: the added e' to the 7-6
suspension in the left-hand (measure 1) is an unnecessary addition that only makes for a clunkier
texture; the tied a' in the right-hand of the same measure adds nothing at all to the performance
of the piece – nor does the tied tenor e' at the end of measure 4. In fact, this tie is actually part of
an alteration – a recomposition – of the model's polyphony. Overall, this passage seems to strive
to show the model's original polyphony; even Merulo's ornamentation manages to include notes
that would otherwise be left out (ironically, due to the same ornamentation): witness the
ornamental figure that passes between the two hands at the end of measure 2 in Example 11.
These instances – unusual when set against the overall ethos of IKT and its conventions – don't
necessarily aid the player in performing the piece. For example, IKT generally favors re-striking
long notes, not tying them; re-striking facilitates a much more idiomatic texture, as does, for that
matter, removing notes from the model that do not work within keyboardistic textures. In fact,
the intabulations of two ricercars by Padovano by Bertoldo (see Appendix A) often omit notes
from soggetti (from our perspective, the core structural element of a ricercar), and Leon
Chisholm has demonstrated that intabulators frequently removed notes from structural canons in
270
intabulated chansons, in order to create keyboardistic textures.
98
In these instances, however,

98
See Chisholm’s analyses of Cavazzoni’s Plus ne regrez and Gabrieli’s Qui la dira, cited above. Chisholm,
“Mechanization,” 27-41.
271
Merulo creates an unidiomatic texture by retaining notes from the model. The uncharacteristic
lack of ornamentation, which otherwise dominates Merulo’s texture, adds to the impression of a
conscious desire to show polyphonic detail at the expense of idiomatic texture.
Merulo's unidiomatic instances might make more sense if seen as holding another
function: to serve as visual signs to readers of the intabulation, signs used to demonstrate a
certain level of musical understanding on the part of the intabulator-composer. Rather than being
related to the performance of the intabulation, notational details that violate IKT convention to
show voice leading, such as added ties, incorrect stem directions, and awkwardly voiced chords,
could be interpreted as symbols of learnedness, signs that indicate that the intabulator
understands and wished to demonstrate the voice leading of his model. Considering notational
details as constituting signals of learnedness point to another mode of engagement between
intabulation and reader/user. In this, the reader appreciates the intabulation in a broader sense:
rather than imagining the music per se, they are invited to contemplate and appreciate the highly
nuanced and complex nature of the intabulation in general, which in turn reflects not just a
simple player skilled in fantasia but a learned and “worldly” (to riff on Galilei’s description
earlier) musician who understands the inner workings of his model. This is not dissimilar to
Anthony Newcomb’s notion of certain classes of readers using scores to “recognize and and
appreciate unusual examples of musical artifice in the notation on the page.”
99
Similarly, signs of
complexity and notational detail in intabulators may convey more information about the status of
complexity – a general concept – rather than any specific notational detail. In other words, they
convey not so much information about the intabulation but rather about the intabulator.

99
Newcomb, “Notions,” 7. It also aligns with Cristle Collin Judd’s description of the functioning of musical
examples in Charles Rosen’s The Romantic Generation, which, rather than to function as examples tied to the text,
create “for the listener/reader the musical world of the Romantic generation, or more to the point… to partake of
Charles Rosen’s communion with the Romantic generation.” Judd, Reading Renaissance Music Theory, 4.
272
Petite Jacquet can be seen as holding elements of both sounding image and dotta
partitura concurrently. It is almost as if Merulo wants to demonstrate two sides of his
intabulatory art: the virtuoso player of fantasia and the contrapuntist, who not only has
internalized the counterpoint of his model but can even, in a way, supersede it.

Andrea Gabrieli's Susanne un jour as Dotta Partitura
Merulo's intabulations commonly exploit the tendencies of sounding image and learned
partitura, both of which can be seen as types of authorial self-fashioning. Before examining
them further, however, it may be useful to briefly examine an intabulation that functions as a
dotta partitura to an unusual degree, Gabrieli’s intabulation of Lasso's Susanne un jour. Due to
the fact that Lasso's chanson spirituel is one of the most iconic instrumental models in the
sixteenth century, it is no surprise that Gabrieli's intabulation has already been the subject of
some analysis: Charles McDermott examined it in an effort to compare it with Merulo's
intabulation of the same chanson.
100
Although Gabrieli's intabulations tend to be less elaborate
than Merulo's, Susanne un jour is notably bare, leading McDermott to call it "probably an
incompletely embellished version," and "an accurate approximation of an amateur
performance."
101
As McDermott's analysis focuses on ornamentation, I will focus instead on
instances that demonstrate Gabrieli violating IKT conventions in order to show polyphonic detail
from the model. To cast these instances into further relief, I will also compare Gabrieli's setting
to both Merulo’s and to an anonymous one found in the Feininger Codex (ca. 1600).
102

100
See McDermott, “Canzoni,” 145-53.
101
McDermott, "Canzoni," 153. McDermott speculates that Gabrieli's version is "incomplete" because "additional
ornamentation could be, and presumably was, added even to printed arrangements," although this doesn't entirely
make sense as adding passaggi often necessitates the reworking of the model's polyphony.
102
See Alexander Silbiger, ed., Trent, Museo provinciale d'arte, Biblioteca musicale L. Feininger (New York:
Garland Press, 1987).
273
While Gabrieli’s intabulations generally follow IKT conventions, many small sections
seem to reveal the intabulator resisting their algorithmic actions. In these instances unnecessary
notational detail is used to clarify voice leading that is normally hidden by IKT convention.
Many of them take the form of added ties; as seen in Merulo's Petite Jacquet, these ties do not
facilitate playing – if anything, they hinder performance, creating awkward situations that
seemingly involve finger substitutions or force the hand into unidiomatic positions. These added
ties do, however, clarify the voice leading of the model. This can be seen in Example 3.12
(measures 8-9). Here, the Tenor's tie in measure 8 would force the player to execute a finger
substitution, again a technique for which no evidence exists during the sixteenth century. The
dotted b-flat in the second half of this bar in the inner voice of the left hand is equally
cumbersome to play; even the voicing of the E-flat chord on the third beat of measure 9 is
somewhat unidiomatic within the context of cinquecento keyboard music.
Revealing the voice leading of the model at the expense of idiomatic keyboard technique,
these instances push against IKT’s normal practice of hiding the voice leading: without the first
tie, for example, the reader would think that the b-flat on the second beat (the second note in the
tie) would be part of the tablature tenor part, which is actually a composite “fake” part created
from the model's Tenor and Quintus. The tie clarifies the model's voice leading. The dotted b-flat
in the left-hand at the end of the measure is likewise anomalous to IKT practice. A more normal
treatment would see the following a included as part of a basso seguente part – the bass tablature
voice – or even omitted altogether. In fact, this latter option is exactly what we see in Merulo's
intabulation
103
(Example 3.13). Rests can be used to clarify voice leading too; this function of
rests is relatively unusual in IKT – as seen in Chapter 1, the most typical function for rests is as

103
In the Trent Codex – see transcription in Appendix A – the intabulator rewrites the entire harmonic structure
here, removing the Tenor g entirely to facilitate a B-flat tonality.
274
pause di mano, signs to instruct the player to remove a finger from a given key. In measure 42 of
Gabrieli's intabulation, however, a rest is clearly used to clarify voice leading (Example 3.14).
Although at first glance the rest in the intabulation's tenor seems to be a typical "fake" tablature
rest – part of a tablature-voice tenor line that connects the c' to the semibreve d' on the second
half of the bar – it also signals that the model's real part, the Tenor, leaps from c' to f'. This effect
is highlighted by the unidiomatic chords: again, the somewhat unidiomatically voiced chord in
275
the right hand in the second half of the bar is a result of slavishly following the voice leading of
the model, as is the "embedded" semibreve in the middle of the left-hand chord on the first beat
of the bar. As we’ve already seen, long notes in IKT are frequently restruck, subsuming them
into regular chordal motion. Both of these instances go against the grain of normal IKT practice,
creating chords that are unidiomatic. The awkward stretch of a tenth between the tablature tenor
and bass parts at the end of the bar is also unidiomatic – normal IKT practice doesn't allow for
such stretches, and intabulators frequently rework the inner voices in order to remove them.
276
Again, Gabrieli's irregularities here can be demonstrated by examining Merulo's treatment of the
same section
104
(Example 3.15).
Gabrieli's tendency towards unidiomatic textures was also noticed by Giuseppe Clericetti,
who, as editor of the most recent complete modern edition of Gabrieli's keyboard works,
conducted a thorough typographical investigation of Gabrieli's (and Gardano's) prints.
105
Aware
of normal IKT conventions, Clericetti noticed several instances, in both intabulations and in free
(model-less) works such as toccatas and ricercars, in which Gabrieli bends the rules for the sake

104
Here the Feininger Codex has an uncharacteristically unidiomatic tie, but the dramatic reduction of the texture is
clearly keyboardistic.
105
See Clericetti, “Criteri.”
277
of polyphonic integrity. These include stretches of over an octave, the addition of ties to clarify
voice leading, and even instances in which stem directions are drawn "incorrectly" to indicate
voice leading.
106
In general, Gabrieli's intabulations tend to favor polyphonic structure when
compared to those of other keyboard intabulator-composers.
107
For example, Gabrieli is more apt
to use minute – the term Diruta uses for non-cadential diminutions – that incorporate notes from
voices that are otherwise left out of the intabulation (as seen in Merulo's Petite Jacquet above).
This practice can be seen in Susanne un jour as well (Example 3.16). While the long right-hand
passaggio primarily sticks to the contour of the model's Superiu, at the same time it manages to
include the notes from the Altus that are left out. It is almost as if Gabrieli is apologizing for their
omission by including them in the passaggio. As mentioned in Chapter 1, this practice

106
Ibid.
107
Another fruitful comparison can be made between the intabulations of Frais et Galliard by Gabrieli and Bertoldo
– see Appendix A.
278
foreshadows style brisé technique in the French school of lute and harpsichord playing that
developed in the seventeenth century.
Again, I should stress that all of this constitutes a general tendency; I’m not identifying a
distinct category of intabulation. Many of Gabrieli's intabulations tend to include more
ornamentation and to be more liberal in reworking the polyphony of their models. In general,
however, Gabrieli's intabulations are more literalistic: to wit, Merulo's Terzo Libro contains four
a5 chansons, but his intabulations of these chansons are, for the most part, in four parts, as he
consistently removes notes from the texture to create what are essentially idiomatic keyboard
pieces. But Merulo's intabulations do share with Gabrieli's an intense level of attention to
typographical detail. The level of detail is remarkable given the limitations of single-impression
279
printing. Although in making my transcriptions I have attempted to be as faithful as possible to
the original printed volume, only viewing a facsimile of the original print can truly do it justice
(Example 3.17). The process of producing these intabulations must have been painstakingly
difficult, and the sheer difficulty of execution in many cases certainly casts the level of notational
detail into greater relief; every additional tie or dot was presumably another step for the
publishing house. Again, it would seem that every notational detail and nuance has to be taken as
potentially meaningful. For example, in his survey of Gabrieli’s printed editions, Clericetti points
out that the stem directions are more or less random when notes appear by themselves in a staff,
but tend to follow IKT convention when there are multiple notes in a staff, demonstrating that
Gabrieli (and Gardano) carefully considered stem directions as part of IKT convention.

Truly Prescriptive? The Limitations of Single-Impression Printing
At the same time, while the process of single-impression printing was rather remarkable in what
it was able to accomplish, some technical limitations had to be accepted, and these limitations
should always be taken into consideration when examining music printed in IKT.
108
Giuseppe
Clericetti’s research on Andrea Gabrieli, already cited above, shows a strong tendency on the
part of Gabrieli (and his publisher Gardano) to be highly specific in notational detail, which at
the same time is tempered by an often frustrating lack of consistency. (Anyone who has worked
closely with sixteenth-century prints has noticed this).
109
At the same time, as Boncella notes, the
engraved volumes of Merulo's toccatas (and, for that matter, the Toccate of Frescobaldi

108
Although Boncella argues that single-impression printing was capable of replicating the same level of detail seen
in manuscript and engraved sources, his survey shows that single-impression prints often stop short of the same
level of detail, even as the intention of the publisher is clear. For example, an instances in which multiple rests
would ideally be used as instructions to remove fingers from keys, a single rest gives the general impression – the
engraved version will show all of the rests, presumably as adding rests is not as difficult as in single-impression
printing, whereas the single-impression will give only one. See Boncella, “Venetian Organ Toccata,” 131-36.
109
See Guiseppe Clericetti, “Criteri.”
280
published in the first half of the seventeenth century) reveal the l i m i t at i o ns of single-impression
printing: in essence these volumes are literally printed manuscripts, allowing their composers to
express full notational possibility, including a precise level of notation detail – particularly with
regard to possibilities of beaming fast notes – that single-impressions can only suggest.
110

110
See Boncella, “Venetian Organ Toccata,” 135-36.
281
Therefore, the limitations of single-impression printing technology suggest that much of
the notation has to be taken as a kind of ideal rather than as truly prescriptive. Of course, this
would seem to fly in the face of one of the principal arguments of the present dissertation: that
IKT was a prescriptive notation (like lute intavolatura), not a descriptive one (like the mensural
notation used to print polyphony in part-books). If IKT was meant to be prescriptive, why would
we have to accept many of its typographical details as gestures that can only aspire to the level of
precision seen in manuscript and engraved sources? In printed music, the limitations of
technology provide an answer; it seems obvious that, for the most part, printed intabulations
strove towards the ideal of being prescriptive even as they are somewhat limited by sixteenth-
century technology. And, along similar lines, IKT's conventions also function as general
tendencies rather than absolutes (see Chapter 1), in both manuscript and printed sources. As IKT
uses mensural notation, it is both descriptive and prescriptive: IKT intabulations often
demonstrate obvious errors or lack of ficta, and it is, of course, a truism that users of IKT
volumes were not forced to follow the notation exactly. In fact, the act of actually playing
through intabulations from the original notation reveals a great deal about the functioning of IKT
as an ideal: many intavolature attempt to be as readable as possible, but small errors and
instances where notes do not line up vertically are common.
In other words, many IKT volumes are not immediately readable in practice. In fact, most
intabulations require a few read-throughs before the player can execute them perfectly. Therefore
an examination of a given volume of printed music has to be conducted concurrently on two
different levels: the general tendency towards striving to show specific details (or not) of
notation, and, on specific instances in the musical text – in some cases, these areas actually clash.
For example, a given intabulation, or even a print, may in a global sense strive towards breaking
282
IKT conventions to show polyphonic detail, but may seem to fall back towards IKT conventions
in some instances, in an almost subconscious manner. In other cases, a given print may generally
follow IKT conventions but not entirely so, in a manner that perhaps suggests that typographical
considerations prevented the publisher from being as specific as he may have been.

Gabrieli’s Susanne un Jour as Dotta Partitura: Fashioning a Sense of Musical
Understanding
Read in this light, Gabrieli's tablatures do show a tendency towards dotta partitura over
sounding image. I would argue that Susanne un jour, in the notational irregularities highlighted
above, strives in many ways to be a partitura – a full score that seems to reveal the voice leading
of the model. Interestingly enough, in his lute treatise Fronimo Galilei also strives to show
polyphonic detail by bending the rules of lute tablature notation. (In fact, Galilei's treatise
contains a lengthy section on counterpoint, which Galilei apparently felt was necessary for
learning to intabulate). For example, he invents a sign – a cross – to
signify that the finger should be held firm in that place and shows that the part
should not move, but it is used by me with such art that each skilled
contrapuntist and lute player must see, by its use, how the dissonances are
accommodated and resolved, and how that parts are joined together; and they
may consider in detail all the artifice and value to be found there, not less than if
they had before them the notes themselves arranged in the manner that you see
in the Duo. And further, they may with the greatest ease extract from it these
same notes, distinct in the quality and quantity of the part from which the
intabulation was drawn by me, and use them for any purpose.
111

111
Galilei, Fronimo, trans. MacClintock, 44. “non vuol solo significare come in molt’altre il tener fermo in quell
luogho il ditto, & manifestare che quella parte duo egl’è non si muove, ma vi è da me accomodato con tal arte, che
può ciascuno perito contrapuntista, & sonator di liuto col suo mezzo, scorger come in esse siano accommodate &
resolute le dissonanze, & come siano conlegate insieme le parti, & considerare minutamente tutto l’artificio &
quanto di buono in esse si ritrova: non meno che s’egli havese inanzi l’istese note spartite nella maniera che si
vedono nel Duo sudetto, & in oltre può agevolissimamente trarne l’istesse note distinte in quella quantita, & qualita,
di parte, dale quali esse intavolature furno da me tratte, & servirsene dipoi per qual si voglia suo comodo.” Galilei,
Fronimo, 14.
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Galilei's cross was invented to clarify voice leading, and to ensure that the model's polyphony
was treated with fidelity. In addition, Galilei stresses the role of proper (i.e., vocal) counterpoint
in instances where the intabulator decides to recompose or rework the original polyphony. In an
instance in which he addresses the reworking of the polyphony of a model, he writes:
You should also take care never to commit such awkward writing as some do,
leaning on the weak excuse of facilitating the hand. / These do the greatest harm
to the composer of the cantilena and should be accommodated in this way, and
even when, for whatever reason, one might want to play them in the manner
shown, at least the should be written correctly, which is this way.
112

Galilei provides two examples – both representing a reworking of a model – but the
second demonstrates “correct” counterpoint. The overall aesthetic of Galilei's treatise can help
explain Gabrieli's notational irregularities. Both share a tendency to place value on preserving the
polyphony of an intabulation's model, trying, in a sense, to use IKT as a true partitura. As seen
earlier, Galilei designated his treatise for “rari contrappunti,” and I would argue that Gabrieli's
intabulations can be seen as intended for a similar class. Of course, as noted earlier, Anthony
Newcomb identified this association between partiture and "rari contrappuntisti,” arguing that
the partitura format – expensive and difficult to print – was used to demonstrate specific
moments of artifice and compositional skill to a select readership. These moments could only be
appreciated visually, as they were too obscure to be actually heard. It is interesting to consider
Newcomb’s artificioso circles from the perspective of self-fashioning. Composers could
ostensibly exploit partiture to fashion artistic personas of learned musici. For example, as part of
his argument, Newcomb cites the Secondo Libro of keyboard music by Giovanni Maria Trabaci

112
Galilei, Fronimo, 70, trans. Carol MacClintock. “Vi dovete guardare ancora non commettere mai tali
inconvenienti che fogliono alcuni commettere, appoggiandosi alla debole scusa di facilitar la mano… I quali fanno
inguitia grandissima a gli autori, di esse cantilena, & si devono accomodare cosi, & quando pur per quai si voglia
rispetto gli volessero sonare della maniera mostrata, scrivergli almeno come hanno da stare che questo è il modo.”
Galilei, Fronimo, 38.
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(1615); in this volume Trabaci provides a table of countrapuntal devices – inganno, diminution,
stretto, and the like – that he uses in his ricercars, complete with signs in the score to show where
they are being used. I would argue that Trabaci's print suggests a case of self-fashioning through
his music: his signs are included to demonstrate his ingenuity and learnedness to his reader.
In similar fashion, Gabrieli as composer-intabulator is also practicing a form of self-
fashioning, by pushing his intabulations towards a partitura-like format and function. Like
Trabaci’s highlighting of his instances of artificioso counterpoint, Gabrieli’s details are only to
be appreciated visually, not aurally. By including elements of voice leading that contradict IKT
practice, Gabrieli also reveals himself to be a learned musico. This is especially the case if the
multiple levels of mimesis mentioned earlier are considered. The amount of detail in the
tablature forces the player of Gabrieli's intabulation to mimic the artful motions that Gabrieli the
musico would take himself; they get to simultaenously relive and recreate Gabrieli's performance
and his musical thinking, as both performer and listener. If considered a form of "iconic"
notation, Gabrieli’s intabulation refers the reader to Gabrieli’s status as an intellectual musician,
the signs of the notation not serving as literal indications but general ones, giving the reader a
closer sense of the ethos of Gabrieli's art – in this way they function as signs of learnedness in
the same way that Trabaci's do. Gabrieli's notational details function on a symbolic level,
signaling contrapuntal skill and understanding on the part of the intabulator, and through his
attention to detail his intabulations demonstrate a level of complexity and artificioso in and of
themselves.

285
Merulo's Self-Fashioning: Technical Detail as Virtuosity
This idea of intabulation – and specifically, notational detail – as a demonstration of musical
artifice reaches its peak with the intabulations of Claudio Merulo. Merulo is much more liberal
when it comes to altering the polyphony of his model, as seen in Petite Jacquet above. However,
Merulo's recomposition contains a level of contrapuntal artfulness that draws upon many of the
same visual signs that Gabrieli uses. These notational details contribute to the overall artificioso
quality of Merulo's intabulations, with their multiple layers of ornamentation and the subsequent
recomposition necessitated by that ornamentation. Merulo's visual signs give the impression of a
faithful following of the model's original polyphony, but are in fact often related to his own
reworkings, the polyphony he superimposes on his model. This polyphony often becomes
autonomous. In this sense, Merulo intabulations function simultaneously as sounding images and
dotte partiture.
Merulo's art as intabulator is perhaps best demonstrated by the intabulations of four five-
part chansons in his Terzo Libro (1611). These chansons are already somewhat atypical for
intabulations: most of Gabrieli's intabulations, for example, adapt as models simpler, four-part
chansons with frequent homophonic sections, following both the advice of Galilei (see above)
and a “standard” repertoire of vocal models exemplified by prints such as Gardano’s Musica de
diversi autori (see note 42 above).
113
Apart from the ubiquitous Susanne un jour, Merulo chooses
three chansons by Crecquillon that are squarely in the Netherlandish motet style, featuring dense
webs of imitation and far fewer sections of homophony.
Merulo's intabulations feature a high level of attention paid to notational detail; this can
be seen in Example 3.18. Merulo's score is littered with ties; most of these are used to clarify the

113
Gabrieli’s models also tend to be commonly found in other sixteenth-century books of intabulations (lute and
keyboard).
286
motion of voices against other voices, and in this Merulo seems to strive to be as faithful towards
Crecquillon's dense polyphony as possible. At the same time, Merulo's subtle ornamental
additions demand much typographical attention. The sheer complexity of printing can again be
best demonstrated by viewing a facsimile of the original (Example 3.19). Beyond the overall
complexity, a few other details are worth noting. In measure 33 two extra e's are added in the
287
second half of the second beat in the right hand; while these additions are minor, they
demonstrate Merulo's keyboard thinking, in that they show him c om p o s i ng in tablature voices
rather than reworking the voices of the model. Merulo is exploiting the very functioning of IKT
288
to create them: the line of ornamentation that begins on the previous measure's g' "travels" – as
in bastarda practice – to a new note in a new voice (the e'), but this new voice does not exist in
the model. It is easy to see why Merulo adds them: Crecquillon's texture here thins out in a way
that works perfectly well for vocal music, but not so well on the keyboard. Thus the first added e'
gets an upwards stem that links it to the following g'; the line is essentially a seguente part
formed of the Superius and Alto of the model, and the added e's do not work if considered to be
polyphonic parts of the model. Interestingly enough, later in the same measure Merulo violates
IKT convention in a brief instances (measure 33), to show the 7-6 suspension at the end of the
measure. The first note of the suspension – the c'' – is given an "incorrect" stem direction. IKT
conventions would demand that it have an upwards stem, but instead it has a downwards stem to
clarify the fact that it belongs contrapuntally to the Altus’s suspension rather than to the
Superius.
Another notable thing is seen in this example. Ties are added in the left hand in measure
35 that seem to violate IKT convention in order to clarify voice leading. However, a comparison
between intabulation and model shows that the clarifying ties are added to wrong notes – that is,
"fake" tablature voices – rather than to the model's parts. The first tie is added to the b in the left
hand – a note that is not in the model at all – and the same goes for the d' ties at the end of the
measure. These ties are therefore part of Merulo's new polyhpony, not the original polyphony,
and Merulo's new counterpoint includes blatant parallel fifths that are not in the model, even as a
by-product of voice crossings – these parallel fifths are common in cinquecento keyboard music,
but are of course not allowable in vocal counterpoint. As seen in Gabriel's Susanne un jour, ties
are typically added to clarify the voice leading of the model; in fact, we see Merulo do this
himself in this intabulation (see measures 8-9). However, their addition in this particular
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instance leads the reader to assume that the model is at "fault" for the parallels – we have seen
that IKT conventions typically create visual parallels caused by voice-crossings. In other words,
Merulo is sneaking in his own parallel fifths under the guise of IKT convention, while seemingly
trying to convince the reader that they are a product of voice crossings in Crecquillon's chanson,
by adding fake ties to indicate "proper" voice leading that doesn't actually exist. It is almost as if
the ties were added by Merulo to deceive the reader of his intabulation.
Rather than deception, however, I would argue that these ties demonstrate an instance of
Merulo attempting to fashion a persona of learned musico. In earlier music from the cinquecento,
in Marco Antonio Cavazzoni and in the Castell'Arquato material examined in Chapter 2, for
instance, parallel fifths and octaves are a matter of course. Here, however, Merulo seems to feel
the need to hide them, perhaps a need created by a sense of anxiety: printing has made it more
likely that his reader may have access to the part-books or even a partitura of his model.
Self-fashioning theory explains many of the intabulation decisions take by Merulo. For
example, Oncques amour is filled with many instances of these "fake" ties, which can be seen,
for example, in measure 25 (Example 3.20). Here we see the same procedure: Merulo has re-
written the inner voices and added ties to notes that do not appear in the model. These ties
demonstrate Merulo's artfulness on two levels: on the one hand they once again signal
contrapuntal understanding
114
; on the other hand, if read by a performer, they force the performer
to adopt a particularly artful performance, with a subtle reduction of texture on beats two and
four. This again speaks to the multi-layered functioning of IKT's mimesis; in addition, Merulo
shows himself to be a highly skilled performer and a highly skilled composer.

114
Albeit an understanding of his own counterpoint, not Crecquillon's – in fact, the first tie disguises Crecquillon's
voice leading; his Quintus motion from g to c' is obscured by it.
290

Thinking in Tablature Voices
As mentioned, Merulo's alterations are frequently grounded in the logic of tablature voices – the
"new" voices that are visually created by the vertical array of the notes in the tablature, and by
IKT conventions such as stem direction practice – in that individual notes and ties seem to be
added following the direction and contour of the tablature voices rather than those of the model.
291
While tablature voices are created automatically by IKT convention, many of Merulo's
compositional choices seem to be driven by and work within their logic. Merulo's intabulations
therefore offer a window on a process in which IKT's algorithmically applied rules could
function as a compositional workshop: if one were to take Merulo's tablature voices and
transcribe them into part-books or a full score, a relatively new composition would emerge.
Several instances can be demonstrated that show this process. Take, for example, the
following instance in Oncques amour (Example 3.21). Here, IKT's stem practices create parallel
octaves and fifths at the end of measure 37 in the left hand. The parallel fifths are a result of
voice-crossings in the model: the g-to-a motion in the tenor is not "real," as it is a composite part
formed of the Tenor and Quintus of the model. Merulo once again uses notation to try and
demonstrate this phenomenon: the two notes receive seperate stem directions in the tablature,
going against normal IKT functioning (which would typically give the notes the same stem
directions, allowing the tablature voice to stand as it is.)
115
However, while the fifths are present
in the model, at least aurally, the near-parallel octave is not. The d' in the left hand on the first
beat of measure 38 is added by Merulo, ostensibly to create a more keyboardistic texture. Once
again, Merulo is using a keyboard figure typical in cinquecento music – one that is at the same
time a violation of vocal counterpoint – but shielding it from scrutiny by signaling that the
"infraction" is in fact the result of IKT convention.
In the same example, the tie seen in the left hand in the second half measure 38 only
functions as part of a tablature voice, connecting notes from two separate voices in the model
(the Tenor and the Altus). As in the examples seen above, it is awkward to play, and does not
even result in the reduction of texture as seen earlier. In fact, given what we know about early

115
It is interesting to note that, as Boncella points out, IKT paints a sonic image: the "parallels" don't exist abstractly
-- as counterpoint -- but aurally, and the notation reflects this. See Boncella, “Venetian Organ Toccata,” 128.
292
modern Italian keyboard performance practice, thinning the texture was not typical; instead
players were advised to restrike tied notes, especially on plucked keyboard instruments, in order
to not leave the instrument "empty" (i.e., to maintain a fuller texture.)
116
I would argue that
Merulo included the tie solely to give the reader a sense of his skill as a contrapuntist: the
counterpoint in question in this case is the "new" counterpoint created by Merulo's expert
exploitation of the tablature voices.
The theoretical concept of thinking in tablature voices goes a long way in explaining
Merulo's overall intabulation procedure. In Example 3.22 we see an ornamental cadential figure

116
See L.F. Tagliavini, “The Art of 'Not Leaving the Instrument Empty': On Early Italian Harpsichord Playing,”
Early Music 11 (1983): 299–308.
293
that only exists in the tablature voices: the trill in the left hand of measure 27 – complete with
ficta f#' – conects the Tenor f' to the Altus g'. The ficta addition, as well as the cadential trill,
would not work if the chanson were sung among a group of singers: the f#' would be patently
incorrect within the context of the Tenor's motion, and the trill would be left hanging, without a
reasonable contrapuntal resolution. It only makes sense within the context of the keyboard
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tablature voices. The concept of tablature voices helps to explain many of the irregularities seen
here. For example, the added ties in measure 28 belong to tablature voices, not real ones: they
support the extensive alterations made to accomodate the passaggio in the right hand, which is a
form of recomposition. Merulo's subtle recomposition in measure 29 also makes sense if
considered part of a tablature voice: the c' on the second beat of the left hand is taken from the
Bassus but moved back by a semiminim, and then melded seamlessly with the Tenor's falling
eighth notes to create a keyboardistic figure.
Merulo is therefore playing within the space that exists between the "real" voice leading
of the model, and the tablature voices that are created automatically by IKT convention. The
automatic, "natural" creation of these tablature voices by IKT conventions is exploited by
Merulo to effect further changes. This is especially true of Merulo's ornamentation practice. As
seen earlier, Merulo is fond of creating ornamental superstructures that sit atop the scaffolding of
the model. These superstructures are often based on tablature voices – extracted from the model
as the foundation for new composition – and draw attention to Merulo's own contrapuntal skill.
Merulo's extensive style of ornamentation can be seen clearly in the intabulation of
Content ou non, also from the Terzo Libro. Typically, it features bastarda-style figures – in
which an ornament travels from one voice to another – as well as minute that subtly touch upon
notes that are omitted as part of the intabulation process. Both can be seen in Example 3.23. In
the second half of measure 28, the long scalar gesture connects the Superius f' to the Bassus g
(while overshooting by an octave) in bastarda fashion. Related to bastarda practice, the minuta
in the next measure travels from the Superius a' to the Tenor g and back, while also managing to
touch upon the Quintus b-flat, which was ostensibly omitted to create room for this very
ornament. If one were to imaging Merulo's process here, it is easy to speculate that he might
295
have improvised these ornaments over the tablature voices created by IKT practice. All of the
notation follows IKT convention in hiding details of voice leading (see the accompaniment in the
left hand of measure 27, for example), and the ornaments are freely applied over the chords
296
created by IKT’s vertical segmentation, rather than strictly following any polyphonic voice. As
mentioned in Chapter 1, these vertical arrays often seem to be processed on a minim-by-minim
basis. Interestingly enough, this model works equally well if the creation of Merulo's intabulation
is seen as a written process or a mental one. The tablature voices reflect the way a player
conceives of the music aurally, and the written tablature voices reflect this: in this way IKT
represents a mental image of keyboard thinking.
Merulo's exploitation of tablature voices show IKT's functioning as a kind of tablet for
new composition. This is particularly clear in instances in which Merulo uses the model as a
scaffolding for his own ornamentational superstructures. In Example 3.24, Merulo superimposes
a faster-moving ornamental figure over Crecquillon's imtative point; on the one hand this
clarifies Crecquillon's polyphony, but on the other hand Merulo's ornamentation takes on a life of
its own. In several instances (see, for example, measures 32, 35, and 36), the ornamental figure is
superimposed over contrapuntal material in the model that is not the original motive. Rather than
slavishly connecting Crecquillon's figure with the new ornamental one, Merulo freely inserts the
figure where it will fit, using the tablature voices as the structural foundation. As Merulo's new
point of ornamentation takes on a life of its own, the composer's exploitation of the tablature
voices increases: in measures 38-39, the accompaniment in the left-hand looks complicated –
and, more importantly, like something that might belong to the original polyphony. However, it
is entirely Merulo's invention: the g'-f#' 7-6 suspension is perfectly idiomatic to the keyboard,
and represents the algorithmic adoption of Crecquillon's vocal polyphony for keyboard. Most
importantly, the notational detail that Merulo adds – the ties, the careful consideration of stem
direction, the rests – amplifies the feeling that Merulo's polyphony can stand next to
Crecquillon's on its own terms. This demonstrates Merulo's self-fashioning on two levels: if one
297
did not know the original polyphony, one might assume that the detail refers to the model,
generating appreciation for Merulo's knowledge of the model and its counterpoint. To the savvy
reader, however – one who di d know the polyphony inside and out – the detail points to Merulo's
298
compositional skill. To both types of reader, the level of detail and the virtuosity and artfulness
of the ornamentation demonstrate Merulo the virtuoso keyboardist and Merulo the great musico.

**********

Although these notational details all operate on a small-scale and subtle level, this does
not diminish their significance; again, the level of typographical and notational detail in Claudio
Merulo's volumes foreshadow the heightened level of detail he was able to achieve in his two
libri of engraved toccatas. The fact that his intabulations and toccatas strive towards the same
level of notational detail and artifice indicate the "high art" status of his intabulations. In
addition, Newcomb's definition of artificioso composition – for Newcomb, these are exclusively
contrapuntal works that demonstrate contrapuntal devices – may again be too narrow: the subtle
level of detail in Merulo's intabulations indicate their status as a similar type of composition, to
be appreciated by an analogous type of readership with an analogous mode of engagement.
Merulo's intabulations therefore represent an element of persona-construction on behalf
of the composer. They play within the space between sonare a fantasia and the learnedness that
is exemplified by the use of partiture of the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries.
Composers willfully exploited the nature of IKT – its conventions and its filtering process – to
demonstrate aspects of their musical, keyboardistic personas to their readership. While
individual composers may have heightened different aspects (for example, not thoroughly
examined in this chapter are the highly virtuosic intabulations by Gabrieli, which can take on the
feeling of a perpetuum mobile in what a past generation of scholars rather contemptuously
299
dismissed as the "colorist" style), their self-fashioning and its functioning – its medium, motive,
authorship, and the like – were essentially the same.
In a sense, this self-fashioning can serve as a test case, one that can be conceivably be
applied to other notational mediums and other genres. The overall dynamic created by IKT's
filtering on one hand, and the way that composers exploited or pushed against it on the other,
could explain other musical-stylistic features – features that may traditionally be assumed to be
purely under the domain of compositional agency.

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Conclusions

Of all areas of Western music history, notation is the one perhaps at the greatest danger of falling
victim to a kind of teleological narrative. This is understandable; after all, we typically encounter
modern notation every day, both as scholars and as performers, and its general appearance, its
typographical features, and its functioning all appear normal to us. In contrast, historical notation
can seem abnormal, with strange or primitive typographical features and archaic functioning. In
spite of recent trends towards preserving aspects of historical notation in making modern editions
– retaining original note values rather than halving them, for instance, the act of making a
modern edition forces historical notation to fit in the framework of modern notation, even as
individual features may nod to historical practice.
If nothing else, the exploration of Italian keyboard tablature conducted in this dissertation
highlights the significant gaps between modern notational practices and a particular historical
one. It cautions against adopting one-size-fits-all descriptions and analytical approaches when it
comes to examining any historical notational system. An exploration of a particular historic
system ultimately becomes, on some level, an exploration of differences.
The study of IKT also highlights how essential it is to have at least a superficial
knowledge of the inner workings and conventions of a given notational format. It is not enough
to consider the “music itself” as a kind of universal object, one that can be ontologically
separated from the logic of the notation that transmits it. Instead, notation and musical style are
intrinsically linked. This can be observed from both practical and conceptual perspectives. From
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a practical perspective, the data that are transmitted by historic notational features often contains
specific performance instructions, such as the IKT rule that the staff a note is on should indicate
which hand plays it. While these sorts of instructions are more readily seen in music found in
manuscripts or engraved prints, in which irregular beaming patterns strongly suggest a function
of indicating phrasing, even in the single-impression keyboard prints of Gardano and Vincenti, in
which fast notes lack beaming due to technological limitations, details transmit important
performance information. In fact, all of IKT’s conventions can be read as doing so. As
demonstrated in this dissertation, the conventions of IKT operate in prints and manuscripts alike.
It is therefore problematic that some modern editions continue to be made in ignorance of IKT’s
conventions; an examination of modern editions of music printed in IKT show that this is often
the case.
1

In addition, many details of IKT can be seen as transmitting important that operates on a
broader, conceptual level. These data might not actively influence any particular performance
decision, but they rather open a window of sorts that reveals the way that the scribe, publisher, or
composer thought about the music – for example, whether their musical conception was chord-
driven, or polyphonic, or somewhere between the two. In this sense, reading historic notation can
be viewed as an archeological act, allowing us, on some level, to enter the mind of the original
creator, or at least to simulate it, by going through the same mental processes of reading and
execution as a sixteenth-century player would have done.

1
For example, the IKT stave/hand rule is often ignored, even in recently printed volumes such as CEKM’s edition
of keyboard music from Castell’Arquato. See H. Colin Slim, ed., Keyboard Music at Castell'Arquato, vol. 3, ed. H.
Colin Slim, CEKM 37 (Middleton, WI: American Institute of Musicology, 2003), ix

302

Performing music from historic prints and manuscripts need not be the only archeological
act available to present-day performers and scholars. It is my hope that some of the practices
explored in the present dissertation – such as the hypothetical sonare a consonanze and the
subtle nuances of intabulation practice – will invite the exploration of these techniques as praxis,
not as abstract scholarly exercises. While Bruce Haynes’s call for a body of new music created
by historic practice – Period composing, as he calls it – has not, as of yet, taken off as a
prominent phenomenon in early music, at the very least the adoption of historically grounded
improvisational and compositional methods can serve as important tools, ones that allow present-
day performers to become more fluent and to gain a deeper understanding of the music they
play.
2
If anything, the practices examined here could allow us to become better improvisers,
which would in turn move us closer to the mindset of our historic counterparts. Used in this way,
these techniques can result in what Haynes calls “serendipity”: the “joyful phenomenon of
making happy and agreeable discoveries unintentionally.”
3
It is my hope that this dissertation
may invite its readers to take the initial steps towards this happy state.

2
Bruce Haynes, The End of Early Music (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007), 7.
3
Ibid.

303

BIBLIOGRAPHY

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Agazzari, Agostino. Del Sonare sopra’l basso con tutti li stromenti. Siena: Falcini, 1607.

Banchieri, Adriano. Conclusioni nell suono dell’Organo… Bologna: gli Heredi di Gio. Rossi,
1609. Facsimile edition by A. Forni. Bologna: Forni Editore, 1968.

——— L’Organo Suonarino. Venice: Ricciardo Amadino, 1605. Fascimile edition by A. Forni,
with a preface by Giulio Cattin. Contains excerpts from reprints of the original edition.
Bologna: A. Forni, 1969.

——— Cartella Musicale nel Canto Figurato, Fermo, & Contrapunto. Third Edition. Venice:
Vincenti, 1614. Facsimile edition online.
http://imslp.org/wiki/Cartella_Musicale_%28Banchieri%2C_Adriano%29. Accessed
March 1, 2017.

Bottrigari, Ercole. Il Desiderio, overo de' concerti di varii strumenti musicali. Venice: Amadino,
1594.

Dalla Casa, Girolamo. Il vero modo di diminuir, con tutte le sorti di stromenti, 2 vols. Venice:
Gardano, 1594. Facsimile edition, with preface by Giuseppe Vecchi. Bologna: A. Forni,
1996.

Diruta, Girolamo. Il Transilvano: dialogo sopra il vero modo di sonar organi, et istromenti da
penna. 2 vols. Venice: Vincenti, 1593, 1609.

Doni, Anton Francesco. Dialogo della musica. Edited by G.F. Malipiero. Venice: Fondazaione
Giorgio Cini, 1965.

Galilei, Vincenzo. Il Fronimo: Dialogo di Vincentino Galilei nobile Florentino, sopra l'arte del
bene intavolare... 2nd ed. Venice: Scotto, 1584). Translated and edited by Carol
MacClintock. Stuttgart: American Institute of Musicology, 1985.

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Musical Sources: Manuscripts

D-Mbs Munich, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Musikabteilung, Mus Ms. 9437 (Intabolatura
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GB-Lcm, Library of the Royal College of Music, London, 2088 (“Facoli Manuscript”)

I-CARcc Castell'Arquato, Archivio della Chiesa collegiata ("Castell Arquato")

I-Fl Florence, Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana Ms. Acquisti e Doni 641 ("Layolle Manuscript")

I-Fmba Florence, Museo Bardini Ms. 967 ("Bardini Manuscript")

I-Nc Ms. Mus. str. 48 ("Naples 48")

I-Trmp Trent, Museo provinciale d’arte, Biblioteca musicale L. Feininger, n.s ("Feininger
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I-Vnm: Ms. It. IV 1227 (“Venice 1227”)

Editions of Printed Music – before 1800

Anon., Intavolatura d’organo facilissima Venice: Vincenti, 1598.

Anon., Musica Nova accommodata per cantar et sonar sopra organi et altri strumenti /composta
per diversi eccellentissimi musici. Venice: Pozzo, 1540.

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Facsimile edition. Bologna: Forni, 1970.

315

Arcadelt, Jacob. Il primo libro di madrigali d’Archadelt, a quatro con muova gionta impressi.
Venice: Gardano, 1539.

Bertoldo, Sperindio. Opere per tastiera (Venice 1591). Fascimile and modern edition by Luigi
Collarile. Colledare, IT: Andromeda Edition, 2005.

Bottazzi, Bernadino. Choro et organo. Venice: Vincenti, 1614.

Buus, Jacques. Intabolatura d’Organo di Recercari (Venezia: Gardane, 1549). Fascimile and
modern edition by Liuwe Tamminga. [Bologna]: Arnaldo Forni Editore, 2004.

Cavazzoni, Marco Antonio. Recerchari, motetti, canzoni…libro primo. Venice: Vercelensis,
1523.

Cavazzoni, Girolamo. Intavolatura cioe. Recercari Canzoni Himni..Libro Primo. Venice: B.V.
1543.

Gardano, Angelo. Musica de diversi autori. La bataglia francese et canzon delli ucelli insieme
alcune francese, partite in caselle per sonar d'instromento perfetto: novamente
ristampate. Venice: Angelo Gardano, 1577.

Luzzaschi, Luzzasco. Madrigali per cantare et sonare a uno, e doi, e tre soprani … Rome:
Verovio, 1601.

Mayone, Ascanio. Primo libro di diversi capricci per sonare. Naples: Constantino Vitale, 1603.

——— Secondo libro di diversi capricci per sonare. Naples: Gargano and Nucci, 1609.

Merulo, Claudio. Canzoni d'intavolatura d'organo fatte alla francese.. Venice: Gardano, 1592.

——— Libro secondo di canzoni d'intavolatura d'organo fatte alla francese. Venice: Gardano,
1606.

——— Terzo libro de canzoni d'intavolatura d'organo fatte alla francese. Venice: Gardano,
1611.

——— Missarum quinque vocum. Liber primus.. Venice: Gardano, 1573.

Padovano, Annibale. Il primo libro de ricercari a quattro voci. Venice: Gardano, 1556.

Rore, Cipriano. Tutti i madrigali di Cipriano di Rore, a Quattro voci. Venice: Gardano, 1577.

Trabaci, Giovanni Maria. Ricercate, canzone franzese, capricci, canti fermi…. à quattro voci :
Libro primo. Naples: Constantino Vitale, 1603. Facsimile edition. Florence: Studio per
Edizioni Scelte, 1984.

316

——— Il secondo libro de ricercate & altri varij capricci… Naples: Carlino, 1615. Facsimile
edition. Florence: Studio per Edizioni Scelte, 1984.

Editions of Printed Music – after 1800

Arcadelt, Jacob. Opera omnia. Edited by Albert Seay. Vol. 31, part 2 of Corpus mensurabilis
musicae. [NP]: American Institute of Musicology, 1970.

Brumel, Giaches. The Ricercars of the Bourdenay Codex. Edited by Anthony Newcomb.
Madison, WI: A-R Editions, 1991.

Cavazzoni, Girolamo. Orgelwerke. 2 vols. Oscar Mischiati, ed. Mainz: B. Schott’s Söhne, 1959.

Clemens non papa, Jacobus. Chansons. Edited by Karel Bernet Kempers. Vol. 4, part 10 of
Corpus mensurabilis musicae. Rome: American Institute of Musicology, 1962.

Crecquillon, Thomas. Opera omnia. Edited by Laura Youens, Barton Hudson, et al. Vol. 63, part
16 of Corpus mensurabilis musicae. [Germany]: American Institute of Musicology, 2003.

——— Opera omnia. Edited by Laura Youens, Barton Hudson, et al. Vol. 63, part 17 of Corpus
mensurabilis musicae. [Germany]: American Institute of Musicology, 2005.

——— Opera omnia. Edited by Laura Youens, Barton Hudson, et al. Vol. 63, part 18 of Corpus
mensurabilis musicae. [Germany]: American Institute of Musicology, 2011.

——— Opera omnia. Edited by Laura Youens, Barton Hudson, et al. Vol. 63, part 19 of Corpus
mensurabilis musicae. [Germany]: American Institute of Musicology, 2000.

Ferrabosco, Domenico. Opera omnia. Edited by Richard Charteris. Vol. 102 of Corpus
mensurabilis musicae. Neuhausen-Stuttgart: American Institute of Musicology, 1992.

Frescobaldi, Das erste Buch der Capricci, Ricercari und Canzoni 1626. Edited by Pierre Pidoux.
Kassel: Bärenreiter-Verlag, 1949.

Froberger, Johann Jacob. Neue Ausgabe sämtliche Werke III: Clavier- und Orgelwerke
abschriftlicher Überlieferung, Partiten und Partitensätze, Teil 1. Edited by Siegbert
Rampe. Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1993.

Gabrieli, Andrea. Intonationen für Orgel. Edited by Pierre Pidoux. Kassel, Germany, and New
York: Bärenreiter, 1959.

Hogwood, Christopher. Balli per cembalo: 90 Keyboard Pieces from Early Italian Manuscripts.
Launton, UK: Edition HH, 2007.

317

Janequin, Clément. Chansons polyphoniques, vol. 2. Edited by A. Tillman Merritt and François
Lesure. Monaco: Editions de L’Oiseau-Lyre, 1965.

Lasso, Orlando di. Chansons. Edited by Jane Berstein. Vol. 14 of The Sixteenth-Century
Chanson. New York: Garland, 1987.

Merulo, Claudio. Canzoni d’intavolatura d’organo. Edited by Walker Cunningham and Charles
McDermott. Madison, WI: A-R Editions, 1992.

Rore, Cipriano de. Opera omnia. Edited by Bernhard Meier. Vol 14, part 4 of Corpus
mensurabilis musicae. [Rome]: American Institute of Musicology, 1969.

Silbiger, Alexander, ed. Trent, Museo provinciale d'arte, Biblioteca musicale L. Feininger, n.s.
New York: Garland Press, 1987.

——— London, British Library, ms. Add. 30491. New York: Garland, 1987.

Slim, H Colin, ed. Keyboard Music at Castell’Arquato. 3 vols. Corpus of Early Keyboard Music
37. Middleton, WI.: American Institute of Musicology, 1975–2005.

Tamminga, Liuwe, editor. Musica Nova: Ricercari. Tasture 3. Colledara: Andromeda Editrice,
2001.

Willaert, Adrian. The Complete Five and Six-Voice Chansons. Edited by Jane A. Bernstein. Vol.
23 of The Sixteenth Century Chansons. New York: Garland, 1992.

318

APPENDIX
INTABULATION MODELS FOR SELECTED INTABULATIONS FROM PRINT AND
MANUSCRIPT SOURCES

319

APPENDIX: SOURCES AND EDITORIAL NOTES
1

1. Anon., (Ancor che col partire) (fragment)

Sources:
Intabulation: Ca, fascicle 4a, 14v.
Model: Rore, Ancor che col partire, adapted from Cirpriano de Rore, Opera omnia, ed.
Bernhard Meier, vol. 14, part 4 of Corpus mensurabilis musicae (Rome: American
Institute of Musicology, 1969).

2. Anon., Anchor che co’l partire. Madrigale a4. di Cipriano de Rore. Tabulato da Andrea
Gabrieli

Sources:
Intabulation: GABRIELI 1596, 32r-34r.
Model: Rore, Ancor che col partire, adapted from Cirpriano de Rore, Opera omnia, ed.
Bernhard Meier, vol. 14, part 4 of Corpus mensurabilis musicae (Rome: American
Institute of Musicology, 1969).

3. Anon., A[ncor che col partire]

Sources:
Intabulation: La, 6v-7v.
Model: Rore, Ancor che col partire, adapted from Cirpriano de Rore, Opera omnia, ed.
Bernhard Meier, vol. 14, part 4 of Corpus mensurabilis musicae (Rome: American
Institute of Musicology, 1969).

5: measure not legible in facsimile.
15: measure not legible in facsimile.
20: second half of measure not legible in facsimile.

4. Sperindio Bertoldo, Ricercar del Terzo Tuono

Sources:
Intabulation: BERTOLDO 1591b, 20-23.
Model: Annibale Padovano, Il primo libro de ricercari a quattro voci (Venice: Gardano,
1556).

18: Right hand, dot on second beat, tenor tablature voice in source.

1
See the author’s personal website for additional intabulation models.
320

26: Right hand, third beat, c’ is whole note in source.
34: Left hand, fourth beat, B missing stem in source.
35: Left hand, second beat, G missing stem in source.
37: Left hand, third beat, c’ missing stem in source.

5. Anon., O s’io potessi Donna

Sources:
Intabulation: La, 3r-6r.
Model: Berchem, O s’io potessi Donna, adapted from Jacques Arcadelt, Opera omnia, ed.
Albert Seay, vol. 31, part 2 of Corpus Mensurabilis Musicae (NP: American Institute
of Musicology, 1970).

4: Last beat not clear in facsimile.
6: Right hand, last half of measure not clear in facsimile.
13: Right hand, third beat not clear in facsimile.
53: Right hand, first beat not clear in facsimile.

6. Gabrieli, Canzon Francese detta Orsu. Di Jacob. A Quatro voci.

Sources:
Intabulation: GABRIELI 1605b, 22r-26r.
Model: Crecquillon, Or sus a cop, qu’on se resveille!, adapted from Thomas Crecquillon,
Opera omnia, ed. Laura Youens and Barton Hudson, vol. 63, part 16 of Corpus
mensurabilis musicae (NP: American Institute of Musicology).

7. Anon., Se p[er] colpa del vo[stra] fiero sdegno

Sources:
Intabulation: Ca, fascicle 5, 22v-23r.
Model: Arcadelt, Se per colpa, transcription from Il primo libro di madrigali d’Archadelt, a
quatro con nuova gionta impressi (Venice: Gardano, 1539).

3: Left hand, d’s on first and third beat are c’s in source.
19: Right hand, fourth beat unreadable.
40: Right hand, alto and soprano tablature voices don’t line up vertically.
43: Right hand, third beat g breve in source.

321

8. Anon., Susanna

Sources:
Intabulation: Tr, 39r.
Model: Lassus, Susane un jour d’amour solicitée, adapted from Orlando di Lasso, Chansons,
ed. Jane Bernstein, vol. 14 of The Sixteenth-Century Chanson (New York: Garland,
1987).

5: Right hand, third beat, f’ and a’ are eighth notes in source.
5: Left hand, second beat, dotted c’ is quarter note in source.
6: Right hand, second beat, b ♭’ is half note in source.
16: Right hand, second beat, f#’ is quarter note in source.
21: Right hand, fourth beat, sixteenth note passage notated with eighth notes in source.
22: Left hand, third and fourth beats, eighth note passage notated with sixteenth notes in
source.
26: Right hand, third beat, g’ is f’ in source.
30: Right hand, first beat, a’ is b ♭’ in source.
32: Left hand, fourth beat, sixteenth notes are eighth notes in source.
42: Right hand, third beat, dotted quarter note is beamed with sixteenth-note passaggio in
source.
42: Right hand, third beat, f’ and e’ are eighth notes in source.
46: Right hand, second beat, f” has dot in source.
46: Right hand, fourth beat, c” is sixteenth note in source.
52: Right hand, second beat, notes crossed out in source.
55: Right hand, third and fourth beats, d’s are sixteenth notes in source.
59: Right hand, second beat, a’ has dot in source.
60: Left hand, sharp sign on b in source.
61: Right hand, second beat, c” is d” in source.
65: Left hand, second beat, b has sharp sign in source.
68: Right hand, second beat, c” is quarter note in source.
69: Left hand, first and second beats, eighth notes notated as sixteenths in source.
74: Right hand, first beat, beam missing between f” and g”.
74: Right hand, third and fourth beats, eighth note parallel sixth passage notated with
sixteenths in source.
75: Right hand, second beat, f’ is eighth note in source.

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Anon.
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2. Anchor che co'l partire. Madrigale a4.di Cipriano de Rore.
Tabulato da Andrea Gabrieli
Andrea Gabrieli
GABRIELI 1596
32r-34r
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˙
˙
˙ ˙
˙
˙
˙ .
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
ri tor
˙
˙
w
˙
˙ œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
w
˙
œ
r
œ #
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ a
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ a
r
œ
r
œ a
r
œ
r
œ a
r
œ
r
œ a
˙
˙ ˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙ ˙
W
no.
w
∑
˙
˙ Ó ˙
w
Ó
˙
w
w
w
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
œ
œ
˙ ˙
˙ ˙
Ó
˙
- - - - - - - - - - -
&
V
V
?
&
?
19
Ó ˙
˙
˙
E co sì
19
˙
˙
œ
˙ œ
19
˙
˙
. œ
j
œ
œ
œ
19
˙
˙
∑
19
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
œ
˙ œ
19
˙
˙ .
œ
j
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
. œ
j
œ
œ
œ
œ œ
˙
mil l'e mil le vol t'io gior
œ
œ
œ œ
˙
˙
œ œ
˙
˙
. œ
J
œ
Ó Œ
œ
˙
˙
. œ
j
œ
œ
œ
œ œ
j
œ
j
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ œ
˙
œ
Œ
˙
Œ
œ
j
œ
j
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
.
œ
j
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
no, mil l'e mil le vol t'il
Ó
˙
˙
œ
œ
œ œ
œ
œ
œ œ . œ
j
œ
.
œ
J
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
j
œ
j
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
.
œ
j
œ
œ œ
œ œ ˙
œ œ
œ œ
˙
œ
œ
œ œ
.
œ
j
œ
.
œ
J
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
- - - - - - - - - -
327
&
V
V
?
&
?
22
˙
˙
Ó
˙
gior no Par
22
œ œ
œ
œ
œ œ
œ
˙
22
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
22
.
œ
J
œ
œ
œ
œ œ
˙
22
˙
˙
˙
J
œ
J
œ
œ
œ .
œ
J
œ
R
œ
R
œ
R
œ
R
œ
˙
22
.
œ
j
œ
˙
˙
˙
œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
tir da voi cor
˙
˙
˙
˙
Œ
˙
˙
œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
œ ˙
˙
œ
˙
Ó
˙
˙
˙
w
w
re i:
œ
œ
˙ œ
œ
˙
œ
˙
œ œ
œ ˙
œ a
˙
˙
w
˙ ˙
˙ ˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
œ ˙
˙
œ
r
œ
r
œ a
r
œ
r
œ a
r
œ
r
œ a
r
œ
r
œ a
˙
˙
˙ ˙
- - - - - -
&
V
V
?
&
?
25
w
∑
25
˙
˙
œ
œ
˙
25
w
∑
25
˙
˙
œ
œ
˙
25
˙ ˙
œ
œ
˙
˙ ˙
25
˙ ˙
œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
œ #
œ
˙
˙
Tan to son dol ci
˙ Ó ∑
˙
œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
Ó Ó
˙
˙
œ #
œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
Ó
˙
˙
˙
gli ri tor
˙
œ
œ
˙
˙
∑
œ #
œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
œ
œ
˙
˙
œ #
œ
˙
˙
˙
- - - -
328
&
V
V
?
&
?
28
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
ni mie
28
Ó
˙ œ
œ
˙
28
.
˙ œ
˙
˙
28
˙
˙
˙
˙
28
˙ .
˙
œ ˙
.
˙ œ
˙
28
œ
j
œ #
j
œ a
j
œ
j
œ a
r
œ
r
œ a
r
œ
r
œ a
˙
˙
˙ œ œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
w
i,
˙ w
˙
˙
˙ Ó
˙
w
w
˙
˙ #
w
˙ ˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
w
˙ ˙
Ó ˙
˙
˙
E co sì
Œ
œ
˙
œ
˙ œ
˙
˙
. œ
j
œ
œ
œ
w
∑
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
œ
˙ œ
˙
˙ .
œ
j
œ
œ
œ ˙ ˙
- - - - - - - - - - - -
&
V
V
?
&
?
31
. œ
j
œ
œ
œ
œ œ
˙
mil l'e mil le vol t'il gior
31
œ
œ
œ œ
˙
˙
31
œ œ
˙
˙
. œ
J
œ
31
Ó Œ
œ
˙
˙
31
. œ
j
œ
œ
œ œ
œ œ
j
œ
j
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
œ
œ
œ œ
˙
œ
31
˙
Œ
œ
j
œ
j
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
.
œ
j
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
no mil l'e mil le vol t'il
Ó
˙
˙
œ
œ
œ œ
œ
œ
œ œ . œ
j
œ
.
œ
J
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
j
œ
j
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
.
œ
j
œ
œ œ
œ œ ˙
œ œ
œ œ
œ
œ
œ
.
œ
j
œ œ œ
˙
œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
Ó
˙
gior no Par
œ œ
œ
œ
œ œ
œ
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
.
œ
J
œ
œ
œ
œ œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
J
œ
J
œ
œ
œ .
œ
J
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
˙
.
œ
j
œ
œ œ
˙
œ œ
œ
œ
œ œ
˙
˙
- - - - - - - - - - -
329
&
V
V
?
&
?
34
˙
˙
˙
˙
tir da voi vor
34
˙
˙
˙
˙
34
Œ
˙
˙
œ
˙
34
˙
˙
˙
˙
34
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
34
œ ˙
˙
œ
˙
Ó
˙
˙
˙
w
w
re i:
œ
œ
˙ œ
œ
˙
œ
˙
œ œ
œ ˙
œ a
˙
˙
w
˙ ˙
˙ ˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
œ ˙
˙
œ
j
œ
j
œ #
r
œ
r
œ a
r
œ #
r
œ
˙
˙
˙ ˙
w
∑
˙
˙
œ
œ
˙
w
∑
˙
˙
œ
œ
˙
˙ ˙
œ
œ
˙
˙ ˙
˙ ˙
œ
œ
˙
˙
- - - -
&
V
V
?
&
?
37
˙
œ #
œ
˙
˙
Tan to son dol ci
37
˙ Ó ∑
37
˙
œ
œ
˙
˙
37
˙
Ó Ó
˙
37
˙
œ #
œ
˙
˙
˙
37
˙
œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
Ó
˙
˙
˙
gli ri tor
˙
œ
œ
˙
˙
Œ œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
œ #
œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
œ #
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
œ
˙
˙
˙
˙ .
˙
œ ˙
ni
˙
˙
˙
˙
. w
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙ .
˙
œ ˙
w ˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙ #
˙
˙
- - - - - -
330
&
V
V
?
&
?
40
œ
œ a ˙
w
mie
40
W
40
˙
˙
w
40
w
w
40
œ
j
œ #
j
œ
r
œ
r
œ #
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ a
r
œ
r
œ a
w
w
w
40 ˙ ˙
. œ
j
œ
j
œ
j
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
w #
∑
i.
w
∑
w ∑
w
∑
W
W
W
#
W
W
- - - - - - -
331
&
V
V
?
&
?
C
C
C
C
C
C
Ó
w
˙
An chor
w
. ˙
œ
∑
∑
Ó
w
˙
˙ œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙ œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
che col par ti
˙
˙
w
∑
w
∑ Ó
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
w
w
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
∑
re
w
∑
.
˙
œ
˙
˙
. ˙ œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
w
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
. ˙
œ
. ˙ œ
˙
˙
- - - - - - - -
&
V
V
?
&
?
4
∑
w
Io
4
Ó
w
˙
4
w
˙
˙
4
w
w
4
∑
..
m
w
Ó w
˙
4
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
w
w
˙
w
˙
mi sen ta
w
˙
˙
˙
˙
w
w
˙
˙
˙
˙
∑
˙
w
˙
mo ri re,
w w
˙
˙
w
œ œ
˙ #
w
˙
m
w
m
˙
˙
w w
m
˙
w
J
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ #
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
w
Ó
˙
. ˙
œ
Par tir vor
Ó
˙
.
˙
œ
˙
˙ ∑
w
∑
Ó
˙ #
m
œ
œ n
œ
œ b
œ
œ
˙
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
w
∑
˙
∑
- - - - - - -
332
3. A[ncor che col partire] (fragment)
Anon.
La.
6v-7v.
&
V
V
?
&
?
8
˙ a
˙
˙
˙
rei o'gn hor; o gni
8
˙ ˙
˙
˙
8
Ó ˙
. ˙
œ
8
Ó
˙
.
˙
œ
8
œ #
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
œ
œ n
œ
œ
œ b
˙
˙
8
˙ ˙ .
˙
œ
Ó
˙ .
˙
œ
Ó
˙
˙ .
˙
œ
˙
gni mo men
.
˙ œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
œ
œ œ œ
˙ #
˙
œ
œ N
œ œ
˙ .
˙
m
œ
˙
. ˙ œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
œ
œ œ œ
œ #
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
œ
œ
œ œ
˙
Ó
˙
œ
œ
to: Tan t'è il pia
˙
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
∑
˙
˙
∑
˙ Ó
˙
œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
∑
∑
m
- - - - - - - - -
&
V
V
?
&
?
11
œ
œ
˙
˙ Ó
cer ch'io sen to,
11
˙
˙
∑
11
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
11
Ó
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
11
œ œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙ Ó
˙
11
˙
˙
œ œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
œ
œ
œ
m
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ œ
Ó
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
Tant t'è il pia cer ch'io
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
Ó Ó
˙
w
˙
Ó
Ó
˙
œ
œ
œ œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
œ
œ
œ œ
œ
œ
œ
œ œ
œ
œ
œ
w
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙ ∑
sen to
˙
Ó ∑
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
∑
˙
Ó
˙
˙ #
œ
œ
œ œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
œ
œ
œ
m
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
- - - -
333
&
V
V
?
&
?
14
Ó
˙
˙
˙
De la vi
14
Ó
˙ ˙
˙
14
Ó
w
˙
14
˙ w
˙
14
Ó ˙
˙
˙
Ó
˙ ˙
˙
˙
14
Ó
.
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙ w
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
ta ch'ac
˙ ˙
˙
˙
w
˙
˙
w
˙
˙
œ
Œ Ó ∑
∑
˙
w
˙
qui sto nel
˙
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
w
w
˙
˙
˙
w
˙
˙
˙
œ
œ
˙
˙
.
˙
œ
w
˙
˙
˙ .
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
ri tor
˙
˙
w
˙
˙ œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
w
˙ .
˙
œ #
œ
m
œ
œ
œ
˙ .
˙
œ
˙
m
˙
w
˙
˙
w
- - - - - - - - - - -
&
V
V
?
&
?
18
W
no.
18
w
∑
18
˙
˙ Ó ˙
18
w
Ó
˙
18
W
w
∑
18
˙
˙
Ó
. œ
œ
œ
w
Ó ˙
Ó ˙
˙
˙
E co sì
˙
˙
œ
˙ œ
˙
˙
. œ
j
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
∑
Ó
.
œ
œ
œ
œ
m
œ
œ
œ
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
œ
˙ œ
˙
˙
.
œ
J
œ
œ
œ
. œ
j
œ
œ
œ
œ œ
˙
mil l'e mil le vol t'io gior
œ
œ
œ œ
˙
˙
œ œ
˙
˙
. œ
J
œ
Ó Œ
œ
˙
˙
. œ
j
œ
œ
œ
m
œ
œ
œ œ
˙
œ œ
Œ
œ
∑
Ó
˙
.
œ
j
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
no, mil l'e mil le vol t'il
Ó
˙
˙
œ
œ
œ œ
œ
œ
œ œ . œ
j
œ
.
œ
J
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
.
œ
j
œ
. œ
j
œ
œ
œ
Ó
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ œ
œ
œ
œ œ
.
œ
j
œ
.
œ
J
œ
m
œ
œ
˙
˙
- - - - - - - -
334
&
V
V
?
&
?
22
˙
˙
Ó
˙
gior no Par
22
œ œ
œ
œ
œ œ
œ
˙
22
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
22
.
œ
J
œ
œ
œ
œ œ
˙
22
˙
˙ Ó
˙
œ œ
œ
œ
˙
œ
˙
22
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙ .
œ
J
œ
œ
œ
œ œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
tir da voi cor
˙
˙
˙
˙
Œ
˙
˙
œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
Œ
œ œ
˙
œ
˙
œ œ
˙
˙
˙
- - - -
335
&
V
V
?
&
?
C
C
C
C
C
C
∑
.
˙
œ
˙
˙
∑
∑
∑
. ˙
œ
˙
˙
∑
.
˙
œ
˙
˙
. œ
J
œ
œ
œ
∑
∑
∑
.
˙
œ
˙
˙
.
œ
j
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
∑
∑
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
„
w .
˙
œ
˙
. ˙
œ
˙
∑
.
˙
œ
∑
w .
˙
œ
˙
.
˙
œ
˙
∑
. ˙
œ
˙
w
˙
˙
˙
w
˙
˙
˙
˙
∑
˙
˙
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
j
œ
˙
˙
˙
w
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙ w
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
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336
4. Ricercar del Terzo Tuono
Bertoldo
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341
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342
5. O s'io potessi Donna
Anon.
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346
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
350
6. Canzon Francese detta Orsu. Di Iacob. A Quatro voci.
Andrea Gabrieli
GABRIELI 1605b
22r-26
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351
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9
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˙
˙
w
- - - - - - - - - - -
&
V
V
?
&
?
11
˙
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
eux, le chant me lo di
11
˙
˙
w
11
w
Ó
˙
11
˙ ˙
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11
R
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11
˙
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w
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eux, le chant me lo
Ó
˙
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r
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œ œ
˙
˙ b
- - - - - - - -
352
&
V
V
?
&
?
13
œ
œ w
˙
di
13
w
w
13
˙
˙
w
13
˙
˙
w
13
r
œ
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13 ˙
˙
w
˙
˙
w
˙
Œ
œ ˙ ˙
eux Du ros si
˙
˙ œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙ ˙ ˙
Ó
˙ ˙
˙
Œ
œ ˙ ˙ ˙
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j
œ
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r
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j
œ
˙
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
&
V
V
?
&
?
15
˙
˙
˙
˙
gnol qui ne som
15
˙
˙ a
w
15
˙
˙
˙
˙
15
˙
˙
˙
˙
15
˙
r
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˙
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˙
15
r
œ
r
œ
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˙
r
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˙ ˙
meil
. w
˙
W
W
r
œ
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w ˙
w
w
w
w
- - - - - - - - - - - -
353
&
V
V
?
&
?
17
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
le, ne som
17
w
˙
˙
17
.
˙
œ
˙
˙
17
w
˙
˙
17
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w
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˙
17
r
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œ
œ w
˙ a
meil
w
w
.
˙
œ
w
w
w
r
œ
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r
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r
œ #
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r
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œ a
r
œ a
r
œ a
w
w
w
w
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
&
V
V
?
&
?
19
˙
Œ
œ ˙ ˙
le Et va chan
19
Ó
˙
˙ ˙
19
˙
˙ ˙ ˙
19
Ó
˙
˙
˙
19
j
œ
r
œ
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Œ
œ ˙ ˙
˙
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19
˙
r
œ
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tant en son chant
˙ ˙ ˙
˙
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- - -
354
&
V
V
?
&
?
21
˙
˙
˙
˙
gra ti eulx, en
21
˙
˙
w
21
˙
˙
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21
˙
˙
w
21
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21
r
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œ
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œ
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œ
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œ
R
œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
son chant gra
Ó
˙ ˙
˙
˙
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˙
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Ó
˙
˙
˙
r
œ
r
œ
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˙
˙
- - - - - - - - - - -
&
V
V
?
&
?
23
œ
œ w
˙ a
ti
23
˙
˙
w
23
œ
œ œ
œ
œ
w
23
˙
˙
w
23
r
œ
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œ
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œ
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œ #
R
œ
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œ
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œ
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œ a
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œ
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œ
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œ
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œ
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œ a
23
˙
˙
w ˙
˙
˙
w
w ˙ œ œ
eulx: Ung bon a
w ˙ œ
œ
w
˙ œ
œ
∑
˙ œ
œ
w
˙
r
œ
r
œ
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w
˙
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œ
œ
œ œ
œ
- - - - - - - - - - - -
355
&
V
V
?
&
?
25
œ
œ œ
œ
my, ung bon a
25
˙
˙
25
œ
œ œ
œ
25
œ œ œ
œ
25
r
œ
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25
œ œ œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
my pour l'aul tre
˙
˙
w
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙ ˙
˙
˙
r
œ
r
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˙
˙
- - - -
&
V
V
?
&
?
27
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
veil
27
˙
˙
w
27
œ
œ
œ
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œ
27
w
.
˙
œ
27
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27
w
˙
w
w
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
356
&
V
V
?
&
?
28
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
28
. ˙
œ
˙
˙
28
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
28
˙
˙
˙
˙
28
r
œ
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œ
28
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
&
V
V
?
&
?
29
œ
œ w
˙ a
29
˙
˙
w
29
œ
œ œ
œ
œ
w
29
w
w
29
r
œ
r
œ
r
œ
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œ #
r
œ
r
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œ
r
œ a
r
œ
r
œ a
r
œ
r
œ a
29
w
w
w
w
∑
le,
w ∑
w
∑
∑
W
W
W
W
W
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
357
&
&
V
?
&
?
&
C
C
C
C
C
C
C
w ˙ ˙
E per col
w ˙ ˙
w ˙ ˙
w ˙ ˙
w ˙ ˙
w ˙ ˙
w ˙ ˙
w ˙ ˙
∑
.
w ˙
pa del
. w
˙
.
w
˙
. w
˙
w ˙ ˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
w ˙
˙
w ˙
˙
∑
. w ˙
vo stro
. w ˙
. w
˙ b
.
w
˙ b
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙ ˙
w ˙
˙ b
w ˙ ˙
w ˙
˙ b
∑
˙
w
˙
fie ro sde
˙
˙
w
˙
˙ œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
w
˙
w
˙
˙
˙
∑
˙
˙
˙
˙
w
∑
- - - -
358
7. Se p[er] colpa del vo[stra] fiero sdegno
Anon.
Ca fascicle V
22v-23r
&
&
V
?
&
?
&
5
W
gno
5
w
w
5
˙
˙
.
˙
œ
5
w
w
5
w w
‰
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
w
5
w
œ
œ
œ
œ
w
w
5
∑
Ó
˙ ˙ ˙
il do lor
Ó
˙
˙
˙
w Ó
˙
Ó
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙ ˙ ˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
∑
˙
˙
w
che m'af flig
˙
w
˙
˙
˙ ˙
˙
˙
˙
w
˙
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
w
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
w
∑
w Ó
˙
ge ma
w
Ó
˙
˙ ˙
Ó
˙
w
Ó
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
w ˙
˙
w ˙
˙
˙
˙
∑
- - - - -
359
&
&
V
?
&
?
&
9
˙ ˙
w
don na mi
9
˙ ˙
w
9
˙ ˙ w
9
˙ ˙
w
9
˙ ˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙ ˙ w
9 ˙ ˙
w
˙ ˙
w
9
∑
˙
˙
˙
˙
tras por t'a
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙ ˙
˙ ˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙ ˙
˙ ˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
∑
˙
˙
.
˙
œ
l'al tra stig
˙
˙
w
œ
œ w
˙
˙
˙
w
˙
˙
.
˙
œ
˙
w
˙ #
˙
˙
w
˙
˙
w
∑
?
˙
˙
Ó
˙
ge non
w
Ó
˙
w
Ó ˙
w
Ó
˙
˙
w
˙
w ˙
˙
. w
˙
w
˙
- - - - -
360
&
&
V
?
&
?
?
13
˙ ˙ w
hau ro duol
13
˙ ˙
w
13
˙ ˙
w
13
˙ ˙
w
13
˙ ˙ w
˙ ˙
w
13
˙ ˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
13
˙ ˙
w
˙ ˙
w
del mio
˙ ˙
w
˙ ˙
w
˙ ˙
w
˙ ˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙ ˙
w
˙ ˙
w
˙ ˙
w
˙ ˙
˙
˙
sup pli tio
˙ ˙
˙
˙
˙
˙ b
˙
˙ A
˙
˙ b
˙
˙
˙ ˙
˙
˙
˙
˙ b
˙
˙
˙ ˙
˙
˙
˙
˙ b
˙
˙
˙
˙
w
in deg
w
w
œ
œ
w
˙
w
w
˙
˙
w
∑ ‰
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
w
w
w
w
- - - - -
361
&
&
V
?
&
?
?
17
w
Ó
˙
no ne
17
w
Ó
˙
17
.
˙
œ
w
17
w
Ó
˙
17
w ˙
˙
w ˙
˙
17
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
17
w ˙
˙
˙ ˙
˙
˙
de l'e ter no
˙
˙
˙
˙
Ó
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙ ˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
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˙
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˙
w
w
fo co
˙
˙
w
˙
˙
˙ ˙
w
w
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
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œ
œ
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œ
œ
w
w
˙
˙
˙
w
w
w
Ó
˙ ˙ ˙
ma di voi
Ó
˙ ˙ ˙
Ó
˙ ˙ ˙
Ó
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˙ ˙ ˙
˙
˙ ˙ ˙
˙
˙ ˙ ˙
˙
˙ ˙ ˙
- - - - -
362
&
&
V
?
&
?
?
21
. w
˙
che ver
21
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˙
21
. w ˙
21
.
w
˙
21
œ
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w ˙ ˙
21
w ˙
˙
21
w ˙
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˙
re te a si mil
˙
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œ ˙
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lo co
w
w
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w
w
w
w
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per che so
w
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w
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Ó ˙ ˙ ˙
w ˙ ˙
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w ˙
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∑
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ven te in voi mi
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∑
- - - - - - - -
363
&
&
V
?
&
?
?
26
w
˙
˙
ran do fis
26
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
26
˙
˙ ˙
˙
26
∑
26
w
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26 ˙
œ
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œ
. ˙
26
∑
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w
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w
w
œ
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w
∑
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˙
so per
w
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w
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∑
w
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
∑ Ó
˙
w ˙
˙ w
w
˙
˙ ˙
∑
- - - - - -
364
&
&
V
?
&
?
?
29
˙ ˙
˙
˙
vir tu del bel
29
˙
.
˙
œ
˙
vir tu del
29
˙ ˙
˙ ˙
vir tu del bel
29
˙
˙
˙ ˙
vir tu del bel
29
˙ ˙
˙
˙
˙ ˙
w
29
˙
˙
∑
˙
˙
w
29
∑
w w
vi so
˙
˙
w
bel vi
w
w
vi
w
˙
˙
vi so pe
w w
Œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
w
w ˙ ˙
w
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∑
Ó
˙ ˙ ˙
pe na non
˙ ˙
˙ ˙
so pe na non
w
Ó
˙
so pe
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na non fia la
˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
˙
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∑
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w
sia la giu
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w
fia la giu
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na non fia la
w
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giu che'l
œ
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œ
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w
w
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w
w
∑
- - -
- -
-
-
- -
- - - -
- -
365
&
&
V
?
&
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?
33
˙
˙
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˙
che'l cor ni
33
∑ Ó
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33
˙
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˙
33
˙
w
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33
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w
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33
˙ Ó Ó ˙
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w
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33
∑
W
w
toc chi
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w
w
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w
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che'l
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w
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w
w
w
∑
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cor mi toc
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Ó
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∑
- - - -
366
&
&
V
?
&
?
?
37
w
w
chi
37
w
w
37
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37
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37
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37
w
w
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37
∑
Ó
˙ w
sol' un
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œ
œ
œ
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∑
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tor ment' hau
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∑
- - - -
367
&
&
V
?
&
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?
41
Ó
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˙
di chiu der
41
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41
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41
w
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41
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w
41
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w
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41
∑
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w
gli oc
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w
œ
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w
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w
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chi di
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chiu der gli oc
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W
W
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- - - -
368
&
&
V
V
?
&
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b
b
b
b
b
b
b
C
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w
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Su sa
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∑
.
˙ œ
œ
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œ
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∑ Ó
œ
œ
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˙
w
ne un jour
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w
∑ Ó
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∑
∑
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w
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w
w
d'a
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.
w
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∑ Ó
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- - - - - - - - - - - -
369
8. Susanna
Anon.
Tr, 39r.
&
&
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V
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&
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b
b
b
b
b
b
b
4
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4
.
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té e, Su
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d'a mour so
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- -
370
&
&
V
V
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b
b
b
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b
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10
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li ci té
10
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10
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- - - - - - - - - - - - -
&
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b
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13
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13
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œ
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deux viel lards con
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.
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w
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w
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voi tans sa beau
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n
w
w
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- - - -
371
&
&
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V
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b
b
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16
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en son
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∑
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- - - - - -
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b
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19
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19
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19
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19
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con for té e
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Fut en son
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w
˙
- - - - - - -
372
&
&
V
V
?
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b
b
b
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b
b
b
22
w
∑
coeur
22
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25
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con for té
25
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25
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25
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25
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- - - - - - - - - - - -
373
&
&
V
V
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&
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b
b
b
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b
b
b
28
w
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28
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- - - - -
&
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V
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b
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31
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31
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31
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382

Abstract (if available)

Abstract This dissertation examines the relationship between Italian keyboard tablature (IKT) and the unwritten tradition in the sixteenth century. Used to notate the majority of early modern Italian keyboard music, IKT appears similar to modern notation but in many ways behaves more like Italian lute tablature. Its particular characteristics are directly related to the process of intabulation, but I also argue that they strongly reflect the influence of the unwritten tradition. In addition, I argue that IKT’s unwritten conventions and laws influenced the style of the music it transmits, giving it a degree of agency in the compositional process itself. IKT sits squarely at the point at which intabulation process, compositional process, notational convention, and the unwritten traditions of keyboard playing join. ❧ Also situated at this same nexus is keyboard thinking, the overarching analytical construct used in this study. Keyboard thinking attempts to partly reconstruct the mindset of the cinquecento keyboardist. It is particularly used in Chapter 2, which attempts to reconstruct a historical technique of improvisation involving the use of the triadic accompaniment of melodies and melodic fragments. I argue that this technique strongly shapes IKT’s conventions. ❧ In turn, in Chapter 1 I investigate these conventions through the lens of intabulation process. I examine the extent to which IKT’s rules were understood as a distinct system, and I argue that they were deeply tied to the physical actions of playing. In Chapter 3 I explore the influence of notation on composition from a specific angle: that intabulations in sixteenth-century prints can be read as a case of self-fashioning, as intabulators either exploited or pushed back against IKT’s conventions to demonstrate specific aspects of the intabulatory art.