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November 2001 Program Notes
Welcome to All the Pleasures (Purcell)
by Mary Burke
Henry Purcell's life bears certain resemblances to Mozart's: Both men revealed their talents at an early age; both were masters of multiple genres, working with equal ease in the music of court, church, and theater; and both died in their mid-30s, at the height of their powers.
The exact year of Purcell's birth remains somewhat doubtful. Whatever the date, the timing was indisputably superb, for in 1660 the English musical scene was revitalized with the restoration of Charles II to the throne. Cromwell's Commonwealth had all but stifled cultural life in England: Anglican worship was forbidden and church music in general severely limited; theaters were closed altogether; singing and dancing were condemned; Cromwell even succeeded in cancelling Christmas celebrations by parliamentary resolution.
During this period, Charles had been living in France, along with many of his courtiers and musicians. There he became familiar with Lully's music and the thriving musical culture at the court of Versailles. Upon his return to England, Charles did what he could to copy the Versailles scene, such as forming an ensemble of 24 violins à la the Violons du Roy, and he favored tuneful and dancelike music over the more traditional and "intellectual" English contrapuntal style.
When Purcell made his entrance into musical life, he stepped into an extraordinarily rich and vibrant milieu where he could learn both the older and the more trendy styles, and could put them to work in a variety of contexts.
His father and uncle both belonged to the Gentlemen of the Chapel Royal, and perhaps their status helped to get young Henry admitted to the Children of the Chapel Royal in 1668. However he happened to get in, Henry proved very quickly that his talent made him a worthy member of the choir. Choristers received both musical and general education, and had other responsibilities besides church music. In 1671, the Chapel Royal, including the boys, began to perform in public theaters in addition to their ecclesiastical duties. The choristers were also encouraged to put their lessons into practice by composing pieces, and Purcell began almost immediately after his admission. His earliest surviving composition, written when he was just eight years old, is believed to be a song that appears in Playford's Catch That Catch Can (this makes him rather a late bloomer compared to Mozart, but the achievement is still impressive). His first known occasional work came in 1670, and only its title has survived: "Address of the Children of the Chapel Royal to the King...composed by Master Purcell."
His career as a chorister ended in 1673 when teenage hormones took their toll on his voice. For several years he held various musical odd jobs, such as copying parts, organ tuning, and instrument maintenance. His first real break came in 1679 with his appointment to the post of organist at Westminster Abbey, replacing John Blow. He held a concurrent appointment as composer for the king's violins, but the bulk of his work was in ecclesiastical music. He officially joined the Gentlemen of the Chapel Royal in 1682, and for the next few years his duties as court composer took precedence over his work for the church.
When Charles II died in 1685, the musical scene at court underwent something of a reorganization, as the Catholic James II placed far less importance on church music. The exile of James in 1688 placed Purcell in the employ of William and Mary, under whose rule musical life at court became less active in general. This was not altogether a bad thing, for it gave Purcell the chance to devote much more of his time to theater music, while still contributing occasional works to the court as needed (including the Funeral Sentences, which were heard during the funeral of Diana, Princess of Wales).
When Purcell died rather suddenly at the age of 36, he was sincerely mourned as "our musical Shakespeare" and the "Orpheus Brittanicus." His body of work includes music in practically every genre, speaking in different voices but always unmistakably informed by a unique creative genius.
By the time Purcell reached adulthood, he had spent much of his life absorbing both current and long-established musical practices. Tonight's program comprises works that arose from the older English school of contrapuntal instrumental writing, the Lullian dance suite, and the English theatrical and masquing traditions.
Even if he had left no other music behind, Purcell's 15 fantasias for viols, written when he was only 21, would suffice to ensure his place among the immortals of English music—and yet, the evidence strongly suggests that he wrote the pieces for his own amusement, or perhaps to practice this particular type of composition. The viol had been the instrument for private music-making in England in the 16th and 17th centuries, which gave rise to an enormous repertoire for groups of three to six viols. The clear and delicate sound of the instrument was ideal for dense counterpoint of the type that characterizes fantasias of the time. One very popular subgenre was the In Nomine fantasia, in which one voice has a simple line of plainchant to play—which comes in very handy when the ensemble contains a weak player. Purcell went the In Nomine form one better in the fantasia Z. 745 by giving the fifth voice a single note to play (it's a C) for the whole piece. These fantasias show very clearly the influence of Matthew Locke (with whom Purcell might have studied) in their shifting tempi and affects, as well as their often spiky melodic lines; we can also hear echoes of the extraordinary Willam Lawes in the lush sonorities and "modern"-sounding dissonances.
The G major suite, on the other hand, is decidedly in the Lullian mode: an overture characterized by dotted rhythms, followed by a series of typical dances. While these pieces could doubtless have passed muster at Versailles, their English flavor is unmistakable.
One aspect of French musical life did not find ready acceptance during the Restoration: opera. As a librettist of the time observed, "Experience hath taught us that our English genius will not relish that perpetual singing." Thanks to that "genius," English musical theater stuck closer to the masque tradition, and therefore favored adaptations of plays with various musical interpolations. Purcell wrote incidental music for dozens of productions of this type, including The Gordian Knot Unty'd, Oedipus, and The Fool's Preferment.
Although several of Purcell's works are often called operas for the sake of convenience, Dido and Aeneas is the only one of them that really deserves the name. The others are more accurately called semi-operas, which take the masque-oriented formula and add more vocal music. The combination was not always satisfying, as there was often little formal coherence between the musical episodes and the drama. The Fairy Queen, for example, contains some of Purcell's finest music, but it must be said that the play might be better off without it, and vice versa. It is a very loose adaptation of A Midsummer Night's Dream, but the anonymous author seems to have laid on the musical moments at random, rather than conceiving them as an integral part of the action. King Arthur, or The British Worthy, boasts a libretto by the eminent poet John Dryden, who had a better notion of how to blend music and storytelling; as in The Fairy Queen, much of the music belongs to scenes involving magic and enchantment. Whatever the dramaturgical shortcomings of these works, however, they clearly appealed to Purcell's genius, and they inspired a body of delightful music that stands on its own merits.
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