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The Fantasias of John Dowland An Analysis Thesis

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100% found this document useful (2 votes)
903 views185 pages

The Fantasias of John Dowland An Analysis Thesis

Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
Available Formats
Download as PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
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N8I

THE FANTASIAS OF JOHN DOWLAND:

AN ANALYSIS

THESIS

Presented to the Graduate Council of the

North Texas State University in Partial

Fulfillment of the Requirements

For the Degree of

MASTER OF MUSIC

By

William J. Walker, B.M., B.M.E.

Denton, Texas

August, 1986
Walker, William J., The Fantasias of John Dowland:

An Analysis. Master of Music, (Theory), August, 1986, 178

pp., 35 examples, 2 tables, 5 figures, bibliography, 27

titles.

In spite of an increasing interest in the analysis of

Renaissance music by contemporary theorists, few analyses of

lute music exist. It is hoped that this thesis will serve

to open a new area of analysis to scholars of Renaissance

music.

Chapter I deals with the background information nec-

essary for the analysis, including Dowland's biography, lute

history, technique, and notation, and the practice of

modality on the lute. An overview of Dowland's music,

especially the solo lute music, ends the chapter. Chapter

II traces the form and development of the fantasia and

surveys Dowland's seven fantasias. In Chapters III-V, the

works are divided according to mode and analyzed in terms of

counterpoint, dissonance, motivic development and modality.

Chapter VI provides concluding remarks.


CONTENTS

Page
TABLE OF EXAMPLES . . . . . . . . . . v

TABLE OF FIGURES . . . . . . . . . vii

Chapter

I. INTRODUCTION AND HISTORICAL

BACKGROUND . . . . . . . . . . 1

John Dowland the Lutenist (1563-1626) . 3


The Lute: Its History, Technique, and
Notation . . . . . . . . . 13
Tablature . . . . . . . . . 17
The Lute and Modality . . . . . . . 20
Dowland's Music . . . . . . . . . 23
The Music for Solo Lute . . . . . . 26

II. THE DEVELOPMENT AND FORM OF THE


FANTASIA . . . . . . . . . . 30

Dowland's Fantasias . . . . . . . 34
The Fantasias and Modality . . . . . 35
The Form of the Fantasia . . . . . 40

III. DOWLAND'S ONLY MAJOR THIRD MODE


FANTASIA . . . . . . . . . . 43

Counterpoint . . . . . . . . . . 45
Motivic Development . . . . . . . 54
Modality in 1 . . .P. . . . . . 62
Contrapuntal Tension on the
Lute . . . . . . . . . . . 64

IV. FANTASIAS IN MINOR-THIRD MODES . . . . 68

Initial Points of Imitation . . . . . 74


Counterpoint . . . . . . . . . . 79
Dissonance . . . . . . . . . 85
Motivic Development . . . . . . . 97
Finalesin . . . . . . . . . . 112
Conclusion . . . . . . . . . .112

iii
V. FANTASIAS IN CHROMATIC MINOR-THIRD
MODES .0 .0 .0 . . . . . 0. 0.114

Counterpoint .. 118
Dissonance .. 134
Motivic Development 151
Modality 156
Conclusion 167

VI. CONCLUSION . . . . . . . . . . . 169

BIBLIOGRAPHY . . . . 176

iv
TABLE OF EXAMPLES

Example Page
Chapter I

1. Italian tablature . . . . . . . . 18

2. French tablature . . . 20

Chapter III

3. Accented passing tones in P. 1


(mm. 24-25) . . . . . . . . . 48

4. P. 1, m. 83, Upper neighboring


tone . . . . . . . . . . . 49

5. Types of Suspensions in P. 1 . . . . . 51

6. Portamenti Without Suspensions . . . . . 54

7. Development of Motive "A". . . . . . . 56

8. Development of Motive "B". . . . . . . 59

9. Development of Motive "C". . . . . . . 61

10. P. 1, mm. 31-33, movement of fast passages


from one voice to another . . . . 65

11. P. 1, mm. 81-82, 12/8 texture . . . . . 66

12. Scalar Passages . . . . . . . . . . 66

Chapter IV

13. Points for P. 4 through P. 7 . . . . . 75

14. Exchanges of Rapidly Moving Lines from One


Voice to Another . . . . . . . 80

15. Scalar Passages . . . . . . . . . . 83

16. Accented Passing Tones in the Minor-Third-


Mode Fantasias . . . . . . . 86

17. Upper Neighboring Tones in the Minor-Third-


Mode Fantasias . . . . . . . 88

V
18. Uncommon Suspensions in the Minor-Third- 92
Mode Fantasias . . .

.
19. Cross Relations . . . . . . 95

.
20. P. 5, Motivic Transformation . 99

.
21. P. 6, Motivic Repetition . 103

.
22. P. 7, Initial Motivic Development 106

.
Chapter V

23. P. 2 and P. 3, Points, with First


Imitation . . . . . 119

.
24. Type 1 Chromatic Movement . . 122

.
25. Type 2 Chromatic Movement . . 124

.
26. Type 3 Chromatic Movement . . . 126

.
27. Consecutive Perfect Concords in the Chromatic
Fantasias . . . . . .
.
128

28. Cross Relations in the Chromatic


Fantasias . . . . . . 138
.

29. Suspensions in the Chromatic Fantasias 143

30. Consonant Fourth Preparations of


Suspensions . . . . . . 146
.

31. Skips Away From Dissonance, Successive


Discords . . . . . . . 149
.

32. P. 2, mm. 17-20, Fragmentation of the


Point . . . . . . . . . . 153
.

33. Tonal Emphasis in the Bassus . . 159


.

34. P. 2 mm. 35-36, tablature and


transcription . . . . . 160
.

35. Accented Passing and Neighboring


Tones in P. 3 . . . . . 165
.

vi
TABLE OF FIGURES

Figure Page

1. Formal Chart for P. 1 . . . . . . . . 43

2. Formal Charts for P. 4 through P. 7 . . . 68

3. Order of Imitative Entries in the Minor-


Third-Mode Fantasias . . . . . . 78

4. Formal Charts for P. 2 and P. 3 . . . . 115

5. P. 3, frequency of statements of
the point . . . . . . . . . 155

vii
1

Chapter I

INTRODUCTION AND HISTORICAL BACKGROUND

The lute has become increasingly popular in recent

years. Guitarists, in particular, have branched out to the

lute as a second instrument and found in its literature a

rich source for expanding their repertories. Some scholars

anr performer- now specialize in authentic lute technique,

often restricting themselves to the performance practice of

a specific era, and many luthiers build faithful repro-

ductions of museum specimens. However, despite this new

appreciation of the historical aspect, little attention has

been directed toward music written for the lute. Indeed,

many articles and dissertations on early sources of lute

music exist, but few of them deal with any detailed analysis

of the literature.

Perhaps one reason for the lack of analytical studies

in this area lies in the difficulty of arriving at authori-

tative transcriptions of the tablature notation. While many

scholars have a basic understanding of tablature, they

understandably do not wish to develop the lute playing

skills required to discover which notes should be held or

stopped; thus, they lack the performer's perspective in

their evaluation of alternative solutions. Moreover, the

majority of students of Renaissance music find the


2

polyphonic vocal literature more interesting, while they

consider lute music too simplistic. Hence, this body of

music is usually left to performers specializing in the

lute, and their interests lie more in the areas of per-

formance practice and the historical aspects of this field,

rather than musical analysis.

The purpose of this study is to provide a detailed

analysis of the fantasias of John Dowland, one of the most

famous lutenist-composers of the turn of the sixteenth and

seventeenth centuries. The seven fantasias will be examined

in terms of modal usage, counterpoint, form, and motivic

development. The rest of this chapter will provide some

historical information about the composer, his instrument,

and the modal theory of his era.' It is hoped that this

thesis will serve to broaden the views of those who see lute

music as simple and uninteresting, as well as to open new

areas of research to lutenists.

1. All musical examples in this thesis have been photocopied


from John Dowland, The Collected Lute Music of John
Dowland, ed. and transcribed by Diana Poulton and Basil
Lamb (London: Faber Music Limited, 1978). Permission
has been granted by G. Schirmer Inc, New York, sole dis-
tributors for the United States of America.
3

John Dowland the Lutenist (1563-1626)

Although we know the year of John Dowland's birth, no

record of his birth or parentage exists. Moreover, nothing

is known about his early life, or specifically, his earliest

musical training. Like other lutenists of his time, he was

possibly apprenticed to a musician who taught him, or more

likely, indentured to a nobleman who had the means to pay

for his training. John Ward, in his discussion of Dowland's

biography, cites two famous examples of indentured young

lutenists: John Johnson, who was indentured to George

Carey, and Dowland's son Robert, a servant of Sir Thomas

Mounson. 2 Various documents surrounding Dowland's life give

possible clues to the identity of his early master. He ded-

icated his First Booke of Songs or Ayres (1597) to the

aforesaid George Carey, writing, "for your honorable favors

toward me, best deserving my duety and service." 3 Another

possible Master, Sir Henry Noel, signed a letter to Dowland,

"your olde master and friend." 4 In 1580, Dowland accompanied

Sir Henry Cobham, Queen Elizabeth's ambassador, to France.

2. John Ward, "A Dowland Miscellany," Journal of the Lute


Society of America, X (1977), 7.

3. John Dowland, "To the Courteous Reader," The First Booke


of Songs or Ayres (London: 1597).

4. Diana Poulton, John Dowland (Berkeley: University of


California Press, 1982), 48.
4

He could have been indentured to Cobham before this time,

although no documents exist to confirm this.

He remained in France until 1586; the most signif-

icant event known about this period was his conversion to

Catholicism, an event that would have a profound influence

later in his life. After his service in France, he returned

to England where, in 1588, he received his Bachelors degree

from Oxford. He then began to make himself known to the

English court. Two of his songs, "His Golden Locks," and

"My Heart and Tongue Were Twins," were sung before Queen

Elizabeth in the years 1590 and 1592 respectively. He

himself played before the Queen during the latter year.5 One

of Elizabeth's Lutenists, John Johnson, died in 1594 and

Dowland applied for the vacated position; he was denied the

post. 6 The reason, in his opinion, was due to Elizabeth's

alleged prejudice against Catholics. However, there is

little evidence to support this claim; William Byrd, one of

her prized musicians, was also a Papist. Poulton believes

that during this period the court was holding down expendi-

tures, as the court hired no other lutenist for four more

years. 7 Dowland continued to seek a post in the English

court until his appointment there in 1612; in his mind, all

5. Diana Poulton, ap. cit., 28-29.

6. ibid.

7. ibid., 37, 45.


5

success, however great, was overshadowed by his failure to

gain this position.

Having been refused by Elizabeth, he obtained per-

mission to travel abroad. "My mind being troubled, I

desired to get beyond the seas . . " Most of his

time was spent playing before the nobility of cities he

visited, or learning from various musicians. In Germany he

played for the Landgrave of Hessen and Duke of Brunswick,

both of whom asked him to remain in their service.9

Traveling then to Italy, he played in Venice, Padua, Genoa,

Ferrara, Florence, "and divers other places which I

willingly suppress." 1 0 According to his own account, he

spent some time with Giovanni Croce. "I will only name that

worthy master Giovanni Crochio vicemaster to the Chapel of

St. Marks in Venice, with whom I had familiar conference."'11

It is noteworthy that he sought Croce instead of the more

progressive Giovanni Gabrieli, the Chapel Master of the same

church. It is obvious, from his choice of teachers, that

his aesthetic was already set. He had no interest in the

new musical styles he encountered, but only desired to

8. Quoted in a Letter to Sir Robert Cecil, cited by Poulton,


ibid., 38.

9. Ward, p. cit., 18.

10. Dowland, op. cit.

11. ibid.
6

improve his skill in writing four-part ayres.1 2 This desire

was confirmed not only through his failure to meet any mono-

dists in Italy, but also by his intention to see Luca

Marenzio, the Italian master of the madrigal.

Dowland's journey to meet Marenzio was curtailed when

he was approached by English Catholic exiles who wished to

involve him in their plot against Elizabeth. Fearing that

he would be implicated, he returned to Germany before

November 10, 1595.13 In a letter to Sir Robert Cecil, he

gave a detailed account of his trip, exonerated himself of

all wrongdoing, and swore allegiance to the Queen.14

Upon his return to Germany, he began what was to be

an extended period of service to the Landgrave. In 1596,

however, less than a year after his return, he quickly began

his homeward journey after receiving a letter from Henry

Noel, his friend at the English court. "Her Majesty had

wished divers tymes your return: Ferdinando hath told me her

pleasure twice." Unfortunately, Noel's untimely death in

February, 1597, severed Dowland's last avenue to the English

court and apparently dashed his hopes of ever serving

Elizabeth.15

12. Ward, op. cit., 9.

13. ibid., 18.

14. Diana Poulton, op. cit., 38-40.

15. Ward, p. .cit., 18-19.


7

Another important event of 1597 was the printing of

The First Booke of Songs or Ayres. This collection was well

received at home; reprints appeared in 1600, 1603, 1606,

1608, and 1613.

In a letter dated February 9, 1598, the Landgrave

invited Dowland back into his service, promising, "I will

assure you that entertainment, that every way you shall hold

yourself content . "16 Whether or not he took that

offer is not known, but on July 16 of the same year he

received an offer of employment from Christian IV, king of

Denmark.

On November 18, he began his duties as lutenist to

the Danish court. At a salary of five hundred daler a year,

he was one of the highest paid servants in the kingdom.17

Ironically, his eight years of service to the Danish monarch

were marked with gross financial mismanagement. Danish

records of money paid to the English lutenist tell of the

many advances, gifts and loans paid to him during his tenure

in Denmark, yet he left the post almost penniless. The

reasons for his irresponsibility are not known.18

16. Poulton, op. cit., ,.

17. Poulton, ibid., 52.

18. Ward, op. cit., Appendix J, 100-107.


8

Nevertheless, Dowland's time in Denmark was also the

most musically fertile of his life. The second and third

collections of songs were published during this period, and

his music enjoyed great popularity at home. His book of

consort pieces, Lachrimae or Seven Tears, was also published

in 1604 during a leave of absence in England. His dismissal

in 1606, carried out in the absence of the king, probably

came as result of his mishandling of money.

After returning home from Denmark, Dowland was

employed by Lord Walden, the Earl of Suffolk; the circum-

stances of this arrangement are not known. He was still a

favorite musician in his country and his works continued to

be widely disseminated. Nevertheless, in spite of his popu-

larity, he continued to complain about his failure to secure

a position in the English court.1 9 It is also possible that,

in spite of his continued favor among the musicians at this

time, he began to feel a little out of vogue as he observed

the increasing popularity of the thoroughbass style in the

court of King James 1.20 It is well known that Dowland was

prone to periods of extreme melancholy. His dismissal from

the Danish court, his failure to secure a post in the

19. Poulton, op. cit., 66.

20. ibid., 71.


9

English court, and his distaste and possible fear of the new

musical style all could have been additional fuel for his

depression.

Perhaps Dowland's displeasure with the new monodic

style was vented through his translation of Ornithoparcus'

Micrologus or Introduction: Containing the Art of Singing.

The original version of this work, printed in 1517, was

almost a century old when Dowland translated it in 1609.

His music, though descended from the same modal tradition as

the Micrologus, does not reflect the earlier theoretical

views. How could Dowland who "loved discords as a cat loves

cream, " agree with Ornithoparcus' statement, "hence we loath

and abhore discords?" 2 1

A comparison of the Micrologus to a more contemporary

work will show to what extent theoretical ideas had changed

between the times of Ornithoparcus and Dowland. Thomas

Morley's A Plain and Easie Introduction to Practical Musicke

was published in 1597, eighty years after the Micrologus.

Between the publications of these two works, Glarean and

Zarlino had written on the existence of a twelve mode

system, while Ornithoparcus recognized only the eight modes

of the early sixteenth century. Morley cites both Glarean

and Zarlino in his discussion of modality in the "Annotation

Upon the Third Part," and refers the reader to the works of

21. ibid., 381.


10

these two men. 2 2


Ornithoparcus writes at length about the

speculative aspect of music, quoting Greek and Medieval

authorities, while Morley, in a dialogue between teacher and

student, immediately begins lessons in sightsinging and

counterpoint. Moreover, as Poulton has pointed out, Morley

and Ornithoparcus disagreed on the relationship between the

church modes and the ancient Greek tonoi. Ornithoparcus

believed that the modes were indentical to the tonoi; each

mode had a certain effect on the emotions.2 3 Morley, while

seeing a relationship between the modes and their Greek

counterparts, said, "and these be (although not the true

substance) yet some shadow of the ancient modi whereof

Boethius and Glarean have written."24

Surely Dowland, who was always looking for a way into

Elizabeth's court, knew of Morley, a "Gentleman of the

Chapel Royal," and his work. Dowland could have met Morley

when Morley filed suit against Dowland's publisher, Thomas

Est, over the rights to print The Second Booke of Songs or

Ayres. 2 5 Whether or not Dowland had any association with

22. Thomas Morley, A Plain and Easie Introduction to


Practical Musicke, ed. Alec Harmon (New York: Norton,
1973), 300-304.

23. Andreas Ornithoparcus, Micrologus or Introduction:


Containing the Art of Singing trans. John Dowland
(London: 1609), 36.

24. Morley/Harmon, op. cit., 147; Poulton, op. cit., 384.


25. Morley had exclusive rights to music printing in England
11

Morley, it cannot be said that Dowland was ignorant of the

prevailing musical thinking. His exposure to court life,

both as performer and observer, would have insured his

exposure to the newest trends.

Other than the rules of counterpoint, the only parts

of Micrologus, that could have been of interest to early

seventeenth century musicians are those that discuss

qualities of good singing. The author outlines some rules

for good singing and gives examples of offensive practices

heard in different countries. Diana Poulton believes that

Dowland, "could have found an identity of outlook on certain

questions (singers for one, undoubtedly), which blinded him

to its shortcomings as a textbook for 1609."26 James Gordon

Smith, in his dissertation on Dowland's Ayres, concurs:

Though influential in its own time, it Micrologus


was decidedly out of date in 1609. Dowland's
having thought it worthwhile to publish an English
translation of a outmoded, century-old treatise
may be interpreted as a sign of his growing dis-
satisfaction with some of the newer trends which
were then beginning to materialize in English
music.27

during this time, beginning in 1598., see Thurston Dart,


"Forward," in Morley/Harmon, op. cit., xii.

26. Poulton, op. cit., 385.

27. James Gordon Smith, John Dowland: A Reapraisal of His


Ayres (Ph.D. Dissertation, U of Illinois, 1973), 99-100.
12

Three years later, Dowland explicitly made his views

toward the younger generation of musicians known in in his

last book of ayres, A Pilgrim's Solace (1612). He attacks

singers for their "blinde division making and their igno-

rance in the true order of the hexachord in the system." He

then turns his attention toward the lutenists, "who vaunt

themselves to the disparagement of such who have been before

their time . . . that there never was the like of

them . . . and asks them to defend "their lute pro-

fession" against those who would put forth other instruments

as superior to the lute.2 8

Finally, in that same year, he obtained his coveted

position as a lutenist to the English court. However, his

salary indicated that the post only required his services as

a consort player, not as a soloist. He received only about

thirty pounds per year; more important lutenists earned

forty pounds.2z Little of his work was written during this

period, but much of his earlier work was disseminated in

foreign and domestic printed collections, and other com-

posers used his themes in their compositions. From 1622 on,

28. He refers to Tobias Hume who states, "From hence forth


the stateful instrument, gambo violl, shall with ease
yield full, various, and devicefull music as the lute,"
from Tobias Hume, "To the Courteous Reader," First Part
of Ayres, (London: John Windet, 1605); ibid., 106-109;
quoted from "To the Courteous Reader," A Pilgrim's
Solace (London: 1612).

29. Ward, op. cit., 21.


13

he was given the title, "John Dowland, Doctor of Music;"

whether or not he actually earned a doctorate is not known.

His death came in 1625; he was buried at St. Anne

Blackfriars. His son Robert succeeded him at the English

court.30

The Lute: Its History, Technique, and Notation

Any study of Dowland's music must begin with some

understanding of the lute, since Dowland was first and

foremost a lutenist. All of his music, with the exception

of the psalm settings, has scoring for lute. He earned a

major part of his living by playing the lute; his skill both

as a performer and composer brought him international fame.

The lute arrived in Europe during the eighth century

when the Moors brought it into Spain. Soldiers returning

from the Crusades also could have brought lutes home with

them from North Africa and the Middle East. At the

beginning of the sixteenth century the instrument began to

rise in popularity, aided to some extent by the advent of

printed music in Italy. During this period, the instrument

consisted of five or six courses.3 1 Because of inadequate

30. Poulton, 2p. cit., 85-89.


31. A course is a paired set of strings. On the lute, the
first, or highest, string is usually single, but is also
referred to as a course, in the context of the other
paired strings. Hence, a six-course lute has one single
string and five paired sets of strings. A six course
14

string-making technique, braided gut strings did not tune


well. The lowest three courses were tuned in octaves,

rather than at the unison. The higher of the two strings

provided the pitch, while the lower string gave the course

an illusion of depth, but tuning the two strings to sound an

octave was difficult. Later, because of improvements in

braided gut strings, bass courses tuned in unison became

commonplace. During Dowland's time a seventh course was

added; it could be tuned a minor third or perfect fourth

below the sixth course. Eight, nine, and ten courses were

also gradually becoming popular.32

While most of Dowland's music required only seven

courses, some called for as few as six or as many as ten.

The early versions of "Lachrimae," for example, were scored

for six courses, while some later versions of this pavan

required seven. The famous "Forlorn Hope Fancy" exists in


versions requiring seven or eight courses. Because the con-

fusing array of Dowland's music found in manuscript form is

copied and altered by persons other than the composer, no

instrument, tuned in G, has the following tuning:


,,G-, C-, f-, a-'d-'g. It must be remembered that
Renaissance music had no absolute pitch; these pitches
only show the intervals between the strings.

32. Klaus Wachman, James Mc Kinnon, Ian Harwood, Diana


Poulton, "Lute," The New Grove Dictionary of Music and
Musicians, 20 vols., ed. Stanley Sadie (London:
Macmillan, 1980), XI, 342-65; see also Ian Harwood, A
Brief History of the Lute (Lute Society Booklets, 1975).
15

certain evidence exists indicating which stringing he used

for his solo works. However, printed copies of his lute

solos and lute songs shed more light on the question. The

vast majority of ayres call for a seven-course lute, but in

his son's Variety of Lute Lessons, a relatively late source,

the pieces require seven, eight, or ten courses.3 3 It is

possible that he changed his music as the lute changed,

rearranging old pieces for newer instruments.

The right-hand technique also changed radically

during the sixteenth century. Medieval players struck the

courses with a plectrum held between the thumb, index, and

middle fingers. Toward the end of the fifteenth century,

performers gradually abandoned the plectrum and began to use

the thumb, index, and middle fingers to pluck the strings.

The hand was still held in the same position, fingers

extended toward the nut, running parallel to the strings,

with the little finger resting lightly on the belly of the

lute. According to instructions in the Capirola Lute Book

(1517), the thumb was held inside the hand while the arm

pivoted from the elbow. The thumb played metrically strong

beats or strong parts of a beat on the downstroke of the

arm, while the weak beats or parts of a beat were struck

with the index finger on the upstroke. 3 4 The music at this

33. Robert Dowland, Variety of Lute Lessons (London: 1610).

34. Wachman "Lute," op. cit., 353.


16

time exhibited a treble orientation; the most active part


was the highest string being played. Thus the hand,
pivoting on the elbow and little finger, would usually

"leave arid return to the treble string."3 5In playing

chords, the thumb would play the required bass notes in a

downward motion, while the trebles would be struck with the

upward motion of the index, middle, and sometimes, the ring

finger. 36

During Dowland's time the "thumb-under" technique

began to decline in popularity as the music became tex-

turally thicker and less treble oriented. Besides, as more


courses were added to the lute, the hand was forced into a

more perpendicular relationship to the strings in order to

allow the thumb to strike the increasing number of basses.

The middle and index fingers now played the rapid scale pas-

sages in the trebles, replacing the function of the thumb

and index finger. The thumb was relegated to the bass

courses; the middle finger played the metrically strong

beats or fractions of a beat, leaving the weak beats or

fractions thereof to the index finger. In fact, Jean


Baptiste Besard, in his "Nessesarie Observations Belonging

35. Pat O'Brian, Lute Seminar, given by the Houston


Classical Guitar Society, Houston, Texas, April 12-14,
1984.

36. Wachman, op. cit., 353.


17

to the Lute and Lute Playing," complains about "that unmanly

motion of the arm," referring to the way thumb-under players

moved the right arm from the elbow.3 7

Tablature

While the instrument and its playing technique con-

tinued to develop, its method of notation remained

consistent throughout its history. Each system of tablature

consisted of a symbolic representation of the fingerboard,

indicating which frets were to be depressed with the left

hand. Stems, with or without flags, indicated rhythms.

Indeed, the most cumbersome tablature of all was the German.

Each string-fret coordinate had its own symbol, and so,

depending on the number of strings and frets on a lute, the

player had to memorize twenty-five or more symbols. To add

to the confusion, each symbol was accompanied by its own

rhythm sign.

The Italian tablature consisted of a staff of six

lines representing the first six courses of the lute, the

highest line denoting the sixth or lowest course in pitch.38

37. "De modo in testudine libellus," appendix to Thesaurus


Harmonicus (Cologne: 1602); later published in Robert
Dowland's Variety of Lute Lessons, op. cit.

38. The Spanish borrowed this system from the Italians.


However, the vihuelist Luis Milan reversed the staff so
that the lowest line equaled the lowest string.
Thurston Dart, John Morehen, "Tablature," The New Groves
Dictionary of Music and Musicians, 20 vols., ed. Stanley
Sadie (London: Macmillan, 1980), XVIII, 52.
18

The effect of this configuration was similar to one lutenist

mirroring the other, demonstrating which notes should be

played. The numbers 0 through X, placed on the appropriate

lines, indicate which frets were to be depressed. 0 repre-

sents an open string, 1 the fret nearest to the nut, 2 the

second fret, and so on up to X, the tenth fret. X and X

indicated frets eleven and twelve, respectively. The

rhythms were indicated above the staff; only the shortest

articulations could be represented accurately. The player

was left to deduce the lengths of the longer notes. Italian

tablature is illustrated in example 1.

Example 1. Italian tablature.

A4 L

Q1
19

The English borrowed their system from the French,

who also used a six-line staff. The French, like the

Italians, indicated the shortest rhythmic values above the

staff. Contrary to the Italian tablature, the lowest line

represented the lowest course in pitch. Thus the French

notation came closest to pitch representation, actually

indicating the relative placement of high and low pitch.

Letters, placed on the appropriate lines, indicated which

frets were to be depressed. Hence, the letter a indicated

an open string, b, the fret nearest to the nut, c, the

second fret, and so on to n, the twelfth fret. The letter j

was skipped in favor of i. Often, b and d were written

diagonally to keep them from intersecting other lines.

Additional basses were indicated by letters on ledger lines

extending below the original staff. French tablature began

to be used throughout Northern Europe toward the beginning

of the seventeenth century. As lute music became more

complex, even the Germans saw the advantages of French tab-

lature and discarded their own notation in favor of it.

Example 2 illustrates French tablature.


Example 2. French tablature.

rpmr

The Lute and Modality

Dowland's music is based on the twelve modes current

in the late sixteenth century, first recognized by Glarean

and later by Zarlino.3 9 Each mode was identified by its

octave range, its finalis (tonic), and most importantly, its

species of fourths and fifths. Each species of diatessaron

diapente (fourth and fifth) identified a mode by the

placement of the one half-step in each species, and its

39. Harold Powers, "Mode," The New Groves Dictionary of


Music and Musicians, 20vols., ed. Stanley Sadie
(London: Macmillan, 1980), XII, 407-12; Morley/Harmon,
"Annotations Upon the Third Part," A Plaine and Easie
Introduction to Practicall Musicke,~op. cit., 300-304.
21

range. 4 0 Before Glarean's theory of the Twelve modes, only

eight were recognized, but by recombinations of existing

species of diapente and diatessaron, four more modes were

constructed.4 1 It must be remembered that modality was based

on a system of intervallic relationships, not on any concept

of absolute pitch. And, while the finals of modes had

names, no fixed frequency was assigned to them; these names

served only to remind musicians of the intervallic relation-

ships within a given mode.

Like other Renaissance musicians, lutenists dealt

with intervals, not pitches. John M. Ward, in his dis-

cussion of the relationship between lute playing and modal

theory in the sixteenth century, cites several theoretical

treatises that deal with the arranging, or intabulation of

vocal polyphony for the lute. He explains that the strings

of the lute were not tuned to absolute pitches, but were

tuned "as high as they will comfortably go." 4 2 The absence

of absolute pitch allowed the performer to "imagine" the

instrument to be tuned in a way that would place the music

40. See Leo Treitler, "Tone System in the Secular Works of


Guillaume Dufay," Journal of the American Musicological
Society, XVIII, 2, 131-69.

41. Powers, op. cit., 407.; Gioseffo Zarlino, On the Modes,


trans. Vered Cohen (New Haven: Yale University Press,
1984), 37-41.

42. John M. Ward, "Changing the Instrument for the Music,"


Journal of the Lute Society of America, XV 1982, 28.
22

comfortably under the fingers. He did not have worry about

as long as the inter-


the piece being in the right "key,"
(or
vallic content of the given piece was exactly transposed
for the lute. For
imagined) to the key most idiomatic
player would
example, if a piece had an E final, then the
,,E-,,A-,D-,F#-,B-'E,
imagine the tuning of the lute to be
but the range was
or, similarly, if a piece had a D final,
tuning
in the plagal form of the mode, he might imagine the

to be ,,A-,D-,G-,B-'E-'A.
43 Several treatises, including Don

Quarto di Musica
Bartholomeo Lieto Panhormitano's Dialogo
intablu-
(Naples, 1559), contain instructions and tables for

lating vocal music according to this method. Only rarely

did the original version have to be altered, namely, when


44
its range exceeded that of the lute.
different
The practice of imagining the lute in
any
tunings would suggest that the composer was free to fit
would make it
of the modes anywhere in the lute system that
Because
easier for the performer to execute a given piece.
frets set
the majority of lutes were equally tempered, with

in half steps, any mode could be played on any string

yield the
simply by depressing those frets that would

desired species of octave, fifth, or fourth.4 5 For example,

43. ibid., 29.

44. ibid., 31, see footnote.

Lutes, Viols, and Temperaments (Cambridge:


45. Mark Lindley,
23

'G, one would


to play a phrygian mode on the first course,

depress the following frets:

mode: 'G, 'Ab, 'Bb, ''C, ''D, ''Eb, ''F, ''G

fret: 0 1 3 5 7 8 10 12

,A, one would


Or, to play a dorian mode on the third string,

depress the following frets:

mode: ,A, ,B, 'C, 'D, 'E, 'F#, 'G 'A

fret: 0 2 3 5 7 9 10 12

one uses the same


To play a given mode on any other course,

frets to obtain the same intervallic pattern. An overview

use of
of Dowland's music will show that he restricted his

the modes to only four of the available twelve: dorian,

aeolian, mixolydian, and ionian. From the above discussion,


was
it may be submitted that this restriction of modal usage

not due to any limitations inherent in the instrument.

Dowland's Music

Though primarily a lutenist, Dowland also distin-


in many
guished himself as a versatile composer, fluent

contemporary styles and forms. The variety of genre

psalm settings, consort music, and


included secular songs,

of course, virtuoso lute solos. However, he is best known

Cambridge University Press, 1984), 2, 22.


24

4 6 Each song consists of a vocal


for his four books of songs.

part with lute accompaniment, and often one-to-three


or
additional parts are included for other instruments

voices. Although he wrote gay, lighthearted, or even lasci-

vious trifles, his masterpieces are essays of intense

melancholy. Songs like "Come Heavy Sleep," and "In Darkness

Let Me Dwell" wallow in despair. Dissonance and chroma-

ticism heighten this hopeless mood and exhibit anguish.

"I Saw My Lady Weep" and "Flow Not So Fast ye Fountains"

celebrate the act of weeping and tears become a "delightful

thing." Although most of his songs are strophic, he did


life.
experiment with through-composed forms later in his

"In Darkness Let Me Dwell," one of his last songs, is

through-composed.

In contrast to his prodigious song output, Lachrimae

or Seven Tears stands as his only volume of consort music.

The first seven pieces in this collection begin with the

"Lachrimae" theme in the cantus and develop it in different

ways. 4 7 The rest of the pieces in the collection consist of

other lute pieces by Dowland, arranged for a consort of five

46. The First Booke of Songs or Ayres (1597), The Second


Booke of Songs or~Ayres (1600), The Third and Last Book
of Songs or Ayres (1602), A Pilgrim's Solace (1612).

47. The original "Lachrimae" comes from a lute pavan of the


same name. Dowland also used this melody for his ayre,
"Flow My Tears," and many other composers borrowed it
for their compositions.
25

parts. The seven versions of "Lachrimae" are in aeolian or

dorian modes, while the other dances are in mixolydian,

dorian, or aeolian. Dowland's virtuosity, both as a

lutenist and a composer,is revealed through his use of the

lute in combination with other instruments. Often the lute

doubles a part; sometimes it doubles and inverts two parts,

or plays a line of its own. The lute constantly embellishes

the texture with cadential figures, scalar divisions of a

line, filling in the skips of another part with passing

notes. Lachrimae stands as one of the most skillfully com-

posed examples of consort music with lute.

Unlike his songs and consort music, which he pub-

lished in books containing only his works, the psalms were

contributed to other composers' collections, including

Thomas Est's Whole Book of Psalms (1592) and Thomas

Ravenscroft's book of the same title (1621). He also con-

tributed works to a collection of psalms set in memory of

Sir Henry Noel, Sir Henry Noel His Psalm Tunes (1597). Most

of the texts deal with the sinner's place before God, con-

fessing transgression and pleading for mercy. However, two

versions of Psalm 100, one of Psalm 104, and one of Psalm

134 deal with praise and adoration, and one piece is


48
actually a prayer for Queen Elizabeth. The psalms with

48. Entitled "A Prayer for the Queen's Most Sacred Majesty,"
this psalm asks God to bless the Queen as she rules
England, strengthening her hand as she fights her
26

minor-third dorian and


penitent themes invariably employ the
adoration use
aeolian modes, while the psalms of praise and

the major-third-ionian. All of these pieces have strophic

texts. These sacred pieces are the only pieces by Dowland

without written lute parts. While no documented reason

said that
exists for the absence of tablatures, it can be
these sacred
Dowland did not have control over the format of

collections, and the compilers may not have had room for

this specialized notation.

The Music for Solo Lute

Dowland's solo lute music comprises his second

rivaling his secular songs. Included


largest body of works,
eleven pavans, twen-
in this repertoire are seven fantasias,

eight almains, and five jigs. He also


ty-nine galliards,
set-
wrote an arrangement of "Come Away," in addition to ten

tings of popular ballads of his time. Often he also

arranged his songs into dances, dividing the melody into

strains, each strain followed by its embellished "division."

The most famous example is "Can She Excuse," which became

"The Earl of Essex Galliard." He also arranged dances not

borrowed from songs into strains; however, these strains may

or may not be followed by divisions. When the embellished

battles, and closes with a prayer for God to "Direct her


in thy righteousness."
27

repetition is omitted, the strain is simply repeated. As

explained above, he used only four of the twelve available

modes in his lute music; however, one encounters uncommon

transpositions in this literature "Giles Hobie's

Galliard," clearly in aeolian mode, has three flats in the

signature and its final is C, instead of A or D. 4 9 Having

the final on A or D would create many fingering

problems, including the necessity of having to barr& the

final chord on the second fret. With the C final, the gal-

liard lies very well on the instrument.

While most of Dowland's music was published in

printed collections and enjoyed wide circulation, most of

the music for solo lute was haphazardly dispersed in hand-

written collections throughout the British Isles and the

Continent. Each of these collections of tablatures contains

works by several composers, often reproduced without the

supervision of the artist; thus, versions of a particular

work frequently differ from one source to another. Because

of this limited, haphazard dissemination, English lute music

probably had a smaller audience than other types of music

published in printed form. Only those courtiers, noblemen,

and students who heard these lutenists play, studied with

49. Number 29 in John Dowland, The Collected Lute Music of


John Dowland, pp. cit., 108-10.
28

them, or had access to collections containing their works,


50
were familiar with their music.

Fortunately, Diana Poulton has completed most of the

difficult task of finding, collating, and editing Dowland's

solo lute music. The present study uses her edition, The

Collected Lute Music of John Dowland, the only complete


5
edition of the lute music to date. ' This edition provides

both lute tablature and transcriptions into staff notation

by Basil Lamb. A well known authority on lute music and

technique, Poulton is one of the foremost scholars of

Dowland's music and life. Her two editions of John Dowland

reveal her thorough study of his life and music, as well as

the historical climate of England and the Continent during

the composer's life. One of this century's first lutenists,

she has performed extensively in England. The Royal College

of Music appointed her professor of lute in 1971.52 The

Collected Lute Music of John Dowland is carefully edited

with a detailed appendix describing differences between ver-

sions of particular pieces. In cases where there are two

radically different versions of a given work, a second

50. However, three of Dowland's solos have versions in the


song books and one of his fantasias can be found in his
son Robert's Variety of Lute Lessons, op. cit.,
"Fantasia 7."

51. op. cit.

52. David Scott, "Diana Poulton," The New Groves Dictionary


of Music and Musicians, op. cit., IV, 169.
29

version is provided. This edition is widely used by

scholars who often refer to Poulton's numberings of specific

works.
30

Chapter II

THE DEVELOPMENT AND FORM OF THE FANTASIA

Of all the musical forms used by Dowland, the fan-

tasia had the fewest formal restrictions. Unlike masses,

dances, or secular songs, the fancy, as the English some-

times named it, was free from such structural requirements

as sectional divisions, cantus firmi, or the demands of a

text.

The most principal and chiefest kind of music


which is made without a ditty is the Fantasy; that
is when a musician taketh a point at his pleasure
and wresteth and turneth it as he list, making
either much or little of it as shall seem best in
his own conceit. In this may more art be shown
than in any other music, because the composer is
tied to nothing but that he may add, diminish or
1
alter at his pleasure.

This lack of constraint is rooted in the sixteenth-century

art of improvisation. An early account of Renaissance

improvisation describes a performance by the renowned

lutenist, Francesco Canova da Milano. "The tables being

cleared, he chose one, and as if tuning his strings, sat on

1. Morley, A Plaine and Easie Introduction to Practical


Musicke,~ed. R. Alec Harmon (New York: Norton, 1973),
296.- In this thesis, the term point has two appli-
cations: when used alone, it denotes the subject or
theme of a given fantasia. When used as part of the
phrase point of imitation, it denotes an area of a fan-
tasia wherein an imitative section has begun, such as the
beginning of a work where the point is featured in the
initial point of imitation.
31

the end of a table seeking out a fantasia." The account

goes on to say that as his "beautiful playing captured the

attention of the guests, he transported them into so plea-

surable a melancholy ... 2

A second aspect of the fantasia, perhaps the only

requirement inherent in the genre, is the necessity of a

point of imitation. Zarlino, in his treatise on counter-

point, cites the fantasia as a work using point-of-imitation

technique.

That is when he derives one voice from another and


arrives at the subject as he composes the parts
all together. Then that . . . from which he
derives the other parts is called the subject.
3
Musicians call this "composing by fancy."

The English fantasia developed from the ricercar-fantasia of

Italy, and to a much lesser extent, the French fantasia.

Evidence of the Italian influence is demonstrated by the

fact that many of Milano's fantasias found their way into

English sources after his death. Later in the century,

Alfonso Ferrabosco popularized the fantasia during his

tenure as one of Queen Elizabeth's lutenists. His music is

found in several English sources along with Dowland's.

2. Pontius de Tyard, cited by Arthur J. Ness in his edition


of The Lute- Music of Francesco Canova da Milano
(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1970), 2.

3. Gioseffo Zarlino, The Art of Counterpoint, Part III of Le


Istitutione Harmoniche, trans. Guy Marco and Claude
Palisca (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1968), 53.
32

Dowland's
One of Ferrabosco's fantasias appears in Robert
4
Collection of Lute Solos.
in
French influence on the English Fancy is evidenced
in English sources.
the presence of Adrian le Roy's works
also
However, it must be remembered that Italian lutenists
of the French fantasia
great'Iy influenced the development
court. In
through Alberto de Ripa's presence in the French
before the
fact, no native French fantasias are extant

middle of the sixteenth century. Even Le Roy's works

as
exhibit elements of the early Italian style, such

Milano's diminution and point-of-imitation techniques.


no
Moreover, English fantasias from Dowland's time exhibit

evidence of the French style brise (chord strumming), the

French com-
only native stylistic trait of sixteenth-century
be
position. All other elements of the French style can

traced to Italian origins.

Indeed, it was the Italian style that had the most

impact on Dowland's fantasias. In view of the evidence sub-


with
mitted above, Dowland's travels to Italy, his meetings

Croce, and his intention to see Marenzio, a manifestation of

the Italian style in his works is not surprising. Moreover,

his four-part ayres contain elements of the madrigal style

of Croce and Marenzio. The Italian influence in Dowland's

Number 5, entitled "Fantasia," Robert Dowland, Variety


4.
of Lute Lessons (London: 1610).
33

fantasias can be seen in the similarities between his works

and those of Milano. Both begin with points of imitation

and contrast contrapuntal sections with scalar passages.

Often, the two composers begin their points on the fifth

modal degree. Motivic development plays an important part

in both of their works.

The English fantasia of Dowland's era had obtained a


Milano did
degree of freedom not found in Italian examples.

not leave a polyphonic texture for long, but almost always

returned to that texture quickly after his diminution

sections. By comparison, Dowland often ended his fantasias

with virtuoso flourishes that prefigure the later toccata.

Milano carefully developed one, or at most two ideas

throughout a given work, whereas Dowland often introduced


5
motives that radically changed as the work progressed.

Milano wrote nearly one hundred fantasias and ricercars, in

addition to his twenty-nine intabulations of vocal works,

and his output was limited to these two genre. Dowland, on

the other hand, wrote many types of music, but at most com-
6
posed eleven fantasias.

5. Christopher Field, Eugene Helm, William Drabkin,


"Fantasia," The New Grove Dictionary of Music and
Musicians, 20 vols., ed Stanley Sadie (London:
Macmillan, 1980), VI, 381.

6. Diana Poulton's edition of the lute music contains four


more fantasias, possibly written by Dowland, but of
uncertain ascription. See John Dowland, The Collected
Lute Music of John Dowland, transcribed and edited by
34

Dowland's Fantasias.

Of the fantasias ascribed to Dowland, seven are known


of
to be by him, having his name appended to at least one

each of their versions. Robert Dowland printed Fantasia 1

(P. 1) in his Variety of Lute Lessons; the rest exist mostly


in manuscript versions. 7 Table 1 lists the fantasias along

with their sources.

Table 1. Sources of Dowland's Fantasias

P. no. Title Ascription Source

P 1. "A Fantasia" Maister Dowland Cambridge University


Library, Add. 3056,
Glasgow University
Library,
Euing Lute Book,
British Museum,
Add. 31392, Eg.
2046, Add. 38539.

P 2. "Forlorn Mr. Dowland Cambridge University


Hope Fancye" Library, Dd. 9.33(C),
Hortus Musicalis

Diana Poulton and Basil Lamb (London: Faber, 1974),


222-37.

7. For the sake of brevity in identification, the fantasias


will be numbered according to the sequence in Poulton's
The Collected Lute Music of John Dowland and given the
prefix "P." While other printed collections contain
Dowland's works, only the song books and his son's volume
had his direct supervision. Hence, printed versions by
musicians other ,than the composer were as susceptible to
variations and inaccuracies as the manuscript sources of
his music. For more information on the inherent problems
of English-tablature manuscripts, see Chapter I of this
thesis, 27.
35

Novis,
Elias Mertel,
Strasbourg, 1615.

P 3. "Farewell" Jo. Dowlande Cambridge University


Library, Dd. 5.78.
(3) (E); Glasgow
University Library,
Euing Lute Book.

P 4. "Farewell" Jo. Dowlande Cambridge University


Library, Dd-. 9.33(C)
P 5. Without J. Dowland Cambridge University
Title Add. 3056.

P 6. "Fancy" Mr. Dowland, Cambridge University


B.M. Library, Add. 3056,
Dd. 9.33(C), Nn 6.36,
Hortus Musicalis
Novus,
Mertel, 1615.

P 7. "A Fancy" Jo. Dow. Cambridge University


Library, Dd. 9.33(C),
Glasgow University
Library,
Euing Lute Book.

The Fantasias and Modality

One of the major questions to be considered in any

study of Dowland's music centers around his consistent use

of a limited number of modes. Remember that Dowland's

writes most of his music in forms of the dorian, aeolian,

mixolydian, or ionian modes. Indeed, the seven fantasias

known to be by him are even more limited in variety of mode.

In six of the seven fantasias, he uses dorian or hypodorian;

ionian is used in his only major-tnird-mode fantasia. The


36

intervallic configurations of dorian and aeolian, on the one

hand, and mixolydian and ionian on the other, are so similar

that Dowland's modal usage becomes even more limited in

practice. A comparison of the dorian and aeolian modes will

reveal that the half steps in their respective diatessarons

are displaced by only one step, and they have identical dia-

pentes.

The symbol (*) indicates a half-step.

dorian: G A*Bb C D E*F G

aeolian: G A*Bb C D*Eb F G

When one hears these two modes, in the context of late six-

teenth-century polyphony, along with their inherent musica

ficta, the ear can easily confuse them. The same can be

said of mixolydian and ionian.

mixolydian: G A :B*C D E*F G

ionian: G A B*C D E F#*G

Zarlino stated that dorian and aeolian have a very close

relationship to one another.

The first mode (dorian) has a very close kinship


with the ninth mode (aeolian), because in the
proper location of the first mode musicians write
compositions of the ninth mode outside its natural
notes, transposing the ninth mode up by a diates-
8
saron or down by a diapente.

8. Zarlino, On the Modes, trans. Vered Cohen (New Haven:


37

can
He also stated in an earlier work that the twelve modes

be divided into two groups: those with major-third degrees

and those with minor third degrees. The major-third modes

the
express ethos that are "lively and full of cheer;"
9 At the
minor-third modes are "somewhat sad and languid."

end of the sixteenth century, Morley considered the modern

twelve modes to be merely a shadow of the ancient Greek


0
tonoi mentioned in the writings of Glareanus and Boethius.'

Why Dowland chose only four out of the twelve modes

is unknown. In view of Morley's statement, it might be said

that late sixteenth-century composers were losing the sensi-

tivity to the individual ethos that the Greek, Medieval and

early Renaissance musicians felt and wrote about. Perhaps

Dowland only saw the need for a sampling of the modal

palette in order to achieve his musical ends. Moreover, the

counterpoint of the time, with its musica ficta and chroma-

ticism, obfuscated the subtle differences between

individual modes. The similarities between the limited

number of modes that Dowland used blurred their individual

characteristics even further. Table 2 includes the

Yale University Press, 1984), 58.

9. Zarlino The Art of Counterpoint, op. cit., 21-22.

10. Diana Poulton, John Dowland (Berkeley: University of


California Press, 1982), 384; Morley/Harmon, 2p. cit.,
147.
38

fantasias with their respective ranges, finals, modes, and

cadence points. 1 1

Table 2. Modes, Finals, and Cadences

P. no. Range Final Mode Cadence Tone


c. a. t. b.
P 1. ' 'D-'D 'G-,G 'D-,D ,G-,,D g ionian g, a, g
P 2. ''D-,A 'G-,F 'D-,C 'D-,,D g dorian g, d, a
P 3. ''D-,G 'G-,G 'D-,D 'D-,,D g dorian g, d, g
P 4. ''D-'D 'A-,G 'D-,D 'D-,,D d hypo- d, f, d
dorian
P 5. ''D-,A 'G-,G 'D-,D 'B-,,D g hypo- g, d, Bb, d
dorian
P 6. *'Eb-,G, Bb-,G 'F-,,D g dorian d, g, Bb
P 7. ''D-,A 'G-,G 'D-,C 'D-,,D g hypo- g, Bb, g
dorian

Only one of the seven fantasias known to be by

Dowland exists in a major-third mode. As with the other

this
aspects of Dowland's modal practice, the reasons for

have not been brought to light. One might guess that his

inclination toward a melancholy humor attracted him to the

sad minor-third modes. However, this theory might be

invalid in view of the fact that much of his other music is

written in major-third modes. Poulton, Ward, Fellows, and

11. The system of written pitch notation used in the text of


this thesis uses commas and apostrophes placed before
capitalized pitch names to indicate octave register.
Where 'C equals middle C, the notes 'D-'E-'F'-'G-'A-'B
equal the scale above, followed by the registers ''C,
'.C, etc. Registers below 'C are indicated by commas
placed before the pitch name: ,C is one octave below
'C, ,,C two octaves below, and so forth. Barry S.
Brook, Notating Music with Ordinary Typewriter
Characters; A Plaine and Easie Code System for Musicke
(Flushing, NY.: Queens College, 1964), 5.
39

other scholars concerned with Dowland's music have not dealt

with it from a modal perspective, and so no reasons for

Dowland's modal behavior have been given. Perhaps he looked

at his fantasias as a personal genre for self expression. A

glance at the other lute music reveals that most of it was

written for other people, such as patrons, or the nobility

by whom he was employed. He might also have had to write

pieces for their friends, and for special occasions. In

these settings, he would have composed the pieces for the


2 Typical names include, "Mrs.
people or the occasions.1

Vaux's Galliard," "Mrs, Brigade Fleetwood's Pavan," and "The

Earl of Essex' Galliard." When Dowland writes a piece for

himself, titles like, "Semper Dowland, Semper Dolens,"

"Melancholy Galliard," and "Lachrimae" appear. Invariably,

these sad titles come with minor-third modes. He wrote no

fantasias for other people; those with titles, other than

the indications of the type of piece, also connote unhappy

thoughts. The fantasias with titles include the "Forlorn

Hope Fantasia" and the two works entitled, "Farewell."

Hence, the melancholy titles, in conjunction with the use of

the sad, minor-third modes, would seem to indicate that the

fantasias, along with other introspective lute solos, were

12. For information on the people whose names appear in the


titles of the lute solos, see Poulton, "Biographical
Information," in her edition of Dowland, The Collected
Lute Music of John Dowland, . cit., xiii-xv.
40

written as means of self expression. This behavior would

account for the majority of the works under consideration

being written in minor-third modes.

The Form of the Fantasia

Although the sixteenth-century fantasia was inher-

ently free from formal restrictions, Dowland created his own

form for this genre. In fact, six of the seven pieces

attributed to him exhibit a single structural archetype.

Three elements govern this formal construction: texture,

motivic development, and modal usage. Dowland begins his

fantasias with a sparse texture consisting of one or two

voices, using long durations. As other voices enter, imi-

tating the point, the previous voices engage in faster

articulations. After all the voices have entered, a new

section develops, with variations in the number of voices,

and in the rhythmic pace. The content of this new section

can vary greatly; any combination of new imitative areas,

rapid scalar passages, or free counterpoint can occur. As

the work approaches its finale, a marked decrease in the

number of voices signals the beginning of rapid scale pas-

sages, changes in meter and other virtuoso displays. The

piece is consummated with rapid parallel sixths, thirds, or

arpeggios which establish the final tonality and outline the

appropriate species to reestablish the mode.


41

The textural influences on the form are complimented

by two main kinds of motivic development. In the first

type, here called "motivic transformation," each recurrence

of a given motive undergoes slight modifications until the

final appearance of the idea bears little resemblance to the

original. Irving Godt has revealed this kind of transfor-

mation in the works of Josquin, and in Palestrina's Missa

Papae Marcelli. Among the fantasias, P. 5 best exemplifies

this kind of development and will be discussed in Chapter

IV.' 3 The second type of motivic development, here called

"motivic repetition," is reminiscent of Milano's technique.

Dowland and Milano both extract a simple idea, often as

small as a single interval, from the point and repeat it in

different contexts throughout a work. The former uses this

technique in his P. 1 and P. 6; this technique will be dis-

cussed in Chapters III, and IV, respectively.

While the textures of the fantasias change fre-

quently, and the motives evolve into new ideas, the modality

of a given work remains constant. True to Morley's defi-

nition, Dowland never strays out of the established mode.

13. Irving Godt, "Motivic Integration in the Motets of


Josquin," Journal of Music Theory, XXI/l (Spring, 1981),
264-93; "A New Look at Palestrina's Missa Papae
Marcelli," College Music Symposium, XXIII/2 (Fall,
1983), 22-49.
42

"And this kind will bear any allowances whatsoever


tolerable in other music except changing the air
and leaving the key, which in Fantasie may never
be suffered."14

However, to add variety, Dowland writes cadences on other

notes within the mode in the middle area of a work, although

the beginning and end of a piece firmly establish the mode.

Having discussed the formal characteristics of the

fantasias, the focus will shift to a more detailed look at

each type of fantasia. The works under consideration will

be analyzed in groups analogous to Zarlino's division of the

twelve modes in Le Istitutione Harmoniche, III. The one

fantasia in a major-third mode will be discussed in the next

chapter, the fantasias with minor-third modes in Chapter IV,

and the chromatic works will be covered in Chapter V as a

separate group because of their unique features.

14. Morley/Harmon, p. cit.,


43

Chapter III

DOWLAND'S ONLY MAJOR THIRD MODE FANTASIA

While a general description of the form of the fan-

tasia was presented in Chapter II, it has yet to be

illustrated in the analysis of the music. P. 1 is the only

fantasia in a major-third mode known to be by Dowland, and

so merits a chapter of its own. Dowland proves to be a com-

poser worthy of study, able to balance the elements of

texture, counterpoint, and motivic development to create an

interesting, unified form. The point of P. 1 is unique,

exhibiting a separate contour and imitative format.

Moreover, the mood of the work, unlike those of the other

fantasias, is much more lighthearted, with none of Dowland's

usual melancholy.

The form of this work is articulated by cadences sep-

arating changes in counterpoint: either new points of

imitation or other new textures, such as rapid scalar pas-

sages against slower voices. Figure 1 outlines the form of

P. 1.

Figure 1. Formal Chart for P. 1

Section I

mm. 1-10. Initial point of imitation, original point imi-


tated at the octave in cantus, tenor, and bas-
sus. Authentic cadence on G.

mm. 11-18. Rhythmically displaced point introduced in


44

tenor, imitated in bassus. Both disappear into


counterpoint. Introduction of ascending-fourth
idea (mm. 15-16). Authentic cadence on G.

mm. 18-28. Imitation of ascending-fourth motive in cantus,


tenor, and bassus. Transitional figure derived
from point (m. 29-30). Authentic cadence on G.

Section II

mm. 28-40. New imitative figure begins in bassus, ends


with ascending fourth figure in cantus. Tran-
sitional material followed by Authentic cadence
on G.

mm. 40-52. Development of three-note anacrusis motive.


Two authentic cadences on A, weakened by
delayed resolution of leading tone in cantus
(mm. 45, 52).
mm. 53-64. Development of sequential thirds motive
derived from point. Imitation between
altus/tenor and cantus.
mm. 65-74. Transition: rapid scalar movement over a slower
bassus. Thirty-second-note embellishment ushers
in authentic cadence on G.

Section III

mm. 75-79. Development of sequential thirds motive using


syncopated figure.
mm. 80-85. Finale: change to 12/8 time, rapid movement
in both bassus and cantus.
mm. 84-91. Finale continued: Cantus outlines descending
ionian diapente over rapid bass line.
mm. 91-95. Cantus and bassus in parallel thirds with
entrance of a alto/tenor voice; new voice in
parallel thirds with bassus. Plagal cadence
ends work.

Dowland systematically develops three motives in this work;

in the opening measures, only the motives using the scalar

fourth- are manipulated. The next developmental section

incorporates the anacrusis motive, and the last


45

developmental section uses the sequential thirds from the

point. Unlike his songs or other lute music, P. 1 exhibits

a great deal of imitation; almost all of the non tran-

sitional sections contain some sort of imitation.

Counterpoint

The counterpoint in this work does not deviate to any

great degree from the standard contrapuntal practice of this

time, but counterpoint on the lute exhibits some unique fea-

tures because of the nature of the medium. While the upper

two voices remain strictly within the ranges predetermined

by the mode, the bassus covers two octaves. In this par-

ticular work, the point is initially imitated at the octave

rather than at the fifth, and yet the voices, with the

exception of the bassus, each stay in their assigned ranges.

Although the parts of a lute fantasia are not limited by

range like those of a choir. Other constraints, such as the

idiomatic character of the instrument and the limitations of

the performer, come into play. The descending point takes

the cantus voice into the upper range of the altus, the

proper location of the next entrance. Moreover, the penul-

timate note of the point requires the point to cross over to

the second string, which would conflict with a 'G entrance

in the altus (m. 4). Dowland avoids these problems by


46

bringing in the first imitation of the point with the tenor

on 'D. The ranges of the tenor and bassus do not require

these two voices to share a string like the altus and

cantus, so the bassus entrance can also be brought in at the

octave.

In Dowland's fantasias, as in other polyphonic works,

the counterpoint plays an important part in highlighting the

sectional divisions of a work. In P. 1, the point begins

without the accompaniment of other voices, thus highlighting

this important melodic strand, from which the composer sub-

sequently derives new material. The point is then imitated;

repetition indicates relative importance. Imitations of the

point occur at the octave and the fifteenth in tenor and

bassus with little deviation from the original, ending with

an authentic cadence, delineating the end of the first sub-

section (mm. 5-10). A new, rhythmically displaced treatment

of the first point begins in the tenor, imitated at the

fifth. The point then disappears, and the section continues

with free counterpoint (mm. 11-17). The number of voices

increases with each entry of the point until all four voices

are in effect, but, after the second cadence, a new imi-

tative section begins and the number of voices is reduced to

two (m. 18). This process occurs again and again with the

introduction of each new section. The number of parts is


47

reduced to herald the entrance of a new section. As the new

section progresses, more voices reenter the texture to

heighten the tension of the piece. Hence, each section acts

as an individual piece in itself, with its own beginning,

textural changes, climax, and ending.

Another aspect of the counterpoint in P. 1 is the

consistent use of certain melodi. formulas throughout the

whole fantasia. These consist of different types of disso-

nances, their preparations, and resolutions. The most

common type of dissonance is the passing tone, which is seen

exclusively in passages of eighth and sixteenth notes.

These dissonances can most easily be found in the scalar

passages of this fantasia (mm. 65-74; mm. 85-90), but they

can also appear anywhere in the counterpoint where scalar

movement against other slower voices can be observed. Of

course, the passing tones occurring on weak beats or parts

thereof greatly outnumber those occurring on strong beats or

strong fractions thereof, but Dowland does use the latter on

occasion. In mm. 24-25, two are used in sequence, as illus-

trated in Example 3. Although these notes fall on the

second of a pair of eighth notes, they are accented by

virtue of their position as the first note of a sixteenth-

note couplet. Lutenists of this era would play both the

eighth note and the first sixteenth note with the thumb or
48

1 Hence, the
middle finger, because of their metric stress.

strength of these notes comes by way of articulation.

Example 3. Accented-passing tones in P. 1 (mm. 24-25).

Another common dissonance, the neighboring tone, is

also mostly confined to eighth- and sixteenth-note

durations. As with other music of this period, the lower

neighboring tone is more commonly used than is the upper

neighboring tone. However, P. 1 does contain one example of

an upper-neighboring tone, appearing in the 12/8 section of

the work. However, this is a questionable occurrence: the

'G at the beginning of the measure does move up to an 'A and

back, but the bassus moves from an ,E to an ,F before the

cantus resolves, dampening the effect of the dissonance (m.

83, see Example 4).

1. Remember that the thumb and middle finger played metri-


cally strong beats, or fractions of a beat, see Chapter
I, p. 15.
49

Example 4. P. 1, m. 83, Upper-neighboring tone.

A i - I I

Of all the dissonances found in this literature, the

suspension is unique in that it is by nature an accented

dissonance. Moreover, the embellishments that often follow

it prolong its effect. Suspensions in P. 1 are usually

found embellishing the approach to a cadence. Ironically,

the type of suspension least used by Dowland is the one uti-

lizing the regular resolution. Of the six types of

suspension illustrated in Example 5, the repeated suspension

gets the most use in P. 1. This type of suspension is deco-

rated by a rearticulation of the dissonance, before the

resolution. A possible reason for the abundance of these

suspensions lies in the rapid decay of sound on the lute,

necessitating a rearticulation of the suspension so that the

discord can be heard. The example quoted above exhibits a

string of repeated suspensions linked in sequence. The next

most common suspension consists of a repeated dissonance


50

with two beats of decoration following. Acting as embel-

lishment before a cadence, the first four sixteenth notes

outline the suspended tone, the repetition, portamento, a

lower neighbor, and the resolution. On the next beat, the

resolution is seen as a leading tone, decorated by an upper

neighbor, and a lower neighbor. The resolution of the sus-

pension (leading tone) moves to the "root" of the cadential

triad. The portamento suspension, in contrast to the

repeated dissonance, is decorated by means of an antici-

pation of the resolution. This suspension is used only

twice in P. 1. In the point of P. 1, another type of deco-

rated resolution appears: the upward resolution. after an

upward movement to the fifth above the bass, the melody then

skips down to the third. This type of suspension only

occurs twice in P. 1.

The last type of suspension to be discussed contains

a type of dissonant preparation, called a "consonant

fourth." 2 This type of preparation is relatively frequent,

in the context of unusual suspensions. In a consonant

fourth preparation, the bassus remains on the same pitch (or

leaps to an octave) as a voice above it moves by step to a

fourth. The bassus is then sustained or rearticulated as

the fourth becomes a suspension, as revealed by the

2. H. K. Andrews, An Introduction to the Technique of


Palestrina (London: Novello, 1958), 122-28.
51

subsequent resolution. The first example involves a dis-

sonant portamento, which precedes the suspension (mm.

27-28). Above a ,D bassus, the eighth-note 'G portamento is

rearticulated with a quarter note, which is tied across the

bar to the sixteenth-note suspension. The quarter-note 'G

acts as the consonant-fourth preparation. Later on in the

piece, two identical examples appear on the penultimate

chords of cadences on A (mm. 44, 51). Above the ,E bassus,

the 'G-sharp in the cantus moves to 'A, creating the con-

sonant fourth. The ,E is rearticulated; the 'A is tied over

to create the suspension, which resolves to the 'G-sharp

leading tone.

Example 5. Types of Suspensions in P. 1.

a. Suspension with regular resolution (mm. 13-14).

Ak
I
I V"
rwl

VT
AW_ WT L' ...
IFF'W777,ai,-

i
w
dLW
ZY.-P . a
.

__________
52

b. Suspension with repeated dissonance (m. 44).

c. Suspension with simple portamento resolution,


followed by repeated suspension with decorated
portamento (mm. 16-17).

A d11 1_h Ia_-___--_


Apr i i

.m~
P5 ip I

FAT m
T ow I I
F I I r

d. Suspension with indirect resolution (m. 30).

rl lor
-

MON.-
53

e. mm. 27-28, consonant fourth preparation.

A 14 1 1 V 1 4" I ---

.
I t I I - 1 -1 --- 1 1
I Ndd I I -

!
W- a K- ABLE 13

lz

40
T

f. m. 44, consonant fourth preparation (identical to


m. 51).

The portamento, a melodic pattern which can occur as

a dissonance or consonance, was briefly mentioned in the

above discussion of suspensions. However, the portamento

can also occur independent of suspensions, as shown in

Example 6. A consonant example occurs at the beginning of

P. 1 (m. 8). Above a ,C bassus, an eighth-note ,A moves

down to a ,G, in the tenor; both notes are imperfect con-

cords to the bassus. The only other independent portamento

involves a cantus 'A moving to a 'G, in eighth notes, above

a bassus ,,D. In this case a perfect concord moves to a


54

dissonant fourth, which anticipates the consonant-fourth

preparation of the following suspension (m. 27, see example

5-f).

Example 6. Portamenti Without Suspensions.

a. m. 8, consonant portamento.

Motivic Development

In addition to changes in texture and the number of

voices, some sections are united by their use of common

motives. Perhaps the most important feature of P. 1 is this

motivic development that occurs throughout the piece. The

type of development used in this work is called motivic rep-

etition, and is reminiscent of Milano's technique. A

motivic idea is stated in the point, or early in the piece,

and is repeated and embellished. As the work progresses,

three motives become prominent. The most obvious is a

series of descending thirds, derived from the point (motive


55

"A"). Another important though less apparent motive appears

in m. 15, in the spinning out of the second point of imi-

tation, preceding the second major cadence (m. 18). This

new idea consists of a scalar fourth, either ascending or

descending, that appears on the weak part of a measure or

beat (motive "B"). A third motive, a three-note anacrusis

figure and a descending triad, is derived from melodic

material in the tenor; this will be illustrated in the dis-

cussion of m. 8, motive "C". In all three developments, the

initial idea is easily traceable throughout the work.

At the beginning of the work, the point partially

hides motive "A." Each measure of the point outlines a

third in a different way. In the first bar, the third is

formed by descending and ascending skips; bar two contains a

descending, stepwise third, while bar three exhibits an

ascending leap, which is filled in by an descending stepwise

line. The last bar of the point contains a suspension whose

resolution is delayed by an escape tone, thus giving sepa-

ration and emphasis to that third. Metric and agogic

accents highlight and separate each interval of a third.

Motive "A" provides material for a large area of the work

beginning in m. 54. In these passages, Dowland continually

displaces the resolution of the leading tone, thus


56

third idea.
highlighting the final skip of the descending

At first, the motive is essayed in an unembellished form

with simple eighth notes. As this section progresses,

faster articulations add passing tones to the motive, and

then the first half of the section ends with scalar six-

teenth notes (mm. 55-74). The following measures exhibit

the motive with more syncopated rhythms, leading up to a

meter change to 12/8 time (mm. 75-79). Thus, while the

sequential descending part of the motive remains constant,

other aspects of this idea, such as the rhythm, change as

the idea reappears throughout the work (see Example 7).

Example 7. Development of Motive "A," Thirds Motive.

a. m. 1, point.
57

b. mm. 53-56, initial development of motive.

i Liff W
I- I--
I

t) I _____-
r V7 gQ
-I-
---

I____

c. mm. 58-63, motive "A," embellished.

A 141

__________
IL_______

A" dor

TL

-MM6

soppy

Awl
Wr -- so
58

d. mm. 75-77, motive "A', with syncopation.

A 4I _________________________I__
t I IZ

Another important motive, motive "B," also acts to

indicate modal transposition. Like the descending third

idea motive "B" remains hidden until later in the fantasia.

The idea usually begins on a metrically weak beat and can

appear either ascending or descending. Immediately after

its initial presentation, a short development of the idea

begins, as ascending versions of this motive imitate each

other in the upper three voices for five bars (mm. 18-22).

The last individual appearance of motive "B" comes in

descending form as a series of suspensions whose resolutions

finally end in a cadence on the final tone (34-35, see

Example 8).
59

Example 8. Development of Motive "B".

a. mm. 15-16, Initial statement of motive "B".

A" ow
A- a
i 2 1 1
Lif dw I I
Aw I Ad
L

re

j -- "I I

w a IE- N
m

7' 1 f'-

b mm. 18-20, Development of motive "B" in imitation,.

F11 4pw
Ldf Aw
Ask v x
IMF-

C. mm. 34-35, extension of motive "B".

A 14
LEE I
Oj 10

IL
60

A third motive, a small three-note anacrusis figure

followed by two other notes, also provides opportunity for

development. The third note of the anacrusis, and the last

two notes of the idea often form a triad, that proves to be

an important component in the manipulation of this idea.

Appearing early in the work, this small, inner part of the

countersubject, almost passes unnoticed until it reappears

in the development. A short area of free counterpoint sepa-

rates the two short developments of this motive. In the

second area, different triads echo each other in the cantus

and bassus. The motive in the cantus presents its charac-

teristic triad and the bassus responds with a G major triad,

which is imitated in the cantus and the bassus finishes with

a responding C major arpeggiation before both voices end the

section with busy counterpoint. It is important to note

that in the developments of all of the above motives,

Dowland always keeps one aspect of a given idea constant,

while changing the others. In the sequential thirds idea,

for example, the intervallic and pitch relationships remain

the same, but the motive is reduced to its basic form, then

embellished, then stripped of its decoration at its final

appearance (see Example 9).


61

Example 9. Development of Motive C".

a. m. 8, Initial appearance of motive "C".

b. mm 41-42, Second appearance of motive "C".

Alir _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ I __
\~-~'J I
I----
T r .- __j I

C. mm. 45-47, Motive "C" with triads in imitation.

__I j
62

Moreover, the rhythm changes each time the motive is rein-

troduced. Finally, Dowland arranges the motives in an order

that further unifies the work. Motives "B" and "C" are

unlikely candidates for development, considering their

introduction after the initial statement of the point.

However, they are developed first, and their origins are

shrouded in the counterpoint. The more obvious candidate

for development, motive "A," is saved for last, immediately

preceding the finale. Hence, the idea presented in the

point rounds out the form of the piece.

Modality in P. 1

The mode of P. 1 is the most consistent factor of

large form. While the rhythms, number of voices and motivic

material change, the modality remains the same throughout

the piece. P. 1, the only fantasia in a major-third mode,

is clearly in the ionian. Very few F naturals can be found;

those that do appear can be explained as upper neighbors or

descending passing tones. Like other examples of polyphny

from this time, the modality in these works is maintained by

the repetition of the species of diapente and diatessaron

throughout the work. Moreover, the voices remain, for the

most part, in the ranges established for them by the mode.


63

However, while the mode, or the intervallic relation-

ships remain constant, other aspects of the tonality of the

piece provide variety. First, Dowland uses a variety of

cadence levels. In the beginning of P. 1, the closures are

consistently on g, the final of the mode, but close to the

half-way mark of the piece, two weaker cadences on A can be

found (mm. 45, 52). Although m. 45 does not assume the

importance of a major cadence, there is a definite movement

from E to A in the bassus, from a weak beat to a strong

beat. Moreover, the g-sharp leading tone in the cantus,

followed by the repeated A's, and the half-note bassus

indicate that this movement constitutes a cadence, albeit

weakened by the delayed leading-tone resolution in the

cantus. The cadence on A in m. 52 is stronger, in spite of

the same delayed leading-tone resolution. Another way that

tonal variety is accomplished is through the transposition

of the mode within the piece. A glance at the cantus of

this piece will reveal several leaps or stepwise movements

of a fourth from g to c; one measure of the bassus also

exhibits this interval (mm. 15-17; 20; 34-35; bassus, m.

19). At first, the relationship of g and c may not seem to

be significant; after all, many fourths can be found in

examples from this period What makes this particular

interval important is its repetition, and


64

reiteration of a fourth or fifth often indicates the

emphasis of important modal degrees. One may argue that the

harmony of the other voices does not support this new

emphasis, but it must be remembered that modality is a

theory of melodic intervals, not harmonic ones.3 It is

obvious that the piece at this point has not completely

changed to a new mode on C; this would not be in accordance

with Morley's rule that fantasias never leave their mode.

However, Dowland is using these repercussions of g and c to

give this section of cantus and one measure of the bassus

(mm. 19-20), an emphasis on C ionian. Hence, he does not

leave the mode at this point, but temporarily shifts the

emphasis to C.

Contrapuntal Tension on the Lute

In other polyphony, especially that written for

voices or consort, tension is achieved not only by an

increase in the number of voices, but also by the intro-

duction of increasingly rapid rhythmic values. On the lute,

this combination is impossible, due to the limitations of

even the most proficient player. Either the number of

voices can be increased, with the use of slower durations,

or faster articulations can be used, but with fewer voices.

3. Leo Treitler, "Tone System in the Secular Works of


Guillame Dufay," Journal of the American Musicological
Society, XVIII, 2, 131-69.
65

At most, only two rapidly moving voices, with a slower third

voice can be negotiated simultaneously on the lute. Two

possible solutions can be applied to this problem. One can

divide the faster articulations between two or three voices;

each part takes its share of slow and fast segments.

Example 10 exhibits this solution.

Example 10. P. 1, mm. 31-33, movement of fast passages


from one voice to another.

An interesting solution to the problem of increasing the

contrapuntal tension with a limited number of voices occurs

when the meter changes to 12/8 time. In this passage, the

rhythmic values consist of eighth and quarter notes, and the

compound rhythm is exclusively made up of eighth notes. In

order to keep the passage within the limitations of player

and instrument, the faster notes are switched from one voice

to the other. This situation is similar to the first

solution, where the parts share in the variety of rhythms;

but it must be noticed that the rhythmic exchanges between


66

the voices occur more frequently in this example than in the

previous one, thereby heightening the contrapuntal tension

(example 11).

Example 11. P. 1, mm. 81-82, 12/8 texture.

(J - --
)

The second solution entails a reduction in the number of

voices, accompanied by a marked increase in the number of

articulations in one part, while the other part maintains a

slower pace. The following two passages, cited in Example

12, illustrate this practice.

Example 12. Scalar Passages.

a. mm. 66-67.
67

b. nun. 85-86.

A4
A"

mj AW L
j ,Wj Ad Til

Although counterpoint on the lute poses many unique

problems, composers still use it to great effect, taxing the

skill of the performer to a great extent. Dowland bends the

limitations of the instrument to his advantage, creating

virtuoso passages that more than make up for the thin tex-

tures he is often forced to use.

While P. 1 contains some unique features, including

its major modality, it shares many traits with the other six

fantasias by Dowland. One major area of commonality con-

cerns the overall structure of this work. Counterpoint,

modality, and motivic development all contribute to the

formal construction of these works. In order to highlight

the unique features of each category of fantasia, and avoid

duplicate commentary, any recurrences of the aforementioned

features found in the other pieces to be studied will be

mentioned only briefly, and references will be made to this

chapter.
68

Chapter IV

FANTASIAS IN MINOR-THIRD MODES

Of the seven fantasias written by Dowland, four are

written in minor-third modes. In Poulton's edition, these

works are numbered P. 4 through P. 7. The term "minor-third

mode," in this discussion, denotes those modes containing a

minor-third above the final, i.e. Dorian, Aeolian, and

Phrygian, and the plagal forms thereof. Dowland's two chro-

matic works, also in minor-third modes, differ too much from

these works and will be covered in the next chapter. While

three of these works share the formal archetype established

in the last chapter by the study of P. 1, P. 4 is unique in

some aspects, particularly because of its cantus firmus.

Formal Charts for the works to be studied follow.

Figure 2. Formal Charts for P. 4 through P. 7.

P. 4, "Farewell" (An "In Nomine")


cantus firmus: "Gloria Tibi Trinitas"

mm. 1--9. Initial point of imitation, below cantus firmus.


Entries in altus (,G), tenor (,D), bassus (,,G).
Clausula vera cadence on D, in bassus and tenor.

mm. 9--14. Second Point of imitation. Altus continues a


descending scalar figure started by bassus before
previous cadence. Bassus imitates; altus begins
new figure derived from original point.
Authentic cadence on D.

mm. 1 5-22. Third point of imitation. Tenor imitates alto;


voices composed of ascending and descending
seconds in sequence. Independent bassus line
enters.
69

mm. 22-33. Fourth point of imitation. Altus imitates


bassus at the fifth with ascending scalar line.
Free counterpoint ensues.

mm. 33-36. Fifth point of imitation. Bassus imitates


altus: ascending scalar fragments. Imitation
gives way to free counterpoint.

mm. 37-38. Bassus and altus in parallel thirds, below can-


tus firmus, prolonging F triad, then G triad.
m. 39. Short return to texture of mm. 33-36.

mm. 40-45. Finale: change to 12/8 meter. Complex rhythms


in all three voices. Cantus firmus is moved
between altus and cantus, Texture changes:
points of imitation are replaced by free coun-
terpoint involving two-against-three rhythmic
relationships, and more syncopation.

mm. 46-56. Finale continued. Sixteenth notes appear as


texture becomes thinner. Cantus ends in
altus voice. Authentic cadence on D.

P. 5 "A Fancy"

Section I

mm. 1-6. First point of imitation. Point starts in can-


tus (''D), imitated in tenor/altus ('D), over a
,,D pedal in bassus. Bassus enters with point
(,D). Authentic cadence on D.

Section II

mm. 7-12. Second point of imitation. Presentation of new


ascending fifth figure in cantus. Imitated by
tenor at octave (,D) bassus at fifteenth (,,D).
Upper two parts continue in eighth, dotted
eighth, and sixteenth notes over half and quar-
ter notes in bassus. Authentic cadence on D.

mm. 12-15. Sixteenth note quadruplets, beginning on weak


fraction of beat, outline ascending and
descending fourths in imitation in altus and
cantus. Both voices end on leading tones
resolving to 'B-flat (cantus), and ,G (tenor).

mm. 16-18. Transition. Dotted eighth-sixteenth note


figures (bassus) against eighth notes (cantus).
70

mm. 18-20. Eighth-note bassus against sixteenth-note cantus.


Common contrapuntal progression in the tran-
sitions of Dowland's fantasias.

mm. 21-25. Syncopated cantus against dotted eighth-


sixteenth note bassus culminates in B-flat
authentic cadence immediately followed by
authentic cadence on G.

Section III

mm. 26-27. Finale. Change to 12/8 time: series of scalar


descending fourths in cantus in eighth and
sixteenth notes, with eighth and quarter notes
in bassus.Cadence on D.

mm. 28-31. Return to 4/4 time. Series of sequential


sixteenth-note figures in cantus; over a
quarter-note "Romanesca" bassus. Authentic
B-flat cadence interrupts sequence (m. 30).

mm. 32-35. Elided cadence on G (mm. 32-33). Return of


agogically weak sixteenth-note quadrup-
lets. This motive then augmented to eighth
notes over ,,G and ,,D pedals in parallel sixths
and thirds. D cadence ends piece.

P. 6 "A Fancy"

Section I

mm. 1-8. First point of imitation. Cantus begins on


''D, imitated by altus (,G), and bassus ('D).
After altus entrance, cantus begins scalar
sixteenth-note passage. Authentic cadence on D.

mm. 9-15. Sequential ascending thirds in cantus give way


to dotted eighth-two thirty second note figures
and an authentic cadence on G.

Section II

mm. 15-21. Descending parallel thirds in cantus and altus


outline ''D to 'D octave; scalar passages fol-
low. Authentic cadence on D. Cadence extended
to m. 20.

mm. 21-27. Scalar sixteenth notes, intermixed with quarter


notes, and eighth-note leaps of a sixth climb to
71

''D. Melody descends to ,,G, before a cadence


on G.

Section III

nm. 28-35. Abrupt change in texture to an altus in half


notes over a bassus of eighth, dotted eighth,
and sixteenth notes.

mm. 36-41 Both voices now in eighth notes for one


measure as the melodic thirds are set in imi-
tation. Both voices continue in imitation with
staggered dotted eighth-sixteenth note figures.
Section ends with cadence in B-flat.

Section IV

mm. 41-47. Ascending scalar sixteenth notes lead to a


cadence on G, with the final chord prolonged
throughout the last two measures.

P. 7 "A Fancy"

Section I

mm. 1-5. Initial point of imitation. Point begins on


second half of first beat on ,D, under a 'D
pedal. Cantus and altus imitate on 'D and ,G
respectively. Cadence on G.

mm. 5-12. Free counterpoint in two, then three voices.


Tonality shifts from G to D, and back.
Cadence on G.

nm. 12-16. Transition: scalar sixteenth notes over quarter


and eighth notes. Cadence on G.

Section II

mm. 16-19. Bassus imitates ascending fourth begun by


cantus; imitation gives way to free counter-
point.

mm. 20-23. A sixteenth-note scalar bassus under a half


and quarter-note altus gives feeling of B-flat
tonality, with a pause on B-flat, followed by a
return to the final, G.

mm. 23-28. Continuation of counterpoint of nm. 16-19, but


72

with more voices in use. Many ascending and


descending scalar fourths. Cadence on B-flat.

mm. 28-31. Appearance of B-flat transition passage similar


to that of P. 5, mm.18-20.

mm. 31-36. More free counterpoint. A texture of eighths


and sixteenths in all three voices gives way to
half notes in the bassus, and eighth or quarter
notes tied to sixteenth quadruplets in the upper
two voices. Altus imitates cantus. Cadence on
G. Three quarter-note 'B-flats in cantus act as
transition.

Section III

mm. 36-41. Free counterpoint. Descending sequence in can-


tus and bassus. Ascending skip of a third in
eighth notes tied to descending scalar fourths
in sixteenth notes. Lower neighbor pattern with
descending fourth skip in bassus sequence.

mm. 41-48. Three measures of sixteenths against quarter


notes (41-43). Rhythms inverted. Two measures
of counterpoint; voices in sequential parallel
thirds.

mm. 48-58. Transition: extended scalar section. Six-


teenth note cantus against quarter and
half-note bassus.

mm. 58-60. Free counterpoint. Harmony similar to mm. 28-30.

mm. 61-66. Change to 12/8 meter. Eighth note bassus


and altus in parallel sixths. Cantus in dotted
quarter notes outlines G dorian diapente.
Parallel sixths interrupted by repeated figure
and plagal cadence on G. Return to 4/4 meter.

Section IV

mm. 67-75. Finale: More parallel sixths in sixteenth


notes in cantus and altus give way to scalar
sixteenth notes in cantus which outline tuba,
then final, with scales and arpeggios.
Authentic cadence on G prolonged through last
three measures.
73

Unlike P. 1, where the form is delineated exclusively

by cadences, other factors contribute to the articulation of

structure in the minor-third-mode fantasias. In P. 4, for

example, all of the sections up to the finale begin with

points of imitation, and then continue with free counter-

point, but no cadences separate these areas. Indeed,

certain bassus notes may skip down a fifth, but no pauses

divide the piece into individual subsections. In the other

minor-third-mode works, major sections can be lengthy;

section II of P. 5, for example, lasts twenty-one measures

(mm. 6-26). Often, subsections are only separated by

changes in texture, and at best, short, elided cadences sep-

arate them, while in P. 1 these smaller areas are clearly

divided by cadences. Again, in section II of P.5, we see a

definite change in rhythm: eighth notes, and pat-

terns give way to sixteenth notes (mm. 10-15). The only

separator of the two textures can, at best, be described as

an elided cadence (m. 12). Although the bassus movement is

correct (,,G-,A-,,D), and a leading tone moves to the final,

the rhythm in the cantus and altus does not slow down enough

to create a definitive cadence. The same is true of P. 6

and P. 7; the voices outline cadential patterns, but little

change in the pace occurs (see P. 6, mm. 8, 14, 20; P. 7,

mm. 5, 7, 28, 60). Hence, subsections are divided by


74

changes in texture, or at best, short elided cadences;

strong cadences are reserved for major sections. often,

textural change is the only indicator of a new subsection;

P. 4 is the only fantasia of this group that begins each new

subsection with a point of imitation, while the others

employ this technique less frequently. Only half of the

subsections in P. 5 begin with imitation; in P. 6 and P. 7,

only the beginning and short passages within each work

contain any imitation. Otherwise, changes in texture are

accomplished by variations in free counterpoint or scalar

lines, with slower accompaniments in other voices.

Initial Points of Imitation

Like P. 1, each of these four works begins with a

point that establishes modality and provides material for

motivic development. While each of the points has an indi-

vidual melodic contour, they all share common

characteristics. Three of the four points begin on the tuba

of the mode. P. 5 and P. 6 begin on the same position on

the lute, the seventh fret of the first, or highest string;

in the G dorian mode, this fret represents the tuba or fifth

degree above the final. P. 1 also exhibits this descent

from the seventh fret; thus three out of Dowland's seven

fantasias have this feature. This position on the lute, in


75

the middle range of the fingerboard allows a descent or

ascent to the other important modal degree. In contrast,

the points of P. 4 and P. 7 each exhibit an ascent to the

next important modal degree. The point of P. 4 begins on ,G

underneath the cantus firmus and ascends by skip to the

tuba, while the point of P. 7 begins on the tuba, (D) and

ascends by scalar fourth to the final. All four of the

points are illustrated below.

Example 13. Points for P. 4 through P. 7.

a. P. 4

A
Lf
Aff 6
rom V-%i I
V-1 li I - - I r 0 r
Cp -M

b. P. 5

A _ _ _ _

.j)ff_
76

C. P. 6

At p~1 I I I
I1IIm
M ig
he
ill
i1 o1 | | ..|M
IIinl
lhh
IIIIina
i1i

d. P. 7

o I UIIIl
I

I
L= '6iJ le

The points of P. 4 and P. 7 are written below another voice

composed of slower moving half notes. In P. 4 the half-note

'D in the first bar represents the beginning of the cantus

firmus, while the same note above the point in P. 7 acts as

a pedal until the imitation occurs in that same voice. In

both cases, 'D is on an open string, allowing the player to

give most of his attention to fretting the point.

While some degree of consistency exists in the compo-

sition of the points, these four fantasias show two

different styles of'imitation. P. 4 and P. 6 imitate at the

fifth and fourth. In P. 4 the cantus firmus begins in the


77

highest voice, on 'D in the hypodorian mode. The first

presentation of the point then begins in the altus, on ,G in

the authentic dorian mode, followed by imitations in the

tenor and bassus, on ,D hypodorian and ,,G dorian, respec-

tively. P. 6 begins in much the same way, but without a

cantus firmus. Entrances of the point begin on ''D hypo-

dorian, 'G dorian, and 'D hypodorian, in the cantus, altus,

and tenor. Presentation of the point and subsequent imi-

tations occur only in the higher three of the four voices;

the bassus imitation is omitted.

On the other hand, P. 5 and P. 7 depart from the

standard Renaissance modal of imitation with their imi-

tations at the octave and fourth. P. 5, like P. 1 begins

its imitation of the point by an entrance at the octave.

The first entrance of the point begins on ''D, in the

cantus, with the tenor entering on 'D; but the bassus then

enters on ,G, immediately repeating the point in sequence.

If the altus would have imitated the cantus on 'G, this

would have been a more normal point of imitation.


78

Figure 3. Order of Imitative

Entries in the Minor-Mode Fantasias


P. 4 p. 6 P. 5 P. 7

Cantus 'D(c.f.) ''D''D ,D

Altus ,G'G xG

Tenor ,D x 'D x

Bassus ,,G D,G ,D

P. 7 begins in much the same way; three entrances begin the

work, with the first imitation occuring at the octave, and

the second at the fifth. Again, as in P. 1, the nature of

the lute and the contour of the point affect the imitative

configuration. In P. 5, the second part must imitate at the

octave to avoid having two parts on the same string, thereby

blurring the independence of the voices. Like P. 1, the

second part is placed in the tenor range, instead of the

altus for the same reason. The shape of the point (its

descent into the alto range) and the corresponding need to

cross over to the next string necessitate imitation at the

octave. In P. 7 the same factors work to create the same

situation, but Dowland arranges the counterpoint differ-

ently. Instead of ordering the entrances of the parts by

range, as in P. 5 (cantus, tenor, bassus), he starts with

the bassus, imitates at the octave with the cantus, and


79

finally brings the altus in at the fifth, its proper

position. By arranging the voices in this manner, he works

around the inherent problems of his instrument and allows a

more orthodox sequence of imitation. The characteristics of

the lute require creative solutions when balancing the

requirements of Renaissance counterpoint with its idiosyn-

crasies. P. 1, P. 5, and P. 6, each begin with points that

outline the descending diapente; yet Dowland is able to vary

the imitative scheme in each of these three works, in spite

of the limits of his instrument.

Counterpoint

Apart from the ways the point is imitated, the coun-

terpoint of the minor-third-mode fantasias does not deviate

from the norms of this period. However, Dowland consis-

tently uses devices to increase contrapuntal tension. The

principle stated in Chapter III concerning the idiomatic

characteristics of the lute apply here: either many voices

may be used, with only one rapidly moving part, or fewer

voices, with at most two parts in faster rhythms, may be in

play.' In order to get around this limitation, and provide

variety, he moves the rapid passages from one voice to

another, often within the space of a single beat, as the

12/8 passage in P. 1 demonstrates. The 12/8 passage that

1. See Chapter III, 61-63.


80

ends P. 4 is another example of this phenomenon. All three

voices trade an abundance of different rhythms; this

exchange allows the passage to work on the lute. Fast pas-

sages are limited to one voice at a time (see Example 14).

Example 14. Exchanges of Rapidly Moving Lines from One


Voice to Another.

a. P. 4, mm. 40-41, Exchange in 12/8 time.

_ _ _ _ _ _

1
4-
lp
).I
Li 6LF -7
P-1
- I K I v I V I

b. P. 5, mm. 21-22, in 4/4 time.

A
LO =-I DUN I amw I box[ I T-1- I
i 40 '0 1 -NJ lei I
w z ..... Z: .40.
40 Ty "MEW ........

IAL-A

did i4lo a Ti
81

When one voice takes up a faster series of articulations,

the previous rapidly moving voice slows down. As the piece

draws to a close, the already rapid articulations increase

their tempo, culminating in the series of sixteenth notes in

m. 55. A similar type of exchange occurs in the 4/4

sections of the other works of this type.

P. 5 contains an example of this technique beginning

in m. 21. The bassus in this excerpt is composed of dotted

eighth and sixteenth notes. An analysis of the syncopated

cantus reveals the same rhythm set on the weak part of the

beat (mm. 21-24). The combination of these two voices

yields a compound rhythm of successive sixteenth notes, but

the actual sixteenth notes are traded on successive beats

from one voice to another. The passage preceding am. 21-24

consists of sixteenth notes against eighth notes; by con-

trasting these two sections, Dowland achieves a textural

variety without changing the number of voices in use. P. 6

exhibits a similar example, beginning in m. 38.

Another way that tension is increased is by the use

of simpler textures, such as two--against- or one-against-

four passages. Dowland uses these passages to delay the

arrival of expected cadences, through the use of virtuoso

display, thus heightening tension. At the end of P. 7, for

example, he adds ten measures of figuration to the piece,


82

after a strong plagal cadence. After three measures of par-

allel sixths, the work continues with two more measures of

scalar passages, followed by one measure of contrapuntal

material, two measures of rapid scales and arpeggiations,

and finally the end. Thus, Dowland has created tension by

increasing our expectation of the end of the piece, but

delaying the end via the scalar passages. P. 5, P. 6, and

P. 7 exhibit many of these passages. These areas consist of

scalar or arpeggiated sixteenth-note passages accompanied by

a counterpoint of eighth notes and quarter notes. Their

function is to act as momentum to the next cadence, as well

as transitions between two more important sections of coun-

terpoint. In P. 5, the descending fourth acts as the most

important unifying motive. The section in 12/8 ends on a

half cadence which is then followed by one of these tran-

sitional passages made up of arpeggiated and scalar thirds

in sequence against a Romanesca bassus of quarter notes (mm.

26-7; 28-32). A coda follows, outlining diminished and

perfect fourths (see example 15).


83

Example 15. Scalar Passages.

a. P. 5, mm. 28-29, transitional passage, with


Romanesca bassus.

b. P. 7, mm. 73-74, ending passage.

Often these rapid articulations precede the final cadence of

a fantasia, confirming the original mode and tonality. Both

P. 6 and P. 7 end with these passages, each beginning with

scalar passages and ending with arpeggios outlining the

final chord. Many more examples of these transitional pas-

sages can be cited in Dowland's fantasias, including P. 1.

Twenty-one of the seventy-five measures in P. 7 contain

these passages. of particular interest are two similar


84

passages found in P. 5, and P. 7. In both works, these

areas appear after elided B-flat cadences in the middle

sections of each work (P. 5, mm. 18-20; P. 7, mm. 28-30).


Dowland, like other composers of this time, is not immune to
borrowing material from one piece for use in another. Each
of these arpeggiated passages begins with a B-flat cadence

and ends with a cadence on G, acting as transitional

material between two important sections of counterpoint.

The passage in P. 5 ends the first major section of the

piece, while the similar passage in P. 7 merely links two

contrasting subsections of counterpoint.

In the cases of P. 5, P. 6, and P. 7, these scalar

sections are interspersed with areas of motivic development.

Non motivic areas provide contrast and build contrapuntal

tension through virtuoso display. These intermediary areas

rarely contain any motivic development. P. 7, the one


exception found in this group of fantasias will be discussed

in the section on motives. Because few cadences provide

resting points within these pieces, tension is created

through an unbroken forward momentum. This is especially

true in P. 4, where no break in the counterpoint occurs.

Textural change between sections within the piece only con-

tributes to the increase of tension to the end. Hence, the

only repose comes at the final cadence.


85

Dissonance

While the minor-third-mode fantasias use most of the

same dissonances found in P. 1, many of those found to be

uncommon in P. 1 are used more frequently in the minor-

third-mode fantasias. A ;ase in point is the use of the

accented passing tone in P. 4, which is used five times in

each statement of the point (mm. 1-6) and three more in a

passage of free counterpoint (mm. 25-27). These accented

passing tones operate in the same way as those found in

P. 1. There they fell on the strong part of a weak half of

a beat; in P. 4 they appear on the strong parts of weak

beats. Another use of the accented passing tone occurs in

P. 6, where a perfect fourth is formed between a ,G in the

top voice and a ,D dotted-eighth note in the bassus on the

fourth beat of the bar (m. 28). Again, the dissonance

occurs on the strong part of a weak beat; but the length of

the passing tone is extraordinary, sounding three times as

long as the resolution. Earlier in P. 6, another type of

passing dissonance not found in P. 1 occurs (m. 11). In the


bassus, a half-note ,,B-flat on the third beat of the

measure is set against a 'E-'D-'E. Obviously the

most important tone is the 'E.; the 'D only acts as a lower

neighbor. P. 5 also contains an interesting use of an

accented passing tone: an eighth-note 'C appears over a


86

half-note ,,D, at the beginning of the third beat (m. 6).


It is significant because it falls on a strong beat of the

measure. The ,,D acts as a pedal under a decorated final

chord, ending a plagal cadence. Later, in the 12/8 section

of P. 5, more passing tones can be found in the cantus voice

appearing on the second beat of each triplet figure as the

first of two sixteenth notes. Although this dissonance must

still be considered uncommon, Dowland uses them quite often

in the minor-third-mode fantasias; sometimes several of them

will appear in sequence, like those in the beginning of

P. 4, or the 12/8 section of P. 5. The quarter-note passing

tone in P. 6 and the the passing tone occurring on a strong

beat in P. 5 attest to the increased use of accented passing

tones in the minor-third-mode fantasias. It must be noted

that all of these instances of passing tones are accented

metrically, not contrapuntally; hence, they are oblique.

Example 16. Accented Passing Tones in the Minor-Third-Mode


Fantasias.

a. P. 4, mm. 1-2, point, accented passing tones,


initial point of imitation.

_ _A
87

b. P. 6, m. 28, accented passing tone.

c. P. 6, m. 11, embellished quarter-note passing

) IMO
tone.
"

d. P. 5, m. 6, accented passing tone on strong beat.

A
88

Another uncommon dissonance found in P. 1 is the

upper neighbor. Only two of these can be seen in the minor-

third-mode fantasias. However, two similar examples appear

towards the end of P. 4. Both of these examples occur above


a ,,G; a ''C moves from a 'B-flat and back. Moreover, this
example illustrates an accented upper neighbor, occurring on

the strong part of the second beat of an Jm figure in


12/8 time (mm. 53, 55). In P. 5 another more standard upper

neighbor occurs at the final cadence of the work (m. 35).

It occurs on the weaker of two sixteenth notes, decorating

the final chord.

Example 17. Upper Neighboring Tones in the Minor-Third-Mode


Fantasias.

a. P. 4, m. 53, accented upper neighbor.


89

b. P. 5, m. 35.

In the minor-third-mode fantasias, Dowland again

favors the repeated suspension. As with P. 1, these out

number every other type of suspension, including the simple

suspension with its consequent resolution. The other types

of suspension found in this group of works include the

repeated suspension with sixteenth-note decoration, upward

suspension, the suspension with delayed resolution, sus-

pensions decorated with lower neighbors, and an unusual type

of extended suspension. Most of these suspensions were

found in Chapter III and illustrated there; however, four

types of suspensions unique to the minor-third-mode works

will be discussed here.

The suspension with a resolution decorated by a lower

neighbor is ,ironically, a common suspension in other works

of this period; but none are found in P. 1, and only one in

the minor-third-mode fantasias. This lone example is found

in the opening measures of P. 5, decorating the first


90

statement of the point (m. 2). This example is important

for two more reasons: it is an illustration of a suspension

with a consonant fourth preparation, when seen in relation

to the bassus ,,D; and it contains the only example of an

undecorated portamento in the minor-third-mode fantasias.

Another uncommon suspension is found in P. 4, and must be

considered a questionable case (mm. 33-34). It is unique

not only because of its upward resolution, but also because

of its unusually short preparation; a sixteenth note is tied

to an eighth-note dissonance. The resolution makes the

sonority more stable by creating a root-position triad,

resolving the dissonant fourth to a third. The next case,

found in P. 5, is an excellent illustration of an extended

suspension, but of unusually small proportions (m. 24). In

the cantus, the ,B-flat sixteenth-note preparation is tied

to a sixteenth-note dissonance above an eighth-note ,F in

the bassus. The bassus then skips down an octave to ,,F,

while the cantus ,B-flat is repeated with an eighth note

before resolving to a sixteenth-note ,A, extending the sus-

pension.

Two more examples of suspensions prepared by disso-

nances occur in P. 7 (mm. 7, 35). A rhythm occurs

above a sustained bassus; in each instance, the bassus and

the eighth-note 'G in the cantus comprise a discord. The


91

bassus is then sustained or rearticulated through the reso-

lution, the resulting configuration consisting of a

suspension with a dissonant preparation and regular reso-

lution. In the first instance, the eighth-note 'G is

surrounded by two sixteenth-note 'F-sharps, while an ,A is

articulated below by means of aJ P ,jttern (m. 7),

resulting in a 7-6 suspension prepared by an interval of a

seventh. The second instance illustrates a consonant-fourth

preparation of a suspension. Below the

'F-sharp-'G-'F-sharp a half-note bassus ,,D sets up the

unusual situation. While the consonant fourth is not

unusual in the context of dissonant preparations, the

seventh preparation is rarely found, especially in the late

Renaissance. 2

2. H. K. Andrews, An Introduction to the Technique of


Palestrina, (London: Novello, 1958), 122-28. While the
consonant fourth preparation of suspensions seems to have
been fairly common during Palestrina's time, other dis-
sonant preparations, including that of the seventh, were
rare in his mature work. "In considering these examples
of dissonances and trying to discover some rational
explanation of them, it must be born in mind that most of
the more irregular forms are found in Palestrina's
earlier works though they were generally the common
practice of the preceding period." (p 126).
92

Example 18. Uncommon Suspensions in the Minor-Third-Mode


Fantasias.

a. P. 5, m. 2, suspension prepared with a consonant


fourth, and decorated with a lower neighbor.

A
I
- - I-.--
K I
1 1.
Lf
V-
Am TI
.Ago.
tj
Is -f

.Mow.

71

b. P. 4, mm. 33-34, suspension with upward resolution.

Mi
i%-' K

toot r
r-
)

C. P. 5, m. 24, suspension with delayed resolution.

lift
93

d. P. 7, m. 7, seventh preparation of a suspension.

e. P. 7, m. 35, suspension with a consonant fourth


preparation.

One of the more interesting examples of dissonance

found in these works is the cross relation, the close asso-

ciation of a note in one voice and its chromatic alteration

in another. Both of the possib.ie types of cross relation

can be found in these works: the two notes can occur simul-

taneously or in succession. 3 In the most common type of

cross relation, the two notes occur successively. In P. 5,

3. Although Chromatic fantasias contain cross relations, the


occurrence of a given note and its chromatic alteration
in two separate voices, this must not be confused with a
chromatic step in one voice, as seen in the chromatic
fantasias. The behavior of linear chromatic steps will
be discussed in Chapter V.
94

a busy section of counterpoint ends on a G-major triad, with

the major third (,B-natural) in the tenor (m. 23). The

bassus ,,G leaps up to ,,B-flat a half beat after the major

third is sounded in the previous sonority, highlighting the

movement of the G-major triad to the B-flat major sonority.

An identical movement is seen in two examples from P. 7. In

both examples a B-natural in the first sonority is immedi-

ately followed by a B-flat in another voice in the next

chord. Similarly, the G-major chord precedes the B-flat

major triad (mm. 16-17; 36). The simultaneous cross

relation only occurs once in the minor third mode works, in

P. 4. In the cantus, an 'F natural, sustained throughout

three measures with half notes, is set against an ,F-sharp

in the tenor voice. The note attracts further attention to

itself by virtue of its syncopation and its quarter-note

length. Unlike the staggered cross relation, where the

triads change, the simultaneous cross relation in P. 4

creates a clash between the minor and major qualities of the

D triad.
95

Example 19, Cross Relations.

Successive Cross Relations

a. P. 5, m. 23

b. P. 7, mm. 16-17

c. P. 7, m. 36

ALI

r V- v I
96

d. P. 4 m. 46, simultaneous cross relation.

While the discussion of dissonances has centered on

unusual occurrences, it must be remembered that, with the

exception of the cross relation, Dowland's rare dissonances

are only slight departures from normal practice. Most of

the accented passing tones and upper neighbors fall on weak

beats, or parts of a beat; the normal manifestations of dis-

sonances greatly outnumber the aberrations. However, the

number of abnormal occurrences in this group of fantasias is

higher than those found in P. 1, suggesting a more daring

use of dissonances in the minor-third-mode fantasias.


97

Motivic Development

As mentioned in Chapter II, two kinds of motivic

development are found in Dowland's fantasias. The first, as

Irving Godt has mentioned, is common in the Motets of

Josquin and the Masses of Palestrina. The type of devel-

opment used in this work is described by Godt in his

discussion of the Josquin motets. He uses the following

formula to describe the changes that occur between a given

motive and its mutation: 4

If (AOBOC....N), then (AON).

(0 = "is similar to")

This type of development, for the purposes of this paper

called motivic transformation, is found to a large extent in

P. 5, where an idea presented in the point is changed as it

reappears throughout the piece. A second kind of motivic

usage, found in the ricercar/fantasias of Milano, mentioned

in Chapter II, will be termed "motivic repetition." P. 1 is

indicative of this type of development.

Of the minor-third-mode fantasias, P. 5 provides the

clearest example of "motivic transformation." The

descending fifth, outlined in the point, provides the basic

4. Irving Godt, "Motivic Integration in the Motets of


Josquin," Journal of Music Theory, XXI/l (Spring, 1981),
269; "A New Look at Palestrina's Missa Papae Marcelli,"
College Music Symposium, XXIII/2 (Fall, 1983), 22-49.
98

developmental idea for the whole piece. Immediately after

the first cadence, the idea is inverted and turned into an

ascending fifth (mm. 1-10). A series of ascending and

descending fourths in sixteenth notes beginning on weak sub-

divisions constitutes the next transformation of the motive

(mm. 12-15). Although these fragments differ from the

original fifth motive, a strong case can made for their

inclusion as motivic descendants. The second note of the

point, ''C, lies a perfect fourth from the final, 'G; like

the first note of each of the sixteenth-note groups, it

occurs on a weak subdivision. Thus, Dowland is using a

portion of the original idea to create a new transformation.

The next developmental passage appears with the change to

12/8 meter, and is comprised of descending scalar fourths

paired in sequence and repeated three times at different

levels (mm. 26-27). An interval of a third replaces the

fourth in the next motivic cell, but the sixteenth-note

figure from m. 12 reappears in conjunction with this new

interval to maintain continuity (m. 32). Finally, both the

thirds and fourths are brought back in the coda over ,,G and

,,D pedals; the thirds reappear in the form of diminished

fourths (mm. 33-34). Although Dowland does not use the same

intervals throughout the fantasia, as he does with P. 1, a

type of motivic development is taking place. First, a


99

systematic handling of the initial point takes place

throughout the fantasia: a descending fifth becomes an

ascending fifth. Later in the piece, the fifth becomes a

fourth, and towards the end, a third. At the end of the

work, the scalar fourth idea returns with an augmented

rhythm and a diminished interval. Dowland also systemati-

cally changes the rhythm: first, the basic duration of each

note in the point is reduced from quarter notes to eighth

notes, then to sixteenth notes. Second, he metrically dis-

places the motive, both in the sixteenth-note ascending and

descending fourths, and in the last three measures of the

piece, when the fourths return. Indeed, Dowland has shown

great craft in, "wresting and turning the point as he

list. "5

Example 20. P. 5, Motivic Transformation.

a. Original point, mm. 1-2.

own"@

5. Thomas Morley, A Plaine and Easie Introduction to


Practicall Musicke, ed. R. Alec Harmon (New York:
Norton, 1973), 296.
100

b. Second point of imitation, ascending fifth


figure, mm. 7-8.

A I POWWWWAM
-

___ -1J.

C. Ascending and descending fourths in sixteenth


notes, beginning on weak part of beat, mm. 12-13.

d. Final appearance of descending fourth motive,


diminished interval with augmented rhythm,
mm. 33-34.

--A ---- Puft


I--Le
tf IL
I I --
-"-

WI
N-11

- I
___ ___ ___ ___ ___ __ __I___ _ I- -t-
jw I
101

P. 6 is the best example of motivic repetition found

in Dowland' s minor-third-mode works. The point contains

many possibilities for motivic material, but again, as in

P. 1, he chooses the third as his primary motivic interval.

The first exposition of thirds in the point comes in the

second measure in two places: first as part of an ascending

scalar figure in the first half of the bar, and then as a

descending skip. In the second half of the bar, the skip is

repeated a third higher. After a half cadence (m. 8),

the first sequence appears in sixteenth notes, and is inter-

rupted by two eighth-note scalar thirds, each filled in by a

descending group of sixteenth notes (mm. 9-11). The

ascending thirds motive is manifested again within a

sequence of figures. Although the basic movement of

the line is stepwise, the thirty- second note embellishments

resemble the preceding melodic ascending thirds. Here, the

skips are filled in; (mm. 11-12). The last instance of the

scalar thirds appears as a link between a B-flat cadence and

a major cadence on G, and acts as an extended retrograde of

mm. 9-11. The passage begins on the last half of m. 22,

after the B-flat cadence, with an eighth rest in the cantus

line followed by an eighth-note B-flat and four descending

scalar sixteenth notes. The two eighth-note leaps of a

sixth and their four descending sixteenth-note figures


102

complete the figure only hinted at in the previous measure.

The reverse of mm. 9-10 follows descending a full two

octaves; a cadence, separating two major sections follows

(mm. 23-25). This idea is also used in parallel motion over

a ,,G pedal, in the form of an elided cadence, that precedes

a transitional scalar passage (mm. 15-17). The climax of

P. 6 comes after the descending scalar thirds, and the G

cadence. A rhythmic bass line moves under a series of half

notes, that outline the G dorian diapente. Although many

thirds can be seen in this bass line, they do not take on

the motivic significance of other thirds in this piece; they

do not appear in any kind of sequence or parallel motion

(mm. 28-30). An abrupt change from half notes to eighth

notes occurs in the top voice: and for one measure the two

lines move simultaneously before the cantus becomes synco-

pated (m. 36). An ascending sequence of descending thirds

becomes readily apparent in the bassus, imitated at an

eighth-note distance by the cantus. The syncopation in the

top voice disguises its true movement (mm. 37-39). A last

appearance of the thirds occurs in m. 44 with two sixteenth-

note lines moving in parallel thirds.


103

Example 21. P. 6, Motivic Repetition.

a. Original point, mm. 1-3.

r I I IL--- I . .F I
-T
I II II I
'

Lif aFv 17 A I A-4 :j I - NJ I


%AV qw 013t
Or !I I I.d- N..r
firmMy 4 AW Pw
Flu If--

MW
Z 4

b. Ascending melodic thirds mm. 9-10.

-A I
ILLM -=:f!", I 7T7vI -j I I I f i F. .a I I I _ __I_
--i

yI

C. f igures with ascending


melodic third motive, mm. 11-12.
104

d. Thirds in parallel motion, mm. 15-16.

A1-A

T-- I

e. Ascending thirds in imitation, mm. 36-38.

1. d.l&_ _ _ _ _

At the heart of the motivic development in P. 6 is

the consistent development of one never-changing fragment,

which is simply repeated throughout in different contexts.

P. 5, in contrast, exhibits constant change: A descending

line becomes an ascending line and both are used throughout

the work. The scalar fifth in the point is paired down to a

fourth, and then to a third.

The motivic development of P. 7 is more subtle than

that found in P. 5 or P. 6. The most distinctive feature of

the point is the ascending scalar fourth which begins on the

weak part of a beat. This motive can be found throughout


105

the piece in many guises. Like the motives in P. 5, this

fragment undergoes many changes as the work continues. In

the first occurrence, for example, the motive is changed

from an ascending motive to a descending one and the rest is

replaced by a ,B-flat a fourth below the ,E-flat that begins

the fragment (m. 14). The same kind of appearance occurs

two measures later, when two of the fourths are set in imi-

tation, but in ascending motion. Like the preceding

example, the first note of the fragment replaces the rest

found in the original statement. The imitation in the tenor

begins and ends on a weak subdivision (m. 17).

In m. 25, a new group of fourths appears in the

bassus and cantus. The first of these descending fragments

begins with the eighth rest found in the original statement;

this fragment is repeated twice before its reiteration in

sequence a second lower. The last appearance of the

original version of this motive appears in sixteenth-note

diminution in sequence (mm. 38-40).

A new version of this motive appears in the bassus

and cantus of m. 18: A skip appears in the descending four-

eighth-note group, reducing the size of the fragment and

breaking up its scalar character (m. 18). This variation

returns in mm. 28-29, in both bassus and cantus, in both

ascending and descending form. In fact, the three-note


106

motive occurs three times in each of these two measures:

The first occurrence ascends; the last two descend. In the

cantus, a descending form of the fragment appears in

repeated sixteenth notes beginning on the second beat of

each measure. The culmination of this passage outlines the

original motive again in repeated sixteenth notes (m. 30).

The last occurrence of this new motive occurs in the last

half of m. 59, before the finale.

Example 22. P. 7 Initial Motivic Development.

a. Original version of motive, in point, m. 1.

b. m.14

A -1
Ld 1E
107

C. I.. 17

d. mm. 25-26.

:tz"I5I -- Aft __ _ _ _ ~

e. mm. 38-40

Al Trow, P904ma
17_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ ___________

u m L 1
108

New version of motive.

f. m. 18

A I
Idw ft
rift
kN Ll

Ink
I
g. mm. 27-29.

ME 4
10 10

HwAr-
Ic p - AM

h. m. 59

._____
109

After looking at these fragments one might question

their significance as motives; after all, fourths make up an

important part of Renaissance polyphony, helping to

establish range and identify mode. The mode of P. 7 is

hypodorian, with a G final, and of the fourths in question,

only the cantus in m. 18 contains the notes of the G dorian

diatessaron. Moreover, the point presents the initial

ascending fourth on an off-beat, and this metric character-

istic is reflected in subsequent recurrences of the motive.

P. 7 combines developmental procedures of both P. 5 and

P. 6. It is similar to P. 5 in terms of motivic transfor-

mation. Certain elements of the motive change; the

ascending fourth of P. 7 becomes a descending fourth and the

eighth rest of the original motive is replaced by a note a

fourth below the beginning of the motive. However, the

fourth in P. 7 is constant throughout, like the third in

P. 6, whereas the fifth in P. 5 becomes a fourth and then a

third.

P. 4 does not exhibit the motivic unity of P. 5,

P. 6, or P. 7. Instead, its cantus firmus, derived from the

famous chant, "Gloria Tibi Trinitas," provides a continuity

of line. Beneath the cantus, the rest of the work unfolds

in a series of points of imitation until the finale. After

the first note of the cantus, the first point of imitation


110

begins on ,G, imitations enter at the fourth and the octave,

and a descending octave line from ,D to ,,D leads to a

clausula vera cadence on a D triad (mm. 1-6, alto-tenor-

bass). The next point of imitation enters, imitating the

preceding descending scale. It begins on 'D, and ends on

,E; its imitation at the octave only descends to ,,F. This

imitative section continues with the introduction of an

ascending skip of a fourth followed by a descending second,

a movement that roughly mimics the contour of the point (mm.

9-14; altus/tenor-bassus). Two more imitative passages

follow before the appearance of the finale. A sequence of

ascending and descending seconds, again appearing in the

altus, is imitated in augmentation in the tenor (mm. 17-20).

Unlike P. 5 and P. 6, where motives are developed

throughout entire works, P. 4 allows only short developments

of motives in small sections of three to five measures.

These passages are linked together by the cantus firmus

which acts to unify the whole piece. The cohesiveness of

the work, and its dependence on the cantus firmus is further

reinforced by the scarcity and characteristic weakness of

cadences within. Aside from this lack of resting points,

P. 4 emulates standard Renaissance practice more than any

other fantasia studied thus far. While the imitation at

fifth and fourth, the establishment of points of imitation,


111

and the use of a cantus firmus are all standard procedures

for this time, they are also unusual practices in the

context of Dowland's minor-third-mode works.

Finales

The term finale refers to the virtuoso writing at the

end of Dowland's Fantasias. Although one might be tempted

to call these sections codas, the former term seems better

for several reasons. The term coda in later music,

especially that of the Classical era, connotes a section

that closes a work in a state of relative repose. Most of

the major developmental and virtuoso sections have already

transpired and one senses that the piece is nearing its end.

Dowland's endings do not signal a section of relative

repose. Instead, he seems to save his virtuoso flourishes

and much of his tension for the final measures of the work.

In addition to mere virtuoso display, these sections also

serve to reconfirm the mode and tonality of the piece by

outlining the proper species of diapente or diatessaron, and

by repeating important notes of the mode.

It is in this section that many of the scalar

sections discussed above appear, such as that seen in P. 5

(mm. 30-32). Often the scalar sections are doubled at the

third or sixth; P. 7 contains an extended example of


112

doubling at the sixth. Beginning at the 12/8 section the

bassus and altus move in parallel sixths for four measures.

A two-measure plagal cadence ends the main body of the

piece, the meter returns to common time, and then the cantus

and tenor move in parallel sixths for three more measures

(mm. 61-69). With the exception of one measure of three

part counterpoint and the final chord, the remaining texture

of the piece consists of sixteenths against half notes,

thereby stressing the final and tuba of the mode. The most

unusual finale in this group is found in P. 4; instead of

virtuoso scales or arpeggios, a complex texture unfolds,

with complex rhythmic relationships between the three

voices. Although some areas within this finale stray away

from the important degrees of the mode, the cantus firmus

maintains the modality of this section; as the piece

approaches its close, important modal degrees reassert them-

selves in the other voices as well (see m. 45, altus; and m.

54, sixteenth notes). Moreover, in the beginning of this

section, all three voices center around the pitch D, the

final of this piece.

Conclusion

While the minor-third-mode fantasias contain many

unique features, such as various types of motivic


113

development, borrowed material in P. 4 and P. 5, and several

varieties of dissonances not found in P. 1, they still

contain the same formal plan illustrated in the discussion

of P. 1, often without the reinforcement of cadences. Even

P. 4, with its motivically self-contained sections, and its

cantus firmus, is still articulated by changes in texture

and has its finale set off from the rest of the work by a

change of meter and the virtuoso writing contained therein.

Like P. 1, contrasts between subsections can be accomplished

not only by changes in texture, but through their functions

as motivic or non-motivic areas; these subsections form

larger sections. However, the textures found in the

sections with the complex rhythmic interplay between voices

are more complex than most- of the textures in P. 1. While

P. 1 develops several motives, P. 5 and P. 6 each take a

single idea and unify a whole work with it. Although the

minor-third-mode works share similar traits with P. 1, they

surpass it with a more unified, complex, and subtle working

of the internal aspects of fantasia form.


114

Chapter V

FANTASIAS IN CHROMATIC MINOR-THIRD MODES

The chromatic fantasias represent Dowland's most

skillful writing for the lute; no other group of his lute

solos tests the performer's abilities more than these works.

The thick textures, the consequent difficulties of main-

taining independence of voices, and the awkward fingering

positions all challenge the player's technique. Moreover,

aspects of these works set them apart from the previously

discussed fantasias. The most obvious feature, other than

chromaticism, is reiteration of the point throughout the

whole piece. Thus, these pieces exhibit a more unified

motivic usage than the other fantasias, and the chroma-

ticism, derived from the points, pervades the counterpoint

of both works.1 A second characteristic these works is their

relatively thick textures throughout; consequently, the

articulation of form within the individual sections is less

dependent on changes in the number of voices, introduction

1. "Chromaticism" refers to the use of chromatic half steps


in the linear movement of these works. For example, the
movement 'C-natural to 'C-sharp would constitute a chro-
matic step, whereas the movement 'C-sharp to 'D-natural
would not. The first case is found in the points and of
the chromatic fantasias, and represents a half-step
movement foreign to the regular diatonic movements found
in the dorian mode. The second case represents a half-
step movement normally found within the same mode:
musica ficta raises the regularly occurring 'C-natural to
'C-sharp to provide a leading tone to the final, 'D.
115

of transitional scalar passages, or rhythmic exchanges as

found in the other five fantasias. Instead, the chromatic

fantasias call on other aspects of counterpoint and motivic

development to create formal unity. Like most of Dowland's

masterworks, they exhibit a mood of intense melancholy. The

thick textures, the chromatic counterpoint with its modal

uncertainty, and the slow somber tempos of these works all

contribute to the sadness denoted in the titles "Forlorn

Hope" and "Farewell." Although these two works share

similar traits in terms of texture, mood, and chromatic

usage, they exhibit two different forms. P. 2 exhibits a

form similar to P. 1 with distinct contrapuntal sections and

a finale set apart by cadences. In contrast, P. 3 maintains

a consistently thick texture with overlapped cadences that

blur the articulation of sections. Its counterpoint moves

slowly, marked by harsh dissonances; the piece does not end

with the virtuoso finale typical of the other fantasias. A

formal summary of each of the fantasias follows.

Figure 4. Formal Charts for P. 2 and P. 3

P. 2 "Forlorn Hope Fancy"

mm. 1-8. Initial point of imitation. Point descends a


diatessaron by chromatic half steps, starting
with a half note, and continuing by quarter
notes from ,G to ,D. Other imitations exact,
entering in Bassus (,G), tenor ('D), altus (,G),
bassus (,D), and cantus (''D).
mm. 8-12. Point in stretto beginning with cantus ('D),
116

followed by embellished altus ('G), and


rhythmically displaced tenor ('D). Diatonic
bassus with cambiata figures in eighth and six-
teenth notes. All voices then contain fewer
chromatic half steps. Authentic cadence on G.

mm. 13-17. Second point of imitation, in stretto. Bassus


(,,G), imitated with slight rhythmic change in
cantus (''D). Chromatic suspensions in tenor
and altus. Bassus, altus and tenor continue in
diatonic sixteenth notes. Authentic cadence on
D.

Section II

mm. 17-23. Third point of imitation in stretto: Some imi-


tations of point imcomplete. Rhythm slowed down
to eighth, quarter, and half notes. Point
begins in tenor ('D), on second beat of measure.
Altus states fragment of point in next measure,
same beat ('D), descending to ,B-natural, before
leaping up to 'E. Cantus enters next measure and
states entire point. Authentic cadence on E.

mm. 23-27. Tonal movement from E back to G. Reduced chroma-


tic movement within each voice. The tonal cen-
ter continues to be E until bassus outlines
sequence of descending scalar fifths, ending
on ,,G, and authentic cadence on G (mm. 26-27).
One-measure transition to finale (m. 27);
reappearance of sixteenth notes leading to
thirty-second notes in next measure. Cantus
begins statement of G-hypodorian mode.

Section III

mm. 28-31. Finale. Scalar sixteenth- and thirty-second


notes in bassus. Diatonic climb from 'D to ''D
in cantus, stating G-hypodorian mode, continues
in mm. 27-29. Half note ''D followed by dimi-
nution of point in eighth notes, first from
''D to 'A, then from 'G to 'D.

mm. 32-33. Thirty-second-note scalar material moves from


bassus to cantus via tenor. Diminuted point
repeated in bassus, first from ,G to ,D, then
from ,D to ,,A. The combination of the two
statements create two conjunct tetrachords with
an added lower ,,G. Authentic cadence on G.
117

mm. 34-36. Arpeggiated thirty-second notes in the cantus


outline chords built on the tuba (m. 34).
A scalar string of thirty-second notes, in the
tenor, is imitated for a short period in the bas-
sus. These two strings lead to a prolonged C-
minor triad ('C in the bassus; 'E-flat in the
cantus with ,B and 'D lower neighbors), and
a Plagal cadence on G.

P. 3 "Farewell"

Section I

mm. 1-11. Initial point of imitation. Ascending chromatic


point, starting with a half note 'A, rising to
''D; imitated exactly at the fifth and octave.
Sequence of imitation: cantus ('A), altus ('D),
tenor (,A), bassus (,D). Plagal cadence,
approached by parallel fifths between tenor and
bassus.

mm. 11-21. Second point of imitation. Point in bassus,


imitated at octave by cantus, at fifth by
bassus. Suspensions in upper three parts de-
corated by sixteenth notes. Authentic cadence
on G.

Section II

mm. 21-27. Transition: Continuation of decorated sus-


pensions, and sixteenth notes. No statement of
original point, no chromatic steps.

mm. 27-30. Third point of imitation: ascending scalar


fourth figure in tenor imitated at octave by
tenor. Last statement of point until section
III, in cantus (mm. 27-28). Authentic cadence
on D, with cross relation ('C-sharp-''C-natural)
on penultimate A chord.

mm. 30-36. Continuation of same texture. Bassus outlines


the ,,G to ,D diapente, and stays within ,,G to
,G octave. Cantus outlines 'G to ''D diapente.
Suspensions continue to be numerous, along with
sixteenth-, eighth-, and quarter-note rhythms.
Authentic cadence on D.
118

Section III

mm. 36-39. Transition: Cantus drops out low Altus with


tenor and bassus. Consecutive discords in
tenor and bassus (tritone to major second, m.
38). Elided authentic cadence on G.

mm. 40-45. Original point reappears in cantus beginning on


'D (m. 39), and is repeated from 'A (m. 41).
Both versions linked together comprise a 'D to
''D chromatic scalar octave. Bassus outlines
,G to ,,D diatonic scale.
mm. 46-48. Point in diminution, beginning in cantus (anacru-
sis to m. 46 'D), imitated by tenor (,A), altus
('D), cantus ('A), tenor (,A).
mm. 49-53. Bassus in sequence of descending fourths below
descending sequence of suspensions in cantus.
Authentic cadence on A.
Bassus then outlines ,C to ,,G movement for
prolongation of G; cantus outlines descending
'G to 'D diatessaron. Final G chord prolonged
over six beats.

Counterpoint

The points of both of these works outline a perfect

fourth filled by chromatic half steps. In P. 2, the point

begins on the final, and descends to the tuba while in P. 3

it begins on the supertonic of the mode and ascends to the

tuba. Example 23 illustrates the points of P. 2 and

P. 3.
119

Example 23. P. 2 and P. 3, Points, with First Imitation.

a. P. 2, mm. 1-3.

A1. smilmma
lam

b. P. 3, mm. 1-4.

roi- Flpft
or-- a f--T-T-.
F- WMIT
Ida -- j
& ,Now

Unlike the fantasias P. 4, P. 5, P. 6, and P. 7, discussed

in Chapter IV, P. 2 and P. 3 exhibit similar imitative pro-

cedures; the second voice enters a fifth above or below the

first voice, and the third voice enters an octave above or

below the first. In contrast, it must be remembered that

the minor-third-mode fantasias exhibit various imitative

configurations at the fifth and octave; some voices enter

without participating in the imitation. The opening

measures of P. 1 exhibit imitation only at the octave;


120

entries at the fifth do not occur until the second point of

imitation. However, in P. 2 this configuration is slightly

altered. The bassus enters first, followed successively by

the tenor a fifth above, and the altus an octave above.

Before the cantus makes its entry, the bassus returns, a

fourth below its original appearance. The cantus then

enters at the proper place, a fifth above the altus. In

both these fantasias the point is repeated several times

after the four initial entries.

One of the problems in analyzing the chromatic fan-

tasias has to do with the use of chromatic half steps.

Joseph Kerman, in his study of the Elizabethan madrigal,

defines a chromatic step as "a note followed by its

alteration." He defines the four different types of chro-

matic movement used in the Italian and later the English

madrigals:

1. Chromatic step in one voice, with the others


stationary. This is a chromatic passing note
and is rare until its systematic exploitation
by Gesualdo. The simplest and most common
variety has the chromatic step as the third of
a triad, which is changed from major to minor.

2. Chromatic step in one voice, with the others


moving diatonically or remaining stationary.
Such progressions connect triads whose roots
are a third apart and which are of the same
modality: both chords are major triads, or
both are minor triads. The former is much more
usual. Rore rarely went further than this.
121

3. Chromatic steps in two voices simultaneously,


with the others moving diatonically. Such pro-
gressions involve triads whose roots are third
apart but whose modalities differ. The effect
is correspondingly more intense.

4. It is theoretically possible to carry this to


the limit and write a progression with three
chromatic half steps occurring simultaneously.
Almost all the examples that may be found are
from Gesualdo. 2

Chromatic movement in these works occurs only in con-

junction with full or partial statements of the point.

Dowland's chromatic movement follows the first three of the

four types quoted above. The direction of chromatic

movement is established by the point; very few chromatic

steps move contrary to the direction of the point. Hence,

most of the chromatic steps occurring in P. 2 descend, while

those in P. 3 ascend. Types 1 and 2 are the most common;

type 4 cannot be found in the chromatic fantasias. The

examples of type 1 movement occur without any deviation from

the norm defined in Kerman's work. The third of a triad

moves a chromatic step up or down, changing the mode of the

chord. P. 2 contains three examples of this movement (mm.

7, 14, 18). Because of the descending point, major triads

are changed to minor as the third in each case is lowered.

As expected, the ascending point of P. 3 causes a movement

2. Joseph Kerman, The Elizabethan Madrigal a Comparative


Study (New York: American Musicological Society, 1962),
213.
122

from minor to major. Example 24 illustrates type 1 chro-

matic movement.

Example 24. Type 1 Chromatic Movement.

a. P. 2, m. 7, major to minor; chromatic variant of


the portamento.

WME

AM

qw MWITI

b. P. 2 m. 16. major to minor.

c. P. 3, m. 48, minor to major.

-i AM
123

The most common chromatic movement in these works,

type 2, is also the most used in Italian and English

madrigals from this same period. This type of movement pro-

vides the most flexibility; the other voices may move by

skip or diatonic step in either parallel or contrary motion

around the voice with the chromatic step. Some cases of

Dowland's type two movement do not exhibit the harmonic

relationship of two triads a third apart in the same mode,

described in Kerman's work (See Example 25 a, e). Again,

the only limitation lies in the direction of chromatic

movement established by the point. One of the most inter-

esting instances of type 2 movement, the finale of P. 2,

exhibits extended use of this type (mm. 28-36). The inter-

vallic relationship of the simultaneities between the two

voices consists mostly of parallel thirds interspersed with

sixths, octaves, and fifths. The diminuted point, and the

outline of the range unify and close the piece; the virtuoso

writing provides a climactic end.


124

Example 25. Type 2 Chromatic Movement.

P. 2

a. m. 5.

AI~
b. m. 8

I
'V.
loom r

C. mm. 30.
125

P. 3

d. m. 4.

IIIF

e. m. 40.

Because chromatic steps in these works mostly move in

the direction established by the point of a given piece, two

simultaneously occurring chromatic steps usually move in

parallel motion. The rules of sixteenth-century counter-

point forbid the use of parallel perfect concords, or any

parallel discords. These restrictions leave only the use of

parallel imperfect concords or thirds and sixths in type 3

movement. Two of the three examples of type 3 movement in

P. 2 utilize parallel sixths, while the only instance in

P. 3 utilizes thirds.
126

P. 2 contains one case where a chromatic step moves

against the direction of the point (m. 20). While the

'G-sharp in the cantus moves to 'G-natural, the 'C-natural

in the tenor moves to a 'C-sharp. In P. 3, both chromatic

steps ascend; the two lines comprise the point in dimin-


ution, along with its imitation. Example 26 illustrates

type 3 chromatic movement.

Example 26. Type 3 Chromatic Movement.

a. P. 2, m. 18-20

_ _ __ _ _
A

___ __ ~-wj. a

b. P. 3, m. 47.

op op
I
r V F
127

One of the unusual characteristics of these fantasias

is the occurrence of consecutive perfect concords of the

same kind. Why Dowland chose to use a contrapuntal movement

which Morley and every other theorist of the fifteenth and

sixteenth centuries advised against is not known. 3 In P. 2,

the consecutive perfect concords occur in two measures of

Section II of the work. In m. 20, the octaves are found

between altus and bassus (E over ,E to 'D over ,D), fol-

lowed by another set in m. 22, between bassus and tenor (,E

over ,,E to ,A over,,A).

In comparison, P. 3 contains no consecutive octaves;

four occurrences of consecutive fifths, again between bassus

and tenor, appear in the piece. In the first case, three

fifths occur in succession. Although the bassus between the

second and third fifths contains a passing tone, the effect

remains (in. 11). In the second case, a melodic leap of a

fifth separates the consecutive concords; the delay of the

second of the tenor notes by a sixteenth rest does not sig-

nificantly diminish the effect (in. 27). While the first two

instances of consecutive fifths might be considered ques-

tionable, because of the bassus passing tone, in the first

case, and the sixteenth rest in the second, the next two

3. Thomas Morley, A Plain and Easie Introduction to


Practicall Musicke, ed. R. Alec Harmon (New York:
Norton, 1952), 143.
128

instances are indisputable. The first of these two examples

contains another leap, this time an ascending fourth, from

, ,A-,E to ,D-,A (m. 33) In contrast, a whole step separates

the two fifths in the second example, and a syncopated

figure delays the entrance of the first tenor note, but the

end result is that of consecutive fifths. Instances of con-

secutive perfect concords are shown in Example 27.

Example 27. Consecutive Perfect Concords in the Chromatic


Fantasias.

a. P. 2, m. 20.

b. P. 2. m. 22.
129

c. P. 3, m. I1.

d. P. 3, m. 27.

e. P. 3, m. 33.
130

f. P. 3, m. 37.

A glance at all of the parallel perfect concords in

both works reveals that the bottom note of each interval

invariably lies in the bassus, with the top note occurring

in the tenor or altus. Any appearance of consecutive

octaves or fifths negates the contrapuntal aspect of the

texture in those two voices, thus focusing attention, at

that instance, on the harmonic aspect of the piece. Five

out of the six examples contain movement between two root-

position chords. In the only exception (example 27 a), a

first-inversion C-augmented triad moves to a root-position D

chord. Moreover, all but one of these instances occur on or

near cadences, and in four of the six examples cited, the

first perfect concord skips up or down to the second by

fourth or fifth.

In P. 2, both of the examples of consecutive octaves

precede the E cadence, outlining the new A-E emphasis in the

bassus. The E-D parallel octaves in m. 20 occur one measure


131

before a plagal cadence on A. Shortly thereafter, the E-G

octaves prepare an authentic cadence on E; the chromatic

portamento in the altus deceptively prepares us for an

authentic cadence on A, but the ,G-natural in the altus

skips to a 'C, and the tonality shifts again. This A-minor

triad moves to the penultimate B-major triad and the E

cadence (Example 27 a, b).

The first occurrence of consecutive fifths in P. 3

also sets up an interesting cadential situation (m. 11,

Example 27 c). A series of three parallel fifths weakens a

plagal cadence on A. A root-position D-major triad moves to

a passing-C-seventh chord, and then to an A-minor triad; the

passing 'B-flat cantus resolves up to the third ('C) of A

minor. It would be hard to tell that a cadence had occurred

if the following measure did not continue to emphasize the

,A bassus; in any case, this cadence is very weak. The next

two examples of consecutive fifths occur at elided cadences

(mm. 27, 33; Example 27 d, e). In both cases the parallel

movement outlines weak vertical movement. In the last

example, no cadence occurs; the effect of the parallel

movement is diminished by the syncopation in the tenor (m.

37; Example 27 f). Nevertheless, emphasis on the contra-

puntal aspect is shifted to the vertical aspect for a short

time. Whether or not these movements represent the


132

beginnings of a shift by Dowland from the linear aspect to a

more vertical emphasis or sense of instrumental sonority can

only be a conjecture, an issue that is beyond the scope of

this thesis.

One of the unusual features of these works, other

than the chromaticism, is the consistently thick counter-

point found throughout each fantasia. The frequent use of

stretto and recurrence of the points throughout each of

these works cause voices not to drop out of the texture for

any length of time. The compression of entries caused by

stretto builds tension in the thick texture. P. 2, like

P. 1, is articulated by cadences that define the smaller

sections contained therein. On the other hand, P. 3

functions like the minor-third-mode fantasias where strong

cadences occur only at major sections. Each of the chro-

matic fantasias can also be divided into three major

sections, governed by motivic and textural considerations.

Like P. 4 and P. 6, the points of the chromatic fantasias

enter at the fifth and octave; once all voices have entered,

the texture usually contains no less than three voices. The

number of voices in use in the other fantasias fluctuates

according to the demands of formal tension and motivic

development, often decreasing to as few as two in the scalar

passages. The only major passage, other than the initial


133

points of imitation, that contains less than three voices is

found in the finale of P. 2. Since the variation in the

number of voices is so slight, little tension can be gen-

erated by the number of several voices, because the listener

becomes used to the thick texture. Hence, other ways must

be found to create the contrast necessary to develop areas

of relative tension and repose.

The use of stretto to increase tension in these thick

textures has already been mentioned. Another way to vary

the balance of tension and repose is through the contrast of

fast and slow articulations; this technique has been used in

conjunction with variations in the number of voices in the

other fantasias. Dowland also uses this technique at the

beginning of each of the chromatic fantasias; the slow half

and quarter notes in the point are followed in the same

voice by eighth and sixteenth.notes as the next voice begins

an imitation. In fact, the overall form in P. 2 is

organized in this way. After the point is introduced in

Section I, sixteenth and eighth notes dominate the texture,

being present in at least one voice at any one moment (mm.

1-16). Any time one voice in a contrapuntal setting con-

tains rhythms that are faster than the others, the composite

rhythm takes on the character of the fastest moving voice.

Section II exhibits a slower composite rhythm; quarter notes


134

and eighth notes are the prevailing rhythmic values (mm.

17-26). Sixteenth notes only appear twice as decorations

for suspensions in the middle of this section, and then

return in force in a transitional measure, in preparation

for the thirty-second notes that dominate the finale section

(m. 27). Sections I and III, with their faster articu-

lations and consequent tension surround the relative repose

of Section II, creating a three-part rhythmic arch form.

On the other hand, the rhythmic texture of P. 3 is

almost completely homogeneous; after the introduction of the

point, sixteenth and eighth notes dominate the compound

rhythm. Hence, in this work texture does not play a part in

delineating major sections or creating tension. A balance

of tension and repose is achieved in other ways that will be

discussed under subsequent headings in this chapter.

Dissonance

Another way of accomplishing contrast between tension

and release is through the use of dissonance. In no other

group of Dowland's fantasias do discords play such an

important part in the texture and generation of tension.

Dissonances act mostly as decorations in the other fan-

tasias; this is particularly true of suspensions, which

mostly decorate cadences. Diatonic dissonances in the


135

chromatic works function in the same way as they do in the

other fantasias; this discussion will focus on those disso-

nances affected by chromaticism.4

Passing tones operate in the same way they have in

the other fantasias; they occur, for the most part, on weak

beats. However, as with the minor-third-mode fantasias,

accented passing tones, falling on the strong part of the

second half of the beat, are not uncommon. Two accented

passing tones can be found on the strong part of the fourth

beat of the measure, in P. 3 (mm. 13, 19). Most chromatic

notes are quarter-note or half-note duration, making them

too long to be used as passing tones; only one quarter-note

passing tone was found in the minor-third-mode fantasias.

Lines of diatonic sixteenth and eighth notes accompany the

slower chromatic lines, and these lines are diminuted to

match the diminuted chromatic line, as in the finale of

P. 2. In instances where no fast moving line accompanies

the chromatic voice, a slow homophonic texture ensues.

Because the dyad preceding the passing tone is usually a

sixth or a third, the subsequent chromatic alteration only

serves to alter the quality of the implied triad; this

4. A brief discussion of accented passing tones and neigh-


boring tones in P. 3 is included in the section entitled
Modality, later in this chapter, because of the effect
these dissonances have on the perception of modality in
that work. They are omitted here in order to avoid the
repetition of material from other chapters.
136

movement is characteristic of the type 1 chromatic movement

discussed above (see Example 24). Hence, no chromatic

passing tones occur in these works.

In the context of simple dissonances, the cross

relation is uncommon in the chromatic fantasias; however,

more are found in these two works than in the four minor-

third-mode fantasias. The successive variety occurs twice

in P. 2, and once in P. 3, and two examples of the simulta-

neous type also occur in P. 3. Because the juxtaposition of

chromatic lines in these works would provide an environment

ripe for cross relations, it is surprising that more are not

found. The two successive cross relations in P. 2 appear in

close proximity, between the diatonic bassus and the synco-

pated, chromatic altus separated by only one chord (m. 9).

Here, the point is stated in imitation in the cantus and

altus. In the first example, a 'C-sharp in the altus

follows a ,C-natural in the bassus; in the second instance,

a ,B-natural succeeds a ,,B-flat. The successive cross

relation in P. 3 is especially interesting, occurring in

conjunction with a four-three suspension, above a ,,D bassus

(m. 21). Above the ,,D, the suspension ('G), and the third

of the chord ('F- natural) are struck together, in cantus

and altus, on the first beat of the measure, accentuating

the discord. The altus then descends in eighth notes, the


137

cantus in quarter notes. The suspension in the cantus is

resolved by 'F-sharp on the second beat, creating the cross

relation with the 'F-natural of the first beat. In the

simultaneous cross relations the lower note is sustained as

the chromatic alteration enters in an upper voice. Above a

dotted-half-note ,F-sharp, a dotted-eighth-note 'F-natural

enters, preceded by a sixteenth rest and a sixteenth-note 'D

(m.14). These two notes are allowed to sound together for a

relatively long time. The sixteenth-note 'E, following the

'F-sharp in the altus, prolongs the discord. The second

example is similar: above a 'C-sharp quarter note, on the

fourth beat of the measure, a ''C-natural enters on the

second half of the beat, and becomes a suspension in the

first beat of the next bar (mm. 30-31). Again the disso-

nance is prolonged. In these works and in the

minor-third-mode works, cross relations use only limited

number of pitches and their chromatic alterations, spe-

cifically, B-flat/B-natural, C-natural/C-sharp, and

F-natural/F-sharp. Example 28 exhibits cross relations

found in the chromatic fantasias.


138

Example 28. Cross Relations in the Chromatic Fantasias.

Successive

a. P. 2, m. 9.

m L
-u ff
r

--.. mom

1 LJL
b-alm
v IM.Ly

b. P. 3, m. 21.

I L-
I pF IV
a iI
I
II t: 71. -_I II
-

i
NL Aj*
W a - mlrlll"f;
I" dam
Am V-7 I
Xl B
,r,%
-- P L
-

I I %--- LJF 13 YAW I-d&JU W A

Th
I\Fu-

Simultaneous

c. P. 3, m. 14

11 ILO a AWN IAL


139

d. P. 3, m. 30

Of all the dissonances found in the chromatic fan-

tasias, with the exception of the unaccented passing tone,

the suspension is used most frequently. Unlike the sus-

pensions found in the diatonic fantasias, mostly before

cadences, those in the chromatic fantasias can occur any-

where within a phrase, thereby creating contrapuntal

tension. In P. 2, for example, two decorated suspensions

appear in the middle of phrases as the point is stated in

other voices (mm. 5, 7). After a cadence on G where the

tuba chord is suspended, four more suspensions appear in

close imitation (mm. 12-14). In the thirteen measures

between measure 14 and the finale, five more occur. P. 3

operates in the same way; suspensions are scattered

throughout the piece. Beginning with the fifth measure from

the end, a chain of six suspensions, can be found, one

occurring on each beat (mm. 49-51).


140

In these fantasias, many varieties of suspensions can

be found, including the repeated suspension, the portamento

suspension, and different kinds of resolutions ornamented

with sixteenth notes. Because of the many suspensions found

in these works, discussion wil3 be limited to those unique

to these works, or those not commonly found in any of

Dowland's fantasias. A type of suspension characteristic of

P. 2 uses chromaticism in the resolution. It is prepared in

the normal fashion and stated. A portamento follows, with

or without ornamentation, before the line descends a chro-

matic half step to the true resolution. Three undecorated

examples occur in close succession in P. 2. In each case,

the portamento occurs followed by its chromatic resolution

on the next beat, often accompanied by a change in sonority

(mm. 13-14). In the first case, a seven-six suspension

occurs above an ,,E bassus. The suspension, 'D, moves to a

'C-sharp portamento, and the bassus moves to ,,E-flat. The

'C-natural resolution follows and the implied C-sharp minor

sonority moves to a full C-minor chord (m. 13, beats 3-4).

The second suspension does not accompany a change of

sonority: the four-three suspension in the altus, above the

,,D bassus, moves to an 'F-sharp portamento, then resolves

to 'F-natural, before a ''D signals an entrance of the point

in the cantus. This ''D also prepares another four-three


141

suspension above an , ,A bassus; the resolution, ' 'C-sharp

moves to a ''C-natural, as the bassus moves by step from ,A

to ,C (m. 14, beats 3-4). Chromatic movement also occurs in

conjunction with decorated resolutions; one instance occurs

at the beginning of the piece (m. 7). After the extended

suspension in the tenor moves to a ,G-sharp portamento, by

sixteenth notes. The line continues down to an ,F-sharp

lower neighbor, and the ,G-natural resolution. The G-sharp

minor chord changes to G-natural minor as the bassus moves

simultaneously with the tenor to ,,B-flat. Another example

in the middle of the piece exhibits less ornamentation and

does not result in a change of sonority (m. 22). A four-

three suspension above an ,,E bassus moves from ,A to a

,G-sharp portamento, down to an F-sharp lower neighbor, and

up to the G-natural resolution. The bassus does not move

until after the resolution is completed. In all of the

above suspensions the portamento is altered by chromatic

step, before the final resolution. Hence, the final goal of

the resolution comes indirectly, prolonging the tension of

the particular event by destabilizing the counterpoint.

The diatonic portamento resolution, a type infre-

quently found in P. 1 or the minor-third-mode fantasias, is

more plentiful in P. 3; only one can be found in P. 2. The

example in P. 2 occurs with a nine-eight suspension above a


142

,,B-flat bassus (m. 10). Although the sonority does not

change, the ,B-flat resolution acts as a consonant-fourth

preparation for the next suspension, above the ,,F bassus.

Like the chromatic portamento resolutions in P. 2, the dia-

tonic portamento resolutions in P. 3 can occur with or

without a subsequent change in the vertical aspect. The

first example contains a portamento followed by a change in

sonority (m. 25). Above an ,F bassus, a ,B-flat four-three

suspension resolves to an ,A portamento, which anticipates a

movement to an A-diminished chord. Here, the suspension is

prepared and executed in the normal way. The portamento

occurs as a resolution to the suspension; but the repeated

resolution functions as a factor of a new chord. In the

next example, the seven-six suspension above the ,G bassus

is resolved by portamento in the altus; the repeated 'E

remains part of the initial sonority, before preparing the

new suspension (m. 33). When the sonority following the

portamento remains the same, tension is reduced, because the

resolution restabilizes the chord. A subsequent change of

the vertical aspect, however, increases tension because of

the movement to a new sonority. Sometimes a change in the

vertical aspect is accompanied with a new suspension, pre-

pared with a consonant fourth, further increasing the

contrapuntal tension. The suspensions discussed above are

found in Example 29.


143

Example 29. Suspensions in the Chromatic Fantasias.

Chromatic Portamenti

a. P. 2, mm. 13-14.

I AvolthjA I
Ad * YIIIVL I
A w t u

I rAq ft -. g,,ffLl '% L


N %-
LF

b* Po 2.

A -- - -- I

qW

7N5

-T I -h-Ift v

C. P. 2t mm. 21-22.

I
lot
lei

Ex.
IF" I FA
Isk

I .r i- I
10
144

Diatonic Portamenti

d. P. 2, mm. 10-12.

__iI [ I

e. P.3 . 25.

f. P.3,rm 33.
145

g. P. 3, m. 50

Consonant fourths in the chromatic fantasias occur

with about the same frequency as those in the diatonic

works: they are relatively common in the chromatic works,

when considered in the context of irregular suspensions.

While two occur in P. 1, and three occur in the four minor-

third-mode fantasias, four can be found in the two chromatic

fantasias. Two of the four examples occur in conjunction

with portamenti. In the first example in P. 2, the tenor

,F-sharp moves to a dotted-eighth-note ,G, creating the con-

sonant fourth, which is followed by a sixteenth-note ,A.

This ,A, repeated in the next measure, moves by sixteenth

portamento to ,G; the repeated eighth-note ,B, tied to the

eighth-note suspension, prepares it as the quarter-note ,D

bassus is repeated (m. 11, see Example 29 d). The first

consonant fourth in P. 3 is undoubtedly a more usual example

(m. 26). Above a half-note ,D bassus, the tenor ,A moves to

,G by eighth notes. The bassus ,D is repeated, and the


146

four-three suspension occurs accompanied by sixteenth-note

decoration. The last two instances, in P. 3, are even more

typical of this type of preparation, showing similarity to

two examples in P. 7. A ''C-sharp-' 'D-' 'C-sharp

occurs above an ,A bassus; the consonant-fourth preparation

and four-three suspension occur successively as the meaning

of the ''D changes (m. 35). A similar example, in m. 40

between bassus and tenor imitates m. 35. Example 30 illus-

trates the consonant-fourth preparations discussed above.

Example 30. Consonant Fourth Preparations of Suspensions.

a. P. 2, mm. 11-12.

b. P. 3, m. 26.
147

c. P. 3, m. 35, similar to m. 39.

A MM= - l!!n__.
'WIAJ T
7

In P. 3, Dowland utilizes skips from dissonance (m.

8). In the first case, parallel sixths between tenor and

cantus are decorated by changing tones, creating an inter-

vallic movement 6-7-6-7. Above a ,D bassus, the cantus

skips down from 'B-flat to 'G, which moves by step back up

to 'A. Although the bassus is consonant with the 'A's and

the 'B-flat, the latter note skips down to the dissonant 'G.

The C generates dissonances with the two B-flats. In the

second instance, an ,,A is in the bassus; above it an 'A is

followed by a 'B-flat, a 'G, and another 'A (m. 12). In

both cases, the four-note groups begin and end with con-

sonant notes, with the dissonances between leaving the

consonances by an upward step and reapproaching them from

below, thereby acting as changing tones.

In the discussion of consecutive-perfect concords, a

shift in emphasis from the linear aspect to the vertical

aspect was observed. A similar procedure occurs in cases


148

where two discords occur consecutively. In P. 2, a perfect

fourth moves to a diminished fifth (mm. 18-19). On the last

half beat of the measure, above a half-note ,A bassus, an

eighth-note 'D lower neighbor is tied across the bar. Below

this pair of tied eighth notes, the bassus moves from ,A to

G-sharp, changing the interval from a perfect fourth to a

diminished fifth.5 The 'E in turn is repeated above the con-

sequent ,G-natural in the bassus, which continues the point.

Perhaps the most striking example of dissonance in these

works is the nine-seven voice exchange (m. 10). Although

the B-flats are consonant to the ,E-flat bassus, they are

dissonant with the A's around them. As the tenor moves from

,G to ,A, the cantus moves from 'G to B-flat. The second

tenor-altus dyad here consists of a ninth; the voice

exchange on the next dyad (,B-flat tenor, 'A cantus) results

5. Glarean makes a distinction between the "semidiapente"


and the tritone: "And although it is a fifth, it still
is removed from the tritone by a comma, and it exceeds
the fourth only by a small semitone." Heinrich Glarean,
Dodecachordan, 2 vols, translation, transcription, and
commentary by Clement A. Miller (American Institute of
Musicology, 1965), I, 60. Zarlino also distinguishes the
semidiapente from the tritone (semidiatessaron) and
allows its occasional use provided, "that the semidia-
pente or tritone be preceded immediately by a perfect or
imperfect consonance. The semidiapente is then tempered
by the preceding and following consonance in such a way
that the effect is no longer poor, but good, as
experience has proved." Dowland disregards this rule by
preceding the semidiapente with a dissonant diatessaron
(perfect fourth). Gioseffo Zarlino, The Art of
Counterpoint, Part III of Le istitutione harmoniche,
trans. Guy A. Marco and Claude Palisca (New London: Yale
University Press, 1968), 68.
149

in a seventh. A fifth on the last half-beat of the measure

resolves the extended passing dissonance. A second pair of

consecutive discords occurs in m, 40, between the tenor and

bassus. As the bassus ascends the ,,D-,,G diapente, the

tenor skips from ,D to ,A, and steps down to ,G, and then

repeats the ,G. The resulting counterpoint creates a

tritone-major-ninth succession. Example 31 illustrates

skips away from dissonance and consecutive discords.

Example 31. Skips Away From Dissonance, Consecutive Discords.

a. P. 3, m. 8, skip away from dissonance.

b. P. 3, m. 12, skip away from dissonance.


150

C. P. 2, mm. 18-19, consecutive discords, perfect


fourth to tritone.

A
40
Li

r7w'Wo
6A 4p
w A! L
El AM
dP

d. P. 3, m. 10, nine-seven voice exchange.

e. P. 3, m. 38, consecutive discords, tritone to


major ninth.

A
--ld

EX.,

I
pwi

ON
151

While both of these fantasias contain some unusual

dissonances, in most respects, they still conform to

standard late sixteenth-century practice. However, the fre-

quency of unusual occurrences in the chromatic works far

exceeds that of the other five fantasias. Dissonance, in

the diatonic works, is used to decorate cadences, and fill

in skips; in the chromatic works, it becomes part of the

texture, acting as a controller of tension. This can be

seen in the locations, frequency of, and number of

uncommon suspensions in both types of fantasia. Clearly,

the chromatic fantasias contain more suspensions in

locations other than cadences, and the unusual suspensions

in these works far outnumber those found in the diatonic

works. Hence, dissonances, especially those not associated

with cadences, contribute to contrapuntal tension: delayed

resolutions and chromatic portamenti obscure the expected

goal of a line. The effect of dissonance on modality will

be discussed in the section of this chapter entitled,

"Modality."

Motivic Development

In the diatonic works described in Chapters III and

IV, Dowland emphasized certain ideas from the point or other

parts of the work in order to provide unity throughout a


152

fantasia. Three motives are developed in P. 1: one origi-

nates in the point, but two others come from ideas found

later in the piece. The minor-third-mode fantasias each

develop one idea derived from the point. In both of these

types of fantasia, the point is imitated at the beginning

and then disappears, only returning in the fragmented form

of motivic development. The use of chromatic points in P. 2

and P. 3 sets up a unique situation for motivic development;

any chromatic half step provides an obvious reference to the

point. Moreover, the permutation of the entire point

throughout the piece further reinforces the unity of the

piece.6

Motivic development occurs in P. 2 via two methods:

first, through rhythmic changes in reiterations of the point

and second, through fragmentation of the point itself. The

point enters in the bassus on beat 1 of the measure, fol-

lowed by imitations in other voices on the third beats of

successive measures (mm. 1-8). This procedure changes after

the embellished altus entrance in measure 8, when the tenor

6. The main difference between Italian Fantasias and English


fantasias centers around the recurring points of Italian
works of this genre and the diversity of material intro-
duced in English works. Dowland's use of both of these
procedures shows both the influence gained from his
travels to Italy and his love for the Anglicized forms of
his time. Christopher Field, Eugene Helm, William
Drabkin, "Fantasia," The New Groves Dictionary of Music
and Musicians, 20 vols., ed. Stanley Sadie (London:
Macmillan, 1980), VI, 381.
153

enters in stretto on the second half of beat one (m. 9).

Three measures later, the bassus enters again on beat 3 (m.

12). The tenor follows in the next measure, beat 2 ('D),


with a fragment of the point in suspension, and altus ( 'G)

and cantus (''D) enter above it in stretto (mm. 12-15). At

the beginning of section II another area of stretto occurs,

starting with the bassus ('D) and continuing with fragments

of the point in the cantus ('A) and altus ('D) (mm. 17-20,

see Example 32).

Example 32. P. 2, mm. 17-19, Fragmentation of the


Point.

ir I

rAqk Ll I
um bi :J
U
AIL
--,r N
AD
At M

After measure 20, the point disappears, save for one chro-

matic portamento (m. 22). The point returns in the cantus

part of the finale beginning on the half-note 'D of the

D-hypodorian scale (m. 29). With the exception of the ''D

half note, the point is diminuted throughout the finale.

The cantus states the point first on ''D and then after a

two-note interruption, states it again on 'G (mm. 31). The


154

bassus then states both transpositions of the point,

beginning each entry on quarter notes and continuing it in

eighth notes. This statement comprises the conjunct tetra-


7
chords with the ,,G extension, mentioned above.

P. 3, in comparison, exhibits less stretto than P. 2,

and its point undergoes less rhythmic displacement. With

the exception of the decorated entry in section II (m. 27),

no rhythmic change occurs until the point returns in section

III (m. 39). However, at the beginning of section III, a

fragment of the point appears in the Altus (,A, mm. 39-40).

Beginning in m. 40 a complete chromatic scale, outlining

both transpositions of the point appears in quarter notes

(mm. 40-43). Three measures later, another entrance of the

point occurs in the altus; however, it is incomplete because

the 'C-sharp is missing (mm. 43-44). On the last half beat

of the following measure, the point appears in eighth-note

diminution and in stretto (mm. 45-48). The last statement

of the point, similar to the incomplete example in mm.

43-44, occurs three measures from the end of the work. The

formation of entries of the point create a three-part form,

A B A'. The point makes several entries in section I.

Remaining in its original rhythmic character, it always

enters on strong beats of the measure. In section II, it

appears only once, and its initial note is embellished; the

7. See Figure 4, mm. 32-33, p. 116


155

remainder of the section is devoid of chromatic steps. The

point returns in section III and undergoes several changes.

It always enters on the Last half-beat of a measure; it is

sometimes presented in an imcomplete form; it is diminuted

and imitated in stretto. Towards the end of section I, the

entries of the point progressively appear further apart; in

section III, they appear closer together, reaching their

peak at the stretto. Figure 5 illustrates the entries of

the point.

Figure 5. P. 3, frequency of statements of the point.

Measure numbers indicate entries of the point.

Section I (A) II (B) III (A') Coda

1-3-5-8-11-14-18-27 39-40-43-45-47-47-47-48-51

Each of the chromatic fantasias presents a different

treatment of the point. P. 2 concentrates on presenting the

point in different rhythmic guises, wherein it is displaced,

placed in stretto, fragmented and diminuted. In addition to

handling the point in all of these ways, P. 3 also uses it

to build an arch form by more strictly controlling the

number of entries in different sections. Rhythmic dis-

placement, stretto, fragmentation, and diminution are all of

secondary importance in P. 3.
156

Modality

One aspect of these works, made ambiguous by their

chromaticism, is the identification of mode. While the

range may be apparent, the intervallic patterns of the

species are blurred when a chromatic line appears in a given

voice. Moreover, the identity of the final is often obfus-

cated as well, due to the exact imitation of the point at

two different pitch levels. Exact imitation disallows

alterations which identify the authentic and plagal forms of

the mode. The result is a mode stated at two transpo-

sitional levels with two possible diapente, two diatessarons

and two finals. However, apart from their chromaticism,

both works provide clues that reveal their modes and finals.

P. 2, "Forlorn Hope Fancy," dorian mode

In P. 2, none of the upper three voices provide

enough information to identify the mode. Ranges and species

are blurred by the chromatic point; the movement of the top

three voices contains little scalar diatonic activity. The

cantus imitates the point on 'G, twice on ''D; 'A, and again

on ''D (mm. 4, 7, 14, 17, 29). When it is not outlining the

point, it exhibits little movement. After its first

statement of the point, it hovers within the range of 'D-'F

(mm. 6-7). It remains on 'A, after its third imitation of


157

the point. In section II, the diatonic range of the cantus

increases enough to outline the range ,B-'B (mm. 21-26).

The cantus finally reveals the mode in the finale, with an

ascending 'D-''D hypodorian scale. It then states the point

at two levels: ''D-'A and 'G-'D. A two-note interruption

separates the statements of the point; the cantus ends with

arpeggiations of the final and tuba harmonies.

The tenor and altus are so intertwined that it is

often difficult to tell them apart, and Dowland introduces a

fifth voice which confuses the identities of the inner

voices even more (see mm. 10-15, 24, 27). Scalar passages

often cross between the inner voices, and blur their iden-

tities. The altus states the point on 'D (m. 2), 'G (mm. 8,

13), and again on 'D (m. 18.). An interesting embellishment

of the point occurs in the altus after its first imitation

(mm. 5-6). Beginning on 'D, it descends chromatically to

,A, decorating the point with portamenti and lower

neighbors. Another decorated statement of the point in the

altus occurs two measures later; the line skips from 'G, the

first line of the point, to a sixteenth-note quadruplet

beginning with ,B-flat (mm. 8-10). This line then ascends

by step to 'F-sharp, and the point continues descending to

'D. When not stating or decorating the point, the altus is

active in suspensions and embellishments, and only appears


158

in the finale when the thirty-second notes cross from bassus

to cantus. The tenor only states the point once, on 'D in

syncopation with the altus; this imitation is incomplete

(mm. 8-10). In section II, it is assigned one chromatic

step, 'C-'C-sharp (m. 20). Otherwise it drops out and reap-

pears, providing a voice for suspensions and embellishments.

Neither voice exhibits many large leaps or any scalar

movement that makes it cover large ranges within a short

amount of time.

In contrast, the bassus contains many leaps and

scalar movements which give clues about the identity of the

final and of the modal species. As the first imitation of

the point enters in the tenor, the bassus emphasizes D's and

G's (mm. 2-6). In m. 5, the bassus ascends from ,D to ,A,

but immediately returns to a G-D emphasis in the next

measure. The point is imitated again, in mm. 7-8, beginning

on ,D and descending to ,,A; a subsequent ascending ,,A to,G

diatonic scale is followed by an octave leap to ,,G and

another upward leap to ,D. Measures 9-11 clearly outline

the ,,G-,D diapente. In spite of diversions to a D-A

emphasis, the diatonic bassus passages consistently return

to the G-D or G-G intervals. After m. 15, however, the

bassus begins to stress the pitches A and D as the work

moves toward cadences on these two roots (mm. 17, 22).


159

Beginning in m. 16 an octave ,A-,,A is stated in the bassus

followed by a D cadence (m. 17). Three measures later a

descending skip in the bassus from ,D to ,A precedes the

avoided authentic cadence on A (mm. 20, 22); an authentic

cadence on E follows. The bassus then begins to stress A's

and E's (mm. 20-25). A sequence of descending scalar lines

brings the bassus back to the G tonality; an ,E-,,A line

precedes the ,D-,,G diapente mm. 25-27). In the finale, the

bassus emphasizes final and tuba triads, in scalar passages

below the diminuted point in the cantus. The two parts

switch and the bassus states the point in the form of a

double tetrachord, with a lower extension (mm. 32-33).

Here, the point is stated both on ,G-,D, and ,D-,A; the ,A

skips up to ,D and then to the extension, ,G (see Example

33).

Example 33. P. 2, m. 28, tonal emphasis in the bassus.


160

In the last two measures of the piece, Poulton has

overlooked an important point in the tablature, and this is

reflected in her transcription. The 'G in m. 35 should last

a whole-note's length: first because the 'D and 'E-flat

thirty-second notes that follow it clearly belong in the

range of the diapente stated in the altus. Second, Poulton

has neglected an important rule of tablature transcription;

a note should be represented as sounding until another note

on the same string interrupts it. The 'G is written on the

first course, while the 'D's and 'E-flats are located on the

second. With the rearticulated 'G in the following measure,

the final should receive eight beats of emphasis.(m. 35, see

Example 34).

Example 34. P. 2, mm. 35-36, tablature and transcription.

d AA

d d
161

In summary, the cantus, altus and tenor line do little to

reinforce the identity of the mode as stated in the bassus.

The bassus presents the only clear statement of the mode

until the cantus expresses the mode in the finale. The

chromatic portamenti discussed in the section on dissonance,

further undermine the ability of the voices to identify the

mode by altering expected resolutions.

P. 3, "Farewell," dorian mode

In P. 3, all four voices, when not stating the point,

participate in delineating the mode. The cantus immediately

begins stating the 'G-'D diapente after its ambiguous

statement of the point, beginning on 'A (mm. 1-5).

Beginning in m. 6, it descends to 'D, including the lower

diatessaron, thus completing the G-hypodorian scale"(mm.

6-14). It continues within this range stating the point on

'A, and 'D, alternating these statements of the point with

scalar movements and leaps which express the G-hypodorian

mode.

The altus imitates the cantus, on 'D, and continues

within the range 'G-'D (mm. 3-6). After disappearing in mm.

7-14, it returns, extending its range downward to include ,A

in measure 14, and G in measure 22, thus stating the

G-dorian mode. This voice continues, interspersing


162

statements of the point with scalar movement that expresses

G-dorian. Like the cantus, the tenor begins its statement

of the point on the supertonic (,A, m. 5); it then imitates

the other voices by stating its version of the mode,

ascending to 'D (m. 8). However, it does not make its

expected descent to ,D until half way through the piece (m.

27). It then continues in the same fashion as the cantus

and altus, expressing the mode; it does not state the point

again until section III, measure 47. Both the tenor and

altus voices take more time to outline their modes, limiting

their movement for longer amounts of time. This is seen in

the amount of time it takes each voice to reach the lowest

part of its range.

In contrast the bassus enters, stating the point on

,G, immediately descending diatonically to ,,A two measures

later. The extent of its range is revealed when it states

the point beginning on ,,D (mm. 18-20). Like the bassus in

P. 2, this bassus expresses the mode with large leaps and

scalar movements; it states the mode, and its complete range

in a descending scalar line in measures 41 and 42.

While the voices may clearly delineate the species

and range of the mode, one still senses a degree of modal

uncertainty throughout the piece. This ambiguity is felt at

the outset of the work, with the entrance of the point in


163

the cantus on 'A, the supertonic of the mode, followed by an

imitation on 'D. The uncertainty is continued by the

entrances of the chromatic point; chromatic lines blur the

identifying intervallic patterns of the species. The

extraordinary use of dissonances, such as the consecutive

discords (mm. 10, 38), cross relations (mm. 14, 30), and

accented passing or neighboring tones (mm. 13, 19, 32, 44)

weaken the modal expression of the individual voices. The

shift in emphasis, from the horizontal voices to the

vertical sonorities created by the dissonances, takes our

attention away from the linear aspect. In each of the cases

of consecutive discords, at least one voice is outlining a

species of diapente or diatessaron: in the first case, the

tenor is ascending from ,G to 'D (mm. 10-11). In the second

instance the bassus outlines the scalar ,,D-,,G diatessaron,

while the tenor skips from ,D to ,A, and steps down to ,D

outlining the same species an octave higher (m. 38, see

Example 31). In the first case of simultaneous cross

relation, the tenor voice is clearly preparing for a cadence

as it circles around ,G and ,F-sharp (m. 14), but the intro-

duction of the 'F-natural in the altus weakens the momentum

of the tenor leading tone. The second case also occurs

close to a cadence, this time on D. The effect of the

altus' 'C-sharp leading tone is canceled with the


164

introduction of the ''C-natural in the cantus. Moreover,

the subsequent suspension, prepared by the cross relation,

delays the resolution of the cantus by a whole beat: the

''C must move to 'B-flat before finally arriving at ,A.

Accented passing tones and neighboring tones also affect the

listener's ability to hear the mode in varying degrees.

Attention is focused on the vertical discord, rather than

the linear aspect of modal identification. (mm. 13, 19).

The same shift of focus occurs in conjunction with the two

accented-upper-neighboring tones, in the canti of both

examples. In each case, attention is drawn to the B-flat

upper-neighbor and the resulting sonority, and taken away

from the linear aspect. The cantus of the first instance

outlines the G-dorian diapente, while the cantus of the

second outlines the diatessaron (mm. 34, 44). Example 35

illustrates the above instances of accented passing and

neighboring tones.
165

Example 35. Accented Passing and Neighboring Tones in P. 3.


Passing Tones

a. m. 13

b. m.19

Neighboring Tones

C. m. 34
166

d. m. 44

In both P. 2 and P. 3, Dowland works to undermine the

elements of the work that express the mode. Each piece

begins with a chromatic point, imitated in the other voices,

which is then followed by diatonic passages which serve to

identify the mode. In P. 2, the mode is obscured by the

indirection of the cantus, altus and tenor, that remain

within limited ranges, inbetween their statements of the

point. Moreover, the chromatic portamenti create deceptive

resolutions that increase the obscurity of the linear

direction. On the other hand, the individual voices of P. 3

clearly delineate the modal species, in spite of the mis-

leading entrances of the point at the supertonic. The

introduction of striking dissonances, and the modally

dubious chromatic lines, however, take attention away from

the linear aspect and focus it on the sonorities created in

the horizontal environment. In both works, entrances of the

point in stretto increase tension and further obfuscate the

identity of the mode.


167

Conclusion

The chromatic fantasias stand as Dowland's most

daring efforts on the lute, both as fantasias and as solos.

The mere use of chromatic points would be enough to set

these two works apart from the ther five fantasias, but

Dowland takes the chromatic half steps and permeates the

textures with their influence. Although these works share

some traits with the other five fantasias, such as some

types of dissonances, modal procedures, and form, in the

case of P. 2, it is the chromatic half step which sets these

works apart from the other five. The chromatic half step

affects the mood, the modality, dissonance and texture of

the pieces. Among Dowland's fantasias these works are the

most despairing, as their titles "Forlorn Hope," and

"Farewell" indicate. The modality of the chromatic fan-

tasias is affected either by the behavior of the individual

voices, as with P. 2, or by the unique behavior of the dis-

sonances as in P. 3. Dowland demonstrates his most radical

use of dissonances in these pieces; using the chromatic half

step to lengthen, or intensify their effect. The consec-

utive discords in P. 3, though not directly affected by

chromaticism, also contribute to the intensity and set that

work apart from the other fantasias. Unlike the diatonic

works the chromatic fantasias, with the exception of the


168

finale of P. 2, consistently maintain thick textures. This

results in a slower tempo and creates difficulty for the

performer as he strives to maintain the identity of the

individual voices. The form of P. 3 with its absence of a

finale, consistent four- voice texture, and its radical use

of dissonance, gives it a unique place among Dowland's

works. Both of these works deserve to be counted among the

great masterworks of the Renaissance.


169

Chapter VI

CONCLUSION

Dowland's fantasia style exhibits the traits of an

English composer who has traveled to Italy. In five of his

fantasias (P. 1, P. 4-P. 7), he follows the English

practice of introducing new material, in the form of ideas

subtly derived from the point. The English fantasias

include all of the diatonic works. Unlike Italian composers

composing in the Renaissance style of this time, Dowland

does not always employ a strictly contrapuntal texture

throughout his fantasias. Often, after beginning a fantasia

with the obligatory point and imitations, he will contrast

contrapuntal sections with scalar passages, reducing the

number of voices to only two. Indeed, of the "English"

group of works, only P. 4 ends with a thick, contrapuntal

texture in the finale; the others end with scalar and arpeg-

giated passages. On the other hand, Dowland's Italian

influence can be seen in the chromatic fantasias

(P. 2, P. 3). Unlike the diatonic, English works, Dowland

repeats the point throughout the fantasia, and a thick, con-

trapuntal texture dominates the piece. However, in P. 2

influences from both sides can be seen: the piece contains

the Italian reiterations of the point throughout, but then

ends with an English finale, where the point is set in


170

diminution against scalar passages. Moreover, the rhythmic

displacement and fragmentation show a slight resemblance to

motivic development in the diatonic works.

Dowland's fantasias can be divided further into three

groups: works in major-third modes (P. 1), works in minor-

third modes (P. 4-P. 7), and chromatic works in minor-third

modes (P. 3-P. 4). In all three types of fantasias, the

composer is challenged by the task of arranging counterpoint

to fit the limitations of the lute. A maximum of two fast-

moving voices, in conjunction with two simultaneous slower

voices, is possible at one time. Dowland works around these

limitations in several different ways: In the diatonic

works, he builds tension in his works with dissonances, and

contrasts thick textures with sparse, scalar passages. When

he wants fast passages in many voices at one time, he trades

fast and slow articulations between the voices, to give an

illusion of many rapidly moving voices. The chromatic

works, in contrast, maintain thick textures throughout, with

the exception of the finale of P. 2. In these works, the

same techniques of trading fast articulations from one voice

to another are used, but a texture of less than three voices

is uncommon.

Although Dowland uses uncommon dissonances in all of

his fantasias, his most daring examples are reserved for


171

works in the minor-third modes, especially the two chromatic

works. The chromatic fantasias are unique to the set in

this regard, in that dissonances become a part of the

structure itself rather than mere decorations. Suspensions,

in the diatonic works for example, mostly occur at cadences,

whereas in the chromatic works they frequently occur in the

middle of phrases. While the diatonic minor-third-mode fan-

tasias contain some uncommon suspensions, those in the

chromatic works appear far more striking to the ear. The

effect that the chromatic resolutions of suspensions in P. 2

have upon the listener is unmatched anywhere in the diatonic

fantasias. Moreover, the only cases of consecutive dis-

cords, and the most striking use of accented passing and

neighboring tones occur in P. 3.

Central to Dowland's "English" (diatonic) fantasias

is the idea of motivic development. Although new material

is presented in these works, it is always derived from the

point or other previous material in one of two ways: either

through motivic repetition or motivic transformation. In

motivic repetition, an idea is introduced and repeated

throughout a work, often in embellished form. Central to

this type of development is the easy, aural identification

of the idea throughout the piece. In contrast, motivic

transformation presupposes that the motive will be changed


172

into a form not readily linked to the original. P. 1 uses

the first type of development, as does P. 6; P. 5 is exem-

plary of motivic transformation, as is P. 7. P. 4 does not

exhibit any kind of overall motivic development, but is

unified by its cantus firmus; the different points of imi-

tation function as separate motivic entities. Motivic

development in the chromatic fantasias takes on a whole new

character: wherever a chromatic-half step occurs, reference

is made to the point. In P. 2, the point is stated in full

in sections I and III, and fragmented in section II; in

P. 3, it disappears completely in the middle section. In

both these works the motivic developments create arch forms

(A B A').

The overall form of the fantasias is influenced by

one or both of two factors: cadences and textural change.

In P. 1, clear, strong cadences delineate the subsections,

reinforced by changes in texture. P. 4, in contrast, relies

only on textural change; any cadences that occur are too

weak to separate either major sections or subsections. The

rest of the minor-third-mode works use both cadences and

textural change to delineate sections and subsections,

either in conjunction, or separately. On the other hand,

the chromatic fantasias rely only on cadences; the thick

counterpoint throughout each of the pieces precludes the use


173

of texture as a sectional delineater. However, in spite of

these differences in procedure, five of the seven fantasias

fit into the same formal archetype (P. l, P. 2, P. 5, P. 6,

P. 7). All of these works are delineated by sections, that

are marked by cadences or textural changes, and end with a

finale. This finale is marked by virtuoso passages in the

form of rapid scalar passages, parallel sixths, or arpeg-

giations. The two exceptional works, P. 3 and P. 4, are

both entitled "Farewell." In the case of P. 3, the thick

texture carries to the end, and the piece is left without a

finale. While large sections are marked by cadences, no

change in the texture occurs. P. 4, with its slight changes

in texture, lacks strong, dividing separators, and acts as

one big section, governed by the cantus firmus in its top

voice.

One of the most consistent characteristics of

Dowland's fantasias is modality. First, Dowland limits his

use of modes: of the twelve available to him, he restricts

himself to forms of the dorian and ionian modes. He also

limits his use of modes in his other music, adding forms of

the mixolydian and aeolian modes to those listed above. In

the diatonic fantasias, the mode and final are established

in the first statement of the point and confirmed in the

subsequent imitations and free counterpoint. Although


174

cadences occur on notes different from the final or tuba,

the range and species of diapente and diatessaron remain

consistent. This consistency is also indicative of the

chromatic works, but Dowland, while working from a firmly

established modality, obscures the mode in subtle ways. In

the most obvious way, he stifles the expression of the mode

through the use of chromatic points, that are imitated

exactly at the fifth. In P. 3, he begins the first

statement of the point on the supertonic, and imitates it

with the tuba. Not only does this obscure the mode, it also

delays the identification of the final. While a line accom-

panying the point may be diatonic, the ear is attracted to

the chromatic line and misses the expression of the mode in

the diatonic voice. Another way that modality is obfuscated

is through the use of dissonances, that take attention away

from the linear aspect and focus our attention on the dis-

sonant sonorities of a work. Hence, while the eye may be

able to see modally identifying characteristics of a chro-

matic fantasia, Dowland keeps the ear in suspense until the

end of the piece. Perhaps this behavior is indicative of a

breakdown in modal thinking and a beginning of more emphasis

in the horizontal aspect. While this is not written about

in the theoretical treatises of this time, it must be noted

that this is a period marked by experimentation with


175

open-chord tunings on the lute. Such experimentation

resulted in the D-minor tuning current in the eleven-course

French lutes later in the seventeenth century. Moreover,

some early seventeenth-century Italian and French lute

music, by such composers as Piccini, Frescobaldi, and

Gaultier, began to exhibit less emphasis on counterpoint and

more interest in vertical sonorities, especially disso-

nances, which were sometimes left unresolved. However, in

view of the lack of evidence in theoretical treatises, and

Dowland's conservatism, as seen in his translation of

Ornithoparcus' Micrologus, and his angry remarks about

singers and lutenists in the preface to A Pilgrims Solace,

more information would be necessary in order to firmly sub-

stantiate such a thesis.

While Dowland is not known as a particularly inno-

vative composer, having avoided the new monodic style of his

time, he took the conservative forms and infused in them new

vitality.' These fantasias give credence to the belief that

one does not have to be at the vanguard of new musical ideas

in order to be a successful composer; one just has to know

his craft well.

1. Charles Burney recognizes Dowland's abilities as a


lutenist, judging from documents available to him, but
questions his abilities as a composer. See Charles
Burney, A General History of Music, 2 vols., ed. Frank
Mercer (New York: Dover, 1957), II, 116-20.
176

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Books

Andrews, H. K. An Introduction to the Technique of


Palestrina. London: Novello, 1958.

Brook, Barry S. Notating Music with Ordinary Typewriter


Characters; A Plaine and Easie Code System for
Musicke. Flushing, NY.: Queens College, 1964.

Burney, Charles. A General History of Music, 2 vols., ed.


Frank Mercer. New York: Dover, 1957 II.

Glarean, Heinrich. Dodecachordan, 2 vols, translation,


transcription, and commentary by Clement A. Miller.
American Institute of Musicology, 1965, I.

Harwood, Ian. A Brief History of the Lute. London: Lute


Society Booklets, 1975.

Kerman,Joseph. The Elizabethan Madrigal a Comparative


Study. New York: American Musicological Society,
1962.

Lindley, Mark. Lutes, Viols, and Temperaments Cambridge:


Cambridge University Press, 1984.

Morley, Thomas. A Plaine and Easie Introduction to


Practical Musicke, ed. Alec Harmon. New York:
Norton, 1973.

Ornithoparcus, Andreas. Micrologus or Introduction:


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