Claudio Monteverdi (1567-1643) is the composer who best links the Renaissance with the Baroque periods and what was known as the prima pratica and seconda pratica, aka the “old style” and the “modern style”. The former emphasized clear, smooth polyphony as ordered by the Council of Trent and personified by Palestrina (the text was always to be understood), specified under what circumstances dissonances were to be used, and relied on the cantus firmus (fixed song) technique that was the backbone of Gregorian Chant. But he also made use of the stile moderno, which used monody — a single vocal line, sometimes highly ornamented, over a bass line played by lute, theorbo, organ, harpsichord, or a combination — the type of exclamation that was being used in opera, dance forms, and instrumental interludes. And none of his works exemplifies this connection, this perfect marriage, better than his Vespers of 1610.
The sheer variety of sounds and forms in the Vespers is staggering. The opening words are intoned by a soloist and these are answered by full chorus on one note, surrounded by the ornate brass fanfare Monteverdi used for the opening of Orfeo. The following Dixit Dominus has everything — dueling choirs, movements for soloists, simple monody that somehow transmogrifies into elaborate vocalizing; instrumental ritornellos for one piece contain 10 vocal parts and several instruments; the Lauda is polyphonic, the Sonata Sopra is an instrumental canzone, a simple chant by the chorus around which cornetts, sackbuts, and strings riff with different rhythmic and melodic strains.
A perfect example of seconda pratica is the psalm Nigra sum. A solo sings the text while a most ascetic basso continuo underpins the voice. But Monteverdi makes certain that the words are painted by the music: The word “nigra” means “black”, and the vocal line begins on low, long, dark notes presented in the minor key; “formosa”, meaning beauty (in reference to the Bride, or Virgin Mary), winds up in the major, is set higher, and is rhythmically appealing; “surge”, a call to “rise”, is sung to a melismatic rising vocal line. In “Duo seraphim” two angelic voices cry out; when the Trinity is invoked, a third voice, in imitation, joins them. The effects are playful, dramatic, and always surprising to the ear, introducing dissonances, soon resolved, which startle and entertain. The parts of Monteverdi’s Vespers are remarkable; the sum is both articulate and soulful.