"Scrutatur"

[Eric Van Tassel 101233.342@xxxxxxxx]

On 25-5-97, Theresa Muir wrote (in part)

 >In Josquin's Praeter rerum, the _secunda pars_ opens with the words:
  'Virtus sancti spiritus opus/ illud caelis operatur. /Initus et exitus
  partus/ tui penitus quis scrutatur?'
 >(That work from heaven was achieved by the power of the Holy Spirit. Who can
fathom the profundity of your labour's beginning and its end?) [Translation
stolen from the CD]
 >... there is a grinding, very expressive dissonance on the word "scrutat[u]r"
which is repeated several times, and is clearly offset from very consonant
surroundings.  It sounds terrific -- but what is there about _that word_ in
this  context, that merits this treatment?

I don't count myself among "Renaissance mavens" (Theresa's term, which I'd
hesitate to use even if I were one), so I ask rather than proclaim: is it
possible that the rationale for the effect is not its "expressive"ness but its
abstruseness; in other words, that this is musica reservata, music which
requires close and knowledgeable scrutiny if it is to make sense?

This interpretation assumes that Josquin thought that his audience, or a segment
of his audience, would be piqued by the challenge of understanding the music
(and, very likely, pleased by the flattery inherent in the implication that they
could rise to that challenge). This may be another example of a point which
Christopher Page has made: that we know more (or are readier to speculate) about
historical performance practice than about "historical listening practice".

						Eric Van Tassel