What might Luzzasco Luzzaschi’s Ch’io non t’ami, cor mio—a highly virtuosic solo madrigal with keyboard accompaniment—sound like as a four-part vocal work? This reconstruction explores that possibility through the composer’s contrapuntal language and historically informed editorial choices; it does not claim that a lost polyphonic original existed.
Measures 24–29 of the solo madrigal with keyboard accompaniment.
The same excerpt in the hypothetical four-part reconstruction.
The 1601 publication of Madrigali per cantare et sonare a uno, e doi, e tre soprani by Luzzasco Luzzaschi represents a landmark in the history of Italian madrigal composition. Engraved by Simone Verovio, this collection provides insight into the musica secreta performed at the Este court in Ferrara, particularly highlighting the virtuoso singing of the Concerto delle donne. Although published at the turn of the seventeenth century, much of the music likely dates back to the 1580s, when Luzzaschi was actively composing for these elite female singers.
Madrigali di Luzzasco Luzzaschi per cantare et sonare a uno, e doi, e tre soprani (Rome: Simone Verovio, 1601).
The volume's innovative presentation—vocal parts with written-out diminutions in open score, accompanied by a fully realized harpsichord part—sets it apart from contemporary madrigal collections. At the same time, as Laurie Stras has argued, the notated accompaniments and vocal lines in this edition may represent a stylized or skeletal version of what was actually performed. Evidence suggests that the singers also performed with different forms of accompaniment—including lute, harp, or viol—and at times unaccompanied, opening several possibilities for modern performers.
Recently, while revisiting the three solo madrigals that open the collection (⏵︎ Aura soave; ⏵︎ O primavera; and ⏵︎ Ch’io non t’ami), I decided to arrange them for voice and a consort of viols, breaking down the keyboard accompaniment into four parts. This approach seemed logical because the accompaniment can be separated into a consistent four-voice contrapuntal texture, closer to an intabulated polyphonic fabric than to a freely realized continuo. But why not take it a step further and attempt to underlay the poetic text into the other parts?
Transcription and edition of Ch’io non t’ami, cor mio in the original key.
Ch’io non t’ami, cor mio arranged for solo voice and consort, in the original key.
For this reconstruction experiment, I adopted the working hypothesis that the keyboard accompaniment might preserve the texture of a four-voice madrigal. My goal was to explore how such a hypothetical polyphonic version might have sounded. Since none of the pieces in the collection is known to survive in another form, the hypothesis remains conjectural.
The first solo madrigal I chose to reconstruct in polyphonic form was Ch’io non t’ami, cor mio. This process required carefully underlaying the text while interfering as little as possible with Luzzaschi’s counterpoint. The new parts therefore needed to be both idiomatic and stylistically coherent.
In the reconstruction, the soprano is presented without the written-out diminutions of the solo version, because the cantus in the keyboard accompaniment already provides an unornamented line. Given that the soprano is doubled throughout the accompaniment, the notation may also invite performance as an independent keyboard piece.
The solo soprano part of Ch’io non t’ami is notated in the treble clef (G2), within a high-clef configuration. For this reconstruction, I transposed the piece down a fourth to obtain a more practical range for a vocal ensemble. Such downward transposition is consistent with period discussions of high clefs, including those of Zarlino and Zacconi, although practice varied by context. The high tessitura may also reflect the exceptional vocal range and agility associated with the Concerto delle donne. The solo soprano part of O primavera is likewise notated in a high clef, whereas Aura soave uses the C clef on the first line, the standard soprano clef for this period and repertory; no downward transposition was needed for the present ensemble version.
Above, the solo madrigal is shown in its original key as printed in the source, with the cantus highlighted in red, the altus in green, the tenor in blue, and the bassus in black. Below, the madrigal is transposed down a perfect fourth, based on the assumption that the hypothetical original parts would also have been notated in high clefs and intended for transposed performance:
When intabulating a vocal piece for keyboard or lute, the original note values were often altered to suit the needs of the intabulator. Long notes could be broken into smaller values to keep them sounding, or conversely, short repeated notes could be replaced by a long one in the intabulated version. Vincenzo Galilei even wrote that the intabulator should use their judgment to decide whether to rearticulate notes or omit repetitions when adapting a piece. Applying this principle, I adjusted note values where necessary to ensure a natural text setting and smooth phrasing in the reconstructed voice parts.
The word desio has three syllables (de-si-o), requiring three quarter notes, as seen in the cantus and altus. The tenor and bassus, however, have only two notes at this point—a quarter note and a half note, respectively. To align the syllables consistently with the upper voices, I divided the half note into two quarter notes:
Many passages feature the bass repeating a note several times in quick succession, while the right hand plays a chord for each repetition. This creates a rapid reiteration of identical chords, which, as Jack Ashworth and Paul O’Dette note in their chapter on Proto-continuo, can feel somewhat unsettling in practice. However, if we consider the possibility that this was originally a homophonic passage from a four-voice madrigal, it no longer seems unnatural and makes the text underlaying quite easy. Could this serve as evidence that the original form was indeed a polyphonic madrigal, with the repeated notes reflecting syllabic articulation? Or were they simply restruck to reinforce the accompaniment’s harmonies?
The voices distributed in score, with the text underlaid:
In some passages, the intabulation may create the impression that a note is missing from one of the reconstructed parts or that the four-voice texture has temporarily been reduced. In this reconstruction, I interpret some of these moments as unisons in which a doubled pitch was not separately notated. The added notes are therefore editorial and remain hypothetical.
The A′ in the altus, highlighted in orange and placed in parentheses, is not present in the source. I supplied it editorially because the pitch already appears in the cantus and fits the reconstructed voice leading.
The following example presents a similar case. The E′ in the altus on the second syllable of posso—also highlighted in orange and placed in parentheses—is sustained in the tenor in the source. I supplied the E′ in the altus because it continues the line into the following note on lasciar. Both additions remain editorial.
The intabulation often places alto and tenor notes on the same staff in the left hand along with the bassus, which can sometimes obscure the voice leading. Occasionally, the altus and tenor parts cross between the staves, so we need to be attentive in identifying which note belongs to each voice.
In passages with imitative polyphonic entries, it is important to observe the imitations between the voices in order to underlay the text accordingly. Note that the notes corresponding to the altus part (highlighted in orange) sometimes appear in the upper staff and sometimes in the lower staff.
Here is the resulting transcription of this imitative passage, with the text underlaid in each part:
With some imagination and a bit of reverse engineering—by breaking down the polyphonic keyboard accompaniment, removing the written-out diminutions, transposing it down a fourth, and underlaying the poetic text in all four voices—voilà! Here is a highly speculative yet (hopefully) convincing reimagining of this exquisite composition:
While this version remains conjectural, it is grounded in historical information and compositional logic. Through this reconstruction, I hope to imagine how Luzzaschi’s fascinating madrigals might have sounded before being presented in their highly virtuosic solo versions—perhaps offering one more possibility for performing them to modern audiences.
References
Maniates, M. R. (1979). Mannerism in Italian music and culture, 1530–1630. Manchester University Press.
Stras, L. (2018). Women and music in sixteenth-century Ferrara. Cambridge University Press.
Ashworth, J., & O’Dette, P. (2007). Proto-continuo. In J. T. Kite-Powell (Ed.), A performer’s guide to Renaissance music (2nd ed., pp. 225–237). Indiana University Press.
Luzzaschi, L. (1965). Madrigali per cantare e sonare, a uno, due e tre soprani (1601) (A. Cavicchi, Ed.). L’Organo.
Luzzaschi, L. (1980). Madrigali per cantare e sonare a uno, doi, e tre soprani: Roma 1601 (Vol. 35, Archivum musicum. Collana di testi rari). SPES.
Early Music Sources. (2019, May 9). Luzzasco Luzzaschi: Madrigali per cantare et sonare (1601) [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HpFrBUQUaNM
