*Andrew H. Weaver ( is Professor of Musicology and Assistant Dean of Undergraduate Studies at the Benjamin T. Rome School of Music of The Catholic University of America in Washington, DC. He is the author of Sacred Music as Public Image for Holy Roman Emperor Ferdinand III: Representing the Counter-Reformation Monarch at the End of the Thirty Years’ War (Ashgate, 2012) and editor of the forthcoming Companion to Music at the Habsburg Courts in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries (Brill). He has also published editions of sacred music by Ferdinand III, Giovanni Felice Sances, and other composers from the Habsburg court.

[1] Donald Francis Tovey, Essays in Musical Analysis, vol. 1, Symphonies (London: Oxford University Press, 1935), 30.

[2] Lawrence Earp cites an article from as early as 1807 that describes the expressive power of this moment; see his “Tovey’s ‘Cloud’ in the First Movement of the Eroica: An Analysis Based on Sketches for the Development and Coda,” Beethoven Forum 2 (1993): 55.

[3] Margaret Bent, “The Grammar of Early Music: Preconditions for Analysis,” in Tonal Structures in Early Music, ed. Cristle Collins Judd (New York: Garland, 1998), 15–59.

[4] Eva Linfield, “Modulatory Techniques in Seventeenth-Century Music: Schütz, a Case in Point,” Music Analysis 12, no. 2 (July 1993): 210–12. Linfield here quotes Harold S. Powers, “The Modality of ‘Vestiva i colli,’” in Studies in Renaissance and Baroque Music in Honor of Arthur Mendel, ed. Robert L. Marshall (Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1974), 31.

[5] One particularly successful attempt is Beverly Stein, “Carissimi’s Tonal System and the Function of Transposition in the Expansion of Tonality,” Journal of Musicology 19, no. 2 (Spring 2002): 264–305. Other notable recent attempts include Susan McClary, Modal Subjectivities: Self-Fashioning in the Italian Madrigal (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2004) and McClary, Desire and Pleasure in Seventeenth-Century Music (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2012). My own attempts include “Piety, Politics, and Patronage: Motets at the Habsburg Court in Vienna during the Reign of Ferdinand III (1637–1657)” (Ph.D. diss., Yale University, 2002), 169–202.

[6] A small sampling includes: Robert Frederick Bates, “From Mode to Key: A Study of Seventeenth-Century French Liturgical Organ Music and Music Theory” (Ph.D. diss., Stanford University, 1986); Bella Brover-Lubovsky, “Between Modality and Tonality: Vivaldi’s Harmony,” Informazioni e studi vivaldiani 21 (2000): 111–33; Joel Lester, Between Modes and Keys: German Theory 1592–1802 (Stuyvesant, N.Y.: Pendragon, 1989); Susan McClary, “The Transition from Modal to Tonal Organization in the Works of Monteverdi” (Ph.D. diss., Harvard University, 1976); Beverly Stein, “Between Key and Mode: Tonal Practice in the Music of Giacomo Carissimi” (Ph.D. diss., Brandeis University, 1994).

[7] As Margaret Bent has put it, “To seek ‘relevant’ echoes of our own training and listening habits in music composed on quite other premises is to engage in a form of identity politics that subscribes to a naive evolutionary view whose climax is mature tonality; our cultural and technical values may simply not be there to find, and in looking for early corroboration of that process we may miss what is intrinsic” (“The Grammar of Early Music,” 23).

[8] Eric Chafe, Monteverdi’s Tonal Language (New York: Schirmer, 1992).

[9] Chafe, Monteverdi’s Tonal Language, 1.

[10] Chafe, Monteverdi’s Tonal Language, 19–20.

[11] His concern with tracking the change from modality to tonality comes through more strongly in the following chapter, which he opens by declaring that “the process of change from the older ‘modal-hexachordal’ framework to the modern major/minor was a direct and basically logical one” (Chafe, Monteverdi’s Tonal Language, 22). The centerpiece of his argument is transposition, which, he asserts, “is a mainstay in the increasing sense of major/minor tonality. Its widespread use set tonality on a course that led to the opening up of a wide range of key signatures and eventually the emergence of the eighteenth-century circle of keys, the first completely closed transpositional system in Western music” (31). By viewing transposition as the harbinger of tonality, Chafe leaves little room for exploring what the technique may have meant for seventeenth-century composers who had no concept of tonality.

[12] Harold S. Powers, “Tonal Types and Modal Categories in Renaissance Polyphony,” Journal of the American Musicological Society 34, no. 3 (Fall 1981): 434 and 439.

[13] Harold S. Powers, “Is Mode Real? Pietro Aron, the Octenary System, and Polyphony,” Basler Jahrbuch für historische Musikpraxis 16 (1992): 9–52, quotation from p. 12. A riposte to Powers is Kyle Adams, “Mode Is Real: A Re-examination of Polyphonic Modality,” Theoria 19 (2012): 33–64.

[14] Frans Wiering, “Internal and External Views of the Modes,” in Tonal Structures in Early Music, ed. Cristle Collins Judd (New York: Garland, 1998), 87–107. See also his The Language of the Modes: Studies in the History of Polyphonic Music (New York: Routledge, 2001), throughout which he argues that there was never a consensus on modal theory during the sixteenth century.

[15] Valuable studies of the church keys include Gregory Barnett, “Modal Theory, Church Keys, and the Sonata at the End of the Seventeenth Century,” Journal of the American Musicological Society 51, no. 2 (Summer 1998): 245–81, and Michael Dodds, “The Baroque Church Tones in Theory and Practice” (Ph.D. diss., The Eastman School of Music, 1999).

[16] Gregory Barnett, “Modal Polemics and the Intangible Modes,” paper presented at the Twentieth Annual Conference of the Society for Seventeenth-Century of Music, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, April 22, 2012; Barnett, “Musical Polemics and the Modal Ideal, 1600–1788,” paper presented at the Fifteenth Biennial International Conference on Baroque Music, University of Southampton, July 13, 2012; and Barnett, “Musical Polemics and the Modal Ideal, 1600–1788,” paper presented at the Seventy-Eighth Annual Meeting of the American Musicological Society, New Orleans, November 3, 2012. I am very grateful to Prof. Barnett for providing me with copies of his papers. Wiering makes a similar argument for sixteenth-century modes, stating that the “internal view” of the modes “was an intellectual abstraction, perhaps even a Platonic ideal, that was never possible to realize fully in a composition, though it was repeatedly used as a measuring rod to judge existing compositions” (“Internal and External Views,” 104).

[17] Barnett, “Modal Polemics and the Intangible Modes,” 8.

[18] For the purposes of this study, “motet” is defined as a Latin-texted work upon a sacred subject. Although I have included some liturgical texts, such as hymns, antiphons, and sequences, excluded are works with a clearly prescribed liturgical function, such as mass movements, canticles, and vespers psalms, as well as works with formulaic texts that spawned their own compositional traditions, such as litanies. I have also limited the study to works in the stile moderno, that is, featuring an independent basso continuo part; seventeenth-century works in the stile antico would by necessity conform to a different harmonic grammar. Only works that can be reasonably dated to Ferdinand III’s reign have been considered; thus, the extensive body of motets held in the collection of Prince-Bishop Karl Lichtenstein-Castelcorno, now housed in the Collegiate Church of St. Maurice in Kromĕříž, Czech Republic (CZ-KRa), has been excluded, since the composers present in the collection were also active during the reign of Ferdinand’s successor Leopold I, and the manuscripts were copied only in the last quarter of the seventeenth century. One work held in Kromĕříž, Venite gentes, has been included, because one of the two sources for it in the collection attributes it to Giovanni Valentini (the other source carries no attribution). The same work is attributed to Bertali in another source (F-Ssp 17 MNS 7), which changes the text from a Marian to a Christological one. A work with the same title and instrumentation is also listed under Bertali’s name in an inventory of Leopold I’s music library, the so-called “Distinta specificatione” (A-Wn Cod. Suppl. mus. 2451).

[19] This list represents the entire surviving repertoire of motets written by court composers during Ferdinand III’s reign, though manuscript inventories of the imperial music library make it clear that many works have been lost.

[20] Powers makes this distinction between “finality” and “tonicity” in “Is Mode Real,” 24n32. The sense of tonicity allows us to recognize a pitch as the final even when we hear just an excerpt of a work, as well as in the rare cases when a work ends on a pitch other than the final, as in Ferdinand III’s Veni creator Spiritus, discussed in par. 7.4. I use the term “final” rather than “tonic” to emphasize the fact that the music is not governed by our modern system of tonality. Despite the fact that for many people “final” connotes mode, I find it preferable to use a familiar term than to introduce a new one or to use the wordier formulation “tonal center.”

[21] Bent, “The Grammar of Early Music,” 42.

[22] YouYoung Kang, “Monteverdi’s Early Seventeenth-Century ‘Harmonic Progressions,’” Music Analysis 30, no. 2–3 (July–October 2011): 186–217. An earlier work focusing on the function of the actual bass (from a Schenkerian perspective) is Geoffrey Chew, “The Perfections of Modern Music: Consecutive Fifths and Tonal Coherence in Monteverdi,” Music Analysis 8, no. 3 (October 1989): 247–73.

[23] Chafe, Monteverdi’s Tonal Language, esp. 21–37. Chafe looked to such works as Carl Dahlhaus, “Die Termini Dur und Moll,” Archiv für Musikwissenschaft 12, no. 4 (1955): 280–96, and Dahlhaus, Studies on the Origin of Harmonic Tonality, trans. Robert Gjerdingen (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1990; original German edition from 1968).

[24] In addition to Chafe, an important model for my conceptualization of the modal-hexachordal system is Susan Shimp, “The Art of Persuasion: Domenico Mazzocchi and the Counter-Reformation” (Ph.D. diss., Yale University, 2000), esp. 40–77. There are nevertheless important differences between our analyses. Most notably, Shimp conceptualizes the harmonies of any given passage as falling within only one particular hexachord rather than an entire three-hexachord system, and because she does not clearly define her criteria for selecting the functional harmonies of any given passage, it is frequently unclear why she assigns passages to particular hexachords.

[25] Chafe, Monteverdi’s Tonal Language, 21–37. Harold Powers also uses only cantus durus and cantus mollis in “Tonal Types”; see especially p. 438.

[26] Although I borrow the Latin terms from seventeenth-century treatises, I must stress that my concept of the systems was never articulated by theorists of the time; I use the terms primarily because of the already widespread use of cantus durus and cantus mollis in modern scholarship, and also because the ideas of “hard” and “soft” were often carried over into text expression in the music.

[27] In par. 10.5 I discuss one work that moves briefly to cantus duplex durus.

[28] To modern ears, a tenor cadence with a rising half step in the bass often sounds like a V6–I cadence.

[29] Some plagal cadences sound like what we consider half cadences (I–V), but the concept of the half cadence is too reliant on the conventions of functional tonality to be applicable to this repertoire.

[30] The evaded cadences occur in Giovanni Valentini’s Cantate gentes (m. 141) and Mensa sacra (m. 5) and Giovanni Felice Sances’s Audi Domine (m. 72), Deus in adjutorium (m. 69), Domine ne in furore tuo (m. 41), O beata Maria (m. 60), O crux benedicta (1638a, m. 66), O Domine Jesu (m. 38), Plagae tuae Domine (m. 188), and Quid mihi est in caelo (mm. 71, 108, and 110).

[31] Gioseffo Zarlino, The Art of Counterpoint, trans. Guy A. Marco and Claude V. Palisca (New Haven, Ct.: Yale University Press, 1968; reprint, New York: Da Capo, 1983), 151–52. The evaded cadence in Audi Domine does contribute secondarily to text expression (discussed in par. 8.8). Although this cadence serves the traditional function of an evaded cadence, it also helps redefine the harmonic space after an expressive change in system; however, there is nothing otherwise non-normative about the cadence itself.

[32] This convention was widespread enough that the exceptional cadences that end with a minor chord are frequently explicitly indicated as such with figured bass symbols.

[33] Bent, “The Grammar of Early Music,” esp. 27–29.

[34] G is used as the final in a total of sixty-one works, followed by D and C with twenty-nine and twenty-four motets respectively. The remaining finals used in the repertoire are F (sixteen works), A (ten works), B-flat (two works), and E (one work). These numbers add up to more than 133 due to works that feature more than one final (discussed below).

[35] The one exception is Ferdinand III’s Popule meus, which is discussed in par. 5.4.

[36] Though all the pieces discussed in this article are available in modern edition, my examples are not based on the editions and instead attempt to present the original source as faithfully as possible, but with regularized barlines, stem direction, and beaming; with modern clefs (for ease of score reading); and with accidentals modernized to replace sharps or flats used as accidentals of negation with natural signs (accidentals in figured bass symbols, however, are reproduced exactly as they appear in the source). In addition, the texts reflect the modernized and corrected versions found in the editions. I have added editorial figures and accidentals in square brackets and cautionary accidentals in parentheses only when I felt it was necessary, especially to clarify my interpretation of the harmonies. Modern editions for the works are identified in the Appendix.

[37] Extended G sonorities in mm. 15–16 and 20–21 (the only times in the entire section when the same chord sounds for longer than one measure) further help anchor G as the final during the long third phrase. A commercial recording of Magnificemus in cantico is available on Giovanni Felice Sances, Dulcis Amor Iesu, Scherzi Musicali, directed by Nicolas Achten, Ricercar RIC 292, 2010, compact disc.

[38] The fact that both Example 4 and Example 5 end on a pitch other than the final does not contradict this statement. In both works, the largest number of cadences is on G, which also appears more frequently than any other pitch as the root of a harmony. In both works, G also serves as the final cadence point of all major sections.

[39] In mm. 11–12 the unexpected movement from an A-major to an F-major chord (coupled with a C-sharp–C-natural cross relation) defines the outer flat limit of the natural harmonic hexachord, and in mm. 16–17 the passing E-minor chord (flanked by G-major chords) introduces the outer sharp limit.

[40] The B and E chords in these measures are ambiguous, as there is no fifth present in the melodic voices. Even if the continuo player does not realize them as full triads, the resulting chord progression still bears no resemblance to functional tonality.

[41] The first phrase consists primarily of G-major and D-major chords, so when transposed up one step the predominant sonorities are A major and E major; taken as a whole, then, the two phrases in mm. 1–12 emphasize the central four pitches of the hard harmonic hexachord.

[42] Commercial recordings of Domine ne memineris are available on Giovanni Felice Sances, Dulcis Amor Iesu, Scherzi Musicali, directed by Nicolas Achten, Ricercar RIC 292, 2010, compact disc, and Sances, Sacred and Secular Songs for Soprano, Harp and Guitar, Musica Fabula, directed by Jan Walters, Gaudeamus/Universal Classics 00743625019322, 2015, compact disc.

[43] Significantly, the dissonant B-flat introduces the soft melodic hexachord which, coming so shortly after the B-natural in m. 2, helps establish that the work is in cantus naturalis.

[44] A commercial recording of Jesu corona virginum is available on Franz Vitzthum with Les Escapades, Ich will in Friede fahren: Geistliche Musik für Countertenor und Gambenconsort, Christophorus CHR77305, 2009, compact disc.

[45] The limited harmonic vocabulary is due to the work’s recurring instrumental ritornello and quasi-strophic setting of the text, in which the three stanzas do not depart drastically from the ritornello in both melody and harmony. Commercial recordings of Iste confessor are available on Giovanni Felice Sances, Dulcis Amor Iesu, Scherzi Musicali, directed by Nicolas Achten, Ricercar RIC 292, 2010, compact disc, and Sances, Missa Solicita, Sacred Motets, Musica Fabula, directed by Jan Walters, Gaudeamus/Universal Classics 00743625018028, 2015, compact disc.

[46] The vocal stanzas add a cadence on C to the cadences in the ritornello.

[47] We have no way of knowing, though, whether the signature truly represents Sances’s conscious decision to compose the work in cantus mollis or if is just a notational convention, perhaps added at a late stage in the compositional process (or even by a copyist or typesetter).

[48] These works are Verdina’s Laudate Dominum in sanctis ejus, Valentini’s Hodie Christus natus est and his two settings of In te Domine speravi, and Sances’s Ave maris stella, Ave Regina caelorum (1638a), Ave Regina caelorum prima, Conditor caeli, Laetamini omnes, O crux benedicta (1638a), Regina caeli (1643), Regina caeli quinta, and Venite ad me omnes.

[49] Powers, “The Modality of ‘Vestiva i colli,’” 31.

[50] Because of the normative nature of the Phrygian cadence, all instances of Phrygian cadences are not itemized in the “expressive harmonies” column of the Appendix. Phrygian cadences are only included among the listed measures if they accompany the other types of expressive harmonies discussed below.

[51] For information about the event and more information on the motet, see Andrew H. Weaver, Sacred Music as Public Image for Holy Roman Emperor Ferdinand III: Representing the Counter-Reformation Monarch at the End of the Thirty Years’ War (Farnham: Ashgate, 2012), 236–48.

[52] A commercial recording of O Jesu mi dulcissime is available on Giovanni Felice Sances, Dulcis Amor Iesu, Scherzi Musicali, directed by Nicolas Achten, Ricercar RIC 292, 2010, compact disc.

[53] Shimp, “The Art of Persuasion,” 54.

[54] The other works that feature expressive off-hexachord Phrygian cadences are Bertali’s Lamento della regina d’Inghilterra (mm. 72–73); Ferdinand III’s Crudelis Herodes (mm. 154–55, 159–60), Deus misereatur nostri (mm. 34–36), and Miserere (mm. 45–46); and Sances’s Dulcis amor Jesu (m. 54), Excita furorem (mm. 29–30), Gaude Virgo (mm. 48–49), Miserere servorum tuorum (mm. 21–22), O bone Jesu (1638b, mm. 100–102), O crux benedicta (1642, mm. 36–37), O Domine guttae tui sanguinis (m. 115), O Jesu mi dulcissime (mm. 60 and 95), Stabat Mater (1640, mm. 39–40, 63), Stabat Mater (1643, mm. 7, 24, 42, 52–53, 91, 125), and Veni sancte Spiritus (mm. 23–24, 102–3). Several of these examples are discussed below.

[55] Weaver, Sacred Music as Public Image, 185–87.

[56] A commercial recording of Plagae tuae, Domine is available on Giovanni Felice Sances, Missa Solicita, Sacred Motets, Musica Fabula, directed by Jan Walters, Gaudeamus/Universal Classics 00743625018028, 2015, compact disc.

[57] I call it a “quasi” cadence because the bass motion and 7–6 suspension are typical for a tenor cadence, but it happens in the middle of a syntactic unit, thereby not fulfilling my definition of a true cadence.

[58] A commercial recording of Dulcis Amor Jesu is available on Giovanni Felice Sances, Dulcis Amor Iesu, Scherzi Musicali, directed by Nicolas Achten, Ricercar RIC 292, 2010, compact disc.

[59] That D will serve as an important cadence point in the work is indicated by the first measure, which begins with that pitch in the bass, the only instance in the Habsburg motet repertoire in which a work does not begin on the final.

[60] Commerical recordings of Ardet cor meum are available on Maria Cristina Kiehr with Concerto Soave, Extases baroques: Motetti e cantade a voce sola, l’empreinte digitale ED 13119, 1999, compact disc, and Giovanni Felice Sances, Sacred and Secular Songs for Soprano, Harp and Guitar, Musica Fabula, directed by Jan Walters, Gaudeamus/Universal Classics 00743625019322, 2015, compact disc.

[61] Steven Saunders, “Der Kaiser als Künstler: Ferdinand III and the Politicization of Sacred Music at the Habsburg Court,” in Infinite Boundaries: Order, Disorder, and Reorder in Early Modern German Culture, ed. Max Reinhart, Sixteenth-Century Essays and Studies 40 (Kirksville, Mo.: Thomas Jefferson University Press, 1998), 201–8; Andrew H. Weaver, “Music in the Service of Counter-Reformation Politics: The Immaculate Conception at the Habsburg Court of Ferdinand III (1637–1657),” Music & Letters 87, no. 3 (August 2006): 375–77, and Weaver, “Piety, Politics, and Patronage,” 369–83.

[62] A commercial recording of O Maria Dei genitrix is available on Giovanni Felice Sances, Missa Solicita, Sacred Motets, Musica Fabula, directed by Jan Walters, Gaudeamus/Universal Classics 00743625018028, 2015, compact disc.

[63] A commercial recording of O crux benedicta is available on Dolce risonanza, directed by Florian Wieninger, with the Cistercian Monks of Stift Heiligenkreuz, Vesperae: Baroque Vespers at Stift Heiligenkreuz, Oehms Classics OC826, 2011, compact disc.

[64] For a detailed discussion and an investigation of one of the works Giulio Cesare Monteverdi cites as a precedent (Rore’s Quando signor lasciaste), see Harold S. Powers, “Monteverdi’s Model for a Multimodal Madrigal,” in In cantu et in sermone: For Nino Pirrotta on His 80th Birthday, ed. Fabrizio della Seta and Franco Piperno, Italian Medieval and Renaissance Studies 2 (Florence: Leo S. Olschki, 1989), 185–219.

[65] There is a vast bibliography on tonal pairing and the related concept of directional tonality in nineteenth-century music. For discussions of early examples, see Harald Krebs, “Alternatives to Monotonality in Early Nineteenth-Century Music,” Journal of Music Theory 25, no. 1 (Spring 1981): 1–16; William Kinderman, “Directional Tonality in Chopin,” in Chopin Studies, ed. Jim Samson (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988), 59–76; Carl Schachter, “Chopin’s Fantasy, Op. 49: The Two-Key Scheme,” in Chopin Studies, 221–53; Thomas A. Denny, “Directional Tonality in Schubert’s Lieder,” in Franz Schubert: Der Fortschrittliche? Analysen – Perspektiven – Fakten, ed. Erich Wolfgang Partsch, Veroffentlichungen des Internationalen Franz Schubert Instituts 4 (Tutzing: Schneider, 1989), 37–53; and Part 1, entitled “The Origins and General Principles of Tonal Pairing and Directional Tonality,” of The Second Practice of Nineteenth-Century Tonality, ed. William Kinderman and Harald Krebs (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1996), which includes the following essays: Harald Krebs, “Some Early Examples of Tonal Pairing: Schubert’s ‘Meeres Stille’ and ‘Der Wanderer’” (pp. 17–33); Jim Samson, “Chopin’s Alternatives to Monotonality: A Historical Perspective” (pp. 34–44); and Kevin Korsyn, “Directional Tonality and Intertextuality: Brahms’s Quintet Op. 88 and Chopin’s Ballade Op. 38” (pp. 45–83).

[66] On this point, see, for instance, Chafe, Monteverdi’s Tonal Language, 38. Athanasius Kircher’s chart of the modes in the Musurgia universalis indicates that the final of the Phrygian mode is A but that of Hypophrygian is E (see Chafe, Monteverdi’s Tonal Language, 41–44).

[67] A commercial recording of Jesu redemptor omnium is available on Joseph I, Ferdinand III, and Leopold I, Sacred Works, Wiener Akademie, directed by Martin Haselböck, CPO 999 681-2, 2002, compact disc.

[68] As unusual as this pairing seems, I have identified the same combination of finals in a work not connected to the imperial court: Domenico Mazzocchi’s Vide, Domine, afflictionem nostram (published in 1664 but most likely composed in the 1630s or ’40s), which begins centered on G with a flat in the signature but ends on A with no signature. A modern edition of the work is in Domenico Mazzocchi, Sacrae concertationes, ed. Wolfgang Witzenmann, Concentus musicus 3 (Cologne: Arno Volk-Hans Gerig, 1975), 82–92.

[69] For a stylistic analysis of the work, see Weaver, Sacred Music as Public Image, 112–14.

[70] A commercial recording of Humanae salutis sator is available on Joseph I, Ferdinand III, and Leopold I, Sacred Works, Wiener Akademie, directed by Martin Haselböck, CPO 999 681-2, 2002, compact disc.

[71] Athanasius Kircher, Musurgia universalis, sive Ars magna consoni et dissoni (Rome: Corbelletti, 1650; reprint, Hildesheim: Georg Olms, 1970), I:603–5, 672–75, and II:72–73.

[72] See especially Linfield, “Modulatory Techniques,” 201–5; Stein, “Between Key and Mode,” 193–215; and Shimp, “The Art of Persuasion,” 30–77.

[73] For example, the text of the third stanza is: “Solve vincla reis, | Profer lumen caecis: | Mala nostra pelle, | Bona cuncta posce” (Loosen the chains of the sinners, offer light to the blind, drive out our evils, ask for all good things).

[74] Saunders first drew attention to the proximity of the dates of composition and intended first performance of Ferdinand’s works in “Der Kaiser als Künstler,” 201–3. See also Andrew H. Weaver, ed., Motets by Emperor Ferdinand III and Other Musicians from the Habsburg Court, 1637–1657, Collegium Musicum: Yale University, second series 18 (Middleton, Wis.: A-R Editions, 2012), xi–xiii.

[75] For detailed analyses of Ardet cor meum, in which a large-scale shift from cantus naturalis to cantus mollis mirrors the durusmollis contrast in the first two sections (discussed in par. 5.5), see Weaver, Sacred Music as Public Image, 230–36 and Weaver, “Piety, Politics, and Patronage,” 358–65.

[76] A continuo player would likely realize the B-flat in m. 24 as the third of a G-minor chord, but this does not lessen the impact of the B-flat on the harmonic fabric.

[77] For a more extensive analysis of this motet within its political context, see Weaver, Sacred Music as Public Image, 172–82.

[78] We continue to retain a memory of the preceding c final, however, for the twice-stated final phrase (mm. 71–76 and 77–82) begins with a C in the bass.

[79] The shift back to the original system is signaled by an authentic cadence to A that concludes verse three (mm. 130–31).

[80] Unlike Humanae salutis, the phrases do not both cadence on the new final. The transposition up a step, however, allows the second phrase to begin with the d final in the bass, while juxtaposing the two finals in mm. 122–23.

[81] The shift back to cantus naturalis for the sixth verse (mm. 183–201) is also striking; although the section begins on D (the final of the preceding verse), it moves rapidly sharpward by fifths, introducing in just four measures A-minor, E-major, and B-minor triads, thereby moving firmly away from cantus mollis.

[82] Commerical recordings of the Lamento della regina d’Inghilterra are available on Claudio Monteverdi et al., Che soave armonia and more, Tirami Su, directed by Erin Headley, Challenge Classics CC72035, 2001, compact disc, and Anne Sofie von Otter, with Musica Antiqua Köln, directed by Reinhard Goebel, Lamenti, Archiv 457 617-2, 1998, compact disc.

[83] While the harmonies have moved sharpward, the expressive tritone descent in the voice on “e priva” (mm. 54–55) maintains the flat melodic hexachord.

[84] Attesting to the long-lived popularity of this work is the fact that as late as the nineteenth century it was copied into numerous manuscripts; see Weaver, Motets by Emperor Ferdinand III, 235.

[85] The sequence introduces one sonority that does not exist in the hard harmonic hexachord: the F chord on the downbeat of m. 50.