Joan Ambrosio Dalza
and the mysterious early Italian lute composers
Greetings all! For those that are new to the early music crew, welcome. I appreciate your interest in this Substack, and I plan to dust it off and continue this endeavor. I’ve since grown quite busy, and writing has sadly fallen on the back-burner for me as of late. Seeing several new folks join up has provided a much needed kick in the rear.
As I continue to teach lute, I find myself coming back to many pieces I learned in my earlier days when I had begun my lute journey. I’m delightfully rediscovering some of the wonder and interest these pieces held for me then. Originally, I decided to pursue lute based on my interest in the early 16th century Italian repertoire, a set of music I had not played nor looked at for a couple years. The trouble (and blessing?) with the lute is that its repertoire covers so much geographical territory and spans several centuries that I had been drifting later and later into the 17th century. English lute, French, German, Italian, the novelty of the various regional differences and the approaching of the Baroque had caught my eye. So much so that I had acquired a theorbo to play the likes of Kapsberger, Piccinini, and crew.
Years later, with new lute students all practicing on Renaissance lutes, I find myself tapping back into the vein of the pure, unadulterated Renaissance.
Dalza and early Italian lute
Dalza, a notable contributor to the early Italian lute repertoire, managed, somehow, to elude history in all aspects aside from his music. There is little to no surviving evidence to be found on his background, upbringing, or any such biographical detail other than the fact he is described as Milanese in the 1508 publication of his music (Ottaviano Petrucci’s Intabolatura de lauto libro quarto).
Astonishingly, many of these prominent, early contributors to the lute seemed to pop up and disappear almost as quickly as they were published, vanishing back into historical obscurity. Take for example, a counterpart to Dalza, Giovanni Maria da Crema. Just as little is known about this master as his Milanese counterpart. What we do know, (or can infer) based on his name, is that he hailed from the town Crema which was situated within the Republic of Venice at the time.
While canonically only one publication of Dalza’s work survives, there are two surviving compilations of Giovanni Maria da Crema’s. The preface for Dalza’s publication alludes to additional printings, stating that this first publication is comprised of “cose facile e da molte desiderate”—or popular, widely desirable pieces. He aimed to print a book of popular music and lucky for us that provides us a glimpse into what was in vogue for the times. He also promised to follow the first publication with another publication aimed more at the academic, comprised of “more complex and difficult pieces for those trained in the science of music.” Sadly, no other surviving publications by Dalza are know to exist.
Dalza’s source is one of the earliest known printings of lute tablature in existence, and it shows us a great representation as to the music of the time. While many masters included intabulations of popular pieces and composers of the time (such as Josquin de Pres) , Dalza’s work contains almost strictly original music and is one of few sources that include the Tastar de chordes (testing of the strings)—pieces that can be though of as preludes or warm-up pieces that allow the musician the ability to test his tuning through means of a loosely structured harmonic piece. In total, Dalza’s Intabolatura de lauto libro quarto gives us:
42 Dances
9 Ricercares
5 Tastar de cordes
4 intabulations
1 piece called Caldibi castigliano
Since printing of tablature was an emerging industry and Dalza’s printing via Ottaviano Petrucci were very much the bleeding edge of this new technology, we also find that Dalza gives us the first known recordings of genres such as the pavan. Being first to market has its advantages when it comes to setting historical precedents.
Catala ala Spagnola
The piece I’ve been digging into recently is Dalza’s Catala ala Spagnola, an interesting dance riddled with many unusual features. It takes its influence from the Spanish music, that was gaining traction and influence in Italy via the Vihuelistas, or vihuelists such as Luis de Milán.
Some of Dalza’s indications for playing within the notation seem to break the precedence of some general lute “rules,” such as the alternating of thumb and finger to produce the strong and weak beats. It is believed to be of stylistic intent that these conventions are done away with in certain passages. Illustrated above in the excerpt, one can see the very first bar shows either 3 indicated with a dot (used to indicated a right-hand stroke with the finger rather than thumb). So we have, what looks like, at first glance, strong-weak-weak or thumb-index-index. In modern notations this is often interpreted as thumb-middle-index, rather than repeating the index finger.
While many others more well versed in the historical aspects of playing have weighed in on the unique and rather strange fingering notation and inconsistencies within the piece, it seems quite logical that they were intentional to achieve an intended effect within the music. Our modern desire for convention seems to take a backseat to the playing style of Dalza and his intent for the music. He shows no qualm in repeating thumb strokes to emphasize a passage while also indicating consecutive upstrokes in other places. If there is a pattern to recognize, it’s that he interchanges these quite regularly, providing a unique dynamism to the piece that probably sought to emulate the flair of its Spanish influencers.
Like any master, Dalza takes what works and drops what doesn’t. Its in this breaking of convention he is able to give us a piece that has become ubiquitous with the lute in today’s age.
