The cycle Ave virgo gloriosa, consisting, in the complete form attested in the third of the Gaffurius Codices (Librone 3), of eight motets for five voices, belongs to the ‘core’ group of the so-called motetti missales.^[1]

Whereas the long version in Librone 3 has no attribution, the shorter, three-motet version in the earlier Librone 1 bears the attribution to ‘Loyset’ [Compère] both in the index and at f. 143v, over the first motet.^[2] That the attribution to Compère had to be extended to the whole eight-motet version was suggested by Knud Jeppesen,^[3] and later demonstrated by Ludwig Finscher on the basis of the stylistic consistency of the cycle;^[4] all subsequent scholars have accepted the extended attribution.

The title/rubric ‘Galeazescha’, which, as we will see, opens up a thought-provoking connection with the Sforza court, appears only in Librone 3, at f. 125v, over the first motet. ‘Missa’ is probably implied, as happens for regular polyphonic masses in Librone 3 (see f. 99v: O venus bant) as well as in Librone 2 (e.g. at f. 56v: Io ne tengo quanto te); in fact, in the autograph index of Librone 1, Franchinus Gaffurius used the term ‘missa’ for two of the motetti missales cycles listed there.^[5] It is worth noting, however, that the Galeazescha does not appear in Gaffurius’s comprehensive index of the masses contained in Librone 3.^[6]

The short version of the cycle is included among the ‘motetti missales consequentes’ in the index of Librone 1, but the component motets lack the loco rubrics; in Librone 3, instead, the loco rubrics appear as follows:

At the end of the Bassus part in no. 5 (Librone 3, f. 131r) there is a ‘Verte folium’ (‘Turn the page’) rubric pointing to no. 6; moreover, no. 5 ends with breves (with fermatas), whereas all the other motets in the cycle end with longae; Nolan Gasser, therefore, considered the two items as one motet in three partes.^[7] More important than classifying nos. 5 and 6 as one or two motets, however, is to acknowledge that they form a Sanctus–Elevation complex (with no. 5 loco Sanctus, the first part of no. 6 ad Elevationem and its second part, though not labelled as such, post Elevationem) accompanying the most sacred moments of the liturgy with a precious and virtually seamless layer of polyphony.^[8]

The version of motet 4 in Librone 1 is shorter than the one in Librone 3: the section ‘Gaude, virgo […] Pietate solita’ is missing, and the motet ends at m. 39. Besides this, the versions of the three concordant motets diverge as to many superficial traits (distribution of music on the openings; voice designations; text underlay; use of minor color; use of ligatures; insertion of accidentals; ways to indicate the correct mensural interpretation of values in ternary sections) and several textual variants of minor importance (especially regarding rhythmic details and short ornamental notes); in Librone 1 only, there remain at least three uncorrected errors (with as many visible corrections by a different, unidentified hand: see the Critical apparatus). Therefore, even though many of the differences may depend upon scribal habits or choices, there seems to be no particular reason to see the version in Librone 3 as deriving from the one in Librone 1, and even the direct descent from a common source seems unlikely. The present edition adopts Librone 3 as the main source for all the motets; except for an uncorrected error (a superfluous rest added later in no. 3: see the Critical apparatus), the source is substantially reliable.     

The presence of the short version in the earlier manuscript, Librone 1, raises some difficult questions. As said, Gaffurius included it in the column of the index dedicated to the motetti missales, a strong sign of his persuasion that it belonged to this ‘genre’, in spite both of its shortness, compared to the other five cycles listed there, and of the absence of the loco rubrics.^[9] Was the short version designed as such by Compère himself, possibly as a ‘kernel’ that was later developed into a longer cycle? The composite nature of the text (on which more below) makes it difficult to speculate about the ‘completeness’ of the short version.^[10] A tiny musical detail, however, counters the idea that Compère was directly responsible for it: at the end of Ave sponsa verbi summi in Librone 1, the Tenor secundus re-enters after the rests only to sing the final longa at the unison with the Tenor primus,^[11] instead of singing the entire last phrase together with his ‘twin’, as always happens at the conclusion of the previous two motets of the short version, as well as in all the other motets of the longer version in Librone 3 (as can easily be seen in the modern score; in the long version the two tenors keep alternating until they sing at the unison the final phrase, ‘Pietate solita’, at mm. 56–58). Rather than a composer’s choice, it looks like a manipulation by someone not entirely familiar with the distinguishing compositional feature of the cycle (the ‘split tenors’, on which see below), who carelessly truncated the longer version.

Perhaps the scribe who copied the short version in Librone 1 (Scribe A)^[12] simply did not have a complete and reliable source of the cycle available. Gaffurius – who, as the inclusion of some attributions in the index of Librone 1 seems to prove,^[13] was better informed than his scribe – might have known that the cycle was originally longer and that it belonged with good reason to what he called ‘motetti missales consequentes’. Therefore, he listed it as such in the index, and at the earliest convenience, years later, obtained a copy of the full version and had it included in Librone 3.^[14] In the light, however, of what recent research on motet cycles has revealed about the flexibility of such works and their dynamic interaction with liturgy, it cannot be excluded that the short version was purposely designed or trimmed to only partially cover the mass ritual.^[15]

* * *

As said, the title/rubric Galeazescha constitutes the most explicit association between the cycle and the Sforza court, namely that of Galeazzo Maria Sforza, who was duke of Milan from 1466 until he was murdered on 26 December 1476, and whom Compère served as a singer from 1474. The partial homonymy between Galeazzo and his son Gian Galeazzo (who succeeded his father as a child, first under the regency of Duchess Bona, and then under the progressive usurpation of his uncle, Ludovico il Moro), has given rise to alternative proposals,^[16] but the reference to Galeazzo seems unquestionable, both in view of his own agency in matters of music and considering Compère’s chronology. We are, in any case, faced with two main sets of questions, one regarding the genesis of the cycle, the other its inclusion in the Libroni – that is, in sources belonging to Milan’s Cathedral, rather than to the ducal chapel in which Compère was a singer, and dating from decades after Galeazzo died and Compère left Milan.

The most straightforward hypothesis regarding the genesis of the cycle is that Compère composed it during his tenure at the ducal chapel while Galeazzo was alive, that is, between July 1474 and December 1476. Alternatively, he might have written it immediately after Galeazzo’s murder, but before leaving Milan, that is, between late December 1476 and February 1477 (or shortly thereafter).^[17] The second option, according to which the Galeazescha was conceived right from the origin as a posthumous tribute to the duke and to accompany rituals for the repose of his soul, was advanced by David Crawford.^[18] On the one hand, Crawford’s reading of the texts and overinterpretation of devotional commonplaces seems ‘fanciful’, as Gasser put it.^[19] On the other, if the idea of a posthumous homage and musical intercession fits all too well in the picture of Galeazzo’s troubled succession, there is very little in the Marian texts compilation to suggest either political allusions or suffrage and mourning. There was surely no dearth of liturgical and devotional texts explicitly ‘pro defunctis’ with which to put together a cycle of commemorative Staatsmotetten.^[20]

Paul Merkley surmised that the term Galeazescha ‘would mean “Galeazzo-like”, and this would suggest a later date of composition or compilation […] making it a product of Ludovico Sforza’s rule’.^[21] As I have already argued elsewhere,^[22] in order to expose the linguistic weakness of this argument it suffices to cite a document of 1472, according to which the biggest bombard of the Sforza artillery was named ‘Galiazescha victurioxa’ (‘the victorious Galeazzesca’).^[23] As a matter of fact, the name itself cannot tell us anything precise about either the chronology or the function of the cycle – not to mention that we do not know whether the title/rubric was assigned to the cycle from its origin in the 1470s, or if it was a retrospective label attached to it at a later time.

Putting off, for a moment, the question whether and how the compilation of the text and the compositional design of the cycle reflect a specific commission by Galeazzo, or more loosely his taste, let us consider the problem of the cycle’s inclusion in the Duomo musical manuscripts. In general terms, the acquisition of Compère’s work is part of a larger transfer of sacred compositions from the environment of the ducal chapel to the Duomo. Various factors may have entered into play, including Gaffurius’s agency, but the close relationship between the Sforzas and the cathedral, and the frequent visits by the dukes and members of the household for dynastically relevant rituals and anniversaries, or on important feasts of the liturgical year, provide the most logical explanation.^[24] But what was the point of having the cycle in Librone 1, finished in June 1490^[25] – almost fourteen years after Galeazzo’s death and during Ludovico il Moro’s progressive ascent to power – let alone in Librone 3, surely compiled after 1500, and possibly as late as 1507, that is, in the first period of French occupation after the fall of the Sforzas?

Before trying to answer, we should at least spell out some assumptions that have perhaps been too easily taken for granted in previous scholarship. The first assumption is that inclusion in the Gaffurius Codices implied destination for performance: this is not necessarily self-evident, but recent research on the Libroni does encourage us to maintain the notion.^[26] The second assumption is that the cycle’s special association with Duke Galeazzo was (and remained) recognizable, at least for a more or less selected circle of cognoscenti: I should once more remind the reader that the title/rubric in Librone 3 is the only hint of this association, which would be utterly impossible to guess based on Librone 1 alone, or on the cycle text. But after all, even allowing for the protean nature of motet cycles and their wider circulation, it is hard to contradict the idea that the motetti missales were pretty much Sforza-related:^[27] can it be mere chance that the only motetti missales cycle in Librone 1 surely composed after Galeazzo’s death and by a non-member of the Sforza chapel, Gaffurius’s Salve mater salvatoris, is preceded in the manuscript by (and likely connected with) a motet praising Ludovico il Moro (Salve decus genitoris)?^[28] After accepting the second assumption too, a final, perhaps smaller, ‘leap of faith’ is required: namely, to admit that a Marian cycle without any more specific ‘pro defunctis’ or dynastic connotation could be repurposed in order to commemorate Duke Galeazzo and pray for his soul.

Now, having gone through the necessary assumptions, let us try to answer our original question about the possible meaning of the Galeazescha in the different political scenarios of the 1490s and 1500s in Milan. In the late 1480s and the first half of the 1490s, Gian Galeazzo, son of Galeazzo, was the legitimate duke: the desire to commemorate his deceased father, at the same time honouring the (almost) namesake heir, is easily understandable. As the art historian Federico Maria Giani demonstrated, the Veneranda Fabbrica (the vestry board of the cathedral) and the duke partnered in cultivating the memory of Galeazzo at the Duomo during the early 1490s. On 8 January 1492, for instance, the deputies of the Fabbrica decided to bring to completion the altar of St Joseph, ‘started already since a long time for the devotion of the good and indelible memory of the most illustrious and excellent Lord Galeazzo Maria Sforza Visconti, father of the most illustrious and excellent Lord Gian Galeazzo’.^[29] According to Giani, the officials of the Fabbrica used works in memory of Galeazzo (including the altar and its stained-glass window) as ‘a currency of exchange’ in their dealings with the éminence grise Ludovico.^[30] Even after the death of Gian Galeazzo (21 October 1494) and Ludovico’s investiture as duke (26 May 1495), however, the ostentation of dynastic continuity was a means of legitimation for the former de facto usurper now become duke. Work on the altar of St Joseph, for instance, continued over the 1490s.^[31] After Ludovico’s fall in 1499–1500, the memory of Galeazzo paradoxically retained the same meaning in terms of legitimation, but this time in a pro-French and anti-Ludovico perspective: this might help explain the inclusion of the cycle within the ‘Francophile’ repertory of Librone 3.^[32]

An additional circumstance needs to be mentioned: Compère was part of the King of France Charles VIII’s retinue during his Italian expedition of 1494–95. The composer might easily have met with Ludovico and his wife Beatrice in Asti, where they went to pay homage to the king in September 1494, or in Pavia, when Charles VIII visited the moribund Gian Galeazzo on 14 October. Ferrante d’Este, who also participated in the French expedition, famously wrote to his father Ercole, duke of Ferrara, about a meeting with Compère in Casale Monferrato, reporting that the composer ‘was extremely sorry not to be able to furnish Your Lordship with any good compositions because the only works he has with him are old ones’.^[33] As Joshua Rifkin further suggested, ‘the appearance of five motets and a Magnificat setting by Compère, all copied about 1495–7, in the Vatican choirbook I-Rvat C.S. 15 may represent a souvenir’ of the composer’s probable stay in Rome in January 1495, during the French occupation of the city.^[34] Was the full version of the Galeazescha among the ‘old works’ in Compère’s trunk? Was it perhaps gifted to Gian Galeazzo or Ludovico? Might it have subsequently reached Gaffurius via the Sforza environment, to be included, years later, in the next big manuscript he prepared for the Duomo, under drastically changed political circumstances?

* * *

A new set of questions awaits us regarding what makes this specific cycle ‘Galeazzesque’. We may wonder whether its association with Galeazzo depends upon external circumstances, such as a special occasion for which it was composed and/or performed, or if it might be inherent in the design of the cycle, even though there are no explicit signs comparable to those in Gaffurius’s Salve decus genitoris for Ludovico il Moro or in other dedicatory works of the time. At the present state of research, the first hypothesis is at a dead end: in the absence of even indirect documentary evidence, any attempt to match the generically Marian text of the cycle to a precise occasion seems fruitless. In order to explore the second hypothesis, we should identify the distinguishing features of the cycle, the most striking of which is undoubtedly the ‘split tenor’.^[35] Compère makes the two tenors alternate antiphonally without any overlap, except for the following passages, in which they sing together at the unison, as if to underline structurally and rhetorically relevant moments:

• the final phrase of each motet;
• the conclusion of the middle section in the loco Credo motet, no. 3 (mm. 65–75), underscored by fermatas at mm. 69–71;
• the emphatic repetitions of the ascending formula d-f-g-a in the loco Sanctus motet, no. 5, always with at least one fermata: sung on ‘o Maria’ at the opening and at mm. 48–50, on different words at mm. 59–61 and at the conclusion;
• the incipit and conclusion of the Elevation section in no. 6 (mm. 1–8 and 29).

Clearly, such a ‘strangely “unreal” five-part notation’, as Finscher put it,^[36] conspicuously deviates from the ordinary writing in contemporary five-voice polyphony. The only real parallel is to be found, significantly, in two motets from another motetti missales cycle in Librone 1 attributable, with some caution, to the same Compère (Ave domine Iesu Christe),^[37] whereas other five-voice works with alternating tenors are only superficially similar and originate from different compositional models.^[38] Compère’s strategy is in several ways enigmatic, but a crucial aspect, not adequately elucidated by previous scholars, illuminates, if not its raison d’être, at least its working: namely, the inherent, indeed genetic association between this peculiar rendering of the tenors and their derivation from cantus prius facti.^[39] Only some of the pre-existing materials have been identified so far (see below), but even a superficial study of the tenor parts reveals that they are constantly tuneful, rhythmically straightforward, neither treated as real cantus firmi nor heavily ornamented or paraphrased, and organized in short and often symmetrical-periodical phrases (see the synopsis of the tenor parts in the Appendix). The identified borrowings indicate that Compère deliberately maintained the melodic content and geometry of the pre-existing tunes; since most of the cycle texts derive from sequences and comparable metrical songs/poems, it is inevitable to surmise that even the corresponding unidentified melodies, with their remarkable phraseological structures, originate from the same repertory (or possibly from the bordering realms of cantio and lauda). Furthermore, the rhythmic and metric shape of the tenor phrases, often relying on simple patterns, might reproduce what was already traditional for the corresponding songs, whether in monodic rhythmicized performances or in simple polyphonic renderings.[40] The split tenors, then, are not merely the result of a special performance practice applied ex post facto to an ordinary four-voice motet, but rather the special projection-in-performance of a more far-reaching compositional project. It is by no means a normal tenor part that Compère decided to split in two, but rather one that sews together portions of carefully selected pre-existing melodies, retaining their tuneful character. From this exceptional tenor part springs the overall compositional concept of the cycle: the variable geometry of the tenor phrases, with patterns of repetition, variation, and periodicity, induces the antiphonal rendition, and the symmetries in the polyphonic complex partially reflect, partially contradict those of the tenor itself. As a result, the Galeazescha is an impressive tour de force in which the varietas of the polyphonic treatment and the adoption of unifying strategies counterbalance the quodlibetical tendency to sectionalization triggered by the tenor.

* * *

Similarly to those of Hodie nobis and Ave domine Iesu Christe, the text of the Galeazescha is an assemblage from various sources. Unlike Hodie nobis, clearly focused on a single feast (Christmas), the present cycle, though permeated by Marian devotion, does not have a clear emphasis on any specific liturgical occasion.^[41] The sources are mostly sequences and rhymed prayers, all in verse (though with some interpolations that momentarily blur the metrical structure), and praising or invoking the Blessed Virgin. The only exception to both rules, that is, the only passage in prose and not addressed to Mary, is the prima pars of motet 6, ‘Adoramus te Christe et benedicimus tibi, quia per sanctam crucem tuam redemisti mundum’: needless to say, the reason is its purpose of accompanying the Elevation of the Host.^[42] Whereas some source poems are used only once, others are quoted in two, three, or even four motets:

• Ave virgo gloriosa in nos. 1, 5 (with interpolations), and 7;
• Ave virgo virginum in nos. 2, 4, 6, and 7;
• Ave caelorum regina in nos. 2 and 8;
• Salvatoris mater pia in nos. 1 (with interpolations), 2, and 4;
• Salve mater salvatoris in nos. 5 and 7;
• Verbum bonum et suave in nos. 2, 4, and 5.

This finding alone gives an idea of the complex weaving of verses from different origins that characterizes the compilation. The texts have various metrical forms: the prevailing ones are verses of three paroxytone lines of eight syllables with a concluding proparoxytone line of seven syllables (3×8p+7pp, following Norberg’s classification);^[43] similar verses of three lines (2×8p+7pp); and verses of three proparoxytone lines of seven syllables (3×7pp). There seems to be no inherent rationale in their alternation with other metrical forms.

As to the contents, like many other Marian texts the Galeazescha can be seen as a sort of troped macro-litany, with plentiful epithets, frequently introduced by such salutations as O, Ave, Salve, Gaude. The very beginning of the cycle is emblematic: the Mother of God is saluted as virgo gloriosa, caeli iubar, mundi rosa, caelibatus lilium, gemma pretiosa, virginale gaudium, florens hortus, fons puritatis. Further appellations range from the obvious mater, domina, and regina, to flos, lucerna, medicina, porta, refugium, salus, sponsa, stella, and to the biblical mater veri Salomonis and vellus Gedeonis. The emphatic repetitions of the invocation ‘O Maria’ constitute a unifying feature (see motets 4, 5, 7, and, with special rhetorical weight, the conclusion of motet 8). It is possible to identify recurring motives, all drawing from well-established Marian topoi (e.g. Mary’s intercessory power, her role as New Eve, the paradoxical combination of virginity and maternity, or the praise that the faithful owe to her), but without any clear progression or logic, except that of varietas and accumulation. On the other hand, a certain regularity in size (considering the quantity of text and the number of verses or blocks per motet) is a sign of the purposeful character of the assemblage. 

The cantus prius facti identified with certainty are in motets 1 (from the sequence Veni virgo virginum, sung to the melody of Veni sancte spiritus), 2 (from the sequence Ave virgo virginum, again sung to the melody of Veni sancte spiritus), 6 (from the melody of the sequence Mane prima sabbati),^[44] 7 (from the sequence Salve mater salvatoris and again from Ave virgo virginum), and 8 (from the sequence Virginis Mariae laudes, sung to the melody of Victime paschali laudes).^[45]

Furthermore, Patrick Macey proposed that the tenor parts at mm. 17–32 (‘Gaude virgo salutata…’) of motet 4 are based on the tune of the hymn Ave maris stella:^[46] if that is the case, we should postulate a substantial paraphrase and an alteration of the tune’s geometry that makes it aurally unrecognizable. I rather think that Compère quoted a different sequence melody, possibly sharing the modal ‘mould’ with the hymn, or loosely deriving from it. Macey also suggested, more plausibly, that measures 25–28 in motet 1 (‘Dans fluenta gratiae’, immediately preceding the block sung on Veni virgo virginum / Veni sancte spiritus) are based as well on a phrase from Veni sancte spiritus.^[47] Two other suggestions, in my view, are to be rejected. Dino Faggion, followed by Gasser, proposed that the tenors at the very incipit of the cycle are based on the opening motive of the Kyrie from the Gregorian Missa IX ‘cum jubilo’.^[48] The notes do partially coincide, but it is a very common modal turn of phrase: and why should Compère heavily restructure a Kyrie motive in order to build a tuneful AAB melody and match it with the verse of a sequence? It seems safer to imagine that in this case too he found the melody ready-made in the sequence repertory. Finally, Finscher suggested that measures 53–58 in motet 4 (‘Et regnare fac renatos…’) are based on verse 3 of the sequence Stabat iuxta Christi crucem:^[49] the melodic relationship seems vague enough, and I cannot find evidence that the sequence from which the text passage is taken, Salvatoris mater pia, was ever sung to this tune. Admittedly, however, Compère did not mechanically associate one text to one melody: for instance, he set verses from Ave virgo virginum to at least two different tunes (without mixing them in the same motet, though: the tune of Veni sancte spiritus is used in nos. 2 and 7, that of Mane prima sabbati in no. 6), and conversely employed the same Veni sancte spiritus tune for verses from different sequences (Veni virgo virginum in motet 1 and Ave virgo virginum in motet 2). The inherent interchangeability of sequence melodies undoubtedly poses further complications for the understanding of Compère’s behaviour and the identification of other cantus prius facti.

Even though only a minority of the tenor passages have been traced back to pre-existing materials, Finscher remarked that the Galeazescha ‘seems to be built upon pre-existent melodies from beginning to end’ and he tried to reconstruct some of the possible cantus prius facti.^[50] Macey, in turn, noticed the ‘decidedly tuneful, foursquare and popular cast’ of several passages and suggested that at least four of them may derive from contrafacted ‘secular tunes’: motet 2, mm. 50–58 (‘Ave veri Salomonis…’); motet 3, mm. 76–95 (‘O domina dominarum…’); motet 6, mm. 31–65 (‘Virgo mitis, virgo pia…’); and motet 7, mm. 28–48 (‘Tu veniae vena…’).^[51] If the four examples highlighted by Macey speak for themselves, in other cases it is the geometry of the melodic phrases that hints at pre-existence, rather than at Compère’s invention. See for instance mm. 5–33 in motet 5 (‘In supremo sita poli…’): the text, consisting of two quatrains, derives from the sequence Salve mater salvatoris; the melody in the split tenors does not resemble the standard one for the sequence,^[52] but, significantly, in both verses it follows the same AABC pattern as the standard melody.

Generally speaking, four are the defining ingredients in the Galeazescha compositional project: the pre-existing tenor, its polyphonic projection, the mensural patterns, and the presence of recurring motives and blocks. As said, Compère stitched together a series of pre-existing, modally uniform melodies (in protus): their at times antiphonal or periodic phrase structures, common among sequences, possibly prompted the unusual splitting among two alternating voices, in the way just described.^[53] The Cantus often echoes, amplifies or paraphrases the Tenor segments (see e.g. motet 8): in this and other ways, the pre-existing melodic substance permeates and organizes the polyphonic complex, engendering symmetries and repetitions, whereas in other moments it remains submerged and its symmetry is modified or contradicted (see e.g. motet 5, mm. 51–61 and 62–72, in which the repetition of the Tenor is partially ‘hidden’ by the change of metre, obtained through coloration, and by the different polyphonic construction). As it has often been observed, recurring mensuration patterns contribute to unify the cycle:^[54]

Notably, all the motets, irrespective of their initial mensuration, shift at a certain point to a sesquialtera proportion (except in nos. 1 and 2, the alternation is repeated twice).

As to the recurring motives and blocks, the most remarkable case regards the formula pointed out above discussing the passages sung in unison by the Tenors in motet 5. In fact, the ascending formula d-f-g-a and its descending contrapposto g-f-e-d (both contained, by the way, in the opening phrase of the Tenor in motet 1) occur in the following passages:

• motet 4 (desc. form): mm. 38–39 (‘o Maria’);
• motet 5 (asc. form): incipit in breves, mm. 1–4 (‘o Maria’); mm. 24–25 (variant) (‘o Maria’); mm. 48–50 (‘o Maria); mm. 59–61 (‘pietatis’); mm. 70–72 (‘sanctitatis’);
• motet 7 (desc. form): explicit, mm. 61–62 (‘o Maria’);
• motet 8 (desc. form): mm. 57–58 (variant) (‘o Maria’); mm. 68–69 (‘o Maria’); explicit, mm. 71–73 (‘o Maria’).

Furthermore, the descending form closes the Tenors in all the motets (except no. 5, closed by the ascending form, corresponding to the seamless passage from loco Sanctus to ad Elevationem discussed above).

* * *

Let us return, in conclusion, to the question about what makes this cycle ‘Galeazzesque’. Besides recognizing the quite extraordinary features of Compère’s compositional project, it is ultimately difficult to judge whether they have anything to do with Galeazzo’s own musical or spiritual predilections. In his article of 1996,^[55] Macey discussed a passage from the Historia patria (publ. 1503) by the Milanese courtier and historian Bernardino Corio. According to Corio, a few days before his death Galeazzo ordered his singers to sing at daily Mass a ‘versiculo tolto ne l’officio dedicato a li defuncti [recte from the little office of the Blessed Virgin]: “Maria mater gratiae, mater misericordiae etc”’. Macey noticed that the corresponding stanza from the hymn Memento salutis auctor, or at least ‘Galeazzo’s verset’, recurs in the texts of several motetti missales cycles, including the Galeazescha (here, however, in a modified or ‘troped’ form in motets 7 and 8). Macey connected the emphasis on this verset with Galeazzo’s supposed special devotion to Our Lady of Graces.^[56] Successively, however, Gasser somewhat weakened the case by demonstrating that this devotion was in fact widespread in Lombardy and hardly a prerogative of Galeazzo.^[57] Corio’s colourful anecdote retains its suggestive power, but on a more factual level it is, for the time being, impossible to establish whether, or in which proportion, the cycle’s texts and cantus prius facti are of local origin or of French import. The motetti missales were, as said, certainly Sforza-related and rooted in aspects of Milanese spirituality and liturgy,^[58] some of their texts undoubtedly circulated in Milan,^[59] but the lack of contemporary Milanese sources with notated sequences, inter alia, complicates the identification and tracking of the Galeazescha raw materials.^[60] Pending new discoveries, then, we cannot help but conclude that the exact reason for the cycle’s title/rubric, and the Galeazzesqueness of the Galeazescha, remain a tantalizing enigma.

* * *

As stated above, I have adopted Librone 3 as the main source for the present edition. In addition to the MCE Editorial methods, I have applied the following rules: if an accidental is missing in Librone 3 but present in Librone 1, I have included it in the score; similarly, if a portion of text is missing in Librone 3 but present in Librone 1, I have included it in the score in roman type; in both cases I have added an annotation in the Critical apparatus.

As declared in the MCE Editorial methods, the text underlay adopted in the score ‘should be regarded more as a proposal than as a prescriptive solution’. The treatment of text in Librone 3 is rather discontinuous: even in motets like no. 3, for instance, that have an unusually accurate underlay, there are inconsistencies and blanks, notably in the Altus (see the Critical apparatus). In motet 4, the melismatic Altus has virtually no text underlaid in the first half, and the Bassus seems, from a certain point, strangely out of sync with the other voices. In motet 5 Altus and Bassus have just the incipit and the last part of the text. In such cases, I have proposed text underlay without accounting for the details in the Critical apparatus (added text, however, is marked in italics in the score).

Milan, November 2020

APPENDIX

A synopsis of the tenor parts in the cycle Ave virgo gloriosa (Galeazescha)

[if you do not see the pdf in the frame below, you can download it here]