Laúd (New Grove)

[De: New Gro­ve Dic­tio­nary of Music and Musi­cians. 2002.]

(Ara­bic ‘ūd; Fr. luth; Ger. Lau­te; It. lau­to, leu­to, liu­to; Sp. laúd).

Cor­dó­fono pun­tea­do, hecho de made­ra, de ori­gen en el Medio Orien­te que flo­re­ción en toda Euro­pa des­de la Edad Media has­ta el siglo XVIII. Usos más gené­ri­cos del tér­mino se dis­cu­ten en §1.

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KLAUS WACHSMANN (1), JAMES W. McKIN­NON, ROBERT ANDERSON (2), IAN HARWOOD, DIANA POULTON/DAVID VAN EDWARDS (3–4), LYNDA SAYCE (5), DIANA POULTON/TIM CRAWFORD (6–8)

Lute (ii)

1. El término genérico

En el sis­te­ma de cla­si­fi­ca­ción de Horn­bos­tel-Sachs (Sachs and Horn­bos­tel, A1914) el tér­mino ‘laúd’ cubre a los ‘cor­dó­fo­nos com­pues­tos’ – ins­tru­men­tos de cuer­da en que lo que sos­tie­ne a las cuer­das y el reso­na­dor están ‘orgá­ni­ca­men­te uni­dos’ y no pue­den ser sepa­ra­dos sin des­truir el ins­tru­men­to – en que el plano de las cuer­das corre para­le­lo a la tapa armó­ni­ca. […]

2. Ancient lutes.

Two types of ancient lute are clearly dis­tin­guis­ha­ble: the ear­lier long-nec­ked lute and the short-nec­ked lute. The­re is a wide ran­ge of dif­fe­ren­ce wit­hin each type, but the most com­mon fea­tu­res of the long-nec­ked lute are an unfret­ted, rod-like neck and a small oval or almond-sha­ped body, which befo­re the advent of wood cons­truc­tion was fas­hio­ned from a gourd or tor­toi­se shell. In many early exam­ples whe­re the table is of hide, the neck or spi­ke is atta­ched to it by pier­cing it a num­ber of times in the man­ner of stit­ching. The strings, usually two, are atta­ched at the lower end of the spi­ke in var­ying ways and are bound at the top by liga­tu­res from which hang deco­ra­ti­ve tas­sels. Pegs were not used until com­pa­ra­ti­vely late in the instrument’s his­tory.

The long-nec­ked lute is now thought (by Turn­bull and Pic­ken, for exam­ple) to have ori­gi­na­ted among the West Semi­tes of Syria. Turn­bull (A1972) has argued con­vin­cingly for its ear­liest appea­ran­ce being that on two cylin­der seals (see fig.4a) of the Akka­dian period (c2370–2110 bce); on one the lute is in the hands of a crou­ching male who plays whi­le a bird­man is brought befo­re a sea­ted god. In con­trast to the dra­ped fema­le har­pists, the lute­nists of early Meso­po­ta­mia are men, some­ti­mes shown naked or with ani­mals. None of the­se ins­tru­ments has sur­vi­ved, but the lute’s popu­la­rity is attes­ted by many objects of the Baby­lo­nian period. The Lou­vre pos­ses­ses a Baby­lo­nian boun­dary sto­ne, found at Susa, which shows bear­ded men with bows on their backs pla­ying the lute in the com­pany of such ani­mals as the lion, pant­her, ante­lo­pe, hor­se, sheep, ox, and an ostrich. In the the early 2nd millen­nium bce the lute is also attes­ted for the Hit­ti­te Old King­dom: a sherd from Alis­har Höyük has pre­ser­ved the end of a neck with two strings han­ging from it.

The lute first appea­red in Egypt as a result of Hyk­sos influen­ce, which ope­ned the country to Wes­tern Asia­tic ideas. In the New King­dom (1550–1070 bce) the long-nec­ked lute was often repre­sen­ted in ban­quet sce­nes, pla­yed eit­her by men or women. The two main types of ins­tru­ment, with round (usually a tor­toi­se shell) or oval sound­box, appear in a sce­ne now at the Bri­tish Museum sho­wing details of the frets and sound­ho­les as well as the plec­trum. The ear­liest Egy­ptian evi­den­ce of the lute to sur­vi­ve is a sound­box now in the Metro­po­li­tan Museum, New York, and the­re is a well-pre­ser­ved ins­tru­ment from the The­ban tomb of the sin­ger Har­mo­se in the Cai­ro Museum (Dynasty 18, 1550–1320). The lute had a fun­ction in ritual pro­ces­sions such as tho­se depic­ted in the Luxor tem­ple at the fes­ti­val of Opet, when a num­ber of pla­yers per­for­med toget­her. It appea­red more often, though, in the cham­ber groups that fea­tu­red at court fun­ctions and offi­cial ban­quets. The end of the neck is some­ti­mes car­ved with the head of a goo­se or fal­con. This pro­bably had reli­gious sig­ni­fi­can­ce, as is clearly the case when a Hat­hor head is car­ved. The dwarf-god Bes, him­self pro­bably of Asia­tic ori­gin, is an adept at the lute, and sati­ri­cal sce­nes show it in the hands of a cro­co­di­le.

Gre­co-Roman lutes (see Pan­dou­ra), which are depic­ted in a num­ber of Helle­nis­tic scul­ptu­res and on late Roman sar­cop­ha­gi, are com­pa­ra­ti­vely rare. They appear to have at least three strings, pluc­ked with the fin­gers, and a thick unfret­ted neck. (The evi­den­ce indi­ca­ting this last fea­tu­re, howe­ver, may be influen­ced by the scul­ptu­re medium.) One depic­tion, a terra­cot­ta in the Lou­vre (see fig.4c), shows the body tape­ring to form the neck in the man­ner of the short-nec­ked lute. The sur­vi­ving repre­sen­ta­tions from Byzan­tium, most notably a 5th-cen­tury mosaic from the for­mer impe­rial pala­ce of Istan­bul and a 6th-cen­tury mosaic from a church near Shah­hat, Lib­ya, show lutes of the pan­dou­ra type.

The short-nec­ked lute, which is cha­rac­te­ri­zed by a woo­den body tape­ring off to form the neck and fin­ger­board, pro­bably also ori­gi­na­ted in Asia. The­re are only rare repre­sen­ta­tions of it until the first cen­tu­ries bce. A num­ber of sta­tuet­tes and reliefs (see Gei­rin­ger, A1927–8, pls.1–3) are pre­ser­ved from the Gand­ha­ra cul­tu­re of the time, named from an area in north-west India under the influen­ce of Greek civi­li­za­tion; the­se show short-nec­ked lutes with a pear-sha­ped body, a fron­tal string-hol­der, late­ral pegs and four or five strings pluc­ked with a plec­trum. The Sas­sa­nid lute or bar­bat, as shown on a 6th-cen­tury sil­ver cup from Kalar Dasht, was of this type. Appa­rently the­se ins­tru­ments are rela­ted to tho­se lutes that spread east­wards to Chi­na and Japan, as well as to the Ara­bian ‘ūd, the imme­dia­te ances­tor of the Euro­pean clas­si­cal lute.

3. Structure of the Western lute.

The struc­tu­re of the Wes­tern lute evol­ved gra­dually away from its ances­tor the Ara­bian ‘ūd, though some fea­tu­res have remai­ned suf­fi­ciently con­sis­tent to cons­ti­tu­te defi­ning cha­rac­te­ris­tics. Chief among the­se are: a vaul­ted back, pear-sha­ped in outli­ne and more or less semi­cir­cu­lar in cross-sec­tion, made up of a num­ber of sepa­ra­te ribs; a neck and fin­ger­board tied with gut frets; a flat sound­board or belly in which is car­ved an orna­te sound­ho­le or ‘rose’; a brid­ge, to which the strings are atta­ched, glued near the lower end of the sound­board; a peg­box, usually at nearly a right angle to the neck, with tuning-pegs inser­ted late­rally; and strings of gut, usually arran­ged in pai­red cour­ses.

The ribs, of which the body is cons­truc­ted, are thin (typi­cally about 1·5 mm) strips of wood, bent over a mould and glued toget­her edge to edge to form a sym­me­tri­cal shell. Alt­hough the ove­rall sizes of lutes vary con­si­de­rably, the­re is much less varia­tion in the thick­nes­ses of their cons­ti­tuent parts, and even very lar­ge lutes have ribs of less than 2 mm. The glue joints bet­ween the ribs are rein­for­ced insi­de with narrow strips of paper or parch­ment. Many sur­vi­ving lutes also have five or six strips of, usually, parch­ment glued round insi­de the bowl across the line of the ribs. The num­ber of ribs varies accor­ding to date and sty­le from only seven to up to 65, but it is always an odd num­ber becau­se lute backs are built out­wards from a sin­gle cen­tral rib. Many kinds of wood, even some­ti­mes ivory, have been used for the back. Maple and yew were the favou­red local woods but exo­tic woods from South Ame­ri­ca and East Asia, such as rose­wood, king­wood and ebony, were used as they beca­me avai­la­ble in the 16th cen­tury. The extent of their use by 1566 is revea­led in the inven­tory of Rai­mund Fug­ger (see Smith, B1980). At the lower end, whe­re the­se ribs taper toget­her, they are rein­for­ced inter­nally with a strip of soft­wood bent to fit, and exter­nally with a cap­ping strip, usually of the same mate­rial as the ribs. At the other end the ribs are glued to a block, often of soft­wood, to which the neck is atta­ched. In most pic­tu­res of medie­val lutes up to about 1500, as in the early ‘ūd, the ribs are shown as flo­wing in a smooth cur­ve into the line of the neck and in the­se cases the end of the neck itself, sui­tably reba­ted, may have for­med the block to which the ribs were glued. Howe­ver, by 1360 the­re are already some pic­tu­res sho­wing lutes with a sharp angle bet­ween neck and body, implying that the sepa­ra­te block, which is uni­ver­sally pre­sent in sur­vi­ving lutes, was not unk­nown. The over­lap of the­se two forms span­ned at least 200 years; both forms are depic­ted in The Last Jud­ge­ment by Hie­rony­mus Bosch (c1500, Vien­na Aca­demy). In the later two-part cons­truc­tion the joint is a sim­ple glued butt joint, secu­red with one or more nails dri­ven through the block into the end-grain of the neck. This sim­ple joint pro­ved ade­qua­te during the remain­der of the lute’s his­tory.

Most sur­vi­ving lutes from the early 16th cen­tury have been re-nec­ked in later sty­les but ico­no­grap­hi­cal sour­ces reveal that early necks appear most often to have been made of a sin­gle pie­ce of hard­wood such as syca­mo­re or maple to match the body. In later and sur­vi­ving lutes after about 1580, the neck is most often venee­red in a deco­ra­ti­ve hard­wood, often ebony, some­ti­mes stri­ped or inlaid with ivory, on a core of syca­mo­re or other com­mon hard­wood. At first, throug­hout the medie­val period and into the Renais­san­ce, necks were semi­cir­cu­lar or dee­per in cross-sec­tion. As the num­ber of cour­ses increa­sed through the 16th and 17th cen­tu­ries, the necks beca­me corres­pon­dingly wider, neces­si­ta­ting a chan­ge of left-hand posi­tion to enable stret­ches across to the bass strings. This meant that a thin­ner neck was more com­for­ta­ble. Baron (C1727) com­men­ted that Johann Chris­tian Hoff­mann (1683–1750) made the necks of his lutes to fit the hand of their owner, unli­ke his fat­her Mar­tin Hoff­mann (1653–1719), who made his necks too thick.

Sepa­ra­te fin­ger­boards are often not very appa­rent in pic­tu­res of medie­val lutes, lea­ding to the sup­po­si­tion that they were eit­her made of box­wood or simply cons­ti­tu­ted the flat top sur­fa­ce of the neck. Some­ti­mes when the­re is a mar­ked chan­ge of colour bet­ween the ‘fin­ger­board’ and the sound­board, the join occurs so far down the sound­board as to be beyond any pos­si­ble neck block; a sepa­ra­te fin­ger­board is the­re­fo­re struc­tu­rally impos­si­ble. Ins­tead, the chan­ge of colour must result from a pro­tec­ti­ve coat of somet­hing like var­nish. Sur­vi­ving lutes from the 1580s onwards almost uni­ver­sally have sepa­ra­te ebony fin­ger­boards set flush with the sound­board and, after about 1600, usually with sepa­ra­te ‘points’ deco­ra­ting the joint bet­ween the fin­ger­board and sound­board (see fig.5). The lutes of Tiel­ke in the 18th cen­tury often had mul­ti­ple ‘points’ (see G. Hell­wig, B1980). Medie­val and Renais­san­ce lute fin­ger­boards were usually flat, even the wide chi­ta­rro­ne and theor­bo fin­ger­boards, but from about 1700 makers star­ted to give a cur­ve to their fin­ger­boards, hel­ping the lie of the frets and making fin­ge­ring easier.

At the back of the top end of the neck a reba­te is cut out to form a hou­sing for the peg­box. This same design of joint, with or wit­hout a rein­for­cing nail into the end-grain of the neck, was used throug­hout the his­tory of the lute, as was the basic form of the peg­box: a straight-sided box, clo­sed at the back, open at the front and tape­ring slightly in both width and depth. Howe­ver, after about 1595 various bran­ches of the lute family also deve­lo­ped dif­fe­rent and cha­rac­te­ris­tic peg­box forms in order to accom­mo­da­te the lon­ger bass strings nee­ded to extend the ran­ge of the lute down­wards. Slen­der tape­ring hard­wood tuning-pegs were inser­ted from the sides. Medie­val pegs appear often to have been made of box­wood, but later, in the 17th and 18th cen­tu­ries, fruit­wood such as plum seems to have been a pre­fe­rred mate­rial, though the­se were often stai­ned black.

The sound­board is a flat straight-grai­ned soft­wood pla­te, nowa­days mostly thought of as Picea abies or Picea excel­sa (though his­to­ri­cally the types of wood used may have inclu­ded spe­cies of Pinus and Abies) into which is car­ved an orna­men­tal rose sound­ho­le, who­se pat­tern often shows deci­dedly Ara­bic influen­ce (see Wells, D1981). Howe­ver, it is noti­cea­ble that ico­no­graphy does not sup­port a con­ti­nuous tra­di­tion of rose design from the Ara­bic ‘ūd; most medie­val pic­tu­res of lutes fea­tu­re got­hic designs, and the fre­quency of Ara­bic pat­terns in the later sur­vi­ving lutes may reflect rat­her the con­tem­po­rary inter­est in such designs by artists such as Leo­nar­do da Vin­ci and Dürer. The sound­board is often made from the two hal­ves joi­ned along the cen­tre line, but on lar­ger ins­tru­ments seve­ral pie­ces may be used. Most sur­vi­ving lute sound­boards are qui­te thin, often about 1·5 mm. Howe­ver, the­re is some sup­port for the view that the very ear­liest sound­boards, dating from about 1540, may have been rat­her thic­ker, and that they were made pro­gres­si­vely thin­ner as the num­ber of the sup­por­ting bars was increa­sed (see Nur­se, D1986). Early lutes from befo­re the 1590s usually had no edging to the sound­board. After that, often an ebony or hard­wood strip was reba­ted into half the depth of the sound­board edge as a pro­tec­ti­ve mea­su­re. Later still, when the fas­hion for re-using old sound­boards was in sway (see Lowe, B1976), a ‘lace’ of parch­ment or cloth with sil­ver threads was often used to wrap the edge, pos­sibly to cover pre-exis­ting wear.

Brid­ge designs went through a slow evo­lu­tion, par­ti­cu­larly in the sha­pe of the deco­ra­ti­ve ‘ears’ which ter­mi­na­te both ends, but were con­sis­tently made of a light hard­wood such as pear, plum or wal­nut, some­ti­mes stai­ned black, and were glued directly to the sur­fa­ce of the sound­board. Their cross-sec­tio­nal design was very cle­verly arran­ged to mini­mi­ze stress at the jun­ction with the thin and fle­xi­ble sound­board. Holes dri­lled through the brid­ge took the strings, which were tied so that they were sup­por­ted by a loop of the same string rat­her than by a sadd­le as in the modern gui­tar. This has a mar­ked effect on the tone of the ins­tru­ment, and con­tri­bu­tes to the sweet­ness of the lute’s sound.

The ten­sion of the strings, becau­se they are pulling directly on the sound­board, tends to cau­se it to dis­tort. This is resis­ted by a num­ber of trans­ver­se bars of the same wood as the sound­board, glued on edge across its under­si­de. The­se bars, besi­des sup­por­ting the sound­board, have an impor­tant effect on the sound qua­lity. By divi­ding the sound­board into a num­ber of sec­tions, each with a rela­ti­vely high reso­nant fre­quency, they cau­se it to rein­for­ce the upper har­mo­nics pro­du­ced by a string rat­her than its fun­da­men­tal tone. This is mat­ched by the strings them­sel­ves, which are qui­te thin com­pa­red with tho­se of a modern gui­tar; a thin string tuned to a cer­tain note pro­du­ces more high har­mo­nics than a thic­ker string tuned to the same note. Thus the who­le acous­ti­cal sys­tem of the lute is desig­ned to give a cha­rac­te­ris­ti­cally clear, almost nasal, sound (see also Acous­tics, §II, 8).

4. History.

The Euro­pean lute deri­ves both in name and form from the Arab ins­tru­ment known as the ‘Ūd, which means lite­rally ‘the wood’ (eit­her becau­se it had a sound­board of wood as dis­tinct from a parch­ment skin stret­ched over the body, or becau­se the body itself was built up from woo­den strips rat­her than made from a hollow gourd). The Arab ‘ūd was intro­du­ced into Euro­pe by the Moors during their con­quest and occu­pa­tion of Spain (711‑1492). Pic­to­rial evi­den­ce shows Moo­rish ‘ūd pla­yers, and 9th- and 10th-cen­tury accounts tell of visits of famous pla­yers such as Zir­yāb to the court of the Anda­lu­sian emir ‘Abd al-Rah­mān II (822–52). The ‘ūd was not con­fi­ned to Mus­lims, howe­ver, as is shown by illus­tra­tions to the Can­ti­gas de San­ta María of Alfon­so el Sabio (1221–84) which inclu­de pla­yers in dis­tin­cti­ve Chris­tian cos­tu­me (fig.6). Howe­ver, from pic­to­rial and writ­ten evi­den­ce it is clear that by 1350 what we must now call lutes, sin­ce the­re is no lon­ger any con­nec­tion with Arab musi­cians, had spread very widely throug­hout Euro­pe, even though tra­ding and cul­tu­ral links with Moo­rish Spain were not well deve­lo­ped. We need to look elsew­he­re for a rou­te that would lead to the even­tual domi­na­tion of Euro­pean lute making by nume­rous Ger­man fami­lies who came ori­gi­nally from around the Lech valley region and Bava­ria. Blets­cha­cher (B1978) has argued that this was due lar­gely to the royal visits of Frie­drich II with his mag­ni­fi­cent Moo­rish Sici­lian reti­nue to the towns in this valley bet­ween 1218 and 1237. The valley was a main north–south tra­ding rou­te across the Alps, with the neces­sary raw mate­rials gro­wing the­re in abun­dan­ce, so it would have been a natu­ral focus for any such deve­lop­ment to occur, even more so follo­wing the Vene­tians’ cap­tu­re of Cons­tan­ti­no­ple in 1204 which so greatly increa­sed their tra­ding acti­vi­ties with the Near East. The ‘ūd is still in use alt­hough it no lon­ger has frets. Over the cen­tu­ries it has under­go­ne struc­tu­ral chan­ges analo­gous to tho­se of the lute, and thus dif­fers from both the ori­gi­nal ‘ūd and the medie­val lute.

As no lutes from befo­re the 16th cen­tury have sur­vi­ved, infor­ma­tion must be gat­he­red from pic­tu­res, scul­ptu­re and writ­ten des­crip­tions. The­se indi­ca­te that the lute has usually had its strings in pairs, and that at first the­re were only four such ‘cour­ses’ (fig.7). From the start, lutes were made in widely dif­fe­rent sizes, and the­re­fo­re of dif­fe­rent pit­ches. Both pic­to­rial and writ­ten evi­den­ce point to the use of dif­fe­rent sized lutes for tre­ble and ground duet per­for­man­ce (see Polk, F1992). During the 15th cen­tury a fifth cour­se was added. Masac­cio depic­ted two five-cour­se lutes in his altar­pie­ce, Vir­gin and Child (1426; now in the Natio­nal Gallery, Lon­don). Later, in his De inven­tio­ne et usu musi­cae (c1481–3), Tin­cto­ris men­tio­ned a sixth cour­se and the­re are even tabla­tu­res from this period calling for a seven-cour­se lute, though no con­tem­po­ra­neo­us pic­tu­res show one.

The ear­liest extant account of struc­tu­ral details for the Euro­pean lute is in a manus­cript of about 1440 writ­ten by Hen­ri Arnaut de Zwo­lle (see Har­wood, D1960). Arnaut des­cri­bed both the lute itself and the mould on which it was built, com­bi­ning the two in the same dia­gram (fig.8). His design was unmea­su­red but ins­tead was wor­ked out in terms of geo­me­tri­cal pro­por­tion, inclu­ding the posi­tions of brid­ge, sound­ho­le and three trans­ver­se bars. Almost 200 years later, Mer­sen­ne (1636) des­cri­bed the design and cons­truc­tion of a lute by remar­kably simi­lar met­hods. By this time the num­ber of sound­board bars had dou­bled, but the pla­cing of three of them, as well as that of the sound­ho­le and brid­ge, corres­ponds with that given by Arnaut. The­re can be no doubt that the­re was a well-esta­blis­hed tra­di­tion of ins­tru­ment design by geo­me­tri­cal met­hods, going back to the ‘ūd at least as far as the 9th and 10th cen­tu­ries (see Bou­ter­se, D1979). It is per­haps sig­ni­fi­cant that a por­trait (1562) of the lute maker Gas­par Tief­fen­bruc­ker surroun­ded by his lutes and other ins­tru­ments shows him hol­ding a pair of divi­ders. Howe­ver, when Arnaut’s design is com­pa­red to lutes shown in most pain­tings of the period, it is in fact rat­her dif­fe­rent, being oddly roun­ded at the top of the body. The very long neck he spe­ci­fies is almost never shown. This sug­gests that, as an enqui­ring scho­lar, he may have been given the gene­ral prin­ci­ples of design by the lute maker(s) he con­sul­ted, but not the exact rela­tions­hips which deter­mi­ne the pre­ci­se sha­pe and which may have been regar­ded as a craft secret.

Medie­val lutes usually had two cir­cu­lar roses, one lar­ge and more or less half­way bet­ween the brid­ge and the neck, as spe­ci­fied by Arnaut, the other much sma­ller and hig­her up the body clo­se to the fin­ger­board. The lar­ge rose was occa­sio­nally of the orna­te ‘sun­ken’ variety, often with designs simi­lar to some got­hic cat­he­dral win­dows. This may have been inten­tio­nal, for Arnaut calls the rose in his dra­wing ‘Fenes­trum’. Around 1480 the­re was even a brief fas­hion for the upper rose to be in the form of a lan­cet win­dow, and inter­es­tingly just such a rose has sur­vi­ved in the cla­vicyt­he­rium now in the RCM, Lon­don, which has been dated to about 1480 (see E. Wells: ‘The Lon­don Cla­vicyt­he­rium’, EMc, vi, 1978, pp.568–71).

The ‘ūd was, and still is, pla­yed with a plec­trum, and at first the same met­hod was used for the lute (see figs.4 and 5). With this tech­ni­que it was pro­bably mainly a melo­dic ins­tru­ment, pla­ying a sin­gle line of music, albeit highly orna­te, with per­haps strum­med chords at impor­tant points. Howe­ver, some of the very early plec­tra are shown as lar­ge and solid loo­king, implying that the lute may also have been used as a per­cus­si­ve rhythm ins­tru­ment rat­her like the Roma­nian cob­ză, which clo­sely resem­bles the very early medie­val lute, espe­cially in the wide spa­cing of the strings at the brid­ge and the short­ness of the steeply tape­ring neck (see Lloyd, B1960). This may explain the early dro­ne tunings (see §5 below).

During the second half of the 15th cen­tury, the­re was a chan­ge to pla­ying with the fin­ger­tips, though, as Page (B1981) poin­ted out, the two met­hods con­ti­nued for some time side by side. Tin­cto­ris (c1481–3) wro­te of hol­ding the lute ‘whi­le the strings are struck by the right hand eit­her with the fin­gers or with a plec­trum’, but did not imply that the use of the fin­gers was a novelty. Howe­ver, the chan­ge was very sig­ni­fi­cant for the lute’s futu­re deve­lop­ment, for it allo­wed the pla­ying of seve­ral parts at once, and meant that the huge reper­tory of vocal part music both sacred and secu­lar beca­me avai­la­ble to lute pla­yers. This fun­ction was made easier by the inven­tion about this time of spe­cial sys­tems of nota­tion known as tabla­tu­re, into which much of this reper­tory was trans­cri­bed (inta­bu­la­ted). The­re were three main kinds of tabla­tu­re for the lute, deve­lo­ped in Ger­many, Fran­ce and Italy res­pec­ti­vely. A fourth early sys­tem, ‘Inta­vo­la­tu­ra alla Napo­li­ta­na’, was also used from time to time. Of the four main types the French may have been the ear­liest. The Ger­man one was pro­bably writ­ten during the life­ti­me of Con­rad Pau­mann (c1410–1473), the sup­po­sed inven­tor of the sys­tem. Alt­hough Tin­cto­ris had men­tio­ned a six-cour­se lute, the­se first tabla­tu­res, and indeed the very names by which the strings of the ins­tru­ment were known, sug­gest five cour­ses as still the most usual num­ber at this time.

By about 1500 a sixth cour­se was com­monly in use, which exten­ded the ran­ge of the open strings by anot­her 4th to two octa­ves. This may have been enabled by impro­ve­ments in string making. Gut was used for all the strings and it was usual on the two or three lowest cour­ses to set one of the pair with a thin string tuned an octa­ve hig­her, to lend some bri­llian­ce to the tone of its thick neigh­bour.

By 1500 the first writ­ten records con­firm the exis­ten­ce of seve­ral lute-making fami­lies in and around Füs­sen in the Lech valley. Most of the famous names of 16th- and 17th-cen­tury lute making seem to have ori­gi­na­ted from around this small area of sout­hern Ger­many. By 1562 the Füs­sen makers were suf­fi­ciently well esta­blis­hed to form a guild with ela­bo­ra­te regu­la­tions which have sur­vi­ved (see Blets­cha­cher, B1978, and Layer, B1978). A care­ful reading of the­se regu­la­tions reveals how much they were pre­di­ca­ted on the idea of export. They also show an orga­ni­zed ten­dency to keep the tra­de wit­hin indi­vi­dual fami­lies, which resul­ted in much inter­ma­rria­ge. This was a power­ful for­ce for con­ti­nuity which clearly las­ted for cen­tu­ries. Howe­ver, the num­ber of mas­ters who could set up a works­hop in the town was limi­ted to 20, so the­re was a built-in pres­su­re to emi­gra­te. It was also pre­ci­sely this area which was devas­ta­ted first by the Pea­sants’ Revolt of 1525, the war against the Sch­malkal­dic Lea­gue (1546–55), and finally by the Thirty Years War which killed more than half the popu­la­tion of cen­tral Euro­pe. It is hardly sur­pri­sing that lute makers, who already had inter­na­tio­nal con­nec­tions, moved away from the area in such num­bers.

Many settled in nort­hern Italy, no doubt attrac­ted by the country’s wealth and fas­hion but also per­haps by the access to exo­tic woods impor­ted via Veni­ce. The tra­di­tion of inter­ma­rria­ge meant that they remai­ned toget­her in colo­nies and did not beco­me much inte­gra­ted into Ita­lian society. Luca Maler (see Maler) was acti­ve in Bolog­na from about 1503; by 1530 he was a pro­perty owner of con­si­de­ra­ble subs­tan­ce and had built up an almost indus­trial sca­le works­hop emplo­ying mostly Ger­man crafts­men (see Pas­qual and Ragaz­zi, B1998). The inven­tory com­pi­led at his death in 1552 lists about 1100 finis­hed lutes and more than 1300 sound­boards ready for use; his firm con­ti­nued tra­ding until 1613. Among seve­ral other lute makers in Bolog­na were Marx Unver­dor­ben (briefly) and Hans Frei. The main cha­rac­te­ris­tic of their lutes is a long narrow body of nine or 11 broad ribs with rat­her straight shoul­ders and fairly round at the base. This form is remar­kably clo­se to that pro­po­sed by Bou­ter­se (D1979) in his inter­pre­ta­tion of Per­sian and Ara­bic manus­cripts of the 14th cen­tury. The chief dif­fe­ren­ce is that the­se Midd­le Eas­tern des­crip­tions, like Arnaut’s, indi­ca­te a semi­cir­cu­lar cross-sec­tion, whe­reas the ins­tru­ments of Maler and Frei are somew­hat ‘more squa­re’. Often made from syca­mo­re or ash, they remai­ned highly pri­zed as long as the lute was in use, but beca­me increa­singly rare as time went on. No unal­te­red exam­ple is known to have sur­vi­ved, for their pres­ti­ge was such that they were adap­ted (some­ti­mes more than once) to keep abreast of new fas­hions. They have all been fit­ted with repla­ce­ment necks to carry more strings; some­ti­mes the vaul­ted back is the only ori­gi­nal part remai­ning (see Dow­ning, B1978).

In Veni­ce, as in Bolog­na, the Ger­man colony kept to its own quar­ter and had its own church. By 1521 Ulrich Tief­fen­bruc­ker is recor­ded as pre­sent in the city, and for the next hun­dred years the Tief­fen­bruc­ker family, espe­cially Magno (i), Magno (ii) and Moi­sé, as well as Marx Unver­dor­ben and Luca Maler’s brot­her, Sigis­mond, domi­na­ted lute making in the city (see Tof­fo­lo, B1987). The name Tief­fen­bruc­ker was taken from their ori­gi­nal villa­ge of Tief­fen­bruck, but their ins­tru­ments are usually sig­ned Dief­fo­pru­char and regio­nal spe­llings abound with variants such as Duif­fo­prug­car and even Dubro­card. Anot­her branch of the Tief­fen­bruc­ker family settled in Padua, inclu­ding ‘Wen­de­lio Vene­re’, who has recently been dis­co­ve­red to be Wen­de­lin Tief­fen­bruc­ker, pro­bably the son of Leo­nar­do Tief­fen­bruc­ker the elder. Michael Har­tung also wor­ked in Padua and may have been taught by Wen­de­lin, alt­hough Baron (C1727) sta­ted that he was appren­ti­ced to Leo­nar­do the youn­ger. The typi­cal body sha­pe of the­se Vene­tian and Paduan lutes was less elon­ga­ted than that of Maler’s and Frei’s ins­tru­ments, and the shoul­ders were more cur­ved (see fig.10a, c–f). The first exam­ples had 11 or 13 ribs, but later the num­ber was increa­sed, a fea­tu­re asso­cia­ted with, but not exclu­si­ve to, the use of yew, which has a brown heart­wood and a narrow whi­te sap­wood. For pur­po­ses of deco­ra­tion, each rib was cut half light, half dark, which res­tric­ted the avai­la­ble width and requi­red a lar­ge num­ber of ribs, some­ti­mes tota­lling 51 and even more. The yew wood was sup­plied from the old heartland of lute making in south Ger­many, and cut­ting the ribs for Vene­tian makers beca­me a valua­ble sour­ce of win­ter employ­ment the­re (see Layer, B1978).

The use of geo­me­tri­cal met­hods of lute design has already been men­tio­ned, and it has been found by seve­ral wri­ters that the sha­pe of the­se ins­tru­ments can be readily repro­du­ced by such means (see Edwards, D1973; D. Abbott and E. Seger­man: ‘The Geo­me­tric Des­crip­tion and Analy­sis of Ins­tru­ment Sha­pes’, FoMR­HI Quar­terly, no.2, 1976, p.7; Söh­ne, D1980; Sam­son, D1981; and Coates, D1985). This may account for the simi­la­rity in basic form bet­ween ins­tru­ments of dif­fe­rent sizes and by dif­fe­rent makers. By com­pa­ri­son with the modern gui­tar, the­se early lutes, whet­her of the Bolog­ne­se or Paduan type, are dis­tin­guis­hed by the light­ness of their cons­truc­tion. The egg-like sha­pe of the lute body is inhe­rently strong and does not need to be built of very thick mate­rials. Alt­hough the total ten­sion of up to 24 gut strings (for later lutes) can be as much as 70–80 kg, the well-barred thin sound­board withs­tands this pull remar­kably well. Though in the 17th cen­tury, as Cons­tan­tijn Huygens’s corres­pon­den­ce makes clear, it was rou­ti­ne to re-bar old lutes as part of their reno­va­tion, this may have had more to do with alte­ra­tions in barring layout than struc­tu­ral weak­nes­ses.

The ins­truc­tion to tune the top string as high as it will stand wit­hout brea­king is given in many early lute tutors (though not by Dow­land or Mace). If the hig­hest string is lowe­red for safety’s sake much beneath its brea­king point, the bas­ses will be eit­her too thick and stiff or, if thin­ner, too slack to pro­du­ce an accep­ta­ble sound. Wire-wound bass strings which could ease this dilem­ma by increa­sing the weight wit­hout increa­sing the stiff­ness are not known to have been avai­la­ble until after 1650, and were appa­rently not much used the­reaf­ter eit­her. The­re­fo­re, as the brea­king pitch of a string depends on its length but not on its thick­ness, the wor­king level of a given ins­tru­ment is fixed wit­hin qui­te narrow limits.

In the second half of the 16th cen­tury the­re was a ten­dency to build ins­tru­ments in fami­lies of sizes (and thus pit­ches), roughly corres­pon­ding with the dif­fe­rent types of human voi­ce. The lute was no excep­tion. Exam­ples of the variety of sizes avai­la­ble around 1600 are shown in fig.9. The ins­tru­ment by Magno Tief­fen­bruc­ker (fig.9a) has a string length of 67 cm; the string lengths of the ins­tru­ments shown as fig.9c–g are 29·9 cm, 44 cm, 44·2 cm, 66·6 cm, and 93·8 cm. Strictly spea­king, the sma­llest of the­se (fig.9c) should be called a Man­do­re (see also Man­do­lin, §1). In England the nomi­nal a’ or g’ lute was known as the ‘mean’, and was the size inten­ded in most of the books of ayres, unless other­wi­se spe­ci­fied. The only other names used in English musi­cal sour­ces are ‘bass’ (nomi­nally at d’) and ‘tre­ble’, which is spe­ci­fied for the Mor­ley and Ros­se­ter Con­sort Les­sons. The pitch of the­se ‘tre­ble’ lutes implied by the other parts was also g’ but it is pos­si­ble that this music was inten­ded to be pla­yed at a pitch level a 4th hig­her than that of the mean lute (see Har­wood, B1981). This nomen­cla­tu­re of ‘tre­ble’ has cau­sed some inter­est and, taken toget­her with a num­ber of spe­ci­fi­cally English pic­tu­res of small-bodied long-nec­ked lutes, may indi­ca­te a par­ti­cu­lar English variant (see Forres­ter, B1994).

It should be noted that alt­hough all sorts of sizes were avai­la­ble at most times, the gene­ral trend from 1600 to 1750 was towards lar­ger ins­tru­ments for com­mon use. Thus, for exam­ple, we might expect Dowland’s songs to be accom­pa­nied on a lute of about 58 cm string length tuned to a nomi­nal g’ or a’, whe­reas most French Baro­que music of the mid-17th cen­tury calls for an 11-cour­se lute of about 67 cm with a top string at a nomi­nal f’, whi­le the lutes used in Ger­many in the 18th cen­tury were mostly 13-cour­se ins­tru­ments of about 70–73 cm, also with a nomi­nal top string of f’. Some of this may repre­sent a drop in the pitch stan­dard, but we must also assu­me that string makers had mana­ged to impro­ve their pro­ducts to increa­se the total ran­ge avai­la­ble, sin­ce the­se size chan­ges repre­sent con­si­de­ra­ble chan­ges in the ins­tru­ments’ requi­re­ments. Apart from the deve­lop­ment of over­wound strings, this increa­se in ran­ge could only have been achie­ved by increa­sing the ten­si­le strength of the tre­bles, by making the thick bas­ses more elas­tic and fle­xi­ble or by increa­sing the den­sity of bass strings, per­haps by the addi­tion of meta­llic com­pounds (see Peruf­fo, D1991). The­re is currently much inter­est in trying to repro­du­ce the­se con­jec­tu­red deve­lop­ments. It is noti­cea­ble from writ­ten accounts that the cost of strings was remar­kably high com­pa­red to that of the lutes them­sel­ves, lea­ding to the thought that the­re was more to their manu­fac­tu­re than is now appa­rent.

Alt­hough seven-cour­se lutes appear as early as the late 15th cen­tury, and Bakfark’s appren­ti­ce, Hans Tim­me, wan­ted to buy an Ita­lian seven-cour­se lute as early as 1556 (see Gom­bo­si, F1935), it was only in the 1580s that they beca­me at all com­mon with the seventh cour­se pit­ched at eit­her a tone or a 4th below the sixth (see §5 below). Impro­ved strings are con­jec­tu­red to have popu­la­ri­zed this grea­ter ran­ge, per­haps pro­vi­ding a bet­ter tone and enabling John Dow­land, in his con­tri­bu­tion to his son Robert’s Varie­tie of Lute Les­sons (1610), to recom­mend a uni­son sixth cour­se:

Secondly, set on your Bases, in that pla­ce which you call the sixt string, or γ ut, the­se Bases must be both of one big­nes, yet it hath bee­ne a gene­rall cus­to­me (alt­hough not so much used any whe­re as here in England) to set a small and a great string toget­her, but amongst lear­ned Musi­tians that cus­to­me is left, as irre­gu­lar to the rules of Music­ke.

The same book, reflec­ting the gro­wing ten­dency to increa­se the num­ber of bass strings, inclu­ded English and con­ti­nen­tal music for lutes with six, seven, eight and nine cour­ses. This only occa­sio­nally exten­ded the ran­ge to low C; mostly the extra strings were used to eli­mi­na­te awk­ward fin­ge­rings resul­ting from having to stop the seventh cour­se. The­se ‘dia­pa­sons’ were usually strung with octa­ves. Already by the early 1600s the ten-cour­se lute had made its appea­ran­ce, shown in con­tem­po­rary illus­tra­tions as cons­truc­ted like its pre­de­ces­sors, with the strings run­ning over a sin­gle nut to the peg­box, which has to be con­si­de­rably lon­ger to accom­mo­da­te the addi­tio­nal pegs. The peg­box is also usually shown as being at a much sha­llo­wer angle to the neck than the ear­lier Renais­san­ce lute, a fact bor­ne out by the sur­vi­ving ori­gi­nal ten-cour­se lute by Chris­to­fo­lo Cocho in the Carl Clau­dius collec­tion, Musik­his­to­risk Museum, Copen­ha­gen (no.96a). Often the pain­tings of ten-cour­se lutes show a tre­ble ‘rider’, a small extra peg­hol­der on top of the nor­mal peg­box side, desig­ned to give a less acu­te angle on the nut for the fra­gi­le top string.

Anot­her inno­va­tion repor­ted by Dow­land in Varie­tie was the lengt­he­ning of the neck of the ins­tru­ment:

for my sel­fe was bor­ne but thirty yee­res after Hans Ger­les boo­ke was prin­ted, and all the Lutes which I can remem­ber used eight frets … some few yee­res after, by the French Nation, the nec­kes of the Lutes were length­ned, and the­reby increa­sed two frets more, so as all tho­se Lutes, which are most recei­ved and disi­red, are of ten­ne frets.

Initially this may have been done to impro­ve the tone of the low bas­ses, but unless stron­ger tre­ble strings beca­me avai­la­ble at the same time, the pitch level of the­se lon­ger lutes must have been lower than the older eight-fret ins­tru­ments. Inter­es­tingly, one such lengt­he­ned neck sur­vi­ved until qui­te recently, but when it was ‘res­to­red’ this impor­tant sour­ce of evi­den­ce for the prac­ti­ce was remo­ved. Some­ti­mes extra woo­den frets were glued on to the sound­board, an inven­tion which Dow­land attri­bu­ted to the English pla­yer Mat­hias Mason.

It is inter­es­ting that Dow­land should thus report the pre­vai­ling fas­hion in lutes as coming from Fran­ce, for by his death in 1626 Fran­ce was the domi­nant cul­tu­re musi­cally and was the cen­tre for deve­lop­ments in dif­fe­rent tunings, star­ting some time around 1620, which led to the 11-cour­se lute. Lowe (B1986) has sug­ges­ted that the 11th cour­se may at first have been only an octa­ve string. The later sur­vi­ving 11-cour­se lutes mostly appear to be con­ver­sions of ten-cour­se ins­tru­ments, all done in the same way, by making the second cour­se sin­gle and adding a tre­ble rider for the top string or ‘chan­te­re­lle’ on the top of the nor­mal peg­box tre­ble side. This effec­ti­vely gave two extra pegs which were used for the new bass cour­se, but, becau­se the neck was now too narrow, the­se strings were taken over an exten­ded nut which pro­jec­ted beyond the fin­ger­board and were fas­te­ned to the pegs on the outsi­de of the peg­box. The famous por­trait of Char­les Mou­ton (see fig.12) clearly shows that this was obviously not regar­ded as a stop­gap mea­su­re. This final extra cour­se on the same string-length has often been attri­bu­ted to the inven­tion of wire-wound or overs­pun strings, first adver­ti­sed in England by Play­ford in 1664. Howe­ver the­re is dis­tres­singly little hard evi­den­ce that the­se were in fact much used and they are not men­tio­ned by eit­her Mace or the Bur­well tutor even though both wro­te about the choi­ce of strings. As Lowe (B1976) has shown, during the 17th cen­tury the French were already buying and con­ver­ting early 16th-cen­tury Bolog­na lutes, see­mingly becau­se of a new aest­he­tic which valued the anti­que. The­re are so few sur­vi­ving lutes with any claim to have been made in Fran­ce that it is not pos­si­ble to be sure what their makers were pro­du­cing by way of new lutes at a time when lute pla­ying was so impor­tant to French musi­cal life. One must assu­me that the French can­not all have been pla­ying on anti­que ins­tru­ments. Indeed the inven­tory of the French maker Jean Des­mou­lins (d 1648) points to a vigo­rous rate of pro­duc­tion sin­ce it lists 249 lutes in various sta­ges of cons­truc­tion as well as 14 theor­bos both lar­ge and small (see Lay, F1996). Only one lute by this maker has sur­vi­ved (Cité de la Musi­que, Mar­sei­lles).

Makers wor­king in Italy, whe­re the old tuning held sway, had already addres­sed the pro­blem of exten­ding the bass ran­ge in the 1590s by the expe­dient of having lon­ger and the­re­fo­re natu­rally dee­per-soun­ding strings carried on a sepa­ra­te peg­box. The theor­bo, chi­ta­rro­ne, liu­to attior­ba­to and archlu­te all had exten­ded straight-sided peg­bo­xes car­ved from a solid pie­ce of wood set into the neck hou­sing at a very sha­llow angle and carrying at their ends a sepa­ra­te small peg­box for the­se exten­ded bass strings. The form of all the­se ins­tru­ments is very simi­lar, dif­fe­ring mainly in the length of the exten­ded peg­box, the num­ber of cour­ses carried and whet­her the bass cour­ses were dou­ble or sin­gle. It was the­re­fo­re only to be expec­ted that this prin­ci­ple of lon­ger, and the­re­fo­re unfin­ge­red, bass strings should also be applied to non-con­ti­nuo lutes. From about 1595 to 1630 various other types of exten­ded peg­bo­xes were tried for the bass strings. In one ver­sion, an extra pie­ce of neck was added on the bass side which carried its own small bent-back peg­box. One of the­se (by Six­tus Rau­wolf, 1599, though the exten­sion may be later) has sur­vi­ved in the Carl Clau­dius collec­tion, Musik­his­to­risk Museum, Copen­ha­gen and the­re are seve­ral pain­tings sho­wing this form, inclu­ding works by Car­lo Sara­ce­ni (c1579–1620) and Jan Mien­se Mole­naer (c1610–1668).

More widely adop­ted was a dou­ble-hea­ded lute with cur­ved peg­bo­xes (see fig.13), one set back­wards at an angle rat­her like the nor­mal lute, the other exten­ded in the same pla­ne as the fin­ger­board. This carried four sepa­ra­te small nuts to take the bass cour­ses in steps of increa­sing length. This form usually had 12 cour­ses and was appa­rently inven­ted by Jac­ques Gau­tier in about 1630 (see Spen­cer, B1976, and Sam­son, B1977) but was not used much by the French who remai­ned lar­gely loyal to their sin­gle-hea­ded lutes. As the aut­hor of the Bur­well Lute Tutor (c1670) wro­te: ‘All England hath accep­ted that Aug­men­ta­tion and ffraun­ce att first but soo­ne after that alte­ra­tion hath bee­ne con­dem­ned by all the french Mas­ters who are retur­ned to thei­re old fas­hion kee­ping onely the small Elea­venth’. He, or she, objec­ted to the length of the lon­ger bass strings and felt that they rang on too much, the­reby cau­sing dis­cords in moving bass lines. It was, howe­ver, widely used in England and the Net­her­lands until at least the end of the 17th cen­tury. The appa­rent thin­king behind this form was a desire to avoid the sud­den leaps in tone qua­lity bet­ween the tre­ble and bass strings which cha­rac­te­ri­ze the theor­bo and archlu­te forms. An impor­tant tutor for this type of lute was Tho­mas Mace’s Musick’s Monu­ment (1676), in which it was clas­sed as a French lute; Tal­bot (c1695), howe­ver, called it the ‘English two hea­ded lute’. For Tal­bot the ‘French lute’ had 11 cour­ses, with all the strings on a sin­gle head. The­re has been some dis­cus­sion as to the size of the­se ins­tru­ments (see Seger­man, D1998). Tal­bot mea­su­red the string length of a 12-cour­se ins­tru­ment of this type as 59·7 cm; ico­no­grap­hi­cal sour­ces show all sizes. To date, six exam­ples of this type have been found with fin­ge­red string lengths of bet­ween 50 and 75 cm.

This same prin­ci­ple of step­ped nuts for bass strings of gra­dually increa­sing length lay behind a spe­ci­fi­cally English form of the theor­bo, which is also des­cri­bed in Mace and was mea­su­red by Tal­bot (see Say­ce, B1995; Van Edwards, B1995). Unu­sually for a theor­bo this had dou­ble-strung cour­ses in the bass which still furt­her smoot­hed the transition across the ran­ge. None of the­se have sur­vi­ved. The French too seem to have deve­lo­ped their own ver­sion of the theor­bo prin­ci­ple in the 17th cen­tury with a shor­ter exten­sion than the Ita­lian theor­bo and pos­sibly with sin­gle strin­ging (see Theor­bo).

In Italy in the 17th cen­tury the dri­ve towards exten­ding the bass ran­ge of the lute was accom­mo­da­ted somew­hat more con­sis­tently by incor­po­ra­ting the theor­bo design into sma­ller lutes for solo use. Thus the liu­to attior­ba­to came to be used in addi­tion to nor­mal lutes and theor­bos, and later archlu­tes, for accom­pan­ying sin­gers and con­ti­nuo work. Mat­teo Sellas was part of anot­her lar­ge Ger­man family of ins­tru­ment makers still based in Italy, and pro­du­ced very ela­bo­ra­te lutes and liu­ti attior­ba­ti of ivory and ebony at his works­hop ‘alla Coro­na’ (at the sign of the crown) in Veni­ce. His brot­her Gior­gio made equally deco­ra­ti­ve gui­tars and lutes ‘alla ste­lla’. Wor­king in Rome, beyond what might seem to be the natu­ral bounds of migra­tion from Ger­many, were David Tec­chler, Anto­nio Giau­na and Cint­hius Rotun­dus, from each of whom has sur­vi­ved an archlu­te, attes­ting this instrument’s impor­tan­ce in Rome in the 17th and 18th cen­tu­ries.

By the begin­ning of the 18th cen­tury, the cen­tre of acti­vity in lute music shif­ted from Fran­ce to Ger­many and Bohe­mia. The makers exten­ded the ran­ge of the ins­tru­ment still furt­her, and by 1719 com­po­sers were wri­ting for 13 cour­ses. The­re were two types of 13-cour­se lutes deve­lo­ped and it is hard to say which was first, sin­ce both are pos­si­ble con­ver­sions from pre-exis­ting 11-cour­se ins­tru­ments and so labels are not con­clu­si­ve. Pain­tings of both types are sur­pri­singly rare. In one ver­sion a sin­gle peg­box was used like that of the 11-cour­se lute, but, pos­sibly star­ting as a con­ver­sion, a small sub­si­diary peg­box or ‘bass rider’ with four pegs to take the extra two cour­ses was added to the bass side of the main peg­box (see fig.14). This had the effect of giving bet­ween 5 and 7 cm extra length to the­se two cour­ses. Com­monly the­se lutes were qui­te lar­ge by pre­vious stan­dards with 70 to 75 cm being the usual string length. From what has been said so far about strin­ging this must imply a lower pitch for the main strings. It is clear from the details of the tabla­tu­re that Sil­vius Leo­pold Weiss com­po­sed throug­hout his life for this ver­sion of the 13-cour­se lute which was deve­lo­ped by the new gene­ra­tion of Ger­man makers, wor­king in Bohe­mia and Ger­many itself. Among the most impor­tant at this time were Sebas­tian Sche­lle and his pupil Leo­pold Wid­halm wor­king in Nurem­berg (see Mar­tius, B1996), Mar­tin Hoff­mann and his son Johann Chris­tian wor­king in Leip­zig, Joa­chim Tiel­ke and his pupil J.H. Goldt wor­king in Ham­burg (see G. Hell­wig, B1980) and Tho­mas Edlin­ger of Augs­burg and his son Tho­mas, who moved to Pra­gue and set up his works­hop the­re. All the­se makers were vio­lin makers as well, reflec­ting the gro­wing impor­tan­ce of this ins­tru­ment at a time when the lute was beco­ming less in demand.

The­se makers were also res­pon­si­ble for the other ver­sion of the 13-cour­se lute with exten­ded bass strings, the Ger­man Baro­que lute (see Spen­cer, B1976). This had an orna­tely cur­ved dou­ble peg­box car­ved out of a sin­gle pie­ce of wood, usually ebo­ni­zed syca­mo­re. This type did not usually have a tre­ble rider, but did occa­sio­nally fea­tu­re a small sepa­ra­te slot car­ved in the tre­ble side of the main peg­box to take the top string. Typi­cally this kind of lute had eight cour­ses on the fin­ger­board and five octa­ved cour­ses going to the upper peg­box, the­se five being nor­mally bet­ween 25 and 30 cm lon­ger than the fin­ge­red strings. This design appears to be a modi­fi­ca­tion of the pre-exis­ting Angé­li­que form. Some appa­rently early 13-cour­se lutes, such as the 1680 Tiel­ke ins­tru­ment, dating from long befo­re the ear­liest sur­vi­ving 13-cour­se music (c1719), seem to be con­ver­ted ‘angé­li­ques’. Others, such as the Fux con­ver­sion in 1696 of a Tief­fen­bruc­ker ins­tru­ment and the 13-cour­se lute of Mar­tin Hoff­mann dating from the 1690s, rai­se more awk­ward ques­tions of dating. An even more ela­bo­ra­te tri­ple peg­box form of this type was also deve­lo­ped and a few exam­ples have sur­vi­ved, notably by Johan­nes Jauck, a lute and vio­lin maker wor­king in Graz, and Mar­tin Bru­ner (1724–1801) in Olo­mouc. The­se seem to have been fun­ctio­nally the same as the dou­ble peg­box form, and they may have repre­sen­ted a furt­her attempt to obtain a smoot­her transition from the tre­ble to bass cour­ses.

Inter­nally, the barring struc­tu­re behind the brid­ge was alte­red by the­se makers. Begin­ning with an increa­se in the num­ber of small tre­ble-side fan bars, the cha­rac­te­ris­tic J-bar on the bass side of the Renais­san­ce sound­board was finally remo­ved and various kinds of fan-barring were intro­du­ced right across this area of the sound­board. The­se seem to have had the effect of increa­sing the bass res­pon­se. The main trans­ver­se bars were also made slightly sma­ller and more even in height, may­be with the same inten­tion. The body outli­ne of the­se lutes is remar­kably simi­lar to that of the early 16th-cen­tury lutes of Frei and Maler and this resem­blan­ce may well have been deli­be­ra­te, for the old ins­tru­ments con­ti­nued to be highly pri­zed. It was about this time (1727) that the first sys­te­ma­tic his­tory of the lute was writ­ten, by E.G. Baron. Refe­rring to the lutes of Luca Maler, he wro­te:

But it is a sour­ce of won­der that he already built them after the modern fas­hion, namely with the body long in pro­por­tion, flat and broad-rib­bed, and which, pro­vi­ded that no fraud has been intro­du­ced, and they are ori­gi­nal, are estee­med abo­ve all others. They are highly valued becau­se they are rare and have a splen­did tone.

This echoes the value pla­ced on Maler lutes in the Fug­ger inven­tory of nearly 200 years ear­lier, which talks of ‘An old good lute by Laux Maler’ and ‘One old good lute by Sig[ismond] Maler’. Baron’s com­ment on the pos­si­bi­lity of fraud is also inter­es­ting in this con­text, sin­ce the­re are seve­ral sur­vi­ving lutes with sup­po­sedly 16th-cen­tury Tief­fen­bruc­ker labels which are clearly the work of Tho­mas Edlin­ger the youn­ger wor­king in Pra­gue at about the time Baron was publis­hed. Tho­mas Mace too wro­te of Maler ‘but the Chief Name we most esteem, is Laux Maller, ever writ­ten with Text Let­ters: Two of which Lutes I have seen (pit­ti­ful Old, Batter’d, Crack’d Things) valued at 100 l [£] a pie­ce’.

In the 18th cen­tury a much sim­pler form of Ger­man ‘lute’, the man­do­ra, emer­ged with the same string lengths and barring sys­tem as the Baro­que lute but usually with only six or eight cour­ses in a variety of tunings. Appa­rently mainly used by ama­teurs, it also found a use­ful niche in orches­tras in pla­ce of the 13-cour­se Baro­que lute as well as for con­ti­nuo and bass lines in sacred music, espe­cially lar­ge sca­le works.

Throug­hout the lute’s his­tory the gut strings have been mat­ched by mova­ble gut frets tied around the neck. The pla­cing of the­se frets has always been a pro­blem to both theo­re­ti­cians and pla­yers, and many attem­pts have been made to find a sys­tem that will give the nea­rest approach to true into­na­tion for as wide a ran­ge of inter­vals and in as many posi­tions as pos­si­ble. A num­ber of wri­ters, inclu­ding Ger­le (C1532), Ber­mu­do (C1555), the anony­mous aut­hor of Dis­cours non plus mélan­cho­li­que (1557), Vin­cen­zo Gali­lei (Fro­ni­mo, 1568) and John Dow­land, put for­ward various sys­tems, many of which were based on Pyt­ha­go­rean inter­vals. Late 16th-cen­tury theo­rists in Italy, as well as 17th-cen­tury wri­ters such as Prae­to­rius and Mer­sen­ne, habi­tually assu­med that the into­na­tion of the lute (and other fret­ted ins­tru­ments) repre­sen­ted equal tem­pe­ra­ment, whe­reas key­board ins­tru­ments were tuned to some form of mean-tone tem­pe­ra­ment (see Tem­pe­ra­ments).

5. Tunings.

The ear­liest tuning ins­truc­tions for the Wes­tern lute date from the late 15th cen­tury and are mostly for five-cour­se lute. The best known is that of Johan­nes Tin­cto­ris, who­se De inven­tio­ne et usu musi­cae (c1481–3) gives a tuning of 4ths around a cen­tral 3rd. Howe­ver, as both five- and six-cour­se lutes are men­tio­ned, the posi­tion of the ‘cen­tral 3rd’ is unfor­tu­na­tely ambi­guous. Both the Königs­tein Lie­der­buch (c1470–73) and an English manus­cript dating from bet­ween 1493 and 1509 (GB-Ctc 0.2.13) give inter­vals of 4–3–4–4 from bass to tre­ble. Ramis de Pareia (Musi­ca prac­ti­ca, Bolog­na, 1482) sta­ted that the most com­mon tuning was Gcead’, but men­tio­ned anot­her dro­ne tuning with the lowest three strings tuned to Ada; the tre­bles were set in various (uns­pe­ci­fied) ways. Anto­nio de Nebri­ja (Voca­bu­la­rio Espa­ñol-Latino, Sala­man­ca, c1495) appa­rently gave an unli­kely dimi­nis­hed 5th bet­ween the two lowest cour­ses, then 3–4–5, but the correct trans­la­tion of his des­crip­tion is dis­pu­ted. The late 15th-cen­tury Pesa­ro manus­cript (I-PESo 1144) inclu­des tabla­tu­re for a seven-cour­se lute with the tuning 4–4–4–3–4–4, as does a manus­cript now in Bolog­na (I-Bu 596.HH.24, which pro­bably dates from the same period. The lat­ter gives the tuning EAdgbe’–a’.

By around 1500 six cour­ses had beco­me stan­dard; the ear­liest prin­ted sour­ces, inclu­ding Spi­na­cino (1507), Dal­za (1508) and Bos­si­nen­sis (1509 and 1511) requi­re a six-cour­se lute, usually tuned 4–4–3–4–4. Vir­dung (Musi­ca getuscht; Bas­le, 1511) men­tio­ned lutes of five, six and seven cour­ses, the six-cour­se lute being the most com­mon, and gave a tuning 4–4–3–4–4, with the sixth cour­se tuned to a nomi­nal A. The fourth, fifth and sixth cour­ses were tuned in octa­ves, the second and third cour­ses in uni­sons, with a sin­gle first cour­se. Agri­co­la advo­ca­ted this pat­tern in the first edi­tion of his Musi­ca ins­tru­men­ta­lis deudsch (Wit­ten­berg, 1529) but gave a tuning a tone lower, in nomi­nal G. Occa­sio­nally the sixth cour­se was tuned down a tone, a varia­tion called ‘Abzug’ by Vir­dung and ‘bor­don des­cor­da­to’ by Spi­na­cino. In the 1545 edi­tion of Musi­ca ins­tru­men­ta­lis deudsch Agri­co­la sta­ted that a seven-cour­se ins­tru­ment, with the seventh cour­se tuned a tone below the sixth cour­se, was pre­fe­ra­ble to this scor­da­tu­ra, which was dif­fi­cult to mana­ge.

This basic six-cour­se tuning, with octa­ved lower cour­ses, and an inter­val of two octa­ves bet­ween the outer cour­ses, remai­ned the norm for most of the 16th cen­tury. Tabla­tu­re sour­ces with para­llel staff nota­tion (from both the 16th and early 17th cen­tu­ries) show that the most com­mon nomi­nal tunings were eit­her in A (Adgbe’–a’) or G (Gcfad’–g’), though lutes in other nomi­nal pit­ches are encoun­te­red. The­re is a con­si­de­ra­ble body of lite­ra­tu­re dis­cus­sing whet­her or not the­se varia­ble pit­ches were inten­ded to be inter­pre­ted lite­rally. Prac­ti­cal con­si­de­ra­tions of ins­tru­ment avai­la­bi­lity, toget­her with nota­tio­nal con­si­de­ra­tions such as the avoi­dan­ce of leger lines in the staff nota­ted part, sug­gest that the­se appa­rent lute pit­ches were only nomi­nal. Cue notes are often pro­vi­ded in the tabla­tu­re, to cla­rify the rela­tions­hip of lute pitch to staff nota­tion. The abso­lu­te pitch of the lute was varia­ble; con­tem­po­rary tutors typi­cally ins­truct the pla­yer to tune the top cour­se as high as pos­si­ble, and set the other strings to that.

Sur­vi­ving 16th-cen­tury tabla­tu­res for mul­ti­ple lutes call for a total ‘con­sort’ of nomi­nal d», a’, g’, e’ and d’, to accom­mo­da­te all of the varia­tions encoun­te­red in the duet and trio reper­to­ries, though Prae­to­rius (Syn­tag­ma musi­cum, ii, 1618, 2/1619/R) men­tio­ned other sizes too. The inter­vals bet­ween cour­ses remai­ned the same, irres­pec­ti­ve of the size of the lute. A few lute­nists explo­red other tunings, albeit briefly; the­se inclu­ded Hans Neu­sid­ler (1544) who­se infa­mous Juden­tanz requi­res a dro­ne tuning; Bar­be­riis (1549) prin­ted pie­ces using the tunings 4–5–3–4–4, 5–4–2–4–4, and 4–4–3–5–4; Wolff Hec­kel (1562) also used a dro­ne tuning for a Juden­tanz and other pie­ces.

By the 1580s a seventh cour­se, tuned eit­her a tone or a 4th below the sixth cour­se, was in regu­lar use, and eight-cour­se lutes incor­po­ra­ting both of the­se options beca­me com­mon in the 1590s. By the early 1600s ten-cour­se lutes were in use, with dia­to­ni­cally tuned bas­ses des­cen­ding step­wi­se from the sixth cour­se. Around the same period the octa­ve tuning of at least the fourth and fifth cour­ses was drop­ped in favour of uni­sons, though the octa­ves were cer­tainly retai­ned on the lowest cour­ses and per­haps on the sixth cour­se too. Other­wi­se the tuning of the six upper cour­ses remai­ned essen­tially unchan­ged, and beca­me known as vieil ton. The­re was a brief vogue for cor­des ava­llées tunings in Fran­ce, used by Fran­cis­que (1600) and Besard (C1603), which invol­ved lowe­ring the fourth, fifth and sixth cour­ses to give dro­ne-like 4ths and 5ths. The­se tunings were used almost exclu­si­vely for rus­tic dan­ce pie­ces.

In the early years of the 17th cen­tury two dis­tinct tra­di­tions began to emer­ge. The Ita­lians mostly retai­ned the old tuning, adding extra bass cour­ses (see Archlu­te) though P.P. Melli and Ber­nar­do Gia­non­ce­lli expe­ri­men­ted with variant tunings of the upper cour­ses. Around 1620 French com­po­sers began to expe­ri­ment with seve­ral accords nou­veaux, first on ten-cour­se lutes, and later on 11- and 12-cour­se ins­tru­ments. (With the­se new tunings, the inter­val bet­ween the first and sixth cour­ses was always narro­wer than the two octa­ves of vieil ton; they should not be con­fu­sed with the cor­des ava­llées tunings, whe­re this inter­val was always wider than two octa­ves.) This expe­ri­men­ta­tion con­ti­nued until at least the 1670s, and music for over 20 dif­fe­rent tunings sur­vi­ves, many of which were given dif­fe­rent names by dif­fe­rent scri­bes or com­po­sers (see Schul­ze-Kurz, E1990). Howe­ver, only a hand­ful were com­mon and the­se inclu­ded what is today con­si­de­red to be the nor­mal ‘Baro­que’ D minor tuning. This did not beco­me stan­dard until the second half of the 17th cen­tury; the tuning com­monly known as ‘Flat French’ was equally popu­lar until about the 1660s. The advan­ta­ges of the new tunings were increa­sed reso­nan­ce and ease of left-hand fin­ge­ring, though only wit­hin a very limi­ted ran­ge of keys. The deri­va­tion of the­se tunings from vieil ton, and the sub­se­quent emer­gen­ce of the D minor tuning, has been somew­hat obfus­ca­ted by recent edi­to­rial met­hods which trans­cri­be the­se tunings on the basis of an ins­tru­ment who­se sixth cour­se is tuned to G. The transition is much clea­rer (and trans­crip­tions emer­ge in less obs­cu­re keys) if the sixth cour­se in vieil ton is con­si­de­red to be A. Some of the more com­mon tunings are shown in Table 1. In all of the abo­ve tunings (inclu­ding vieil ton on lutes with more than eight cour­ses) the bas­ses were tuned dia­to­ni­cally down­wards from the sixth cour­se. The lute had beco­me essen­tially dia­to­nic in its bass regis­ter, and the tuning of the lowest cour­ses would be adjus­ted for the key of the pie­ce. (This was a major fac­tor in the grou­ping of pie­ces by key, which led to the baro­que sui­te.)

The first print to use the new tunings was Pie­rre Ballard’s Tabla­tu­re de luth de dif­fé­rents aut­heurs sur l’accord ordi­nai­re et extra­or­di­nai­re (Paris, 1623; now lost). Slightly later collec­tions sur­vi­ve, con­tai­ning fine music by Mesan­geau, Chancy, Belle­vi­lle, Robert Ballard (ii), Pie­rre Gau­tier (i) and others, in various accords nou­veaux. The tunings were widely used in England after the 1630s; publi­ca­tions by Richard Mat­hew (1652) and Tho­mas Mace (C1676) use ‘Flat French’ tuning; Mace pro­vi­ded a trans­la­tion chart to con­vert tabla­tu­res bet­ween ‘Flat French’ and ‘D minor’ tunings. By the 1670s the 11-cour­se sin­gle-peg­box lute in D minor tuning had emer­ged as the pre­fe­rred norm throug­hout much of Euro­pe, and remai­ned so until the early years of the 18th cen­tury, when two furt­her cour­ses were added, exten­ding the lute’s ran­ge down to A’. The last prin­ted sour­ces to make sig­ni­fi­cant use of variant tunings are Esaias Reus­ner (ii) (1676) and Jakob Krem­berg (1689).

6. Technique.

Seve­ral wri­ters of ins­truc­tion books for the lute have remar­ked that many mas­ters of the art were, as Mace put it, ‘extre­me Shie in revea­ling the Occult and Hid­den Secrets of the Lute’. Ber­mu­do had lamen­ted the same cha­rac­te­ris­tic in tea­chers: ‘What a pity it is (and tho­se who have Chris­tian unders­tan­ding must weep for it) that the great secrets of music die in a moment with the per­son of the musi­cian, for lack of having com­mu­ni­ca­ted them to others’. The trai­ning of pro­fes­sio­nal pla­yers was almost cer­tainly carried on through some sys­tem of appren­ti­ces­hip, and this may well be one of the reasons why com­pa­ra­ti­vely few books give really infor­ma­ti­ve ins­truc­tions on all aspects of pla­ying tech­ni­que. Nevert­he­less, details have been left by the more cons­cien­tious aut­hors that are suf­fi­ciently clear to esta­blish the main cha­rac­te­ris­tics of lute tech­ni­que in each period.

Alt­hough little was writ­ten about left-hand tech­ni­ques, cer­tain basic rules were men­tio­ned from the Capi­ro­la Lute­book (c1517, US-Cn; ed. O. Gom­bo­si, 1955; see also Marin­co­la, F1983) onwards. The lute must be held in such a way that no weight is taken by the left hand. The thumb should be pla­ced lightly on the under­si­de of the neck, oppo­si­te the first and second fin­gers. The tips of the fin­gers should always stay as clo­se as pos­si­ble to the strings so that each one is ready to take its posi­tion wit­hout undue move­ment. Fin­gers must be kept in posi­tion on the strings until they are requi­red to stop anot­her string, or until the har­mony chan­ges. Juden­kü­nig went so far as to say they must never be lif­ted until nee­ded elsew­he­re.

In Capirola’s lute­book the pla­yer was advi­sed to keep the fin­gers in readi­ness and not to avoid using the little fin­ger; the first fin­ger could be laid across seve­ral strings to form a barré chord. Some­ti­mes a fin­ger was pla­ced on one string only of a cour­se in order to crea­te an extra voi­ce (a devi­ce also des­cri­bed by Valen­tin Bak­fark and the vihue­list Miguel de Fuen­lla­na); the right hand would then stri­ke through the who­le cour­se as usual.

It was, howe­ver, the Ger­man mas­ters who first codi­fied a sys­tem of fin­ge­ring. Juden­kü­nig gave a series of dia­grams of left-hand posi­tions. In the first of the­se the hand spans the first three frets and the fourth fret on the sixth cour­se; the first fin­ger is mar­ked with the six cha­rac­ters of the first fret in Ger­man tabla­tu­re; the second fin­ger is mar­ked with the next series; the third fin­ger takes the lower three cour­ses on the third fret; and the little fin­ger takes the upper three cour­ses as well as the fourth fret on the sixth cour­se. Each dia­gram shows the fin­gers rigidly alig­ned on the appro­pria­te fret. A small cross pla­ced abo­ve a let­ter indi­ca­tes that the fin­ger must be held down and the follo­wing note pla­yed with the next fin­ger, wha­te­ver fret it may be on. Juden­kü­nig did not des­cri­be the fin­ge­ring of chords, or cross-fin­ge­ring whe­re the coun­ter­point makes it neces­sary to depart from the pres­cri­bed align­ment. Neu­sid­ler (Ein new­geord­net künstlich Lau­ten­buch, 1536) indi­ca­ted by means of dots the fin­ge­ring of a num­ber of sim­ple com­po­si­tions. In gene­ral he follo­wed the rules laid down by Juden­kü­nig, but he also sho­wed how chords cons­tantly demand the use of fin­gers on frets other than tho­se allot­ted to them in a strict dia­gram­ma­tic sche­me.

In England and Fran­ce little atten­tion was given to left-hand tech­ni­que until the publi­ca­tion of Adrian Le Roy’s tutor Ins­truc­tion … de luth (?1557, lost, repr. 1567, also lost, Eng. trans., 1568, see §8(v)), which des­cri­bed the barré chord as ‘couching’ the first fin­ger ‘along overth­wart the stop­pe’. Robin­son (C1603) des­cri­bed how to fin­ger cer­tain chord pas­sa­ges and also how to fin­ger ascen­ding and des­cen­ding melo­dic lines. He also added fin­ge­ring marks to the first five com­po­si­tions in his books. Besard (C1603) des­cri­bed in con­si­de­ra­ble detail the use of the barré, and half barré, and also gave advi­ce on how to choo­se the correct fin­ger for hol­ding notes, par­ti­cu­larly in the bass. Later in the 17th cen­tury more com­ple­te mar­kings were given by Nico­las Vallet (Secre­tum musa­rum, 1615) and, for a 12-cour­se French lute, Mace.

Until about the second half of the 15th cen­tury most repre­sen­ta­tions of lute pla­yers (whe­re the details are visi­ble) show the strings being struck with a quill or plec­trum. The hand approa­ches the strings from below the brid­ge and lies nearly para­llel with them. The plec­trum or quill is held eit­her bet­ween the thumb and first fin­ger, or the first and second, or even the second and third. Gra­dually the fin­gers repla­ced the plec­trum. In pic­tu­res dating from about 1480 it is com­mon to see pla­yers with the hand in a slightly more trans­ver­se posi­tion (see fig.9). For any com­po­si­tion invol­ving chords the advan­ta­ge of this chan­ge is obvious. Tin­cto­ris obser­ved that pla­yers were beco­ming so skil­ful that they could play four voi­ces toget­her on the lute per­fectly.

The ear­liest prin­ted books gave little infor­ma­tion about right-hand tech­ni­ques. A dot pla­ced under a note sig­ni­fied that it was to be pla­yed upwards, and the absen­ce of a dot down­wards; all pas­sa­ges of sin­gle notes were pla­yed accor­dingly. Later sour­ces spe­ci­fied that the down­ward stro­ke was always taken by the thumb on the accen­ted beat, whi­le the unac­cen­ted beat was taken upwards, usually with the first fin­ger. This type of fin­ge­ring was to remain stan­dard prac­ti­ce until about 1600. It was still men­tio­ned by Ales­san­dro Pic­ci­ni­ni (Inta­vo­la­tu­ra di liu­to, et di chi­ta­rro­ne, 1623) and by Mer­sen­ne (1636–7), and it sur­vi­ved for runs of sin­gle notes across the lute from bot­tom to top and for cer­tain other pas­sa­ges until 1660–70.

Accor­ding to the ins­truc­tions in the Capi­ro­la manus­cript (the first to give any real insight into the pla­ying posi­tion of the right hand), the thumb was held under the second fin­ger, that is, insi­de the hand. Adrian Le Roy was the first to men­tion that the little fin­ger is pla­ced on the belly of the lute, alt­hough many repre­sen­ta­tions of pla­yers befo­re 1568 show the hand with the little fin­ger in this posi­tion. Le Roy wro­te: ‘the little fin­ger ser­veth but to keep the han­de from [firm] upon the bea­lie of the Lute’. From then onwards it was fre­quently men­tio­ned. Robin­son, for exam­ple, said: ‘lea­ne upon the bellie of the Lute with your little fin­ger one­lie, & that neit­her to far from the Tre­ble strings, neit­her to nee­re’. Mace wro­te: ‘The 2d. thing to be gain’d is, set­ting down your Little Fin­ger upon the Belly, as afo­re­said, clo­se under the Brid­ge, about the first, 2d, 3d, or 4th. Strings; for the­rea­bout, is its cons­tant sta­tion. It stea­dies the Hand, and gives a Cer­tainty to the Grasp’. From this time onwards, por­traits of per­for­ming lute pla­yers always show the little fin­ger pla­ced eit­her on the sound­board, in front of or behind the brid­ge, or on the brid­ge itself (as in fig.11).

During the Renais­san­ce, chords were usually pla­yed with the thumb on the bass, pla­ying down­wards, and the first and second, or the first, second and third fin­gers, pla­ying upwards. For chords of more than four notes the follo­wing pro­ce­du­re was given by Le Roy and Besard: for five-note chords the thumb plays the bass down­wards, the third and fourth cour­ses are raked upwards by the first fin­ger, and the first and second cour­ses are pla­yed res­pec­ti­vely by the third and second fin­gers; six-note chords are pla­yed in a simi­lar way with the thumb pla­ying down­wards across both the sixth and fifth cour­ses. The upper note of two-part chords was gene­rally taken by the second fin­ger, alt­hough Robin­son pre­fe­rred the third.

A sin­gle dot under a chord of two or three notes gene­rally means that it is pla­yed upwards with the usual fin­gers, but wit­hout the thumb. Ger­le, howe­ver, used a dot under a chord to show that all the notes were to be pla­yed upwards with the first fin­ger, whi­le Juden­kü­nig said that in dan­ce music full chords may be stro­ked or strum­med with the thumb throug­hout. Neu­sid­ler also men­tio­ned the ‘thumb-stro­ke’. Robin­son, howe­ver, advo­ca­ted the third fin­ger for notes fart­hest from the thumb, the second for the next note, and the first for tho­se nea­rest. Besard was the first wri­ter to des­cri­be a new posi­tion for the thumb; his direc­tions are trans­la­ted as follows in Dowland’s book of 1610:

stretch out your Thom­be with all the for­ce you can, espe­cially if thy Thom­be be short, so that the other fin­gers may be carryed in the man­ner of a fist, and let the Thom­be be held hig­her than them, this in the begin­ning will be hard. Yet they which have a short Thom­be may imi­ta­te tho­se which stri­ke the strings with the Thom­be under the other fin­gers, which though it be not­hing so ele­gant, yet to them it will be more easie.

Dow­land him­self is said to have chan­ged to the ‘thumb-out’ posi­tion in mid-career (Beier, B1979), pre­su­mably to take advan­ta­ge of the con­se­quent grea­ter stretch, per­haps in con­nec­tion with the addi­tion of extra cour­ses. The increa­se in the num­ber of cour­ses was pro­bably also res­pon­si­ble for a gene­ral shift in the posi­tion and move­ment of the hand. Besard sug­ges­ted:

the first two fin­gers may be used in Dimi­nu­tions very well ins­teed of the Thom­be and the fore-fin­ger, if they be pla­ced with some Bases, so that the midd­le fin­ger be in pla­ce of the Thom­be, which Thom­be whilst it is occu­pied in stri­king at least the Bases, both the hands will be gra­ced and that unmanly motion of the Arme (which many can­not well avoi­de) shall be shun­ned. But if with the said Dimi­nu­tions the­re be not set Bases which are to be stop­ped, I will not coun­sell you to use the two first fin­gers, but rat­her the Thom­be and the fore-fin­ger: neit­her will I wish you to use the two fore-fin­gers if you be to pro­cee­de (that is to run­ne) into the fourth, fift or sixt string with Dimi­nu­tions set also with some parts.

Mar­kings com­pri­sing a pair of dots or small stro­kes under the note to indi­ca­te the use of the second fin­ger occur in many manus­cripts from the early 17th cen­tury (e.g. Vallet used the lat­ter mar­king). A sin­gle ver­ti­cal line or stro­ke under a note was an indi­ca­tion to use the thumb, to which grea­ter atten­tion was paid with the increa­sing num­ber of bass strings. Pic­ci­ni­ni des­cri­bed an apo­yan­do stro­ke:

The thumb, on which I do not appro­ve of a very long nail, must be emplo­yed in this man­ner, that every time you sound a string you must direct it [the thumb] towards the sound­board, so that it is crus­hed onto the string below, and it must be kept the­re until it has to be used again.

This type of stro­ke was men­tio­ned by other wri­ters and appears to have beco­me stan­dard prac­ti­ce during the Baro­que period. In fact, such a tech­ni­que is almost essen­tial when the thumb has to make rapid jumps among a num­ber of dia­pa­sons. If the thumb is held free, the­re is no point of refe­ren­ce from which each move­ment can be jud­ged accu­ra­tely.

In the second deca­de of the 17th cen­tury many new tech­ni­cal devi­ces began to appear. Bataille’s Airs de dif­fé­rents aut­heurs (iv, 1613) used a dot for a qua­si-ras­guea­do devi­ce in repea­ted chords (ex.1) that is des­cri­bed by Mer­sen­ne and beca­me extre­mely com­mon, espe­cially in pie­ces in sara­ban­de rhythm: the dot at the top of the chord stands for an upward stro­ke with the first fin­ger, whi­le the dot at the bot­tom stands for a down­ward stro­ke with the back of the same fin­ger (ex.1a). For this devi­ce, some­ti­mes called tirer et rabat­tre, later com­po­sers often dis­tin­guis­hed the second, down­ward-struck chord by dots next to the notes (ex.1b).

Italy was appa­rently the first country in which the slur was deve­lo­ped as part of nor­mal tech­ni­que ins­tead of being con­fi­ned to the execu­tion of gra­ces. Pie­tro Pao­li Melli (Inta­vo­la­tu­ra di liu­to attior­ba­to libro secon­do, 1614) des­cri­bed the action of the left hand, and pla­ced a liga­tu­re under pairs of notes to be slu­rred, a mar­king which was always used to indi­ca­te the slur. The­re seems to be no evi­den­ce that the slur was used in Fran­ce, England or Ger­many at this early date, but Mer­sen­ne des­cri­bed it in 1636.

Pic­ci­ni­ni intro­du­ced some indi­vi­dua­lis­tic traits into his pla­ying: alt­hough the use of the nails was depre­ca­ted by nearly all other wri­ters, Pic­ci­ni­ni said that they should be ‘a little long, in front of the flesh, but not much, and oval in sha­pe’. He pla­yed the rapid ‘grop­po that is made at the caden­ce’ with the first fin­ger alo­ne, stri­king upwards and down­wards with the tip of the nail. (This is simi­lar to the vihuela’s ‘dedi­llo’, which was usually pla­yed with short nails.) He also advo­ca­ted a chan­ge of tone colour by moving the right hand nea­rer or fart­her from the brid­ge. In Fran­ce an increa­sing num­ber of dif­fe­rent right-hand stro­kes were used. Mer­sen­ne gave the tra­di­tio­nal fin­ge­rings both for chords and sin­gle-note pas­sa­ges, and some new stro­kes which had evi­dently beco­me popu­lar by then. He des­cri­bed seve­ral ways of pla­ying chords, and a sys­tem of mar­king by which each met­hod could be dis­tin­guis­hed. Some chords were pla­yed down­wards with the thumb: others with all the notes pla­yed by the thumb except the top one which was pla­yed by the first fin­ger; others with the thumb pla­ying the sin­gle bass note whi­le the first fin­ger raked the rest of the notes upwards. Unfor­tu­na­tely the­se detai­led nota­tions seem not to have been adop­ted in other sur­vi­ving prin­ted and manus­cript sour­ces. Nevert­he­less many of the­se devi­ces beca­me part of the French Baro­que sty­le. In volu­mes such as Denis Gaultier’s Piè­ces de luth (1666), Denis and Enne­mond Gaultier’s Livre de tabla­tu­re des piè­ces de luth (c1672) and Jac­ques Gallot’s Piè­ces de luth (1681), mar­kings are given for arpeg­gia­ting or ‘brea­king’ chords. Some wri­ters des­cri­bed the ‘slip­ping’ of the first fin­ger across two notes on adja­cent strings to reali­ze a short mor­dent, usually at a caden­ce; this cha­rac­te­ris­tic devi­ce, which was used well into the 18th cen­tury, was shown by three dif­fe­rent mar­kings (ex.2).

Many of the­se tech­ni­ques were care­fully des­cri­bed in English lute books such as the Mary Bur­well Lute Tutor (c1660–72, GB-Lam) and in Mace’s Musick’s Monu­ment. The tech­ni­ques were pas­sed on to the Ger­man school; a simi­lar variety of stro­kes is des­cri­bed by Baron who also men­tio­ned a chan­ge of right-hand posi­tion for tone colour. As in other coun­tries, Ger­man sour­ces vary greatly in the extent to which tech­ni­que marks and left-hand fin­ge­rings were added to the tabla­tu­re, often reflec­ting the level of attain­ment of the per­son for whom they were writ­ten.

The deve­lop­ment of pla­ying tech­ni­que was thus clo­sely rela­ted to the con­ti­nual pro­cess of exten­ding the resour­ces of the ins­tru­ment. Moreo­ver, each tech­ni­que pro­du­ces par­ti­cu­lar qua­li­ties sui­ted to its own time, and the modern lute­nist must know this in order to do jus­ti­ce to the music. Most ‘tech­ni­cal’ indi­ca­tions, such as vibra­to or stac­ca­to (see §7 below), or the sprea­ding of chords (indi­ca­ted by obli­que lines sepa­ra­ting the notes of a chord; see §8(iii)), come under the gene­ral hea­ding of ‘gra­ces’ (Fr. agré­ments; Ger. Manie­ren), which term adum­bra­tes most aspects of per­for­man­ce as well as orna­men­ta­tion in trea­ti­ses, inclu­ding pla­ying loudly and softly or with rhe­to­ri­cal intent.

7. Ornamentation.

The use of what in modern terms would be called trills, mor­dents, appog­gia­tu­ras and vibra­to has evi­dently always been an inte­gral part of the per­for­man­ce of lute music. The fact that in the Renais­san­ce period orna­ment signs are fre­quently not inclu­ded in prin­ted books or manus­cripts and are writ­ten about com­pa­ra­ti­vely rarely in early tutors may be due to seve­ral cau­ses; pro­bably the most impor­tant was that the­re was a living tra­di­tion that was con­si­de­red unne­ces­sary to men­tion or nota­te. Anot­her reason may have been that cited by Mer­sen­ne, namely that prin­ters lac­ked the requi­si­te signs in their equip­ment. The­se orna­ments never acqui­red a stan­dar­di­zed nomen­cla­tu­re or sys­tem of signs, alt­hough some degree of con­for­mity deve­lo­ped towards the end of the Baro­que period.

In the Capi­ro­la Lute­book (c1517, US-Cn), the ear­liest known sour­ce of infor­ma­tion, two signs are used: one shows figu­res nota­ted with red dots; the other con­sists of two red dots pla­ced over the figu­re. Of the first sign it is said only that the fin­ger on the lower fret is held firm and anot­her fin­ger is used to ‘tre­mo­li­ze’ on or from the fret abo­ve. The second sign is said to indi­ca­te that the note is ‘tre­mo­li­zed’ with a sin­gle fin­ger; it pro­bably repre­sents a mor­dent.

More pre­ci­se infor­ma­tion was given by Pie­tro Pao­lo Borrono in the second prin­ting (Milan, 1548) of the Inta­vo­la­tu­ra di lau­to which gives appog­gia­tu­ras with both notes care­fully indi­ca­ted by sign. Only the appog­gia­tu­ra from abo­ve is men­tio­ned in the direc­tions, which also say that it is to be pla­yed on the beat.

Rudolf Wys­sen­bach prin­ted a trans­crip­tion in Ger­man tabla­tu­re (Zürich, 1550) of part of the con­tents of the Fran­ces­co-Borrono book of 1546; half cir­cles are said to indi­ca­te mor­dan­ten, but no furt­her expla­na­tion is given. The word mor­dan­ten appears to have been used in Ger­man as a gene­ral term for orna­ments inclu­ding the appog­gia­tu­ra rat­her than as a spe­ci­fic term for any one type of orna­ment. It occurs in Mar­tin Agricola’s Musi­ca ins­tru­men­ta­lis deudsch (1529) and was still used by Matt­häus Wais­sel in his Lau­ten­buch darinn von der Tabu­la­tur und Appli­ca­tion der Lau­ten (1592). Waissel’s remark that the fin­gers are put ‘a little later on the let­ters and moved up and down two or three times’ indi­ca­tes (in agree­ment with Borrono) that the orna­ment came on or after the beat and not befo­re.

No infor­ma­tion appears to have sur­vi­ved con­cer­ning orna­men­ta­tion of French lute music befo­re Besard, who made the follo­wing remark:

You should have some rules for the sweet relis­hes and sha­kes if they could be expres­sed here, as they are on the LUTE: but seeing they can­not by speech or wri­ting be expres­sed, thou wert best to imi­ta­te some cun­ning pla­yer.

Vallet used two signs: a com­ma, sig­nif­ying a fall from abo­ve the main note (upper appog­gia­tu­ra), and a sin­gle cross, sig­nif­ying the same thing repea­ted seve­ral times, i.e. a trill. In his Regia pie­tas (1620) Vallet des­cri­bed what is in effect a vibra­to, indi­ca­ted by a dou­ble cross.

Mer­sen­ne gave the most com­ple­te expo­si­tion of the art of orna­men­ta­tion of the period. Exclu­ding minor variants (such as whet­her a tone or semi­to­ne is invol­ved), seven orna­ments may be tallied: the trem­ble­ment (trill); the accent plain­tif (appog­gia­tu­ra from below, equal in dura­tion to half the value of the main note); the mar­te­le­ment or sou­pir (mor­dent); the verre cas­sé (vibra­to, which Mer­sen­ne said was not much used in his time, alt­hough it was very popu­lar in the past; in his opi­nion, howe­ver, it would be as bad a fault to omit it alto­get­her as to use it to excess); the bat­te­ment (long trill, more sui­ta­ble to the vio­lin, he said, than to the lute); a com­bi­na­tion (for which no name is given) of appog­gia­tu­ra from below with trill from abo­ve; and a mor­dent ending with verre cas­sé. He gave a sign to indi­ca­te each of the seven types, but remar­ked that in French music the small com­ma was gene­rally used to ‘express all sorts’.

In Italy, Kaps­per­ger (Libro pri­mo d’intavolatura di chi­ta­rro­ne, 1604) pla­ced two dots abo­ve many notes to indi­ca­te the tri­llo, and also added a sign (an obli­que stro­ke with a dot on eit­her side) below cer­tain chords to show that they were to be arpeg­gia­ted. Melli mar­ked the notes on which a ‘tre­mo­lo’ should be per­for­med, but gave no expla­na­tion of the mea­ning of the word, though he des­cri­bed a met­hod of per­for­ming an appog­gia­tu­ra from below by sli­ding the auxi­liary to the main note with a sin­gle fin­ger. This is indi­ca­ted by a liga­tu­re abo­ve the two notes and appears to be uni­que in this period. Pic­ci­ni­ni, howe­ver, gave detai­led des­crip­tions of the trill, the mor­dent and the vibra­to, which he called the first, second and third tre­mo­lo, but he did not inclu­de signs for them in the tabla­tu­re.

Early English manus­cript sour­ces show no orna­ment signs, but all the books copied by Matt­hew Hol­mes (c1580–1610, GB-Cu) con­tain them, alt­hough their pla­cing is often curious. At least 17 other manus­cripts also have signs, and William Barley’s A Newe Boo­ke of Tabli­tu­re (1596) inclu­des the dou­ble cross, but with no expla­na­tion of its mea­ning. The only English book of this period con­tai­ning infor­ma­tion on the sub­ject is Robinson’s The Schoo­le of Music­ke (1603). He gave no signs nor any indi­ca­tion of whe­re the gra­ces should be pla­ced, but he des­cri­bed three that could be used: the relish (per­haps an appog­gia­tu­ra from abo­ve, or a trill); the fall (an appog­gia­tu­ra from below); and a fall with a relish (pos­sibly the same as Mersenne’s com­bi­na­tion of lower appog­gia­tu­ra and upper trill). Robin­son said of the relish:

The lon­ger the time of a sin­gle stro­ke … the more need it hath of a relish, for a relish will help, both to gra­ce it, and also it helps to con­ti­nue the sound of the note his full time: but in a quic­ke time a little touch or jer­ke will ser­ve, and that only with the most stron­gest fin­ger.

The variety of gra­ces in use around 1625 is indi­ca­ted in Table 2, taken from the Mar­ga­ret Board Lute­book (GB-Lam, f.32). Gene­rally, howe­ver, the lack of stan­dar­di­za­tion in signs and the absen­ce of any indi­ca­tion of their mea­ning as used by dif­fe­rent scri­bes poses a for­mi­da­ble pro­blem in inter­pre­ta­tion, and it is pos­si­ble here only to offer some sug­ges­tions based on a study of their con­text in all the avai­la­ble mate­rial. Table 3 shows the signs most gene­rally found in English manus­cript sour­ces. Sign (a) is often the only sign in a manus­cript, and, like the French com­ma, can be taken ‘to express all sorts’. If it appears in com­pany with other signs it seems to sig­nify an orna­ment from abo­ve the main note, per­haps an appog­gia­tu­ra or trill. Sign (b) indi­ca­tes an appog­gia­tu­ra from below, a mor­dent, or a sli­de (the orna­ment that comes up to the main note from a minor or major 3rd below). Sign (c) appears in the Sam­pson Lute­book (GB-Lam); its pos­si­ble inter­pre­ta­tion as a sli­de on a major 3rd is dis­cus­sed below. Sign (d) indi­ca­tes an appog­gia­tu­ra from below, in the Sam­pson Lute­book; this is sug­ges­ted by the fact that the sign appears befo­re a note which is follo­wed by (a), pre­su­mably indi­ca­ting Robinson’s ‘fall with a relish’. Sign (e) is used simi­larly (US-Ws 1610.1). Signs (f) and (g) (the lat­ter from GB-Lbl Add.38539) indi­ca­te a mor­dent, appog­gia­tu­ra from below or a sli­de. Sign (h) occurs in a limi­ted num­ber of pie­ces in GB-Lbl Add.38539, always on a note imme­dia­tely pre­ce­ded by the note abo­ve, and often in fairly fast runs. This may be the ‘little touch or jer­ke’ men­tio­ned by Robin­son, or pos­sibly an inver­ted mor­dent. Alt­hough the lat­ter was clearly des­cri­bed in Spain from the time of Tomás de San­ta María (in Arte de tañer fan­ta­sía assi para tecla como para vihue­la, 1565) to Pablo Nas­sa­re (Escue­la musi­ca, 1724), in Italy by Giro­la­mo Diru­ta (Il transil­vano, 1593) and in Ger­many by Prae­to­rius (Syn­tag­ma musi­cum, iii, 2/1619), the­re is no men­tion of it in any English sour­ce. It would, howe­ver, fit into the pas­sa­ges in which the sign is used. Signs (i), (j) and (k) indi­ca­te a fall with a relish. In com­po­si­tions in John Dowland’s hand, (c), which appears on both open and stop­ped notes, pre­su­mably indi­ca­tes an upper appog­gia­tu­ra or trill; (f), which appears on stop­ped notes only, may indi­ca­te an appog­gia­tu­ra from below; and (b), which appears on open notes only, may indi­ca­te a trill. Howe­ver, the­se inter­pre­ta­tions are open to ques­tion owing to a mar­ked lack of con­sis­tency in the appli­ca­tion of gra­cing, and in its nota­tion. Many sour­ces have few, if any, gra­ce marks, and in the final analy­sis musi­cal intui­tion has to be the arbi­ter. (The inter­pre­ta­tion of orna­ment signs in English lute music is furt­her addres­sed, with somew­hat dif­fe­ring results, in stu­dies by Bue­tens and Shep­herd.)

Fas­hion in orna­men­ta­tion may have varied from country to country; English pla­yers of the first two deca­des of the 17th cen­tury per­haps gra­ced their music to a grea­ter extent than tho­se in any other part of Euro­pe. A Fan­ta­sie by Dow­land (GB-Lbl Add. 38539, f.14v; ex.3), with nine orna­ments in the spa­ce of five bars, shows an extre­me of English prac­ti­ce.

No exact line of demar­ca­tion can be drawn bet­ween Renais­san­ce and Baro­que orna­men­ta­tion. Most gra­ces used in the ear­lier period con­ti­nued in favour, but a few more ela­bo­ra­te com­bi­na­tions appea­red. From Mersenne’s time onwards, some French manus­cripts have a lar­ge variety of signs: the com­ma, ‘’ and ‘’ for mar­te­le­ments, somet­hing like an ordi­nary mor­dent sign pla­ced under a note, and, to indi­ca­te the appog­gia­tu­ra from below, a bow-like sign pla­ced beneath the tabla­tu­re let­ter, very like Mace’s sign for a slur. Dou­ble sha­kes or appog­gia­tu­ras began to appear. The étouf­fe­ment (Mace’s ‘tut’) is also men­tio­ned in some sour­ces, and the sign ‘’ is used. Mace’s Musick’s Monu­ment, in many ways the most tho­rough study of the French lute, inclu­des (pp.101ff) a list of orna­ments, which are sum­ma­ri­zed in Table 4. He also wro­te of loud and soft play and the use of the pau­se (indi­ca­ted by a small fer­ma­ta sign) as addi­tio­nal gra­ces to be obser­ved.

In Denis Gaultier’s Piè­ces de luth (1666) less ela­bo­ra­tion is found. The two orna­ments given are indi­ca­ted by the com­ma and the slur and are equi­va­lent to Mace’s back-fall and fore-fall. In Livre de tabla­tu­re des piè­ces de luth by Denis and Enne­mond Gaul­tier (c1672) the expla­na­tion of the com­ma shows that the num­ber of falls should be increa­sed accor­ding to the length of the note. Accor­ding to Mary Burwell’s tea­cher, howe­ver, Denis Gaul­tier ‘would have no sha­ke at all’. Undoub­tedly per­so­nal tas­te pla­yed a part in orna­men­ta­tion as in all other aspects of per­for­man­ce. Three orna­ment signs are lis­ted by Gallot: trem­ble­ment, or trill, indi­ca­ted by a small com­ma after the tabla­tu­re let­ter; mar­te­le­ment, or mor­dent, indi­ca­ted by ‘’; chout­te, or tom­bé, an appog­gia­tu­ra from below, indi­ca­ted by an inver­ted ‘’ befo­re the let­ter. The rhyth­mi­cal brea­king of chords, a uni­ver­sal fea­tu­re of the French lute sty­le (see §8(iii) below, esp. ex.6), was expli­citly indi­ca­ted by obli­que lines bet­ween chord mem­bers. The exis­ten­ce of anot­her expli­cit nota­tion, a ver­ti­cal line con­nec­ting non-adja­cent tabla­tu­re let­ters, to indi­ca­te that the notes are to be struck toget­her, sug­gests that a cer­tain degree of sprea­ding was in fact nor­mal.

Ger­man Baro­que lute­nists at first cons­ciously main­tai­ned the tra­di­tion of the Pari­sian lut­his­tes, using many of the French orna­ment signs, which they clas­sed under the gene­ral hea­ding of Manie­ren (equi­va­lent to agré­ments or ‘gra­ces’) along with other tech­ni­cal or per­for­man­ce indi­ca­tions. The Bres­lau lute­nist, Esaias Reus­ner (ii), who was coached by an unk­nown French lute­nist in Paris in the 1650s, used a cross, a com­ma and a ‘fer­ma­ta’ sign (Deli­tiae tes­tu­di­nis, 1667 and Neue Lau­ten-Früch­te, 1676) but did not explain their mea­ning. The con­text sug­gests that the com­ma indi­ca­tes a trill and the cross a mor­dent, whi­le the fer­ma­ta pro­bably repre­sents a pau­se, as it does for his English con­tem­po­rary, Mace. Reus­ner indi­ca­ted the appog­gia­tu­ra from below by a bow under the let­ter. Le Sage de Richée (Cabi­net der Lau­ten) gave, toget­her with other infor­ma­tion about per­for­ming prac­ti­ce, three orna­ments: the trill indi­ca­ted by a com­ma; the appog­gia­tu­ra from abo­ve, which he called Abzug; and the appog­gia­tu­ra from below (Fall). Both appog­gia­tu­ras are writ­ten out with a bow under the pairs of let­ters (the expla­na­tions are somew­hat ambi­guous). Radolt (Vien­na, 1701) pro­vi­ded an exhaus­ti­ve list of Manie­ren citing Fra­nçois Dufaut’s exam­ple. Hin­ter­leith­ner (Vien­na, 1699) explai­ned that the Abzug (which he called Abriss) divi­des the orna­men­ted note’s dura­tion equally. Trills are only pla­yed on dot­ted notes; on shor­ter notes they are abbre­via­ted to an Abriss. Radolt stres­sed that the trill always begins on the upper note. Baron (Nurem­berg, 1727) used the same signs as Radolt for the appog­gia­tu­ra from abo­ve (Abziehen) and for the trill (per­for­med from the upper note, and gra­dually increa­sing in speed), but in addi­tion des­cri­bed two forms of vibra­to (Bebung): one (on the hig­her strings) per­for­med with the thumb relea­sed from the back of the neck, the other with the thumb held firm. He indi­ca­ted them with a dou­ble and slan­ted cross res­pec­ti­vely. Baron added that the orna­ments he men­tio­ned were not the only ones that could be used, as many more could be added with the use of skill and tas­te: ‘Every pla­yer must jud­ge for him­self what sort of affect he wis­hes to express with this or that orna­ment’. He also stres­sed the dif­fe­ren­ce bet­ween solo per­for­man­ce, whe­re a pla­yer could use more orna­men­ta­tion and ruba­to, and ensem­ble pla­ying, whe­re each player’s per­for­ming met­hod had to be known in advan­ce and accom­mo­da­ted for the sake of good ensem­ble. For fas­ter music, Baron remar­ked that ‘the best Manier is not­hing more than neat­ness and cla­rity, and if someo­ne wan­ted to make many other addi­tions it would be as ridicu­lous as cha­sing rab­bits with snails and crabs’.

Sil­vius Leo­pold Weiss’s nota­tio­nal prac­ti­ce was remar­kably con­sis­tent in his nume­rous auto­graph manus­cripts. As was com­mon in the period, he ten­ded to use more orna­men­ta­tion in slow move­ments, and the orna­men­tal notes are seam­lessly inte­gra­ted into the music, occa­sio­nally (espe­cially the Ein­fall) being writ­ten out expli­citly in the tabla­tu­re, often using sepa­ra­te strings for the orna­men­tal and main notes, rat­her than being indi­ca­ted by signs. This ‘two-string appog­gia­tu­ra’ (ex.4) had been in use sin­ce the days of the Pari­sian lut­his­tes, but unli­ke them Weiss fre­quently used it in an unam­bi­guously melo­dic con­text. He used the nor­mal com­ma sign for an Abzug or Tri­ller, some­ti­mes exten­ded by repe­ti­tion, and the bow under a let­ter for an appog­gia­tu­ra from below; some­ti­mes, espe­cially at a caden­ce, this sign extends back­wards towards the pre­vious note, even across a bar­li­ne, loo­king somew­hat like a lega­to slur (ex.5). The mor­dent is mar­ked by a sin­gle cross and Bebung (vibra­to, rarely used by Weiss) by a short wavy line abo­ve and to the right of the let­ter.

The­re is no sur­vi­ving trea­ti­se or table of orna­ments by Weiss alt­hough he was much in demand as a tea­cher. Whe­reas he was follo­wing ear­lier prac­ti­ce in not using signs to dis­tin­guish the Abzug and Tri­ller, nor the short and long forms of mor­dent and trill, later pla­yers, who­se exten­si­ve reper­tory of signs was pos­sibly influen­ced by the prac­ti­ce of their key­board-pla­ying con­tem­po­ra­ries, beca­me more expli­cit in their nota­tion. A manus­cript from Bay­reuth (c1750, D-Ngm M274) con­tains two tables of ‘Zei­chen der Lau­ten Manie­ren’ (‘signs for lute gra­ces’) attri­bu­ta­ble to Weiss’s one-time pupil, Adam Falc­ken­ha­gen. The signs the­rein corres­pond with Falckenhagen’s prin­ted works and with the tabla­tu­re ver­sion of J.S. Bach’s Lute Sui­te in G minor bwv995, which was pro­bably inta­bu­la­ted by Falc­ken­ha­gen. Signs which seem to be intro­du­ced in the­se tables for the first time inclu­de one for ‘gebro­che­ner Bass’ (‘bro­ken bass’; the fun­da­men­tal and octa­ve strings of a bass cour­se being rhyth­mi­cally sepa­ra­ted), a sign for stac­ca­to or dam­ped (‘ges­tos­sen’) chords, and a sign for the full turn (with a writ­ten-out rea­li­za­tion equi­va­lent to C.P.E. Bach’s gesch­nell­te Dop­pels­chlag). A clo­sely rela­ted table was prin­ted by J.C. Beyer with his lute arran­ge­ments of Herrn Prof. Gellerts Oden und Lie­der (1760). The prin­ci­pal orna­ment signs used or explai­ned by Le Sage de Richée, Hin­ter­leith­ner, Radolt, Baron, Weiss, Falc­ken­ha­gen and Beyer are sum­ma­ri­zed in Table 5.

From the early years of the 16th cen­tury to the end of the 18th, the use of gra­ces was an inte­gral part of per­for­ming prac­ti­ce on the lute as it was on the har­psi­chord. Becau­se of its lack of sus­tai­ning power (com­pa­red with bowed ins­tru­ments) the­se devi­ces were essen­tial, espe­cially in slo­wer music. Finally the neces­sity pro­mo­ted the fas­hion and com­po­sers expec­ted gra­ces to be added, whet­her or not they were actually indi­ca­ted, sin­ce they were an essen­tial fea­tu­re of lute sty­le.

During the 17th and 18th cen­tu­ries the art of orna­men­ta­tion recei­ved care­ful atten­tion in nume­rous trea­ti­ses on sin­ging and on pla­ying various ins­tru­ments, and also in com­po­sers’ pre­fa­ces to their works: this valua­ble infor­ma­tion is often appli­ca­ble to the lute as well as to the par­ti­cu­lar sub­ject under con­si­de­ra­tion (see Orna­ments).

8. Repertory.

From the 1270s, when Jehan de Meung in Le roman de la rose men­tio­ned ‘qui­ta­rres e leüz’, the pre­sen­ce of the lute in wes­tern Euro­pe is evi­dent in lite­rary sour­ces, court records and inven­to­ries. The Duke of Orléans is said to have had in his ser­vi­ce in 1396 ‘un joueur de viè­le et de luc’ called Hen­ri de Ganiè­re. The names of a few pla­yers from other parts of Euro­pe have also sur­vi­ved, such as a cer­tain Obrecht in Bas­le in 1363, and the brot­hers Dra­yer, mins­trels at Meche­len from 1371 to 1374. During the 14th cen­tury, repre­sen­ta­tions of the lute in dra­wings, pain­tings and scul­ptu­re beca­me com­mon, often in com­bi­na­tion with other ins­tru­ments, some­ti­mes accom­pan­ying one or more voi­ces.

Extant 15th-cen­tury records men­tion sums of money paid to lute pla­yers in ser­vi­ce at the French court. In 1491 for exam­ple, Antoi­ne Her, a lute pla­yer of the cham­ber royal, recei­ved a monthly sti­pend of 10 livres and 10 sols. The great esteem in which vir­tuo­sos were held is evi­dent in the case of Pie­tro­bono, who ser­ved the Este family at the court of Ferra­ra from about 1440 until his death in 1497. Other courts com­pe­ted for his ser­vi­ces; he was widely tra­ve­lled, beca­me a rich man and was cele­bra­ted by poets and wri­ters of the time (inclu­ding Tin­cto­ris). Sur­vi­ving docu­ments imply that he accom­pa­nied him­self in sin­ging and that he was asso­cia­ted with anot­her pla­yer who was lis­ted as a ‘teno­ris­ta’ – pos­sibly anot­her lute pla­yer or a viol pla­yer who, in eit­her case, would have sup­plied a ‘tenor’ against which Pie­tro­bono would have impro­vi­sed. He seems to exem­plify an age in which Ita­lian lute pla­yers were pas­sing from a sty­le that had been mainly impro­vi­sa­tory to one in which, as Tin­cto­ris sug­ges­ted, a full trai­ning in the tech­ni­que of con­tra­pun­tal wri­ting or pla­ying was essen­tial.

This deve­lop­ment was asso­cia­ted with the chan­ge from pla­ying the lute with a plec­trum to using the right-hand fin­gers. Whe­reas pre­viously the lute had been a melo­dic ins­tru­ment, it could now be used for polyp­hony. This in turn soon led to the inven­tion of spe­cial forms of nota­tion to over­co­me the par­ti­cu­lar pro­blems invol­ved in trans­mit­ting the music to the writ­ten or prin­ted page. Exam­ples of Ger­man, French and Ita­lian tabla­tu­res from the end of the 15th cen­tury have come to light, but the­se frag­ments reveal little about the early reper­tory. In addi­tion, the­re are in the Sego­via Cat­he­dral manus­cript some ins­tru­men­tal duos with ela­bo­ra­te divi­sions by Tin­cto­ris, Agri­co­la and others that well suit the lute and clearly reflect the impro­vi­sa­tio­nal demands on pla­yers of the time; one of the­se in par­ti­cu­lar, a set­ting of Hay­ne van Ghizeghem’s De tous biens plai­ne, ascri­bed to Roell­rin, also appears in a Ger­man manus­cript (PL-Wu Mf.20161) and is unli­kely to have been pla­ya­ble on any other con­tem­po­rary ins­tru­ment. Some of the com­po­si­tions in the ear­liest prin­ted sour­ces show a simi­lar sty­le.

A com­mon thread that runs throug­hout the his­tory of lute pla­ying is the impro­vi­sa­tory skill of the great per­for­mers. For this reason, most of the reper­tory was pro­bably never writ­ten down. Lute pla­ying was pas­sed on by indi­vi­dual tui­tion, and many lute manus­cripts were com­pi­led by tea­chers for their pupils, and sup­ple­men­ted (some­ti­mes somew­hat inex­pertly) from memory by the pupils. The­se cir­cums­tan­ces, com­bi­ned with the irre­co­ve­ra­ble loss of a great many sour­ces, account for the fact that much lute music in manus­cript carries no composer’s name, and, as much in the Baro­que period as in the Renais­san­ce, the­re is fre­quently diver­gen­ce bet­ween ver­sions of the same pie­ce in dif­fe­rent sour­ces, espe­cially in mat­ters con­cer­ning per­for­man­ce. For a fuller dis­cus­sion of lute sour­ces, with illus­tra­tions, see Sour­ces of lute music.

 

(i) Italy.

The ear­liest sur­vi­ving sig­ni­fi­cant Ita­lian lute sour­ce is a heart-sha­ped manus­cript (I-PESo 1144) par­tially copied in the last deca­des of the 15th cen­tury and pos­sibly of Vene­tian ori­gin. Unu­sually, it is nota­ted in a rudi­men­tary form of French lute tabla­tu­re (the rhythm-signs and spo­ra­dic barring being appa­rently based on the posi­tion of the tac­tus rat­her than on note dura­tions) using let­ter-cip­hers rat­her than num­bers. This early layer of the manus­cript, which inclu­des one pie­ce for seven-cour­se lute, con­tains a few song arran­ge­ments (inclu­ding the ubi­qui­tous De tous biens plai­ne), a num­ber of ricer­ca­res in impro­vi­sa­tio­nal sty­le, and a sin­gle bas­sa­dan­za, a set­ting of the well-known bas­se dan­se tenor La Spag­na. From the first deca­de of the 16th cen­tury the Vene­tian prin­ting press of Petruc­ci dis­tri­bu­ted music by the early lute­nist-com­po­sers of the Ita­lian school, who­se influen­ce was felt throug­hout Euro­pe for the enti­re 16th cen­tury. Alt­hough Mar­co Dall’Aquila obtai­ned a Vene­tian pri­vi­le­ge to print lute music in 1505, no such publi­ca­tions by him have sur­vi­ved. Petruc­ci publis­hed six volu­mes of lute tabla­tu­re bet­ween 1507 and 1511. The first two books, entitled Inta­bu­la­tu­ra de lau­to (1507), con­tain works by Spi­na­cino, mainly for solo lute but the­re are also a few duets. The­re are 25 pie­ces called ‘recer­ca­re’ but most of the pie­ces are inta­bu­la­tions of Fle­mish chan­sons (from the 1490s) ori­gi­nally for voi­ces. The Inta­bu­la­tu­ra de lau­to, libro ter­tio (1508), devo­ted to music by Gian Maria Hebreo, is now lost; the Libro quar­to by Dal­za (1508) con­tains dan­ces and a few inta­bu­la­tions of frot­to­las by con­tem­po­rary Ita­lians such as Trom­bon­cino. The­se books inclu­de rudi­men­tary ins­truc­tions for tabla­tu­re reading and right-hand tech­ni­que. Songs for solo voi­ce and lute appea­red in the Teno­ri e con­tra­bas­si inta­bu­la­ti col sopran in can­to figu­ra­to per can­tar e sonar col lau­to (Libro pri­mo, 1509; Libro secun­do, 1511), in which the lute­nist Fran­cis­cus Bos­si­nen­sis inta­bu­la­ted the lower parts of frot­to­las who­se vocal ori­gi­nals had already been prin­ted by Petruc­ci. The first book con­tains 70 such com­po­si­tions, the second 56; each con­tains 20 or more ricer­ca­res as well. The six Petruc­ci volu­mes form a subs­tan­tial collec­tion of first-rate music in what must have been a well-esta­blis­hed tra­di­tion of lute wri­ting. The types of com­po­si­tion they con­tain evi­dently reflect the unw­rit­ten pro­ce­du­res of late 15th-cen­tury lute pla­ying. The ‘first pha­se’ of Ita­lian prin­ted books for lute inclu­ded one more collec­tion of frot­to­las with voi­ce part and tabla­tu­re, by Trom­bon­cino and Mar­chet­to Cara. The sole extant copy is unda­ted, but it cer­tainly appea­red in the 1520s.

Among the ear­liest exam­ples of Ita­lian lute music are two pie­ces in a Bolog­na manus­cript (after 1484, I-Bu 596). The first page gives an expla­na­tion of the tabla­tu­re hea­ded ‘La mano ala vio­la’. The­re has been some dis­cus­sion about the mea­ning of ‘vio­la’ in this ins­tan­ce but, sin­ce the dis­co­very of Fran­ces­co Cano­va da Milano’s Inta­vo­la­tu­ra de vio­la o vero lau­to (Naples, 1536/R), it is clear that it refers to the flat-bac­ked, wais­ted ins­tru­ment which clo­sely resem­bles the Spa­nish vihue­la and which was con­si­de­red sui­ta­ble for pla­ying lute music. The form of tabla­tu­re used in this case is the rare ‘Inta­vo­la­tu­ra alla Napo­li­ta­na’ in which the second volu­me of Francesco’s book is prin­ted and which is explai­ned in Miche­le Carrara’s Rego­la fer­ma e vera (Rome, 1585). In appea­ran­ce it resem­bles Ita­lian tabla­tu­re but it is the rever­se way up, with the figu­res for the lowest cour­se lying on the bot­tom line of the staff. The figu­re 1 is used throug­hout for the open cour­se.

Few con­tem­po­rary manus­cripts sur­vi­ve, but two are of spe­cial impor­tan­ce, both of Vene­tian pro­ve­nan­ce. The ear­lier (F-Pn Rés.Vmd 27) dates from the first deca­de of the 16th cen­tury, and, like the ear­lier Pesa­ro manus­cript, the tabla­tu­re for the most part omits bar-lines and rhythm-signs. It com­pri­ses two sec­tions, the first of which con­tains 25 ricer­ca­res, dan­ces and frot­to­las for solo lute; a ricer­ca­re and the bas­sa­dan­za on La Spag­na are also found in the Pesa­ro manus­cript. The second sec­tion con­tains lute accom­pa­ni­ments to 89 frot­to­las wit­hout the vocal melody. The other manus­cript, the Capi­ro­la Lute­book (c1517, US-Cn), beau­ti­fully writ­ten and ador­ned with dra­wings by a pupil expressly to ensu­re its pre­ser­va­tion, inclu­des ins­truc­tions for pla­ying and the use of orna­men­ta­tion (see §7 abo­ve). The com­po­ser, Vin­cen­zo Capi­ro­la (b 1474; d after 1548), was clearly the outs­tan­ding figu­re of the ear­liest period of writ­ten lute music.

The ack­now­led­ged lea­der of the follo­wing gene­ra­tion, and one of the most famous lute­nists of any age, was Fran­ces­co Cano­va da Milano. He was already famous for his remar­ka­ble skill at impro­vi­sa­tion (his con­tem­po­ra­ries often refe­rred to him as ‘Il divino’) when his first works were publis­hed: Inta­bo­la­tu­ra di liu­to (Veni­ce, 1536), and the abo­ve-men­tio­ned Inta­vo­la­tu­ra de vio­la o vero lau­to. Some 120 to 150 of his com­po­si­tions are known today; many con­ti­nued to appear in print until late in the cen­tury and also appea­red in manus­cript collec­tions in seve­ral coun­tries besi­des Italy. Francesco’s lute music con­sists chiefly of pie­ces entitled ricer­ca­re or fan­ta­sia. He expan­ded the sco­pe of the qua­si-impro­vi­sa­tory ricer­ca­re of the older gene­ra­tion of com­po­sers, often making grea­ter use of sequen­ce, imi­ta­tion and repe­ti­tion, and some­ti­mes wri­ting in the strictly con­tra­pun­tal sty­le that beca­me cha­rac­te­ris­tic of the ricer­ca­re during and after the lat­ter part of the 16th cen­tury. The­re are also many inta­bu­la­tions of chan­sons and other vocal works, most of which were publis­hed after Francesco’s death. (For a modern edi­tion of Francesco’s lute works see The Lute Music of Fran­ces­co Cano­va da Milano (1497–1543), ed. A.J. Ness, HPM, iii–iv, 1970.)

From 1536 onwards, publis­hers, clearly exploi­ting a gro­wing level of demand from dilet­tan­te pla­yers, fre­quently issued lute music in books devo­ted to more than one composer’s music. Five dis­tin­guis­hed lute­nist-com­po­sers are repre­sen­ted in the Inta­bo­la­tu­ra de leu­to di diver­si auto­ri publis­hed by Cas­ti­glio­ne (Milan, 1536); as well as fan­ta­sias by Fran­ces­co him­self, the­re are seve­ral of com­pa­ra­ble qua­lity by Mar­co Dall’Aquila, Gio­van­ni Gia­co­po Albu­zio and Alber­to da Ripa, as well as dan­ces by Pie­tro Pau­lo Borrono.

Mar­co Dall’Aquila is the most impor­tant figu­re imme­dia­tely pre­ce­ding Fran­ces­co. A num­ber of his works were prin­ted, but most, inclu­ding seve­ral which may ori­gi­na­te from a lost print, are collec­ted in a Munich manus­cript (D-Mbs 266). The cha­llen­ge of marrying a strictly imi­ta­ti­ve com­po­si­tio­nal sty­le to the tech­ni­cal resour­ces of the lute was also taken up by Alber­to da Ripa (works ed. J.-M. Vac­ca­ro, CM, Cor­pus des lut­his­tes fra­nçais, 1972–5), who­se fan­ta­sias, often of con­si­de­ra­ble length, furt­her add a telling use of expres­si­ve dis­so­nan­ce. Borrono seems to have spe­cia­li­zed in dan­ce music, alt­hough he also com­po­sed fan­ta­sias. His exce­llent dan­ces are usually arran­ged into sui­te-like grou­pings of three or more pie­ces, some­ti­mes with a con­clu­ding toc­ca­ta.

Borrono publis­hed seve­ral collec­tions of his own works and tho­se of Fran­ces­co from 1546 onwards. In that year a lar­ge num­ber of publi­ca­tions appea­red con­tai­ning works by minor com­po­sers such as Giu­lio Abon­dan­te, Mel­chio­re de Bar­be­riis, Gio­van­ni Maria da Cre­ma, Marc’Antonio Pifa­ro, Anto­nio Rot­ta and Fran­ces­co Vin­de­lla. Along­si­de idio­ma­tic dan­ces, fan­ta­sias and ricer­ca­res appears an almost equal num­ber of arran­ge­ments or ‘inta­bu­la­tions’ of ensem­ble music, usually ori­gi­nally writ­ten for voi­ces but occa­sio­nally of ins­tru­men­tal music by Julio Seg­ni and others. Often the­se are hard to dis­tin­guish from ori­gi­nal lute com­po­si­tions, and recent research has begun to reveal that extracts of pre­viously com­po­sed works were some­ti­mes incor­po­ra­ted wit­hout ack­now­led­ge­ment into lute ricer­ca­res by many lute­nists of the period, inclu­ding Fran­ces­co him­self.

Among the great num­ber of Ita­lian com­po­sers for the lute wor­king in the second half of the 16th cen­tury, none reached the sta­tu­re of Fran­ces­co Cano­va da Milano, alt­hough Gia­co­mo Gor­za­nis (from 1561 to 1579), Giu­lio Cesa­re Bar­bet­ta and Simo­ne Moli­na­ro (1599) publis­hed some exce­llent works. All the current types of com­po­si­tion are repre­sen­ted in their works: ricer­ca­res and fan­ta­sias in the con­tra­pun­tal sty­le deve­lo­ped by Fran­ces­co; inta­bu­la­tions of vocal ori­gi­nals; set­tings of dan­ces, inclu­ding the various popu­lar grounds such as the pas­sa­mez­zo anti­co, the pas­sa­mez­zo moderno and the roma­nes­ca, as well as other famous tunes of the time. Much of this music was for solo lute, but a collec­tion of dan­ces for three lutes by Gio­van­ni Paco­lo­ni, long thought to have been lost, sur­vi­ves in an edi­tion prin­ted by Pie­rre Pha­lè­se (i) in Leu­ven in 1564. In 1559 some of Fran­ces­co Cano­va da Milano’s ricer­ca­res were publis­hed by the Fle­mish com­po­ser Ioan­ne Mate­lart as Recer­ca­te con­cer­ta­te, that is, with a second lute-part or con­tra­pun­to, inge­niously con­ver­ting the ori­gi­nal solos into duets. Until the midd­le of the 16th cen­tury, lute music was gene­rally wit­hin the pre­vai­ling modal ideas of the time, alt­hough some com­po­sers occa­sio­nally depar­ted from strict modal struc­tu­re. In 1567, howe­ver, Gor­za­nis pro­du­ced a remar­ka­ble manus­cript of 24 pas­sa­mez­zos, each with its accom­pan­ying sal­ta­re­llo, in major and minor modes on all the degrees of the chro­ma­tic sca­le, rising in suc­ces­sion.

True chro­ma­tic wri­ting for the lute was rare, alt­hough by the end of the cen­tury it was begin­ning to be exploi­ted, notably in works by the Genoe­se maes­tro di cap­pe­lla, Simo­ne Moli­na­ro. The few sur­vi­ving fan­ta­sias by the impor­tant Nea­po­li­tan com­po­ser and lute­nist Fabri­zio Den­ti­ce show a great com­mand of the ins­tru­ment and its con­tra­pun­tal pos­si­bi­li­ties; they are tech­ni­cally deman­ding, being con­sis­tently writ­ten in four real parts.

Vicen­zo Gali­lei was anot­her impor­tant figu­re of the period, though he is less known today as a com­po­ser than as a wri­ter; his theo­re­ti­cal and prac­ti­cal stu­dies are con­tai­ned in books prin­ted bet­ween 1568 and 1589, whi­le furt­her prints and manus­cripts pre­ser­ve a lar­ge body of his exce­llent lute music (extracts ed. in IMi, iv, 1934). At this time Ita­lian lute­nists were in demand throug­hout Euro­pe; Galilei’s gif­ted youn­ger son Miche­lan­ge­lo (1575–1631) wor­ked as lute­nist for the Polish and Bava­rian courts (it was said that his brot­her, the scien­tist Gali­leo, was an even finer pla­yer). Dio­me­des Cato and Loren­zi­ni were outs­tan­ding com­po­sers, each with a very per­so­nal sty­le. Dio­me­des ser­ved the Polish court for many years, whi­le Loren­zi­ni, said to have recei­ved a papal knight­hood for his lute pla­ying, was unsuc­cess­fully approa­ched by Las­sus as a recruit for the Kape­lle of the Duke of Bava­ria. His tech­ni­cally deman­ding and expres­si­ve music was later collec­ted and publis­hed by a pupil, the French lute­nist Besard, in his The­sau­rus har­mo­ni­cus (Colog­ne, 1603). Anot­her dis­tin­guis­hed lute­nist who does not seem to have left Italy, Gio­van­ni Anto­nio Ter­zi, publis­hed two books of his own fine music (1593 and 1599) – fan­ta­sias, vocal inta­bu­la­tions and dan­ces – mainly for solo lute but inclu­ding music for two and four lutes as well as lute parts to be pla­yed with other ins­tru­ments. In Terzi’s second collec­tion the ‘couran­te fran­ce­se’ appears for the first time in Italy, pre­sa­ging the chan­ges in musi­cal sty­le and lute tech­ni­que that were to result in French domi­nan­ce of the lute sce­ne for most of the follo­wing cen­tury.

French influen­ce in dan­ce music beco­mes increa­singly impor­tant in the few Ita­lian lute collec­tions of the 17th cen­tury, alt­hough the expres­si­ve Ita­lia­na­te toc­ca­ta sty­le holds sway in freely com­po­sed gen­res. Miche­lan­ge­lo Gali­lei (1620) com­po­sed sui­tes each com­pri­sing an intro­duc­tory toc­ca­ta effec­ti­vely exploi­ting expres­si­ve dis­so­nan­ce follo­wed by a sequen­ce of dan­ces in French sty­le. This qua­si-impro­vi­sa­tory sty­le was taken somew­hat furt­her in the collec­tions for lute and chi­ta­rro­ne or theor­bo (1604, 1611 and 1640) by the lute­nist and theor­bist of Ger­man extrac­tion, Gio­van­ni Giro­la­mo Kaps­per­ger, who­se idiosyn­cra­tic works have been com­pa­red with tho­se for key­board by his Roman collea­gue, Fres­co­bal­di. A more reser­ved figu­re is Kapsperger’s Bolog­ne­se rival, Ales­san­dro Pic­ci­ni­ni, who was capa­ble of fine works in a seve­rely con­tra­pun­tal idiom as well as tune­ful dan­ces, vir­tuo­so varia­tions and expres­si­ve toc­ca­tas, fre­quently using chro­ma­ti­cism to good effect. A num­ber of pie­ces by various mem­bers of the Gar­si family of lute­nists from Par­ma are found in a variety of manus­cript sour­ces, sug­ges­ting that their music was espe­cially popu­lar among dilet­tan­te pla­yers such as the owner of one such book (PL-Kj Mus Ms 41053), the Polish or Whi­te Rus­sian noble­man K.S.R. Dusiac­ki (see Gar­si, San­tino).

By the 1620s the lute in Italy was nor­mally fit­ted with seve­ral extra bass cour­ses. A full octa­ve of open bas­ses on an exten­ded neck was stan­dard on the liu­to attior­ba­to (the ‘theor­boed lute’) as used in the French-influen­ced works of Pie­tro Pao­lo Melli who, unu­sually, expe­ri­men­ted with scor­da­tu­ra tunings. This type of ins­tru­ment, who­se lar­ger cousin, the arci­liu­to (archlu­te), was prin­ci­pally (alt­hough not exclu­si­vely) used for accom­pa­ni­ment from around 1680, was also called for in the highly vir­tuo­so music of Ber­nar­do Gia­non­ce­lli (1650), and again in the Core­llian sona­tas of Gio­van­ni Zam­bo­ni (1718). Lute tabla­tu­re was by this time vir­tually obso­le­te in Italy, alt­hough the ins­tru­ment was used throug­hout the 18th cen­tury. The last sig­ni­fi­cant sour­ces, Filip­po Dalla Casa’s manus­cripts of 1759 (I-Bc EE155; ed. O. Cris­to­fo­ret­ti, 1984), are writ­ten enti­rely in staff nota­tion, a fact which rai­ses the ques­tion as to whet­her more Ita­lian lute music may sur­vi­ve in this form as yet unre­cog­ni­zed.

(ii) Germany, Bohemia and Austria.

Alt­hough based in Italy, many of the impor­tant figu­res in the early his­tory of the lute were in fact Ger­man, notably the 15th-cen­tury blind orga­nist, har­pist and lute­nist Con­rad Pau­mann, who is said to have inven­ted the Ger­man lute tabla­tu­re sys­tem. Outsi­de Italy the first prin­ted lute music appea­red in the Ger­ma­nic sta­tes of the Holy Roman Empi­re. Vir­dung inclu­ded ins­truc­tions for the lute and one pie­ce as a peda­go­gi­cal illus­tra­tion. Schlick’s Tabu­la­tu­ren etli­cher Lob­ge­sang und Lied­lein (1512) con­tains 14 songs for voi­ce and lute and three solo pie­ces. Judenkünig’s Uti­lis et com­pen­dia­ria intro­duc­tio (c1515–19) and Ain scho­ne kunstli­che Under­wei­sung (1523) both inclu­de ins­truc­tions for pla­ying as well as music. The first con­tains solo lute inta­bu­la­tions of set­tings of Horace’s odes by Petrus Tri­to­nius publis­hed for voi­ces in 1507, toget­her with other simi­lar pie­ces and dan­ce music; the second is a mix­tu­re of dan­ces, lute ver­sions of vocal ori­gi­nals, and five pie­ces called ‘Pria­mel’, corres­pon­ding to the Ita­lian ricer­ca­re. Ger­le (1532) gave ins­truc­tions and music for viol and rebec as well as for lute; his book was reprin­ted in 1537, and in 1546 a revi­sed and enlar­ged edi­tion was publis­hed. His Tabu­la­tur auff die Laud­ten (1533) com­pri­ses music for solo lute, inclu­ding inta­bu­la­tions and pie­ces entitled ‘Pream­bel’.

The publi­ca­tions of Hans Neu­sid­ler began with his book of 1536. He was the first wri­ter of ins­truc­tion books to show real peda­go­gic talent; not only did he give clear ins­truc­tions for both right and left hands, but his pie­ces are care­fully gra­dua­ted, lea­ding the begin­ner by gentle degrees through the initial dif­fi­cul­ties. Two modi­fied tunings are found in his work: one, known as ‘Abzug’, con­sis­ted in lowe­ring the sixth cour­se by a tone, and the other was used in his Juden­tanz. (The scor­da­tu­ra nota­tion of this pie­ce has been mis­read by some scho­lars, who the­reby mis­took it for an early exam­ple of poly­to­na­lity.)

Collec­tions of music in Ger­man tabla­tu­re con­ti­nued to be prin­ted until 1592, some under the name of the publis­her, such as tho­se of Rudolf Wys­sen­bach (1550) and Bern­hard Jobin (1572), others by com­po­ser, collec­tor or arran­ger, such as Sebas­tian Och­sen­kun (1558), Matt­häus Wais­sel (1573, 1591, 1592) and Wolff Hec­kel (inclu­ding music for two lutes, 1556, 1562). A total of about 20 or 30 volu­mes appear to have been prin­ted. Most of the­se show con­si­de­ra­ble influen­ce from Ita­lian, French and even Spa­nish music of the time.

The Ger­man sys­tem of lute tabla­tu­re was in use not only in Ger­ma­nic coun­tries, but was also wides­pread throug­hout cen­tral and Eas­tern Euro­pe. Its ear­liest appea­ran­ce (the Königs­tein Lie­der­buch; see Sour­ces of lute music, §3), howe­ver, records a few sin­gle-line melo­dies which may be more sui­ta­ble for a bowed ins­tru­ment (iden­ti­cal tabla­tu­re nota­tion sys­tems were often used for pluc­ked and bowed ins­tru­ments until well into the 18th cen­tury). Alt­hough the­re have been a num­ber of stu­dies of Ger­man lute tabla­tu­re sour­ces, the gene­ral lack of modern edi­tions reflects the reluc­tan­ce of modern lute­nists to play from Ger­man tabla­tu­re, which is com­monly per­cei­ved as more dif­fi­cult to read than the French or Ita­lian sys­tems. The rela­ti­ve impor­tan­ce of Ger­man lute sour­ces has thus been con­sis­tently under­va­lued in the modern revi­val.

Many of the sur­vi­ving manus­cripts have evi­dent asso­cia­tions with a uni­ver­sity mili­eu, and the­se ‘stu­dent’ lute­books often incor­po­ra­te an ant­ho­logy of Latin ver­ses (fre­quently amo­rous), clas­si­cal quo­ta­tions and wise pro­verbs. Their musi­cal con­tent is some­ti­mes less edif­ying, but they are valua­ble as repo­si­to­ries of a very wide ran­ge of sty­les and types of music, from solo pie­ces (fan­ta­sies, pre­lu­des etc.), com­plex inta­bu­la­ted vocal polyp­hony from the French, Ita­lian and Fle­mish reper­tory as well as Ger­man cho­ra­le set­tings and Gesells­chafts­lie­der, through to other­wi­se unre­cor­ded dan­ce and ‘folk’ music, often expli­citly labe­lled with a regio­nal ori­gin. Some of the dan­ce music can be shown to have its ori­gins in polyp­ho­nic music and in the reper­tory of the Stadtp­fei­fer. An inter­es­ting cha­rac­te­ris­tic is the late sur­vi­val in lute sour­ces of other­wi­se obso­le­te gen­res such as the Tenor­lied and the Hof­tanz. From the late 16th cen­tury onwards, for­merly popu­lar Hof­tän­ze are often clas­sed as ‘Polish dan­ces’ in Ger­man lute sour­ces. In manus­cript and prin­ted sour­ces, the non-Ger­man music inclu­ded tends to be pre­do­mi­nantly Ita­lian in the early 16th cen­tury, but by the end of the cen­tury a scat­te­ring of French, Polish and other Sla­vic, Hun­ga­rian and other Eas­tern Euro­pean, and, increa­singly, English dan­ces are iden­ti­fied, many of which pro­ve to be uni­que sur­vi­vals.

After 1592, Ger­man publi­ca­tions for the lute used eit­her Ita­lian or French tabla­tu­re, alt­hough Ger­man tabla­tu­re con­ti­nued in manus­cript sour­ces until about 1620. Impor­tant prin­ted collec­tions were tho­se of Adrian Denss (Flo­ri­le­gium, 1594), Matt­hias Rey­mann (Noc­tes musi­cae, 1598) and Johann Rude (Flo­res musi­cae, 1600); the­se are exten­si­ve collec­tions of pie­ces from the inter­na­tio­nal reper­tory, and simi­lar com­pi­la­tions con­ti­nued to appear in the 17th cen­tury. The most impor­tant of the­se ant­ho­lo­gies was Besard’s The­sau­rus har­mo­ni­cus (Colog­ne, 1603), men­tio­ned abo­ve in con­nec­tion with Loren­zi­ni, Besard’s lute tea­cher in Rome, who­se works occupy a cen­tral posi­tion in the volu­me. Others were tho­se of Georg Leo­pold Fuhr­mann (Tes­tu­do gallo-ger­ma­ni­ca, Nurem­berg, 1615), Elias Mer­tel (Hor­tus musi­ca­lis, Stras­bourg, 1615), and Johann Daniel Mylius (The­sau­rus gra­tia­rum, Frank­furt, 1622).

Pro­bably as a con­se­quen­ce of the Thirty Years War (1618–48), little music for the lute was publis­hed in Ger­man-spea­king lands until much later in the cen­tury. A few manus­cripts, and the evi­den­ce of pain­tings and lite­rary sour­ces, sug­gest, howe­ver, that the ins­tru­ment con­ti­nued in regu­lar use, in solos and for accom­pan­ying the voi­ce. Among the most impor­tant manus­cripts is that com­pi­led by Vir­gi­nia Rena­ta von Gehe­ma in Dan­zig (now Gdańsk) around the midd­le of the cen­tury (D-Bsb Mus.ms.40624). In com­mon with most such collec­tions, it con­sists mostly of music by French lute­nists such as Mesan­geau, the Gaul­tiers, Dufaut and Pinel, or by their Ger­man imi­ta­tors, lea­ve­ned with Ger­man song set­tings (and, in this par­ti­cu­lar case, by an unu­sual num­ber of Polish dan­ces). The French influen­ce exten­ded to the use of the accords nou­veaux on lutes with ten to twel­ve cour­ses. Esaias Reus­ner (ii), who stu­died with a French lute­nist, in his two publis­hed collec­tions (1667 and 1676) mostly used the D minor tuning that was rapidly beco­ming the stan­dard, but also emplo­yed other tunings in a highly idio­ma­tic fas­hion. Whi­le Reusner’s debt to French models, espe­cially Dufaut, is clear, his music is cha­rac­te­ri­zed by an increa­sing ten­dency towards a can­ta­bi­le melo­dic sty­le and an expres­si­ve use of dis­so­nan­ce. Phi­lipp Franz Le Sage de Richée seems to have wor­ked for Baron von Nied­hardt in Bres­lau, capi­tal of the Ger­man-spea­king pro­vin­ce of Sile­sia, a region of much impor­tan­ce in the sub­se­quent his­tory of lute music. In his Cabi­net der Lau­ten (n.p., n.d.; the copy for­merly in Riemann’s pos­ses­sion bore the date 1695), he prai­sed Gaul­tier, Dufaut, Mou­ton (his for­mer tea­cher) and the influen­tial Bohe­mian aris­to­cra­tic lute­nist Count Jan Anto­nín Losy. His valua­ble lute-pla­ying ins­truc­tions were fre­quently copied into manus­cripts and his book was – most unu­sually – reprin­ted as late as 1735. A more mys­te­rious figu­re is Jacob Bitt­ner who a deca­de ear­lier publis­hed a highly accom­plis­hed collec­tion of Pie­ces de lut (Nurem­berg, 1682).

In the Haps­burg lands of Aus­tria and Bohe­mia, French influen­ce on lute music was, if anyt­hing, even stron­ger, and it seems likely that seve­ral French pla­yers visi­ted the region. Among the lar­ge num­ber of items of lute and gui­tar music assem­bled in the great library of the Lob­ko­witz family at Roud­ni­ce are seve­ral that sug­gest clo­se per­so­nal con­tact with Mou­ton, Gallot and others, inclu­ding the gui­ta­rists Dero­siers and Cor­bet­ta. Local com­po­sers for the lute, like their Ger­man coun­ter­parts, ten­ded to imi­ta­te the French, whi­le adding tou­ches of Ita­lia­na­te melody, expli­citly in the case of move­ments labe­lled ‘Aria’, which may reveal the increa­sing influen­ce of ope­ra. By 1700 the lute was unmis­ta­kably an ‘aris­to­cra­tic’ ins­tru­ment in Vien­na, alt­hough T.B. Janov­ka (Cla­vis ad the­sau­ram mag­nae artis musi­cae, Pra­gue, 1701/R, 2/1715/R as Cla­vis ad musi­cam) sta­ted that lutes were so plen­ti­ful in Pra­gue that the hou­ses could be roo­fed with them. The Vien­ne­se lute­nists Fer­di­nand Ignaz Hin­ter­leith­ner (1699) and Baron Wen­zel Lud­wig von Radolt (1701) dedi­ca­ted their publis­hed works to suc­ces­si­ve music-loving empe­rors, alt­hough neit­her con­tains much music of any ins­pi­ra­tion; they are both collec­tions of cham­ber music for lute with other ins­tru­ments. Their youn­ger con­tem­po­rary J.G. Wei­chen­ber­ger left no publis­hed collec­tion, and much of his music is lost, but what remains shows some fine qua­li­ties, espe­cially in his exten­ded impro­vi­sa­tory pre­lu­des.

Count Jan Anto­nín Losy von Losint­hal, the ‘Prin­ce among lute­nists’ accor­ding to Le Sage de Richée, left a sig­ni­fi­cant num­ber of works in manus­cript in an idio­ma­tic and appea­lingly mixed French/Italian sty­le. He is best known, howe­ver, as the post­hu­mous dedi­ca­tee of a tom­beau com­po­sed on his death (1721) by the grea­test lute­nist of the follo­wing gene­ra­tion, Sil­vius Leo­pold Weiss (1686–1750), who­se influen­ce was felt throug­hout the Ger­man-spea­king world. Weiss’s long career embra­ced early employ­ment in his nati­ve city of Bres­lau, an exten­ded stay in Italy (1708–14) and a lengthy period of employ­ment as one of the stars of the Dres­den musi­cal esta­blish­ment (1717–50). A lar­ger body of music by him sur­vi­ves than by any other lute­nist of any age (over 650 pie­ces) dating from all periods of his life, alt­hough esta­blis­hing a relia­ble chro­no­logy for Weiss’s works is extre­mely dif­fi­cult. In his mul­ti-move­ment pie­ces, which he always called ‘sona­tas’, he took the stan­dard cons­ti­tuent dan­ce forms of the French sui­te, wor­king them out into impres­si­ve struc­tu­res, often, espe­cially in the later music, of great length. Some requi­re a great deal of vir­tuo­sity in per­for­man­ce, but all remain highly idio­ma­tic for the lute. In slo­wer move­ments, such as sara­ban­des and alle­man­des, Weiss used a three-part tex­tu­re, the inner voi­ce con­tri­bu­ting greatly to the expres­si­ve effect, whi­le in fas­ter music such as couran­tes, gigues and other vir­tuo­so fina­le move­ments, the tex­tu­re beco­mes pre­do­mi­nantly two-part. Many of his sona­tas are on an unpre­ce­den­tedly lar­ge sca­le; they can take up to 30 minu­tes in per­for­man­ce. Most, howe­ver, do not sur­vi­ve with inte­gral pre­lu­des; the­se are some­ti­mes found added later to the manus­cripts, in a few cases by Weiss him­self. This sug­gests that he sup­plied them as subs­ti­tu­tes or models for a move­ment that he expec­ted an expert pla­yer to impro­vi­se. The­se highly expres­si­ve qua­si-impro­vi­sed pre­lu­des and fan­ta­sies, often emplo­ying chro­ma­tic har­mony, repre­sent some of Weiss’s most cha­rac­te­ris­tic music. He also com­po­sed a good deal of music of a more con­tra­pun­tal natu­re in fugal sec­tions of over­tu­res and fan­ta­sies as well as in a num­ber of self-stan­ding fugues.

Among the pie­ces of J.S. Bach belie­ved to have been inten­ded for the lute (or lute-har­psi­chord, and thus in direct imi­ta­tion of lute sty­le) are some fugues (bwv997, 998) which extend the demands on the pla­yer beyond the nor­mal bounds of idio­ma­tic tech­ni­que. Bach, alt­hough usually res­trai­ned in the simul­ta­neo­us acti­vity of the voi­ces in the­se works, builds towards con­tra­pun­tal cli­ma­xes in four real parts, whe­reas Weiss inge­niously gives the impres­sion of more com­ple­xity than in fact is pre­sent. Seve­ral of Bach’s lute works are adap­ta­tions of music ori­gi­nally for solo cello or vio­lin which he made him­self or are the work of con­tem­po­rary lute­nists (e.g. bwv997 and 1000, tabla­tu­re ver­sions by J.C. Wey­rauch; bwv995, arran­ged by Bach, tabla­tu­re ver­sion pro­bably by Adam Falc­ken­ha­gen), a pre­ce­dent which has been suc­cess­fully follo­wed by many of today’s pla­yers. Bach clearly admi­red the ins­tru­ment, wri­ting expres­si­ve obbli­ga­to solo parts for the ori­gi­nal ver­sions of the St Matt­hew and St John Pas­sions and using a pair of lutes in the Traue­ro­de. The sui­te for har­psi­chord and vio­lin bwv1025, for some time sus­pec­ted as a spu­rious work, has been shown to be an arran­ge­ment of a lute sona­ta by Weiss, and con­tem­po­rary refe­ren­ces tes­tify to the two com­po­sers’ acquain­tan­ce and mutual res­pect.

Weiss was the pre-emi­nent lea­der among a flou­ris­hing com­mu­nity of both ama­teur and pro­fes­sio­nal lute­nists in his time. Among the best-known were Wolff Jacob Lauf­fens­tei­ner (1676–1754), Adam Falc­ken­ha­gen (1697–1754), and the Bres­lau-born pla­yers Ernst Gottlieb Baron (1696–1760), already men­tio­ned as an early his­to­rian of the lute, and Weiss’s pupil Johann Kropf­gans (1708–c1771). Lauffensteiner’s music, and that from the early careers of Baron and Falc­ken­ha­gen, is simi­lar in sty­le to that of Weiss (which leads to some con­fu­sion in manus­cript sour­ces). By the 1740s, howe­ver, lute com­po­sers began to pre­fer a sim­pler two-part tex­tu­re, with increa­sed treble–bass pola­ri­za­tion. Later lute­nists, such as the expert key­board pla­yer and stu­dent of J.S. Bach, Rudolf Strau­be (1717–c1780) and the Bay­reuth vio­li­nist Joa­chim Bern­hard Hagen (1720–87), were affec­ted by the somew­hat dif­fe­rent idioms of their prin­ci­pal ins­tru­ments, and no tra­ce of influen­ce from the ear­lier French lute tra­di­tion remains. All the­se pla­yers, inclu­ding Weiss him­self, com­po­sed cham­ber works for the lute with other ins­tru­ments, inclu­ding con­cer­tos, alt­hough in the case of Strau­be and, most regret­tably, of Weiss him­self, none sur­vi­ve in com­ple­te form. The­re was a con­ti­nuing demand for lute music among Ger­man ama­teurs, as is shown by the lar­ge quan­tity offe­red for sale in Leip­zig; over 200 solo works, 23 lute duets, over 150 trios for lute, vio­lin and bass, and 50 con­cer­tos for lute with string ensem­ble fea­tu­re in various Breit­kopf cata­lo­gues bet­ween 1761 and 1771. A sig­ni­fi­cant reper­tory of vocal music arran­ged for the lute, some­ti­mes fully tex­ted, toget­her with occa­sio­nal writ­ten refe­ren­ces to the prac­ti­ce, sug­gests that the lute at least in some cir­cles main­tai­ned its tra­di­tio­nal role in domes­tic situa­tions as an accom­pa­ni­ment to the voi­ce. The use of the lar­ger and lou­der theor­bo as a con­ti­nuo ins­tru­ment in church and ope­ra hou­se con­ti­nued as long as the­re were expert pla­yers; Weiss per­for­med in all the Has­se ope­ras in Dres­den until late in 1749, and Kropf­gans took part in Hiller’s ope­ret­tas in Leip­zig for anot­her two deca­des after that. Carl Maria von Weber heard Weiss’s son, Johann Adolf Faus­ti­nus Weiss, play the theor­bo in the Dres­den Hof­kir­che as late as 1811.

Ques­tions of aut­hen­ti­city surround the hand­ful of early works by Haydn in con­tem­po­rary ver­sions for lute with other ins­tru­ments, in which the first vio­lin part of a quar­tet, trans­po­sed down an octa­ve and fur­nis­hed with a sim­pli­fied bass line, is given to the lute. Some highly idio­ma­tic music in a simi­lar sty­le was com­po­sed by the Vien­ne­se lute­nist Karl Kohaut (1726–82; like Haydn, a mem­ber of Baron van Swieten’s cir­cle), inclu­ding ensem­ble diver­ti­men­ti, some cha­llen­ging con­cer­tos and a sin­gle sur­vi­ving solo sona­ta. Towards the end of the cen­tury Frie­drich Wil­helm Rust com­po­sed a set of three sona­tas for lute and vio­lin (dated 1791 on one manus­cript, but pro­bably com­po­sed some years ear­lier). The last work for solo lute was a set of 12 varia­tions by Chris­tian Gottlieb Scheid­ler (d 1815) on a the­me by Mozart, ins­pi­red by the first per­for­man­ce of Don Gio­van­ni in Pra­gue in 1787.

(iii) France.

Alt­hough the Pesa­ro manus­cript (see §8(i) abo­ve) was writ­ten in ‘French’ tabla­tu­re, its reper­tory and ori­gin are exclu­si­vely Ita­lian. The first prin­ted French tabla­tu­re, using a five-line staff, appea­red in Gui­llau­me Vorstermann’s Livre plai­sant et tres uti­le(Ant­werp, 1529), a trans­la­tion of Virdung’s book of 1511. Virdung’s musi­cal exam­ple was repla­ced with the Fle­mish chan­son Een vro­lic wesen (in organ tabla­tu­re and staff nota­tion as well as for lute). Also in 1529 Pie­rre Attain­gnant at Paris prin­ted his Tres bre­ve et fami­liè­re intro­duc­tion; his Dix­huit bas­ses dan­ces of 1530 con­tai­ned some 66 lute pie­ces (for a modern edi­tion of some of Attaingnant’s music, see Pre­lu­des, Chan­sons and Dan­ces for the Lute, ed. D. Heartz, 1964).

Bet­ween 1551 and 1596 Adrian Le Roy prin­ted books of music for gui­tar and cit­tern as well as for lute. His sur­vi­ving lute­books extend from Pre­mier livre de tabla­tu­re de luth (1551) to Livre d’airs de cour (1571) for voi­ce and lute. His ins­truc­tions for pla­ying the lute sur­vi­ve in English trans­la­tion, and give a clear des­crip­tion of the tech­ni­que used in Fran­ce at the time.

Gui­llau­me Mor­la­ye was asso­cia­ted with the prin­ter Michel Fezan­dat, also of Paris, who brought out not only Morlaye’s own works (1552–8) but also tho­se of the Ita­lian, Alber­to da Ripa (1552–62). Julien Belin’s Pre­mier livre (1556) was prin­ted by Nico­las Du Che­min, and Gio­van­ni Pao­lo Paladin’s (1560) at Lyons by Simon Gor­lier.

In the lat­ter part of the 16th cen­tury French music publis­hing decli­ned somew­hat, and few lute­books were issued except for some reprints of ear­lier works. With the increa­se of dia­pa­son strings, the use of a five-line tabla­tu­re staff gave way to six lines, and around the end of the cen­tury furt­her chan­ges began to appear. Somew­hat ear­lier, the term ‘à cor­des ava­llées’ had been used in one of Gorlier’s gui­tar books to deno­te the lowe­ring of cer­tain strings. The appli­ca­tion of this term to the lute in Ant­hoi­ne Francisque’s Le tré­sor d’Orphée (1600) sig­ni­fied a depar­tu­re from the basic Renais­san­ce tuning and fores­ha­do­wed a period of transition in which many tuning sys­tems were adop­ted, though the old set of inter­vals con­ti­nued in use for some time (see §5 abo­ve). The most nota­ble collec­tion of this period was Besard’s The­sau­rus har­mo­ni­cus (1603); the same editor’s Novus par­tus (1617) inclu­des seve­ral pie­ces for an ensem­ble of lutes and ins­tru­ments or voi­ces as well as for solo lute. The ten-cour­se lute figu­red lar­gely in the books of Robert Ballard (ii) (1611, 1614) and of Vallet (1615, 1619, 1620), who also inclu­ded a set of pie­ces for a quar­tet of lutes. Other dis­tin­guis­hed com­po­sers for the lute in vieil ton inclu­de Julien Perri­chon, Vic­tor de Mont­buis­son, Mer­cu­re d’Orléans and Char­les Boc­quet. Their exce­llent works inclu­de a num­ber of pre­lu­des or other impro­vi­sa­tio­nal gen­res, alt­hough dan­ce music pre­do­mi­na­tes.

Toget­her with the increa­se in the num­ber of dia­pa­son strings and the new tunings a mar­ked chan­ge of sty­le beca­me appa­rent. Pre­lu­des, couran­tes, vol­tas and sara­ban­des beca­me the favou­ri­te forms in the first deca­des of the 17th cen­tury, whi­le inta­bu­la­tions of polyp­ho­nic music and the con­tra­pun­tal fan­ta­sie all but disap­pea­red. The cha­rac­te­ris­tic form of French lute song, the air de cour, sprang from the ela­bo­ra­te court ballets, and flou­ris­hed bet­ween 1571 and 1632.

The eight volu­mes of Airs de dif­fé­rents aut­heurs (1608–18), the first six of which were arran­ged by Gabriel Batai­lle, inclu­de works by all the finest French songw­ri­ters of the time and show the influen­ce of musi­que mesu­rée à l’antique. Alt­hough the exact set­ting of long and short sylla­bles was not always strict, the ver­bal rhythms and poe­tic struc­tu­re beca­me of pri­me impor­tan­ce, and the res­tric­tion of the bar-line almost enti­rely disap­pea­red. Many songs of great beauty were writ­ten in this sty­le, notably by Pie­rre Gué­dron. (See also Chan­sons au luth et airs de cour fra­nçais du XVIe siè­cle, ed. L. de La Lau­ren­cie, A. Mairy and G. Thi­bault, 1934; and Airs de cour pour voix et luth (1603–1642), ed. A. Ver­chaly, 1961.)

Early works by René Mesan­geau and Enne­mond Gaul­tier use the vieil ton, but both com­po­sers left a lar­ger body of music in the later tunings. Gaul­tier in par­ti­cu­lar favou­red the D minor tuning which was to beco­me the norm by the mid-17th cen­tury. Three impor­tant ant­ho­lo­gies under the title Tabla­tu­re de luth des dif­fé­rents aut­heurs sur les accords nou­veaux were issued at Paris by Pie­rre Ballard (1623, 1631, 1638); unfor­tu­na­tely the ear­liest does not sur­vi­ve. The­se pre­sent infor­mal ‘sui­tes’ of dan­ces grou­ped by com­po­ser and tuning (strongly asso­cia­ted with key); alt­hough the num­bers of each dan­ce vary, the order of the ‘core’ com­po­nent move­ments – alle­man­de, couran­te, sara­ban­de – remains fixed. Among the dan­ces, which inclu­de sets of bran­les, the­re are a few song set­tings. Some of the com­po­sers, inclu­ding Belle­vi­lle and Chancy, were fas­hio­na­ble dan­cing mas­ters who were clo­sely asso­cia­ted with the ballet de cour; others, espe­cially Mesan­geau, Pie­rre Dubut le père and Fra­nçois Dufaut, toget­her with the emi­nent royal musi­cian Ger­main Pinel, were pro­mi­nent and influen­tial lute­nists who­se works make up a lar­ge pro­por­tion of the manus­cript reper­tory pre­ser­ved in Fran­ce, Bri­tain and Ger­man-spea­king coun­tries during the rest of the cen­tury.

Coin­ci­ding with the emer­gen­ce of the D minor tuning as the favou­ri­te accord nou­veau, the 11-cour­se lute (see §3 abo­ve) beca­me esta­blis­hed as the norm, and seems to have ous­ted the 12-cour­se ins­tru­ment in Fran­ce by the midd­le of the cen­tury, alt­hough the lat­ter retai­ned its popu­la­rity in Bri­tain, Ger­many and the Net­her­lands for much lon­ger. Pla­yers such as Dufaut and Dubut le père adap­ted to the new tuning with great suc­cess, whi­le a new gene­ra­tion of lute­nists, among them Denis Gaul­tier, Jac­ques Gallot and Char­les Mou­ton pro­du­ced a major body of expres­si­ve work in the clas­sic sty­le pré­cieux of the Paris salon. In the pur­suit of rhe­to­ri­cal expres­sion (a goal made expli­cit in the famous and sum­ptuously deco­ra­ted manus­cript of Denis Gaultier’s music, La rhé­to­ri­que des dieux, Paris, c1652; ed. A. Tes­sier, PSFM, vi–vii, 1932/R) a variety of stro­kes and fairly exten­si­ve orna­men­ta­tion were expec­ted, even more than tho­se spe­ci­fi­cally indi­ca­ted in the nota­tion, and the use of notes inéga­leswas also left to the tas­te and dis­cre­tion of the pla­yer. (For the solo lute music see Cor­pus des lut­his­tes fra­nçais, a series pro­du­ced by the CNRS, 1957–.)

An inte­gral cha­rac­te­ris­tic of the music of the French Baro­que school was a con­ven­tion of per­for­man­ce, reflec­ted in the nota­tion, that came to be known as sty­le bri­sé; in many pas­sa­ges the notes of the tre­ble and bass (or other voi­ces) were soun­ded one after anot­her (the bass first) ins­tead of simul­ta­neo­usly as was the more gene­ral prac­ti­ce in polyp­ho­nic music. A rela­ted fea­tu­re was the rhyth­mic brea­king or arpeg­gia­tion of chords that were often writ­ten plain. This could be indi­ca­ted by obli­que lines pla­ced bet­ween the com­po­nent notes; often, howe­ver, such signs, like the expli­cit nota­tion of notes inéga­les, were omit­ted alto­get­her. Perri­ne, in a pas­sa­ge addres­sed to har­psi­chor­dists as well as lute­nists, refe­rred to the con­ven­tion as ‘the spe­cial man­ner of pla­ying all sorts of lute pie­ces’; ex.6 shows the inter­pre­ta­tion given in his Pie­ces de luth en musi­que (1680). It was this sty­le in par­ti­cu­lar that exer­ted a con­si­de­ra­ble influen­ce on the wri­ting of con­tem­po­rary key­board pla­yers and visi­tors such as the young Fro­ber­ger. The­se con­ven­tions in the per­for­man­ce of French lute music were clearly con­si­de­red cha­rac­te­ris­tic of the gen­re by Ger­mans adop­ting the French lute sty­le. They are almost always more expli­citly nota­ted in the many impor­tant Ger­man sour­ces of 17th-cen­tury French lute music which for­med the basis of the Ger­man reper­tory well into the 18th cen­tury. Sin­ce, furt­her­mo­re, the­se manus­cripts often pre­ser­ve lar­ge num­bers of works (e.g. by Dufaut, Gallot and Mou­ton) not found in French sour­ces their impor­tan­ce is con­si­de­ra­ble.

(iv) The Netherlands, Spain and eastern Europe.

In Ant­werp Gui­llau­me Vors­ter­mann, who had publis­hed the French trans­la­tion of Virdung’s Musi­ca getutscht, brought out a Fle­mish trans­la­tion, Dit is een zeer schoon boecx­ken … opt cla­ve­cor­dium luy­te ende fluy­te (1554, 2/1568). Of grea­ter sco­pe were the acti­vi­ties of Pie­rre Pha­lè­se (i), who­se first lute­book, Des chan­sons reduictz en tabu­la­tu­re de lut (Leu­ven, 1545), con­tai­ned works by many com­po­sers. Pha­lè­se, somet­hing of a pira­te among publis­hers, spe­cia­li­zed in lar­ge ant­ho­lo­gies of music from all over Euro­pe, collec­ting vocal as well as ins­tru­men­tal music of many kinds. The only sur­vi­ving edi­tion of Gio­van­ni Pacoloni’s book, with music for three lutes, was publis­hed by Pha­lè­se at Leu­ven in 1564. He later moved his press to Ant­werp, whe­re he joi­ned Jean Bellè­re. Ema­nuel Adriaenssen’s books Pra­tum musi­cum, 1584, and Novum pra­tum musi­cum, 1592, with other edi­tions up to 1600, were prin­ted by Pie­rre Pha­lè­se (ii) at Ant­werp, and con­tain work by other com­po­sers besi­des Adriaens­sen him­self, in arran­ge­ments for one to four lutes with and wit­hout voi­ces.

Joa­chim van den Hove pro­du­ced two lar­ge collec­tions of works by inter­na­tio­nally famous com­po­sers: Flo­ri­da (1601) and Deli­tiae musi­cae (1612). His own com­po­si­tions and arran­ge­ments, which demand a sure tech­ni­que, also appear in them and in a num­ber of manus­cripts, two of which are auto­graph (the Sche­le manus­cript, D-Hs; and Hove, D-Bs). In 1626 Adriaen Vale­rius publis­hed an unu­sual collec­tion of music for voi­ce, lute and cit­tern with or wit­hout other ins­tru­ments called Neder-land­ts­che gedenck-clanck. This was a thinly dis­gui­sed book of patrio­tic songs direc­ted against the occup­ying Spa­nish for­ces, using many popu­lar tunes, some of them English. The enor­mous Thy­sius manus­cript (see Thy­sius, Johan) con­tains lute music in all the gen­res of the early 17th cen­tury, inclu­ding much English music, a lar­ge reper­tory of inta­bu­la­ted sacred and secu­lar vocal music and a num­ber of pie­ces for an ensem­ble of lutes. As far as the rest of the 17th cen­tury is con­cer­ned, alt­hough copious ico­no­grap­hi­cal evi­den­ce sug­gests con­ti­nuing popu­la­rity of the ins­tru­ment in the Net­her­lands, the­re are almost no sur­vi­ving musi­cal sour­ces for the lute.

After the expul­sion of the Moors in 1492 the his­tory of the lute in Spain beco­mes obs­cu­re. It was refe­rred to by Ber­mu­do as ‘vihue­la de Flan­des’, implying a degree of unfa­mi­lia­rity. The only extant books of tabla­tu­re prin­ted in Spain are for the vihue­la, which, though tuned to the same inter­vals as the lute, is a qui­te dis­tinct ins­tru­ment (for an account of its his­tory and reper­tory see Vihue­la). Nevert­he­less the­re is much evi­den­ce to sug­gest that the lute was more com­monly used than has been gene­rally recog­ni­zed.

The most famous 16th-cen­tury east Euro­pean lute­nist was Valen­tin Bak­fark, born in Transyl­va­nia. He wro­te some fine fan­ta­sias in the Ita­lian man­ner, and his great renown as a pla­yer took him to various courts and the hou­ses of nobles and mag­na­tes all over the Con­ti­nent. His books tes­tify to his cos­mo­po­li­tan repu­tation: Inta­bu­la­tu­ra liber pri­mus (1553) was prin­ted in Ita­lian tabla­tu­re in Lyons and was par­tially reprin­ted as Pre­mier livre de tabe­la­tu­re de luth (1564) in French tabla­tu­re, by Le Roy & Ballard in Paris. His Har­mo­nia­rum musi­ca­rum in usum tes­tu­di­nis fac­ta­rum tomus pri­mus (1565) was prin­ted in Kra­ków and reprin­ted in Ant­werp (1569), both edi­tions using Ita­lian tabla­tu­re. Woj­ciech Dłu­go­raj, born in Poland about 1557, publis­hed no books of his own, but his works are found in seve­ral collec­tions. Jakub Reys (‘Polo­nois’) was also born in Poland, but went to Fran­ce when qui­te young and was appoin­ted lute­nist to Hen­ri III; his works are mostly found in French ant­ho­lo­gies.

(v) England.

Little is known about the use of the lute in England befo­re the 14th cen­tury. Social deve­lop­ment was hardly ripe for the gene­ral spread of art music outsi­de the church, the court and a few great hou­ses. Under the Tudors, howe­ver (follo­wing the Wars of the Roses which ended with the sei­zu­re of the English thro­ne by Henry VII), a wealthy midd­le class began to appear, and the few urban cen­tres of popu­la­tion grew at an unpre­ce­den­ted rate. From the time of Henry VIII onwards, manus­cripts con­tai­ning lute tabla­tu­re began to appear, though none extant dates from befo­re 1540. Most of the pro­fes­sio­nal lute­nists at Henry’s court were Fle­mish or Ita­lian. The three royal chil­dren were taught to play, and evi­den­ce sug­gests that in gene­ral some ama­teur per­for­mers were begin­ning to beco­me qui­te pro­fi­cient.

The growth of the ‘lei­su­red clas­ses’ by about the midd­le of the 16th cen­tury led to a demand for ins­truc­tions for pla­ying the lute, which was best satis­fied by prin­ted books. The regis­ter of the Sta­tio­ners’ Com­pany records licen­ces to John Alde for The Sce­yen­ce of Lutyn­ge (1565) and to Robert Ballard (i) for An Exor­ta­tion to All Kyn­de of Men How they shul­de Learn to Play of the Lute (1567), but neit­her of the­se is now extant. The first three sur­vi­ving ins­truc­tion books in English are all deri­ved from a sin­gle French sour­ce, Le Roy’s Tres bre­ve et tres fami­liè­re ins­truc­tion, now lost. A Brie­fe and eas­ye Ins­tru[c]tion (1568) ‘englis­hed by J. Alford Lon­de­nor’ con­tains ins­truc­tions in the form of rules with music exam­ples, follo­wed by a collec­tion of fan­ta­sias and dan­ces. The rules, with cer­tain minor variants, are reprin­ted as the second part of A Brie­fe and Plai­ne Ins­truc­tion (1574), which also tea­ches ‘to set all music of eight divers tunes in Table­tu­re for the Lute’ (almost all the exam­ples being chan­sons by Las­sus). The third part com­pri­ses a collec­tion of music, qui­te dif­fe­rent from that of 1568, ‘con­teinyn­ge diver­se Psal­mes, and manie fine exce­llen­te Tunes’; the lat­ter are ver­sions of French chan­sons that Le Roy had set for voi­ce and lute in his Livre d’airs de cour (1571). English Pro­tes­tant tas­te (the book is dedi­ca­ted to Edward Sey­mo­re, Earl of Hert­ford) is cate­red for by the inclu­sion of metri­cal psalm tunes.

Le Roy’s ins­truc­tions were again trans­la­ted, but wit­hout ack­now­ledg­ment, by William Bar­ley in A New Boo­ke of Tabli­tu­re (1596), which also con­tains sec­tions for the orp­ha­rion and ban­do­ra. This work is the first prin­ted collec­tion for lute by English com­po­sers, and inclu­des, in the ban­do­ra sec­tion of the book, the ear­liest English solo songs with tabla­tu­re accom­pa­ni­ment. Robinson’s The Schoo­le of Music­ke is a tho­rough lute met­hod, writ­ten in the form of a dia­lo­gue ‘bet­ween a Knight, having chil­dren to be taught, and Timot­heus, who should teach them’. The music that follows is all by Robin­son him­self, and inclu­des some pie­ces for two lutes as well as fan­ta­sias, dan­ces and set­tings of popu­lar tunes for solo lute.

The last English ins­truc­tion book for the Renais­san­ce lute was Robert Dowland’s Varie­tie of Lute-Les­sons (1610), com­pri­sing a trans­la­tion of the ins­truc­tions from Besard’s The­sau­rus har­mo­ni­cus (1603) and other obser­va­tions on lute pla­ying, by John Dow­land. The­se are the only words on the sub­ject that John Dow­land left, des­pi­te refe­ren­ces to ‘my father’s grea­ter work’ in Robert Dowland’s other publi­ca­tion of the same year, the song­book A Musi­call Ban­quet. The Varie­tie con­tains a selec­tion of fan­ta­sias, pavans, galliards, almains, currants and vol­tes (by English and con­ti­nen­tal com­po­sers) which must surely have been collec­ted ori­gi­nally by John Dow­land on his Euro­pean tra­vels.

The­se books, toget­her with a con­si­de­rably lar­ger body of manus­cript collec­tions dating from about 1580 to about 1625, reveal music of the hig­hest qua­lity by com­po­sers such as John John­son (i), Fran­cis Cut­ting, Richard Alli­son, Daniel Bache­ler, Phi­lip Ros­se­ter, Robert John­son (ii), Alfon­so Ferra­bos­co (i) (who spent most of his time in England bet­ween about 1562 and 1578), and abo­ve all John Dow­land who­se inter­na­tio­nal fame at this time was uni­que among lute­nists.

Solo lute music cir­cu­la­ted mainly in manus­cript, but star­ting with Dowland’s First Boo­ke of Son­ges (1597) a series of song­books for voi­ce and lute was publis­hed in England – some 30 volu­mes ave­ra­ging about 20 songs apie­ce. The dura­tion of this vogue was only 25 years (the last collec­tion was John Attey’s First Boo­ke of Ayres of 1622) but it was res­pon­si­ble for some of the finest English songs of any period. A few of the com­po­sers also wro­te in the madri­gal sty­le, and a few also com­po­sed solo lute music; but in gene­ral the wri­ters of lute-songs in England kept almost enti­rely to that gen­re. Its appeal lay in a direc­tion other than that of madri­gals or solo lute music, for it entai­led a much more con­ci­se set­ting of the text than the for­mer, and had a less abs­tract emo­tio­nal effect than the lat­ter.

Many books of ayres were arran­ged so that they could be per­for­med eit­her as solo songs with lute and usually bass viol accom­pa­ni­ment, or as par­tsongs for four voi­ces with lute. The favou­ring of a sus­tai­ned bass line to balan­ce the melody in the voi­ce reflects the ten­dency to think in terms of a pola­ri­za­tion of har­mo­nic inter­est bet­ween tho­se two parts. Many collec­tions inclu­de lute parts as con­tra­pun­tal as the tex­tu­re of a madri­gal, but even­tually accom­pa­ni­ments sho­wed a ten­dency towards sim­pli­fi­ca­tion, with less imi­ta­ti­ve part-wri­ting and more straight­for­ward chor­dal struc­tu­re. Ulti­ma­tely this led to the ‘con­ti­nuo song’, whe­re only the melody and bass were writ­ten down and the lute­nist or theor­bo pla­yer was expec­ted to fill out the har­mo­nies accor­ding to cer­tain con­ven­tions known as the ‘rule of the octa­ve’. The par­tsong alter­na­ti­ve, star­ted by Dow­land in his First Boo­ke and ori­gi­nally inten­ded to appeal to a public eagerly immer­sed in madri­gal sin­ging, lent a cha­rac­te­ris­tic stamp to the English ayre that makes it qui­te dis­tinct from anyt­hing pro­du­ced on the Con­ti­nent. (For a modern edi­tion of some of Dowland’s music, see Collec­ted Lute Music, ed. D. Poul­ton and B. Lam, Lon­don, 1974, 3/1984.)

Anot­her English use of the lute was in the mixed con­sort of three melody ins­tru­ments (tre­ble viol, flu­te, bass viol) and three pluc­ked (lute, cit­tern, ban­do­ra), a grou­ping almost cer­tainly con­cei­ved ori­gi­nally as an accom­pa­ni­ment to a solo voi­ce somew­hat in the man­ner of the older songs with viols (see Con­sort, §2). The tre­ble viol, flu­te and bass viol pla­yed in three-part har­mony which, often incom­ple­te on its own, was filled in by the three pluc­ked ins­tru­ments. The cit­tern and ban­do­ra (both wire-strung) for­med the alto, tenor and deep bass, whi­le the lute had a dual role. Much of the music was in dan­ce forms, with repea­ted sec­tions, in the first of which the lute pla­yed chords; but in the repeats the lute pla­yed ela­bo­ra­te and rapid ‘divi­sions’, giving a sil­very, shim­me­ring qua­lity to the music. This tech­ni­que was known as ‘brea­king the ground in divi­sion’; hen­ce the expres­sion ‘bro­ken music’. The light tex­tu­re of the three melody ins­tru­ments allo­wed the lute pro­mi­nen­ce, whi­le the cit­tern and the deep ban­do­ra pro­vi­ded full­ness and body.

Prin­ted collec­tions of music for such a com­bi­na­tion inclu­de the First Boo­ke of Con­sort Les­sons edi­ted by Mor­ley in 1599 and reis­sued with addi­tio­nal pie­ces in 1611 (ed. S. Beck, 1959) and Phi­lip Rosseter’s 1609 edi­tion of Les­sons for Con­sort. No com­ple­te set of part­books has sur­vi­ved for any of the edi­tions. The­re are, howe­ver, two manus­cript collec­tions (the Matt­hew Hol­mes manus­cripts in GB-Cu and the Wal­sing­ham con­sort books in GB-BEV and US-OAm), both also incom­ple­te but who­se con­tents over­lap to some extent with tho­se of the prin­ted books. Part of William Leighton’s The Tea­res or Lamen­ta­cions of a Sorrow­full Sou­le (1614) is devo­ted to ‘con­sort songs’ set for four voi­ces with the same six ins­tru­ments.

With the deve­lop­ment of the Jaco­bean and Caro­li­ne mas­que, lar­ger groups of ins­tru­ments began to appear. In Ben Jonson’s Obe­ron (1611) ‘20 lutes for the Prince’s dan­ce’ were requi­red, and the des­crip­tion of Love freed from Igno­ran­ce (1611) tells of the entran­ce of ‘12 Musi­tions that were prees­tes that son­ge and pla­yed’ and ‘12 other lutes’. The theor­bo, said to have been intro­du­ced into England by Ini­go Jones in 1605, soon found its way into favour in the­se enter­tain­ments. In James Shirley’s mas­que, The Triumph of Pea­ce (1634), as many as seven lutes and ten theor­bos were used.

Soon after the death of John Dow­land in 1626, howe­ver, the English school of lute­nist-com­po­sers decli­ned. For some time the popu­la­rity of the lute had been overs­ha­do­wed by that of the lyra viol, which was now cul­ti­va­ted by tho­se ama­teurs who were also avid pla­yers of ensem­ble music for viols. With the coming of Char­les I’s wife, Queen Hen­riet­ta Maria, and her ento­ura­ge from Fran­ce, a fas­hion grew up at court for all things French. The famous lute­nist Jac­ques Gau­tier arri­ved from Paris with the Duke of Buc­king­ham in 1617, was appoin­ted to the court in 1619 and soon beca­me popu­lar in Lon­don, whe­re he ente­red the lite­rary cir­cles of wri­ters such as John Don­ne.

An inter­es­ting English manus­cript span­ning the chan­ge from the ‘old’ lute music of the Eli­za­bet­han and Jaco­bean com­po­sers to that of the new French sty­le was com­pi­led by Lord Her­bert of Cher­bury. It inclu­des music by Dow­land, Ros­se­ter, Hol­bor­ne and other such com­po­sers, along with that of Gau­tier and some com­po­si­tions of Cher­bury him­self, the latest dated 1640. Also repre­sen­ted in this manus­cript is Cuth­bert Hely, who is other­wi­se vir­tually unk­nown. His music is of asto­nis­hing inten­sity: firmly groun­ded in the ear­lier English tra­di­tion, it nonet­he­less explo­res pre­viously untried har­mo­nic terri­tory. Cher­bury retai­ned the ‘old’ tuning of the main six cour­ses des­pi­te his inter­est in the new music and the French lute, but the new tunings are in evi­den­ce in other manus­cripts, such as the lat­ter part of Jane Pickering’s Lute­book whe­re com­po­si­tions by John Law­ren­ce (d c1635) and Gau­tier demons­tra­te the ‘Har­pe way’, ‘flat way’ and ‘tuning Gau­tier’.

With a few excep­tions, such as the solos and duos by William Lawes, of which only three pie­ces sur­vi­ve, and the lar­ge quan­tity of (lost) lute music said to have been com­po­sed by John Jen­kins, little music of any great value was writ­ten for the lute by English com­po­sers up to the time of the Civil War; but Lawes, using the theor­bo as tho­rough­bass in his ‘Royal’ and ‘Har­pe’ con­sorts, pro­du­ced some of the most dis­tin­guis­hed ins­tru­men­tal music of his time. During the Com­mon­wealth and at the Res­to­ra­tion, trio sona­tas con­ti­nued to appear for viols or vio­lins with the theor­bo spe­ci­fied as a sui­ta­ble con­ti­nuo. A set of 30 unna­med pie­ces for solo lute or theor­bo by John Wil­son (1595–1674) is of outs­tan­ding inter­est. The pie­ces are in a dis­tin­cti­ve impro­vi­sa­tory pre­lu­dial sty­le and sys­te­ma­ti­cally cover all 24 major and minor keys, with tuning indi­ca­tions to match. Such a sche­me was only pos­si­ble on the lute, who­se tabla­tu­re was unaf­fec­ted by aspects such as enhar­mo­nic spe­llings and ‘dou­ble’ acci­den­tals, which would have cau­sed great pro­blems in the staff nota­tion of the time.

Meanw­hi­le, the French lute and music by French com­po­sers began to enjoy con­si­de­ra­ble popu­la­rity, alt­hough the con­tents of Richard Mathew’s The Lute’s Apo­logy for Her Exce­llency (which he clai­med was the first prin­ted book for the French lute to appear in England) fall well below the stan­dard of exce­llen­ce main­tai­ned in such manus­cript collec­tions as the Hen­der Robarts Lute­book, the Mary Bur­well Lute Tutor (GB-Lam) and the Pan­mu­re Lute­book (GB-En). The­se collec­tions, all com­pi­led by, or under the super­vi­sion of, lute­nists from Paris, show that the works of the Gaul­tiers, Vin­cent, Pinel and other dis­tin­guis­hed French com­po­sers were fami­liar to English and Scot­tish pla­yers of the second half of the 17th cen­tury. An early 18th-cen­tury reper­tory for the French lute in Scotland is found in the Bal­ca­rres Lute­book, who­se appro­xi­ma­tely 200 pie­ces con­sist of dan­ce-tunes (often arran­ged from fidd­le ver­sions) and inta­bu­la­tions of Scot­tish melo­dies and well-known English songs such as ‘Lilli­bu­le­ro’ and ‘The King Enjoys his Own Again’, as well as a few French lute pie­ces.

The last great figu­re in the his­tory of the lute in England was Mace, who­se Musick’s Monu­ment con­tains the most tho­rough extant set of ins­truc­tions for the French lute, as well as some appea­ling music. He dis­cus­sed tech­ni­que, orna­men­ta­tion, pla­ying sty­le, strin­ging, tuning, care of the ins­tru­ment and many aspects of its his­tory. The sec­tion on the theor­bo is also valua­ble.

As a con­ti­nuo ins­tru­ment, par­ti­cu­larly in accom­pan­ying the voi­ce, the theor­bo was impor­tant throug­hout the 17th cen­tury and well into the first half of the 18th. The theor­bo or theor­bo-lute is men­tio­ned on the title-pages of many volu­mes ran­ging from Ange­lo Notari’s Pri­me musi­che nuo­ve (Lon­don, c1613) through most of Playford’s song­books to Purcell’s Orp­heus Bri­tan­ni­cus (1698–1702), John Blow’s Amp­hion Angli­cus (1700) and John Eccles’s Songs for One, Two and Three Voi­ces (1704). Wal­ter Por­ter inclu­ded both lutes and theor­bos among the accom­pan­ying ins­tru­ments of the con­sort in his Madri­ga­les and Ayres (1632).

The lute and theor­bo were used by Han­del in a num­ber of his ope­ras and other works, both as con­ti­nuo and as obbli­ga­to in cer­tain arias, such as ‘The soft com­plai­ning flu­te’ in his Ode for St Cecilia’s Day (1739). Pla­yers of the ins­tru­ment were beco­ming rare, howe­ver, and Handel’s occa­sio­nal use of it was usually due to the pre­sen­ce of a visi­ting vir­tuo­so pla­yer, such as Car­lo Arri­go­ni (in Lon­don bet­ween 1731 and 1736), who pla­yed in the Con­cer­to op.4 no.6, ori­gi­nally sco­red for ‘Lute, Harp and Lyri­chord’. Accor­ding to Bur­ney, the final appea­ran­ce of the lute in an ope­ra orches­tra in England was in the aria ‘Due bell’aline’ in Handel’s Dei­da­mia (1741).

Little more is heard of the lute in England in the 18th cen­tury, alt­hough the names of dis­tin­guis­hed foreign pla­yers are occa­sio­nally encoun­te­red in news­pa­per adver­ti­se­ments for con­certs; S.L. Weiss visi­ted Lon­don and gave a short series of con­certs in 1718. One pla­yer who settled in Lon­don was J.S. Bach’s for­mer pupil, Rudolf Strau­be, from whom Tho­mas Gains­bo­rough bought a lute and reques­ted les­sons in 1759. A manus­cript par­tially com­pi­led by Strau­be (GB-Lbl Add.31698) con­tains anno­ta­tions in a later hand sug­ges­ting that pie­ces from it were copied by a pla­yer of the ‘Theor­boe Lute’ up to the late date of 1813. Howe­ver, the ins­tru­ment men­tio­ned on a few title pages dating from about 1800 as the ‘lute’ was in fact the harp-lute, who­se music shows no dis­cer­ni­ble rela­tions­hip with the real lute. (For other modern edi­tions of English lute music see the series English Lute Songs, Lon­don, 1967–71, and Music for the Lute, ed. D. Lums­den, 1966–.)

BIBLIOGRAPHY

A Ancient and non-Euro­pean lutes. B Wes­tern lute, gene­ral. C Theo­re­ti­cal and peda­go­gi­cal. D Cons­truc­tion. E Nota­tion and tunings. F Reper­tory.

 

a: ancient and non-european lutes

  1. Sachs and E.M. von Horn­bos­tel: ‘Sys­te­ma­tik der Musi­kins­tru­men­te’, Zeits­chrift für Eth­no­lo­gie, xlvi (1914), 553–90 [Eng. trans. in GSJ, xiv (1961), 3–29; repr. in Eth­no­mu­si­co­logy: an Intro­duc­tion, ed. H. Myers (Lon­don, 1992), 444–61]
  2. Behn: ‘Die Lau­te im Alter­tum und frühen Mit­te­lal­ter’, ZMw, i (1918–19), 89–107
  3. Gei­rin­ger: ‘Vor­ges­chich­te und Ges­chich­te der euro­päis­chen Lau­te bis zum Beginn der Neu­zeit’, ZMw, x (1927–8), 560–603
  4. Pic­ken: ‘The Ori­gin of the Short Lute’, GSJ, viii (1955), 32–42
  5. Hick­mann: Ägy­pten, Musik­ges­chich­te in Bil­dern, ii/1 (Leip­zig, 1961)
  6. Stau­der: ‘Zur Früh­ges­chich­te der Lau­te’, Fes­ts­chrift Hel­muth Ost­hoff zum 65. Gebur­ts­tag, ed. L. Hoff­mann-Erbrecht and H. Huc­ke (Tutzing, 1961), 15–25
  7. Fleisch­hauer: Etru­rien und Rom, Musik­ges­chich­te in Bil­dern, ii/5 (Leip­zig, 1964, 2/1978)

R.A. Hig­gins and R.P. Win­ning­ton-Ingram: ‘Lute-Pla­yers in Greek Art’, Jour­nal of Helle­nic Stu­dies, lxxxv (1965), 62–71

  1. Turn­bull: ‘The Ori­gin of the Long-Nec­ked Lute’, GSJ, xxv (1972), 58–66
  2. Man­ni­che: Ancient Egy­ptian Musi­cal Ins­tru­ments (Munich, 1975)
  3. Mar­cu­se: A Sur­vey of Musi­cal Ins­tru­ments (Lon­don, 1975), 406ff
  4. Pic­ken: Folk Musi­cal Ins­tru­ments of Tur­key (Lon­don, 1975), 261ff, 583
  5. Zie­gler: Les ins­tru­ments de musi­que égy­ptiens au musée du Lou­vre (Paris, 1979)
  6. Maas and J. Sny­der: Strin­ged Ins­tru­ments of Ancient Gree­ce (New Haven, CT, 1989)

b: western lute, general

Lüt­gen­dorffGL

Van­ne­sE

  1. Bre­net: ‘Notes sur l’histoire du luth en Fran­ce’, RMI, v (1898), 637–76; vi (1899), 1–44; pubd sepa­ra­tely (Turin, 1899/R)
  2. Kör­te: Lau­te und Lau­ten­mu­sik bis zur Mit­te des 16. Jahr­hun­derts (Leip­zig, 1901/R)
  3. Doning­ton: ‘VI: Pluc­ked Strings: IB, 1: The Family of Lutes’, The Ins­tru­ments of Music (Lon­don, 1949, 3/1970)
  4. Bai­nes: ‘Fif­teenth-Cen­tury Ins­tru­ments in Tinctoris’s De inven­tio­ne et usu musi­cae’, GSJ, iii (1950), 19–26
  5. Diser­to­ri: ‘Remar­ques sur l’évolution du luth en Ita­lie au XVe siè­cle et au XVIe’, Le luth et sa musi­que: Neuilly-sur-Sei­ne 1957, 19–24
  6. Gill: ‘The Eli­za­bet­han Lute’, GSJ, xii (1959), 60–62

LSJ (1959–) [rena­med The Lute in 1982]

  1. Hayes: ‘Musi­cal Ins­tru­ments: Man­do­ra and Lute’, Ars Nova and the Renais­san­ce, 1300–1540, NOHM, iii (1960/R), 487–8

A.L. Lloyd: ‘The Ruma­nian Cob­za’, LSJ, ii (1960), 13–16

  1. Morrow and M. Grau­bart: ‘Lutes and Theor­boes: their Use as Con­ti­nuo Ins­tru­ments des­cri­bed by Michael Prae­to­rius in his Syn­tag­ma musi­cum’, LSJ, ii (1960), 26–32

M.W. Pryn­ne: ‘James Talbot’s Manus­cript, IV: Pluc­ked Strings – the Lute Family’, GSJ, xiv (1961), 52–68

M.W. Pryn­ne: ‘Some Remarks on Lute For­ge­ries’, LSJ, iii (1961), 17–21

M.W. Pryn­ne: ‘The Fret­ted Ins­tru­ments, I: the Lute’, Musi­cal Ins­tru­ments through the Ages, ed. A. Bai­nes (Har­monds­worth, 1961/R, 2/1966/R)

M.W. Pryn­ne: ‘The Old Bolog­na Lute-Makers’, LSJ, v (1963), 18–31

  1. Rad­ke: ‘Wodurch unters­chei­den sich Lau­te und Theor­be’, AcM, xxx­vii (1965), 73–4
  2. Jac­quot and A. Sou­ris, eds.: Tho­mas Mace: Musick’s Monu­ment, ii: Com­men­tai­re et trans­crip­tions (Paris, 1966)

R.G. Camp­bell: Zur Typo­lo­gie der Scha­len­lang­hals­lau­te (Stras­bourg, 1968)

  1. Cer­ve­lli: ‘Bre­vi noti sui liu­tai tedes­chi atti­vi in Ita­lia dal seco­lo XVIo al XVIIIo’, AnMc, no.5 (1968), 299–337

JLSA (1968–)

  1. Pohl­mann: Lau­te, Theor­be, Chi­ta­rro­ne: die Ins­tru­men­te, ihre Musik und Lite­ra­tur von 1500 bis zur Gegen­wart (Bre­men, 1968, enlar­ged 5/1982)
  2. Hell­wig: ‘Makers’ Marks on Pluc­ked Ins­tru­ments of the 16th and 17th Cen­tu­ries’, GSJ, xxiv (1971), 22–32
  3. Tonaz­zi: Liu­to, vihue­la, chi­ta­rra e stru­men­ti simi­la­ri nelle loro inta­vo­la­tu­ra: con cen­ni sulle loro let­te­ra­tu­re (Milan, 1971, 2/1974)
  4. Rad­ke: ‘Theor­bier­te Lau­te (liu­to attior­ba­to) und Erz­lau­te (arci­liu­to)’, Mf, xxv (1972), 481–4
  5. Hell­wig: ‘Zur Ter­mi­no­lo­gie der euro­päis­chen Zup­fins­tru­men­te: das Voka­bu­la­rium in den Que­llen zum his­to­ris­chen Lau­ten­bau’, Fes­ts­chrift für Ernst Ems­hei­mer, ed. G. Hilles­tröm (Stock­holm, 1974), 81–6

FoMR­HI Quar­terly (1975–)

  1. Har­wood and M. Pryn­ne: A Brief His­tory of the Lute (Rich­mond, 1975)
  2. Saf­fle: ‘Lute and Rela­ted Ins­tru­ments in Eight Impor­tant Euro­pean and Ame­ri­can Collec­tions’, JLSA, viii (1975), 22–48; ix (1976), 43–61
  3. Gill: Gut-Strung Pluc­ked Ins­tru­ments Con­tem­po­rary with the Lute (Rich­mond, 1976)
  4. Lowe: ‘The His­to­ri­cal Deve­lop­ment of the Lute in the 17th Cen­tury’, GSJ, xxix (1976), 11–25
  5. Spen­cer: ‘Chi­ta­rro­ne, Theor­bo and Archlu­te’, EMc, iv (1976), 407–23
  6. Abbott and E. Seger­man: ‘The Names, String-Lengths and Pitch-Stan­dards of Exten­ded-Neck Lutes of the 17th Cen­tury’, FoMR­HI Quar­terly, no.7 (1977), 26–32

H.M. Brown: ‘Tre­cen­to Angels and the Ins­tru­ments they Play’, Modern Musi­cal Scho­lars­hip: Oxford 1977, 112–40

  1. Poul­ton: ‘The Lute in Chris­tian Spain’, LSJ, xix (1977), 34–49

W.B. Sam­son: ‘The Twel­ve-Cour­se “English Lute”’, LSJ, xix (1977), 50–53

  1. Wright: ‘The Medie­val Git­tern and Cito­le: a Case of Mis­ta­ken Iden­tity’, GSJ, xxx (1977), 8–42
  2. Blets­cha­cher: Die Lau­ten- und Gei­gen­ma­cher des Füs­se­ner Lan­des (Hof­heim am Tau­nus, 1978)
  3. Dow­ning: ‘The Maler and Frei Lutes: some Obser­va­tions’, FoMR­HI Quar­terly, no.11 (1978), 60–64
  4. Layer: Die All­gäuer Lau­ten- und Gei­gen­ma­cher (Augs­burg, 1978)

D.B. Lyons: Lute, Vihue­la, Gui­tar to 1800: a Biblio­graphy (Detroit, 1978)

  1. Päff­gen: Lau­te und Lau­tens­piel in der ers­ten Häl­fte des 16. Jahr­hun­derts (Regens­burg, 1978)

D.A. Smith: ‘The Lutes in the Bava­rian Natio­nal Museum in Munich’, JLSA, xi (1978), 36–44

  1. Beier: ‘Right Hand Posi­tion in Renais­san­ce Lute Tech­ni­que’, JLSA, xii (1979), 5–24

Gita­rre & Lau­te (Kas­sel, 1979– )

  1. Grif­fiths: ‘Lutes in the Museo Muni­ci­pal de Músi­ca in Bar­ce­lo­na’, JLSA, xii (1979), 48–66
  2. Hell­wig: ‘Die Lau­te­nins­tru­men­te im Ger­ma­nis­chen Natio­nal­mu­seum in Nürn­berg’, Gita­rre & Lau­te, i/6 (1979), 6, 8–15
  3. Kli­ma: ‘The D minor Lute in Cen­tral Euro­pe after the Second World War’, JLSA, xii (1979), 73–7
  4. Ragoss­nig: Hand­buch der Gita­rre und Lau­te (Mainz, 1979)
  5. Rott­mann: ‘The Resu­rrec­tion of the Lute in Twen­tieth Cen­tury Ger­many’, JLSA, xii (1979), 67–72
  6. and E. Seger­man: ‘On Baro­que Lute Strin­ging and Tunings’, FoMR­HI Quar­terly, no.16 (1979), 26–33
  7. Abon­dan­ce: ‘L’apport de l’iconographie la con­nais­san­ce du luth’, Le luth et sa musi­que II: Tours 1980, 139–56
  8. Hell­wig: Joa­chim Tiel­ke, eine Ham­bur­ger Lau­ten- und Vio­len­ma­cher der Barock­zeit (Frank­furt, 1980)
  9. Hey­de and P. Liersch: ‘Stu­dien zum säch­sis­chen Musi­kins­tru­men­ten­bau des 16./17. Jahr­hun­derts’, Jb Peters, ii (1980), 231–59
  10. Rad­ke: ‘Zur Spiel­tech­nik der deu­ts­chen Lau­te­nis­ten des 16. Jahr­hun­derts’, AcM, lii (1980), 134–47

D.A. Smith: ‘The Musi­cal Ins­tru­ment Inven­tory of Ray­mund Fug­ger’, GSJ, xxxiii (1980), 36–44

  1. Har­wood: ‘A Case of Dou­ble Stan­dards? Ins­tru­men­tal Pitch in England c1600’, EMc, ix (1981), 470–81
  2. Hell­wig: ‘The Morp­ho­logy of Lutes with Exten­ded Necks’, EMc, ix (1981), 447–54
  3. Gill: ‘Man­do­res and Cola­chons’, GSJ, xxxiv (1981), 130–41
  4. Page: ‘The 15th-Cen­tury Lute: New and Neglec­ted Sour­ces’, EMc, ix (1981), 11–21
  5. Spen­cer: ‘Lute and Gui­tar’, How Music Works, ed. K. Spen­ce and G. Sway­ne (New York and Lon­don, 1981), 79–92
  6. Ferra­ris: ‘Liu­to, arci­liu­to, chi­ta­rro­ne, stru­men­ti dell’età baroc­ca in Ita­lia’, Il ‘Fro­ni­mo’, xxxix (1982), 11–18
  7. Page: ‘Ger­man Musi­cians and their Ins­tru­ments’, EMc, x (1982), 192–200

J.M. Ward: ‘Chan­ging the Ins­tru­ment for the Music’, JLSA, xv (1982), 27–39

  1. Dugot: ‘Des­crip­tion des luths de musée ins­tru­men­tal du C.N.S.M.’, Musi­que ancien­ne, xix (1985), 78–84
  2. Dugot: ‘Some Lutes in Paris Museums’, JLSA, xvi (1983), 27–56; xvii–xviii (1984–85), 53–105
  3. Ros­si: Il liu­to a Vene­zia dal Rinas­ci­men­to al Baroc­co (Veni­ce, 1983)
  4. Tof­fo­lo: ‘The Cor­po­ra­tion of Lute-Makers in Veni­ce: His­to­ri­cal Aspects’, The Lute, xxiii (1983), 29–32
  5. Young: ‘Zur Klas­si­fi­ca­tion und iko­no­grap­his­chen Inter­pre­ta­tion mit­te­lal­ter­li­cher Zup­fins­tru­men­te’, Bas­ler Jb für his­to­ris­che Musik­pra­xis, viii (1984), 67–104
  6. Getreau: ‘The Lute Collec­tion of the Paris Museum of Musi­cal Ins­tru­ments: its Cha­rac­ter, For­ma­tion and Deve­lop­ment’, JLSA, xvii–xviii (1984–5), 50–52
  7. Cris­to­fo­ret­ti: ‘Les Pic­ci­ni­ni et l’évolution orga­no­lo­gi­que du luth à la fin du XVIe siè­cle’, Musi­que ancien­ne, xix (1985), 4–19
  8. Gon­za­les Mar­cos: ‘Les luths du Museu de la Músi­ca de Bar­ce­lo­na’, Musi­que ancien­ne, xvi–xvii (1983), 22–73; xix (1985), 62–77
  9. Howell: ‘Ramos de Pareja’s Brief Dis­cus­sion of Various Ins­tru­ments’, JAMIS, xi (1985), 14–37
  10. North: Con­ti­nuo Pla­ying on the Lute, Archlu­te and Theor­bo (Lon­don, 1985)

P.L. Pola­to: ‘Liu­tai vene­zia­ni nei seco­li XVI, XVII e XVIII: ricer­ca docu­men­ta­ria nell’Archivio di Sta­to di Vene­zia’, Flau­to dol­ce, no.12 (1985), 6–15

  1. Tof­fo­lo and M.P. Peda­ni: ‘Una fami­glia di liu­tai tedes­chi a Vene­zia: I Tief­fen­bruc­ker’, Il ‘Fro­ni­mo’, xiii (1985), 56–62
  2. Gill: ‘Alter­na­ti­ve Lutes: the Iden­tity of 18th-Cen­tury Man­do­res and Galli­cho­nes’, The Lute, xxvi (1986), 51–62
  3. Hey­de: Musi­kins­tru­men­ten­bau im 15.–19. Jahr­hun­dert: Kunst, Hand­werk, Ent­wurf (Wies­ba­den, 1986)

Lute Sym­po­sium: Utrecht 1986 [incl. M. Lowe: ‘Renais­san­ce and Baro­que Lutes: a Fal­se Dicho­tomy: Obser­va­tions on the Lute in the Seven­teenth Cen­tury’, 124–39]

  1. Wats­chorn: ‘Eini­ge bau- und spiel­tech­nis­che Aspek­te der “Baroc­klau­te” anhand zeit­ge­nös­sis­cher Bes­chrei­bun­gen, Iko­no­grap­hien und vor­han­de­ner Ins­tru­men­te’, Zupf- und Schla­gins­tru­men­te des 17. und 18. Jahr­hun­derts: Blan­ken­burg, Harz, 1986, 33–47
  2. Tof­fo­lo: Anti­chi stru­men­ti vene­zia­ni 1500–1800: quat­tro seco­li di liute­ria e cem­ba­la­ria (Veni­ce, 1987)
  3. Poul­ton: ‘The Early His­tory of the Lute’, JLSA, xx–xxi (1987–8), 1–21
  4. Bolli­ni: ‘L’attività liu­tis­ti­ca a Milano dal 1450 al 1550: nuo­vi docu­men­ti’, Il ‘Fro­ni­mo’, xvi (1988), 9–23
  5. Mas­sip: ‘Fac­teurs d’instrument et maî­tres à dan­ser pari­siens au XVIIe siè­cle’, Ins­tru­men­tis­tes et lut­hiers pari­siens: XVIIe–XIXe siè­cles, ed. F. Getreau and B. de Andia (Paris, 1988), 17–34
  6. Mina­mino: Six­teenth-Cen­tury Lute Trea­ti­ses with Emp­ha­sis on Pro­cess and Tech­ni­ques of Inta­bu­la­tion (diss., U. of Chica­go, 1988)
  7. Pavan: ‘Liu­tis­ti iti­ne­ra­ti e rap­por­ti cul­tu­ra­li fra le cor­ti ita­lia­ne del pri­mo Cin­que­cen­to’, Il ‘Fro­ni­mo’, xvii (1989), 42–53
  8. Coro­na-Alcal­de: ‘The Vihue­la and the Gui­tar in Six­teenth-Cen­tury Spain: a Cri­ti­cal Apprai­sal of some of the Exis­ting Evi­den­ce’, The Lute, xxx (1990), 3–24
  9. Tof­fo­lo: ‘Sul rap­por­to tra liute­ria e ico­no­gra­fia in area vene­to-lom­bar­da tra Cin­que e Sei­cen­to’, Liute­ria e musi­ca stru­men­ta­le a Bres­cia tra Cin­que e Sei­cen­to: Salò 1990, 45–61
  10. Mar­tius and K. Schul­ze: ‘Ernst Busch und Paul Hiltz: zwei Nürn­ber­ger Lau­ten- und Vio­len­ma­cher der Barock­zeit’, Anzei­gen des Ger­ma­nis­chen Natio­nal­mu­seums (1991), 145–83

G.M. Onga­ro: ‘The Tief­fen­bruc­kers and the Busi­ness of Lute-Making in Six­teenth-Cen­tury Veni­ce’, GSJ, xliv (1991), 46–54

  1. Lund­berg: ‘In Tune with the Uni­ver­se: the Phy­sics and Metaphy­sics of Galileo’s Lute’, Music and Scien­ce in the Age of Gali­leo, ed. V.A. Coel­ho (Dor­drecht, 1992), 211–39
  2. Sage: ‘A New Look at Huma­nism in 16th-Cen­tury Lute and Vihue­la Books’, EMc, xx (1992), 633–41
  3. Neu­bauer: ‘Der Bau der Lau­te und ihre Besai­tung nach ara­bis­chen, per­sis­chen und tür­kis­chen Que­llen des 9. bis 15. Jahr­hun­derts’, Zeits­chrift für Ges­chich­te der ara­bisch-isla­mis­chen Wis­sens­chaf­ten, viii (1993), 279–378
  4. Tof­fo­lo: ‘Sui liu­tai tedes­chi a Vene­zia nel Cin­que e Sei­cen­to e sui rap­por­ti tra liute­ria tedes­ca e pit­tu­ra Vene­zia­na’, Vene­dig und Ober­deuts­chlang in der Renais­san­ce, Stu­di, ix (Sig­ma­rin­gen, 1993), 197–205
  5. Forres­ter: ‘An Eli­za­bet­han Alle­gory and some Hypot­he­ses’, The Lute, xxxiv (1994), 11–14
  6. Meyer: ‘Eine Lau­ten-Unter­wei­sung aus dem spä­ten 15. Jahr­hun­dert’, Musik in Bayern, no.49 (1994), 25–33
  7. Bur­zik: Que­llens­tu­dien zu euro­päis­chen Zup­fins­tru­men­ten­for­men (Kas­sel, 1995)
  8. Court: ‘Renais­san­ce Ins­tru­men­tal Ensem­bles: the Role of the Lute in Six­teenth-Cen­tury Con­sorts – Evi­den­ce from Terzi’s Inta­bu­la­tions’, Per­for­man­ce Prac­ti­ce Review, viii (1995), 147–70
  9. Király: A lant­já­ték Mag­ya­rors­zá­gon a XV. szá­zad­tól a XVII. szá­zad köze­péig [Lute pla­ying in Hun­gary from the 15th cen­tury until the mid-17th cen­tury] (Buda­pest, 1995) [with Ger. sum­mary]
  10. Say­ce: ‘Con­ti­nuo Lutes in 17th and 18th-Cen­tury England’, EMc, xxiii (1995), 666–84
  11. Van Edwards: ‘Talbot’s English Theor­bo Recon­si­de­red’, FoMR­HI Quar­terly, no.78 (1995), 32–3
  12. Mar­tius: Leo­pold Wid­halm und der Nürn­ber­ger Lau­ten- und Gei­gen­bau im 18. Jahr­hun­dert (Frank­furt, 1996)

V.A. Coel­ho, ed.: Per­for­man­ce on Lute, Gui­tar and Vihue­la: His­to­ri­cal Prac­ti­ce and Modern Inter­pre­ta­tion (Cam­brid­ge, 1997)

Die Lau­te (1998–)

  1. Pas­qual and R. Regaz­zi: Le radi­ci del suc­ces­so della liute­ria a Bolog­na (Bolog­na, 1998)

Acous­ti­que et ins­tru­ments anciens: Paris 1998

D.A. Smith: His­tory of the Lute from Anti­quity to the Renais­san­ce (forth­co­ming)

c: theoretical and pedagogical

Mer­sen­neHU

Prae­to­riusSM, ii

Vir­dungMG

  1. Arnaut de Zwo­lle: Trea­ti­se (MS, c1440; F-Pn lat.7295); facs., Fr. trans. and com­men­tary in G. Le Cerf and E.-R. Laban­de: Ins­tru­ments de musi­que du XVe siè­cle (Paris, 1932/R)
  2. Tin­cto­ris: De inven­tio­ne et usu musi­cae (Naples, c1481–3); ed. K. Wein­mann (Regens­burg, 1917, rev. 2/1961 by W. Fis­cher)
  3. Ger­le: Musi­ca teusch (Nurem­berg, 1532/R, rev. 3/1546/R as Musi­ca und Tabu­la­tur)
  4. Ber­mu­do: Decla­ra­ción de ins­tru­men­tos musi­ca­les (Osu­na, 1555/R)

J.-B. Besard: The­sau­rus har­mo­ni­cus (Colog­ne, 1603/R; Eng. trans. of appx in R. Dow­land: Varie­tie of Lute-Les­sons, 1610)

  1. Robin­son: The Schoo­le of Music­ke (Lon­don, 1603/R); ed. in CM (1971)
  2. Dow­land: Varie­tie of Lute-Les­sons (Lon­don, 1610/R) [incl. sec­tion by J. Dow­land, and Eng. trans. of appx to J.-B. Besard: The­sau­rus har­mo­ni­cus, 1603]
  3. Mace: Musick’s Monu­ment (Lon­don, 1676/R)

E.G. Baron: His­to­risch-theo­re­tisch und prac­tis­che Unter­su­chung des Ins­tru­ments der Lau­ten (Nurem­berg, 1727/R; Eng. trans., 1976, as Study of the Lute)

  1. Sout­hard and S. Cooper: ‘A Trans­la­tion of Hans Newsidler’s Ein New­geor­dent künstlich Lau­ten­buch’, JLSA, xi (1978), 5–25

d: construction

  1. Har­wood: ‘A Fif­teenth-Cen­tury Lute Design’, LSJ, ii (1960), 3–8

M.W. Pryn­ne: ‘Lute Bellies and Barring’, LSJ, vi (1964), 7–12

  1. Hell­wig: ‘On the Cons­truc­tion of the Lute Belly’, GSJ, xxi (1968), 129–45
  2. Hell­wig: ‘An Exam­ple of Lute Res­to­ra­tion’, GSJ, xxiii (1970), 64–8
  3. Edwards: ‘A Geo­me­tri­cal Cons­truc­tion for a Lute Pro­fi­le’, LSJ, xv (1973), 48–9
  4. Abbott and E. Seger­man: ‘Strings in the 16th and 17th Cen­tu­ries’, GSJ, xxvii (1974), 48–73
  5. Hell­wig: ‘Lute Cons­truc­tion in the Renais­san­ce and the Baro­que’, GSJ, xxvii (1974), 21–30
  6. Hell­wig: ‘Lute-Making in the Late 15th and the 16th Cen­tury’, LSJ, xvi (1974), 24–38
  7. Lund­berg: ‘Six­teenth- and Seven­teenth-Cen­tury Lute-Making’, JLSA, vii (1974), 31–50
  8. Abbott and E. Seger­man: ‘On Lute Brid­ges and Frets’, EMc, iii (1975), 295 only
  9. Abbott and E. Seger­man: ‘Gut Strings’, EMc, iv (1976), 430–37
  10. Abbott and E. Seger­man: ‘The Geo­me­tric Des­crip­tion and Analy­sis of Ins­tru­ment Sha­pes’, FoMR­HI Quar­terly, no.2 (1976), 7–13
  11. Dow­ning: ‘Lute Brid­ges and Frets’, EMc, iv (1976), 365–7
  12. Firth: ‘Acous­ti­cal Expe­ri­ments on the Lute Belly’, GSJ, xxx (1977), 56–63
  13. Bou­ter­se: ‘Recons­truc­ting the Medie­val Ara­bic Lute’, GSJ, xxxii (1979), 2–9
  14. Lowe: ‘An Assess­ment of the Pro­gress of Twen­tieth-Cen­tury Lute-Making, with Sug­ges­tions for Futu­re Deve­lop­ment’, Le luth et sa musi­que II: Tours 1980, 157–62
  15. Söh­ne: ‘On the Geo­metry of the Lute’, JLSA, xiii (1980), 35–54
  16. Sam­son: ‘Lute Outli­nes: a Prag­ma­tic Approach to Geo­me­tri­cal Des­crip­tion’, FoMR­HI Quar­terly, no.25 (1981), 35–8

R.H. Wells: ‘Num­ber Sym­bo­lism in the Renais­san­ce Lute Rose’, EMc, ix (1981), 32–42

  1. Bar­ber: ‘Making Lute Moulds’, The Lute, xxii (1982), 21–3
  2. Coates: Geo­metry, Pro­por­tion and the Art of Lut­he­rie (Oxford, 1985)
  3. Dugot: ‘La fac­tu­re du luth’, La fac­tu­re ins­tru­men­ta­le euro­péen­ne: supré­ma­ties natio­na­les et enri­chès­se­ment mutuel, Musée ins­tru­men­tal du Con­ser­va­toi­re natio­nal supé­rieur de musi­que de Paris, 6 Nov 1985 – 1 March 1986 (Paris, 1985), 35–51 [exhi­bi­tion cata­lo­gue]
  4. Edwards: ‘Gut Strings and Angled Brid­ges’, The Lute, xxv (1985), 17–28

Lute Sym­po­sium: Utrecht 1986 [incl. R. Nur­se: ‘Design and Struc­tu­ral Deve­lop­ment of the Lute in the Renais­san­ce’, 101–12; J. Dugot: ‘Some Aspects of the Cons­truc­tion of Archlu­tes and Theor­boes in Veni­ce (ca. 1600–1650)’, 113–23]

  1. Lund­berg: ‘His­to­ri­cal Lute Cons­truc­tion: the Erlan­gen Lec­tu­res’, Ame­ri­can Lut­he­rie, no.19 (1989), 6–19; no.20 (1989), 40–53; no.21 (1990), 16–29; no.22 (1990), 20–27; no.23 (1990), 42–53; no.24 (1990), 40–53; no.28 (1991), 8–17; no.29 (1992), 10–19; no.30 (1992), 28–39; no.31 (1992), 46–54; no.35 (1993), 34–43; no.36 (1993), 32–8; no.37 (1994), 32–8; no.38 (1994), 8–17
  2. Peruf­fo: ‘New Hypot­he­sis on the Cons­truc­tion of Bass Strings for Lutes and other Gut-String Ins­tru­ments’, FoMR­HI Quar­terly, no.62 (1991), 22–36
  3. Seger­man: ‘The Size of the English 12-Cour­se Lute’, FoMR­HI Quar­terly, no.92 (1998), 31–2

e: notation and tunings

  1. Apel: The Nota­tion of Polyp­ho­nic Music, 900‑1600 (Cam­brid­ge, MA, 1942, 5/1961; Ger. trans., rev., 1970)
  2. Hayes: ‘Ins­tru­ments and Ins­tru­men­tal Nota­tion: the Lute’, The Age of Huma­nism, 1540–1630, NOHM, iv (1968), 709–83, esp. 721ff
  3. Ticho­ta: ‘Inta­bu­la­tio­nen und tsche­chis­cher Gemeins­chafts­ge­sang an der Wen­de des 16. Jahr­hun­derts’, Musi­ca bohe­mi­ca et euro­paea: Brno V 1970, 63–9

H.M. Brown: ‘Embe­llish­ment in Early Six­teenth-Cen­tury Ita­lian Inta­bu­la­tions’, PRMA, c (1973–4), 49–83

  1. Poul­ton: ‘Gra­ces of Play in Renais­san­ce Lute Music’, EMc, iii (1975), 107–14
  2. Lind­ley: ‘Luis Milan and Mean­to­ne Tem­pe­ra­ment’, JLSA, xi (1978), 45–62
  3. Char­nas­sé: ‘Trans­krip­tion deu­ts­ches Lau­ten­ta­bu­la­tu­ren par Com­pu­ter’, Gita­rre & Lau­te, i/4 (1979), 16–23
  4. Boet­ti­cher: ‘Zum Pro­blem der ältes­ten hands­chriftlich über­lie­fer­ten Lau­ten­ta­bu­la­tu­ren’, Ars musi­ca, musi­ca scien­tia: Fes­ts­chrift Hein­rich Hüs­chen, ed. D. Alten­burg (Colog­ne, 1980), 61–5

Le luth et sa musi­que II: Tours 1980 [incl. J. Ticho­ta: ‘Pro­blè­mes d’édition des tabla­tu­res de rédac­tion défec­tueu­se’, 43–58; H.M. Brown: ‘La Musi­ca Fic­ta dans les mises en tabla­tu­res d’Albert de Rip­pe et Adrian Le Roy’, 163–82]

  1. Söh­ne: ‘Regel­mäs­si­ge Tem­pe­ra­tu­ren auf der Lau­te’, Gita­rre & Lau­te, iv (1982), 98–91

M.L. Göll­ner: ‘On the Pro­cess of Lute Inta­bu­la­tion in the Six­teenth Cen­tury’, Ars iocun­dis­si­ma: Fes­ts­chrift für Kurt Dorf­mü­ller, ed. H. Leucht­mann and R. Müns­ter (Tutzing, 1984), 83–96

  1. Lind­ley: Lutes, Viols and Tem­pe­ra­ments (Cam­brid­ge, 1984)
  2. Mina­mino: ‘Trans­for­ma­tion in Inta­bu­la­tion’, JLSA, xvii–xviii (1984–5), 114–17

H.M. Brown: ‘The Impor­tan­ce of Six­teenth-Cen­tury Inta­bu­la­tions’, Lute Sym­po­sium: Utrecht 1986, 1–29

H.M. Brown: ‘Bos­si­nen­sis, Willaert, and Ver­de­lot: Pitch and the Con­ven­tions of Trans­cri­bing Music for Lute and Voi­ce in Italy in the Early Six­teenth Cen­tury’, RdM, lxxv (1989), 25–46

  1. Dry: Accords et fret­ta­ges du luth et de la vihue­la d’après quel­ques trai­tés des XVI et XVII siè­cles (Paris, 1989)
  2. Schul­ze-Kurz: Die Lau­te und ihre Stim­mun­gen in der ers­ten Häl­fte des 17 Jahr­hun­derts (Wil­sin­gen, 1990)
  3. Bue­tens: The Mea­ning and Per­for­man­ce of Orna­ment Signs in English Lute Tabla­tu­res (Men­lo Park, CA, 1991)
  4. Le Cocq: ‘The Pitch and Tuning in French Lute Song: 1603–1643’, The Lute, xxxii (1992), 46–71
  5. Tun­ley: ‘Tunings and Trans­po­si­tions in the Early 17th-Cen­tury French Lute Air’, EMc, xxi (1993), 203–11
  6. Shep­herd: ‘The Inter­pre­ta­tion of Signs for Gra­ces in English Lute Music’, The Lute, xxx­vi (1996), 37–84

f: repertory

  1. Koc­zirz: ‘Öste­rrei­chis­che Lau­ten­mu­sik zwis­chen 1650 und 1720’, SMw, v (1918), 49–96; also pubd as intro­duc­tion to DTÖ, 1, Jg.xxv/2 (1918/R)
  2. Som­mer: Lau­ten­trak­ta­te des 16. und 17. Jahr­hun­derts in Rah­men der deu­ts­chen und fran­zö­sis­chen Lau­ten­ta­bu­la­tur (diss., U. of Ber­lin, 1923)
  3. Koc­zirz: ‘Böh­mis­che Lau­ten­kunst um 1720’, Alt-Pra­ger Alma­nach (1926), 88–100
  4. War­lock: The English Ayre (Lon­don, 1926/R)
  5. Zuth: Hand­buch der Lau­te und Gita­rre (Vien­na, 1926–8/R)
  6. de La Lau­ren­cie: Les lut­his­tes (Paris, 1928/R)

O.J. Gom­bo­si: Bak­fark Bálint éle­te és müvei (1507–1576)/Der Lau­te­nist Valen­tin Bak­fark (1507–1576) (Buda­pest, 1935, rev. 2/1967 by Z. Falry in Ger. only)

H.-P. Kosack: Ges­chich­te der Lau­te und Lau­ten­mu­sik in Preus­sen (Kas­sel, 1935)

  1. New­ton: ‘English Lute Music of the Gol­den Age’, PMA, lxv (1938–9), 63–90

F.J. Gies­bert: Schu­le für die Baroc­klau­te (Mainz, 1940)

  1. Koc­zirz, ed.: Wie­ner Lau­ten­mu­sik des 18. Jahr­hun­dert, EDM, 2nd ser., i (1942)
  2. Boet­ti­cher: Stu­dien zur solis­tis­chen Lau­ten­pra­xis des 16. und 17. Jahr­hun­derts (Ber­lin, 1943)

J.M. Ward: The Vihue­la da Mano and its Music (1536–1576) (diss., New York U., 1953)

La musi­que ins­tru­men­ta­le de la Renais­san­ce: Paris 1954

  1. Rollin: ‘Le “tom­beau” chez les lut­his­tes Denis Gau­tier, Jac­ques Gallot, Char­les Mou­ton’, XVIIe siè­cle, nos.21–2 (1954), 463–79
  2. Lums­den: The Sour­ces of English Lute Music, 1540–1620 (diss., U. of Cam­brid­ge, 1955)

L.H. Moe: Dan­ce Music in Prin­ted Ita­lian Lute Tabla­tu­res from 1507 to 1611 (diss., Har­vard U., 1956)

Le luth et sa musi­que: Neuilly-sur-Sei­ne 1957

  1. Heartz: Sour­ces and Forms of the French Ins­tru­men­tal Dan­ce in the Six­teenth Cen­tury (diss., Har­vard U., 1957)
  2. Male­cek: ‘Bei­trä­ge zur Ges­chich­te der Wie­ner Lau­tens­pie­ler’, Jb des Vereins für Ges­chich­te der Stat Wien, xiii (1957), 63–92
  3. Jac­quot: ‘Le luth et sa musi­que: vers une orga­ni­sa­tion inter­na­tio­na­le des recher­ches’, AcM, xxx (1958), 89–99

W.S. Casey: Prin­ted English Lute Ins­truc­tion Books, 1568–1610 (diss., U. of Michi­gan, 1960)

  1. Lef­koff, ed.: Five Six­teenth Cen­tury Vene­tian Lute Books (Washing­ton DC, 1960)
  2. Ward: ‘The Lute Music of MS Royal Appen­dix 58’, JAMS, xiii (1960), 117–25
  3. Rub­sa­men: ‘Scot­tish and English Music of the Renais­san­ce in a Newly-Dis­co­ve­red Manus­cript’, Fes­ts­chrift Hein­rich Bes­se­ler, ed. E. Klemm (Leip­zig, 1961), 259–84
  4. Stęs­zews­ka: Tan­ce pols­kie z tabu­la­tur lut­niowych [Polish dan­ces in lute tabla­tu­re], i–ii (Kra­ków, 1962–6)
  5. Rad­ke: ‘Bei­trä­ge zur Erfors­chung der Lau­ten­ta­bu­la­tu­ren des 16. bis 18. Jahr­hun­derts’, Mf, xvi (1963), 34–51
  6. Ticho­ta: ‘Tabu­la­tory pro lout­nu a při­buz­né nás­tro­je na úze­mí ČSSR’ [Tabla­tu­res for lutes and rela­ted ins­tru­ments in Cze­chos­lo­va­kia], Stu­die a mate­riály k ději­nám sta­rší čes­ké hudby (Praha, 1965), 139–49
  7. Vogl: ‘Lau­te­nis­ten der böh­mis­chen Spä­tre­nais­san­ce’, Mf, xviii (1965), 28–901
  8. Ward: ‘Parody Tech­ni­que in 16th-Cen­tury Ins­tru­men­tal Music’, The Com­mon­wealth of Music, ed. G. Reese and R. Bran­del (New York, 1965), 208–28

C.M. Sim­pson: The Bri­tish Broad­si­de Ballad and its Music (New Bruns­wick, NJ, 1966)

  1. Dorf­mü­ller: Stu­dien zur Lau­ten­mu­sik in der ers­ten Häl­fte des 16. Jahr­hun­derts (Tutzing, 1967)

H.B. Lobaugh: Three Ger­man Lute Books: Denss’s ‘Flo­re­gium’, 1594; Reymann’s ‘Noc­tes musi­cae’, 1598; Rude’s ‘Flo­res musi­cae’ 1600 (diss., U. of Roches­ter, 1968)

  1. Pohl­mann: Lau­te, Theor­be, Chi­ta­rro­ne: die Ins­tru­men­te, ihre Musik und Lite­ra­tur von 1500 bis zur Gegen­wart (Bre­men, 1968, enlar­ged 5/1982) [incl. biblio­graphy]

W.H. Rub­sa­men: ‘The Ear­liest French Lute Tabla­tu­re’, JAMS, xxi (1968), 286–99

  1. Dorf­mü­ller: ‘Die Edi­tion der Lau­ten­ta­bu­la­tu­ren’, Musi­ka­lis­che Edi­tion im Wan­del his­to­ris­chen Bewuss­tseins, ed. T.G. Geor­gia­des (Kas­sel, 1971), 189–202
  2. Rad­ke: ‘Zum Pro­blem der Lau­ten­ta­bu­la­tur-Über­tra­gung’, AcM, xliii (1971), 94–103
  3. Dan­ner: ‘Befo­re Petruc­ci: the Lute in the 15th Cen­tury’, JLSA, v (1972), 4–17
  4. Heartz: ‘Mary Mag­da­len, Lute­nist’, JLSA, v (1972), 52–67
  5. Rave: Some Manus­cripts of French Lute Music, 1630–1700 (diss., U. of Illi­nois, 1972)
  6. Roo­ley and J. Tyler: ‘The Lute Con­sort’, LSJ, xiv (1972), 13–24
  7. Hen­ning: ‘Ger­man Lute Tabla­tu­re and Con­rad Pau­mann: Com­me­mo­ra­ting the 500th Anni­ver­sary of his Death’, LSJ, xv (1973), 7–10
  8. Hen­ning: ‘The Lute made Easy: a Chap­ter from Virdung’s Musi­ca getutscht (1511)’, LSJ, xv (1973), 20–36
  9. Ticho­ta: ‘Fran­co­uzs­ká lout­no­vá hud­ba v Čechách’ [French lute music in Bohe­mia], MMC, nos.25–6 (1973), 7–77 [with Ger. sum­mary]
  10. Heck: ‘Lute Music: Tabla­tu­res, Tex­tu­res and Trans­crip­tions’, JLSA, vii (1974), 19–30
  11. Tis­chler: ‘The Ear­liest Lute Tabla­tu­re?’, JAMS, xxvii (1974), 100–03

C.N. Amos: Lute Prac­ti­ce and Lute­nists in Ger­many bet­ween 1500 and 1750 (diss., U. of Iowa, 1975)

  1. Nords­trom: ‘The English Lute Duet and Con­sort Les­son’, LSJ, xviii (1976), 5–22
  2. Fallows: ‘15th-Cen­tury Tabla­tu­res for Pluc­ked Ins­tru­ments: a Sum­mary, a Revi­sion and a Sug­ges­tion’, LSJ, xix (1977), 7–33
  3. Boet­ti­cher: Hands­chriftlich über­lie­fer­te Lau­ten- und Gita­rren­ta­bu­la­tu­ren des 15. bis 18. Jahr­hun­derts: bes­chrei­ben­der Kata­log (Munich, 1978)
  4. Jac­quot: ‘Le luth et sa musi­que: from the Neuilly Collo­quium to the Cor­pus of French Lute­nists’, LSJ, xx (1978), 7–17
  5. Lyons: Lute, Vihue­la, Gui­tar to 1800: a Biblio­graphy (Detroit, 1978)
  6. Päff­gen: Lau­te und Lau­tens­piel in der ers­ten Häl­fte des 16. Jahr­hun­derts: Beo­bach­tun­gen zur Bau­wei­se und Spiel­tech­nik (Regens­burg, 1978)

Le luth et sa musi­que II: Tours 1980 [incl. A. Bai­les: ‘An Intro­duc­tion to French Lute Music of the XVIIth Cen­tury’, 213–29]

  1. Page: ‘French Lute Tabla­tu­re in the 14th Cen­tury?’, EMc, viii (1980), 488–91

W.F. Pri­zer: ‘Lute­nists at the Court of Man­tua in the Late Fif­teenth and Early Six­teenth Cen­tu­ries’, JLSA, xiii (1980), 5–34

J.-M. Vac­ca­ro: La musi­que de luth en Fran­ce au XVIe siè­cle (Paris, 1981)

  1. Led­bet­ter: ‘Aspects of 17th-Cen­tury Lute Sty­le Reflec­ted in the Works of the Cla­ve­ci­nis­tes’, The Lute, xxii (1982), 55–67

E.A. Bow­les: La pra­ti­que musi­ca­le au Moyen Age/Musical Per­for­man­ce in the Late Midd­le Ages (Gene­va, 1983)

C.P. Com­be­ria­ti: ‘On the Thres­hold of Homop­hony: Tex­tu­re in Six­teenth-Cen­tury Lute Music’, JMR, iv (1983), 331–52

  1. Gli­xon: ‘Lute­nists in Renais­san­ce Veni­ce: some Notes from the Archi­ves’, JLSA, xvi (1983), 15–26
  2. Marin­co­la: ‘The Ins­truc­tions from Vin­cen­zo Capirola’s Lute Book: a New Trans­la­tion’, The Lute, xxiii (1983), 23–8
  3. Coel­ho and others: ‘Stu­dies in the Lute and its Music: Pros­pects for the Futu­re’, JLSA, xvii–xviii (1984–5), 118–32
  4. Iva­noff: ‘Das Lau­ten­duo im 15. Jahr­hun­dert’, Bas­ler Jb für his­to­ris­che Musik­pra­xis, viii (1984), 147–62

J.M. Mea­dors: Ita­lian Lute Fan­ta­sias and Ricer­cars Prin­ted in the Second Half of the Six­teenth Cen­tury (diss., Har­vard U., 1984)

  1. Ticho­ta: ‘Bohe­mi­ka a čes­ký reper­toár v tabu­la­tu­rách pro rene­sa­nč­ní lout­nu’ [Bohe­miana and the Czech reper­tory in tabla­tu­re for the Renias­san­ce lute], MMC, no.31 (1984), 143–222

D.J. Buch: ‘Sty­le bri­sé, sty­le lut­hée, and the cho­ses lut­hées’, MQ, lxxi (1985), 52–67, 220–21

  1. Päff­gen: ‘Ein artli­ches Lob der Lau­ten: Blü­te und Nie­der­gang von Lau­te und Lau­tens­piel im 16.–18. Jahr­hun­dert’, Con­cer­to, ii (1985), 48–55
  2. Toft: ‘An Approach to Per­for­ming the Mid 16th-Cen­tury Ita­lian Lute Fan­ta­sia’, The Lute, xxv (1985), 3–16
  3. Hoff­mann-Erbrecht: ‘Lau­tens­piel und Lau­ten­kom­po­si­tion in Schle­sien’, Musik­ges­chich­te Schle­siens (Dül­men, 1986), 77–89

Lute Sym­po­sium: Utrecht 1986 [incl. A.J. Ness: ‘The Sie­na Lute Book and its Arran­ge­ments of Vocal and Ins­tru­men­tal Part-Music’, 30–49; L. Nords­trom: ‘The Lute in Set­tings for Con­sort’, 50–63]

  1. McCoy: ‘Lost Lute Solos Revea­led in a Pas­ton Manus­cript’, The Lute, xxvi (1986), 21–39

T.J. McGee: ‘Ins­tru­ments and the Faen­za Codex’, EMc, xiv (1986), 480–90

  1. Meyer: Con­tri­bu­tions à l’étude des sour­ces de la musi­que de luth dans les Pays ger­ma­ni­ques au XVIIè­me siè­cle (diss., U. of Stras­bourg II, 1986)
  2. Mina­mino: ‘Con­rad Pau­mann and the Evo­lu­tion of Solo Lute Prac­ti­ce in the Fif­teenth Cen­tury’, JMR, vi (1986), 291–310

W.F. Pri­zer: ‘The Frot­to­la and the Unw­rit­ten Tra­di­tion’, Stu­di musi­ca­li, xv (1986), 3–37

  1. Led­bet­ter: Har­psi­chord and Lute Music in 17th-Cen­tury Fran­ce (Lon­don, 1987)
  2. McCoy: ‘Edward Pas­ton and the Textless Lute-Song’, EMc, xv (1987), 221–7
  3. Päff­gen: ‘Lau­ten­mu­sik vor 1500’, Gita­rre & Lau­te, ix/6 (1987), 58–61
  4. Spring: The Lute in England and Scotland after the Gol­den Age, 1629–1750 (diss., U. of Oxford, 1987)

D.J. Buch: ‘Tex­tu­re in French Baro­que Lute Music and Rela­ted Ensem­ble Reper­to­ries’, JLSA, xx–xxi (1987–8), 120–54

  1. d’A. Jen­sen: The Lute Ricer­car in Italy, 1507–1517 (diss., U. of Cali­for­nia, 1988)

J.J. Kmetz, ed.: Die Handss­chrif­ten der Uni­ver­si­täts­bi­bliot­hek Basel. Kata­log der Musik­hands­chrif­ten des 16. Jahr­hun­derts: Que­llen­kri­tis­che und his­to­ris­che Unter­su­chung (Bas­le, 1988)

  1. Schle­gel: ‘Bemer­kun­gen zur “Rhé­to­ri­que des dieux”’, Gita­rre & Lau­te, xi/2 (1989), 17–23
  2. Grif­fiths: ‘Une fan­tai­sie de la Renais­san­ce: an Intro­duc­tion’, JLSA, xxiii (1990), 1–16
  3. Led­bet­ter: ‘French Lute Music 1600–1650: Towards a Defi­ni­tion of Gen­res’, The Lute, xxx (1990), 25–47
  4. Fabris: ‘Influen­ze sti­lis­ti­che e cir­co­la­zio­ne manos­crit­ta della musi­ca per liu­to in Ita­lia e in Fran­cia nella pri­ma metà del Sei­cen­to’, RdM, lxx­vii (1991), 311–33
  5. Fabris: ‘Voix et intru­ments pour la musi­que de dan­se: à pro­pos des airs pour chan­ter et dan­ser dans les tabla­tu­res ita­lien­nes de luth’, Le Con­cert des voix et des ins­tru­ments à la Renais­san­ce: Tours 1991, 389–422
  6. Meyer and others: Sour­ces manus­cri­tes en tabla­tu­re: luth et théor­be (ca. 1500–ca. 1800), cata­lo­gue des­crip­tif, i–iii (Baden-Baden, 1991–9)
  7. Eber­lein: ‘The Faen­za Codex: Music for Organ or for Lute Duet?’, EMc, xx (1992), 460–66
  8. Gómez: ‘Some Pre­cur­sors of the Spa­nish Lute School’, EMc, xx (1992), 583–93
  9. Meyer: ‘Quel­ques aspects de la dif­fu­sion de la musi­que de luth dans les Pays rhé­nans à l’époque de la Renais­san­ce et du Baro­que’, Mit­tei­lun­gen der Arbeits­ge­meins­chaft für mit­telr­hei­nis­che Musik­ges­chich­te, lix (1992), 363–72
  10. Polk: Ger­man Ins­tru­men­tal Music of the Late Midd­le Ages: Pla­yers, Patrons and Per­for­man­ce Prac­ti­ce (Cam­brid­ge, 1992)

J.M. Ward: Music for Eli­za­bet­han Lutes (Oxford, 1992)

  1. Craig-McFeely: English Lute Manus­cripts and Scri­bes 1530–1630 (diss., U. of Oxford, 1993)
  2. Kirsch and L. Meie­rott: Ber­li­ner Lau­ten­ta­bu­la­tu­ren in Kra­kau (Mainz, 1993)

V.A. Coel­ho: The Manus­cript Sour­ces of Seven­teenth-Cen­tury Ita­lian Lute Music (New York, 1995)

  1. Lay: ‘French Music for Solo Theor­bo: an Intro­duc­tion’, Lute News, no.40 (1996), 3–7

V.A. Coel­ho, ed.: Lute, Gui­tar and Vihue­la: His­to­ri­cal Prac­ti­ce and Modern Inter­pre­ta­tion (Cam­brid­ge, 1997) [incl. D. Fabris: ‘Lute Tabla­tu­re Ins­truc­tions in Italy: a Sur­vey of the Rego­le from 1507–1759’, 16–46]

  1. Brin­zing: ‘For­men und Tra­di­tio­nen in den deu­ts­chen Lau­ten­tän­zen des 16. Jahr­hun­derts’, Die Lau­te, i (1998), 5–17
  2. Király: ‘Eini­ge Beo­bach­tun­gen und Anmer­kun­gen ber Lau­ten­mu­sik­que­llen, Lau­te­nis­ten und Ama­teu­re im 16. und frühen 17. Jahr­hun­dert’, Die Lau­te, i (1998), 24–44