Lucrezia Borgia's Daughter
Princess, Nun and Musician: Motets from a 16th century convent
Musica Secreta & Celestial Sirens
Their hypnotic polyphony and static harmonies evoke a world of intense spiritual contemplation, and despite fleeting echoes of Josquin…the quirky use of dissonance suggests a composer outside...
Lucrezia Borgia's Daughter
Princess, Nun and Musician: Motets from a 16th century convent
Musica Secreta & Celestial Sirens
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Their hypnotic polyphony and static harmonies evoke a world of intense spiritual contemplation, and despite fleeting echoes of Josquin…the quirky use of dissonance suggests a composer outside...
About
Suor Leonora d’Este (1515–1575), Lucrezia Borgia’s daughter, was a princess, a nun, and a musician. She left little to illuminate her history, but an obscure book of motets may at least help us understand her musical life: the Musica quinque vocum motteta materna lingua vocata, published in Venice in 1543. The book is anonymous, but it contains clues to its origins that lead us to the door of Leonora d’Este’s home, the convent of Corpus Domini in Ferrara, perhaps even suggesting that she was its unidentified composer.
This music is the earliest published polyphony for nuns. This recording by Musica Secreta and Celestial Sirens allows it to be heard for the first time through carefully researched performances.
Contents and tracklist
- Musica Secreta, Celestial Sirens
- Recorded: 22–26 August 2016
- Recording Venue: Bishop Edward King Chapel, Ripon College, Cuddesdon, Oxfordshire, United Kingdom
Awards and reviews
May 2017
Their hypnotic polyphony and static harmonies evoke a world of intense spiritual contemplation, and despite fleeting echoes of Josquin…the quirky use of dissonance suggests a composer outside the musical mainstream…the recorded balance, too, offers different perspectives on these aptly chaste and seraphic performances
10th March 2017
The music – for five equal voices (of unspecified sex) – is astonishingly beautiful and yet strange, radical even...Often they seem closer to the music of our own times’ John Tavener than Palestrina: five voices weaving hypnotically around each other, pulling the listener in.