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15

Diminution and Harmonic Counterpoint in


Late-Eighteenth-Century Naples: Vincenzo
Lavigna’s Studies with Fedele Fenaroli
GIORGIO SA NGU I NE T T I

Schenker’s theory has its roots in the theoretical traditions of the eighteenth cen-
tury, specifically in species counterpoint and in the practice of thoroughbass: for him,
these disciplines formed the basis of the “true theory, as opposed to the “false” the-
ory that was based on nineteenth-century harmony and form. Species counterpoint
and thoroughbass did indeed constitute an indispensable theoretical foundation for
Schenker’s concept of musical structure, but they were not sufficient to explain the
nature of tonal music: two other principles were required. The first was Schenker’s
own theory of harmonic structural degree (Stufen) progression. The second principle
was diminution, a technique used in the Renaissance and Baroque periods, consisting
of substituting for a melody in long notes a passage of notes of shorter values: in itself,
diminution implies a generative process from simple to complex figurations. All four
of these elements contributed to the final stage of Schenker’s theory as formulated
in Der freie Satz: counterpoint and harmony are synthesized in the horizontal (Urli-
nie) and vertical (Baßbrechung) components of the Ursatz: the principle of diminution
is an essential component of the idea of structural levels, and thoroughbass supplies
the basis for many techniques of prolongation. For two of these four constituents of
Schenker’s mature theory—species counterpoint and general bass—he referred to a
specific teaching tradition: Fux’s Gradus ad Parnassum and its legacy on one hand,
and the thoroughbass treatises, exemplified in C. P. E. Bach’s Versuch, on the other
2 Giorgio Sanguinetti

(the Versuch was also the principal source for his idea of improvisation).1 Harmony, in
Schenker’s conception, was rooted in Rameau’s idea of fundamental scale degrees and
Viennese harmonic tradition, but had no equivalent in teaching practice: for Schenker,
harmony was an abstract, spiritual idea, and he considered the traditional pedagogy of
harmony deplorable.2
Regarding the sources for his idea of diminution, Schenker did not mention any
specific historical treatise, nor any teaching tradition. 3 In § 251 of Der freie Satz,
Schenker admits that Italians created the idea of diminution, but, he adds that their
art has been always confined to vocal and vocal-derived music: they could not create
“genuine” instrumental diminution because “only diminution generated by the word
was in the blood of the Italians”; and “the Italian musicians lacked training in abso-
lute diminution.”4 The only Italian composer who escaped Schenker’s deprecation—a
judgment grounded on a very partial (to say the least) historical knowledge of Italian
music—and who he saw as creating authentic instrumental diminution was Domenico
Scarlatti, whom Schenker placed in his personal pantheon alongside the great Ger-
man masters.5 However, he did not explain how Scarlatti’s art could have flourished
in such an infertile soil. In the next paragraph of the same work (§ 252) Schenker
further clarifies the difference between Italian (nonorganic) and German (organic)
diminution. Apart from a fleeting mention of C. P. E. Bach’s Versuch in relation to
performance, the place of diminution in composition pedagogy is left unanswered.
For Schenker, diminution, being related to improvisation and instinct, was the most
intimate part of music as an art, and could not be transmitted through formal teach-
ing: here lied the secret of artistic creation.
Schenker’s explicit denial of the possibility of teaching the art of composition ex-
plains why he did not mention any treatise, method, or teaching tradition specific to
diminution: for him, diminution was synonymous with composition, and thus not
possible to teach. In this lofty interpretation of the term, diminution clearly lies out-
side the realms of both theory and pedagogy. But there can be another, less “artistic”
way of understanding diminution in terms of Schenkerian theory. Diminution may in

1 Schenker 1925.
2 See Wason 1985.
3 “Diminution in its entirety surely does not allow for a single theory, for the subject matter is too
vast: no theorist could furnish a method in diminution technique for all genres of composition”
(Schenker 1925, 3). In footnote 8 to §251 of Der freie Satz (1956) Schenker praises a (then) recently
published book on diminution: Robert Haas' Aufführungspraxis der Musik (Haas 1931).
4 “…wo sich italienische Musiker im extempore lockerer Diminutionen verloren, die einander
fremd, unorganisch blieben, befleißigten sich die deutschen streng organischer Bindungen aller
Art” (Schenker 1956, 151).
5 “Nur ein einziges Mal, in Domenico Scarlattis Genie offenbarte auch der italienische Geist eine
hinreißende Befähigung zur absoluten Diminution” (Schenker 1956, 147).
Diminution and Harmonic Counterpoint 3

fact be considered a technique of elaborating an indispensable harmonic-contrapuntal


structure, resulting in a new melodic and harmonic content. In this sense, diminution
can be considered a synonym of Auskomponierung. In this more prosaic sense diminu-
tion can indeed be taught, and in many ways it was.
The practice of making diminutions on simple tone patterns with more or less
evident harmonic implications, was indeed common in sixteenth-century vocal and
instrumental music. Out of the many treatises on diminution from this period, some
bear examples of diminutions on simple patterns, or cadenze. In Fontegara (1535),
Sylvestro Ganassi offers examples of diminutions on “Chadenzie” in different “pro-
portiones”: his examples of diminution are arranged on tables, in order of growing
complexity.6 A later work, Francesco Rognoni’s Selva de varii passaggi (1620) features
a series of cadenze in different keys followed by diminutions.7 Rognoni’s cadenze also
go unsupported by a bass, but they show a clearly defined harmonic orientation. All
cadenze in Part One are based on a 8-7-8 model, a melodic succession that clearly im-
plies an underlying I-V-I harmonic progression.8
Diminution was also an essential part of counterpoint theory, from the earliest
treatises of the fourteenth century (such as De diminutione contractpuncti)9 up to Fux’s
systematization. In part III of Le istituzioni armoniche, Zarlino divides counterpoint
into semplice (note against note) and diminuito: the latter type includes every sort of
rhythmic figures. The idea of diminution eventually led to the species concept, pass-
ing through Diruta (1609), Banchieri (1613), Zacconi (1622), and Bononcini (1673) to
the definitive classification in five species in Fux’s Gradus ad Parnassum (1725).10
Diminution was also in many ways connected to thoroughbass theory. Many
­thoroughbass treatises, such as Friedrich Erhard Niedt’s Musicalische Handleitung
(1700) or Francesco Gasparini’s L’armonico pratico al cimbalo (1708), offer examples of
diminution both in the bass and in the accompaniment. Fluency in creating diminu­
tion was indeed a basic skill for continuo players.
In all its manifestations, the concept of diminution was deeply connected to that of
performance; by the end of the eighteenth century, however, the fields of composition
and performance began to diverge. Some performance treatises (like Quantz’s Versuch)
offered the last examples of diminutions similar to those offered by Rognoni a century
and half earlier; but in the realm of composition pedagogy the diminution principle
had been (partially) absorbed in the five species of strict counterpoint, and sometimes

6 Ganassi 1535. See also the German translation in Ganassi 1956.


7 Rognoni 1620; Forni 1983. Rognoni’s Selva is described in Carter 1989.
8 Banchieri too offers examples of diminutions (fioretti di gorgia) on 8-7-8 cadenze in Brevi documenti
musicali (1609). See Haas 1931, 145.
9 Coussmaker S III, 62–4.
10 The development of the species idea is described in Bent 2002, 563–8.
4 Giorgio Sanguinetti

appeared in the figurations of thorough-bass accompaniment. The reasons for the de-
cline of the idea of diminution were probably the rise of harmony as discipline on one
hand, and the growing influence of the theory of musical phraseology on the other.11
At the beginning of the nineteenth-century the idea of diminution had virtually dis-
appeared from both music pedagogy and performance.
In this f leeting survey of diminution pedagogy, we have seen the principle of
diminution in relation to several traditions: pre-tonal instrumental music, thorough
bass, and counterpoint. Schenker’s idea of diminution, however, is different: in his
view of tonal music, diminution consists in the elaboration of increasing complexity
of elementary contrapuntal structures that are harmonically conceived. In this sense,
there was no evidence that such a didactic tradition existed before twentieth century
treatises inf luenced by Schenker’s ideas, such as Aldwell and Schachter’s Harmony
and Voice Leading.12
In the following, I will discuss a document that attests the existence of just such
a tradition: a manuscript (which, as far as I know, has never been discussed previ-
ously) containing a complete series of counterpoint exercises written near the end
of the eighteenth century by Vincenzo Lavigna, a pupil of Fedele Fenaroli, one of
the most celebrated among Italian composition teachers between the eighteenth and
nineteenth centuries.13 These exercises show that diminution practice was in use as
a teaching tool in Italian pedagogical tradition at least until the end of eighteenth
century. Although a generative process is not stated but only suggested, in these
exercises diminution is present at the very beginning of counterpoint studies, and
deeply rooted in a clear harmonic structure with a hierarchy of Stufen not unlike
Schenker’s. In addition, the approach to the first, more elementary configuration
of tonal structure strikingly recalls the configuration of a Schenkerian Ursatz. Vin-
cenzo Lavigna’s studies with Fenaroli took place in Naples from 1791 to 1794 at the
Conservatorio della Pietà dei Turchini. While Lavagna was certainly not a famous
musician (though not a negli­g ible one), thirty years after finishing his course with
Fenaroli, he happened to become the ­teacher of a rather more well-known composer,
Giuseppe Verdi.

11 See Horsley 1963.


12 Aldwell & Schachter 2003. This book introduces scale degrees II, III, IV, and VI as part of the
elaboration of a basic structure composed by an opening tonic, a dominant, and a closing tonic.
13 Fedele Fenaroli (1730–1818) was one of the most celebrated teachers of the so-called Neapoli-
tan tradition. A student of Durante, he was responsible for the reorganization of the Neapolitan
conservatories after unification in 1806. His methods, Regole musicali per i principianti di cembalo
(Fenaroli 1775) and Partimenti ossia basso numerato (various editions, starting from around 1800)
were in use until the beginning of the twentieth century.
Diminution and Harmonic Counterpoint 5

The way composition was taught in the Neapolitan conservatories between the
s­ eventeenth and the nineteenth century had an enormous and lasting influence on
Italian music and, less directly, on European music: the so-called “Neapolitan school”
of composition was very highly regarded in Italy, and renowned in the rest of Europe.
Among the unique aspects of this school, the most remarkable were the coherence
and continuity of its teaching methods. Despite the relatively few printed treatises
or manuals, the Neapolitan masters produced an huge amount of teaching material:
counterpoint examples and exercises, partimenti, disposizioni, solfeggi, duos, fugues,
canons, and more. Most of this music is in manuscript, diligently copied over and over
by generations of students. The continuity of the school helped to preserve this mate-
rial: the library of today’s Conservatorio di S. Pietro a Majella is the direct heir of the
library of the Real Collegio di Musica, and still today contains many copybooks of
students who came from far and wide to study with the celebrated teachers here.
The study of composition exercises is not a major field in musicological research.
The ambivalent status of a music that cannot be considered “genuine” music and can-
not be evaluated as a work of art, even if written by a great composer, has indeed
jeopardized the preservation of the documents themselves, often discarded as irrel-
evant. A turning point in the consideration of this kind of sources were the stud-
ies of Alfred Mann.14 Mann, however, focused on first-rank figures such as Handel,
Mozart, or Beethoven; quite understandably, he did not consider lesser figures worthy
of in­vestigation. Why, then, should we bother to study the exercises of a minor com-
poser such as Lavigna? Does it make sense to do so? The answer, in my opinion, lies
in the trans-individual nature of these exercises. They reflect not only the composi-
tional skills of Vincenzo Lavigna—which we could most certainly ignore without dire
consequences—but also the pedagogical ideas of Fedele Fenaroli, a man who taught
generations of Italian composers; and, more importantly, Fenaroli’s ideas were part
of a coherent, and continuous, secular method of teaching—the Neapolitan school—
whose influence on European music is difficult to underestimate. The massive emi-
gration of Italian musicians to of the rest of Europe in the eighteenth century contrib-
uted not only to the diffusion of Italian music, but also of their methods of teaching. A
famous case is Haydn’s studies with Porpora: as the Austrian composer later declared,
“I had the good fortune to learn the true fundamentals of composition from the fa-
mous Herr Porpora;”15 as for Porpora, he was a teacher in the Naples Conservatories
of S. Onofrio and S. Maria di Loreto and was a student of Gaetano Greco, another
celebrated Neapolitan teacher.

14 See in particular Mann 1987.


15 This statement appears in a letter to “Mademoiselle Leonore” containing an autobiographical
sketch. See Landon 1959.
6 Giorgio Sanguinetti

The Manuscript Noseda Th.c.117

Lavigna’s collection is contained in the manuscript Noseda Th.c.117 in the library


of the Milan Conservatory. The manuscript is part of a large collection known as
“Fondo Noseda,” once the private collection of a musician, Gustavo Adolfo Noseda,
who bequeathed it to the Milan conservatory. With more than 10,000 items the Fondo
Noseda is the most important collection of eighteenth and nineteenth-century Nea-
politan music outside Naples.
Vincenzo Lavigna was born in Altamura, near Bari, in 1776 (or 1777) and died
in Milan in 1836. He studied at the Conservatorio di S. Maria di Loreto in Naples
between 1790 and 1799 with Fedele Fenaroli and Saverio Valente.16 In 1802 Lavigna
moved to Milan and, with the help of a recommendation from Paisiello, he held the
position of maestro al cembalo at La Scala for many years, also teaching solfeggio and
voice at the conservatory. His operas were performed regularly by famous singers such
as Isabella Colbran. An interesting aspect of Lavigna’s personality was his deep love
and knowledge of Classic period music, particularly by Mozart; Lavigna conducted
the first performance of Don Giovanni at La Scala in 1814, and the performance was
so successful that the production had a run of a whole year.
His merits notwithstanding, Lavigna would hardly be remembered today had he
not been the teacher to which the young Verdi turned when the Milan conservatory
refused to admit him as a student. Verdi always expressed affection and reverence for
his old master and for the tradition in which he had studied, as we can learn from a
letter to Francesco Florimo17 from January 9, 1871:

Lavigna was a student of Fenaroli who, in his very old age, still gave lessons in the
Collegio…I don’t know which, but at the same time Lavigna took private lessons

16 Saverio Valente (Naples, late 1700s–early 1800s) studied with Fenaroli at S. Maria di Loreto and
became a teacher at the Real Collegio di Musica in 1807. The following didactic manuscripts are
preserved in the Milan and Naples Conservatory libraries: Partimenti del sig. D. Saverio Valente
accademico filarmonico (1808), I-Nc 18.3.79; Partimenti di Saverio Valente accademico filarmonico
I-Mc. Noseda Q. 13.17; Partimenti Principj di Cembalo del sig. r D. Saverio Valente Accademico Filar-
monico I-Mc. Noseda Q. 13.15; Partimenti I-Mc. Noseda Q. 13.16; Scala di soprano, o tenore in 3.a
mag.re e min.re con tutt’i salti, e poi a quattro voci, a S.a, ed a 3.a madricali di Saverio Valente accademico
Filarmonico I-Nc.O(D).1.4; Esercizio quotidiano per le 4.o voci, diviso all’unisone a due nella scala,
da esercitarsi giornalmente da figlioli del R. conserv. di S.M. di Loreto; composto dal M.stro di Cap.la
incardinato nello stesso R.I. conserv.o Save [rio Valente] I-Nc.Solfeggio 413.
17 Francesco Florimo (1800–88), a student of Furno, Zingarelli and Tritto was the chief librarian
at the Naples conservatory from 1851 until his death. He was a close friend to Bellini, and one of
the first supporters of Wagner in Italy. His four volumes work, La scuola musicale di Napoli e i suoi
Conservatorii (Florimo 1880–3) is still considered a standard work.
Diminution and Harmonic Counterpoint 7

from Valente. […] Lavigna had a very high opinion of him and, to judge by the five
or six original fugues that Lavigna kept and the many fugal subjects which I too
have used in my studies, Valente was very much much more skilled in counterpoint
than Fenaroli.
It was Paisiello (in 1801, I think) who, on his way to Paris, brought Lavigna to
Milan, I don’t know why. Recommended by Paisiello, he wrote an opera for La Sca-
la, and he was appointed Maestro concertatore in that theatre, a position he held
until 1832. I knew him in this year, and studied counterpoint under his direction
until 1835. Lavigna was very skilled in counterpoint, thought a little bit pedantic,
and saw no other music than Paisiello’s. […] during the three years I spent studying
with him I wrote nothing but canons and fugues, fugues and canons in every pos-
sible way […].18

The Content of Noseda Th.c.117

The manuscript Noseda Th.c.117 consists of seven exercise books bound together,
written under the supervision of Fedele Fenaroli and his assistants, Saverio Verde and
Giuseppe Gargani between 1791 and 1795. They bear no text, only exercises: as we
shall see, the extant handwritten collections of rules are usually separate from exer-
cises. Every single book bears the heading Studio [studi] di contrappunto: the discussion
of the exercises will make clear the peculiar meaning of counterpoint used here, but for
the time being we should keep in mind that the term contrappunto was used basically as
an antonym to partimento. On one hand, contrappunto designated the art of compos-
ing any skillfully written music, either in strict and or free style; on the other hand,
partimento indicated the art of improvising at the keyboard on a written guide. The
realm of counterpoint, therefore, included strict composition, imitation and fugue, but
also free styles such the toccata or sonata for cembalo, or the vocal duet.

18 “Il Lavigna era un allievo di Fenaroli, che vecchissimo dava ancora lezioni nel collegio di…(non so
più quale) ma nello stesso tempo Lavigna prendeva lezioni particolari da Valente. […] Lavigna ne
aveva altissima opinione e se si deve giudicare da cinque o sei fughe originali che Lavigna conserva
e da molti soggetti di fuga, che han servito anche per i miei studi, Valente era un contrappuntista
molto, ma molto più sicuro di Fenaroli. Lavigna fu condotto (credo nel 1801) a Milano da Paisiello
che andava a Parigi, non so per qual motivo. Raccomandato da Paisiello scrisse un’opera per la
Scala e venne fissato maestro concertatore in quel teatro ove stette fino al 1832. In quest’anno lo
conobbi e studiai sotto la sua direzione il contrappunto fino al 1835. Lavigna era fortissimo nel
contrappunto, qualche poco pedante e non vedeva altra musica che quella di Paisiello! […] nei tre
anni passati con lui, non ho fatto altro che canoni e fughe, fughe e canoni in tutte le salse” (Abbiati
1959, I, 118). Verdi's studies in composition are discussed in Montemorra Marvin 2007.
8 Giorgio Sanguinetti

YEAR MONTH TITLE INSTRUCTOR CALL


NUMBER
1791/1792 September/ Studi di contrappunto Saverio Verde Th.c-117/a
October disposti a due

1792/1793 December / Studi di contrappun- Saverio Verde Th.c-117/d


January to disposti a due per
imitazione
1793 February / Studi di contrappunto Fedele Fenaroli / Th.c-117/b
July disposti a tre Giuseppe Gargani

1793 July / Disposizioni a tre per Fedele Fenaroli / Th.c-117/e


October imitazione Giuseppe Gargani

1794 January / Studio di contrappunto Fedele Fenaroli Th.c-117/c


June disposto a quattro

1794/1795 June / Studio di contrappunto Fedele Fenaroli Th.c-117/f


January disposto a quattro per
imitazione
1795 April 8 / Studio di contrappunto Fedele Fenaroli Th.c-117/g
June 23 fugato a 4°

Table 1

Table 1 lists the individual copybooks bound together in Noseda Th.c.117, along with
the year, month, title, name of the instructor, and individual call numbers of the single
sections of the manuscript. As we can see, the titles depict a very traditional course in
counterpoint, not so unlike a Fuxian approach. The sheer amount of time devoted to
these studies—it took more than four years to proceed from two to four voices—confirms
what Verdi wrote to Florimo in the above mentioned letter: that is, counterpoint in Na-
ples was taken very seriously, and that it constituted the bulk of composition teaching.

Book 1

Table 2 offers a closer examination of the contents of the first book of exercises, and
makes clear that it contains something different from a standard course in counterpoint:
instead, the content of Table 2 looks more like a course in thorough-bass, or perhaps
even harmony. However, the ordering of the material is unusual for a ­thorough-bass
method: for example, it is not common for a continuo treatise to begin with cadences,
not to mention the fact that there are only two voices.
Diminution and Harmonic Counterpoint 9

Book 1: Table of content


Title: Studi di contrappunto disposti a due (1791–92)
Instructor: Saverio Verde (Fenaroli’s assistant)
1. Cadenze
2. Scales
3. Counterpoints to a bass
a) Bass moving by skip
Ascending by third, and descending stepwise
Descending by third, and ascending stepwise
Ascending by fourth, and descending by third
Descending by fourth, and ascending stepwise
Ascending by fifths, and descending by fourth
Descending by fifth, and ascending by fourth
Ascending by sixth, and descending by fifth
Ascending by fourth, and descending by fifth
b) Bass moving stepwise
chromatically in the minor mode
descending with suspensions
4. 12 basses, each realized four times: the first two “in simple manner,” the other two,
one with suspension, the other with imitations
5. Counterpoints to a melody

Table 2

As a matter of fact, the order of the first book, as illustrated in Table 2, matches exactly
the content of a typical Neapolitan partimento manual. The general design of a parti-
mento handbook follows this model: cadences – scales – bass patterns – suspensions.19
An interesting question arises now: if Neapolitans considered contrappunto as opposed
to partimento, why do both disciplines follow the same syllabus?
Another source can help us to answer to this question: a course in counterpoint
preserved in the library of the Conservatory of San Pietro a Majella in Naples. On the
front page is an attribution to Fenaroli, but it was probably written by an anonymous
student attending the master’s lessons.20 The Naples manuscript is a source parallel
to the Nosedas: the syllabus is obviously the same, but the exercises are presented in

19 This ordering of the matter is clearly discenible in Fenaroli’s Regole, or in various handwritten
sources of Durante’s partimenti.
20 Studio di Contropunto del Sig.r D. Fedele Fenaroli, ms., I-Nc 22.2.6-2.
10 Giorgio Sanguinetti

sketch form (not fully realized), with few notes accompanying them. The beginning of
the text, written in uncertain Italian by a not very literate student, reads as follows:

Those, who want to learn Counterpoint, should study well the first and second
­f igured book [of Fenaroli’s Partimenti] and the movements of the Bass in the third
book as well; later they should begin to place the singing voice in various modula-
tions above the three fundamental tones of the Bass, that is, the first, fourth, and
fifth of the key, upon which rests all Music. The student is taught also to try hard to
make the voices singing, because on singing rests the development of both imagina-
tion in composing and a harmonious and natural style. 21

Parallel to I-Nc 22.2.6-2 is Studi, o sia scuola di contropunto del Sig. D. Fedele Fenaroli
per uso di Ferdinando Sebastiani (1819), I-Nc 22.1.23. In it, we read the following ad-
vice: “In order to get the real knowledge of harmony, the beginner in counterpoint
must work very hard on the three fundamental tones and especially on the scales and
on bass progressions; but, above all, he must strive to obtain a natural, easy and har-
monious melody.”22
As the abovementioned Naples manuscripts make clear, Fenaroli considered the
first stage in counterpoint studies as the thorough working-out of the upper voice
(the bass was given) of a four-voices texture; at this stage, the inner voices were not
present, but only implied. Later on, the bass too would be involved in the process of
elaboration, and the work would focus on both outer voices rather than on the soprano
only. Contrappunto, in this sense, meant nothing else than singable voice-leading of a
harmonically conceived structure: from the very beginning, the idea of a deep connec-
tion between harmony and voice leading was stressed.23
As I have already mentioned, the progression and ordering of the studies, as
outlined in the Naples copy-book, is very similar to the Lavigna exercises. The few
­existing differences can be explained on the grounds that the instructor who actu-
ally taught Lavigna in the first stages of his instruction was not Fenaroli himself,

21 “Quelli che desiderano apprendere il Contropunto è necessario che prima studiassero bene il primo
e secondo libro numerico, ed ancora li movimenti del Basso del terzo libro, e poi principiassero a
porre la parte cantante in varie modulazioni sopra le tre note fondamentali del Basso, che sono,
prima, quarta, e quinta del tono, sopra le quali è appoggiata tutta la Musica. Si insegna ancora allo
studente a studiare molto di cantare, mentre dal cantare dipende, e la fantasia nel comporre, e la
formazione dello stile armonico, e naturale” (I-Nc 22.26-2, c. 1v).
22 “Il principiante di contropunto deve faticare su le tre note fondamentali e molto su le scale, e movi-
mento del Basso per poter giungere alla vera cognizione dell’armonia, ma sopra tutto deve badare
alla cantilena che sia naturale, facile, ed armoniosa” (I-Nc 22.2.6-2, c.3r).
23 See also Beach 1994.
Diminution and Harmonic Counterpoint 11

but rather S­ averio Verde (about whom very little is known) and who clearly was a
“mastriciello”—an assistant to Fenaroli.24

Cadenze

I will begin the examination of the Lavigna copybook from the first exercises on
“cadenze”25 in two voices: Example 15.1 is a transcription of folio 1 verso and folio 15.1 | 157
2 recto of the manuscript; Example 2 is a facsimile of the manuscript of the same
exercises. The harmonic basis for these cadenze is different from the one suggested
by the anonymous student of the Naples manuscript: Lavigna here uses only the first
and fifth harmonic degrees, and not the fourth. As a result, the bass has the aspect of
a Schenkerian Baßbrechung, the bass arpeggiation with opening tonic, dominant, and
closing tonic. Above the same bass arpeggiation, Lavigna places six different models
of top voice: 3-2-3, 1-7-1, 1-2-1, 5-4-3, 3-4-3, and 3-7-1. The result is quite similar
to what Schenker calls an Ursatz, even if the most important model, 3-2-1, does not
appear.
Immediately after the presentation of the six models we come upon five series of
cadenze with elaborations of increasing complexity. We can distinguish five levels of
diminution, separated in the manuscript by thick bar lines. Level I corresponds to the
second species of counterpoint, with two notes in each bar. Level II uses a mixture of
half and quarter notes. Level III uses quarter and eighth notes in various combina-
tions, including embellishing notes such as the appoggiatura. Level IV introduces
sixteenth notes, and level V makes use of suspensions in the upper part and introduces
the elaboration of the bass, including the use of the fourth scale degree.
At this point, any Schenkerian would be tempted to interpret each level of dimi-
nution as a composing-out of the previous level; or, at least, as a different diminution
of the first, Ursatz-like, model. Is this the case with the Lavigna-Fenaroli exercises?
There are no explicit indications either in the Lavigna exercise book or in the note-
book of the anonymous Naples student that the more elaborated cadenze were con-
sciously intended as diminutions of the simpler ones; in other words, that there was a
generative process starting from the quasi-Ursatz model going through the five levels
of diminutions. Fe­naroli (or his assistants) could have simply said: write six cadenze
with whole notes, then ten with half notes, and so on. But there are signs that a gen-

24 The following music in manuscript by Saverio Verde exists in the libraries of the conservatories
in Naples and Milan: Infida sors Crudelis (motet), I-Nc. Mus. Rel. 3360 (1-15); Dixit Dominus
(Psalm 109), I-Nc. Mus. Rel. 3359 (1-15); Magnificat, I-Nc Mus. Rel. 3357 (1-13); Te Deum, I-Mc.
Noseda Q.12.23. All four pieces are for four voices choir and orchestra. I was unable to find any
biographical note about the author.
25 As it will become clear later in this article, the word cadenza indicates here something different
from the current notion of cadence. For this reason, I shall retain the original term cadenza.
12 Giorgio Sanguinetti

erative process was at least implied in the method of work. One example is the first
diminution of level I, marked in the manuscript with the number 5 (the numerals refer
to the number of diminution present in each level: they are, however, inaccurate): see
15.2 | 157 Example 15.2, a reproduction of the manuscript.
The size of the notes seems to suggests that the writer first drew the larger notes E
and D as whole notes (compare them with the whole note C in the third bar) and later
the smaller C and B as diminutions: the model could be identified as the first, with the
exception that the last note is C instead of E. Another example is the first diminution
in level II, marked by the numeral 10: here, too, the larger half notes seem to suggest a
generative process from the first model with the substitution of the closing tonic to the
original 3; in this case, as in the previous, it is also possible to derive it—in a less di-
rect way—from the last model, with the leading tone substituting for the second scale
degree. In fact, the most frequent deviation is the appearance of the closing tonic in
the upper voice of the diminutions, even where the supposed model ends with ­another
scale degree. In those cases, the Ursatz model 3-2-1 emerges as “shadow model” for
many diminutions.

Scales

Most Italian eighteenth-century schools of composition used scales in two ways: the
first, universally known, was the so-called “Rule of the Octave,” the most important
technique for the accompaniment of unfigured bass. Another, less frequent technique
was the employment of scales as a substitute for the cantus firmus in elementary coun-
terpoint.26 The Lavigna-Fenaroli manuscript attests to a third use, actually a mixture
of the first two: the scale functions as a bass for a series of diminutions of increasing
complexity based on an implied harmonic fabric. In this sense, the scale quite natural-
ly takes the place of the cadenza in the previous series of exercises. As for the cadenze,
the question arises whether there is a generative process from the whole note scales
to the diminutions. The thoroughbass figures added to the bass of scales 4 and 5 (see
15.3 | 157 Example 15.3) suggest that a chordal texture is implied in the two-voice writing, and
that, when the chordal structure is more or less the same—as in scales 4 and 5—the
diminutions consist of a compound (or polyphonic) melody connecting the different
voices of the fabric, using passing as well as other melodic tones.
From this point of view, scale 1 may be seen as a paradigm for those scales starting
with an 8-7-8 motion in the upper voice (as scales 4, 5, 7, 11, 12); scale 2 as paradigm
for those scales starting with a 3-4-3 motion in the first three bars (nn. 9, 10, 11).
Similarly, many scales exhibit the typical “modulation” in the descending phase of
the “Rule of the Octave” (such as scales 4, 5, 10, 11, 12) even if they start in the same
26 A famous example of this practice is Mattei 1825.
Diminution and Harmonic Counterpoint 13

way as scale 1: scale 3, in the ascending phase, is clearly a variant of scale 1, and in the
descending phase of scale 2. Similarly, numbers 9 and 10, which take as basis no. 2 in
the ascending phase and n. 1 in the descending, while nn. 11 and 12 become nearer to
n. 2 also in descending. Other scales exhibit different models: for example, scale 6 is
based on the 7-6 suspension.
To summarize: counterpoints written on scales, even in two voices, are based on an
implicit chordal texture derived from the “Rule of the Octave;” the most widely used
model is the one proposed by Fenaroli himself in his Regole musicali and in his collec-
tions of partimenti, but other models are possible (for example, the ascending scale
realized as a chain of overlapping suspensions, such as series of 7-6 (8) or 9-8 (10):
see Fenaroli’s Partimenti ossia basso numerato, book 3). The more elaborated scales are
clearly diminutions of some whole-notes models, but there is not a single whole-tone
paradigm for the more elaborated scales: rather they combine elements from different
models.

Bass Progressions

Table 2 lists the various models of sequential progression used as basses for a series
of counterpoints in the upper voice. They are employed in the same manner as the
cadences and scales: each bass serves for a series of no less than ten different counter-
points of increasing complexity. The question of whether they can or cannot be con-
sidered elaborations of the same paradigm can be posed as well. Example 15.4 shows 15.4 | 157
the thirteen counterpoints on a bass descending by thirds and ascending by seconds.
The first two note-against-note counterpoints are built on sequences: the first repli-
cates a 5-6 model, the second a 10-6. All subsequent versions, from three to thirteen,
are diminutions of the first two. Specifically, numbers 3, 4, 6, 7, 11, 12 are elaborations
of the first; and numbers 5, 8, 9, 10, and 13 are elaborations of the second counter-
point. Some, as n. 6, may be seen as combination of the two models; but a generative
process is clearly discernible.
Not all series of diminutions of a bass progression are intended as composings-out
of a basic model, however. Some, like the Basses ascending by fourth and descending
by third show the quest for different solutions, without regard to structural depen-
dence.
The fourth section contains the realization of the 12 basses with four solutions each:
two “simple,” one using dissonances and one by imitation. The basses are the same
ones we find in the Naples notebook, where no realization is given. Even here the first
“simple” exercise is almost always tacitly assumed as “middle ground” for the other,
more complex, realizations.
14 Giorgio Sanguinetti

The last section of book one is called “parti di canto,” or counterpoints to a given
melody. Each parte di canto is given three or four different accompaniments; in most
cases the principle of deriving of a bass through the diminution of a previous, simpler
version is apparent.

Book 2

The transition from book 1 to book 2, Studi di contrappunto disposti a due per imitazione,
is crucial, because the suppression of the given voice, either bass or melody, requires
the students to plan the exercises by themselves. The second collection thus consists
of six imitative two-voices counterpoints in different styles, ranging from strict writ-
ing to the instrumental duet. Generally speaking, they are similar to the “Imitations”
described by Fux in his Gradus ad Parnassum, part 3, but much longer. The subject
is stated on different degrees of the home key, and almost always there is a strong
cadence about two thirds of the way into the exercise; after that point the imitation
changes in character, either introducing a new countersubject or strettos, or explor-
ing different tonal regions (for example, if the first part explores the “sharp” side, the
second usually goes in direction of the “flat” side). All procedures already learned in
the first book are employed: cadences, sequential progressions of the bass and scales.
However, the abandonment of the guidance of a given voice has some drawbacks: the
first exercises, in particular, are flawed by awkward and unconvincing modulations.
These problems are solved in the subsequent course of study.

Book 3

Book 3 follows the same path as book 1, but in three voices, with the exception of the
cadences, which are not replicated. There is nothing particular to note here except
for the increasing quantity of the different versions required for each exercise: there
are sixteen different versions of the major scale, which will reach the quite incredible
number of thirty-two in the book of four-voice exercises.

Book 4

Book 4 testifies to a remarkable improvement in the musical quality and elegance of


the voice leading. Example 5 shows one of the twelve Disposizioni a tre per imitazione
composed by Lavigna under the supervision of Fenaroli and another of his assistants,
Giuseppe Gargani.27 The disposizione was a kind of exercise widely used in the Nea-

27 All twelve disposizioni are based on themes by Fenaroli; the themes appear also in the Naples note-
book as sketches that are four- or five bars long.
Diminution and Harmonic Counterpoint 15

politan school, and its purpose was to fill the gap between strict counterpoint and free
composition. In its simplest form, it was practiced with the aid of a bass or a given
melody, and the students were required to compose a skillful and interesting voice on
a stereotypical bass motion, such as a cadence, or a scale.28 As the students became
more advanced, they were required to compose a imitative disposizione on their own,
beginning with a theme of two to four bars. The disposizione VI a tre per imitazione in
Example 15.5 is one of the finest in Lavigna’s collection: a two-part duet in F minor 15.5 | 157
with bass in the expressive style of Durante. Examining the remaining three books
would bring us too far from the basic premises of Fenaroli’s approach to diminution
and counterpoint, which are more clearly discernible in the earlier exercises.

A Comparison with Other Sources

A good number of manuscript sources related to counterpoint studies in the Neapoli-


tan milieu have been preserved, but few of them have the same degree of completeness
as Noseda Th.c.117. As we have seen, there are two kinds of these sources: exercise
books, and collections of rules. An interesting source of the second type is Istituzioni
e regole di contrappunto, a manuscript ascribed to Leonardo Leo bearing the date 1792
on the frontispiece, obviously written by a later hand.29 Leo’s approach to counterpoint
is different from Fenaroli’s: Leo too deals with cadences, but their classification is dif-
ferent and there is no trace of diminutions. In general, Leo’s concept of counterpoint
is stricter and closer to Fux, while Fenaroli seems to follow his teacher, Durante, and
favors a synthesis of harmony and counterpoint. From this point of view, the legendary
opposition between Leists and Durantists seems to find further confirmation. Since
Leo’s manuscript seems to imply that Fenaroli’s idea of counterpoint was not the only
one being used in the Naples conservatories, other questions arise: first, was Fenaroli’s
approach to counterpoint older than Fenaroli himself, and second, was it used only in
Naples, or in other Italian centers, or even outside Italy?

28 Baron Giuseppe Staffa gives a description of the disposizione in his 1849 treatise, the aim of which
was to hand down to posterity the oral precepts of the school of Naples, which at that time were
rapidly vanishing. According to Staffa, “the disposizione must be higly regarded, because, by
maintaining all the harmonic and melodic rules that pertain to it, the student learns the art of
arranging the ensemble of voices, and thus it greatly contributes to the ultimate success of the mu-
sic” [“la disposizione deve inspirare grandissima premura, perchè conservando essa tutte le regole
armoniche e melodiche, che le appartengono, insegna l’arte di figurare tutte le voci che insieme
canteranno, e contribuisce molto al buonissimo risultato della musica”] (Staffa 1849, 359). See also
Sanguinetti 2005.
29 Leonardo Leo, Istituzioni (e regole) dei contrappunto (1792), I-Nc 22.2.6-3. Leo's treatise is dis-
cussed in Abbate 2007.
16 Giorgio Sanguinetti

Regarding the first question, I am not currently aware of sources of this kind
earlier than Lavigna’s copybook; but there are many from the same or from later peri-
ods. The most important Neapolitan counterpoint treatise from that period is doubt-
less Nicola Sala’s Regole del contrappunto pratico (1794).30 At the beginning of book 1
Sala offers an example of a cadenza of the 8-7-8 kind on the I-V-I fundamental har-
monic degrees. Sala presents three versions of the same cadenza: “semplice” (8-7-8),
“composta” (with 4-3 suspension) and “doppia” (with the insertion of a neighboring
six-four); he does not offer examples of diminution.
Another similar exercise book written perhaps a decade after Lavigna’s is I-Mc
Noseda Th.c.141, entitled Introduzione allo studio del contrappunto. The author is Vin-
cenzo Fiodo (1782–1862) who studied in S. Maria della Pietà dei Turchini under
Giacomo Tritto and Alessandro Speranza. Fiodo’s approach clearly follows the same
syllabus as Lavigna, and makes a very extensive and flamboyant use of diminutions,
especially on scales.
A later source comparable with Fenaroli’s approach is a collection of exercises by
Claudio Conti (1836–1879), 31 Corso di armonia, partimenti armonizzati e contropunto
(I-Nc 15.7.12), written probably at the beginning of the second half of the nineteenth
century. Conti’s collection, a large volume lavishly bound in red Moroccan leather,
offers at cc. 74r-81r (and later on at cc. 93r-193r) a counterpoint course very similar
to Lavigna’s. There are differences in the (much lesser) degree of emphasis on dimi-
nutions, and in the fact that VI appears as a structural degree along with I and V in
the earliest stages of the cadenze. This modified version of Fenaroli’ syllabus is also
followed by Corso di contrappunto, manuscript I-Nc 84.3.53(9), written a quarter of
a century later (1875) by Paolo Bono, a student of Nicola d’Arienzo. D’Arienzo was
a distinguished composer and theorist, who championed introducing into modern
practice a scale composed of two Phrygian tetrachords.32 A still later witness of this
practice is found in another Corso di Contrappunto (I-Nc 46.1.48) written in 1879. The
student, Nicola Spinelli, was a pupil of Paolo Serrao, a distinguished teacher who had
among his students Franco Alfano.
The answer to the second question—how widespread Fenaroli’s approach to coun-
terpoint was—is more problematic. During the tonal period, diminution had a looser,
less direct connection with the pedagogy of composition than more solid disciplines
such as counterpoint or thoroughbass: its procedures were transmitted mainly through

30 Sala 1794.
31 Claudio Conti, composer and teacher, was a student of Gennaro Parisi and Saverio Mercadante
at the Collegio di Musica S. Pietro a Majella. For further details see Caroccia 2004, 113 n. et
passim.
32 d’Arienzo 1878. D’Arienzo wrote also a treatise in composition: Scuola di composizione musicale
(d’Arienzo 1900). See Sanguinetti 2001.
Diminution and Harmonic Counterpoint 17

improvisation and performance. At least, that’s the picture we get from the “official”
sources like printed treatises or manuals (except for some thoroughbass treatises such
as those by Gasparini and Niedt): but, in my opinion, if we rely on these sources ­a lone,
our information is bound to remain largely incomplete. Music teaching has always
been transmitted orally, from teacher to student. Printed manuals were sometimes
used, sometimes not; if they were used, very often they were modified or supplement-
ed during the lessons. A more precise picture of the way composition was taught in
the past must rely more on manuscript sources like exercises books or students’ lesson
notes: these can provide a glimpse of real day-to-day life in a composition workshop.
Perhaps a more complete picture of these sources will give an answer to this question,
and to other questions regarding composition pedagogy.

Some (Provisional) Conclusions

Let us summarize some basic principles behind Fenaroli’s approach to counterpoint


­teaching:
1. At the beginning of their studies, students must learn to elaborate, in as many
different ways as possible, some basic harmonic-contrapuntal paradigms: these
paradigms were: cadenze, scales, and simple bass patterns, called “bassi di combi-
nazione;”
2. Even if not stated explicitly, the passage from simple, whole-note models to the
more elaborated ones often imply a generative process;
3. Only later would the students proceed to apply the patterns to musically conceived
exercises: the “bassi di composizione” and the “disposizioni”;
4. An important aspect of pedagogy was the continuous variation and recomposition
process of the same basic patterns. 33
There are some affinities between this syllabus and Schenker’s agenda. The most
striking is, of course, the similarity between the cadenze and the Schenkerian Ursatz,
both in the structure and in the fact that they are both susceptible to generate diminu-
tions. However, superficial affinities like this should not be overemphasized. First of
all, the Ursatz is not a cadence: it is the overarching structure of a whole composition,
not a closing formula. On the other hand, neither are Fenaroli’s cadenze cadences—
nothing in the text suggests that they are intended as closing formulae; rather, they
are the initial, elementary harmonic structures upon which the student can create his
diminutions. In this sense, cadenze are closer to Schenker’s Ursatz than to cadences.

33 The latter point was a constant feature of Italian pedagogy: at times, students were required to
set the same text twenty times or more (Rossini’s six different settings of Metastasio’s Mi lagnerò
tacendo are perhaps a vestige of this practice).
18 Giorgio Sanguinetti

The difference between the Ursatz and the cadenze lies more in the breadth of the
generative process in which they are involved rather than in their inner structure. The
Ursatz is the elemental structure of tonal music; not only does every successive layer of
diminution originate from it, it is also immanent, conceptually present behind every
detail of the surface. The cadenze too are the elementary structures of tonal music;
but, after the initial exercises, they are replaced by other tonal models: scales, bassi di
combinazione, and bassi di composizione. One could speculate that a cadenza might be
considered the “background” of a scale or a basso di combinazione, but this would bring
us too far into the conjectural realm.
One additional aspect of cadenze deserves some attention. The passage from the
counterpoint treatise ascribed to Fenaroli quoted at the beginning of this article states
that “the three fundamental tones of the Bass [are] the first, fourth, and fifth of the
key, upon which rests all Music.” This idea echoes a famous passage from Fenaroli’s
Regole musicali (1775): “All music is nothing but a chord of first, third and fifth. Out
of the seven tones of Music three are fundamental, namely the first, the fourth and
the fifth of the tone.”34 Of these three ‘fundamental tones’, however, only two can be
found in the cadenze, I and V; the third of these “fundamental” degrees, IV, enters only
in the last level of diminutions, when the diminution process involves the bass. This
discrepancy between the theory and the practice of teaching is, on one hand, an im-
plicit admission of the lower structural status of the pre-dominant harmony, another
Schenkerian idea. On the other hand, it could also be evidence that “official” sources
like treatises or printed manuals, may provide only an incomplete picture, especially in
the context of a strong oral tradition.
Although the idea of a connection between the hypernationalist German Schenker
and a distant, Mediterranean tradition might seem bizarre, there are several points
where the two traditions can be said to meet. First, as I have already mentioned, in
the eighteenth century, many Italians—and among them many Neapolitans—lived,
worked and taught virtually in every musical center of Europe. German composers
often studied with Italian teachers, as Haydn did with Porpora. Secondly, Viennese
harmonic theory (one tradition upon which Schenker relied) bore clear affinities with
the Neapolitan tradition: both were grounded on figured bass, scales and cadences,
and both were “conservative” in respect to the more “progressive” German theory. 35
Clearly, generative diminution and harmonically oriented counterpoint have little to
do with the more ideological aspects of Schenker’s thought, such as the ideas of “abso-
lute Diminution” and “streng organische Bindung”: they have more to do with surface,

34 “Tutta la musica altro non è se non un accordo di prima, terza e quinta. Dei sette toni della Musica
tre sono fondamentali, cioè la prima nota del tono, la quarta, e la quinta” (Fenaroli 1775, 1).
35 See Wason 1985, xiii. Apart from a passing mention of Bonifazio Asioli, however, Wason does not
mention any connection between Viennese and Italian traditions.
Diminution and Harmonic Counterpoint 19

or middle ground, phenomena rather than with the overarching Ganze. It is somewhat
an irony that, the more distant we feel from the ideology of organicism and unity, the
more historical evidence we find of many of Schenker’s insights.

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15
124 Giorgio Sanguinetti


      
1 2 3 4 5 6
              
  
15.1
             
          


I
     
1 2 3 4 5
                     
  

           
        


II 1
            
2 3 4 5

                 

           
        


                   
6 7 8 9 10

              

            
        



III 1
                                              
2 3 4
   
    
    

         
      

Vincenzo Lavigna, Ms. Noseda Th. c. 117, book 1, Cadenze


Diminution and Harmonic Counterpoint 125


                     
5 6 7 8
           

    
15.1
         
      


              
9 10 11 12
                

   

         
      


                       
          
13 14 15 16

        

         
        


 

               


17 18 19 20
 
      

         
      

 
            
IV 1
                        
21 22

   
      

         
   

Vincenzo Lavigna, Ms. Noseda Th. c. 117, book 1, Cadenze (continued)


126 Giorgio Sanguinetti


                          
2 3 4

                          
     
    

15.1
       
    


            
5 6
 
     

     
  

 
V1
                
7 2

               

         
   


   
3 4 5 6
                   

        
                   
      

Vincenzo Lavigna, Ms. Noseda Th. c. 117, book 1, Cadenze (continued)


Diminution and Harmonic Counterpoint 127

15.2

Vincenzo Lavigna, Ms. Noseda Th.c.117, book 1, the first manuscript page of Cadenze
128 Giorgio Sanguinetti



1
 
             
15.3
         
      


  
2
           
 

         
      


    
3
          

         
      


     
4
    
                   

       
        
#4 6 3 F 6 3 R
3 3

Vincenzo Lavigna, Ms. Noseda Th.c.117, book 1, scales


Diminution and Harmonic Counterpoint


129

 
5
                
    
15.3
      
 


5 6 5 6 5 6 5 6 F
3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3

       
               

      


6 5 6
3 3 3

    
6
          
         

      





                          

       

Vincenzo Lavigna, Ms. Noseda Th.c.117, book 1, scales (continued)


130


Giorgio Sanguinetti


7
           
          
    
15.3
     
 


           
           
     

       


  
8
        
    

     
 


8 7 6 H 5 8 7 H T

          
     

       


3 6 3 6 3 6 6 7 6

Vincenzo Lavigna, Ms. Noseda Th.c.117, book 1, scales (continued)


Diminution and Harmonic Counterpoint


131

9
                 
         
15.3
      


       
                   

       


   
10
    
                     

     
 


       
          
           

       

Vincenzo Lavigna, Ms. Noseda Th.c.117, book 1, scales (continued)



132 Giorgio Sanguinetti

 
11
                  
      
 
15.3
      
 


   
                       

      



12
              
            

     
 


        

                   

       

Vincenzo Lavigna, Ms. Noseda Th.c.117, book 1, scales (continued)


Diminution and Harmonic Counterpoint


133


1 2
         
 
[5 6 5 6 5 6 5 8] [10 6 15.4
         
 


3
                 

10 6 10 6 10 8] [10 6 10 etc.]

     

    


4
                  
   
[10 6 10 etc.]
   
  
   



5
                
     
[5 6 5 etc.]

        

Vincenzo Lavigna, Ms. Noseda Th.c.117, book 1, thirteen counterpoints on a bass descending by thirds and ascending by seconds

134 Giorgio Sanguinetti

 
6
                 
 
15.4 [10 6 10 etc.]

        


7
            
       
[10 6 10 etc.]

        


  
8
                         
 
[5 6 5 etc.]

      
  


     
9
                 
  
[5 6 5 etc.]

        

Vincenzo Lavigna, Ms. Noseda Th.c.117, book 1, thirteen counterpoints on a bass descending by thirds and ascending by seconds (cont.)
Diminution and Harmonic Counterpoint


135

   
10
                              
 
[5 6 5 etc.]
15.4
      
  


11
              
        
[10 6 10 etc.]

     
  


   
12
                            

[10 6 10 etc.]

        


     
13
                        
 
[5 6 5 etc.]

        

Vincenzo Lavigna, Ms. Noseda Th.c.117, book 1, thirteen counterpoints on a bass descending by thirds and ascending by seconds (cont.)
136 Giorgio Sanguinetti

                   
Soprano          


 
      
15.5           
Alto   
  
 
          
   
Bass       

    
 
    
               



       
  
     
        


          
      
      

                   
   
    

      
 
          

        
        
 
       

Vincenzo Lavigna, Ms. Noseda Th.c.117, book 4, Disposizione VI in three voices, with imitations
Diminution and Harmonic Counterpoint 137

                              
 

 
  
                    15.5

     
      
 
            

                       
 

       
           
    

                   
 
     

               

        
     




        
           
   

   
    
 
    
       

Vincenzo Lavigna, Ms. Noseda Th.c.117, book 4, Disposizione VI in three voices, with imitations (continued)
138 Giorgio Sanguinetti

                          
 



    
15.5                  
 

   
       
     
        

               
            



                  
          
   

             
 
  

                
 
             


                             

 
  
           

Vincenzo Lavigna, Ms. Noseda Th.c.117, book 4, Disposizione VI in three voices, with imitations (continued)

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