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The Franco-Flemish Master and the Power of Emotion 7:23 Lena: It’s interesting because Palestrina is often called the "Prince of Music," but he wasn't the only giant of the era. I’ve heard the name Josquin des Prez quite a bit. How does his style compare? Was he also focused on this "perfection" and clarity?
7:40 Miles: Josquin is fascinating because he comes a bit earlier—he died in 1521, so he’s really the master of the "High Renaissance." If Palestrina is the "Prince," Josquin is often called the "Bach of the Renaissance." He was part of the Franco-Flemish School, which was the real powerhouse of polyphony. These composers were from what’s now Belgium and northern France, and they traveled all over Europe—Italy, Germany, France—spreading this new musical language.
8:08 Lena: And what was that language exactly? What made Josquin so "revolutionary," as I've seen him described?
8:15 Miles: It was his use of imitation. He treated all voices as equals. Before him, you often had one main melody and the other voices just kind of "decorated" it. But with Josquin, a short, catchy theme would move from voice to voice—like a conversation. He also leaned heavily into humanism. He wanted the music to reflect human emotion, not just divine order.
8:38 Lena: You mentioned "humanism"—that’s a huge theme in the Renaissance. How do you hear that in the music?
8:44 Miles: You hear it in how he connects the melody to the text. For example, in his motet *Ave Maria... Virgo serena*, the voices enter in this gentle, overlapping imitation that feels incredibly balanced and "human." But he could also be very dark and intense. He wrote a famous motet called *Absalon, fili mi* after the death of the Pope's son. It’s full of deep, low voices and these descending lines that feel like actual weeping.
9:12 Lena: That sounds like a big shift from the Middle Ages, where everything felt a bit more... detached, maybe?
0:35 Miles: Exactly. Josquin was the first to really make the "notes follow his bidding," as Martin Luther once said. Luther actually loved Josquin’s work because it felt alive. Josquin even wrote secular songs about everyday problems—like *Faulte d'argent*, which is literally about a man waking up after a night with a prostitute and realizing he’s broke and can’t pay her.
9:40 Lena: Wait, really? A Renaissance master wrote a song about that?
9:44 Miles: He did! It shows that these composers weren't just living in cathedrals. They were exploring the full spectrum of life—from the most sacred Mass to the grit of the street. And thanks to the invention of the printing press around 1450, Josquin’s music spread like wildfire. He was the first composer to have a whole book of his own music printed by Ottaviano Petrucci in Venice. Suddenly, a choir in Germany could sing the same music as a choir in Rome.