six. So a harmony that would embody all the superparticular ratios between 1 and 6 would be a perfect
harmony, and a music that employed such harmony would be a perfect music. In effect, that meant adding a
major third (harmonic ratio 5:4) above the fourth and a minor third (ratio 6:5) above the major third,
producing a very sonorous spacing of tones, a kind of ideal doubling of the triad in six voices (three roots,
two fifths, one third), as shown in Ex. 15-1.
EX. 15-1 Gioseffo Zarlino’s senaria (chord of six), based on CNowadays this configuration is recognizable as the beginning of the natural harmonic series (or
“overtone” series), which since the eighteenth century has been the standard method of explaining the
triad and asserting its “naturalness.” Zarlino, needless to say, would have jumped for joy to see this
confirmation of his rational speculation in the realm of “natural philosophy.” But nobody knew about
overtones as yet in the sixteenth century.
What people certainly did know is that when pitches were stacked up in this way they sounded good.
In rich textures of five and six voices, which were increasingly common by the late sixteenth century, this
ideal spacing and doubling was widely practiced, and compositions ended more and more frequently with
full triads sonorously spaced. (See the end of Sennfl’s luxuriant parody of Josquin’s Ave Maria in Ex. 14-
7 for an illustration of the practice in advance of the justification for it.) Now both of these harmonically
enriching practices—larger vocal complements, triadic endings—had a properly “theoretical” support.
They were among the finishing touches, so to speak, that defined the ars perfecta as the last word in
harmony.
“IL ECCELENTISSIMO ADRIANO” AND HIS
CONTEMPORARIES
The other main finishing or perfecting touch that distinguished the “classic” polyphony of the mid-
sixteenth century higher genres (Mass and motet) was the full rationalization and codification of
dissonance-treatment, a polishing or smoothingout process if ever there was one. Here again, Zarlino was
the authoritative theorist, but in matters of high gloss he confessed his particular indebtedness to his
revered teacher and mentor, to whom he never referred except as il eccelentissimo Adriano, “the most
excellent Adriano.” We know him as Adrian Willaert. Thanks in part to Zarlino, Willaert looms in history
as the great mid-century stylist.