Case Study V:
Finally, we delve into one of my favorite pedagogical tools: the Rule of the Octave. This powerful rule has been used to teach students the art of realization (and, eventually, composition), as well as various improvisatory possibilities.
Before we journey into his world of ideas, let us first glance at the life of this remarkable Neapolitan virtuoso, whose artistry and innovations left a lasting mark on the history of the cello.
Salvatore Lanzetti (c. 1710–c. 1780) was a pioneering Neapolitan cellist and composer who played a crucial role in advancing cello technique. Trained in Naples, he became a court musician in Turin in 1727 before touring Europe, spending significant time in London and Paris. His 12 Sonate a violoncello solo, Op. 1 (1736) introduced groundbreaking techniques, including thumb position and extended fingerings, earning praise from Michel Corrette. Lanzetti’s virtuosity helped elevate the cello as a solo instrument. Around 1770, he published Principes ou L’application de violoncelle, a key pedagogical work that we will soon partially examine. He later returned to Italy, resuming his role at the Teatro Regio in Turin.1
THE WORK:
Salvatore Lanzetti's "Principes ou l'application du Violoncelle par tous les tons" serves as a pedagogical method to teach students how to compose embellished melodies over a given bass line. Lanzetti follows the principles of the Rule of the Octave, laying out ways to compose a melody above an ascending and descending scale. Although this particular source is well-known, the method that it suggests should be more encouraged as a mode of improvisation practice. This is an invaluable pedagogical source that helps us grasp the contrapuntal knowledge of these Neapolitan virtuosi.
Another noteworthy aspect of Lanzetti's writing is the clear structure of his melodic patterns, where a distinct tune follows the strict rules of the Rule of the Octave. His approach is simpler—and, I dare say, less experimental—than the works of the previously analyzed composers. Yet, it still serves as a fine example of improvisatory suggestions for his students. It is important to remember that Lanzetti belonged to a later generation, one that was moving toward a more galant and classical style. As such, the complexity of counterpoint was starting to give way to the new aesthetic tastes developing across Europe.
As we transition toward the end of the Baroque era, we see that pedagogical methods begin to take on the form of published works (rather than manuscripts), which is the case with Lanzetti’s writings. Earlier manuscripts from the Neapolitan maestri did not provide clear instructions on how to approach these “sketches” of composition. However, all the autographs and copies made by scribes lead us to a simple conclusion:
Their work was not only aimed at teaching students how to improvise but, more importantly, providing them with the tools necessary to compose in the future. This reflects a key aspect of being a musician, which was highly valued in the 17th and 18th centuries. I also strongly believe that the earlier works, such as the sinfonie and partimenti of Rocco Greco, Francone’s passagagli, and Supriani’s toccate, were performed and appreciated as complete musical works, becoming much more than mere pedagogical exercises.
Case Study VI:
A recently discovered manuscript testifies to the relevance of the rule of the octave for Neapolitan low string pedagogy. Held in the University of California's library in Berkeley, this source contains the method of Antonio Guida (1750? - 1816), a prominent string player from Naples who was Ludwig van Beethoven's contemporary. Guida became one of the last Neapolitan-trained string virtuosi to study with Gian Carlo Cailò, the teacher of the great maestri Franceschiello and Supriani. Little is known about the cellist's life. It has been established, however, that Guida taught strings (not only the violoncello) in the Neapolitan conservatories and worked in the orchestra of the Teatro San Carlo from c. 1776-1779.2
The manuscript in question incorporates a series of etudes. These are organised in a two-voice structure: the basso plays a simple scale while a composed melodic line fills in the contours of the scale above the bass. Presumably the Maestro would play the lower line and the student would study the upper part. These exercises would allow young cellists to learn the rule of the octave in a way that was idiomatic for their own instrument.
Thus, Guida's method resonates strongly with Lanzetti's Principles. In both cases, the suggested exercises involve the rule of the octave and contrapuntal melodic principles, enabling students to compose improvised melismas within the framework of a scale. It is fascinating to trace how these methods help develop a harmonically informed virtuosity in the player, in line with methods written for the keyboard or plucked instruments.