In the post-Tridentine era, the balance between an increasingly standardized liturgy and the pulls of local custom contributed to the popularity of the motet. Unlike strict liturgical genres, motets made use of a wide range of liturgical and paraliturgical texts, a defining feature as noted by this book's editors, allowing these compositions to function in a wide variety of musical, political, social, and religious contexts. It is, therefore, little wonder the motet has attracted so much scholarly attention, especially in the past two decades. This collection is a welcome addition to the literature, presenting eleven eclectic chapters from leading scholars in the field encompassing exegesis, liturgy, an array of performance contexts, pro defunctis music, authorship, print culture, modal and textual analysis, and circulation across a broad swath of geography.

Defining a malleable idiom such as the motet presents dangerous pitfalls. Thankfully, rather than attempting to impose a narrow definition, the authors embrace the ambiguity of this genre. The flexibility and opacity are essential aspects of the motet in practice during the post-Tridentine era and this approach allows inherent parochial idiosyncrasies to surface. Kerry McCarthy addresses this head on in her discussion of the motet in Elizabethan England, where strict definitions are especially elusive as Latin was entirely separated from the official language of worship. The mere inclusion of England as a topic in a study on post-Tridentine music is refreshing, a nation where Catholic rites were against the law. The book's editors should be commended for soliciting contributions incorporating important elements of cross-confessional nuance. In his chapter, Christian Thomas Leitmeir notes an important neglection in musicology, as opposed to “the thrust of historical studies” that tends to embrace an anachronistically stark divide between confessional practices (154).

Music traveled freely across borders and, as Leitmer notes, “aesthetic preferences ultimately outweighed religious concerns” (174). A view at the contents of any number of influential edited collections of music circulating in German-speaking territories during this period—such as Florilegium Portense, discussed by David Crook in chapter 1—is a case in point. Florilegium Portense was a project of Erhard Bodenschatz and intended to illustrate the practice of vocal music at Schulpforta and provides a valuable cross-section of the German and Italian motet in the early seventeenth century. Both Crook and Leitmeir present thoughtful approaches to cross-confessional collections and go beyond reductive attempts to characterize certain prints as Catholic or Protestant.

Another welcome aspect of the collection—particularly for a book with Trent in its title—is an acknowledgement that the impact of the Council of Trent is often overblown in musicological literature. Judging by how it is often framed in musicology, one may be forgiven for thinking the Council of Trent was a years-long meeting predominantly concerning musical practice. John Griffiths bluntly states that Tridentine reform had little impact on the musical choices and predilections of instrumentalists. Indeed, many local practices were as much about eschewing the edicts of Tridentine reform as they were about adhering to them. The motet offered a way to sidestep the conflicting allegiances to tradition and innovation for musicians, composers, and artists working in the era.

This collection covers an astounding range of topics within the post-Tridentine world. Daniele Filippi's chapter deals with Carlo Borromeo's Milan in the years immediately following Trent—a figure closely connected to the center of Tridentine reform—while other chapters bring the reader to Martin Luther, solo instrumental music, and the motet in Iberia, Seville, and Granada. In addition to the better-known giants of early modern polyphony like Palestrina, Lasso, and Victoria, unfairly neglected composers such as Giovanni Cavaccio and Francisco Guerrero receive welcome attention. The editors clearly put a great deal of thought into the order of chapters, offering a cohesive, narrative flow rather than a series of loosely connected, disjointed essays. The authors refer to one another liberally, presenting the reader with a truly collaborative conversation. Although the collection will primarily be of interest to musicologists and music theorists, it will also be of great value to historians of religion.