This chapter describes the principles and practice of anaesthesia for radiological imaging and interventional procedures. A comprehensive account of the assessment, planning and conduct of anaesthesia for these patients is given. Commonly performed interventional radiology procedures and their associated conditions are considered in detail. Consideration of the challenges of providing anaesthesia in ‘remote sites’, such as the imaging suite, is offered.

While the image of David’s military prowess was ubiquitous, the figure of David as penitent also provided a model for Louis’s kingship. This chapter explores a number of musical settings of centonized psalm texts composed for the singers of the chambre in the difficult circumstances surrounding his early reign that engage with the idea of a penitent king, a king responding to adversity through an intensification of personal devotion. As part of this process, Psalm 19, Exaudiat te Dominus came into particular focus, being appended to the celebration of Mass at the chapelle royale from the 1580s, and gradually becoming part of the wider liturgy of the French church. But although this psalm would later become associated with the chapelle royale of Louis XIV, it is clear that from the very earliest times it was heard as a prayer for the king in times of adversity or when he was under military threat.

This chapter explores how music and liturgy intersected with models of the monarchy that emphasized military prowess and strength. Shortly after Louis XIII had had Concino Concini assassinated in 1617, the figure of Saint Louis IX, crusader, model king, and literal forbear of Louis XIII came to prominence, with the elevation of his feast and with a new liturgy and hymns that emphasized how the saint emulated David’s model of kingship. At the same time, David himself, frequently portrayed as a musician, featured widely in pamphlets and psalm translations or paraphrases that invited the reader or listener to consider how Louis battled heresy as David battled Goliath. In musical terms, this interest was not manifest in the liturgy of the chapelle royale, but the musicians of the chambre and chapelle nonetheless sang psalms together at the king’s mealtimes in the liturgy of Benedictio mensae, and in non-liturgical performances of psalm settings by Artus Auxcousteaux and others.

In comparison to Italy, chant reform in France after the Council of Trent followed a relatively haphazard path, with no centralized efforts to align chant declamation with humanist practice. At the Abbey of Montmartre, however, a cadre of clerics and nobles associated with members of the Guise family provided an environment in which chant reform may have followed strict humanist principles. Part of a strategy to bring the saint to whom the Abbey was dedicated, Saint Denis (now conflated with Saint Dionysius and even Pseudo-Dionysius), to greater prominence, the reform of this chant was also accompanied by the building of a large priory dedicated to Saint Denis and the Eucharist, and the composition (by Antoine Boësset) of a body of polyphonic music based on it. At the same time, another religious foundation, the Congregation of the Oratory of Jesus Christ, developed its own ‘reformed’ chant, this time abandoning the rhythms of antiquity for something much more flexible and ‘modern’. While both institutions were closely associated with the king, the chant of the Oratorians explicitly celebrated the idea of kingship, while the chant at Montmartre actively undermined it.

In the mid 1630s, as France faced an existential threat from the Spanish forces threatening from the Netherlands, Richelieu and Louis XIII turned to the Virgin Mary for protection. Having first expressed an interest in Mary in the early 1630s, by 1637 the situation was so dire that Louis began taking steps to dedicate the whole kingdom to the Queen of Heaven, formalizing this devotion in the famous Vow of 1638. That same year, Nicolas Formé published or prepared for publication three volumes of music: the famous Missa Aeternae Henrici Magni, two volumes of Musica simplex, and a set of eight Magnificats. All three works reflect a change in the devotional orientation of the court to a more Christocentric position, a position that is also reflected in paintings by Champaigne and Vouet that, though ostensibly relating to the Virgin Mary, place Louis prominently at Christ’s side. In this light, the motet added in to the mass, Ecce tu pulchra es, seems clearly to frame Louis as a new Christ, a model of kingship now more appropriate to the religious circumstances of the era.

In the context of musical ideologies based on either Biblical or Classical/Neoplatonic models, the introduction sets out how a study of the music produced as a response to the figure of Louis XIII might contribute to the wider discourse on ceremonial, power, and absolutism in early modern France. Although the issue of music and power is well-trodden territory for the reign of Louis XIV, there is almost no (music) scholarship exploring how the mechanism of ‘the arts’ and power might function during this earlier period. But taking Beetham’s reformulation of Weber’s famous definition of power as a starting point, it is clear that the liturgy of the Catholic Church acted as a legitimating framework, allowing the people of France to signal their approval of a conceptual system that taught that the anointed king ruled with God’s express consent. While musical sources that participate in this framework (indeed all musical sources) are relatively rare, by exploring previously overlooked fragments and incomplete works, it is possible to show how music, as ‘sounding’ liturgy, was used to highlight facets of a liturgical text that were considered significant, and how in turn it contributed to the broader framework of power.

A tradition and practice dating back centuries by which a monarch was welcomed into a loyal city by its dignitaries, clerics, and citizenry, the typical entrée in the hands of the last Valois kings was a spectacular festival, calling on all the creative resources of a city – artists, poets, architects, set designers, composers, and musicians – to produce a visual and aural feast that is generally considered to have given expression to the king’s power. Yet the concluding ceremony that took place in the city’s cathedral, in which a Te Deum was sung, has received almost no attention from scholars. This chapter identifies the liturgy used at this event and considers the role of the psalm central to the ceremony, typically Psalm 19, Exaudiat te Dominus. At the same time, a corollary ceremony, the ‘Te Deum’ was also frequently performed in Paris, it too placing frequently placing Psalm 19 at its center. In contrast to Fogel’s reading of these events, both were as much prayers for the safekeeping of the king in a time of profound national turmoil as they were celebrations of his victories.

Beginning with an analysis of the ceremonies held to celebrate Louis XIII’s capture of La Rochelle in 1628, this chapter explores how the psalms became central to the identity of the French monarch over the course of the sixteenth century. Originally ‘shared’ between Catholics and Huguenots, translations of the psalms into French began to adopt a more sharply divided confessional identity by the 1560s. At the same time, the concept of kingship, which had for some time been inspired by humanist writings, began to reflect Biblical models more closely. Jean Bodin’s seminal Six livres de la république of 1576, for example, was followed by numerous other treatises that framed the king as an agent of God in the temporal domain, especially after the assassinations of Henri III and Henri IV. By the time Louis XIII came to the throne, then, King David, author of the psalms, agent of the Holy Spirit, and known for his musical talents, had become the preferred model of kingship, a model that provided the context for numerous psalm translations, and for the identity of Louis XIII himself, now viewed as the perfect musician, warrior, and king.