Excellent tunes! If everyone's first exposure to classical music was the Four Seasons, more of them might develop an interest. Appreciation came late to me.
One of the things I bought for myself this Christmas was a recent recording of this music by Anne-Sophie Mutter (not to be confused with Anne Sophie von Otter, the singer I was raving about last month). It is quite good and a bit unlike many performances. But,if you have only one recording of the Four Seasons, this is not the one to have.
She is accompanied by a rather small group -- The Trondheim Soloists. I would agree with the reviewer's notes included with the CD, that this work departs from the lushness of a full-bodied red and adds the spirit and airy complexity of a good bubbly.
FYI and possible interest, following are the Italian sonnets published along with the music and intended as a program for the music that followed. Of course, you already know this, but sending the material your way now, enables me to avoid still longer, the large pile of work on my desk.
SPRING
Joyful Spring has arrived,
the birds welcome it with their happy songs,
and the brooks in the gentle breezes
flow with a sweet murmur.
The sky is covered with a black mantle,
thunder and lightning announce a storm.
When they are silent, the birds
take up again their harmonious songs.
And in the flower-rich meadow,
to the gentle murmur of leaves and plants
the goatherd sleeps, his faithful dog at his side.
To the merry sound of a rustic bagpipe
nymphs and shepherds dance in their beloved spot(sheep sex?)
when Spring appears in its brilliance.
SUMMER
Under the merciless summer sun
languishes man and flock; the pine tree burns,
the cuckoo begins to sing and at once
join in the turtle-doves and the goldfinch.
A gentle breeze blows, but Boreas
joins battle suddenly with his neighbor,
and the shepherd weeps because overhead
hangs the dreaded storm, and his destiny.
His tired limbs are robbed of their rest
by his fear of the lightning and the heavy thunder
and by the furious swarm of flies and hornets.
Alas, his fears are well founded:
there is thunder and lightning in the sky and the hail
cuts down the lofty ears of corn.
AUTUMN
The peasant celebrates with song and dance
the pleasure of the rich harvest,
and full of the liquor of Bacchus
they finish their merrymaking with a sleep.
All are made to leave off singing and dancing
by the air which now mild gives pleasure
and by the season which invites many
to enjoy a sweet sleep.
At dawn the hunters
with horns and guns and dogs leave their homes:
the beast flees; they follow its traces.
Already terrified and tired by the great noise
of the guns and the dogs, and wounded it tries
feebly to escape, but exhausted dies.
WINTER
Frozen and shivering in the icy snow,
in the strong blasts of a terrible wind
to run stamping one's feet at every step
with one's teeth chattering through the cold.
To spend the quiet and happy days by the fire
whilst outside the rain soaks everyone.
To walk on the ice with slow steps
and go carefully for fear of falling.
To go in haste, slide and fall down:
to go again on the ice and run,
until the ice cracks and opens.
To hear leaving their iron-gated house
Sirocco, Boreas and all the winds in battle:
this is winter, but it brings joy. |
