Tune of the Day: Autumn
The great Baroque composer used music to paint an idyllic country scene and gave us a timeless work of art. The leaves turn golden, the mornings are crisp, you turn the heating on for the first time in months. That wonderful hint of autumn is in the air, and it's time for Vivaldi. Vivaldi's The Four Seasons are four violin concertos composed in Venice, Italy, at the height of the Baroque era in 1720. The Four Seasons. Violin concertos by Antonio Vivaldi composed at the beginning of the XVIII century.No copyright infringement intended. The rights of this s. / Unsplash Comprised of four violin concertos written by Antonio Vivaldi in 1723, The Four Seasons is probably the Baroque composer's best-known work. Each of the four concerti is based on a sonnet —supposedly written by Vivaldi himself.
This is the third of four violin concertos that make up Antonio Vivaldi's popular cycle known as The Four Seasons. Like the other concertos, “Autumn” is made up of three movements, with the usual fast-slow-fast scheme. Its music was written to depict pastoral scenes and events described in a sonnet that accompanies the original score.
Vivaldi Fall From The Four Seasons Violin Music
Celebrates the peasant, with songs and dances,
The pleasure of a bountiful harvest.
And fired up by Bacchus' liquor, many
End their revelry in sleep.
Everyone is made to forget their cares and to sing and dance
By the air which is tempered with pleasure,
And by the season that invites so many
Out of their sweetest slumber to fine enjoyment.
The hunters emerge at the new dawn,
And with horns, dogs and guns depart upon their hunting
The beast flees and they follow its trail;
Terrified and tired of the great noise
Of guns and dogs, the beast, wounded, threatens
Languidly to flee, but harried, dies.
La Primavera (Spring)
Opus 8, No. 1, in E Major
I. Allegro--
Festive Spring has arrived,
The birds salute it with their happy song.
And the brooks, caressed by little Zephyrs,
Flow with a sweet murmur.
The sky is covered with a black mantle,
And thunder, and lightning, announce a storm.
When they are silent, the birds
Return to sing their lovely song.
II. Largo e pianissimo sempre--
And in the meadow, rich with flowers,
To the sweet murmur of leaves and plants,
The goatherd sleeps, with his faithful dog at his side.
III. Danza pastorale. Allegro--
To the festive sound of pastoral bagpipes,
Dance nymphs and shepherds,
At Spring's brilliant appearance.
L'Estate (Summer)
Opus 8, No. 2, in G minor
I. Allegro non molto--
Under the heat of the burning summer sun,
Languish man and flock; the pine is parched.
The cuckoo finds its voice, and suddenly,
The turtledove and goldfinch sing.
A gentle breeze blows,
But suddenly, the north wind appears.
The shepherd weeps because, overhead,
Lies the fierce storm, and his destiny.
Vivaldi Seasons Autumn
II. Adagio; Presto--
His tired limbs are deprived of rest
By his fear of lightning and fierce thunder,
And by furious swarms of flies and hornets.
III. Presto--
Alas, how just are his fears,
Thunder and lightening fill the Heavens, and the hail
Slices the tops of the corn and other grain.
L'Autunno (Autumn)
Opus 8, No. 3, in F Major
I. Allegro
--The peasants celebrate with dance and song,
The joy of a rich harvest.
And, full of Bacchus's liquor,
They finish their celebration with sleep.
II. Adagio molto--
Each peasant ceases his dance and song.
The mild air gives pleasure,
And the season invites many
To enjoy a sweet slumber.
III. Allegro--
The hunters, at the break of dawn, go to the hunt.
With horns, guns, and dogs they are off,
The beast flees, and they follow its trail.
Already fearful and exhausted by the great noise,
Of guns and dogs, and wounded,
The exhausted beast tries to flee, but dies.
L'Inverno (Winter)
Opus 8, No. 4, in F minor
I. Allegro non molto--
Frozen and trembling in the icy snow,
In the severe blast of the horrible wind,
As we run, we constantly stamp our feet,
And our teeth chatter in the cold.
II. Largo--
To spend happy and quiet days near the fire,
While, outside, the rain soaks hundreds.
III. Allegro--
We walk on the ice with slow steps,
And tread carefully, for fear of falling.
Symphony, If we go quickly, we slip and fall to the ground.
Again we run on the ice,
Until it cracks and opens.
We hear, from closed doors,
Sirocco, Boreas, and all the winds in battle.
This is winter, but it brings joy.