This is part of a series inspired by Vivaldi’s Four Seasons and curated by Scott Noriega. You can listen to the playlist by clicking the button above and read on for Scott’s insightful notes on the pieces. I would recommend pairing the Summer Playlist with a Vermentino di Gallura. A wine made from Vermentino grapes grown on ancient granite soils in northern Sardinia. It’s like putting the nearby Emerald Coast in a glass: seaspray, refreshing citrus and Mediterranean herbs.
By Scott Noriega
Scott is a pianist, writer and music teacher from Queens, NY where he currently resides. Having run the academic gamut of degrees – from Bachelors to Masters and finally PhD – he is currently living his life a bit more: writing poetry, searching out pianistic repertoire, baking pastries, composing new music, and traveling, all while exploring the world of cocktails, history and music weekly on Instagram @telling_cocktails.
Antonio Vivaldi
(1678, Venice – 1741, Vienna)
Violin Concerto in g minor
For many of us summer (or in Italian L’estate) brings with it thoughts of warm weather, beaches, vacations, good food and drinks, and great friends.
Perhaps this is the reason that the second concerto of Antonio Vivaldi’s Le quattro stagioni or Four Seasons, the one representing summer, has always shocked me as a listener: where is the lightheartedness, the exuberant joy, and the happy-go-luckiness of the season?
Though it feels this way for us, Vivaldi paints a very different picture for those living and working in the sweltering conditions of the early 18th century: worry, fear, and angst due to the brutality of nature.
Allegro non molto
Sotto dura Staggion dal Sole accesa
Langue l’ huom, langue ‘l gregge, ed arde il Pino;
Scioglie il Cucco la Voce, e tosto intesa
Canta la Tortorella e ‘l gardelino.
Zeffiro dolce Spira, mà contesa
Muove Borea improviso al Suo vicino;
E piange il Pastorel, perche sospesa
Teme fiera borasca, e ‘l suo destino;
Adagio
Toglie alle membra lasse il Suo riposo
Il timore de’ Lampi, e tuoni fieri
E de mosche, e mossoni il Stuol furioso!
Presto
Ah che pur troppo i Suo timor Son veri
Tuona e fulmina il Ciel e grandioso
Tronca il capo alle Spiche e a’ grani alteri.
Fast, but not very
Beneath the summer’s unforgiving sun,
The man and the herd languish, the pine trees burn.
The cuckoo begins to sing and immediately
The dove and the goldfinch join in.
A light Zephyr blows, but Boreas awoken,
Quarrels with his neighbor.
And the shepherd weeps with dread as the tempest
moves in – and with it his fate.
At ease
His weary limbs are deprived of rest due to
Fear of lightning and fierce thunder
And flies and hornets swarming.
Very fast
Alas, his fears come true:
Thunder and lightning rage in the skies,
While hail cuts down the great wheat.
Muzio Clementi
(1752, Rome – 1832, Evesham)
6 Monferrinas, WoO 15-20
Muzio Clementi is remembered today, if at all, by a single piano sonatina (op. 36 no. 1) that virtually every piano student plays in their early training. That is an amazing fact given what he left us and what he was known for in his own day: he composed more than 100 piano sonatas, orchestral and chamber works, along with a slew of teaching materials such as the Gradus ad Parnassum; a whole school of pianism that was passed down via his numerous and famous students including John Field, Johann Baptist Cramer, Ignaz Moscheles, Johann Nepomuk Hummel, and Ludwig Berger, among others; he influenced both Beethoven and Chopin in their pianistic writing; he created a music publishing house and a piano manufacturing company in London; and he founded the Philharmonic Society of London (what became the Royal Philharmonic Society in 1912).
Not bad for a guy who wrote that impressive little sonatina, no?
These 6 Monferrinas were all composed in 1821, near the end of Clementi’s long life.
Monferrinas are lively folk dances originating in Monferrat in the northwest of Italy in a region called Piedmont, right on the border of France and Switzerland. The dance has since spread to much of northern Italy (Lombardy, Emilia-Romagna, Friuli-Venezia Giulia) as well as parts of Switzerland (Ticino). They were also extremely popular in England while Clementi was living there.
Their simple harmonies and catchy melodies are a breath of fresh air – like a cool breeze on a warm summer day!
Among the composer’s earliest operas, written when he was just around 26 years old, Cavalleria contains some of the most gorgeous music written in the late years of the century. Set in a Sicilian village, the story follows Turiddu, who begins an affair with the married Lola after being rejected by his former lover, Santuzza. When Santuzza reveals the relationship to Lola’s husband, Alfio, the dishonored husband challenges Turiddu to a duel. The outcome is pure tragedy.
The Intermezzo is played as the curtain is up, with the scene showing the empty village square on Easter Sunday. The tune one hears is based on a church hymn heard earlier in the opera, the music creating a sense of rustic peacefulness, the simplicity of country life, as well as foreshadowing the intensity of the moment before the final tragedy ensues – just listen to those string tremolos and try not to swoon!
Ernesto De Curtis
(1875, Naples – 1937, Naples)
Torna a Sorriento (Return to Sorrento)
As with much of musical history, the true origins of Ernesto De Curtis’s Neapolitan song Torna a Sorriento or Return to Sorrento are shrouded in mystery:
Tradition states that the song was composed in 1902, when the mayor of Sorrento wanted a small gift to give the Prime Minister Giuseppe Zanardelli, who was staying at his seaside resort, the Hotel Tramontano. He asked the poet Giambattista De Curtis to compose the lyrics and his brother Ernesto De Curtis to fashion the music for the project.
Even if we now date the work to around 1894, their reworking of their own earlier song has now become a classic – and a lovely song about the south Italian seaside and the passion of its residents.
Gaetano Donizetti
(1797, Bergamo – 1848, Bergamo)
Don Pasquale Overture
I feel summer in the lightheartedness of and the numerous colors present in the Overture to Donizetti’s magical comedy Don Pasquale. There’s hardly another six-minute work that I’d rather hear while strolling through the numerous cities or towns of Northern Italy or the picturesque countryside.
The only thing better than seeing this opera at La Scala in Milan – the tale of a cranky old bachelor who thinks he knows best how his nephew should live and whom he should marry – might be enjoying this tune out in nature with a small portable speaker…and a nice glass of Italian vino.
Ildebrando Pizzetti
(1880, Parma – 1968, Rome)
Concerto Dell’Estate
When Leslie first asked me to come up with a list of Italian seasonal works, I took out a piece of paper and began to think of one work that encapsulated the spirit of each season – other than Vivaldi’s gorgeous set of concertos.
The first work that I came up with for summer was Pizzetti’s remarkable Summer Concerto, his Concerto Dell’Estate, a work introduced to me years ago by a good friend.
Pizzetti considered this ‘Pastoral Symphony’ to be among his most important works. And one can see why – the Concerto Dell’Estate comprises three movements – the first, titled Mattutino (Morning) bursts forth with energy galore. It is the twentieth century’s equivalent of Mendelssohn’s Italian Symphony with a bit of Mahler and Respighi thrown into the mix.
The second movement, Notturno (Nocturne) feels like a cool summer evening, with its intense string writing, the solitary flutes, and the roundedness of the horns. It is as if Pizzetti is calling not for melancholy, but necessary solitude after a long and tiring day.
The third movement, Gagliarda e Finale, is based on the vigorous and athletic Italian fifteenth-century dance of the courts, the Galliard. As its name suggests it is spirited and brings the work to a cheerful, if subdued conclusion.
For me this music not only expresses emotions in sound, but it recalls memories…
Ferruccio Busoni
(1866, Empoli – 1924, Berlin)
All’Italiana (Tarantella) from Piano Concerto in C, op. 39
Ferruccio Busoni’s piano concerto is among the longest of any works in this genre – it is over 70 minutes in length and filled with some of the most immense technical difficulties. But it is also one of the greatest if one is willing to sit down with it from start to finish – a musical epic in the manner of Homer, Dante, Goethe or Shakespeare.
In the Tarantella movement titled All’Italiana Busoni has the music dance around the orchestra in a frenzied yet compelling way. Can anything scream summer warmth and passion more than the excitement he manages to coax from both piano and orchestra in this movement…
And if one ever wanted to know how it felt to dance the tarantella – the one that legend has us believe one danced in order to cure oneself from the bite of the Tarantula’s poison – then surely all one need do is hear the Busoni.
It’s as if I’ve danced the tarantella here without having ever moved my feet!
Barbara Strozzi
(1619, Venice – 1677, Padua)
Amor dormiglione (Sleepy Cupid)
Barbara Strozzi was one of the most prolific and the most published composers of secular vocal music in all of Europe during the middle Baroque era. She was also known for her fabulous voice. At a time when few women were able to achieve recognition as composers, Strozzi
published eight collections of music, including cantatas, arias, and madrigals that showcased her expressive melodies and emotional depth.
Her works are notable for their dramatic treatment of texts and their innovative use of the voice as can be heard in the lovely song Amor dormiglione. Here the protagonist sings to Cupid, the god of love, teasing and scolding him for being asleep instead of doing his job as the singer playfully asks him how he can sleep while lovers suffer, longing for the heart’s desire?
Ottorino Respighi
(1879, Bologna – 1936, Rome)
Fountains of Rome
Respighi’s Fountains of Rome is made up of four movements, lasting a total of about 16 minutes. Written as part of his great trilogy of tone poems (alongside Pines of Rome and Roman Festivals) each movement musically depicts one of the many fountains found in the city of Rome at various times of the day – as though one is musically walking through the metropolis, capturing impressions, as they see these magnificent water sculptures all during a 24-hour adventure: musical postcards, if you will.
And Respighi’s writing is as colorful here as ever – from the delicate nature of the first movement’s Fountain of Valle Giulia at Dawn to the boisterous energy of the Triton Fountain in the Morning, the nobility and grandeur of the Trevi Fountain at Noon to the magical effect of the Villa Medici Fountain at Sunset, one feels as though Respighi himself is guiding us through the sights and sounds of his beloved city.
Perhaps on your next trip to Rome you might take in the sights one by one in order as you partake in Respighi’s emotional impressions from over 100 years ago.
Domenico Scarlatti
(1685, Naples – 1757, Madrid)
Sonata in D Major, K. 491
So many composers have been inspired by birdsong: Janequin, Bach, Mozart, Couperin, Beethoven, Messiaen, Delius, Respighi, Rautavaara, alongside Vivaldi in his Spring Concerto and – I have no proof here, except what I hear – Domenico Scarlatti in a work such as his fabulous D-Major Sonata, K. 491.
The work begins with the trilling of birds in the higher registers, which are then echoed in the lower ones. The trills seem to be omnipresent here, until the boisterous bass note drones seem to break it all up. For me this represents the revelling of rustic celebrations – a truly pastoral scene.
The playfulness of the sonata – whether in more quiet ways or louder ones – always seems to be at the heart of this work.
Francesco Lecce
(fl. 1750, Naples – 1806, Naples)
Mandolin Concerto in G
Little for certain is known about the life of Francesco Lecce – we believe he was born at some point in the 1840s or 1850s and died some time in or after 1806. We also believe that he lived most of his life in or around Naples.
What we can be sure of is that he wrote one of the most stunning Mandolin Concertos of the later 18th century. And if Vivaldi’s Summer Concerto felt a bit less summery in our thinking than it could have with its minor-hued harmonies, Lecce’s lovely concerto surely fits the bill for a summery concerto in today’s mindset:
The opening Allegro feels joyous, even with the ominous-sounding solo punctuations of the mandolin. I hear in it a small, rustic town filled with bustling crowds – they are running through the town’s markets in the early morning hours.
The following Largo feels like a siesta of sorts – the brutal heat of the noontime sun, making everyone slow down. To enjoy a nap? A small conversion? Or perhaps a small glass of something special with a nice piece of bread and some cheese…
The lively Allegro balletto highlights the soloist in all his virtuosic glories – running notes moving up and down the fretboard. Is anyone willing to dance to this music? Yes, perhaps now that the sun has set!
Francesco Paolo Tosti
(1846, Ortona – 1916, Rome)
Luna d’estate (Summer Moon)
Tosti’s Luna d’estate is a song about love, one in which the protagonist talks to the Summer Moon – La Luna is here personified – about his unrequited or unfulfilled love for a certain lady who can give meaning to his life:
Luna d’estate, amore è come il mare
Ed il mio cuore è un’onda seza posa:
Ma solamente lo potran fermare
Le pupille e il labbro suo di rosa.
[Summer Moon, love is like the sea,
My heart, a constantly moving wave:
Yet it can only be stilled
By her eyes and her rosy lips.]
Perhaps it’s the seaside location, the warmth of the vocal line, or the swells of the orchestral accompaniment, but this little work just screams summer(!) to me with its numerous orchestral swells and its almost operatic-like solo line.
Adolfo Fumagalli
(1828, Inzago – 1856, Florence)
Passetemps sentimental, Nocturne, un nuit d’ete, op. 38
As with Chopin, virtually all of Fumagalli’s compositions were written for his own instrument – the piano. But unlike the Polish-French composer, Fumagalli became famous for the ingenious use of his solo left hand, composing quite a few works that shocked audiences upon first hearing – just how did he make the left hand sound like two hands when he played?
Not all of his works call for such virtuosity, though: this little Nocturne, subtitled a Summer’s Night, is made up of undulating broken chords in the left hand and songful melodies that occasionally turn into Bellini-like cadenzas in the right – he surely knew and played the music of Chopin as well as his contemporary Franz Liszt and it shows! But he was equally knowledgeable about the operas of his day as he often turned to them for thematic material for his own compositions and transcriptions.
This charming little piece is an original – and it perfectly sets one up for the relaxation of the evening hours
Vincenzo Bellini
(1801, Catania – 1835, Puteaux)
Vaga Luna (Beautiful Moon)
If Tosti’s plea to the moon seems boisterous and impassioned – sung in the early evening – Bellini’s by comparison seems melancholic and resigned, its gentle ebb and flow like a Venetian Gondola Song sung when the lights of the city can be seen in the distance, the moonlight gently reflecting on the water below.
Bellini’s bel canto melody is perfectly cushioned by the sound of the broken chords played on the piano here.
Forgive me for loving music about the moon and love – there’s just something about romantic feelings and this time of the day that gets to me.
And with that we say a gentle goodbye to the summer season in all its glory, passion, and, at times, its unbearable heat…
