Note: It would be a good idea to consult the chapters on ‘Music of the Baroque’ and ‘The Concerto’ in the Study Area before studying this analysis.

Background and Overview
Vivaldi’s Op.8 was first published in 1725 by the Le Cène firm.  Split into two volumes both of six works, it is a collection of twelve concertos dedicated to the Count of Morzin.  The title given to the whole collection, Il cimento dell’armonia e dell’inventione (‘The contest [ or trial ] between harmony and invention’), has since presented musicologists with a something of an enigma.

“The Four Seasons” – the first four violin concertos from Volume One – have achieved the greatest celebrity of all of Op.8.  Their post-publication popularity was fuelled by the wider fashion for Italian instrumental music, especially in France; La Primavera (“Spring”) especially, was favoured in Paris’ Concert Spirituel as the à-la-mode concerto of the late 1720s and 1730s.

Much of Vivaldi’s work was abandoned during the nineteenth century.  Its revival during the twentieth century saw fresh, if often unfaithful interpretations of these virtuosic concertos become opportunities for leading violinists to prove themselves.  Thus “The Four Seasons” were re-established as favourites, resulting in the wealth of arrangements and recordings made in recent years.

Captured within the musical fabric of Op.8 Nos. 1-4 is much imagery, designed to evoke Vivaldi’s impression of each season’s characteristics.  With each concerto, Vivaldi included a sonnet, presumably written by him, and occasionally attributed certain lines to a specific musical passage.  The verses mention some of the less clichéd features associated with each time of year; analogously, the music also manipulates the Baroque concerto into innovative identities.  Each concerto, following contemporary practice, is constructed of three movements employing the fast-slow-fast framework.  The first of each adapts the favoured ritornello form to different extents.  The slow movements tend to be much shorter in length, and are through-composed.  Each third movement is also a variation of ritornello form, though “Winter” strays the furthest from this model.

Analysis

La Primavera (“Spring”)

The opening ritornello of Op.8 No.1 literally welcomes Spring’s arrival, not only explicitly by the first line of poetry, but also through the brilliance of E major and the buoyancy of repeated notes of the triad on which the theme is based:

This phrase makes the ‘question’ statement, or antecedent, by beginning on the tonic and ending three bars later on the dominant.  Vivaldi instantly reiterates this, directing the ensemble to play piano.  The forte ‘answer’ phrase follows, maintaining a tonic pedal until the perfect cadence after three bars, firmly fixing the music in E major; as if to make sure, Vivaldi also repeats this phrase piano.  These fragments serve to demonstrate the composer’s enjoyment in avoiding the preferred two- and four-bar phrases in other music of the time.

The excited birdsong interrupts here, as the solo violinist introduces the first episode.  Unlike many solo concertos by contemporary composers, the soloist here is joined by two other violinists from the ripieno (accompanying orchestra), rather than the continuo.  This gives the effect of an assembly of birdcalls intertwining in dialogue.  Their melodies are characterised by trills, rapidly descending scales, and repeated, staccato quavers, all in a high register.

After the restatement of just the consequent phrase from the ritornello, a ripieno transition section (1.14) emerges, based on the gentle undulation of paired semiquavers (“streams flow with a sweet murmur at the breath of Zephyrs”), tonic-dominant harmony and a broken-pedal bass.  These repetitive features delineate this section’s transitory function.

Other features drawn to the listener’s attention by their dramatic qualities include the “lightning, and thunder” (1.45) and the return of the birds “melodious incantation” (2.19) after calm has been restored.  Perhaps more impressive is the virtuosic solo episode based on fast arpeggios in rising then falling sequences (1.52).  Himself an accomplished violinist, Vivaldi’s episodic material in concertos for the instrument would frequently be among the most technically demanding of the repertory, certainly at the time.

Comparatively, there is less in the Largo e pianissimo sempre on which to comment.  The sonnet’s lines, inscribed at the top of the movement, set a scene across its entire length, rather than detailing singular events.  The ripieni set the scene: the violins uphold an oscillating figure throughout, to represent the murmuring of rustling trees; the viola’s insistent motif – “the barking dog” – as the bass, underpins everything.  The solo part, not a vehicle for virtuosity, is a lyrical, slow-moving melody, built on falling thirds.  This is labelled “the sleeping goatherd”, its serenity suggesting his peacefulness as he rests in the flowery meadow, next to his faithful dog.

The third movement, subtitled Danza pastorale, restores the brightness of E major in the form of a rustic dance.  Music in a ‘pastorale’ style is usually depicted through compound metre, melodies harmonised in parallel thirds or sixths, simple underlying harmonies, and drones in the bass instruments; this Allegro has all of these qualities.

Vivaldi launches into the first episode with another of his signature melodic sequences (0.35), which soars into the violin’s upper register.  As with many a similar sequence, this forms a linear intervallic pattern – a pair (usually) of harmonies, which recur as the melody and bass shift up or down in pitch – with the basso continuo’s own repeated figure.

It is pertinent that the soloist does not have such licence to do its own thing in this movement.  The setting is of just one section of the accompanying verse, relating to music-making and dance, so it is fitting that a constant tempo is kept (at least for the most part) and that similar rhythmic units are reiterated almost motivically between episodes.  This provides the stability and familiarity for the band of merry-makers, revelling in the appearance of Spring.

L’Estate (“Summer”)

Vivaldi’s interpretation of ritornello form in this concerto is radically different to that of “Spring”.  The opening ritornello here is instead a disjointed, monorhythmic and pianissimo idea, designed to convey man suffering the unbearable heat.  The initial four bars, in 3-8 time begin with a quaver rest, subverting the main beat and implying a shortness of breath.  He does however conform to the antecedent-consequent pattern of phrases, and rounds the section off with a cadential epilogue idea (0.29).

The onomatopœic cuckoo-call depicted in the first episode is cleverly woven into an agile solo part, in quadruple time.  The characteristic interval of a falling 3rd can be seen in Ex.2 below, distinguished by downward stems, and is comparable with Daquin’s keyboard work Le Coucou (also shown).

Recurrent subjects in the sonnets, birdsong and winds feature significantly in “Summer”.  The second episode (1.34) presents the songs of the turtle-dove and finch, emphasising a somewhat sinister minor-second interval and accompanied by an angular, spiky bassline.  In the transition, Zephyr’s West wind is mild, until it finds itself in conflict with Boreas’ North wind, at which point (in the tutti episode) demisemiquaver scales erupt (2.16) and the threat of a severe storm becomes more real.  This section has structural significance also, as it suppresses the original theme with material, for the orchestra, which is to form the end of the movement (3.45) in place of the expected ritornello. The shepherd’s reaction to the prospect of losing his crops is emotionally portrayed in the final solo episode, where Vivaldi’s sorrowful and highly chromatic melody (2.49) is given a thin, dissonant and equally chromatic chordal accompaniment.

Much like the second movement of La Primavera, this Adagio consists of much simpler melodic phrases, broadly in two parts: a ‘question’ and an ‘answer’.  The epilogue simply rounds off the two statements in one additional phrase, further reinforcing G minor – the tonic key unusually of all three movements – and in fact ‘rhyming’ with the end of the consequent phrase.

The dotted rhythm, played only by the ripieno violins and used to accompany the soloist’s melodies, is agitated and unsettling.  The shepherd, deprived of repose, is bothered not merely by the impending storm, but also by the gnats and flies thriving in the humid conditions.  This ostinato submits only to four menacing interjections from the entire ripieno ensemble; these rapid reverberations on one pitch (0.10) signify rumbles of thunder in the distance.

“The sky thunders and blazes, and hailstones cut off the heads of the proud-standing crops”.  In the monophonic opening of the Allegro movement, the first semiquaver of each of the first four bars forms a descending tetrachord (four-note scale).  After a general pause, this is transposed higher and repeated.  Emphasised against those familiar repeated semiquavers, this is surely the hailstones beating down unforgivingly, and thus Nature exerts her power over Man.  Scales and arpeggios begin cascading downward (0.11), with each one higher in pitch than the last, like the intensifying downpour.

Beyond the opening, there are no other lines of poetry attached; again, this can be attributed to the composer’s intention to create the impression of a storm throughout, rather than necessarily singling out distinct events.  The same virtuosity can be expected of the soloist during the episodes; wide leaps (0.46), double- and triple-stopping (0.59) and frenzied passage-work (1.26) are employed in abundance.  The role of the whole ripieno is augmented in this movement, involving a greater proportion of unison playing and antiphonal exchanges than elsewhere; this more collaborative effort certainly adds to the energy of the turbulent scene.

L’Autunno (“Autumn”)

It is not necessary at this stage to repeat many of the mechanisms of ritornello form already discussed.  The opening ritornello of L’Autunno closely imitates the formula of La Primavera’s first movement.  In fact, a comparison of the two betrays more than a passing resemblance in the actual melodic material also:

So far the harmony has been very limited; the first episode starts with the same material as the ritornello theme, expanding on this melodically, but adding no new harmonies; the second episode (1.11), labelled “the drunkard”, plainly, if dexterously, restates just the tonic arpeggio.  Subsequently, the soloist plays scales ending with an octave leap downwards (1.20); these finally bring foreign harmonies and, along with the series of unconventional transient modulations which follow (1.32), point towards the inebriated joviality of the peasants, celebrating the harvest.

The fourth episode provides the main point of interest in this movement.  It is in the tonic minor and marked Larghetto; prominent use of the minor mode is made in the two instances where sleep is alluded to in the previous sonnets – the slow movements of both “Spring” and “Summer”.  The long note-values and disjunct intervals are close cousins of the equivalent melody in L’Estate.  This time, the accompanying figure irons out the awkward dotted rhythms into equal quavers, and sleep, though liquor-induced, is successfully achieved.  Then, without any warning, the final ritornello reinstates the major mode and original tempo.  Unlike other examples by Vivaldi, this statement is a complete replica of the opening.
 
The slow movement of “Autumn” continues the theme of peasants slumbering in the fresher air, after their harvest celebrations.  Constructed of slow-moving melodic phrases, again in the minor mode, this short interlude sits on a progression of mainly dissonant harmonies.  Dissonance being an unstable state, ever striving for resolution, the music is propelled slowly forward without cease, as if reflective of the continuous train of dreams during sleep.

The restoration of F major in the third movement, in cheerful triple time, heralds the new dawn and the exuberance of the hunter.  In this theme, violins, in unison, provide solidarity in this cause and emulate hunting horns through the recurrence of pitches F and C.  The chase (3rd solo episode) is in full swing as the violinist’s sweeping C major arpeggios represent a beast (a fox?) trying to escape capture.  The noise of guns and dogs barking (1.36) causes the animal to make a final attempt at fleeing, but, wounded, its efforts become more sporadic (2.31) and it is eventually overwhelmed (2.40).  We can assume that the closing, near-complete ritornello (2.48) denotes the happy return of the hunters after their day’s entertainment.

 L’Inverno (“Winter”)

The iciness of the scene is captured immediately, as this unusual ritornello idea begins, through detached, repeated quavers (see Ex.4a) building to dissonant chords and harsh trills like shivers.  There is a lack of distinct melody until the second solo episode – the first is preoccupied with the chilling winds, depicted by swift C minor arpeggios and scales, higher each time in pitch.  The running and stamping of feet to keep warm (1.06) during the adapted ritornello is driven purely by its excited rhythms, and seems to be the central idea of the concerto; it is surely the most well known.  These rhythms themselves are more complex variants of the simpler original grouped quavers, and remain a feature of the movement to remind us of the theme (see Ex.4b).  The Eb major version of the theme refers back to the opening where pulsating quavers are piled on top of each other, though the major sonority softens the edges and hints at all the things about Winter which can be enjoyed.

The beginning of the second movement reads “Passing calm and contented days by the fire, while a hundred others are drenched outside”, and conjures a pleasant scene.  Throughout “The Four Seasons”, Vivaldi has favoured cooler weather and highlighted those opportunities Man has to overcome the trials of Nature.  Even here in extremes of cold, he sees the positive side, and focuses on our ability to control its otherwise detrimental effects.  The structural model of this movement is very similar to the slow movement of “Spring”, that of two parts, roughly equal in length, and containing much motivic overlap.  If anything, this movement approximates to a binary-form template in miniature.  One of the most popular movements of the entire work, this short interlude lays a cantabile melody onto a gentle bed of pizzicato broken chords, juxtaposing relaxation at the fireside with the constant drip-drop of the rain the other side of the windows.

Not averse to breaking with convention, Vivaldi deviates acutely from traditional ritornello form in the L’Inverno’s finale.  It begins with just the soloist accompanied by a pedal in the continuo, and when a tutti theme is introduced afterwards (0.21), it is far from the tonic-asserting ideas we have seen elsewhere.  The soloist’s opening semiquavers are ascribed “Walking on the ice”, and suggest the tentative footsteps of someone not wishing to slip.  Then as confidence grows, so comes the fall (0.41), as scales in the upper strings descend.  Detached semiquavers during the second solo allude to more carefree skating.  All the while, a sustained pedal note has been maintained either in the bass or inner parts, as if to situate the listener in that static environment where even the water stands still.  This illusion is broken, along with the ice, as the pedal point stops (1.32) and the whole ensemble’s rhythms become agitated.  After a short spell (1.47 – 2.12) where the serenity of Winter’s landscape and Man’s attempt to harmonise with it is restored, the winds pick up again and set in motion a continuum of demisemiquavers.  Despite the apparent frenzy this causes, and the choice of chilling F minor tonality, one cannot help feel that Vivaldi does not have a miserable outlook on this scene, but instead quietly revels in it.

At this point, compare 1.47-2.12 of “Winter” movement III with 0.00-0.44 of the first movement of “Summer”.  The metre and the motifs are the same, and their treatment is very similar:

In these two movements alone, is not the only similarity: during L’Estate: I the Boreas wind is mentioned (2.17) and the melody explodes into rapid ascending and descending runs; at Boreas’ return during L’Inverno: III (2.12), and until the end of the concerto, a series of comparable scales breaks out, also in demisemiquavers.  These and other recurrent themes in the poetry, paralleled in motivic links across concertos already discussed, hint that Vivaldi conceived this collection as a cyclic entity; currently this is conjecture.  Certainly through studying them jointly, a deeper appreciation can be gained.  However, each concerto can be heard and performed as a self-contained unit, and this is partly responsible for their aesthetic beauty and lasting success.

Further listening

• Vivaldi’s cello concertos (8.550910): hear how he adapts this medium for a different solo instrument.
• Bach’s arrangement for organ, BWV 593 (HCD31912), of a well-known concerto for two violins in A minor by Vivaldi, Op.3, no.8, RV 522 (CD98.107).
• Venetian contemporary, Tomaso Albinoni, also wrote a number of concertos during the early 1720s, including these for oboe (8.550739).

 Bibliography
Paul Everett: Vivaldi: ‘The Four Seasons’ and other concertos, Op.8; Cambridge Music Handbooks, ed. Rushton (Cambridge 1996)
Michael Talbot: Vivaldi; BBC Music Guides (BBC 1979)
Michael Roeder: The History of the Concerto, ed. Pauly (Amadeus 1994)