The Four Seasons at the Seattle Symphony

There are a few pieces of classical music which are, unfortunately, so overplayed as to become jokes to roll one's eyes at.  For example, part of the reason why I still struggle with Beethoven is because everyone knows Für Elise, the Moonlight Sonata (movement 1), and his illustrious Ninth Symphony (choral section of fourth movement).  I have become increasingly sick of them, if for no other reason than because every amateur on the face of the planet will attempt, to a greater or more likely lesser degree of success, to play (read: butcher) select fragments of these pieces.

Notice how the 'Hammerklavier' never caught on, by the way.

Another reason why some pieces become nauseating to me is because they are used freely to caricature or conjure the atmosphere of a particular situation or time period.  Vivaldi's 'Four Seasons' for strings is a classic example of creating a courtly essence for anywhere from the 17th to the 19th centuries.  Aside from the point that clearly Vivaldi didn't live for 300 years, the sheer proliferation of uses of this set of works has trained me to quickly tune out.  This is a shame, because the four sets are strikingly original and exquisitely constructed.  It has been, in fact, more than a decade since I last purposefully listened to any of it.

So my presence at the Seattle Symphony's 'Four Seasons' program on the evening of December 29th was more of a fluke than anything else: I accepted a free ticket from a friend, and I have to admit that this was the first concert in quite a while that I have enjoyed from beginning to end - one that inspired me, filled me with wonder, and had me on the edge of my seat the entire time.

Vivaldi's work in this program is interspersed with another set of "Four Seasons" by 20th century Argentine composer Astor Piazzola, written as a set of four tangos, more or less actually danceable. In addition to providing the relief necessary for a full set of Vivaldi, this arrangement allows the soloists to rest and give their best performance, while directing the attention of the audience back and forth between a crisp aural experience and a sultry visual experience.

The first section, "Spring" of the Vivaldi began with a petite young woman on the solo violin, backed up with a compact string orchestra of classical dimensions.  As soon as she started to play, my thoughts were "This is so fresh!" and "Her baroque is just sublime."  With fluid bowing and flawless technique, crystal clear straight tones and brilliant, appropriately placed trills, combined with the energy of youth, I thought to myself that surely this young woman was channeling the spirit of young Hillary Hahn.

As the section ended, my companion turned to me and made some comment about "Simone Porter".  I did a double-take, scoured the program.  "That's Simone Porter?!"  Indeed, while I have heard of this rising star, I hadn't yet heard the real article.  And I still had three more sections of the Vivaldi to enjoy.

Piazolla's tango set began with "Summer", with SSO's Elisa Barston on solo violin.  She began to play a twisted dance, glimpses of the Vivaldi creeping in to comic effect.  In a few minutes, it became obvious that this performance wasn't going to be left to the instrumentalists alone.  With dramatic lighting from hard right and left, creating dark profiles, two dancers strode onto stage and began a typical Argentine tango.  It did not remain "typical" for long - as the music dictated, their dance became more and more flamboyant, with strong ballet influence demonstrated in the full jeté lifts and delicate arm placements of the female dancer.  

Thus set the stage, so to speak.  The remaining sections of the program unlaced the stays of the first two, opening up into more profound musicality, more sensual dance, going from the conventional to the abstract, step by step.  

With Vivaldi's "Summer", the Presto section opens into dizzyingly fast string crossing demanded of the soloist, and just as fast tremolos of the rest of the strings, to signify the onset of a summer storm.  Piazolla's answer with "Autumn" begins with the soloist bowing behind the bridge, evoking eerie screeches.  As the violin and the first cello intertwined their notes, the dancers began to intertwine themselves, with the male throwing his partner across the floor on her back, then coming down over her supine body in a passionate display of sensuality.  Lest the audience become altogether too uncomfortable, the section closed out the first half of the program.

After intermission and possibly cold showers backstage, Vivaldi's stately "Autumn" began.  The second movement was to me the most impressive of any in the program, with its sheer lack of virtuosity.  The low strings began in a sibilant murmur, building as the other sections joined in an unearthly groan.  (Here, I must complain, the harpsichord joined in with its usual lack of dynamic tact and rather spoiled the effect).  In full measures, gently evolving harmonies and evanescent top melodies from the soloists unwound note by note.  The third movement, by contrast, opened into a fun dance, punctuated with a short and heartbreaking B section as solo violin and cello again embraced each other's voices.

Piazolla's naked "Winter" section followed - easily the most melodically conventional of all four movements.  The dancers came in barefoot, no longer quite tango-ing, with bold modern dance evoking the desperation to leave and the necessity to stay.  Tension unwound in a very different way in this movement, as Ms. Barston dove into an impossibly long series of double-bowed intervals.

Naturally Vivaldi's vivid "Winter" followed, with its tell-tale fiery eight-note motive in all strings beginning unison and then unfolding into a chase.  I was struck for the first time by how much this section foreshadows 20th century harmony and techniques.  No longer wed to the rules of 18th century harmony, Vivaldi's full mastery of the strings is unveiled here.  Its minimalist short-bowing and atonality proved there was no need for 200 more years to play out before these techniques could be explored.  In a rather uncharacteristic tone, the third movement of "Winter" ends in a dark minor.

Finally, Piazolla's "Spring" introduces almost pure tango-style music, but the dancers, as they enter, seem to have little interest in such a dance.  Instead, they pick up a 30-foot length of virginal white gauzy fabric, tossing it in the air, wrapping themselves around it - evocative of flower petals or a veil?  Is it the beginning of a romance...or the ghost of love past?  It is left to the audience to decide.  

My final question at the end of the night was, "Who is the first cellist tonight?"  He shared some of the most exquisite moments with the leading ladies, pulling straining emotion into the darkest moments.  

Overall, this was the most balanced and best executed performance I've seen at Benaroya Hall in over a year.  The dancers were absolutely on-point.  All of the string players played as one.  The program was sensational.  I am eagerly looking forward to hearing more of Simone Porter's performances in the future.  

And best of all, perhaps, I do not dread Vivaldi so much as I did at the beginning of the evening.