Showing posts with label baroque. Show all posts
Showing posts with label baroque. Show all posts

Saturday, December 13, 2014

Antonio Vivaldi: The Red Priest


I've decided to quit apologizing for the long breaks between posts, as the frequency with which I post an article is about as often as I get a good night's sleep and have a day to sit back and figure out where the heck I am and what the heck I'm doing! That said, finals are bested, the Fall 2014 final grades are in (at least the ones that matter), and I'm flying high for Christmas break. What better time to write about one of the most fascinating Italian Baroque composers, whose music seems to be heard more often at the holiday times anyway. After all, he did write a whole concerto about Winter.

Antonio Vivaldi was a later Baroque composer, born in 1678 to a humble family in Venice. Whether due to the fact that he was a sickly baby, or the fact that there was an unsettling earthquake the day of his birth, the newborn Antonio was baptized immediately and dedicated to the priesthood in the off chance that he survived to adulthood. As a child, he studied violin and composition from his father as well as from the music director at St. Mark's in Venice.

Despite his obvious musical talent, his infant vows were kept, and after 10 years of study, Vivaldi was ordained as a priest in 1703, at the age of 25. He was much more interested in his music than his priestly duties however, and used his continuing poor health (likely severe asthma, based on the symptoms he described in his correspondence) as a bonafide reason to be granted an exemption from performing mass, and other expected activities for a newly ordained priest. However, Vivaldi did not expect to give up public service completely. Shortly after his entry into the priesthood, he became the violin instructor at the Ospedale della Pieta, an "orphanage" for, in most cases, the illegitimate daughters of noblemen, who were unwilling to acknowledge their daughters' parentage but were happy to provide the best support and education for them.

Vivaldi, whose red hair inspired the nickname "The Red Priest," worked with the Ospedale for over 30 years, teaching general music and strings, as well as composing much of the repertoire that the girls played. Later on, he was appointed music director for the entire program. Under his tutelage, the orphanage's orchestra and choir earned international acclaim. This employment justifies the complaint that I have occasionally heard about Vivaldi's work--it's at times very note-y, and seems to play like a technical etude. Well, that's what many of his concertos were. They were written as part of his curriculum for training his young violin students, and often intended as nothing but passage work etudes. The fact that he was able to write etudes which stand alone as respectable solo works is in and of itself a tribute to Vivaldi's genius.

Some of the characteristics of Vivaldi's concertos--the most famous of which by far are the four violin concertos which make up the Four Seasons--are indeed the technical passage work, the abundance of harmonic sequences (most likely included as part of the girls' music theory education), and a descriptive style reminiscent of word painting techniques of early Italian madrigals. These concertos became widely popular throughout Europe and inspired many transcriptions and arrangements.

Although he maintained his position with the orphanage, later in life Vivaldi began to travel more and also gained success in the opera scene, a portion of his work which many musicians today are unfamiliar with. By the end of his career he had published somewhere between 50 and 100 operas, many of which are lost today. Despite his religious training, Vivaldi actually had issues getting some of his works past the censor boards, because of librettos which included cross-dressing and homosexual relationships.

Because of his work with the orphanage, Vivaldi managed to avoid being locked into the patronage system so common in the Baroque period. However, a great part of his income was generated through commission work for private individuals as well as performing for audiences as prestigious as the Pope. As a priest, he never married, although he maintained a close friendship and suspected romantic relationship with a young singer, Anna Giro. Vivaldi protested whenever insinuations were made, and there is really no evidence for or against a liaison between the two.

Antonio Vivaldi, circa 1725
In 1740, the 62 year old composer left Venice permanently with the intent of taking up residence in Vienna, Austria, most likely to work in the court of Emperor Charles VI. who had expressed great interest in his work. Unfortunately, the emperor passed away and Vivaldi had no source of income in the new city. Ill health prevented him from becoming active in the music scene of Vienna, and in the summer of 1741, Antonio Vivaldi passed away and was was given a pauper's funeral without any music.

Much of his fame was forgotten in the following years, and it wasn't until the efforts of performer/composer Fritz Kreisler in the early 1900s that interest in Vivaldi's music was revived. Over 600 of his works have been cataloged, and as of ten years ago, more were still being discovered. Conversely, only 3 portraits of the composer have survived.

Saturday, October 4, 2014

Jean-Baptiste Lully: the Italian Frenchman

Wow! It's been a long time since I've posted, and I'm afraid I've rather forgotten the elaborate plan I had for conquering the Baroque period. Getting married will do that to you. So rather than go into great detail on the technical side of things, we'll look at the lives and works of three major Baroque composers from three different countries: the French composer Jean-Baptiste Lully; the master of the Italian baroque, Antonio Vivaldi; and likely the greatest genius of them all, the German Johann Sebastian Bach. Hopefully this will cover most of the ground needed to properly understand this pivotal period in music history.

Interestingly enough, while Lully is known for being a pioneer of the French baroque style, and especially of French opera, he was actually born Giovanni Battista Lulli, an undeniably Italian name, in the undeniably Italian city of Florence. As a child in a working class family, he picked up enough skill as a dancer and a violinist to earn extra cash as a street entertainer. When he was 14, he caught the eye of a passing French nobleman who had been instructed to visit Italy and bring back a companion for his royal niece, who needed practice with her Italian.

So it came to pass, that in 1646, the boy moved to Paris, and very quickly fell in love with the people and the culture of France. As a court entertainer, Lully had the opportunity to work with the best French composers of the day. It was not long before he began to develop a distaste for the practices and styles of the Italian music of his childhood.

When his employer moved away from the city, 20 year old Lully resigned in order to stay in Paris, making his living by writing and dancing in court ballets. It was one of these performances in which the young dancer impressed the 14 year old Louis XIV, who was to become Lully's lifelong patron. At this point, France was for all practical purposes ruled by the young king's guardian, which left Louis free to pursue entertainment. Ballet and music was one of his passions, and he took an instant liking Lully. It was not long before Lully replaced an older, and much more experienced, Italian composer as Louis XIV's personal music director.

Because the king's guardian was an Italian cardinal, there was considerable Italian influence in Paris at the time, including several productions of Italian opera. Many of the French noblemen did not appreciate this art form, and Lully whole-heartedly agreed. He took it upon himself to collaborate with various French poets and playwrights and create a whole new breed of opera.

These productions were in the French language and moved away from many of the Italian operatic practices. Instead, Lully mixed recitative and aria together, used more natural and predictable poetic forms, and scored his works for a variable ensemble.

In 1661, the year that Louis XIV took over the rule of France upon the death of his guardian, Lully
finally was granted full French citizenship. It was at this point that he changed the spelling of his name to reflect his love for his adopted country. For the next twenty years, Lully produced operas and ballets for the royal court and the people of Paris. He continued to hold considerable influence through his position in court, and was fairly proud of the fact. By 1681 he was signing his works: Monsieur de Lully, escuyer, conseiller, Secrétaire du Roy, Maison, Couronne de France & de ses Finances, & Sur-Intendant de la Musique de sa Majesté. (Don't ask me to translate all that!)

Unfortunately, in 1683 the king grew disenchanted with the entertainment that Lully provided. The new queen brought a much more puritanical air to the court, and Lully's liberal lifestyle choices were suddenly not nearly as acceptable as they had been previously. He retained his position at court but lost some of his friendship with the king.

Sadly, it was also his career that indirectly ended his life in 1687. As a baroque conductor, he did not use a baton but instead a staff which he thumped on the ground to keep the group together (similar to a middle school orchestra director banging his pen on the stand). Unfortunately, when Lully was conducting a piece in celebration of Louis XIV recovery from surgery, he impaled his own foot with the end of the staff. Whether this came about through carelessness or a little bit of pouting, it didn't end well... his foot developed gangrene and he died shortly afterwards from complications.


Despite his undignified exit from this world, Lully did much for the musical world of France during his life time. He brought liveliness and attitude to instrumental works, and made the whole genre of opera accessible to his country. He also introduced the French overture style, which carried over into much of baroque and classical music, French or otherwise. Even Beethoven used it to open his Pathetique sonata. This particular style was a slow, stately march in duple time, often used an an introduction or overture to a larger work. It is characterized by frequent dotted rhythms in the melody and thick, chordal accompaniment.

A classic example of Lully's French Overture style is the overture to his 1670 collaboration with  French playwright Moliere. La Bourgeois Gentilhomme is a comedie-ballet, or the French version of the ballad opera. The premier of this work boasted a start-studded cast, including both Moliere and Lully playing roles.

Monday, May 19, 2014

Baroque Beginnings

The last couple of weeks have been full of travelling (Adam), wedding planning (me) and other sundry life happenings that tend to sneak up behind you and trip you when you're not looking (also me). But I'm back for now, and have some interesting topics to get to work on.

In last couple posts in this series, we tied up the Renaissance period of music history, both in the secular and sacred genres. As we move into the Baroque, there is less distinction between the two, and they progress in basically the same direction, so you'll be hearing a lot less about the dichotomy between sacred and secular.

First off, let's examine the term "baroque." Today, it is simply used to describe various styles developed in the arts between 1600-1750(ish). However, it was originally applied to the time period as an epithet by 19th-century art critics, implying that one was wrinkling one's proper classical nose at the gaudy, overly ornamented style of visual art or music prevalent during this period in history. But, as I have been reminded three times in the past couple months by three different history professors, art history is not a linear progression: we are not moving from good to better to best. Each time period had its strengths and weaknesses, and those classical critics would have done well to remember that. Either way, "baroque" is no longer considered a derogatory term and you can use it safely without be arrested by the Politically Correct Police. (Such an organization exists, trust me. Especially on Facebook. They're kind of like the Grammar Nazis.)

If you recall, the Renaissance period finished with a bang, full of crazy dissonance, over-the-top dramatics, and elaborate text painting. Towards the end of the period, there was a group of intellectuals who called themselves the Florentine Camerata (Florence Club) that met regularly to discuss the state of the world, and more specifically that of the arts. One of them, Vincenzo Galilei (father of the more famous Galileo Galilei of gravity and heliocentrism), write a fairly complex treatise on the reasons why the popular music of the day was not as effective as the ancient musics. He also added his two-cents on how music should change for the betterment of society rather than its amusement.

He said a lot of things in this work, a lot of them not very complementary to the current state of the arts, but one of his main arguments was that music should be used to better the state of society rather that simply to amuse or please our senses. Galilei felt that the popular style of text painting was useless in that regard, as it only described what was occurring in the text and did nothing to incite an actual change of heart in the listener. He also argued that the thick polyphonic textures were so complex that they were a distraction from any single purpose. His solution to this problem was for composers and musicians to consider themselves actors or even lawyers, so to speak. Music could be used as language, to convince the listeners to take on a certain "affect" or, state of being.

This led, naturally, to a change in styles. Instead of focusing strongly on contrapuntal textures, Galilei argued for the use of monody, or compositions made up of one primary voice with harmonic accompaniment. This would bridge the gap between single line chants of the very ancient times and the multi-voiced polyphonic works of more recent styles.

Galilei's intellectual theories sparked a radical change in compositional practice, leading to the birth of the ubiquitous basso continuo line that persisted throughout the Baroque period and even somewhat into the Classical (Beethoven himself included a continuo line with figured bass in a few of his compositions). However, I've spent so much time talking about the theory that practice will have to wait till the next post. When that time comes, I'll start by defining the whole basso continuo idea, and then we'll move on to some of the seminal composers of the period.

Saturday, January 11, 2014

From Monks to Metal: A condensed history of western music

Well, maybe not quite as far as metal. That’s a story for another day, and probably another writer. But we are going to start with monks. When Sulli asked me to think of a series, we spent a couple of late night hours trying to brainstorm and getting nowhere. Then I looked to my upcoming class schedule for inspiration. Theory IV... not a good place to start. Aural Skills IV? Can't exactly teach solfege in a blog post. Class Piano and Recital Class are completely off the table. Then it hit me. Starting next week, I’m beginning a 3 semester journey through the history of western music. And before somebody starts to freak out and think and I’m talking about country-western, this term refers mostly to European sacred and art music from the common practice period (roughly 1550-1900). 
I love history, I love music... and its a subject that would be fairly easy to translate into something fun to read while still being useful and information. So here you have it. This is the first post in a series that could potentially last a year and a half.
The foundation for this type of music was laid in the church music tradition dating back to the inception of organized Christianity. Our studies will take us from the early church modes moving through the Baroque, Classical and Romantic periods to the Contemporary styles. We may even touch on some of the post-modernistic writing going on today.
Every two weeks, I will take what I have learned and condense it into a post for you all. By time it’s finished you and I (hopefully) should be able to ace any college level music history exam. That being said, today’s post will be fairly short for two reasons. First, because this is only an introduction to the series and second, because I haven’t actually learned anything in my class yet. Unless of course you count course policy and evacuation procedures.
                So what exactly are we going to be learning? Yes, there will be birth place and death dates of the important composers for each period, but that’s not really going to be the focus. Instead, we will discuss the melodic and harmonic rules of western music, and how they are added to, modified, or scratched completely as music has developed over the last 500 years or so. There will probably be a discussion of Johann Fux’s rules for counterpoint that he wrote down in the early 1700s (and don’t worry, it’s pronounced ‘fooks’), and of course the various church modes that date back to the 600s A.D.

                We’ll also find out why old chants sound mysterious and Romantic music sounds… well, romantic, and what it was about Stravinsky’s “Rite of Spring” that was so revolutionary that its first performance included a riot started by offended concert goers. Also, we’ll see how events and trends in history were reflected in the music of the day, and sometimes even vice versa. And of course, there will be a discussion of compositional forms and their conventions and unconventional digressions.
                If none of that means anything to you, don't worry! I'll do my best to make it as user friendly as possible. And if you have questions, or want to know more about a certain subject, well that's what the comment section is for! Glad to have you along for the ride.