Antonio VIVALDI (1678-1741)
The Four Seasons (1725)
Concerto No 1 in E major, ‘Spring’, Op 8/1, RV269 [9:10]
Concerto No 2 in G minor, ‘Summer’, Op 8/2, RV315 [9:52]
Concerto No 3 in F major, ‘Autumn’, Op 8/3, RV293 [10:56]
Concerto No 4 in F minor, ‘Winter’, Op 8/4, RV297 [8:49]
Victoria Sayles (violin)
The Piccadilly Sinfonietta
rec. October 2021, St George’s Headstone, Harrow, UK
SLEEVELESS RECORDS SLV1032 [38:51]
My MusicWeb colleague Philip R Buttall has previously reviewed this release in welcome detail and I refer you to his review for both more background information and his judgement of its merits, as any reiteration of his points would be otiose and I find myself in agreement with his response.
There is no one way to play this most popular and ageless of “classic classics”; I have half a dozen versions on my shelves of remarkable stylistic diversity and no doubt some other collectors have many more embracing even more diverse approaches, but I do not find that my enjoyment is much diminished regardless of the recording I choose to play. Thus, I hugely enjoy performances on traditional instruments such as the plush, V8 account by the youthful Anne-Sophie Mutter with Karajan and the VPO in 1984, Salvatore Accardo’s stately, vintage version from 1968, so slow as to sound almost like a different piece of music from sprightlier renditions, Nigel Kennedy’s frenetic pyrotechnics in 1989 with the ECO, or the much subtler, more “period aware” recording by Fabio Biondi with the Europa
Galante ensemble in 1991.
This debut release from the Piccadilly Sinfonietta, made in the same three-day recording session in which they recorded three of Bach’s Piano Concertos, simultaneously released and which I am also reviewing, is capitalising upon the interest and enthusiasm they had garnered from live performances of the work – a brave decision, considering the sheer number of competitive recordings already available.
There is no doubt, however, that it is indeed a most enjoyable rendition. Lead violinist Victoria Sayles is fleet, flexible and highly engaged; her technique is brilliant and her ornamentation discreet, and she eschews excessive vibrato, often playing “straight” with a pleasingly lean, astringent tone matched by similarly transparent textures of her supporting ensemble, who often provide a kind of drone acting as a cushion for her top line. Modern instruments are employed, but the performance is also decidedly “historically aware”, as the tempi, sound and feeling are all very period baroque without their approach ever sounding too dry or sparing. The storm sections are thrillingly animated and percussive, although I imagine that some listeners used to the Big Band sound would like to hear a little more instrumental weight; however, this is, after all, chamber music, and it is the Sinfonietta not the Sinfonia playing, so their numbers are audibly reduced to only eight players. While this is essentially a conventional interpretation, there are one or two surprising innovations such as the slapping, col legno and pizzicato effect in the last movement of Autumn and the opening of Winter is chilly enough to remind me of Purcell’s Cold Song “Let me freeze”.
This is a highly desirable recording of what is essentially the first and most famous example of “programme music” – a term sometimes employed disparagingly by those not enamoured of the genre but as a defender of works such as Strauss’ Alpine Symphony
(admittedly a piece requiring slightly larger resources), I love it. There is one massive obstacle to this release, however: 39 minutes of music for around £11 or £12 is no bargain by today’s standards.
Ralph Moore
Previous review: Philip R Buttall
