Some music-loving friends find it corny (but that’s why it’s so much fun, of course) that I coordinate so much of my listening to the changing seasons. Part of the reason I do this is that my imagination makes certain connections early on and the rest of me just can’t let go. On balance, I think it’s a good thing because it prevents me from overdosing on some of my favorite works. For example, I can’t listen to Mahler’s Third Symphony until the first day of summer (more on that work in a future post); I save that same composer’s “Song of the Earth” until the fall because there are colors and shadows in this music that remind me of late afternoon autumn light. Tchaikovsky’s First Symphony, “Winter Dreams,” has helped me welcome in this most forbidding season each year since I first heard it in college (I’m not much of a winter person, so music definitely helps keep my spirits up until spring returns). When a conductor programs Tchaikovsky’s First or “Nuctracker” ballet in the summer I think, “Hey, what’s up with that?”
As is evidenced above, seasonal words sometimes sneak into the titles of certain works, but those aren’t the only works I connect with particular seasons. Mahler’s Fourth Symphony doesn’t have a seasonal subtitle or a nickname, but for me it’s definitely summer music, the slow movement passing like high clouds against a bright blue sky as you gaze at them from a hammock. Ravel’s Dapnhis and Chloe ballet is summer muic for me as well, conjuring up sunlit Greek Isles and brilliant white-sand beaches. On the other hand, Sibelius’s seven symphonies are mostly winter fare for me: I’m sure Finland (the composer’s homeland) has perfectly beautiful summers, but for me much of his music has a bracing, wintry quality that’s both awesome and imposing.
Spring is a rich time for musical associations. In churches and concert halls around the world throngs are performing and listening to Handel’s Messiah and Bach’s epic Passions in celebration of Easter season. But there’s also plenty of other, “non-religious” music that conjures up spring, both as natural phenomenon and as a symbol of hope and renewed vitality. I haven’t done a count, but it seems like spring finds its way into more titles of works than any of the other seasons: Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring; Beethoven’s Spring sonata for violin and piano; Schumann’s Spring Symphony (his first); Copland’s Appalachian Spring; Britten’s Spring Symphony; Richard Strauss’s Voices of Spring; and Delius’s On Hearing the First Cuckoo in Spring; the “Spring” concerto from Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, to name but a few examples that come to mind. But there are also other works without the seasonal word in their titles that seem to have Spring written all over them, like Mahler’s First Symphony.
So as winter finally loosens its grip in the Northern Hemisphere and you get ready for your own springtime rituals – from taking out that baseball mitt or tennis racquet to planting your garden – here’s a list of five of my favorite works for spring listening.
1. Igor Stravinsky: Rite of Spring. So you’ve felt cooped up all winter and really want to let loose? Start with Stravinsky’s most famous (and riot-inducing) ballet. Stravinsky used the phrase “Pictures from Pagan Russia” in a subtitle, a reference to the work’s story line, which ends in nothing less than human sacrifice (oh, that!). In conductor Valery Gergiev’s version with the Kirov Orchestra you can feel previously sleeping life bursting through the long-frozen Russian earth with savage force. Buy on iTunes
Here’s a video clip of Mo. Gergiev conducting the first part of the Rite of Spring:
2. Aaron Copland: Appalachian Spring. Compared to Stravinsky’s ballet, Copland’s spring celebration is a much more civilized affair, as 19th century pioneers celebrate the raising of a new farmhouse. But the innocence and joy of the new season light up every bar of the work, and the famous hymn-like melody in the finale, from the Shaker tune “Tis a Gift to Be Simple,” leaves a lump in your throat as it builds to a noble climax. Bernstein’s recording with the Los Angeles Philharmonic is as authentic as it gets. Buy on iTunes
3. Gustav Mahler: Symphony No. 1. The quiet, shimmering strings that open this symphony conjure up the awakening of spring like no other work. Repeated cuckoo calls and brass fanfare from afar confirm that the new season is here to stay, beginning a romantic adventure that includes young love, a broken heart and, in the final movement, a triumph of renewed hope. There are many wonderful recorded performances of this symphony to choose from. Leonard Bernstein recorded it twice, in the 1960’s with the New York Philharmonic, and three decades later with Amsterdam’s Royal Concertgebouw. Both are classics.
Buy Bernstein’s recording with the New York Phil on iTunes
Buy Bernstein’s recording with the Royal Concertgebouw on iTunes
4. Gustav Mahler: Symphony No. 2, Resurrection. Despite the subtitle, this work features song lyrics that are taken from romantic poetry and not the New Testament of the Bible. In ways, the symphony continues the epic story that began with Mahler’s previous symphony. It’s a huge, sprawling work that is by turns terrifying and awe-inspiring as it charts the journey of the human soul from death to its reunion with the eternal spirit. If you’ve had a particularly rough winter, this work will lift your spirits like few others. Simon Rattle’s performance with the City of Birmingham Orchestra won a Gramophone Award and is justifiably famous. Buy on iTunes
5. Schumann: Symphony No. 1, Spring. Bright brass fanfares and boisterous timpani strokes give the first movement a jolt of joyous energy that lights up the whole symphony. From the blazing opening to the giddy spirits in the finale, Leonard Bernstein and the Vienna Philharmonic have plenty of fun and make the music dazzle. Buy on iTunes
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