Winter is here! There’s nothing like waking up, breathing crisp, fresh air, and seeing a field of diamonds out your window.

Antonio Vivaldi wrote 500 concertos, though musicians will say that he actually wrote the same concerto 500 times. Most of these concertos are given really interesting titles – for example, “Violin Concerto in D” or “Violin Concerto in E” or maybe even “Violin Concerto in F.” In a sea of compositions with very similar names, four of his concertos stand out above the rest (not surprisingly) because they bear a title that suggests something extra-musical. The Four Seasons (having nothing to do with Franki Valli) are four Baroque concertos that musically capture the spirit of the respective times of year – Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall. This sort of use of extra-musical influences is known as Program Music, and is commonplace nowadays. If a composer today wrote a piece called “A Cold Winter’s Day” or “The Ice Storm”, we wouldn’t think twice about it; in fact, we would probably begin making assumptions as to how the piece would sound, built on the musical ideas handed down through generations of wintery composers. But in 1720, for Vivaldi to write a Concerto that captures the spirit of winter AND to title it “Winter” was out of the ordinary.

In this concerto, Vivaldi paints winter by beginning in a minor mode with static, unchanging harmony (a dead, dreary landscape), then building into fast scales (blowing wind). Later, we hear a sweet song sung by a warm fireplace, before having to walk back out into the bitter cold.

Thanks to elementary-school music classes and “Row, row, row your boat”, canon is a musical term that is pretty well known. Even if you didn’t pay attention in music class, you probably recognize the term from going to, basically, any and every wedding ever.

You can find canons throughout all of music history. To this day, student composers write canons as part of their training. Canons range from being super simple to outrageously complex.

Cesar Franck wrote canon into many of his works – this was a bit odd for the romantic era, which tended to favor emotion and drama over form and structure. Franck’s canons, however, perfectly fit the aesthetic of the romantic era, and never sound forced or out of place. His Sonata for Violin and Piano is a stunning work and favorite of violinists & pianists (and flutists, who also lay claim to this work.)

Interestingly, Franck’s most famous composition, also with a canon, can be heard alongside Pachelbel’s, at “any and every wedding ever.”

Throughout history there have been numerous female composers; their place in society prevented nearly all of them to remain obscure and their music unheard. Even with all the progress made in modern society, women composers (living and dead) still are unjustly considered second-class. Just consider this – the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra did not accept female musicians until … ready for it? … 1997.

1997! Seriously?
It took them that long to join the 20th century?!?!

I need not go into great detail on this issue because there are plenty who already have done it far better than I can. What I can do is encourage you to listen to Clara Schumann. (Clara’s husband, by the way, was also a composer. Not surprisingly, his Wikipedia article is longer – but not by much.) In a way, she is the figurehead for the advancement of women composers. Her writing was so good, so much better than most of the schlock that was being pumped out by many of her male contemporaries, that she simply could not be ignored. And since her, things have been steadily improving for female musicians and composers, albeit slowly.