#sammartini

[lesser-known-composers]

Sammartini - Symphony For Strings In C Minor, J-C 9

Aradia Ensemble - Kevin Mallon conductor

1. Allegro 2. Affettuoso 2:24 3. Allegro 6:28

[hypersausage-blog1]

#Munrow&Marriner #Telemann #Sammartini #Handel #DavidMunrow #NevilleMarriner #AcademyofStMartinintheFields . . . . . #vinyl #vinylcollection #vinylcollector #record #recordcollection #recordcollector #album #LP #musiclover #classicalmusic #recordoftheday #photooftheday #ig_photooftheday #recordplayer #turntable #munrow #marriner #recorderconcertos #recordermusic #recorderplayer #orchestralmusic https://www.instagram.com/p/BoXbrx5ALQu/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=8gnuuifq1t82

[sochinetz-blog]

#Giuseppe #Sammartini in my #Electronic #arrangement #Останки #затонувшего #корабля #Колашин #ЧёрноеМоре #Сочи #Remains of the #sunken #ship #Kolasin #BlackSea # Sochi #underwater #freediving #rusty #metal https://www.instagram.com/p/BnyrgpTFQEa/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=wbmtjl4t4nbr

[lesser-known-composers]

Sammartini - Symphony For Strings In C Minor, Aradia Ensemble - Kevin Mallon conductor 1. Allegro 2. Affettuoso 2:24 3. Allegro 6:28

[robmarsatizay]

NO COMMENT - Episode #8 - Immigranti ed emigranti a confronto -

[lesser-known-composers]

Sammartini - Symphony For Strings In C Minor, J-C 9 

Aradia Ensemble - Kevin Mallon conductor 1. Allegro 2. Affettuoso 2:24 3. Allegro 6:28

[markseow]

Memorial concert for Christopher Lloyd (1921-2006) 2 March 2016

Bach BWV 202, Sammartini Recorder Concerto in F Charlotte Schoeters, Tabea Debus, Patrycja Lesnik, Mark Seow, Laura Rickard, Jordan Bowron, Josh Salter, Benedict Williams. Great Dixter, Northiam.

[yourmusicquestions]

Sounding Together #1: Sammartini, Symphony in F Major (1740)

Unless you are a serious student of music history, you are probably unfamiliar with the name Giovanni Battista Sammartini. He belongs to a category of historical figures whose names are not widely known and whose accomplishments are not widely studied, but who had a profound impact on their respective fields. Sammartini, like a slew of other eighteenth century composers, has become overshadowed over time by names like Bach, Handel, Vivaldi, and Haydn. So I was quite surprised, when I started searching for sources on the origin of the symphony so I could figure out which symphony to listen to first, when Sammartini’s name kept popping up. I was expecting to find a bunch of posts saying that no one knows the true origin of the symphony, but largely giving credit to Haydn, who is after all the “Father of the Symphony,” right?

Well, as it turns out, Haydn isn’t the only one to carry that title. And though Haydn wrote a lot of symphonies and solidified the symphony as an art form in its own right (as opposed to just musical fluff at the start of an opera), the musical form existed before Haydn became famous for it. And Sammartini--along with another composer who we’ll look at next time--is partly to thank for that.

Let’s back up for a moment: what exactly is a symphony? Well, it’s difficult to say. Much like a lot of musical forms that would develop in the classical era, the word doesn’t really have much of a definition. Symphony literally translates to “sounding together,” and was for a long time used in its Italian form, “sinfonia,” to describe any piece of music that used multiple instruments. The classical definition of symphony would develop later, to put it in its simplest form, it’s a large, multi-movement orchestral work, usually given quite a bit of weight and seriousness.

The form came from two musical genres of the Baroque era of music. The baroque suite, a multi-movement collection of dance music which would show off a composer’s skill at writing several different styles of music, and the Italian overture, which was a short, light piece played before an opera, usually having a contrasting fast-slow-fast form. So the symphony developed as a form that made use of contrasting styles and could be used to show off the many different ways in which a composer could write: fast songs, slow songs, dance music. The form remained, however, a very light and simplistic musical form, meant to be played as background music and not taken too seriously. As a result, symphonies were, by necessity, formulaic in nature, because often a composer had to write one in a short amount of time, or several in succession, and couldn’t devote the time and energy that he would devote to, say, an opera. Easier to plug some melodies into a standard formula and call it good. It was essentially the equivalent to doodling on the piano at a party or in a hotel lobby. No one’s really listening anyway, so do whatever and keep it easy.

Sammartini would begin to change all that, specifically by beginning to write his symphonies using the sonata form. The Sonata would become the central musical form of the classical era, and the first movements of symphonies (and in many cases, the last as well) would invariably be written in Sonata form. This is a three-part form, where two themes are presented (one in what’s called the tonic key, and one in a different key, the dominant key), and then developed, and then brought back again as they were, but this time both in the home key. This is an oversimplification, but I promise I’ll talk in more detail when I dive into the piece itself. I found one blogger who used a really nice analogy to describe the sonata form. She said it’s as though two people are having a debate, each presenting their differing arguments, then developing and expanding on those arguments, and then coming to some sort of mutual conclusion. (I’ll link the whole post here. She is also talking about Sammartini’s symphony.)

I’ve used the analogy of the sonata being like a story, using the same three act structure. We have the exposition, where we’re introduced to our characters and setting and main conflict. Then the plot develops, things start to happen, the characters grow and change. And then they return to the status quo, just as things were before, only now the characters have grown to overcome the conflict. Both of these analogies involving things we all experience in our everyday lives, which is why I think the Sonata form was so compelling, especially as the intellectually driven Age of Enlightenment was getting underway.

The thing I really like about Sammartini’s symphony is that it’s essentially a microcosm of the symphonies that would later emerge. It’s very short, spare, and efficient, not wasting any time with extraneous fluff. And yet there’s a certain energy to that, like this is the Big Bang of symphonies, with all the energy and possibilities that all the future symphonies will contain inside this tiny, twelve-minute piece of music. Honestly, the only reason I picked this symphony in particular is because it’s the first one I came across. I could have picked any Sammartini symphony and come to the same conclusion. But this one works.

We start, in the first movement, establishing the key of F very firmly, as is common in classical symphonies. After a nice, brief little theme, we transition into something new, changing the key to C so gradually that you barely notice if you’re not listening for it. Then, we get another nice little theme, and wrap up the exposition, firmly establishing the dominant key of C. The whole thing takes about thirty seconds, and is then repeated. Next, we have the development section, containing some familiar material from both themes, as well as some new material, but not lasting really very long at all before launching into the recapitulation. Later symphonies will have development sections that practically take up the entire movement, but in this one, it’s very short. The recapitulation plays through the opening theme, just as before, but then as it’s about to transition into the dominant key, it struggles a little, departs from what was previously played in the exposition, and then settles back into familiar territory with the second theme, but now instead of changing keys, we’ve stayed in the home key of F, where the section concludes. And, as is also common, the development and recapitulation sections are both repeated together. The whole movement is less than three minutes long.

The first movement is the intellectual movement of the symphony, the place where the composer can show how well they can compose to a formula. The second movement of the symphony, in contrast, is more about the sound, how well a composer can compose a lyrical, beautiful melody. And Sammartini can, very well. He writes a lovely second movement, which doesn’t have an established form per se, but does play with some lovely themes, going back and forth between minor and major tonalities in a hauntingly beautiful way.

Though four movements would later develop, Sammartini’s symphonies contained three movements: a fast sonata, a slow lyrical movement, and then something to wrap things up, either another sonata or a dance. In this case, it’s another sonata, but written in a dance-like way, a little more lively and light than the intellectual first movement, though still acting as a microcosm for the Sonata form. It’s worth noting that at this stage in the development of the symphony, the second movement is easily the longest, mostly by virtue of it being at a slower tempo than the other two. This would later shift, usually to favor the first and last movements as the “weightiest” movements. Though in this case, those movements do still seem to carry more weight. It’s easy to do an in-depth analysis of the first and third movements, because they are simple and spare and adhere to form. But with the second being more lyrical, it’s very easy to get lost in the beauty of the melody. This is emotional music, rather than music just for its own sake.

The symphony would still have a long way to go, but it’s easy to see why Sammartini also earned the title of “Father of the Symphony.” Even after years of analyzing classical symphonies and sonatas by more famous composers, I don’t think I ever came across something this clear-cut and this efficiently written, and I kind of love it for that. It’s easy to say that this is one of my favorite symphonies because it’s short, but it really kind of is. Short and to the point.