Late Bloomer

Three hundred years ago, Antonio Vivaldi published The Four Seasons. But despite the work's spectacular popularity today, it was not until the 20th century that it really discovered its true audience, writes Nicholas Kenyon

- Nicholas Kenyon

Late one evening when I was in the middle of writing this article, I was standing by my local bus stop checking my phone for the next arrival time. In a scene all too common these days, a cyclist swooped by me, snatched the phone, and was gone in an instant. More irritated than angry, I went home to report the theft and got on the landline to my service provider. And lo and behold, as I was on hold, there came the soothingly cheerful sounds of ‘Spring’ from Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons. It was difficult not to feel cheered by the coincidence. And then, just the other day, as Season 2 of the excellent Netflix series The Diplomat launched, there was the Vivaldi again, ushering us into a glamorous ambassadorial reception at Blenheim Palace.

This just reinforces what we have known for some time: that in myriad different ways, Vivaldi’s Four Seasons have become one of the most usable, recyclable, familiar and popular classical music works of the age. And their attraction cannot be based entirely on the poetry which is attached to them, nor to their programmatic content (which doesn’t get recited while you are on hold). The four concertos are brilliant, punchy, upbeat, concise pieces of music, each with three movements lasting a few minutes each. In this, they are music for our time – for an era of short attention spans, seemingly designed for those not yet into the full-scale concertos of Brahms or Rachmaninov, offering refreshing bursts of attractively energetic music-making.

Yet this does not quite explain the phenomenon of the