PINE NUTS: Knowing Your Vivaldi
I know I shouldn’t write about things I know nothing about, but this has never been a deterrent to me in the past, so I’m hankering to write about Vivaldi, yes, that Vivaldi. So, recently inspired by Donna Axton’s Holiday Concert with the North Tahoe Community Choir, featuring Antonio Vivaldi’s Magnificat, I am writing on musical adrenalin alone. Yes, I am still high from the concert of a few nights ago…
I suppose all good music does that to us, though in this case, Vivaldi hit a vibrant chord that set me aglow. I felt a strong urge to attend a second performance scheduled for the next day, sing alongside Ariel Ramiriz, Ania Helwing, Mary Collins, and belt out the Magnificat in four-part harmony.
I actually did start to sing along in that first concert, and in my best contralto too, until a cold hand cupped my neck from behind, and I couldn’t breathe.
I always thought Vivaldi was a cream cheese that you pull a string to open, but then the string never works and you have to lick your fingers to get to the cheese. But I did a little research. I went to the refrigerator, fished around, and discovered my cream cheese was not Vivaldi Cheese at all, but “Laughing Cow.”
My Latin, weak as it is, fetched me up onto the rocks until I found a translation into Italian, and from that into English. Herein is the translation that reeled me in and made me a fan of Vivaldi… “Now she smiles, the lovely Mary, and heaven grows bright with a radiant glow. Her voice is a song, her eyes like the stars that shine above Bethlehem.”
Well, If that don’t fetch’em, I don’t know Bethlehem…
I’ve come a long way since fourth grade, when Miss. Blumberger introduced us to opera by playing a recording of “Madama Butterfly.” And I remember all too well, her announcing to our paralyzed class that, “Just because McAvoy does not appreciate this particular form of art, does not necessarily mean, ‘It stinks!’”
Anyways, should I see Donna Axton around here in the village, I shall buy her the adult beverage of her choice and maybe a Ginger Man cookie to say thanks for a most memorable evening of Vivaldi.
By the way, Miss Donna threw in Joy to the World, White Christmas and Silent Night at no extra charge. If she isn’t one of them Vivaldi angels from Bethlehem herself, well, I don’t know my Vivaldi, and I think I do…
In closing, instead of leaving the last word to Mark Twain as I am wont to do, I shall leave the last word to Vivaldi:
“Move on! Move on! Little donkey move on!”
Audio: https://open.spotify.com/show/7Fhv4PrH1UuwlhbnTT23zO
