Respighi's Pines of Rome
The Pines of The Apian Way, The Pines of The Villa Borghese, Pines Near A Catacomb, The Pines of the Janiculum
Dec 7, 2006
In 1924 Ottorino Respighi presented the second of his patriotic symphonic poems titled The Pines Of Rome (Pini di Roma). A sequel of sorts to The Fountains Of Rome (Fontane di Roma, 1917) The Pines of Rome is a programmatic visual feast for the ears. A work in four movements, each movement visualizes a different scene from the city of Rome, Italy.
The first movement, The Pines of the Villa Borghese (i pini di Villa Borghese) begins fast and frenetic with soaring brass and piano setting the scene of children playing beneath the pine trees of the Borghese gardens. This brief opening statement pushes quickly into the the second movement, Pines Near A Catacomb (pini presso una catocomba), which opens in stark contrast to the opening by depicting the pines of the Roman catacombs of Campagna. In this movement a low drone by the low strings gives way to a stunning and eerie melodic statement by a solo trumpet, distant as though entombed within the catacombs themselves. This melancholy trumpet solo plants the seed for one of the first high points of the composition as the strains of his melody blend with an exuberant crescendo from the viols to create a gripping and highly aesthetic experience.
The third movement of Respighi's Pines of Rome, The Pines of the Janiculum (I pini del Gianicolo), presents a solo clarinet describing in song a nighttime view of the hill of Janiculum. She plays a gentle, romantic melody atop a bed of hushed strings. The cellos take up this clarinet melody briefly then pass it on to other sections of the orchestra before the movement concludes with the recorded sound of a nightingale helping us to gently segue into the final movement, The Pines of the Apian Way.
The Pines of the Apian Way (I pini della Via Appia) are some of the most simple, natural, yet incredibly breathtaking sights to behold in Rome. These giant pine trees are groomed to remove their lower branches, and soar what seems like miles into the sky. In The Pines of Rome Respighi paints this image in a manner and method that can only be described as the most intense and most physically moving finales of all of his compositions. A slow pulsating rhythm opens the fourth movement, played on a muffled piano, as one by one other instruments enter to join in the procession. A solo English horn enters to present the theme of the movement, a somber yet lilting thought that is picked up by the horns and eventually the entire brass section. The procession grows louder and stronger as these soldiers approach, marching down one of the most famous avenues in all of the ancient world. As the procession arrives the brass, bass drums, and timpani begin to pound at your senses, not overwhelming them, but driving your heart into a blissful frenzy. The final stanzas of Respighi's Pines of Rome conclude with an incredible feast of lush, powerful chords and crystal clear imagery, leaving you wanting to find a way to hop the next plane to Italy to see it all for yourself.
