(Editor's Note: This piece was also written for the school paper, so it might seem a bit hasty — I will strive to better concentrate in future reviews, especially on CDs, to offer some purchasing advice). Read and comment. And if it seems long, forgive me—is it like Bruckner, perhaps? Too verbose at times! See you soon!

On Saturday, October 14, the Teatro Coccia in Novara hosted a concert organized by the Conservatorio Guido Cantelli of our city. A concert in memoriam of Giulio Cesare Sonzogno, a famous classical music publisher, who passed away in Milan in January 1976; a descendant of well-known Milanese publishers. As a child, he played with the children of Arturo Toscanini, and as an adult, he collaborated with the Maestro and several prominent figures in the musical field at the time. He developed a precocious interest in composition, which led him to create various chamber and orchestral works. Among numerous lyrics ("La luna e l'usignolo" and "La rose rouge", the most famous, included in soprano Maria Farneti's 1932 program) are two prominent compositions for orchestra: "Quadri rustici" which won the "Musica Radiogenica" prize in Venice in '32, and the "Tango" for large orchestra, which achieved great success, performed not only by Toscanini and Leopold Stokowski but also by Richard Strauss. This was followed by several operas commissioned by various Italian theaters ("Regina Uliva", "I Passeggeri", "Boule de suif", "Il denaro del signor Arne", "Mirra"). At the concert, the two compositions for orchestra, "Quadri Rustici" and the "Tango", were presented to the public. "Quadri Rustici", composed of two symphonic scenes for a full orchestra, is an easy-to-listen composition, very pleasant and light. Although it conveys a decidedly relaxed and pleasant atmosphere (though not without more serious moments), it is by no means a trivial composition, a fact proven by its selection from among 122 compositions at the Venice music festival, where it emerged victorious, surpassing works by still-famous composers like Nino Rota and Luigi Dallapiccola.

But the truly indicative piece is the beautiful "Tango" for large orchestra: it's truly a substantial, well-constructed, and characteristic composition; the orchestration is not disappointing for a large symphony orchestra, typical of the twentieth century, enriched not only by a well-provided percussion section but also by an obligatory organ and a beautiful celesta. Full of rhythm and color, especially in the passages intended for the winds, the fortissimos of the gong, captivating and mysterious, it builds up to the final fortissimo intended for the entire orchestra that closes this small masterpiece of Italian 1900s music in style and beauty. The confident language doesn’t seem influenced by other languages, maintaining a good melody interspersed and enriched by numerous instruments. It’s a real shame that this composition is little known today.

Now to the true rarities: I was greatly surprised when I read the program and found a composition on the list that I honestly never hoped existed: "Tema e Variazioni per Orchestra". A simple, straightforward title. But the composer is truly a story in himself: Guido Cantelli! Now, I sincerely knew this important musical figure, "our" conductor, for his tragically brief fame as a conductor before, but I would never have sworn he had composed. "Tema e Variazioni per Orchestra" was the piece with which Cantelli passed his composition exam at conservatory: a youthful work, evidently influenced in many sincerely lyrical parts by authors like Brahms, particular and enjoyable in some variations, with a great preference in the livelier and more playful parts for the winds, this composition is pleasant and light, typically youthful, without excessive depth. Though the orchestra is quite well provided for, there’s no percussion section except for the timpani and a nice clash of cymbals that close the composition.

Touching is the composition by another truly little-known Italian composer of the 1900s, Aldo Finzi. The "Carlo Coccia" Symphony Orchestra (conducted by Ma proposed Finzi’s last work for orchestra, his last symphonic poem, which, like the others, is strongly indebted to a musical language akin to Richard Strauss, but markedly simplified and less demanding, "Like at his last . . . every artist". An expansive lyric work, emotional and introspective, with more lively moments marked by a sudden awakening of the background percussion, with chivalrous semblances and melodic jokes and waltz tempos, it manages to be very balanced, and despite maintaining a calm and disconsolate tone at many points from start to finish, thanks to the effective crescendos scattered at several points throughout the piece, this symphonic poem does not bore, but captivates, involving the listener in the colorful and disconsolate melodies, distinctly romantic. It is a highly expansive composition, very pleasant, with a lovely, relaxing finale.

The evening closed with a skillful free transcription for orchestra of the Adagio and Fugue for organ by J. S. Bach. On October 22 last, the Verdi Orchestra of Milan, which I have already had the pleasure of commenting on in the previous issue, presented to a large audience three compositions by three different authors, all of the melodic 1900s, featuring once again Shostakovich, and his "First Concerto for Cello and Orchestra", Mikhail Glinka and the orchestral piece "Night in Madrid", and the grand suite for large orchestra "The Planets" by Gustav Holst. On the podium was Maestro Josep Caballé Domenech.

Mikhail Glinka left me puzzled: sincerely, while particular and enjoyable, I cannot deny it, the "Night in Madrid" did not impress me much; personal preferences, I suppose, for a composition, moreover, influenced by the French and Spanish music of the 1900s, with the strong percussive themes of tambourines, a good rhythm and numerous "dance" tempos that give it a good color nonetheless. The performance of Shostakovich’s cello concerto was much applauded. Right from the start, the powerful Allegretto themes of the most famous Russian composer of the 1900s, richly colored, in this composition more than ever, Shostakovich reworks folkloric themes offering the audience a composition, especially in the first movement, laden with dynamism and rhythm, an intensely engaged orchestral participation that slightly overshadows the virtuosity of the solo cello. A lively and relentless first movement, at certain points (especially when the timpani strike with great force, as at the end), with an almost apocalyptic tone, contracted, complex. A composition that alternates festive moments with deep lyrical and contemplative interludes. A very "symphonic" composition for the continuous participation of the orchestra, almost never interrupted except ten minutes from the end. A finale "Allegro ma non troppo" sees a brutal participation of the orchestra and especially the timpani with the classic treatment that Shostakovich is known for, as he had already done with the finale of the VI Symphony. A festively toned yet once again highly challenging and intense ending, pressing, with an effective reprise of the first movement theme, varied, with extremely urgent moves also thanks to the brief and rapid interventions by the various instruments in the orchestra, feverish.

A brief pause: and during the intermission, the stage fills with many other instruments. Celesta, harmonium, two harps, a larger string section in general, and so also of winds but especially the brass, reinforcement timpani, bells, large gong, xylophone. They are "The Planets" by Gustav Holst (), one of the most evocative and famous musical suites for a large orchestra from the 1900s. Some flaws in execution, but certainly, when listening live, not very important; one cannot remain indifferent to such a well-nourished and well-disposed orchestral setup. Besides, you can feel it on the skin: at the orchestra's fortissimos, the seats were trembling! It’s one of my absolute favorite compositions, and I’m certainly sorry to have to sum it up in a few lines due to space reasons! The suite is divided into seven movements. The first, "Mars, the Bringer of War," is an upbeat, pressing, martial, and cruel movement, opening in pianissimo, and gradually, in a grand crescendo, most of the orchestra’s instruments join in, until reaching full, rich fortissimos; a peculiarity of this movement is the reinforced use of brass, timpani, and the gong, which envelops all the imposing sounds with a broad sound. A cruel, violent movement, very reminiscent of a piece of any action-packed science fiction film soundtrack. The second movement is the exact opposite: "Venus, the Bringer of Peace." Slowly paced with sentiment, serene, and extremely peaceful; rare percussion interventions, placing the bells at the forefront; the celesta interjects with its typically enchanting and peculiar sound. A rapid and tender scherzo can be found in the third movement, featuring "Mercury, the Winged Messenger", up to the beautiful "Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity", a joyful movement, pervaded by a strong sense of rhythm, with masterful orchestration, a solemn and noble central largo tempo, of strong English spirit.

Here comes "Saturn, the Bringer of Old Age", an exceptional Adagio movement, with continuous pianissimo-fortissimo alternations, and an ending with bells and harp interludes enriching the extensive and moving theme. Then emerges with strength the penultimate movement, "Uranus, the Magician," with strong sounds entrusted to the timpani, xylophone, and cymbals. Just before the finale, a fortissimo for the entire orchestra, enhanced by the organ, celebrated for its grandiose majesty; a dramatic movement on par with the first, but more playful, almost a musical rival (but with a more tense and serious atmosphere) to Dukas' famous "The Sorcerer’s Apprentice". The women’s choir in the last movement "Neptune, the Mystic," an offstage choir, from which the light voices (a deliberately faintly audible choir, creating a fantastic atmosphere; a choir of color, without text or anything, only long notes for filling) - the choir then, which indeed creates a very successful mysterious and timeless atmosphere, a monument to the profound silence of space; and before the choir’s involvement, a relatively long speech from the orchestra that builds anticipation and ambiguity, a very successful mysterious atmosphere. My favorite movement? Possibly, from Jupiter onwards!

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