Four Seasons of Buenos Aires

With the rising tide of interest in tango, the name of Astor Piazzolla (1921-92) spread across the musical world like a storm. Born in Argentina to an Italian immigrant family, Piazzolla actually grew up in New York City. He learned to play the bandonéon (a concertina, similar to an accordion) on the streets and progressed rapidly enough to catch the attention of a prominent bandleader, who invited 13-year-old Astor to go on tour. His father refused—ironically and tragically the smartest decision he ever made, for the entire band died in a plane crash while on tour. Astor would go on the become one of the most renowned bandonéon players of all time, frequently playing his own compositions in concert and writing tango-inspired music that forever changed the genre. Piazzolla began formal, “classical” composition lessons, but with sage advice from Nadia Boulanger, Piazzolla accepted tango as his true voice. He combined tango with jazz and classical idioms to elevate the rather seedy world of tango to a place among high art. By the time he died in 1992, he had released a hundred albums, composed for over fifty films, and received the kinds of accolades that he could hardly have dreamed of all those years earlier.
The collection titled Four Seasons of Buenos Aires was composed in the 1960’s, though Piazzolla had made Argentina’s capital his permanent home as early as 1938. “Winter” opens with poignant low strings, though it quickly moves to a flashy piano cadenza. The piano gets a larger role to play in this movement, yielding a largely percussive quality, and there are both more sections and more obvious contrasts than “Spring.” But for all the drama, the movement ends on a note of quiet familiarity. Piazzolla builds the final section on the age-old harmonic sequence that Pachelbel immortalized in his Canon in D. Piazzolla structures “Spring” as a traditional ABA form. The A material is vigorous and incisive, its syncopations and flamboyant gestures translating into a passionate intensity. More subtly, the main theme is almost classical in its arch-like contour (rising for two measures, then falling for two). Bringing these impulses together is the regular, predictable phrase rhythm of the tango. In the dolorous B section, both violin and cello take turns as soloist before imperceptibly coming back into lockstep for the return of section A.

(c) Jason Stell