Gustav Holst ‘The Planets’: A Series of Mood Pictures

Brace yourselves everyone we’re going on a long musical trip around outer space, as this blog is on the ever-popular orchestral suite The Planets by Gustav Holst (1874-1934). A little bit of background before we get to the music itself – The Planets is a seven-movement orchestral suite, which sees each movement being named after a planet in the solar system and also its astrological character (defined by Holst himself). The suite was written between 1914 and 1916, with it still, even after 100 years, being one of the most recorded and well-loved orchestral works (especially within Holst repertoire). This reception is rather interesting as Holst himself never deemed the work to work, nor did he think its popularity was quite justified. Saying this though he was said to have a soft spot for his favourite movement, Saturn.

The concept of the work is based not on the Roman deities that they may relate to, but the influence of the planets on the psyche, which consequently makes this work astrological, not astronomical (hence why Earth is not included). Holst became interested in astrology through his friend (and later librettist for his opera The Wandering Scholar) Clifford Bax. As an astrologer, Bax introduced the concepts and writings about astrology to Holst, which allowed him to rediscover theosophy and philosophy. With these new lines of interest, Holst started to learn how each planet bears a different characteristic in terms of astrology, and what this means within the bigger picture. Sadly though, with the popularity this work brought, Holst was dampened by it, and swore to never write anything like it again. From that point onwards he didn’t believe in astrology (apart from the odd horoscope reading) which is ironic considering how much joy this piece had brought to others.

I. Mars – The Bringer of War

Mars is the first movement of the suite and it is one mighty strong piece of music! The music is actually relatively simple, but the way that Holst manipulates, orchestrates and colours the theme make this movement incredibly exciting. Perhaps the best example of this is actually at the beginning of the piece, where we hear the repeating ostinato rhythm from the strings – which drives and dominates this whole movement. The strings play col legno which means that the players play with the wood of their bow, not the hair. This creates a percussive sound, which is very exciting and keeps with the theme of this movement representing war. It’s techniques like these that make this music sound space-age and very modern for its time. So while the strings play this driving ostinato theme, the winds and brass play an equal-balanced motif. They play a fifth interval, then drop a semitone, which is repeated throughout this section. You may be wondering why this movement always feels a little on edge, well it may be due to the time signature that this movement is in. Naturally as humans we feel comfortable with 4/4 or common time, however, this movement is in 5/4 which keeps us leaning forward wondering where the next section will lead us.

As Holst has not used lots of different themes, more he has stretched and varied a small selection, the excitement from this piece comes from short bursts of sound, which are usually initiated by the brass. These bursts also give an insight into the military feel as you can often hear fanfares from the brass section. This movement was written in 1914, which does make you wonder whether this movement is a somewhat musical premonition of the war that was soon about to break out (WW1). Perhaps not, but it does however encapsulate the tormenting and thunderous feelings of war and the devastating consequences.  Throughout this whole movement the constant always comes back to the first ostinato that was heard, this creates some stability (albeit quite terrifying stability!). The frantic scramble at the end of the movement leads up to the massive stabs at the end, which bring the whole orchestra together to create an exciting, yet terrifying end to this movement.

II. Venus – The Bringer of Peace

The second movement, Venus, provides us with an incredible contrast to the previous movement. Not only is this movement calm and tranquil, but if offers a rest and an answer against the war. The turmoil of the previous movement is seamlessly soothed away by the dulce sounds of this movement, which is just so peaceful and wonderful in every way. The score is incredibly bare, which makes it sound like a piece of chamber music, which is significant as Holst would have had about 100 musicians to play with. It seems the approach with this movement is not how much you do, it’s actually what you don’t do as a result of this. Simplicity is bliss throughout this movement, with the main melodic cell being intertwined in the horn and oboe rising step movement, which is contradicted by the flutes downward step movement. This tri-tonal invocation is incredibly calm and it emphasises the oscillating wind and harp chords, which run throughout most of the piece.

It’s been quoted that Holst said this about, Venus – “The whole of this movement is pervaded by the serenity of a wold which nothing seems able to disturb. The mood is unmistakably mystical and the hero may indeed imagine himself contemplating the twinkling stars on a still night.” So what makes the twinkling sound within this movement? It’s an amalgamation of the harps, glockenspiel and celeste playing oscillating chords throughout the movement, which give it the hypnotic and mystical sound. Holst is very economic in the way he uses instruments within this movement, and by not utilising all the players he had at his disposal creates an incredibly delicate sound.  The colouring of sounds seems to be right at the heart of Holst’s orchestration as he has the horns and flutes colour the harp chords at points, and the solo violin is coloured and blended with the lower strings to create a rich sound.

Just think of this movement as a gracefully spinning planet, and then you can enjoy the true wonders of this serene movement.

III. Mercury – The Winged Messenger

After the wonderfully calm movement, we bounce straight into the third movement, Mercury – The Winged Messenger, which takes us on an exciting journey, though it is only brief, with this movement being the shortest of the seven. It seems the inspiration for this movement is taken from Roman mythology, with the Roman God, Mercury wearing wings on his shoes so he can move around quickly and get messages to people in good time. Due to this, the music is very fast-paced with it being much more complex musically than the last two movements. To keep our ears interested, Holst dashes quickly between tonalities, and never quite settles down into one tonality. This makes the score interesting to read as some instruments will be scored in flats, others in sharps, and others with no key at all. Holst bounces through keys creates a fresh and exciting sound, which contrasts again to the previous movement.

Holst also utilises one of his trademark compositional techniques – cross rhythms and complex rhythmic cells. Firstly, he is in 6/8 throughout the first half of this movement, although his grouping of notes gives different time signature feelings. For instance, he uses 6/8 bouncing quavers in the winds, semiquavers (grouped in fours) in the strings and then crotchets within the ensemble which give a 3/4 feel. It’s again playing with our ears and creating an innovative and exciting sound using altered rhythms and groupings. There are points where the time signature is less obvious and that is part of the whole excitement of the movement! The last melodic cell is built up throughout different instruments (its repeated 12 times to be precise!) and here Holst uses cross-rhythms which consist of 6/8-3/4-2/4 changes in this theme. I have always interpreted this build up section to be like a message between the planets, with the different instruments representing the different characteristics of the planets. All of these different quirks creates this exciting, fast-paced movement which is slotted in near the middle of the suite (which correlates with it being written last in 1916).

IV. Jupiter – The Bringer of Jollity

The fourth movement of the suite, Jupiter is perhaps the most famous of them all, especially the main theme that is heard in the middle of the movement, and we shall discuss that in good time, but first we cannot disregard the rest of this wonderful movement. The movement starts with covert excitement with a fast three-note figure played by the violins, which has been said to represent the rotation of Jupiter (as it has the fastest rotation of all the planets). Soon to enter are the horns, lower strings and both sets of timpani with a syncopated theme which builds into the fabric of this first theme (of a mighty six for this movement!). This quirky theme is soon left behind as the second theme enters, which is a basic fanfare theme that is varied throughout this shorter section. The third theme is marked pesante which means heavy or peasant like. This theme stems into theme four also, with variants being played. This heavier section is like it’s trying to communicate with everyone possible, not just the top or bottom of social scales, but everybody in-between too. Theme five is an amalgamation of the pesante theme with the fanfare theme, which gradually gets a little faster before we arrive at theme six, the biggie, the one we’ve all been waiting for.

But have we been waiting for it? One of the most striking aspects about this movement, for me, is the lack of musical transitions and Holst’s quite frequent use of time changes just when you may be feeling comfortable with a theme. The hymn theme (as it shall now be referred to as) is also the basis for the hymn tune “I vow to thee my country” and is perhaps one of gems of Twentieth-Century orchestral music. The theme, however, comes out of absolutely nowhere and just begins, within the loose key of Eb major. To add to this, the whole movement is ambiguous in terms of tonality, with a lot of it being modal as there seems to be a void where typical harmonic progressions would be found, this includes parts of this hymn theme section. The theme alone in this section melodically rich, appealing and compelling, with this section being very separated from the rest of the movement in mood, timbre and also texture. The theme is undoubtedly celebratory, taking us on a whirlwind of emotions which is full of climatic passion, zeal and triumphant feelings. What a smashing piece of music!

The end of the movement essentially is a recap of earlier themes and bringing them together for the climatic end. I do believe that this movement provides a representation for the prime of life, making it at the centre of musical expression and impressive melodies which create a feel-good wave of sound for the listener. The movement paints a wonderful landscape of sound which, even with the lack of musical transitions, is still exciting and everything is just as it should be. The contrasting timbres is a testament to how good Holst is at both composing and orchestrating as this movement is bursting to the seams with incredibly memorable themes.

V. Saturn – The Bringer of Old Age

If you’re still with me at this point – thank you for reading, I do hope you’re enjoying this blog (I’m having a great time writing it!). Anyway, on with the show! The opening bars of Saturn I interpret as a ticking clock. With the harmonic ostinato (someone do correct me if I am mistaken – the harmonic intervals being of two half-diminished seventh chords – Bdim7 and Adim7) and the oscillating chord changes between the flutes and harps creates a dark image for the listener. Underneath this, the double basses play a slow and expansive theme which grows into fruition slightly later in the movement. For me, and for others it seems, this gradual build up paints a picture of time passing by, which directly relates to the characteristic of the planet – The Bringer of Old Age. In the more climatic section of this movement it becomes an incredibly powerful piece of music that feels rather personal. I believe the reason it feels more personal is down to the fact that Holst has integrated his first human element to this suite – old age. This is a concept we can all relate to and the idea of growing old is seen differently by everybody, therefore when the solemnn procession enters it affects people in different ways as people will see it subjectively.

To contrast the previous, quite solemn feel to the movement, there is an outburst within the orchestra, which could mean a plethora of different things. It could perhaps represent church bells at a funeral (as tubular bells are used extensively here) or perhaps its alarm bells that death is approaching (that’s more how I see it). Or even it could musically represent the breakout of WW1 (as Holst was writing this movement in 1915). Whatever path you may take it does not take away from the fact that the music has gone into complete turmoil for a section of this piece. However dark the underlying topic may be here, the music creates a stunning effect that is mesmerizing to hear. The end of the work comes to a much more delicate close, with the upper strings playing in stunningly high octaves, which always gives me the goosebumps! I am a massive fan of this movement, and so was Holst and I believe that may be due to the integration of the human element within the characteristic of this work. Let yourself be immersed in this movement, its true beauty should be respected.

VI. Uranus – The Magician

The sixth movement of the suite is dedicated to the planet Uranus – The Magician. A fanfare from the trumpets, trombones and timpani announce the arrival of this movement in style as this simple melodic cell is used often throughout the movement. Soon heard is a very interesting dotted-rhythm motif from the whole bassoon section, with the contrabassoon being at the forefront here. The bombastic, heavy march theme is heard a fair bit throughout this movement and is often interrupted by the first four-note fanfare theme. This movement in general is quite unconventional, which has been said to represent the idea that Uranus as a planet moves on its own side axis, which in itself is different. Musically though the piece is in strange time signatures such as 6/4 and 9/4. To highlight these time changes, Holst utilises scales and scalic movement to create varying effects. So for instance he uses contrary motion scales between the upper winds and the tuned percussion to create a different kind of scalic sound. Holst also very cleverly uses a cross-rhythmic hemiola (I told you he liked cross-rhythms!) and a hemiola is where 2 different time signatures at once, so at one point he has part of the orchestra in 4/4 and the rest in 6/4 – very clever stuff!

Along with this rhythmic ambiguity, there is no set key to the piece, you can make a guess of where the tonality may be, but it is quite tricky. I’ve worked out that the first section is in E minor tonality, but after that point is goes between C minor, E major and Db minor a lot. The lolloping tune is quite robust and all of these compositional processes play a part in creating this scherzo-like movement. There is an extensive use of percussion and other less-used instruments such as contrabassoon, euphonium and tuned percussion. This movement is light and all in jest, in comparison to the last movement, which again plays to its magician characteristic. Uranus is perhaps my least favourite, but all the same it’s still a great piece of music and I feel like it does fit well into the mixture of movement Holst has written. Again, the contrast of moods and texture within the movement really do highlight how wonderful a composer and orchestrator Holst really is.

VII. Neptune – The Mystic

So here we are, movement seven – congratulations if you have made it this far and I hope you feel its been worth the read! Neptune – The Mystic is one of the most jaw-dropping movements of orchestral music due to its sheer lack of any convention, yet it feels safe to the ears. This stunning movement, similarly to Mars, uses 5/4 time signature, although the groupings are different from that in Mars, with this movement being grouped 3-2 as opposed to either 2-3 or 5. This is the only movement of the whole suite not to use themes or any real melody, only fragments of musical cells that you can loosely call melodies. This makes the piece incredibly enchanting, enthralling and completely other-worldly. This last movement is also bitonal, and is the only one of the whole suite that is. Upon seeing the score there are some areas where there are two chords appearing simultaneously, yet they have no diatonic relationship whatsoever. This is heightened by the harp and celeste parts, which push arpeggios and oscillating chords throughout.

The whole movement, even now in 2016, sounds so futuristic and it becomes very clear that modern-day hollywood film composers must have taken an inspiration from Holst and this kind of writing, as you can imagine this movement as the soundtrack of a sci-fi that you like. The music creates a sound world that is mystical and very well-balanced in terms of orchestration. Its small details like the bass flute bringing a darker timbre underneath the concert flutes, and the celeste bringing a beautiful dulce tone alongside the harp. The most unconventional part of this movement, however, is Holst’s use of a female choir in the latter half of the movement. The ladies choir bring a human quality to the movement, again it seems Holst is trying to connect with us with the use of the human voice. Neptune is in the far reaches of the solar system and the end of this movement is a gradual fade out, with the last thing the audience should hear is the very far away ladies choir (who have started to walk away to create the fade out effect). The idea of not using a stable ending to the end of a suite, or any orchestral piece, was a newer technique and was embraced by Twentieth-Century composers for years to come. This movement is incredibly exquisite and it ends the suite so delicately and I, as I’m sure you all are, full of questions about why it has ended the way it has.

In short, this movement reveals Holst as the gutsy risk-taker that he was. He didn’t submit to the conventional rousing finale (he used Mars at the beginning and Jupiter in the middle) but instead, he used the exact opposite. By bringing together all the movements with this delicately thought-out movement, I feel that it ends in the best way possible – wanting to know more.

The Planets is an absolutely remarkable suite of orchestral music, that definitely has some of my favourite music in. With Mars bringing masculinity and forcefulness to the forefront, Holst was able to paint a really vivid picture of war and the consequences of war. Venus on the other hand, expresses femininity, peace and gentleness and it creates a quite and peaceful place for the listener. Mercury brings liveliness, gaiety and youthfulness into the mixture and its vivacious nature makes it a fast-paced and exciting movement. Jupiter adds majesty, benevolence and triumphant zeal to the concoction, with its many themes adding a true sense of adventure. This is soon followed by Saturn, which brings melancholy, pride and old age and this brings a human quality like no other. Uranus expresses magical forces, animation and playfulness to the mix and it reminds me a lot of Dukas’ L’ Apprenti Sorcier (The Sorcerer’s Apprentice). Finally, Neptune finally brings mystery, the paranormal and the unknown to the final concoction. Bravo Gustav Holst, bravo!

Thank you to anybody who has read to the end of this very long blog, it’s taken a lot of preparation and research so I do hope you have enjoyed the ride.So, what’s your favourite movement? I’d love to know!

This blog is dedicated to anybody who loves The Planets and is interested in knowing more!

Recommended Recordings –

Royal Scottish National Orchestra

Royal Philharmonic Orchestra – André Previn –










































Claude Debussy ‘Prélude à l’Après-midi d’un faune’: Contained in a Dream

Claude Debussy – what a wonderful composer! An artist of true musical beauty and complexity. Debussy, perhaps is most well-known for his piano works, so instead I am writing this blog on one of his orchestral works so you can experience a different side to his compositional offerings. Prélude à l’Après-midi d’un faune is a symphonic poem that was premiered in Paris 1894, which was conducted by Swiss conductor Gustave Doret. Translated, the title reads “Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun” and it was based on Stéphane Mallarmé’s poem l’Après-midi d’un faune. This work also provided a basis for his later ballet Afternoon of a Faun which was first performed in 1912. It was also considered a turning point for art music as a genre at the time as it provided scoring that bordered on becoming modern music, as well as the music barely adhering to any sense of tonality or harmonic functions.

The original poem is fundamentally like a free-illustration of a number of scenes where the dreams of a forest faun interacting with nymphs and sharing memories is told. Nature is at the heart of this work and you can certainly hear that in the music within Prélude à l’Après-midi d’un faune. The piece creates a musical sound world that completely absorbs you when you listen to it.

The piece starts with a solo flute playing a whole tone descending sequence, which ends up a tritone below the original pitch. This passage has become a staple for flute players within orchestral repertoire. The purpose of this work, essentially, is to evoke thoughts and imagery from Mallarmé’s poem, and Debussy does this by manipulating orchestration and distancing the music from anything functional, thus making it much more accessible for people to have their own creative thoughts on the music. I won’t be analysing this piece as much as others, as I do feel its up to the listener to interpret as they wish, and sometimes over-analysing something takes the beauty out of it. However, an interesting part of this piece is the idea of it nearly being in complete free-form, so without any real sense of metre or time. Now upon listening this may be the case, however, once one brings a score into the mix you realise it is an amalgamation of highly complex musical themes carefully intertwined together to create this very balanced feel and atmosphere within the work.

The main theme (heard from the solo flute at the beginning), is developed at length throughout the piece, with different instruments taking the theme and creating their own variation. The work is littered with chromatic harmony changes, whole tone runs (which make it sound very other-worldly!) and metre changes (chiefly between the 9/8, 12/8 and 6/8). The voicing of the instruments is incredibly reflective of nature and Debussy’s lack of a tonal centre makes the work innovative and so intriguing to listen to. The main melodies are chiefly led by the woodwinds and horns, with the harps and strings playing accompaniment cells of music to support the sound world being created. This does change at some points in the piece, especially within the more climactic sections of the work. The dream-like atmosphere that is created really highlights Debussy’s highly intelligent way of stretching traditional key systems to their limits, without quite distinguishing them.

Prélude à l’Après-midi d’un faune is a prime example of Impressionism and the turn-of-the-century music climate in France. With its advanced sound world and new conception of music as an art genre, this piece uses tonal colour, timbre blending and orchestration to communicate the musical syntax of the piece (even if it is rather hazy!). Debussy is a composer to be admired no end, as his work is so fundamental to that of music eras soon to come (for instance minimalism and impressionism). I do hope you enjoy this piece of music, let it take you away to that special dream world you have!

This Debussy blog is dedicated to my close friend Ben Evans, who I know is a massive lover of Debussy and his music. I hope this blog reaches you in good stead and you enjoy another instalment of Debussy!

Recommended recordings –

L’Orchestre symphonique de Montréal – Charles Édouard Dutoit –

Frederick Delius ‘The Walk to the Paradise Garden’: More than just a Scene Change

Frederick Delius (1862-1934), was an English composer who, in my opinion, is not as highly rated as he should be! He’s composed pieces such as The Mass of Life and the absolutely wonderful In a Summer Garden (which I will write a blog on at some point!). I’ve chosen to look into one of his most impressive orchestral works, The Walk to the Paradise Garden which he uses as an extended scene change in his 1910 opera, A Village Romeo and Juliet. Many say that Delius reached his artistic maturity with this work, even though he was around the age of 45 at the time, which is fairly late to reach artistic fruition. I believe this is somewhat enhanced by some of the main themes of the opera, which include spirituality, nature and acceptance of life.

Delius ended up writing his own libretto for this opera, after unsatisfactory attempts were made by other people. The source of this text was taken from Gottfried Keller’s novella Romeo and Juliet auf dem Dorfe (1876). The story essentially follows the love story of two young peasants, who are stuck between a feud between their families and at the end of the story they resolve to commit suicide together, on a hay barge after singing the last duet (Love-Death) in the same kind of vein as in Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde (sounds familiar, right?). So with this story in mind, Delius splits his libretto into six main scenes, which each explore a different spiritual state. The main themes that run through all of the scenes relate back to the juxtapositions of nature and how this affects human suffering. Therefore, the last scene represents the one moment of happiness the couple find within nature (which does not make them suffer in any way) and this is in the paradise garden.

The Walk to Paradise Garden wasn’t actually a part of Delius’ initial set up of the opera and it was only added in before the Berlin premiere in 1906 (with the first every premiere being in 1901). The piece is between scenes 5 and 6 and is essentially an extended scene change, however, it has become much more than that as it is now known as one of Delius’ most impressive orchestral works. The piece brings together themes from the previous 5 scenes and it creates an absolutely wonderful demonstration of thematic development and fruition.

The piece starts with a horn and bassoon, who introduce a lovely, warm theme which is soon passed around to the oboe and English horn throughout this work. I really enjoy the laid-back feeling of this theme and how relaxing it is. This theme is manipulated and developed throughout the orchestra and it does seem that the winds take a more prominent place within some of these sections. The opera’s ‘love theme’ is emphasised a lot within the more climactic sections of the work, especially after the first climatic section involving upper strings and winds. A colour B Major interlude is heard and this represents the couple finding that swift moment of peace within nature. Its an incredibly moving piece of music which radiates such wonderful colour in coherence with nature and finding oneself through spiritual means.

So from the initial theme at the beginning, you can hear the winds and brass taking a more solo approach to the thematic development. The timbre between the lower strings and the winds blends so well and creates such a calming atmosphere. An extended oboe solo is heard, which again is this first theme. The clarinet and bassoon then take this over, with a rich string accompaniment. From this point the upper strings take a more prominent place and start becoming more involved with the thematic development. The timpani roll encourages and teases the strings into a beautiful crescendo of sound, which culminates in a much thicker orchestration and higher registers being played by the flute and oboes. The climatic section is just heart-wrenching and the upper register played by the strings is just so good! The texture thins slightly after this point and the oboe and flute take the theme over once more. A call and response technique is used between the strings and upper winds, which grounds this developed theme more into the fabric of the piece. I really like the way Delius goes between the different woodwind instruments to create different timbres with the same/similar theme, it very much creates a soothing, complex but still interesting piece of music.

The flute then brings us into the next section, with the woodwinds and horns being at the forefront and bringing the tempo and feeling down to a lower level. A beautiful flute solo is heard, which is shadowed by the violin and oboe. As far as I am aware this section is a real highlight between the two points that the couple are walking between (the fairground and a mountain inn). Following this you can hear another climatic section fast approaching, with the upper strings leading this section. The trumpets enter, which of course makes it all the more brilliant (not bias at all!). This section is so luscious and flowing that you cannot dislike it! Again the climax is brought back down and a wonderful harp progression, twinned with a calm (ha!) trumpet is heard and it makes the atmosphere all the more sweet and calming.

The music thus starts dying away very slowly, with the tempo ceasing somewhat and the themes being repeated as a kind of farewell from the woodwinds. The piece ends very softly and trails off into silence, which represents the couple returning to their lives, which eventually ends with their union in death.

This is an absolutely wonderful piece of music and is well worth a listen. Even if you don’t listen to it with the story in mind, it is still a wonderfully calm piece of music, which is probably why it has been recorded separately from the opera many times. If you like this I am sure you’ll really enjoy Delius’ music as his music is so pure and so easy to listen to.

Recommended Recordings:

Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra -Richard Hilcox

George Frideric Handel ‘Ombra mai fù’: The Largo of Love

The inspiration for this blog came in an unexpected way this afternoon as I was sitting in the music library scrolling through some videos that were named “The Most Romantic Music Ever Written” and within this lovely collection of music I came across ‘Ombra mai fu’ from Handel’s Serse. I thought it was one of the loveliest songs I have ever heard, and while I am not a massive fan of Handel’s music, I found this particular work very striking and incredibly beautiful. Serse is an opera seria by George Frideric Handel which was first performed in London in 1738, the opera wasn’t all that popular, however the opening number ‘Ombra mai fu’ has become one of Handel’s most recognisable melodies.

‘Ombra mai fu’ is the opening aria which is sung by Xerxes I of Persia who is the main character of this opera. The voice type for this character is a countertenor, which means that the range of the voice overlaps with that of a woman’s. Preceding the voice is a nine-bar instrumental from the chamber string ensemble, which sets the slow, melancholy atmosphere for this song. The title of the song translated is “Never was a shade” and within the context of the opera, Xerxes is singing about the admiration and love he has for the shade of the plane tree (see lyrics below).

Ombra mai fu                                                                  Never was a shade

di vegetabile                                                                    of any plant,

cara ed amabile,                                                              dearer and more lovely,

soave piú.                                                                          or more sweet.


Frondi renere e belle                                      Tender and beautiful fronds

dei mio plantano amato                                 of my beloved plane tree

per voi reisplenda il fato.                                let Fate smile upon you.

Tuoni, lampi, e procelle                                   May thunder, lightning, and storms

non v’oltraggiano mai la cara pace,              never disturb your dear peace,

né giunga a profanarvi austro rapace.         nor may you by blowing winds be profaned.


Ombra mai fu                                                                     Never was a shade

di vegetabile                                                                        of any plant,

cara ed amabile,                                                                 dearer and more lovely,

soave piú.                                                                             or more sweet.

The pure sound of a countertenor singing this song is such a delight to hear and you’ll get swept away in this lovely short aria. The melody that Handel uses has become one of his most famous, with it being recovered years after the opera was unsuccessful.  The range in this song is so heart-wrenching, with climatic moments arising on the words ‘sweet’ and ‘lovely.’ This piece is in F major and stays in a steady 3/4 time throughout, which adds to the consistent feel of the music. The accompaniment is very delicate and it sits comfortably under the vocalist, which adds to the beauty of this piece. I can’t recommend this piece enough, it’s absolutely stunning and such a joy to listen to, it’s only 3 minutes long!

This blog is for my mum, because I know she really likes Handel, and she may not have heard this wonderful piece yet, so I hope you enjoy this one! Thank you for being the best all the time!

Recommended recordings –

Andreas Scholl (My favourite) –

Phillippe Jaroussky –

Cécilla Bartoli (Female version – nice dramatic video with this one!)