Last fall, the Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra and Nicholas McGegan started their 30th season together by presenting for the first time to an American public Alessandro Scarlatti’s forgotten serenata entitled La gloria di primavera (The Glory of Spring). Now, the same musical forces introduced this extravagant work to Carnegie Hall’s public.
In terms of complexity, the lesser known serenata – a celebratory or panegyrical full scale vocal and orchestral piece – is placed between a cantata and an opera seria. It required a richer instrumentation than a cantata but had fewer characters and was not normally fully staged. Every soloist sings in turn his own A-B-A structured aria preceded by a recitativo using just a minimal continuo accompaniment.
La gloria di primavera had its première exactly 300 years ago in Naples. The court composer Alessandro Scarlatti was commissioned to quickly write a pièce d’occasion, honoring the recent and long awaited birth of Archduke Leopold Johann, the heir of the Holy Roman Emperor Charles VI. At the time it was first performed, La gloria was associated with the genuine hope that Europe could avoid another ravaging dynastic war. Unfortunately, the young prince died in a couple of months, optimism subsided quickly and, related or not to the historical events, Scarlatti’s opus, after just three successful public performances, faded into obscurity.
It is a mythical allegory anchored in historical facts. The text, written by Niccolò Giovo, the Neapolitan princess’ private secretary, includes very little as an evolving narrative. First, the four personified seasons reminisce on the significance of the prince’s birth, mentioning several symbols – the Danube, the eagle – of the Austrian Empire. A second cycle of arias contrasts the horrors of the recently ended War of the Spanish Succession with the beneficial-for-all peace brought by the Treaty of Utrecht (1713). Unable to agree which of them had more importance in terms of the conception, preservation and the birth of the April-born crown prince, the seasons invoke Jove to be their judge. Appearing at the beginning of the second part, the supreme god listens to their claims and obviously decides that Spring (Primavera), is the prizewinner. The remainder of the work offers a new series of statements regarding the importance of the Archduke’s birth and protective benedictions against the Empire’s enemies. The apotheosis is marked by Jove himself claiming the young prince as his spiritual son in a returned Golden Age.