Lynda O'Connor: The Irish Seasons: Ailbhe McDonagh • Antonio Vivaldi
Avie Records

It's telling that Irish violinist Lynda O'Connor titled her album The Irish Seasons rather than The Four Seasons, despite the fact that Vivaldi's beloved warhorse precedes Ailbhe McDonagh's and is also twice its length. The gesture speaks to O'Connor's high regard for the riveting violin concerto crafted by the Irish composer (b. 1982) in response to her Italian Baroque counterpart's opus. On O'Connor's debut solo album, the world-premiere of The Irish Four Seasons synthesizes Baroque style and Irish culture in a riveting manner, and McDonagh has accomplished something quite remarkable in so deftly honouring Vivaldi (1678–1741) whilst at the same time weaving Ireland's musical heritage into the writing.

Presented in four programmatic movements, The Irish Four Seasons advances from “Earrach (Spring)” and “Samhradh (Summer)” to “Fómhar (Autumn)” and “Geimhreadh (Winter).” The more elaborately structured Le quattro stagioni, by comparison, sequences four three-part concertos, with “La primavera,” “L'estate,” “L'autunno,” and “L'inverno” each adhering to a fast-slow-fast format. The material has been trod by many, yet hearing its pastoral evocations and allusions to barking dogs, summer storms, and chilling winter winds never gets old. Appropriately, O'Connor, the fifteen-member Anamus ensemble (formed for the project by the violinist), and Irish conductor David Brophy recorded the material in November 2022 at the Windmill Lane Studios in Dublin.

Even though The Irish Seasons is O'Connor's debut solo album, she's recognized as one of the greatest Irish violinists of her generation. After making her debut solo performance at the age of four at Dublin's National Concert Hall, she's performed with orchestras and ensembles around the world, established herself as an in-demand soloist, chamber musician, and orchestral leader, and boasts a repertoire that extends from Mozart and Mendelssohn to Beethoven and Bach.

The radiant theme that initiates “La primavera” boisterously is delivered singingly by O'Connor and Anamus, after which trilling bird calls add to the ecstatic outpouring that spring's arrival engenders. The remainder of the movement is executed with such effervescence and enthusiasm, one could be forgiven for thinking it's the first time it's ever been publicly performed. The subsequent “Largo” offers a poignant reply to the first movement, especially when the violinist's emoting registers so powerfully, while the “Allegro” that follows reinstates the joyous tone of the opening with a graceful rustic dance. One might expect the character of the first concerto to carry over into “L'estate,” but it begins on a rather sombre and lethargic note, the gesture perhaps intended to suggest the sapping of energy incurred by blistering heat. The moment passes quickly, however, when the music jumps to attention, the move signifying the sudden onset of a turbulent storm. O'Connor's articulation of sorrow in the central slow movement is impeccably realized, after which the string players and harpsichordist generate a furious torrent in the stormy “Presto.” Subverting expectations, “L'autunno” eschews melancholy for rhapsodic joy, the picture painted one of people celebrating a bountiful fall harvest. The lilt of the violin's pizzicato amplifies the somnolent quality of the short middle movement; the concluding “Allegro,” by comparison, exudes all the focused energy and concentrated attention of hunters tracking prey. After “L'inverno” creeps in stealthily, with violins flickering and fluttering like snowflakes, the stately “Largo” warms us by the fire until the concluding movement reminds us of winter's splendour before exiting.

McDonagh, who has more than 250 published works and commissions to her name, initiates her mesmerizing concerto with the unaccompanied soloist playing a moving Irish air, the listener immediately enraptured in “Earrach (Spring)” by the beauty of the writing and O'Connor's heartfelt expression. The music swells into a towering reel before returning to the affecting air with which it began. Urgent and tempestuous, “Samhradh (Summer)” delivers a series of intense string flurries before decompressing for a plaintive Irish air in the middle. “Fómhar (Autumn)” tickles the senses by starting with an endearing slip jig before things turn dramatic and lyrical. Rounding off the work, all of the previous movements' themes return in “Geimhreadh (Winter),” which begins slowly with O'Connor layering a haunting solo over a stark drone before climaxing explosively.

February 2025