Alexander Glazunov - The Seasons, Op. 67: 7 Reasons This Ballet is a Hidden Gem
I almost dismissed it. "Another 'Four Seasons'?" I thought, rolling my eyes so hard I nearly sprained something. The world has Vivaldi's masterpiece; did we really need another trip around the sun set to music? Boy, was I wrong. Alexander Glazunov's ballet, The Seasons, isn't a Vivaldi clone; it's a forgotten explosion of raw, elemental power wrapped in the lush velvet of late-Romantic Russian orchestration. It’s the kind of music that feels like a secret handshake for classical music lovers.
We're conditioned to think of the great Russian ballets as narrative giants—Swan Lake, The Nutcracker, Sleeping Beauty. They tell epic stories. But Glazunov’s Op. 67, created with the legendary choreographer Marius Petipa in 1899, does something entirely different. It doesn't tell a story; it paints a feeling, an atmosphere, an allegory. It’s less of a fairytale and more of a force of nature. So, grab your coffee, get comfortable, and let's talk about why this stunning piece of music deserves a prime spot on your playlist and in your heart.
1. So, You Think You Know 'The Seasons'? Think Again.
Before we dive into the gorgeous details, let's set the stage. Alexander Glazunov (1865-1936) was a musical prodigy who became a titan of the Russian classical scene. He was a bridge between the old nationalist guard (like "The Five") and the more cosmopolitan, Tchaikovsky-influenced school. His music is rich, brilliantly orchestrated, and unabashedly romantic. When he teamed up with Marius Petipa, the master choreographer of the Imperial Ballet, the expectation was for another grand story. Instead, they delivered an abstract masterpiece.
This isn’t a ballet about people living through the seasons. It's a ballet where the seasons are the characters. Winter, Spring, Summer, and Autumn—along with their companions like Frost, Hail, Zephyr, and Bacchantes—take center stage. It’s a pure celebration of nature’s cycle, expressed through glorious sound and movement. Think of it less like a novel and more like a collection of breathtaking landscape paintings that come to life.
2. Scene I: Winter's Icy, Crystalline Beauty
Glazunov doesn't waste time. After a short, expectant prelude, we're plunged into a stark, frozen landscape. The music isn't just "cold"; it shimmers with a kind of dangerous beauty. The scene is broken into several short variations:
- Frost: Represented by sharp, pizzicato strings and crisp woodwinds. You can almost see delicate ice crystals forming on a windowpane.
- Ice: This variation is smoother, more glacial. The melodies glide on the strings, suggesting the slow, immense power of a frozen river.
- Hail: A furious, percussive dance. The orchestra rattles and cracks, a perfect musical depiction of a sudden hailstorm. It's exhilarating and a little terrifying.
- Snow: And then, the mood shifts. A beautiful, swirling waltz for the snowflakes, led by the flute and celesta. It's pure Russian ballet magic, reminiscent of the "Waltz of the Snowflakes" from The Nutcracker but with its own unique, melancholic charm.
The tableau ends with two gnomes lighting a fire, the warmth of the flames (represented by rising, hopeful chords) causing the winter spirits to vanish. It's a masterclass in orchestral storytelling without a single spoken word.
3. Scene II: Spring's Gentle, Hopeful Awakening
If Winter was crystalline and sharp, Spring is soft, pastel, and full of tender promise. The transition is seamless. The music breathes. Harps ripple, and woodwinds trade gentle, bird-like calls. This scene is a delicate dance between Zephyr (the gentle west wind), birds, and flowers.
Glazunov’s orchestration here is simply divine. He uses the full palette of the orchestra to create a sense of life returning to the world. It’s not the dramatic, earth-shattering spring of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring (which would come about a decade later); it's a more graceful, optimistic vision. It’s the feeling of the first warm day after a long winter, when you can finally open the windows and smell the earth again. It’s pure, unadulterated joy.
4. Scene III: Summer's Lazy, Sun-Drenched Haze
Summer arrives with a feeling of glorious, sleepy heat. The scene opens with the beautiful "Waltz of the Cornflowers and Poppies," a languid, sweeping melody that feels like a warm breeze over a field of grain. But the true heart of this tableau is the Barcarolle.
A Barcarolle is traditionally a folk song sung by Venetian gondoliers, and Glazunov’s version captures that gentle, rocking motion perfectly. It’s a moment of sublime peace, with a gorgeous melody carried by the strings and horns. Satyrs and Fauns appear, attempting to abduct the Spirit of the Corn, but the whole affair feels more playful than menacing. This section is Glazunov at his most lyrical and romantic. It’s music to get lost in.
5. Scene IV: Autumn's Wild, Raging Bacchanale
And now for the main event. If you know any piece from Alexander Glazunov - The Seasons, Op. 67, it's this one. The "Autumn Bacchanale" is one of the most thrilling, energetic, and downright fun pieces in the entire classical repertoire. It’s a wild, drunken celebration of the harvest, full of pounding rhythms, soaring brass fanfares, and swirling string melodies. This is the orchestra completely unleashed.
This piece has taken on a life of its own, frequently performed as a standalone concert piece. You might even recognize it from its use in Disney's 1940 film Fantasia, where it accompanies a mythical scene with Bacchus and his centaur followers. It’s a perfect piece of music—it builds, it crests, it explodes with joy and abandon. The ballet then moves through a gentle adagio before the Grand Coda brings all four seasons together in a final, triumphant apotheosis, revealing the constellations in the sky. It's a truly magnificent ending.
6. The Glazunov vs. Vivaldi Showdown: Why It's Not a Competition
It’s impossible not to compare the two, but it’s also a bit unfair. They were trying to do completely different things, separated by 175 years of musical evolution.
Vivaldi's "The Four Seasons" (c. 1725)
- Style: Baroque. It's crisp, clear, and structured. The orchestra is small (strings and harpsichord).
- Concept: Programmatic. It's a literal depiction of events. The accompanying sonnets tell you exactly what you're hearing: a barking dog, a sleeping goatherd, shivering peasants, a hunt.
- Focus: Human experience within nature.
Glazunov's "The Seasons" (1899)
- Style: Late-Romantic. It's lush, emotional, and massive. The orchestra is huge, with a full brass and percussion section.
- Concept: Allegorical. It’s a symbolic representation of the spirit of the seasons. There's no story, only mood and character.
- Focus: Nature as a mythical, elemental force.
Think of it this way: If Vivaldi gives you a stunningly detailed documentary of a year in the Italian countryside, Glazunov gives you an epic fantasy film about the gods who control the weather. Both are brilliant. Both are essential. But they aren't competing for the same prize.
7. Your Practical Listening Guide: 5 Steps to Truly Hear The Seasons
Ready to dive in? Here’s how to get the most out of your first (or next) listen.
- Don't Look for a Story. Forget about plot. Let the music wash over you. Ask yourself, "What does this feel like?" not "What is happening?"
- Listen for Orchestral Color. Pay attention to which instruments Glazunov uses. Notice the sparkle of the celesta in "Snow," the warmth of the horns in the "Barcarolle," the raw power of the brass in the "Bacchanale." He’s a master painter with sound.
- Start with "Autumn." If the full 40-minute ballet feels intimidating, just start with the final tableau. The "Bacchanale" is a perfect, high-energy entry point. If you love it, you'll be hooked.
- Find a Good Recording. The quality of the performance matters. Look for recordings by conductors known for their interpretations of Russian music, like Yevgeny Svetlanov or Valery Gergiev. A dynamic, colorful performance makes all the difference.
- Visualize. Close your eyes and let the music create images in your mind. Don't worry if they don't match the original ballet. What does "Frost" look like to you? What does the "Waltz of the Cornflowers" feel like? Make it your own experience.
Frequently Asked Questions
What is Alexander Glazunov's The Seasons about?
It's not "about" a story in the traditional sense. It's an allegorical ballet where the four seasons and their natural companions (like Frost, Flowers, and Winds) are personified as characters. The ballet is a series of dances celebrating the annual cycle of nature. You can read more about its structure in the sections above.
How is Glazunov's The Seasons different from Vivaldi's?
The biggest difference is intent and style. Vivaldi's is a programmatic Baroque work depicting specific events (a storm, a hunt). Glazunov's is a lush, allegorical Late-Romantic work evoking the spirit and mood of each season. We break this down in detail in our Glazunov vs. Vivaldi Showdown.
What is the most famous part of Glazunov's The Seasons?
Without a doubt, the "Autumn Bacchanale." It's a vibrant, energetic, and incredibly famous orchestral piece often performed on its own in concerts and famously used in Disney's Fantasia. Check out our analysis of the Autumn scene to learn more.
Was The Seasons a successful ballet?
Yes, it was well-received at its premiere in 1900 at the Hermitage Theatre in St. Petersburg. However, it never achieved the blockbuster fame of narrative ballets like Swan Lake or The Nutcracker. Today, the music is far more famous as a concert suite than the ballet is as a staged production, though it is revived periodically by major companies.
Who was Marius Petipa?
Marius Petipa (1818-1910) is arguably the most influential ballet choreographer in history. As the Premier Maître de Ballet of the St. Petersburg Imperial Theatres, he choreographed over 50 ballets, including classics like Sleeping Beauty, Don Quixote, and the definitive revivals of Swan Lake and Giselle. The Seasons was one of his last major works.
What is a "Bacchanale"?
A Bacchanale is a piece of music or a dance inspired by the wild, ecstatic rites of Bacchus (or Dionysus), the Greco-Roman god of wine, fertility, and madness. Musically, they are typically fast, rhythmic, and have a feeling of wild abandon, which perfectly describes Glazunov's famous Autumn dance.
Is Glazunov's music hard to listen to for a beginner?
Not at all! Glazunov is one of the most accessible Late-Romantic composers. His music is full of beautiful melodies, rich harmonies, and exciting rhythms. The Seasons is a perfect entry point because its sections are short and have very clear, evocative moods. Our listening guide offers tips for new listeners.
Conclusion: It's Time to Add Glazunov to Your Rotation
The Seasons is so much more than a historical curiosity or a "second-rate" Vivaldi. It is a masterpiece of orchestral color, a testament to the genius of a composer at the height of his powers. It’s music that can be icy and intimidating one moment, tender and hopeful the next, and erupt into pure, uninhibited joy. It doesn’t demand that you follow a complex plot; it only asks that you listen and feel.
So, the next time you're reaching for that Vivaldi recording—and don't get me wrong, I love it too—just pause. Give Glazunov a chance. Put on the "Autumn Bacchanale" at full volume and let me know if it doesn't completely change your perspective on what a musical season can be. Go on, I dare you. You might just discover your new favorite piece of classical music.
Alexander Glazunov, The Seasons Op. 67, Russian ballet music, Marius Petipa, late Romantic music
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