Famous composers of the Romantic Era

The Romantic era in music is generally taken to mean the period from about 1820 to 1920, which was a century during which a massive amount of music in all genres was produced, and it must also represent the greatest concentration of “famous” composers, if by that is meant those whose works are performed regularly today and which are instantly recognisable.

This was an age when composers wrote music that spoke to the heart and used it to express deep feelings and emotions. They were happy to break the rules and to experiment with new forms that might shock but might also strike a chord with their audiences. The audience was also an important factor, in that Romantic music was largely intended to be heard by the general public as opposed to private patrons and small elite audiences.

It is convenient to divide this era into sub-eras, each of which featured a large number of composers, but some stand out more than others.

The classification below relates to the birth dates of the composers rather than their active periods.


Classical/Romantic Transition

Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827, German). He is often regarded as the first Romantic composer, with his 9th Symphony (first performed in 1825) fitting the “Romantic” bill as a huge emotional outburst that crossed the boundary between symphony and opera with its 4th movement setting of Schiller’s Ode to Joy for soloists and chorus.

Carl Maria von Weber (1786-1826, German). He is known mostly for his operas, including “Der Freischütz” (first performed in1821) which belongs squarely in the Gothic tradition.

Gioachino Rossini (1792-1868, Italian). He was a prolific writer of operas (including The Barber of Seville) in his youth, but later retired from composing.

Franz Schubert (1797-1828, Austrian). He composed more than 600 songs as well as nine symphonies and a huge amount of chamber and sacred music.

Early Romantic Era

Hector Berlioz (1803-69, French). He ticked all the “Romantic” boxes by writing music for huge orchestral and choral forces, and his programmatic symphonies such as the Symphonie Fantastique, as well as his love of all things Gothic and his turbulent love life.

Felix Mendelssohn (1809-47, German). He is known for his highly expressive symphonies, concertos and overtures, plus a wealth of songs and music for chamber ensembles and solo piano. His “Hebrides Overture” of 1830 (otherwise known as “Fingal’s Cave”) is an early example of a tone poem or symphonic poem.

Frederic Chopin (1810-49, Polish). He never wrote anything that was not intended for the piano, played either as a solo instrument or with other instruments, including two piano concertos. He developed a number of musical forms, including the polonaise, prelude, nocturne and mazurka.

Robert Schumann (1810-56, German). At first he wrote little apart from piano music but later became a prolific composer of songs and other music, including four symphonies. The change was inspired by his love affair with Clara Wieck. He suffered from mental illness later in his life.

Franz Liszt (1811-86, Hungarian). He is best known for his piano works, included transcriptions of orchestral works by other composers. He also wrote symphonic poems, dances (such as his “Hungarian Rhapsodies”) and songs.

Richard Wagner (1813-83, German). He composed little apart from operas, some of which were based on German folklore. Many of these, such as the four-opera Ring Cycle, were large-scale works that demand a great deal from their audiences, hence the comment by Rossini that Wagner had “wonderful moments but dreadful quarters of an hour”.

Giuseppe Verdi (1813-1901, Italian). One of opera’s greatest exponents, his works included many that are performed today, including La Traviata, Rigoletto and Aida. His “Requiem” of 1874 is notable for its highly operatic scoring and orchestration.


Middle Romantic Era

Anton Bruckner (1824-96, Austrian). He is best known for his nine symphonies (plus his “Symphony No. 0”) which are massive in scope and construction. He also wrote some major sacred choral works.

Johann Strauss II (1825-99, Austrian). Known as the “Waltz King”, he was the chief composer of waltzes, polkas and other dance music during the heyday of Vienna as the entertainment capital of Europe. He also composed light operas including Die Fledermaus.

Johannes Brahms (1833-97, German). He was seen at first as the natural successor to Beethoven, with his long-awaited First Symphony being dubbed “Beethoven’s 10th”. His orchestral works included four symphonies and two piano concertos, and he also wrote many songs, much chamber music, and choral masterpieces such as “A German Requiem”.

Camille Saint-Saëns (1835-1921, French). A composer of symphonies, concertos, operas and chamber music who is best known for a piece he suppressed during his lifetime, namely the humorous and satirical “Carnival of the Animals”.

Max Bruch (1838-1920, German). He is best known for his ever-popular 1st Violin Concerto, which is highly melodic and typifies the Romantic style. He also wrote several other concertos plus four symphonies, songs, chamber music and his often heard “Scottish Fantasy” for violin and orchestra.


Late Romantic Era

Pyotr Tchaikovsky (1840-93, Russian). One of the most melodic of all composers, he wrote six symphonies, three piano concertos, a violin concerto, ten operas, three ballets, and a number of other orchestral works including the “1812 Overture” with cannon fire and church bells.

Antonin Dvořák (1841-1904, Czech). He was greatly influenced by the folk music of his native country, as evidenced by his “Slavonic Dances” of 1878 and 1886. The best known of his nine symphonies was his last, “From the New World”, in which he incorporated American themes and idioms gathered during a three-year stay in the United States.

Edvard Grieg (1843-1907, Norwegian). He is renowned for his Piano Concerto but also for his incidental music to Ibsen’s “Peer Gynt” and his “Holberg Suite”. Folk tunes from Norway pervade his music.

Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov (1844-1908, Russian). He wrote operas and orchestral works, such as the lushly romantic Scheherazade, and edited and completed the works of other Russian composers.

Edward Elgar (1857-1934, British). He could write music that was either lyrical and light, as in most of the “Enigma Variations”, or directly nationalistic, as in his “Pomp and Circumstance Marches”. His best-loved works include the passionate Violin Concerto of 1910 and the elegiac Cello Concerto of 1919.

Giacomo Puccini (1858-1924, Italian). He wrote some of the best-loved operas of all time that are regularly performed worldwide, including Tosca, La Bohème, Madame Butterfly and Turandot.


Transition to the 20th Century

Gustav Mahler (1860-1911, Austrian). He wrote nine completed symphonies, some of which were of large compass and highly experimental, using soloists and choruses as well as unusual orchestrations. He also excelled in song cycles, including the early “Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen” and the late “Das Lied von der Erde”.

Claude Debussy (1862-1918, French). He has been termed an “impressionist” composer, who used both piano and orchestra to evoke mood and colour. Typical pieces are "Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune", and “La Mer”.

Frederick Delius (1862-1934, British). Although he wrote several operas and much chamber music, he is best known for his evocative orchestral tone poems such as “On Hearing the First Cuckoo in Spring” and “A Song of Summer”.

Jean Sibelius (1865-1957, Finnish). Much of his music was deeply nationalistic in tone, particularly his orchestral overture “Finlandia” and his more lyrical “Karelia Suite”. He wrote seven symphonies and an often-played violin concerto.

Sergei Rachmaninov (1873-1943, Russian). Often dubbed the last Romantic, two of his four piano concertos (the second and third) are among the most popular ever played. He also composed three symphonies, a set of “Symphonic Dances” and his “Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini” that is a set of variations for piano and orchestra.

Maurice Ravel (1875-1937, French). Like Debussy, he was a musical impressionist, best known for his “Bolero” which consists of an extended theme that is repeated time after time with added orchestration and volume. Other works that are heard regularly include his “Piano Concerto in G”, his “Daphnis and Chloe” ballet suite and his orchestration of Modest Mussorgsky’s “Pictures at an Exhibition”.

As mentioned above, this is only a selection of composers who deserve to be termed “famous” and who fit into the Romantic mould. It would be quite possible to double the number and still leave out some important contributors to the era! It should be safe to say that some 70% of the music played on a popular “classical” music radio station, such as Classic FM in the United Kingdom, was composed during the 100-year period specified above, such is the enduring appeal of the music of the Romantic composers.

© John Welford

The Rite of Spring riot, 1913

How many times have you heard someone say “it was a riot!” when expressing approval of a dramatic or musical performance? Usually they don’t mean it literally, but that was just about a fair description of the first night of Stravinsky’s ballet “The Rite of Spring” when it premiered in Paris on 29^th May 1913.

The Rite of Spring riot

The Rite of Spring was the third ballet that the Russian composer Igor Stravinsky (1882-1971) wrote for his fellow Russian, the impresario Sergei Diaghilev (1872-1929). His previous ballets, “The Firebird” (1910) and “Petrushka” (1911) had both been great successes for Diaghilev’s Ballet Russes during their Paris seasons, so there was every reason to expect that The Rite of Spring would be received equally warmly.

However, this turned out to be a huge overestimate of the reaction of the audience at the Théâtre de Champs Elysées. The shouting and screaming started moments after the curtain rose and the music started to play. The ballet had been choreographed by Vaslav Nijinsky, who was reduced to shouting out numbers from the wings, standing on a chair, to tell the dancers what to do because they could not hear the music above the noise from the auditorium.

Not all members of the audience were antagonistic to the performance, and that was part of the trouble. Fights broke out between the “pros” and the “antis” and the police had to be called to separate people who were throwing punches at each other.

Why the riot?

So why did the ballet excite such violent reactions? It was a combination of Stravinsky’s music and Nijinsky’s choreography that that was too much for a section of the Paris audience. The theme of “The Rite”, subtitled “Pictures of Pagan Russia”, was an ancient fertility rite in which a virgin is sacrificed to placate the forces of nature and ensure the return  of spring after a long winter. The music is earthy and sensual, and Nijinsky did everything he could to portray earthiness and sensuality in the movements of the dancers.

The whole thing was highly original, but also shocking for people who were not expecting anything along those lines. If you think that spring is all about cherry blossom and bunny rabbits bouncing through green meadows, then images of orgiastic rites and virgins being sacrificed are quite likely to be upsetting!

The reactions of the people who created the performance were quite revealing. Stravinsky was pleased with how the music was played, although puzzled by what Nijinksky was doing in the wings. He described his reaction to the night as “excited, angry, disgusted and happy”. Diaghilev commented that it was “Exactly what I wanted”, which made Stravinsky wonder if Diaghilev had not foreseen such a reaction from the very beginning of the project.

In all events, The Rite of Spring, which is more often performed these days as an orchestral work than as a ballet, has become a standard “classic” that is highly acclaimed all over the world. It is still a disturbing and no-holds-barred piece of music that hits one in the solar plexus, but audiences no longer feel the urge to pick fights with each other when they hear it!

© John Welford

The Magic Flute, by W A Mozart: a summary of the plot

This was Mozart's final opera, receiving its premiere only three months before his death in December 1791. It is an allegorical fantasy, full of fairy story elements and also references to Freemasonry. Mozart and the librettist, Emanuel Schickaneder, were members of the same Masonic lodge.

The music of the opera is notable both for its extreme difficulty and its simplicity. The librettist was also an amateur singer for whom the part of Papageno was written, so his music is notable for having all the lines stated by the orchestra in advance, so that he could find his pitch. However, the part of the Queen of the Night was sung by a soprano of the highest musical ability, as is evident from her famous aria "Hell's vengeance boils in my heart" which is generally regarded as one of the most difficult in all opera. It was famously mangled by Florence Foster Jenkins (1868-1944), who thought she could sing, but couldn't, which didn't stop her from proving the point to thousands at the Carnegie Hall and elsewhere. 

However, back to the plot. This was originally written in two acts, but the opera has also been performed in four. As it is easier to take it all in as a four-acter, here we go:


Act 1. A Forest. (This is supposed to be Egypt, which is not renowned for the denseness of its forests)

Prince Tamino has lost his way, and is being pursued by a giant serpent (suspend your disbelief NOW!). His cries bring three fairies to his aid, who promptly slay the serpent with their spears. A strange being now enters - a man clad in birds' feathers. This is Papageno, who claims that this is by far the best way to catch birds. He also claims that it was he who slew the serpent. The fairies will have none of this and fasten a padlock on his lips to punish him for telling porkies.

They also show the prince a picture of the beautiful maiden Pamina, who is being held captive by Sarastro at the Temple of Isis. Right on cue, Pamina's mother, the Queen of the Night, enters and calls on Tamino to rescue the girl. As is always the case on these occasions, he agrees, and is given a magic flute that will protect him from danger. Papageno is to accompany him, and he is given a chime of bells in place of the padlock.

Act II. Scene 1. The Palace of Sarastro 

Monastatos, a moor, has been annoying Pamina with his attentions and is about to make off with her when Papageno arrives to announce the coming of the prince. Pamina makes ready to escape with them.


Scene 2. Entrance to the Temple

The Temple of Isis has three doors. At two of them Tamino is denied entry, but at the third a priest appears and tells him that he is all wrong about Sarastro, who is really the good guy; it's Pamina's mother, who is a sorceress, that he should be worried about. Pamina and Papageno now appear, but Monastatos prevents their escape. Sarastro enters, hears the story so far, and orders that Monastatos be punished. He greets Tamino who, naturally enough, has fallen in love with Pamina, but tells him that he must prove his worth by undergoing a series of ordeals.


Act III. Scene 1. A Palm Grove

The temple priests meet to consider the case of the two lovers and agree that they can be united if Tamino passes the tests he is about to face.


Scene 2. A Courtyard

The first ordeal is that neither Tamino nor Papageno must speak. Three attendants of the Queen of the Night appear and try to tempt them, but they hold firm, although this is a struggle for Papageno.


Scene 3. A Garden

Pamina is asleep and is approached by Monastatos, but he hides himself when the Queen of the Night enters and hands Pamina a dagger, which she is commanded to use to kill Sarastro. When the Queen goes, Monastatos threatens Pamina but is foiled when Sarastro appears.


Scene 4. A Corridor in the Temple

The ordeal of silence becomes too much for Papageno, but Tamino stays silent even when Pamina whispers sweet nothings to him. She is somewhat put out when he refuses to reply.


Act IV. Scene 1. The Pyramids

For his next ordeal, the prince is commanded to wander off into the desert, leaving Pamina behind. Papageno wishes that he had a girlfriend too, at which an old hag appears who turns into the young and pretty Papagena. However, he must also prove himself to be worthy before she can be his.


Scene 2. The Desert

Pamina believes that the prince has been faithless to her, by not speaking and then wandering off, and is about to kill herself with her mother's dagger when she is prevented by the temple servants. Papageno is also distraught that Papagena has disappeared, but happiness returns when he discovers that ringing his chime of bells brings her back.


Scene 3. A Fiery Cavern

For the last of his ordeals, Tamino is menaced by waterfalls and tongues of flame, beyond which he can see Pamina. He calls to her, his lips now being unsealed, and the lovers are reunited. A few notes from the flute cause all the remaining dangers to vanish.


Scene 4. The Temple of Isis

Sarastro welcomes the prince and the maiden and joins their hands. Papageno and Papagena also make a lovely couple, while the Queen of the Night and her servant the moor (who would have guessed it?) are vanquished.

© John Welford

Madame Butterfly, by Giacomo Puccini: a summary of the plot

This is one of the best-known and loved of all operas, both for its superb music and its plot, a tragedy of broken faith in which the whole audience longs to scream out to Butterfly, "Don't trust him!"

The opera had several sources, including "Madame Chrysantheme", a novel by Pierre Loti dating from 1887, and a short story (1898) by the American writer John Luther Long that was turned into a play by David Belasco. Puccini's opera was itself the inspiration for "Miss Saigon", the musical that premiered in 1989.

At its first performance, at La Scala, Milan on 17th February 1904, the opera was not the success that the composer hoped for. However, by splitting the original two acts into three and making some other changes, Puccini ensured that this would become one of his greatest successes, and a "standard" in the repertory of opera companies across the world.

Act 1 - A villa in the naval port of Nagasaki, Japan

Lieutenant Pinkerton, U.S. Navy, seeks the advice of a marriage broker, having been told that his posting in Japan will be a long one. The marriage broker assures him that any marriage will only be binding as long as he consents to live with his wife, after which she will be free to marry again. However, the lady in question, Cho-Cho-San, sees things differently, as she falls in love with Pinkerton and believes that she will be marrying him for life. She even goes so far as to renounce her religion and thus severs all ties with her own people.

Sharpless, the American consul and Pinkerton's friend, tries to prevent the match by telling Pinkerton how serious the girl is about it. At the wedding feast, Cho-Cho-San's uncle, a priest, appears and heaps curses on her head for renouncing her faith. All her relatives desert her, but she clings to her new husband, who calms her fears. The scene ends with mutual protestations of love.

Act 2 - The villa, three years later

After a short but blissful wedded life, Pinkerton has been recalled to America, promising to return to Cho-Cho-San (now called "Madame Butterfly"), "when the robins nest again". She trusts him implicitly, but her maid, Suzuki, has different thoughts.

The battleship on which Pinkerton serves is ordered back to Japan, and he writes a letter to Sharpless, asking him to break the news to Butterfly that he will be arriving with his new wife, an American. However, when Sharpless takes the letter to Butterfly, she is so overjoyed at seeing a letter in Pinkerton's hand that she completely ignores what it says. She is also deaf to the marriage broker, who tries to arrange a new marriage for her, on the grounds that Pinkerton's desertion amounts to a divorce. "That may be so in Japan," she says, "but I am an American!" When the Consul tries again to convince her of the truth, she introduces a fair-haired child, with the words "My lieutenant cannot forget this".

As Sharpless departs, a cannon shot announces the arrival of Pinkerton's ship. Butterfly and her maid excitedly decorate the house with flowers to welcome her husband, but as the evening drags on he does not appear. Suzuki and the child fall asleep, but Butterfly waits and watches.

Act 3 - The same, the next day

Butterfly has not slept all night. Suzuki wakes and persuades Butterfly to lie down and rest, which she does, so that she can look her best when Pinkerton arrives. When she has left the room, Sharpless, Pinkerton and Kate, his American wife, arrive. When he hears from Suzuki about Butterfly's devotion, he is overtaken by remorse and cannot bear to face his deserted bride. Kate tells Suzuki to tell Butterfly that she will care for the child, but at this point Butterfly enters and hears it directly from Kate. Butterfly retains her composure, congratulates Kate politely, and tells her that, if they return in half an hour, they may have the child.

However, when the Americans return, they find that Butterfly has used her father's sword to end her life. On the sword are inscribed the words "Die with honour when you can no longer live with honour".

© John Welford

Der Freischütz, by Carl Maria von Weber: a summary of the plot

Carl Maria von Weber was born in Eutin (in what is now northern Germany) on 18th November 1786 and died in London (during a visit) on 5th June 1826. He is best known today for a handful of operas, including Der Freischütz and Oberon, his second clarinet concerto, which is one of the finest works in the clarinet repertoire, and the orchestral "Invitation to the Dance". A contemporary of Beethoven and Schubert, he was one of the progenitors of the Romantic movement in European music.

Der Freischütz dates from 1821, when "Gothic" was all the rage. This was the age of Frankenstein and the sort of nonsense that Jane Austen satirised so brilliantly in "Northanger Abbey". Before the days of Stephen King and "Friday the 13th", this was the sort of thing that made the flesh creep.

Act 1. The estate of Ottakar, Duke of Bohemia

A new head ranger must be chosen, because Kuno is ready to retire. The candidates are Kilian, a peasant, and Max, who is in love with Agnes, Kuno's daughter. The usual application and interviewing procedure has been set aside, and the winner will be chosen courtesy of a sharp-shooting contest. Max is disappointed to find that Kilian is proving to be the better shot.

Caspar, who has sold his soul to the Devil, as one does, promises Max that he can supply him with magic bullets that cannot possibly miss. Caspar invites Max to try his own gun, with which he brings down a high-flying eagle. Max is convinced, and agrees to buy seven magic bullets for the going rate, namely his soul. The deal will be struck in the Wolf's Glen at midnight.

Act 2, Scene 1. Agnes's room

A bit of time-shifting goes on here, because this scene takes place at the same time as Max's meeting with Caspar. Agnes is very worried about the shooting contest, because she has met a hermit in the forest who has warned her that all is not well. She and her friend Anna are startled when a portrait falls off the wall at the same instant that Max tries Caspar's magic bullet. Max then arrives to tell her that he has an appointment at the Wolf's Glen.

Scene 2. The Wolf's Glen

Given all the build-up, this has to be worth waiting for, and it is! Caspar is in conversation with Zamiel, an evil spirit, and boasts that he has found a new soul-seller. Caspar hopes that this deal will be enough to save him from his own fate. When Max arrives, the bullets are cast one by one. However, what Max does not know is that, although six of the bullets will work as he wishes, the seventh is the Devil's bullet which will hit whatever target Zamiel desires.

Act 3, Scene 1. Agnes's room

Agnes is preparing for her wedding with Max, but her sense of foreboding is reinforced when she finds that the florist has apparently made a terrible mistake and sent a funeral wreath instead of a bridal bouquet. Well, it's not the best of omens, is it? It's enough to give any girl a nasty turn. Fortunately, the hermit she met in the woods has not forgotten her, and has sent a proper bridal wreath. Keep an eye on it, as it could just come in handy later on.

Scene 2. In the Duke's forest

The sharp-shooting contest is in progress, and Max is astonishing all the onlookers by his skill. He has fired six of his bullets and only has one left (the Devil's bullet, remember?). The Duke orders him to shoot at a dove that is flying overhead. Max does so, but Agnes, in her wedding finery, screams and falls to the ground. However, all is not lost, because she has only fainted and recovers quickly. Why is this so, you may well ask? Or you won't, because this is the world of opera and you haven't forgotten about the hermit's wreath, have you? Needless to say, the hermit's blessing is stronger than the power of the Devil and the bullet has been turned aside. Good job she remembered to bring the wreath with her to the shooting match.

Zamiel, cheated of his prey, now seizes on Caspar and takes him off to Hell. The Duke learns the full story from Max, who confesses everything. His punishment is that he must wait a year for both the job and his bride. So the wedding's off. Personally, I feel sorry for young Kilian, who didn't cheat and doesn't get the job either (the assumption is that Kuno will carry on for another year). I reckon he's got a good case for an industrial tribunal, myself.

© John Welford

The Barber of Seville, by Gioacchino Rossini: a summary of the plot

Gioacchino Rossini was born on 29th February 1792, and thus only had a birthday once every four years! He wrote 40 operas between 1810 and 1829, after which he retired from composing operas for the remaining 39 years of his life before his death on 13th November 1868.

The Barber of Seville is probably Rossini's best-known and most often performed opera. It is also an early example of a "prequel" in that it tells of the events that preceded those of Mozart's "The Marriage of Figaro", which had been first performed almost exactly 30 years before Rossini's masterpiece appeared in February 1816.

Not surprisingly, the two operas have the same source, namely the trilogy of "Figaro" plays by Pierre Beaumarchais (1732-1799). However, whereas Mozart based his opera on the second play, Rossini chose the first. Again not surprisingly, both operas are light pieces of comic nonsense, with brilliant music that captures the mood of romantic dalliance, farcical plot twists, and a happy ending for most of the characters.

Rossini took less than three weeks to write this opera, which is one reason why the music is so fresh and sparkling throughout. However, part of the speed is accounted for by the fact that he chose not to write a new overture, simply re-using one that he had used twice before!

Act 1. Scene 1. A street in Seville

Count Almaviva, who is in love with Rosina, the ward of Dr Bartolo, sings a serenade beneath her balcony. He is found there by Figaro, the town barber who was previously in service to the Count, and is recruited to aid him in his quest. (As he enters, Figaro sings the famous "largo al factotum" to introduce himself and boast of how much in demand he is). Rosina appears on the balcony. She is not unhappy about being wooed by the Count, but she is very unhappy with how she is being treated by Bartolo, who is a tyrant with designs on her property. When she leaves, Figaro suggests that a way to gain access to the house would be for the Count to disguise himself as a soldier, supposedly seeking billets for troops. The Count is happy to pay Figaro for his advice.

Scene 2. In Dr Bartolo's house

Rosina sings of her wish to lead her guardian a merry dance, just as Bartolo enters. He has his own plan for marrying his ward, for which he needs the help of Basilio, the music teacher. When Figaro enters, Rosina hands him a letter to be delivered to the Count, but Bartolo is suspicious of what is going on. Rosina manages to fob him off.

The Count now appears, in the disguise suggested by Figaro, but apparently roaring drunk into the bargain. He is able to slip a letter to Rosina, but this time Bartolo sees a piece of paper in her hand and demands to know what it is. Once again, Rosina is too clever for him and hands him her laundry list instead. An argument begins between Bartolo and the disguised Count, and an officer enters to arrest the latter. Bartolo is convinced that the troublemaker has been safely dealt with, but the Count tells the officer who he really is, and is released.

Act II. The music room of Dr Bartolo's house

Count Almaviva enters in a new disguise, that of singing teacher to Rosina in place of Basilio, who is supposed to be ill. Bartolo is still suspicious, and insists that, during the singing lesson, Figaro gives him a shave in the same room. Basilio himself turns up, but is bribed by the Count to stay silent and leave. The lesson continues, during which the lovers arrange to elope at midnight. Eventually, Bartolo's suspicions reach such a pitch that he decides to get the marriage contract between himself and Rosina drawn up there and then.

With the stage empty, a violent thunderstorm breaks out. Figaro and the Count enter via the balcony, having climbed a ladder. The lovers meet and embrace, with Figaro urging them to hurry down the ladder, as he can hear someone approaching. However, the ladder has disappeared, and the trio are found by Basilio and a notary, who have the marriage contract ready to be signed. Basilio, having been bribed once, is persuaded again by the Count, this time to change the name on the contract and bear witness to the marriage of Rosina and the Count. Figaro is happy to be the other witness.

When Bartolo arrives, having been the person who removed the ladder, he is too late. However, Rosina has no need for money, now being the Countess, and she is happy enough to give Bartolo what he wanted all along, namely her property.

© John Welford

Different types of percussion instrument

The word “percussion” comes from the Latin for “to strike hard”, so percussion instruments are generally those that make a noise when they are hit. The most common means of doing this is with a beater or stick of some kind, but there are several variations on the theme. Instruments that are shaken, such as maracas, also count as percussion instruments.

Technically, a piano is a percussion instrument, because the strings are hit by hammers, but a harpsichord is not, because the strings are plucked.

An orchestral percussionist has to know how to play a huge range of instruments, often switching between them at short notice. Although it is not difficult to get a sound out of a percussion instrument, the art is to get exactly the right tone and volume, and to produce the sounds at precisely the right time; when the percussionist gets it wrong, everyone know about it!

Percussion instruments can be divided broadly into two categories, namely those that have a definite pitch and those that do not. The former are generally used to play melodies, such as xylophones, glockenspiels and tubular bells, whereas the latter are used for rhythmic effects, including drums of several kinds, cymbals, triangles, castanets and gongs.

Although the instruments mentioned here are mostly associated with orchestras, percussion is hugely important to musical ensembles of many different kinds, including military marching bands, rock groups, jazz bands and folk music of many different traditions.

Of the drums, the timpani or kettledrums are the most complicated and difficult to play, and the orchestral timpanist normally plays nothing else, with the other percussionists looking after the rest of the instruments. A set of timpani comprises four drums, each being a large copper bowl, of varying sizes, over which a membrane is stretched.

Each drum produces its own note, and it is essential that the timpanist has tuned each drum correctly for the piece being played. This is done by adjusting the tension of the skin, which in turn is done by turning handles around the rim of the drum. A foot pedal can also be used to adjust the pitch during the performance. A timpanist may have to retune his drums while the other instruments are playing, such as during a slow movement when timpani are not usually required. He can often be seen with his ear close to the membrane, tapping the drum very softly so that only he can hear it.

Differences in the tone and quality of the sound will also be produced according to exactly where on the skin the drum is hit, how hard, and what kind of beater is used. A timpanist will often use four or more types of beater during a piece, their coverings varying from soft to hard.

Although the timpanist’s job may look easy it is far from being so. Timpanists usually have years of orchestral experience behind them before they take on the role, otherwise they are unlikely to have the necessary sensitivity.

The other drums which are most commonly seen (and heard) on the concert platform are the side drum, bass drum and tenor drum. The side drum is notable for having “snares” of stretched wire or nylon on one side, hence it is also known as the snare drum. It is normally hit with wooden sticks (sometimes wire brushes, especially in jazz bands) and produces a sharp sound when firmly hit, the snares producing a rattling sound. Rapid beats produce a “drum roll”.

The huge bass drum is usually mounted on its side, suspended on a frame, making a deep booming sound when hit with large felt-covered beaters. It is used to simulate thunder when rolled softly.

The tenor drum is a deeper version of the side drum, but without snares.

Bongos and conga drums are also sometimes used on the concert platform, although associated more with Latin American and African music. Bongos are small drums that come in pairs and are traditionally held between the knees and hit with the hands, although in the orchestra they are usually mounted on a stand and hit with sticks. The conga is a tall and narrow bass drum.

Cymbals are brass discs that, in the orchestra, are usually held, one in each hand, and bashed together. The sound can last for a long time if they are not damped. In jazz and rock bands it is normal to mount single cymbals on stands so that they can be hit with sticks, or in a “hi-hat” arrangement that allows them to be played via a foot pedal that raises one cymbal, mounted horizontally, and allows it to fall on to the other.

A tam-tam is a large gong suspended on a frame that is hit by felt-covered beaters to produce a rolling “oriental” sound.

The tambourine, which is associated with Salvation Army bands but has a very long history going back to ancient times, is a small hand-held drum that has several pairs of metal discs mounted in the frame. These rattle when the drum is hit with the hand, or the tambourine can simply be shaken.

The triangle is only a short metal bar bent into a triangle shape and suspended from a frame, but when hit with a metal rod, either with single beats or rattled within the frame, it can be heard at some distance.

Various other items can be hit or shaken, such as the whip (or slapstick) which is two pieces of wood hinged together, castanets, maracas, claves (two hollow sticks that are hit against each other) and woodblocks.

The category of pitched percussion instruments includes several that imitate bells. Tubular bells are metal tubes hanging in a frame such that they resemble a giant set of pan pipes. They are hit with one or more leather mallets and can sound like church bells.

The glockenspiel comprises thirty metal plates of various sizes arranged in a keyboard pattern to be hit directly with a wooden or metal stick, whereas the celeste is basically a glockenspiel that looks like an upright piano and is played with hands on a keyboard, thus enabling more notes to be played at the same time. The celeste is usually played by a pianist rather than a percussionist. The bell notes are high and tinkling.

The xylophone has wooden bars instead of metal ones, but with metal tubes hanging below each bar to provide amplification and resonance. A variant of the xylophone, playing an octave lower, is the marimba. The vibraphone has metal bars and resonating tubes but also electric fans that blow the vibrating air at different speeds to produce vibrato and tremolo effects.

Players of glockenspiels, xylophones and their variants often use two sticks in each hand to allow them greater versatility.

From time to time, orchestral percussionists may be required to produce sounds from other pieces of kit, such as wind machines, explosive devices (in Tchaikovsky’s “1812 Overture”), or the various mechanical devices in Leopold Mozart’s “Toy Symphony”.

© John Welford