There are pieces of music that feel almost like old friends. Antonio Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons is one of them. Its opening gestures are instantly recognizable — birdsong and storms, harvest celebrations and biting cold — and yet recognition does not diminish its power. In the right hands, this music remains vivid and supple, capable of delight, surprise, and moments of real intimacy.
What allows The Four Seasons to endure is not simply its descriptive brilliance, but its humanity. Beneath the famous imagery — reinforced by a set of sonnets that Vivaldi published alongside the music — lies a series of concertos built on contrast and character: stillness against motion, warmth edged with unease, lyric calm interrupted by sudden drama. The poems offer vivid cues, but they do not dictate the experience. The music moves freely between description and abstraction, inviting the listener to follow rather than decode.
This evening’s performance is led from the violin by Aisslinn Nosky, whose approach to this repertoire places listening at the centre of the music-making. Leading from within the ensemble emphasizes shared momentum rather than hierarchy. The solo voice emerges from the texture and returns to it, shaping the whole rather than standing apart. What results is not display for its own sake, but a collective act of storytelling.
For audiences on Vancouver Island, Nosky’s presence carries an added resonance. Born in Nanaimo and raised on the Island, she began her musical life here before forging an international career rooted in curiosity, experimentation, and deep engagement with early music. That outward journey — and this return — lends a quiet sense of homecoming to the performance, particularly in a work so closely tied to cycles of nature and place.
Nosky’s musical perspective has been shaped by long experience at the heart of the early-music world. She was a core member of Tafelmusik in Toronto for many years, performing extensively with the ensemble and leading it on occasion from the violin. She now serves as concertmaster of the Handel and Haydn Society in Boston, one of the oldest and most important organizations in North America specializing in period performance. Together, those experiences speak to a form of leadership grounded in listening, stylistic fluency, and a confident command of musical character.
That confidence is audible in her playing. Even when working with modern instruments, Nosky’s deep familiarity with Baroque performance practice informs every choice of articulation, pacing, and balance. Fast passages feel buoyant and energized; quieter moments remain focused and intent. The result is music-making that feels both assured and responsive — expressive without exaggeration, vivid without strain.
Between Vivaldi and Rameau comes Emily Doolittle’s Falling Still, a work that asks us to listen differently. Rather than imitating nature, the piece explores a subtle distinction: between
sounds shaped by choice — such as birdsong — and sounds that arise from natural processes like wind, rain, or waves.
In Falling Still, these ideas unfold in parallel. A flexible solo line moves freely, constantly adjusting and reshaping itself, while the lower strings trace a slowly descending harmonic cycle that repeats with very little variation. Once set in motion, this process continues steadily, like a natural force unfolding over time. Only briefly do the two layers interact more directly before the pattern resumes. Within this program, the work functions as a moment of recalibration — a clearing of the ear that invites patience, attentiveness, and heightened awareness.
Jean-Philippe Rameau’s Les Boréades brings us back into motion with a distinctly theatrical spirit. Eighteenth-century Parisian opera prized spectacle, dance, and instrumental colour, and Rameau — who came late to opera, composing his first stage work at fifty — quickly realized that his orchestral writing could thrive beyond the theatre. He was among the first composers to extract suites from his operas, noting that audiences often seemed especially fond of the instrumental sections.
Les Boréades, Rameau’s final opera, was never staged during his lifetime. Rehearsals began in 1764, but Rameau died before the premiere, and the work was set aside for nearly two centuries. As a result, modern performances involve a degree of rediscovery and interpretation. Even so, the dances and instrumental airs stand confidently on their own.
Set in a mythological world governed by gods and elemental forces, the opera frequently evokes the wind — hardly surprising in a story involving Boreas, the god of the north wind. Rushing string figures, swirling textures, and vivid orchestral colours suggest motion and atmosphere, and listeners may hear an echo of Vivaldi’s own musical winds, which were widely known in Paris during Rameau’s lifetime.
Taken together, the program traces a thoughtful arc. Vivaldi’s familiar landscapes invite renewed attention. Doolittle’s Falling Still asks us to slow down and listen more deeply. Rameau’s dances return us to motion, colour, and theatrical joy. What connects these works is not period or style, but a shared concern with how music moves through time — and how it moves us.
At the centre of it all is Aisslinn Nosky — soloist, leader, collaborator, and Island-born musician — guiding this journey with curiosity and generosity. The result is not a museum presentation of Baroque music, but something immediate and human: a shared listening experience that reminds us why this music has lasted, and why it continues to speak.
Aisslinn Nosky, violin / leader