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A concerto is a work for instrumental soloist plus orchestra or group of musicians.<\/strong><\/p>\n Sitting in a concert hall, listening to a piece of orchestral music, has it ever struck you that it\u2019s a rather odd way to spend your time? Three centuries ago, scientist Bernard<\/span> le Bovier de Fontenelle concluded that it wasn\u2019t just odd, it was intellectually decadent. \u2018Sonata, what do you want of me?\u2019 he exclaimed in elegant exasperation.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n The timing is significant. Fontenelle\u2019s age \u2013 the Baroque<\/strong><\/a> \u2013 saw the rise of instrumental music as something proudly self-sufficient. It\u2019s hard to overstate just what an extraordinary new development this was.<\/span><\/p>\n Before that, music either had words or accompanied actions. It was either song or dance, and with specific magical, religious or social functions. <\/span><\/p>\n To explain this epochal change would require volumes, but its most enduringly successful result was the form we call the concerto.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n At first it wasn\u2019t simply one \u2018form\u2019. There were two rival types, in two rival cities. Rome boasted the Concerto Grosso<\/strong><\/a>, in which a team of soloists alternated with a larger ensemble, or orchestra<\/a><\/strong>: principal exemplar Corelli<\/strong><\/a> (1653-1713). <\/span><\/p>\n In Venice, however, the solo concerto, with the classic three-movement form, eventually won the evolutionary battle: principal exemplar Vivaldi<\/a> <\/strong>(1678-1741).<\/span><\/p>\n What were the ingredients of its success? Having a single \u2018star\u2019, bewitching an audience with acrobatic skill, soulful eloquence and stage charisma was always likely to prove a winner.<\/span><\/p>\n But the Vivaldi formula also contains elements that help an audience who would look to formal patterns or some kind of narrative to make sense of art. Crucial is repetition.<\/span><\/p>\n