Respighi: Feste romane, P. 157: IV. La Befana

On a literal level, "La Befana" depicts the lively, carnivalesque chaos of Rome's Piazza Navona on the eve of the Epiphany holiday. The movement captures a vivid slice of Italian folklife, layering realistic city sounds such as plastic toy trumpets, street hawkers, mechanical fairground organs, and tipsy partygoers. However, beneath this surface-level recreation of a street fair lies a deeper, highly layered symbolic meaning.

As the explosive finale of both Feste romane and Respighi's entire Roman Trilogy, the movement serves as an ultimate celebration of the unyielding, vibrant spirit of the Roman people across history. While the previous movements of the suite took the listener through the terrifying imperial spectacles of the ancient Coliseum (Circenses), the heavy spiritual solemnity of the medieval Catholic pilgrims (Il Giubileo), and the bucolic, romantic autumn harvests of the Renaissance-era Castelli Romani (L'Ottobrata), "La Befana" brings the listener squarely into the living, breathing, democratic present.

The central thematic message of the piece is encapsulated in the folk stornello melody, "Lassatece passà, semo Romani!" ("Let us pass, we are Romans!"). By utilizing this proud, defiant tune, Respighi argues that the true, enduring soul of the "Eternal City" does not reside in cold marble ruins, imperial conquest, or church dogmas. Instead, it is preserved in the common folk's irrepressible capacity for joy, communal celebration, humor, and self-assertion. The movement's dizzying, almost overwhelming sonic collage suggests that despite centuries of war, tyranny, religious shifts, and modernization, the core identity of the Roman people remains fiercely undefeated, united in their love of life, music, and community.

The festive atmosphere of a crisp January night descends upon Rome's historic Piazza Navona as the city gathers to celebrate the Eve of Epiphany, the night of La Befana. Above the roar of the bustling, dense crowd, a shrill, petulant chorus of toy trumpets rings out, led by the sharp, piercing timbre of the piccolo clarinet, piercing the cold winter air. People from all walks of life stream into the grand square, their laughter and overlapping chatter creating a dense, buzzing sea of noise. Street vendors and barkers shout from their wooden booths, their booming voices represented by the bright, commanding fanfares of the brass. Suddenly, a traditional saltarello dance erupts among the revelers, driven by rapid, whirling string passages and the frantic tapping of tambourines, drawing more and more people into its dizzying vortex of motion.

Amidst the swirling dancers, a mechanical barrel organ begins to churn out a popular, dizzying waltz melody from a nearby fairground tent, its repetitive, slightly out-of-tune gears spinning alongside the organic chaos of the square. The scent of roasted chestnuts and sweet wine hangs heavy in the air, and soon, a staggeringly drunk reveler stumbles through the crowd. His erratic, slurred singing is painted by a solo tenor trombone, executing humorous glissandos and stumbling syncopations that hilariously mimic his tipsy, unsteady gait.

Yet, beneath this wild comedy, a deeper, fiercely proud spirit emerges. The crowd begins to unite, singing the defiant, soaring notes of the traditional Roman stornello: "Lassatece passà, semo Romani!" ("Let us pass, we are Romans!"). This powerful, swelling anthem rises majestically from the lower brass and woodwinds, a grand, swaggering statement of identity and historic pride. The entire piazza becomes a single, pulsing organism as the saltarello, the barrel organ, the shouting barkers, and the proud stornello clash in a spectacular, polytonal tapestry of sound. In a final, ecstatic surge of energy, the tempo accelerates to a breathless, dizzying frenzy, concluding the festival with a series of shattering, explosive orchestral chords that echo off the baroque facades of the square.

Ottorino Respighi composed Feste romane between 1926 and 1928, completing the score in October 1928 during his stays in Capri and Rome. At the time, Respighi was a well-established figure in Italian musical life, serving as a professor of composition at the prestigious Conservatory of Santa Cecilia in Rome. Having previously achieved immense international success with Fontane di Roma (1916) and Pini di Roma (1924), Respighi sought to complete his Roman Trilogy with a work of unprecedented scale, technical difficulty, and orchestral color.

The fourth movement, "La Befana," was conceived as the grand, explosive climax of the entire cycle. Respighi drew inspiration directly from his personal observations of the annual Epiphany festival held in the historic Piazza Navona, a celebration deeply cherished by the local Roman populace. To bring this scene to life, Respighi expanded the traditional symphonic orchestra to gargantuan proportions, integrating a massive battery of percussion, an organ, a mandolin, and a piano played four-hands.

The completed work was dedicated to the legendary conductor Arturo Toscanini, who was one of Respighi's most passionate champions. Toscanini led the world premiere of Feste romane with the New York Philharmonic Orchestra at Carnegie Hall on February 21, 1929. The performance was a monumental success, receiving a thunderous ovation. Interestingly, Respighi famously remarked to his wife, Elsa, that in "La Befana" he had incorporated the "maximum of orchestral sonority and colour" possible, believing he had pushed the modern orchestra to its absolute physical limits. Consequently, after this piece, Respighi largely abandoned writing such colossal symphonic works, turning his focus toward smaller chamber and neo-classical ensembles.

Respighi's orchestration in "La Befana" is heavily laden with symbolic musical metaphors, transforming literal street noises into allegorical representations of human behavior and cultural identity:

• The Piccolo Clarinet: Playing in its highest, most piercing register, it symbolizes the cheap, shrill plastic or tin toy trumpets traditionally bought for children at the Epiphany fair. This represents the innocent, playful, and childlike joy of the festival, cutting through the complex adult noise of the square.
• The Solo Tenor Trombone: Utilizing slurred phrasing, wide syncopations, and comical glissandos, the trombone acts as a hilarious musical caricature of a staggeringly drunk partygoer. This symbolizes the earthly, unrefined, and humorous aspects of humanity, celebrating the unvarnished reality of folk culture.
• The Mechanical Barrel Organ (The Waltz): Churning out a rigid, cyclic waltz melody, the barrel organ symbolizes the encroaching mechanical entertainment of the modern era. However, rather than portraying it as cold or hostile, Respighi absorbs it into the chaotic acoustic fabric, symbolizing the folk culture's ability to adapt and incorporate modern elements.
• The Stornello Tune ("Lassatece passà, semo Romani!"): This traditional Roman folk song is a powerful metaphor for collective pride, resilience, and cultural defiance. Its broad, sweeping, and swaggering presentation represents the unyielding core of the Roman identity.
• The Piazza Navona itself: Historically built over the ruins of the ancient Roman Stadium of Domitian, the setting of the festival acts as a profound metaphor. The transformation of a space once dedicated to imperial power and blood into a joyous, democratic space for public celebration symbolizes the ultimate triumph of life, joy, and the common people over imperial tyranny and historical ruin.

The predominant emotional tone of "La Befana" is one of exuberant, carnivalesque joy, electric excitement, and fierce, triumphant pride. It acts as a deliberate and necessary emotional release after the heavy, dark, and exhausting movements that precede it in the suite.

The movement carefully constructs a multi-layered emotional landscape:

• It begins with a feeling of frantic disorientation, capturing the sheer sensory overload and chaotic buzz of a massive public gathering.
• This quickly transitions into a sense of playfulness and earthy humor, particularly during the clumsy trombone solo representing the drunkard, which invites the listener to laugh and participate in the human comedy.
• As the movement progresses, the emotion shifts from individual amusement to a profound, collective feeling of national and cultural pride, engineered through the sweeping, heroic statement of the traditional stornello.
• The final section is an escalating spiral of ecstatic frenzy. Through a relentless accelerando and crescendo, Respighi whipped the orchestra into a state of sheer acoustic euphoria, ending the work with an explosive, life-affirming triumph that celebrates the eternal resilience of humanity.

While Feste romane is historically programmed less frequently than its sister pieces, Fontane di Roma and Pini di Roma, due to its extreme performance difficulty, "La Befana" remains celebrated as one of the ultimate display pieces of 20th-century orchestral writing:

• Orchestral Showpiece: The movement is universally regarded as a supreme test of an orchestra's virtuosity and a conductor's ability to maintain clarity amidst a massive, polytonal acoustic texture. Legendary recordings by conductors like Arturo Toscanini, Leonard Bernstein, Riccardo Muti, and Eugene Ormandy have cemented its status as a critical masterpiece of orchestration.
• Cinematic Legacy: Respighi's highly descriptive, brass-heavy, and chaotic sound design in this movement laid the musical foundations for modern Hollywood film scoring. Composers of epic, bustling, or action-heavy film music—most notably John Williams—have drawn direct inspiration from the thrilling, cinematic textures of Respighi's Roman works.
• Cultural Representation: Within Italy, and Rome in particular, the integration of the traditional stornello and the representation of the Piazza Navona festival has made the piece a beloved symbol of Roman civic pride and cultural heritage, frequently broadcast during national holidays and cultural celebrations.

The rhythmic structure of "La Befana" is exceptionally complex, mimicking the unpredictable, kinetic energy of a swirling crowd. As an instrumental work, the "rhythm of the words" is translated directly into the physical pacing and dancing meters of the music:

• The Frantic Vivo and Vivacissimo: The movement opens with a rapid, driving tempo that captures the immediate sensory overload of entering a bustling street fair. The rhythm is highly syncopated and unstable, representing the unpredictable movement of individuals pushing through a crowd.
• The Saltarello Dance Meter: A major structural pillar of the movement is the traditional Italian saltarello, a fast, hopping folk dance in triple meter (3/4 or 6/8). Respighi uses this driving, spinning rhythm to pull the disparate elements of the crowd together, creating a unified momentum.
• The Tempo pesante di Valzer (Heavy Waltz): To depict the drunken festivalgoer, Respighi shifts the music into a sluggish, heavy 3/4 waltz rhythm. This rhythmic drag acts as a comical contrast to the rapid saltarello, brilliantly mimicking the clumsy, swaying steps of a tipsy dancer.
• Polyrhythmic Layering: At the climax of the movement, Respighi combines the driving saltarello, the cyclical barrel organ waltz, and the broad, proud duple-meter march of the stornello simultaneously. This complex cross-rhythm creates a spectacular sensation of organized chaos, which finally accelerates into a breathless, adrenaline-fueled Prestissimo finish.

In "La Befana," Respighi employs a stunning array of innovative musical and literary stylistic techniques to construct his vibrant soundscape:

• Extreme and Unusual Orchestration: Respighi maximizes orchestral color by integrating a vast and unconventional array of instruments. These include the rarely used piccolo clarinet in D (or E-flat) for its acidic register, a mandolin, a piano (four-hands), a grand organ, and a massive percussion section featuring a raganella (ratchet), sleigh bells, and tavolette (woodblocks) to mimic the clattering street toys.
• Polytonality and Polyrhythm: Taking inspiration from French Impressionism and Igor Stravinsky’s Petrushka, Respighi simultaneously layers multiple distinct melodic lines written in different keys and rhythmic meters. This creates a realistic, three-dimensional acoustic illusion of a crowded market, where different sounds compete for the listener's attention.
• Cinematic Sound Design: The movement is structured almost like a modern film score. Respighi uses dynamic panning and abrupt volume shifts (from quiet, isolated solos to deafening, full-orchestra tuttis) to create a sense of spatial movement, as if a camera is sweeping through different parts of the crowded piazza.
• Grotesque Caricature: The use of trombone glissandos, extreme registers in the woodwinds, and sudden, jarring accents serves as a musical equivalent to caricature drawing, exaggerating the physical quirks of the festival's characters for humorous effect.

What does 'La Befana' mean in Respighi's Roman Festivals?

La Befana refers to the Epiphany holiday celebrated in Italy on January 5-6 [1.1.2]. In folklore, La Befana is a friendly witch who brings gifts. In his symphonic poem Feste romane, Respighi uses 'La Befana' to depict the boisterous, chaotic, and joyous street festival traditionally held on this night in Rome's Piazza Navona, capturing the music, laughter, toys, and dances of the crowd.

How does Respighi portray a drunkard in the movement La Befana?

Respighi brilliantly portrays a drunken festivalgoer using a solo tenor trombone. The trombone executes humorous glissandis (sliding notes), erratic syncopations, and sluggish phrasing over a heavy, slow waltz rhythm (Tempo pesante di Valzer). This musical caricature perfectly mimics the unsteady, staggering gait and slurred singing of someone tipsy on Roman wine.

What is the folk song used in Respighi's La Befana?

Respighi incorporates the traditional Roman folk stornello titled 'Lassatece passà, semo Romani!' (meaning 'Let us pass, we are Romans!'). This proud and defiant melody rises through the woodwinds and brass, growing into a massive, triumphant chorale. It serves as a powerful symbol of the unconquerable spirit, resilience, and civic pride of the common Roman people.

Who conducted the premiere of Feste romane and when?

The world premiere of Respighi's Feste romane was conducted by the legendary Arturo Toscanini, a close friend and champion of the composer. It took place at Carnegie Hall in New York City on February 21, 1929, performed by the New York Philharmonic. The performance was a monumental success, earning a spectacular reception from both critics and the audience.

Why is Feste romane less frequently performed than Pines of Rome?

Feste romane is the longest and by far the most technically demanding work in Respighi's Roman Trilogy. It requires an exceptionally large orchestra, a massive battery of rare percussion, and extreme virtuosity from every player, particularly in the brass section. Due to these gargantuan requirements and the sheer difficulty of maintaining acoustic balance, it is programmed less often.