Largo (pronounced lahr-goh)
(1) Slow; in a broad, dignified style.
(2) A movement in this style in music; performed slowly and broadly.
1675-1685: From the Italian Largo (slow, broad), from the Classical Latin largus (large, abundant). In music, as an adjective it generally means "slow in time" and, as a noun, a movement to be performed in such style. Composers use the modifying adjectives larghet′to to indicate "somewhat slow; not so slow as long; a movement in somewhat slow time & larghis′simo for "extremely slow".
Context matters
In music, largo is an Italian tempo marking. It translates literally as “broadly”, hence the name of Florida’s Key Largo island chain but to a conductor or musician, it means “play at a slower tempo”. In composition, the language of tempo markings is nuanced for while both largo and adagio signify a slowing of pace, they convey different meanings to which composers can also add refinements such as the emotionally manipulative bolt-ons giocoso (merry), mesto (sad) and nobilmente (noble).
Adagio (music performed in a slow, leisurely manner, borrowed circa 1745 from the Italian where the construct was ad (at) + agio (ease), from the Vulgar Latin adiacens, present participle of adiacere (to lie at, to lie near), the noun sense in music to describe "a slow movement" dating from 1784) is used also in Italian traffic management (one of public administration’s more challenging assignments), appearing on Italian road signs to suggest a lower speed but drivers would never see a sign urging largo. Except in musical notation largo means broad, a word of dimension or perspective, the use in music metaphorical as one might speak of the voice of a soprano “darkening” as they age and thus it can be baffling when composer uses largo in its ordinary sense. In Gioachino Rossini's (1792–1868) The Barber of Seville (1816), a famously fast-paced aria is called "Largo al factotum" but this is not an instruction to the conductor but just a title; the translation being “make way (ie provide a broad space) for the servant”. Factotum, known in English since 1556, is from the Medieval Latin factotum (do everything) and is used usually to describe a servant or assistant assigned to general duties. Even in musical notation, the use of largo and adagio wasn’t always consistent among composers. Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712–1778), remembered as the philosopher who loomed over the French revolution, was also a composer and in his 1768 Dictionary of Music insisted largo was the slowest of all tempo markings but for others it lay somewhere between adagio and andante (in musical direction meaning "moderately slow", a 1742 borrowing from the Italian andante, suggesting "walking" present participle of andare (to go), from the Vulgar Latin ambitare, from the Classical Latin ambitus, past participle of ambire (to go round, go about), the construct being amb- (around), from the primitive Indo-European root ambhi- (around) + ire (go), from ei- (to go)). Rousseau's definition is now preferred.
While Rousseau didn’t expand on this, largo does by his era seem to have come to be used to signify an expression of emotional intensity, Ombra mai fù, the opening aria from Georg Friederich Händel's (1685–1759) 1738 opera Serse being such an exemplar it’s known famously as “Handel’s Largo from Xerxes”. A hint of Handel’s intention is his marking on the original score being the diminutive larghetto. Joseph Haydn (1732–1809) restricted largo only to the personal, emotional passages whereas Ludwig van Beethoven (1770–1827) could use it also as a device of controlled tension, a slowing of tempo almost to a pause. Others followed Handel, even if the largo became, after Beethoven, less fashionable, the cor anglais-haunted largo from Anton Dvořák's (1841–1904) 1893 Symphony No. 9 in E minor (From the New World) as illustrative of the technique as any.
Comrade Shostakovich (Dmitri Shostakovich 1906–1975) followed the textbook. Having his own reasons for needing to write something to make people feel rather than think, on its first performance in 1937, the largo in his Symphony No 5 brought tears from the audience. Pleased to have pleased the Kremlin, Shostakovich subsequently drew lachrymosity where he could, both the first movement of Symphony No 6 (1939) and three movements of the Eighth Quartet (1960) claw slowly at the emotions. The motif is familiar from his earlier cello & violin concertos, other symphonies and a piano sonata.
Tangerine Dream, Zeit (1972). Largo in four movements.
Zeit was one of the more starkly uncompromising pieces of the "dark ambient" music European experimentalists would explore for a couple of decades. Four often languid movements, each a side of the two vinyl disks, it was underpinned by the then still novel Moog synthesizer and the jarring interruption of the strings of the Cologne Cello Quarte. Whatever Zeit was, it proved to be either unique or the final evolution of the form, depending on one's view of earlier experiments with the possibilities offered by electronics. Tangerine Dream certainly never pursued the concept but their work impressed film director Bill Friedkin (b 1935) who commissioned them to produce the soundtrack for Sorcerer (1977); at the time, the music was better received than the film although views have changed in the decades since and Sorcerer now enjoys a cult-following. Friedkin later remarked that had he earlier known of the band, he'd have used them for The Exorcist (1973).
Austere and gloomy, Zeit ("time" in German) was interesting experience if listened to in darkness, on headphones; acid helped. Efforts by some to find a connection between this and the implications of inherited guilt on a generation of German youth again dabbling with amoral technologies were never convincing, Ziet just an hour and a quarter of electronica to be enjoyed or endured. There were critics who found both but, as even the unconvinced seemed willing often to concede, in the milieu of the sometimes willfully obscure electronica of the era, the Tangerine Dream crew were fine exponents.
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