Abstract This article analyses the representation of Spanish history in the operas ‘Fernand Cortez’ (1809) and ‘Pélage’ (1814), along with their ambivalent political uses and economic dynamics at the Paris Opéra during the transition from the First Empire to the Bourbon Restoration. It seeks to complement historiographical interpretations that often view these operas primarily as vehicles of Napoleonic or Bourbon propaganda, by examining the artistic careers of their authors – especially the composer Gaspare Spontini (1774–1851) and librettist Etienne de Jouy (1764–1846). A closer look at their personal and professional paths reveals a multi-layered space of symbolic conflict, shaped by disputes over reputation and competition for positions within the Parisian musical milieu. Drawing on archival and press sources, this paper studies the interplay between official political agendas and individual ambitions, considering how the self-serving staging of Spanish medieval and imperial history was incorporated into French narratives of power.

Abstract In 1911, Italy invaded the region now known as Libya, then part of the Ottoman Empire, as part of a larger Italian colonizing foray into northern Africa. Many scholars have pointed out in recent years how intense the sonic environments of war can be, and the Italo-Turkish War of 1911–12 was no exception. Not only was the war itself full of sound and sonic media such as gramophones and telephones, the narration of the war, including most (in)famously that of Futurist author F.T. Marinetti, focused from the outset on the sonic intensities of the conflict. In addition, the war became a site for the cultivation of sonic media: Guglielmo Marconi not only deployed his radio technology for the Italian cause, he personally travelled to Libya to test and refine radio in the unique geographies there. In this article, I consider these Italian-centric narratives of war alongside accounts of the sonic experiences of the Arab and Ottoman Turkish forces in their resistance to the Italian occupation, considering the sonic techniques deployed both for and against Italian colonialism. I focus on three particular sonic techniques of that resistance: first, ‘counterlistening’, or ways of listening that subvert empire’s auralities; second, ululation (mostly by women) on the battlefield and beyond; and third, jihad, especially its sonic articulations as a set of declarations, battle cries, religious chanting, and even poetry. For both sides, sound played a much greater role in the war than just being a by-product of activity; these sonic techniques both shaped the war and were shaped by it, producing new forms of sonic experience that played important roles in constituting the colonial and anticolonial in Libya.

Opera has long served as the 'soundtrack' of modern Italy.The most clamorous example of this is that, in both the popular and scholarly imagination, operatic activity on the nineteenth-century peninsula has been routinely associated with the Risorgimento: the struggle for independence and unity that led to Italy's birth as a nation-state in 1861.For many years, it was widely believed that opera played a pivotal role in fuelling patriotic fervour and discourse, with political 'messages' embedded in librettos, choruses promoting national fellow-feeling, and the famous cry of 'Viva VERDI!' carrying a double meaning. 1 More generally, vocalparticularly operaticsound has been the primary aural marker of Italy and Italianness for well over two centuries.Travel accounts by foreign visitors during the Grand Tour era already emphasized an Italian propensity for singing, a sonic imaginary reinvigorated during the first COVID-19 lockdown, when hundreds of Italians joined virtual choruses of 'Bella ciao' and 'Va pensiero' from their balconies. 2Indeed, while research by musicologists and cultural historians in the last 30 years has effectively debunked the myth that (certain) operatic works and composers were central to Italy's mid-nineteenth-century national awakening, the notion of an Italy and an Italian people united by voice remains enduringly powerful. 3 An unexpected proponent of this trope in the 1970s was Murray Schafer, the Canadian composer and environmentalist who is now regarded as a foundational figure in sound studies.In a study of the northern Italian agricultural village of Cembra, Schafer described not only the local soundscape but also the broader soundscape of the entire peninsula as 'a vocal soundscape'.He explained that 'voices come from all directions, from inside and outside, from men, women, children, birds and animals'. 4Schafer's goal was to document Cembra's sonic environment as faithfully as possible, hoping to preserve it from the erasure caused by modernization; he used recording equipment to capture some sounds and preserved others through written descriptions.Yet his focus throughout remained on the

Abstract The four Piano Sonatas by W. A. Mozart with freely composed additional accompaniment for a Second Piano by Edvard Grieg (EG 113) were first published in 1879–80 but were not heard by English concertgoers until 5 March 1890, when both Agathe Backer-Grøndahl and Anton Hartvigson opened separate recitals in London with Grieg's version of the Fantasy in C minor K475, the latter following it with the Sonata in F major K533/494. This coincidence is noteworthy not only because Grieg's additions appeared to flaunt the prevailing expectation of fidelity to classical works, but also because Mozart's solo keyboard music was rarely included in professional recitals. Focusing on Backer-Grøndahl and Hartvigson's concerts, this article considers Grieg's additions not merely as ‘arrangements’ but also as a performance practice subject to a range of interpretations by recitalists and different sections of the audience. The article begins by placing the transformation of the additions from teaching aids into concert repertoire in the context of similar supplements to classic works and concurrent attitudes to Mozart's piano music. The next section examines the mixed reception of Backer-Grøndahl and Hartvigson's recitals, situating this within contemporary debates about the role of fidelity in modern performances of historic works and its relationship with dominant conceptions of musical taste. While critics condemned the use of Grieg's additions, several disdainfully noted that they were well received by the rest of the audience. The final section attempts to account for this discrepancy by considering the widespread perception of Grieg's additions as Norwegian ‘national music’, a popular genre of exoticist parlour music that critics disparagingly associated with a mass audience of young, female players and considered inferior to ‘international’ classics. The article concludes by reflecting on how these factors might have informed Backer-Grøndahl's decision to perform Mozart's music with Grieg's additions.

Musical sources from the nineteenth century in Argentina are very scarce. The first challenge, therefore, is to locate these materials across multiple repositories. In the last 15 years, certain state policies have been introduced to unify access to information in digital and non-digital archives. However, the country's economic instability, successive changes of government and the discontinuity of public policies in reference to cultural and educational programmes continue to impede a consistent systematization of collections and catalogues of these repositories. Additionally, it is also necessary to consult other repositories – both public collections, managed by provinces rather than the national government, and private ones that may offer online resources such as catalogues, transcriptions or digitized materials. Much of the musical production in the first half of the nineteenth century occurred within religious contexts, which means that a large part of these sources is located in ecclesiastical repositories that are very difficult to access. Many lack websites, the extent of their holdings remains unknown, and in cases where catalogues do exist, they are often not digitized.

In an enticing article for the Neue Zeitschrift für Musik, Hans von Bülow suggested that Joseph Joachim would be well suited to achieve a reform of violin playing in the 1850s, which would effectively close the door behind Virtuosentum. The Golden Age of virtuosity had been on its way out for several years, impacting also violin performance. And yet, violin programming in the musical metropolises London and Paris was slow to adapt. As recent work on Joachim's virtuoso years has shown, his repertoire during the 1840s encompassed far more than German classics. It accommodated plenty of virtuoso music by H.W. Ernst, de Bériot, Ferdinand David, and Vieuxtemps, as well as his own substantial, virtuoso compositions, composed for his London tours in the 1840s. As this article argues, Joachim's programming did not change overnight: the shift from performing and composing virtuoso pieces to identifying himself with lofty and serious works happened gradually. One vehicle through which Joachim transformed the state of ‘violin playing’ of the 1840s was the violin romance. Joachim, who spent three months in Paris in early 1850, used the aesthetic of the romance to transform not only the state of violin playing but also the violin romance itself. Two simple romances he composed in 1850 were followed by a third romance in 1857. The third was, in effect, a Bravourstück in disguise, exhibiting none of the older virtuoso tricks such as flying bow strokes that had fallen out of favour. Rather, in Joachim's third romance, the conspicuous, ‘1840s’ virtuosity merged into ‘shape-oriented virtuosity’, a term used in a 1854 review of Joachim's playing. Many later nineteenth-century composers of violin romances from Bruch to Sibelius adopted Joachim's romance model, negotiating between melodic simplicity and violinistic demand, resulting in lyrical pieces in which virtuosity was an undercurrent, hidden but present.

Most of his research has concentrated on renaissance music and musicians, but he