Spohr is still complete master of his violin, and conducted his 'Seasons' with great precision. The invention in this work is weak, but the treatment and instrumentation are as artistic as ever. The 'Coming of Spring' has a lovely melody, but art and counterpoint outweigh the poetic vein. The music drags on slowly like a cart through deep sand, one wheel creaking and groaning; the 'Autumn' has its share of brightness, and the Rheinlied is cleverly interwoven in the movement. The contrapuntal links of the different subjects interest the thoughtful artist, but fail to elevate him.