W. A. Mozart: Overture to Idomeneo, rè di Creta, K. 366
Born in 1756, Austrian composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart remains one of the most universally regarded and recognised composers in Western classical music history. Fluent in all mediums of composition – from operas and symphonies to chamber music – Mozart essentially defined Classicism through his elegant style, imaginative, melodic ingenuity and forward-thinking harmonies.
Premiered in January 29, 1781, at the Cuvilliés Theatre in Germany, Idomeneo focuses on the Greek king of Crete and his return to the island after the Trojan War. Based on a French libretto by Antoine Dachet and adapted by Giambattista Varesco into Italian, the opera received its dress rehearsal two days prior to its premiere – coincidentally on Mozart’s 25th birthday. Tackling themes of a warrior’s time after war and the tale of a refugee fleeing her home due to her brother’s matricide veiled as human sacrifice, Dachet’s original text further discusses a generation’s allegiance to superstition and a newer set of beliefs guided by love. The three-act opera further delves into the enslavement of prisoners of war, cosmic Greeks versus mortals, as well as the human emotions that bind everyone on an empathetic level. Originally, Dachet’s text ends in darkness, with Idomeneo going insane and sacrificing his son; however, Mozart chose to conclude the opera with triumph, upholding and championing both love and reason.
Correspondence between Mozart and his father during this time reveal Mozart’s hyper attention to detail, addressing his keen interest in singers not just singing but acting their roles. The young composer even reigned in Varesco’s sometimes wandering text with brevity and conciseness, “The longer [the voice] goes on, the more the audience will become aware that there’s nothing real about it. If the speech of the Ghost in Hamlet were not quite so long, it would be much more effective,” the composer writes.
In the opera’s overture, both Mozart’s tidy and effective writing (described as “boldly truncated”) as well as the opera’s conflicts – framed always with a tone of morality and integrity – opens with noble and solemn gestures. Followed by a series of haunting and probing lines, the brass fanfare returns quickly and offers a series of flourishing figures in the violins, at once graceful and delicate. With an instantaneous turn to luscious sensuousness, the evocation of love and optimism is immediately captured. After more back and forth offerings of hope and of conflict and grief, the overture concludes quietly with dignity and peaceful fulfilment.
W. A. Mozart: Symphony No. 40 in G Minor, K. 550
Mozart composed symphonies Nos. 39, 40, and 41 all within mere months (and perhaps even weeks) of each other in the summer of 1788. Since no commission records exist, it is postured by most that Mozart simply wrote these three symphonies for his own amusement, contentment and scholarship. However, given the complexity and scope of these heavy-hitting masterpieces, it is almost unimaginable to envisage that Mozart, bound by his rather dire financial hardship at the time, composed these works for no financial reward whatsoever.
The opening movement of Symphony No. 40, Molto allegro, begins with urgent and soft rumbling accompaniment beneath a passionate melody in the violins. The Romantic composer Robert Schumann even described the work as “full of Hellenic grace”, despite Mozart’s brilliant ability to break such finesse and elegance with raucous and agitated punctuations.
Fleeting and delicate gestures throughout instrumental sections remain typically Mozartian. A sudden turn to a violent and much darker key at the centre of the movement, still framed by variations of the opening melody, at once fragmented and transformed, unveil Mozart’s ability to create dramatic tension throughout, often without any foreshadowing. The composer manages to capture at once exaltation as well angst, somehow only using mainly the opening melody as its source material, concluding with angst and breathless drama.
The Andante endeavours a sombre, more sedate and lyrical sound world, with an opening tune almost fragile if not idyllic and bolstered by the swaying, repeated notes in the violas that remain a near constant throughout this movement. The gentle entrance of the winds further defines a delicacy with their affable interplay with the strings. Not without its moodiness, Mozart again manages to capture a clever cohesion between light and bright versus dusky torment, ending the movement with agile poise and ease.
The ensuing Menuetto. Allegretto, is emboldened with swagger but remains imbued with a sense of urgency and dark bluster. Mozart’s heavily accented main theme, at once strutting yet full of brusqueness, departs from the elegance of this particular social dance form that preceded it for generations. The central Trio section, both sunny and tranquil, proffers momentary, lyrical relief before the movement returns to the driving heaviness of the opening theme.
The finale, Allegro assai, begins with a series of ascending notes with hushed insistence, punctuated by loud outbursts. Rushing and fleeting notes are at once explosive, energetic and almost aggressive. A brief second theme rises, lyrical and good natured, but is immediately interrupted by a turbulent and restless development of the main theme. Mozart’s complex series of twists and turns, once again briefly interrupted by the good-natured second theme, somehow manages to invoke further storminess and thunderous agitation before concluding abruptly with wildness and tempest.
L. v. Beethoven: Piano Concerto No. 4 in G Major, op. 58
Born in 1770 in Germany, Ludwig van Beethoven remains one of the monumental figures in the history of Western Classical music. Regarded for his influential and forward-thinking compositions like his symphonies, string quartets and piano sonatas, Beethoven never shied away from pushing the boundaries and accepted norms of his art. In 1792, a young Beethoven arrived in Vienna and quickly established himself as the city’s premiere pianist, following in the footsteps of Mozart who had passed away a year prior. Much like Mozart, Beethoven’s talent on the piano was quickly embraced by the Viennese audience.
Composed sometime between 1805 and 1806, Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 4 was premiered in December of 1808, with the composer as soloist in Vienna. The extensive and ambitious concert also featured Beethoven’s Symphony Nos. 5 and 6, movements from his Mass, his Choral Fantasy, a solo piano work, and even a concert aria. A former music director to the King of Prussia writes, “There we continued, in the bitterest cold, too, from half past six to half past ten, and experienced the truth that one can easily have too much of a good thing – and still more of a loud”.
This concerto benefits from the innovations of the piano during this period, with three added upper notes that are definitely utilised by Beethoven in this work. An additional string for each note and a new pedal system further offered the pianist a greater palette for colouristic exploration. Defying convention, the Allegro moderato movement begins gently, with just the soloist playing the main theme, before fading away for the orchestra to take over. The plaintive gesture segues into a second motif in the minor mode, and Beethoven manages to deftly and seamlessly squeeze in yet another musical theme before the soloist returns. Launching into a series of repeated notes, filled with gleaming flourish and contained poise, soloist and orchestra finally come together to explore a series of modified and reshaped themes first introduced by the composer. Either together or in careful conversation with each other, the overall tranquil and affable movement culminates in a featured cadenza for the soloist, allowing for further development of these musical motifs showing off technical prowess, before concluding with a short coda with everyone all together to the end.
The Andante con moto pays further witness to the discourse between soloist and orchestra that Beethoven had carefully crafted. The grim orchestral introduction is quickly dispelled by the piano’s lyricism, at once imbued with tenderness, unmatched introversion and deep probing. The German pianist Wilhelm Kempff writes about this movement – arguably boasting Beethoven at his most tender and revealing the composer at his most vulnerable: “On the two pages of full score which this movement occupies, there are few notes. Instead there are many rests, which sit like black, sinister birds on the lines of the music, signs signifying a silence which takes the breath away”.
The final Rondo emerges right away with its rhythmic and fleeting tune. After a few short episodes of back and forth between soloist and orchestra filled with merriment, the movement fully embraces bravura and almost a martial exuberance. Beethoven moulds, his writing with contrasting episodes of brilliance and nuanced grace; the main theme returns time and time yet again with military resiliency only to be interrupted by the soloist, redirecting the mood to yet another world full of daydreams. These surprise corners and twists only concede once again Beethoven’s compositional capacity and unbridled imagination. Concluding with grace and elegant dignity, undoubtedly this is Beethoven showing the world his vision of inventive restraint and his own sense of fantasy and wonder.
By Jules Lai