{ Program Notes
given master classes throughout the
U.S. and in Europe.
Anthony McGill last appeared with
the BSO in March 2004, performing
Copland’s Clarinet Concerto, with Lara
Webber conducting.
About the concert:
Symphony No. 29 in A Major, K. 201
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Born in Salzburg, Austria, January 27, 1756;
died in Vienna, December 5, 1791
With his Symphony in A Major — and
some would say, to a lesser extent, five
months earlier with his tempestuous
Symphony No. 25 in G Minor — Mozart
became a fully mature creator, speaking
with a voice unlike any of the composers
who had come before him. Perhaps the
summer and early fall of 1773 in Vienna,
where Mozart had been exposed to much
new music including quartets by Haydn,
spurred this final maturation.
In Symphony No. 29, we hear conventions Mozart had used before: a muted
slow movement of reticent courtly style, a
crisply energetic minuet, a dashing hunting finale. But somehow these conventions
have been elevated to something greater,
more complex and subtler in tone. Two of
the miracles of this enchanting work are
its perfect Classical balance between grace
and energy, and Mozart’s ability to draw
the maximum of color and expression out
of a very small orchestra composed of a
few strings and pairs of oboes and horns.
Years later when he moved on to Vienna,
Mozart still recognized the quality of this
symphony and asked his father to send
him the score for performance at his
Viennese Akademie concerts.
The equilibrium between lyrical grace
and vigorous energy is best heard in the
sonata-form first movement. Unsual for
this period, Mozart begins his symphony
very softly, but with intensity seething
underneath in the form of a dramatic
octave plunge to launch the principal
theme and harmonic unrest. A series of
charming melodic ideas form the second
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subject, culminating in a lovely imitative
duet between first and second violins.
The middle development section packs the
maximum of excitement in the minimum
of space: beginning with fast scales chasing
each other around the string parts and
ending with a tenderly reflective passage.
Movement two is a superb example of
how much color and atmosphere Mozart
can draw from his little band. This is a very
hushed and refined movement using muted
strings, courtly double-dotted rhythms,
exquisite ornamental figures, and chromatically altered notes for rich harmonic color.
Yet while it has the manners of rococo
court music, it also has a sadness, a depth of
feeling that is pure Mozart. The plangent
tones of the woodwind quartet contribute
to this effect. Only for the last phrase of
this misty music do the strings remove their
mutes, letting the sunshine through.
Again, dotted rhythms dominate the
third-movement minuet, but they have
a brusque energy here and a touch of
impudence and aggression. This is slightly
tempered by a trio section in which the
dotted rhythms are mostly smoothed away.
Here is an early example of Mozart’s
rebellious spirit sabotaging convention.
Energy gallops over grace in the Allegro
con spirito finale in the style of the hunting finales so popular in Mozart’s day. But
this one has a verve, an attention to detail,
and a dramatic development section that
lofts it above its mates. As in the first
movement, its principal theme opens with
a decisive octave plunge. Listen for the
baying of the dogs in the grace-note-accented second theme. Each section of the
sonata form is delineated by a quick, rising
violin scale at its close. Horn calls and one
last rising scale signal the end of Mozart’s
first symphonic masterpiece.
Instrumentation: Two oboes, two horns
and strings.
Clarinet Concerto in A Major,
K. 622
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Mozart’s last year was one of his most
prolific composing periods—almost as if
he knew he was racing against the clock. By
that time, the clarinet, with its fascinating
chameleon character, had become probably
his favorite instrument— certainly his
favorite wind instrument. It was quite a
newcomer in 1791, having only been introduced into orchestras around 1770.
One of its finest players was Anton
Stadler, whom Mozart had met in 1784
and subsequently befriended. Stadler
seems to have been a rather shady
character, and Mozart’s wife and family
disapproved of him, especially when he
borrowed a considerable sum of money
from the composer who was himself
deep in debt. But Mozart liked Stadler’s
lighthearted nature and greatly admired
his artistry. For Stadler he composed his
best-loved chamber work, the Clarinet
Quintet, as well as the Clarinet Concerto.
It was quite a newcomer
in 1791, having only been
introduced into orchestras
around 1770.
Stadler loved the clarinet’s low register
and designed a slightly longer version,
known as the basset clarinet, which added
two more pitches on the bottom. And so
Mozart wrote his concerto for this modified clarinet, giving much emphasis to its
lower range. Throughout, he showed his
great love and thorough understanding of
the instrument’s special qualities: its singing
ability and sparkling agility, its capacity to
move easily between comedy and tragedy.
However, sometime after his death, his
original score was lost. The concerto we
hear today is a version Mozart’s publisher
edited so it could be played by clarinets
without Stadler’s low extension.
A mood of gracious lyricism prevails
in the first movement. Mozart chose a
softer-toned orchestral ensemble — gentle
flutes instead of the more penetrating
oboes, no brass except for two horns —
to set his soloist in high relief. Graceful,
flowing melodies abound, exploiting the
clarinet’s rich singing tone. But soon after
its entrance, the clarinet flies free of the