Overture Magazine - 2015-2016 Season January-February 2016 | Page 31

program notes {
practices of his day, creating a richer and
more flexible dialogue between orchestra and soloist that would become the
hallmark of his later concertos. It also
contains the first of his sublime tragic slow
movements. And since Mozart was also the
performer, he crammed the concerto with
virtuosic passages to display his fleet and
flexible fingers for the honored guest.
First movement: Mozart breaks the
concerto norms of his period in the first
measures when the pianist immediately
answers the orchestra’s fanfare motive.
But then the soloist bows out while the
orchestra presents a bright-spirited introduction with a gracious pair of ascending
lyrical themes for a second subject. Before
the orchestra can finish, the impatient soloist has already launched his own exposition
with a long trill.
As became Mozart’s custom, the eventual recapitulation of the opening section
is no mere reprise. Listen for a wonderful moment when the principal horn
rather than the soloist sings the gracious
second-subject melody.
In C Minor, for Mozart a key for revealing deep feelings, the andantino second
movement is the heart of the work. The
piano’s long cantabile phrases are adorned
with trills and other embellishments, but
here they are deeply expressive rather than
merely decorative. Piano and orchestral
parts interweave marvelously; late in the
movement, listen for a lovely passage in
which the first violins echo the piano’s
sighing phrases.
We move out of the shadows for the
very fast rondo finale. Indeed, the rondo
theme, which keeps returning like a
refrain, has a manic, Keystone-Copschase feeling to it, as Mozart shows Mlle.
Jeunehomme how fast his fingers can fly.
In the middle comes almost a movement
within a movement as Mozart switches
to a slower tempo and 3/4 time for an
elegant minuet.
Symphony No. 4 in D Minor, opus 120

Robert Schumann

Born in Zwickau, Germany, June 8, 1810;
died in Endenich, near Bonn, Germany,
July 29, 1856

The year 1841 was perhaps the happiest and most productive of Robert
Schumann’s troubled life. After he had
finally married his adored Clara, despite
her father’s opposition, his creative powers
were in full flood, and he chose to devote
them to the orchestra. The impetus was
twofold. In a letter written in 1839, Clara
had gently prodded him: “Dear Robert,
don’t take it amiss i