Masterpieces in Minor Keys
Carmelo Giudice
- Catalogue number
- 311
There exist a number of stereotypes surrounding the figure of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, and many of them have penetrated popular culture. Among the most difficult stereotypes to refute are the ideas of Mozart as the eternal child, Mozart as jester (this stereotype is unfortunately reinforced by the caricature of Mozart in the award-winning film Amadeus), Mozart as a composer who wrote effortlessly. As with all myths, there is a kernel of truth in these images; but they are very partial, limited perspectives on a versatile genius, whose personality was complex, whose character was sometimes contradictory, whose soul could encompass the sublime and the crude, the mystical and Hanswurst-like comedy, freemasonry and Catholicism.
Mozart's oeuvre undoubtedly includes works such as Ein Musikalischer Spass or the duet of the two Papagenos, but there is much more to it. If many people are familiar with the lightness of Eine kleine Nachtmusik or the comic energy of Non più andrai, and others know the Requiem only because of the dark legend surrounding it (which undermines the posthumous reputation of poor Salieri), there is still much more to discover. The Requiem, like the darkest episodes of Don Giovanni, speaks to a part of Mozart's spirit, soul, sensitivity and experience; and it would be entirely inappropriate to forget it or to regard it as an incidental outburst.
Mozart knew that the human soul has many dark corners; that there are mysterious areas that can be the gateway to the heights of sublimity and mysticism, but can also reveal unknown and dangerous lands. Mozart was a child of the Enlightenment, but was a true artist and a true human being, who knew all too well that rationality alone cannot explain everything about mankind. He certainly loved well-proportioned works, well-balanced phrases, cheerful or funny moods; but some of his masterworks are bold explorations of grief, melancholy and tragedy. This Da Vinci Classics album takes listeners on such paths and invites them to look into the depths of darkness and sublimity.
The artist, Carmelo Giudice, has meticulously researched the original versions of the pieces, in particular through careful analysis of the autographs (where available); the following notes weave his own annotations with commentaries by the author of these liner notes.
The sonata in A minor was composed in Paris in the summer of 1778, shortly after the death of Mozart's mother. The manuscript went through a series of precarious circumstances before being acquired by the Pierpont Morgan Library in New York. It was later published in facsimile by Schott/Universal Edition.
The trip to Paris was one of Mozart's first 'adventures' as a young man – it was the very first time he travelled without his father. It is all too easy to see in the minor key of this sonata an echo of his grief for his beloved mother. It is also very common to interpret the pointed opening rhythm as a military march. Instead, it is better understood as an opera seria scene. The opening rhythm resembles a war cry, but is much closer to a declamato song; it is the musical framing of a settenario line, one of the favourite meters of Italian poesia per musica, of librettos such as composed by Metastasio and others. Similarly, the long sequences of sixteenth notes are not 'merely' virtuosic or brilliant passages, but rather expressions of a general belief from that time. It linked virtuosity with virtue: the great characters from Italian opera seria – such as gods, goddesses, heroes and the like – expressed their sublime feelings through pearlescent chains of vocals, whose impenetrable difficulty corresponded to their unearthly, superhuman status.
The second movement has an even more openly operatic character, with its solemn – and at the same time tender – gestures; it alternates majestic openings with timid nuances, and here too it is always possible to underscore the melodic lines with Italian verses, with their regular patterns and their sweet accentuation. Written in sonata form (which in itself is an unusual feature for a slow movement), it has yet another unique aspect: it encompasses a section with a totally different mood and style, very Sturm und Drang, and possibly a reflection of Mozart's shock at the loss of his mother.
The closing Presto, in turn, has a thematic structure that is closely modeled and shaped after the structures of opera librettos – in this case ottonario verses: just as in Dove sono i bei momenti, one of the most beautiful arias of the Countess in the later Nozze di Figaro (but also L'ho perduta, me meschina, the sobbing aria of the child Barbarina).
Opera is also embedded in the Fantasia in D minor, KV 385g (397). Its manuscript is lost. The main sources are a first posthumous printed edition from 1804, which presents the work in an unfinished state (broken off at bar 97), and a later edition published by Breitkopf in 1806, which contains the same piece with ten additional measures, probably completed by August Eberhard Müller.
The piece opens with a dark evocation of low arpeggios in D minor – just like the Requiem and Don Giovanni, but also like one of the two piano concertos in minor, namely the beautiful and sublime KV 466. From this and upon this, the main theme emerges. It is a sighing melody, this time in novenario verses. True sighs ("sospiri") accentuate the melody, which is further fragmented by virtuosic passages (whose meaning again explores the nexus between virtuosity and virtue) and by threatening repetitions of notes. It is not far-fetched to imagine a foreboding of the terrifying appearance of the Commendatore; it is almost a Mozartian version of the motif of fate, destiny or downfall that occurs in many of Beethoven's works. The repetition of the main theme leads to its 'death' – a death preceded by some touching, moving last breaths. The 'resurrection' of the work is the closing Allegretto (although we cannot be certain whether Mozart intended this movement as the last of the unfinished work). Here – as Paul Badura-Skoda liked to tell his students – we catch a glimpse of heaven, of paradise; a paradise that, in Mozart's eyes, is full of childlike joy (and here the stereotype of Mozart as the eternal child emerges, but perhaps not entirely without merit).
The other sonata in minor follows, namely KV 457 in C minor. This sonata, composed in Vienna in October 1784, was published by Artaria in December 1785, together with the Fantasia KV 475. The manuscript travelled through various hands around the world until it was finally acquired by the Internationale Stiftung Mozarteum, where it now lies available for inspection and in facsimile.
Both the first and last movements have their main themes based on the triad in C minor. The first movement takes this up in rising form, followed by questioning half phrases; the second theme is much lighter and almost playful. The second movement is again in the style of an opera aria. Here we get, among other elements, a lesson in the art of ornamentation, as there exist versions in which Mozart illustrates the many melodic profiles that the theme can assume when dressed in a multitude of ornamental styles.
A lesson in the art of rubato can be found in the final movement. Leopold Mozart, Wolfgang's father, had written a treatise, published in the same year as his son's birth (1756), in which he, among many other aspects, discussed the practice of rubato. Where a good accompanist today is someone who can anticipate and follow the soloist's tempo, a good accompanist in Mozart's time was able to hold the measure while the soloist anticipated or followed it. In this third movement, Mozart writes down a rubato effect that brings about an anxious, breathtaking experience.
This sonata is often played in combination with Fantasia KV 475, composed in Vienna in May 1785 and published together with the sonata by Artaria in December 1785. For a long time it was thought that the manuscript had been lost, until it was rediscovered and acquired by the Internationale Stiftung Mozarteum, where it now lies available for inspection and in facsimile. Although Artaria published it in one volume together with sonata KV 457, this work stands entirely on its own and has no direct relation to the aforementioned sonata.
The main theme – which opens and closes the work – is particularly winding and complex, with intense chromaticism and deep sighs. It is placed alongside many other sections; some are tender, others cheerful; in yet others all the topoi of tragedy in opera seria are displayed (tremolos, ostinatos, descending bass lines...). The work alternates with virtuosic passages (which again symbolize greatness) and sudden breaks.
There follow two more beautiful pieces, dating from the same Viennese period as the works in C minor. It was the period when Mozart was active in Vienna as a freelance composer and hungry for operas. The Rondo in A minor, KV 511, was composed in Vienna on 11 March 1787 and published by Hoffmeister in Vienna in April of that year. The manuscript is in private possession and is located in Switzerland. A facsimile edition of the manuscript, published by Hans Gál, is available from Schott/Universal Edition. The main theme is a masterpiece in itself, with its delicate gestures, its hesitant chromatic rises and its broken phrases. The opening gruppetto (turn) becomes a motif in itself and is also found in the responding, juxtaposed sections in major. A peculiarity of the stunningly beautiful and pure autograph of this Rondo is the presence of an abundance of performance indications – far exceeding Mozart's usual standard – which not only makes this piece exceptional, but also forms a paradigm for the interpretation of other keyboard works by the composer.
An even more enigmatic atmosphere is that of the Adagio in B minor, KV 540. Composed in Vienna on 19 March 1788 and published by Hoffmeister in Vienna. The manuscript is housed in the Stiftelsen Musikkulturens Främjande Library in Stockholm. It is an almost Romantic piece in which the 'classical' stylistic values are already overturned by a more sentimental, sometimes even irrational, sensibility.
The album is completed by some bonus tracks. The Marche funèbre del Signor Maestro Contrapunto, KV 453a, was composed in the spring of 1784 in Vienna for Mozart's pupil Barbara Ployer. The piece was for a long time wrongly excluded from the Köchel catalogue, but is now recognized as an authentic composition by Mozart. Here the sublime and the comic intertwine; without a title it is a perfectly serious piece, but the ironic Italian title turns it into a parody. The Sonatensatz in G minor, KV 312, probably composed in Vienna in 1790, is an Allegro in sonata form, authentic but incomplete. In the manuscript, measures 111-145 were added by an unknown hand, but in a way that is entirely consistent with the stylistic framework that Mozart established in the original sections (measures 1-110 and 146-178).