Luogo e data di registrazione		St. Jude-On-The-Hill, London (United Kingdom): - dicembre 1979 (K. 35, 38, 100, 73, 118, 75, 110, 114) St. Paul's New Southgate, London (United Kingdom): - settembre 1978 (K. 128, 129) - giugno 1979 (K.124)
	Registrazione: live / studio		studio
	Producer / Engineer		Peter Wadland & Morten Winding / John Dunkerley & Simon Eadon
	Prima Edizione LP		Oiseau Lyre - D168D3 (3 LP's) - durata 53' 49" | 38' 11" | 46' 04" - (p) 1981 - Analogico
	Prima Edizione CD		Oiseau Lyre - 417 518-2 (2 CD's) - durata 70' 31" | 67' 37" - (c) 1986 - ADD
	Edizione Integrale CD		Decca (Editions de l'Oiseau-Lyre) - 480 2577 (19 CD's) - (p & c) 2009 - ADD / DDD
	Note		-

Mozart and the symphonic traditions of his time by Neal Zaslaw Salzburg and its Orchestra In the year 1757 there appeared in a Berlin music magazine an anonymous ‘Report on the Present State of the Musical Establishment at the Court of His Serene Highness the Archbishop of Salzburg’. This report lists by name and function those serving the archbishop in musical capacities, with biographies of the more important personages and brief notes on others who had attained special distinction. It begins with the Kapellmeister Johann Ernst Eberlin (1702-62), the Vice-Kapellmeister Giuseppe Francesco Lolli (1701-78), and the three court composers: Caspar Cristelli (dates unknown), Leopold Mozart (1719-87) and Ferdinand Siedl (dates unknown). Concerning Leopold Mozart we read: 'Herr Leopold Mozart from the Imperial City of Augsburg. First violinist and leader of the orchestra. He composes both church and chamber music. He was born on the 14th of November, 1719, and soon after completing his studies in philosophy and law entered the princely service in the year 1743. He has made himself known in every branch of composition, without, however, issuing anything in print except for 6 Sonatas a 3 that he himself engraved in the year 1740 (principally in order to gain experience in the art of engraving). In July 1756 he published his Violinschule. Among the compositions by Herr Mozart which have become known in manuscript, numerous contrapuntal and church pieces are especially noteworthy; moreover a large number of symphonies, some only a 4, but some with all the generally current instruments; likewise more than thirty grand serenades, in which are introduced solos for various instruments. Apart from these he has composed many Concertos, especially for transverse flute, oboe, bassoon, horn, trumpet, etc., countless trios and divertimentos for divers instruments; also twelve oratorios and a host of theatre pieces, even mime plays, and especially music for certain special occasions, such as a military piece with trumpets, kettledrums, side drums and fifes, together with the ordinary instruments; a Turkish piece; a piece with a steel xylophone; and music for a sleigh-ride with five sleigh-bells; not to mention marches, so-called notturnos, many hundreds of minuets, opera dances and suchlike smaller pieces... The three court composers play their instruments in the church as well as in the chamber, and, in rotation with the Kapellmeister, have each the direction of the Court Music for a week at a time. All the musical arrangements depend solely upon whoever is in charge each week, as he, at his pleasure, can perform his own or other persons' pieces'. This report was in fact written by Leopold, who gives himself away by immodestly making his own biography more than twice as long as (and more personal than) any of the others. His anonymity permitted him this self-indulgence, as well as the possibility of criticising one of his violinist colleagues for preferring to play technically difficult pieces while possessing a weak tone. At the time of this report, Leopold's prospects must have seemed bright indeed: he was well thought of at the Salzburg Court and could reasonably hope for eventual promotion to Kapellmeister. His Violin Method was already receiving favourable critical notice. His devoted wife, after three tragic infant deaths, had presented him with two healthy children, Maria Anna Walburga Ignatia (’Nannerl’), soon to turn six, and Joannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus, just turned one. But Leopold's old age was to be a bitter one: for his wife died on a futile journey to find a post for Wolfgang, his son never achieved a suitable post and married (in Leopold's eyes) beneath his station, and he himself never advanced beyond the rank of Vice-Kapellmeister, a fate that he brought down on his own head by virtually abandoning his own career in order to promote that of his extraordinary son. Like Leopold's hopes, the Salzburg orchestra steadily declined, not so much in size as in discipline and morale. By the late 1770s, sloppy playing, slovenly dress, absenteeism and drunkenness had become frequent problems. At the beginning of Wolfgang’s musical consciousness, however, the Salzburg orchestra was well run and indeed large for its time. Counting apprentices and choir boys, Leopold's report chronicled some 46 instrumentalists and 56 singers, leaving aside an organ builder, a string-instrument maker, three organ blowers, and five vacant positions. At first examination the string section would appear to have consisted of only 16 players (5-5-2-2-2). This is deceptive, however, because many of the woodwind players also played string instruments and, as Leopold added at the end of his report, 'There is not a trumpeter or kettledrummer in the princely service who does not play the violin well, who then all appear when large-scale music is performed at Court and play second violin or viola, which it is in the purview of whoever is in charge of the weekly direction to order'. The court musicians were also often supplemented by various amateur performers. Thus a string section of 10-10-4-6-3 or larger could be assembled without great difficulty. For the ordinary daily rounds of music-making, however, a system of rotation provided the necessary players without everyone having to play on any given day. We have reconstituted the orchestra for these recordings as it may have been heard at festive occasions during the year: the strings 9-8-4-3-2, and the necessary woodwind, brass, kettledrums and harpsichord, with three bassoons doubling the bass line whenever obbligato parts for them are lacking. The Symphony as a Genre By the time the ten-year-old Mozart came to write the earliest symphonies in this box - his first written in and for Salzburg, as far as we know - he had visited many of the major musical centres of Germany, Austria, France, England and the Low Countries. In those places he heard the latest symphonies, and wrote a few of his own in imitation of what he heard. But much of that which the child symphonist needed to learn could be learned nearer to home, for Salzburg had its own symphonists (Cristelli, Siedl, Anton Adlgasser (1729-77), Leopold Mozart himself, and especially Michael Haydn (1737-1806), who joined the Salzburg establishment in 1762), and by the 1760s, German-speaking composers were beginning to dominate symphonic production in all of Western Europe. This is evident from the large number of German symphonies published in Paris, Amsterdam and London, as well as from such remarks as these in a French essay of 1770, 'Some Reflexions upon Modern Music': 'While the French and the Italians were disputing which of them possessed music, the Germans learned it, going to Italy for that purpose. Before the Germans had the advantage of having any great men themselves, they had that of sensing the merit of their neighbours. The German artists filled the public conservatories of Naples; people of quality sent their sons to the most famous masters... They had all the raw materials required of great musicians; they lacked only the discipline to organize those materials, and they had no trouble acquiring that... The Italians have for a long time divided their music into two genres: church music and theatre music. In the first they bring together all the forces of harmony, the most striking chord progressions - in a word, the effect; and that is what they seek to combine with melody, which they never abandon. Here it is that one finds such well worked-out double and triple fugues, those pieces for two choirs or for double orchestra - in fact, the most elaborate things that the art of music is capable of producing. The theatrical genre rejects all of these tours de force absolutely. Here the Italians employ nothing learned; everything devolves upon the melody... It is quite simple on this basis to teach composition to young people: one makes them work only on church music; one shows them matters of labour before showing them matters of taste. Upon leaving the schools, the Italian pupils remain in their own country. Those who intend their talents to be employed in the theatre learn its procedures and genres: in frequent examples they see what they must remember and what they must forget. The Germans, on the contrary, return to their country. They have carefully preserved their prodigious accumulation of [musical] science. They have tested the very fortunate use of wind instruments of which their nation makes much use, and they have known how to draw the most from them. If they wished to work for the theatre, they had only scores for models. Score-reading is not as seductive as live theatre... They have realized that all expression does not suit vocal melody; that there are a thousand nuances which the orchestra is much more fit to render [than the voice]. They have tried, they have succeeded, and have raised themselves far above their masters, who now rush to imitate them. Here is what formed the likes of Hasse, [J.C.] Bach, Gluck, and Holzbauer. Let the Italians bring out symphonies of their best masters, and let them compare them with those of [J.] Stamitz, [C.J.] Toeschi, and Van Malder! Is not Monsieur Gossec himself - the only one among us French who can walk alongside these great men in the symphonic genre - a student of the German school?' Our notions of the symphony, inherited from the 19th century, are quite different from those of the 18th century. After Beethoven, the symphony was the most important large-scale instrumental genre for the Romantic composers. Their conception of the symphony as an extended work of the utmost seriousness, intended as the centre-piece of a concert, is very far from what the musicians of the second half of the 18th-century had in mind for their symphonies. This can be seen by comparing the large number of symphonies turned out then with the handful written by the major 19th-century symphonists. It can also be seen in the small number and brevity of passages devoted to symphonies in the newspaper accounts, memoires and correspondence of the period. And it can be seen in the uses to which 18th-century symphonies were put. With the arguable exception of his last few, Mozart’s symphonies were perhaps intended to be witty, charming, brilliant, and even touching, but undoubtedly not profound, learned, or of great significance. The main attractions at concerts were not the symphonies, but the vocal and instrumental solos and chamber music that the symphonies introduced. Approaching Mozart’s symphonies with this attitude in mind relieves them of a romantic heaviness under which they have all too often been crushed. Thus unburdened, they sparkle with new lustre. Performance Practice The use of 18th-century instruments with the proper techniques of playing them gives to the Academy of Ancient Music a clear, vibrant articulate sound. Inner voices are clearly audible without obscuring the principal melodies. Rhythmic patterns and subtle differences in articulation are more distinct than can usually be heard with modern instruments. The use of little or no vibrato serves further to clarify the texture. At lively tempos and with this luminous timbre, the observance of all of Mozart’s repeats no longer makes movements seem too long. A special instance concerns the da capos of the minuets, where an ancient oral tradition tells us, the repeats are always omitted. But, as we were unable to trace that tradition as far back as Mozart’s time, we experimented by including those repeats as well. Missing instruments understood in 18th-century practice to be required have been supplied: these include bassoons playing the bass-line along with the cellos and double basses, kettledrums whenever trumpets are present, and the harpsichord continuo. No conductor is needed, as the direction of the orchestra is divided in true 18th-century fashion between the concertmaster and the continuo player, who are placed so that they can see each other and are visible to the rest of the orchestra. Following 18th-century injunctions to separate widely the softest and loudest instruments, the flutes and trumpets are placed at opposite sides of the orchestra. And the first and second violins are placed at the left and right respectively, making meaningful the numerous passages Mozart wants tossed back and forth between them. Musical Sources and Editions Until recently performers of Mozart’s symphonies have relied solely upon editions drawn from the old Complete Works, published in the 19th century by the Leipzig firm of Breitkopf & Härtel. During the past three decades, however, a new complete edition of Mozart’s works (NMA) has been appearing, published by Bärenreiter of Kassel under the aegis of the Mozarteum of Salzburg. The NMA has been used almost all the symphonies from K. 128 to K. 551. For the early symphonies not yet published in the NMA, editions have been created especially for these recordings, drawing on Mozart's manuscripts, when they could be seen, and on 18th- and 19th-century copies in those cases where the autographs were unavailable. The Symphonies of 1766-72 The eleven symphonies presented here, written between the ages of 10 years 2 months and 16 years 4 months, may be divided into four categories: three overtures intended in the first instance for vocal works but later used as independent concert pieces (K. 35, 38, 74c); five Germanic concert symphonies with minuets and (usually but not always) with repeated sections in all movements, (K. 73, 75, 75b, 114, 124); two Italianate overture-symphonies, without minuets, (K. 128, 129); and one five-movement symphony drawn from an eight-movement serenade (K. 62a). None of these works were published in the 18th century. Chronologically the production of these works falls into four periods of residence in Salzburg, in between those trips on which Leopold took Wolfgang both to educate him and to exploit his status as child prodigy. This may be represented as follows: Journey to Mannheim - Paris - London - The Hague Stay in Salzburg, 29 or 30 November 1766-11 September 1767: K. 35, 38 Journey to Vienna Stay in Salzburg, 5 January 1769-13 December 1769: K. 62a, 73 Journey to Italy Stay in Salzburg, 28 March 1771-13 August 1771: K. 74c, 75, 75b Journey to Italy Stay in Salzburg, 15 December 1771-24 October 1772: K. 114, 124, 128, 129 [as well as K. 130, 132, 133, 134 found in Box 3] Joumey to Italy. Added to the third of these four Salzburg stays should perhaps also be the Symphony in Bb, K. Anh. C11.03 [Anh. 216/74g], which, however, will be dealt with in Box 7 of these recordings. Furthermore, three lost symphonies known ,only by their incipits (K. 66c [Anh. 215], 66d [Anh. 217], 66e [Anh. 218]) may belong to the second or third of these periods. In February 1772, Leopold Mozart wrote to the Leipzig publisher Breitkopf offering him various of his son's works, including symphonies. It is usually stated that, as far as symphonies are concerned, nothing came of Leopold's offer, because the Leipzig publisher never printed any of Wolfgang's symphonies during the composer’s lifetime. This constitutes a serious misunderstanding. Breitkopf printed music only by means of moveable type, a method suited primarily to keyboard music, songs, and other items in short score. For the 'publication' of sets of parts, the customary methods were either engraving or hand copying, and in fact the bulk of Breitkopf's business consisted of manuscript copies. This therefore must have been what Leopold had in mind, and in the old Breitkopf archives there was indeed found a collection of parts for ten of Wolfgang's symphonies from the period 1767-73. Some six years later Leopold wrote to Wolfgang, rather unfairly and in the light of his own dealings with Breitkopf, I think, hypocritically: 'It is better that whatever does you no honour, should not be given to the public. That is the reason why I have not given any of your symphonies to be copied, because I suspect that when you are older and have more insight, you will be glad that no one has got hold of them, though at the time you composed them you were quite pleased with them. One gradually becomes more and more fastidious'. A Note Concerning the Numbering of Mozart's Symphonies The first edition of Ludwig Ritter von Köchel's Chronological-Thematic Catalogue of the Complete Works of Wolfgang Amaadé Mozart was published in 1862 (=K1). It listed all of the completed works of Mozart known to Köchel in what he believed to be their chronological order, from number 1 (infant harpsichord work) to 626 (the Requiem). The second edition by Paul Graf von Waldersee in 1905 involved primarily minor corrections and clarifications. A thoroughgoing revision came first with Alfred Einstein's third edition, published in 1936 (=K3). (A reprint of this edition with a sizeable supplement of further corrections and additions was published in 1946 and is sometimes referred to as K3a.) Einstein changed the position of many works in Köchel's chronology, threw out as spurious some works Köchel had taken to be authentic, and inserted as authentic some works Köchel believed spurious or did not know about. He also inserted into the chronological scheme incomplete works, sketches, and works known to have existed but now lost. These Köchel had placed in an appendix (=Anhang, abbreviated Anh.) without chronological order. Köchel's original numbers could not be changed, for they formed the basis of cataloguing for thousands of publishers, libraries, and reference works. Therefore, the new numbers were inserted in chronological order between the old ones by adding lower-case letters. The so-called fourth and fifth editions were nothing more than unchanged reprints of the 1936 edition, without the 1946 supplement. The sixth edition, which appeared in 1964 and was edited by Franz Giegling, Alexander Weinmann, and Gerd Sievers (=K6), continued Einstein's innovations by adding numbers with lower-case letters appended, and a few with upper-case letters in instances in which a work had to be inserted into the chronology between two of Einstein's lowercase insertions. (A so-called seventh edition is an unchanged reprint of the sixth). Hence, many of Mozart's works bear two K numbers, and a few have three. Although it was not Köchel's intention in devising his catalogue, Mozart's age at the time of composition of a work may be calculated with some degree of accuracy from the K number. (This works, however, only for numbers over 100). This is done by dividing the number by 25 and adding 10. Then, if one keeps in mind that Mozart was born in 1756, the year of composition is also readily approximated. The old Complete Works of Mozart published 41 symphonies in 3 volumes between 1879 and 1882, numbered 1 to 41 according to the chronology of K1. Additional symphonies appeared in supplementary volumes and are sometimes numbered  42 to 50, even though they are early works. © 1980 Neal Zaslaw Bibiography Abert, Hermann: W. A. Mozart, 7th ed. (Leipzig, 1955-66) Anderson, Emily: The Letters of Mozart & His Family (London, 1966) Della Croce, Luigi: Le 75 sinfonie de Mozart (Turin, 1977) Deutsch, Otto Erich: Mozart, A Documentary Biography, 2nd ed. (London, 1966) Eibl, Joseph Heinze, et al.: Mozart: Briefe und Aufzeichnungen (Kassel, 1962-75) Framery, Nicolas Etienne: 'Quelques réflexions sur la musique moderne', Journal de musique historique, théorique, et pratique (May 1770) Hausswald, Günter: Mozarts Serenaden. Ein Beitrag zur Stilkritik des 18. Jahrhunderts. (Leipzig, 1951) Larsen, Jens Peter: 'The Symphonies', The Mozart Companion (London, 1956) Larsen, Jens Peter: 'A Challenge to Musicology: the Viennese Classical School', Current Musicology (1969), ix Mahling, Christoph-Hellmut: 'Mozart und die Orchesterpraxis seiner Zeit', Mozart-Jahrbuch (1967) Mila, Massimo: Le Sinfonie de Mozart (Turin, 1967) Mozart, Leopold: 'Nachricht von dem gegenwärtigen Zustande der Musik sr. Hochfürstl. Gnaden des Erzbischoffs zu Salzburg im Jahr 1757', Historisch-kritische Beyträge zur Aufnahme der Musik (1757), iii Saint-Foix, Georges de: Les Symphonies de Mozart (Paris, 1932) Schneider, Otto, and Anton Algatzy: Mozart-Handbuch (Vienna, 1962) Schultz, Detlef: Mozarts Jugendsinfonien (Leipzig, 1900) Sulzer, Johann Georg: Allgemeine Theorie der schönen Künste (Berlin, 1771-74) Zaslaw, Neal: 'The Compleat Orchestral Musician', Early Music (1979), vii/1 Zaslaw, Neal: 'Toward the Revival of the Classical Orchestra', Proceedings of the Royal Musical Association (1976-77), ciii		Symphony in C major, K. 35 In late 1766 and early 1767 Mozart set Part 1 of a Lenten oratorio, Die Schuldigkeit des ersten und fürnehmsten Gebots ('The Obligation of the First and Foremost Commandment'). The second and third parts of this oratorio - the text of which is by the Salzburg Burgomaster Ignaz Anton Weiser (1701-85) - were set by Michael Haydn and Anton Adlgasser respectively. Mozart’s portion received its première in the Knights' Hall of the archepiscopal palace on 12 March, with a second performance on 2 April. Haydn's portion was performed on 19 March, and Adlgasser's probably on 26 March. According to the libretto for Part 1, 'The action takes place in a pleasant landscape with a garden and a small wood', and there are stage directions throughout. Nonetheless, it is likely that the 'theatre of the mind' was intended rather than the stage. The protagonists of this frigid allegory are: The Spirit of Christianity, The World Spirit, Divine Mercy, and Divine Justice. In Part 2 'A Lukewarm and Afterwards Ardent Christian' is added to the cast of characters. Mozart’s setting consists of seven arias and a concluding terzetto, interspersed with recitatives. This is prefaced by an orchestral movement headed 'Sinfonia. Allegro', which is the symphony presented here. From its character this energetic commontime allegro, with its Italianate opening melody in sixths accompanied by a repeated-note bass line, could just as well have served to launch an opera. Carl Ferdinand Pohl, who in 1864 rediscovered the lost autograph manuscript of Die Schuldigkeit in the Royal Library at Windsor Castle (where it is still located), characterised the 'Sinfonia' as 'simple and natural in structure'. It is in binary form, with both halves repeated. The opening section rapidly comes to rest on the dominant, and a contrasting 'sigh' motive is heard several times. (This motive is featured prominently in the second half of the movement, in thirds, sixths, and octaves; upside down and rightside up.) A brief return of the opening idea leads to a sonorous closing section, with tremolo in the violins and the melodic interest transferred to the bass. The second half begins as did the first but in the dominant key. No new ideas are introduced; rather the ideas of the first half are skilfully manipulated through several keys and changes of orchestration, before the return of the home key and the opening idea a mere fifteen bars from the end. The entire small-scale movement is well wrought and in the period's most modern, galant vein. Symphony in D major, K. 38 In Leopold Mozart’s catalogue of his son’s childhood works, one reads the entry: 'Apollo and Hyacinth, music to a Latin comedy for Salzburg University, with five singing personae. The original score had 162 pages. Written in [Wolfgang's] eleventh year 1767'. Salzburg University was run by the Benedictines, who, in their schools, had long had the custom of mounting plays, operas and even ballets on morally edifying themes. In this instance, a spoken tragedy was being staged, and Mozart’s 'opera' was, in the 18th-century manner, divided into three portions, which were used as a prologue and as intermezzos between the acts of the tragedy. Apollo and Hyacinth was performed by students and teachers in the Great Hall of the University on 13 May. Although it seems to have been well received, there is no record of further performances. The libretto, in Latin and in the style of the Italian opera librettos of the day, relates the story found in Ovid and elsewhere of Apollo's accidental slaying of the youth Hyacinth, whose blood was transformed into the flower that bears his name. The work's overture, or 'Intrada' as Mozart labelled it, is listed as an independent 'Sinfonia' in an early 19th-century Breitkopf & Härtel manuscript catalogue. The single-movement work, in 3/4 and marked allegro, is even briefer than the previous symphony. Like that work this too is in binary form, but with only the first half repeated. Saint-Foix remarks upon the work's 'symphonic' character. This may refer to the nearly total absence of cantabile melody in this 'Sinfonia', with its scales, arpeggios, syncopations, repeated notes and fanfares. All in all, a happy noise for a festive occasion. Apollo and Hyacinth has one further symphonic connection: a duet from it (No. 8, 'Natus cadit') was itself transformed by Mozart into the slow movement of the Symphony in F major, K. 43 (concerning which see Box 7 of this series of recordings). Symphony in D major, K. 62a (100) This symphony was extracted from an orchestral serenade - a logical procedure given that the occasions for serenades and for symphonies were quite different, and that serenades were made up of interlarded symphony and concerto movements prefaced by a march. In the present case the interpenetration of the constituent genres is as follows: The undated autograph manuscript of the serenade is found among an important group of manuscripts that was in Berlin until World War II and is now in Kraków. The work is lacking in Leopold's 1768 catalogue of his son's works and mentioned by Wolfgang himself in a letter of August 1770, so these two documents provide us with termini a quo and ad quem. The large scale of the piece and the presence of trumpets and kettledrums suggest that it was intended for a celebration at court, and not (as is usually stated) as a 'Finalmusik' for the end of the summer term at Salzburg University. This is one of five Mozart serenades that exist in symphony versions. For three of the five there are extant sets of orchestral parts of the symphony version at least partially in Leopold's or Wolfgang's hand, making clear that they themselves were involved in the redaction. In the remaining two cases (including the one at hand) we have only copyists’ manuscripts, but there seems every reason to believe (by analogy with the other three) that these too stem from originals coming from Mozart or his immediate circle. The symphony version of K. 62a was perhaps for use in Salzburg, but may also have been intended for Mozart’s first trip to Italy, begun on 13 December 1769. It was the Mozarts’ custom when travelling to give concerts in the cities they visited, both to promote Wolfgang's reputation and to help finance the journey. We note, for instance, that Wolfgang gave public concerts in Innsbruck (17 December), Rovereto (25 December), Verona (5 January), Mantua (16 January), Milan (23 February), Bologna (26 March), Florence (2 April), etc.. The programme in Mantua is known, and it included two symphonies by Mozart. The programmes of the other concerts have not come down to us, but some them undoubtedly also included symphonies. It was not until August 1770 that Mozart wrote home to Salzburg from Bologna announcing, 'I have already composed four Italian symphonies’. This suggests that he had previously been using Salzburg symphonies brought along for the purpose, and K. 62a may well have been among them. Concerning the first movement- a commontime allegro - Günter Hausswald has written of 'the echoes of a festive, boisterous opera overture on the Italian model'. Characteristics of this style are, he continues, thematic material built on broken triads and fanfare-like ideas, as well as 'a true al fresco style worked into a large-scale overall structure'. The melodies are 'essentially conventional and traditional in scope', and 'limited to repeated broken chords; to rigidly maintained chains of scales; to instrumentally idiomatic, free figuration; to punctuating chords. Only two subsidiary ideas reveal an individual profile'. Lurking behind Hausswald's description of the movement one senses disapproval of what he considered to be a lack of originality and of singable melody. But the 18th century was much more interested in suitability than in originality, and the lack of vocal melody places the movement in the category of abstract art, a category with which aestheticians of both the 18th and 20th centuries have had difficulties. In the former period Leopold Mozart referred to symphonies by J. Stamitz in the abstract vein as 'nothing but noise', and the writer Lacépède tried to cope with the problem by requiring that symphonies have programmes. Linguistic analogies, beloved of 20th-century analysts, which speak of phrases, sentences and paragraphs, break down in the face of works that would appear to be composed largely of conjunctions, prepositions and articles. Detlef Schultz dismisses such movements as 'purely decorative' which, like Hausswald's remarks, seems to hint at a perceived 'lack of meaning'. Here we have an aspect of musical creativity in which practice has far outstripped the ability of theory to explain it. The minuet that follows is also based upon fanfares and scales. Its opening idea seems tongue-in-cheek, perhaps because, as Machaut had a circular creation of his own proclaim, 'Ma fin est mon commencement'. The trio, in G major and for strings alone with divided violas, offers us a chamber-music intimacy that contrasts happily with the pomp of the minuet. The marvellous change of tone evident from the first note of the andante (in 2/4 and A major) is due to a combination of factors: the key changes; the horns, trumpets and kettledrums have dropped out; the violins are muted; the cellos and basses play pizzicato; and the oboists would here have put down their instruments and taken up transverse flutes. This pastoral movement is dominated by the sound of the flutes, whether sustaining slowly changing harmonies or adding melodic fillips. A second minuet exhibits less pomp than the first, though with even more scales. The trio, again for strings alone but now in D minor, makes much. of joking grace notes and the slapstick comedy of high versus low and loud versus soft. Hausswald calls the trio 'scherzolike'. The finale, a jig in the form of a rondo. brings the festivities to a suitably lively conclusion. Its principal theme, which occurs no fewer than fourteen times, bears a passing resèmblance to the popular German round Am Abend, the first line of which is 'O wie wohl ist mir am Abend' and which in English-speaking countries is known by the words 'O how lovely is the evening'. The author of this tune is said to be one K. Schulz. Can this be the Karl Schulz who was a tenor and voice teacher at the Salzburg Cathedral during the periods 1769-79 and 1783-87? On the other hand, the principal theme also resembles the hunting call entitled 'Le vol-ce-l'est'. According to an 18th-century treatise on hunting, 'One sounds this fanfare when one again sees the hunted stag'. The likelihood is that these three tunes are not directly related, but have common antecedents. Symphony in C major, K. 73 The autograph manuscript of this work, also formerly in Berlin and now at Kraków, bears only the inscription 'Sinfonie' in Mozart’s hand. The date '1769' was added in a later hand, perhaps Leopold's. Köchel accepted that date and the editors of the sixth edition of his catalogue have reverted to the same date, thus calling into question Alfred Einstein's assignment of the work in the third edition to the summer of 1771. It is due to Einstein's attempted redating (accepted by Saint-Foix) that this symphony will occasionally be found designated as K. 75a. As a sketch for the minuet of this symphony is found in the autograph of a series of minuets (K. 61d/103) that Mozart is thought to have written for Carnival 1769, the symphony may have been completed around that time and the Köchel number 73 would therefore be too high. The error of Einstein’s proposed redating is confirmed by another manuscript, which originated as an attempt by Leopold to copy out a bass part for this symphony. For unknown reasons Leopold abandoned his effort after only 12 bars, and Wolfgang later used the largely empty sheet of music paper to resolve a puzzle canon from Padre Martini's Storia della musica, a book which came into the Mozarts’ possession in early October 1770. Wyzewa and Saint-Foix comment on the Germanic character of the first three movements of this work. Abert considers the opening idea of the first movement to be strongly influenced by the Mannheim School of symphonies. Schultz puts the matter somewhat differently, writing of the opening that 'the principal theme departs from the overture-type. It is a hybrid form in which a first phrase, built of chordal figurations in the Italian style, gives way to a cantabile phrase in a manner unknown to the theatre symphony. In other respects the movement still bears a pronounced overture character'. It is perhaps indicative of the movement's hybrid nature that, even though the symphony as a whole is a four-movement concert symphony along Germanic lines rather than a three-movement Italianate overture-symphony, the first movement's two main sections are (in the Italian manner) not repeated. The andante - a binary movement in F major and 2/4- is treated similarly to that of the previous symphony: the horns, trumpets and kettledrums drop out and the oboists take up their flutes. Larsen singles out this movement from among all of Mozart’s symphonies of this period 'for its fine cantabile, and even more for the short dialogue between first violins and first flute'. Wyzewa and Saint-Foix find the stately minuet Haydnesque (Joseph, not Michael), and especially the trio which is for strings alone. The finale shows French influence, as they point out, and is in fact a contredanse en rondeau. The movement is marked allegro molto 2/4, but one can sense the moderato gavotte underlying the rondo theme by beating time only once a bar, starting with an upbeat. Although the finale is 176 bars long, Mozart wrote out only eight brief passages totalling 72 bars. These eight passages he numbered in such a way that an alert copyist could piece together the whole movement. (Over the first passage, for instance, he wrote ’1 2 5 6 8 9 16 17’, thus indicating the position of its eight appearances.) Mozart’s method of abbreviation saved him time, paper and ink; it also permits us a clear vision of the extent to which he had the structure of the movement in his mind before he wrote it down. Symphony in D minor, K. 74c (118) Leopold and Wolfgang Mozart spent a single day (13 March 1771) in Padua on the way home from a triumphant Italian tour. They had hoped to be mere tourists but news of their presence leaked out immediately and Wolfgang had to perform at two noble homes. As a result, he was commissioned by a local nobleman, Don Giuseppe Ximenes, Prince of Aragon, to set Metastasio’s 1734 oratorio text, La Betulia liberata. The work was apparently completed by the summer of 1771. In a letter of 19 July to an Italian patron, Leopold reported his plan to send the manuscript to Padua on the way south to Milan in August, in order to permit the oratorio to be copied; and on the return journey, to visit the town in order to listen to a rehearsal. We never learn why these plans fell through, but the Mozarts did not revisit Padua, and the Paduans performed another setting of the same libretto, apparently by the local composer Giuseppe Calegari. Furthermore, there is no evidence that Mozart’s oratorio was performed in Padua or in Salzburg at a later date, nor can vague reports of performances in Munich in 1775 or Vienna in 1786 be substantiated. Hence this major work of Mozart’s youth may have remained unperformed during his lifetime. The symphony at hand was intended to serve La Betulia liberata as its overture. It is a work well written from beginning to end that deserves to be better known. Aspects of the more famous 'Little' G minor symphony, K. 173dB/183, that have fascinated commentators (see Box 4) are present in this work of two years earlier. The marvellous sounds found in the efflorescence of minor-key symphonies of the early 1770s by Mozart, Dittersdorf, J. Haydn, Vanhal, and Ordoñez were not entirely new. The opera house had long required such tempestuous effects to portray both the storms of nature and those of human emotions. The young Mozart was familiar with this style some years before he composed K. 74c, for when he was staying in Chelsea in 1764 he had sketched into a notebook a G minor keyboard piece, K. 15p, in a quasi-orchestral style, which already captured the stormy character that has erroneously been claimed as an innovation of the 1770s. Luigi Tagliavini, the editor of Betulia for the NMA, writes that the overture 'introduces the atmosphere of the 'Azione Sacra'. This recalls Kirnberger's description of the symphony as'... particularly suited to the expression of greatness, solemnity, and stateliness. Its purpose is to prepare the listener for the important music that follows... If it is to carry out this purpose adequately and become part of the opera or church music that it precedes, then, besides an expression of greatness and solemnity, it must also have a character that puts the listener in the proper frame of mind for the piece to follow...'. Metastasio's story is drawn from the Apocrypha. Its central figure is Judith who, when the Jewish city of Betulia was under siege by the Assyrians and nearing surrender, left the city and sought out the enemy commander, Holofernes. In pretending to seduce him, she managed to behead the disarmed commander. The Assyrians withdrew and Betulia was spared. Mozart’s 'Overtura' consists of three sections, in common time, 3/4, and 2/4, but without tempo indications. These sections are usually interpreted by performers and editors as a ponderous allegro, a flowing but poignant andante, and a fiery presto - by analogy with other sinfonias of this structure. The first and last sections are based upon the same thematic material and, in fact, the 3/4 section may be viewed as an interruption. It is probably no coincidence that this work is in the same key as the overture to Gluck's Alceste (1767) and shares with it a rising third motive. The Mozarts were familiar with Gluck's opera, which figures in their correspondence as early as February 1768. Symphony in F major, K. 75 An autograph of this symphony is unknown. The work cannot have been widely circulated in the 18th century, for it survived only in a single set of manuscript parts in the Breitkopf archives in Leipzig. Köchel assigned the symphony to the summer of 1771, which Mozart spent in Salzburg between his first and second trips to Italy, and neither this date nor the authenticity of the work has ever been challenged. The need for new symphonies was constant, for aside from his participation in the continuing music at court, Mozart gave 'academies' (as concerts were called) in Salzburg that summer, as well as in Rovereto (17 August), Milan (22 November) and Brixen (11 December). The present symphony may have figured in those activities. It is scored for the standard small orchestra of the period: strings with pairs of oboes and horns, and harpsichord and bassoons added to the bass line. The opening of the 3/4 allegro is an unusual composite idea formed from turns (gruppettos) in the first violins connected by rising arpeggios in the oboes. This is extended by energetic 'motor rhythms' of Vivaldian descent, which feature anapaestic patterns. All of the material of this lively ternary movement is thus accounted for except for the twenty-bar middle section, which is developmental in character and begins with a fugato on a new theme, though this soon lapses into homophony. As in the previous symphony, there are no repeated sections. The minuet is unusual in at least two regards: it occupies the second rather than the third position in the four-movement scheme and it is filled with slurs. Symphonic minuets, which trace their descent from French ball-room and stage dances, are usually in a more detached, staccato, rhythmic style, rather than the legato, cantabile style associated with Italian music. This example, however, leans in the cantabile direction. The trio, for strings alone, is thematically related to the opening of the first movement. The andantino, like many of Mozart’s of this period, is in 2/4 with the violins muted. In addition the horns drop out and the key changes to Bb major. The character is that of an Italian cantabile aria, worked into a rounded-binary movement with both sections repeated. The two sections end with the same material, and the delicate way in which Mozart ornaments those ideas at the end of the second section is an especially fine touch. The 3/8 finale seems to have confounded the critics. The Köchel catalogue gratuitously labels it 'rondeau', which it most assuredly is not. Wyzewa and Saint-Foix believe that the opening theme exhibits the character of a French dance, while Abert is equally certain that it is based upon a German folk dance. Neither the Frenchmen nor the German offers an example for comparison. The idea itself has the special feature of an unexpected pause, which in a most attractive way turns what the ear expects will be an ordinary eight-bar phrase into a nine-bar one. (The nature of the pause will be familiar to those who recall Brahms' Hungarian Dance No. 6 in Db major.) Nationality aside, there is at least agreement on the high spirits and dance-like nature of the finale. The movement is in rounded-binary form, influenced by rudimentary sonata-form, with both sections repeated. Symphony in G major, K. 75b (110) The autograph manuscript of this symphony, along with several others, was previously in Berlin and is now in Kraków. Mozart headed it, 'Sinfonia del Sgr. Cavaliere Amadeo Wolfg. Mozart in Salisburgo nel Luglio 1771'. The title 'Cavaliere' refers to a knighthood within the Grder of the Golden Spur, which the Pope had conferred upon the fourteen-year-old prodigy in Rome in July 1770. A year later plans were already well advanced for the second trip to Italy, and this symphony, like the previous one, was perhaps assigned the double role of providing material for a final round of music-making in Salzburg and for 'academies' in Italy. A work usually receives a new Köchel number only when new evidence emerges suggesting a changed date of origin. In the present instance, however, revisions to Köchel's original chronology for 1771 were so extensive (many works were found to be in the wrong order, assigned to the wrong year, or even spurious), that an almost entirely new chronology had to be worked out. When the dust settled, it was no longer possible to use the number 110 for this symphony, and it acquired the new number 75b, without its date of composition, July 1771, altering. It is difficult to regard this symphony as coming from the same creative impulse as the previous two. It is worked out on a much grander scale and apparently with more care. This is manifest in all movements in the more contrapuntal writing of the inner parts and, especially, of the bass line. The opening allegro 3/4 is more than twice as long as the previous first movements, if the repeats of both sections are observed. Rather exceptionally for Mozart, the movement tends toward the monothematic. That is, the opening idea reappears (somewhat transformed) in the dominant as a 'second subject' and again in its original guise in the closing section of the exposition. The development section is based on an imitatively-treated descending scale, and this is followed by striding quavers in the bass (an idea previously heard in the closing section of the exposition). The recapitulation is far from literal, with the bridge-passage extended in a developmental way. The monothematicism and the introduction of developmental aspects in the recapitulation are relatively unusual for Mozart but common for Joseph Haydn, whose influence has also been noted elsewhere in the symphony. The second movement, in C major and alla breve, bears no tempo indication, although it is clearly an andante or andantino. The oboes are replaced by flutes, and a pair of bassoons - previously and subsequently subsumed along with the cellos, double basses and harpsichord under the rubric 'basso' - suddenly blossoms forth with obbligato parts. If the movement had been given a title, it might have been 'Romanza'. The romanza, or romance (to give it its English and French form), was a strophic poem telling a gallant love story set in olden times. In mid-18th-century Paris it began to be set to simple folk-like melodies for use in salons and in stage works. This style of music was soon transferred to instrumental music. Gossec first used a romance in a symphony around 1761, as did Dittersdorf in Vienna, in 1773. Mozart has taken the mock-naïve musical style of the romance in the 'simple' key of C major, and worked it into a sonata-form movement with two repeated sections. Most of the movement's two-bar phrases are immediately repeated, creating a kind of musical construction that the French called 'couplets'. The great care with which the inner parts of this usually homophonic style are worked out, however, reveals a craftsman in the German tradition. An especially effective colouristic touch is the major chord built upon the flattened sixth degree of the scale, which sounds twice near the end of each section. The minuet is canonic, and commentators again see the influence of Haydn, who wrote canonic minuets in several symphonies of the period. Mozart’s aggressively striding minuet is nicely contrasted with the more sedate E minor trio, for strings alone. The Köchel catalogue claims that the da capo of the minuet is fully written out in Mozart’s autograph; this is not correct, and would have been most atypical of Mozart who customarily used every possible abbreviation and short-cut when writing down his compositions. The finale, like that of K. 73, is a 2/4 allegro in which one can sense the gavotte or contredanse underlying the theme by beating time at half speed (once in a bar) beginning with an upbeat. This rondo has a striking middle section (itself binary in structure) in G minor that is rather exotic in character and nicely sets off the courtly dance that surrounds it. Symphony in A major, K.114 This is the first of a series of eight fine symphonies written for Salzburg in the period of less than a year between the Mozarts’ second and third Italian trips. It marks the onset of what Mila has dubbed 'symphonic fever', for in the period 1770-75 Mozart composed no fewer than thirty-six symphonies. There were undoubtedly practical motives behind this outpouring of symphonies in addition to artistic ones. The Italian trips had not proved as lucrative as Leopold had hoped, and he had been denied a portion of his salary during his absence. It was time for him and his son to settle down at home in order to pay off their debts. Archbishop Sigismund Christoph von Schrattenbach died in December 1771, a few days after the Mozarts returned to Salzburg. Much music was needed for the period of mourning, for Carnival, for Lent, and for the installation of the new archbishop in April. In addition, Mozart sought a promotion, for his title of concert master was honorary - that is to say, unpaid Having proved his mettle with Il sogno di Scipione, the sixteen-year-old became a regularly paid member of the court orchestra on 9 July 1772, at the modest annual salary of 150 florins. Mozart and his father returned from Italy on 15 December 1771, and the autograph manuscript of this symphony - once again found among the Berlin-Kraków material - is dated a fortnight later. This then must be a work for the muted festivities of Carnival 1772. Several commentators suggest that in this symphony Mozart declares himself for the 'Viennese' symphonic style, while still retaining important Italian elements. This refers to the greater length, the more extensive use of wind instruments, the more contrapuntal texture, the four-movement format, and the greater use of non-cantabile thematic materials. Larsen considers this symphony 'one of the most inspired of the period. One could point out many beauties in this work, such as the developmental transition, the second subject with its hint of quartet style, and the short, but delicately wrought development with elegant wind and string dialogue'. Even the opening bars, which forgo loud chords or fanfares and begin piano, suggest something new. Schultz thought the first theme to be 'Viennese' in style but, in fact, with its mid-bar syncopation, it is closer to the style of J. C. Bach. Mozart heard Bach's symphonies in London in 1764-65, and there is evidence that they were also performed in Salzburg in the early 1770s. This movement exhibits that fullness of ideas which was noted as a hallmark of Mozart’s style as early as 1792, and which Larsen describes with reference to this work as 'the dominant tendency' to present 'a whole series of fine cantabile themes: symphonic development results from their interplay and contrast'. Perhaps the only conservative trait of this inspired and otherwise forward-looking movement is the concertante, rather than symphonic, handling of the winds in the development section. In the previous symphonies the oboists were required in the andante to take up flutes; here the reverse is the case, oboes replacing flutes and the horns falling silent. The movement, in 3/4 instead of the more usual 2/4, is in sonata form with both sections repeated. The violas, which had already made an appearance divisi in the development section of the first movement, here provide an important series of duets, often doubling the oboes at the octave below or engaging in dialogue with them. Schultz considered the movement the 'highpoint' of Mozart’s symphonic andantes up to this point in his career. Its most curious feature is the development section which, written in continuous quavers, gives the impression of a not-quite-convincing Baroque Fortspinnung in the midst of the modern periodic style of the exposition and recapitulation. The editors of both the NMA and Mozart-Handbuch claim that an unattached A major minuet, K. 61gI, was originally intended by Mozart for this symphony. That cannot be right, however, because the work in question probably dates from as early as 1770 and lacks the pair of horns called for by K. 114. When Einstein examined the autograph manuscript of K. 114 prior to 1936, he found there another, fully-scored minuet that Mozart had crossed out. The opening theme of the rejected minuet (reproduced in the Köchel catalogue) is a reworking of the theme of the andante. Could this have been the reason that Mozart crossed it out and inserted the present minuet? In any case, the present minuet is a particularly stately, old-fashioned one, spiced with some implied secondary-dominant chords near the end of each section. Its trio, in A minor, is in a mock-pathetic vein. The repeated-note melody, on the fifth degree of the scale rising a semitone to the sixth, is a melodic shape familiar to Mozart from the plainchant setting of the sombre Holy Week text Miserere mei, Deus. The mocking comes from the second violins, who gad about with their triplets and trills as if they were making variations on a comic opera tune. The finale, molto allegro 2/4, begins with a brief fanfare once repeated. Remarkably, however, instead of introducing a theme, Mozart then has the orchestra play, twice and in a conspicuous manner, the harmony primer chordprogression: I-IV-V-I. This is the so-called ’bergamasca’, a kind of dance or song in which a melody is composed or improvised over many repetitions of these four chords. In German-speaking countries the most common text sung in this fashion was ’Kraut und Rüben’, which runs this way: Cabbages and turnips drove me away. Had my mother cooked some meat, Then I'd have stayed longer. Mozart does not quote the 'Kraut und Rüben' tune, however, and we do not know what the purpose of his joke may have been, though its very presence would seem to reinforce our suggestion that this symphony was composed with Carnival in mind. The rest of the movement, in sonata form with both sections repeated, is also in high, if more conventionally symphonic, spirits. All this reminds us of the description of Salzburg by a German visitor of the mid-1770s: 'Here everyone breathes the spirit of fun and mirth. People smoke, dance, make music, make love, and indulge in riotous revelry, and I have yet to see another place where one can with so little money enjoy so much sensuousness'. Symphony in G major, K. 124 Carnival ends on Mardi Gras and with the next day, Ash Wednesday, Lent begins. In 1772 these days fell on 3 and 4 February respectively. Mozart wrote at the top of this symphony (also in the Berlin-Kraków collection), 'Sinfonia del Sigr. Cavaliere Wolfgang Amadeo Mozart Salisburgo 21 Febrario 1772'. Hence we may have a work intended for a Lenten concert spirituel. On the other hand, Mozart may equally have been preparing works for the new archbishop, who took office on 29 April. The archbishop was a competent amateur violinist who liked to join his orchestra in performances of symphonies, standing next to the concert master, perhaps for maximum professional guidance and perhaps also to be seen symbolically at the orchestra’s centre of power. The new ruler took a personal interest in the orchestra, which even as early as 1772 must have been experiencing some difficulties, for a report from November of that year states that he 'has lately been at great pains to reform his band, which has been accused of being more remarkable for coarseness and noise, than delicacy and high-finishing'. The first movement of this symphony has a character quite different from that of the previous symphony. The angular opening theme in 3/4 is of a much more abrupt nature than the genial opening theme of K. 114. Curiously, however, the two themes outline the same note sequence: do-sol-mi-re-sol-fa-mi. For the rest, the first movement of K. 124 is more compact, more concise, less inclined to a fullness of ideas. An especially attractive touch is the ambiguous rhythm of the second subject, which for a moment leaves the listener unsure as to whether he is hearing 3/4 or 6/8. A fermata on a diminished chord allows us one last breath before we plunge with great energy toward the final cadence of the exposition. The development section begins calmly, but a 'false reprise' in E minor soon introduces the stormy effects so frequently associated with symphonic development. The recapitulation is literal, with a four-bar coda added. Both main sections are repeated. The andante, a binary movement in 2/4 with both halves repeated, is notable for its attractive concertante writing for horns and oboes. After the elegance of the andante, the brusquely energetic minuet and trio provide an exhilarating change of pace. The cheerful rondo finale, presto 2/4, begins with the same fanfare as the previous finale, but continues on in an apparently straightforward manner. The joke, if it is one, comes in the coda where the melody suddenly evaporates and we are left listening to some chords, syncopations, tremolos, an oom-pah bass and a fanfare or two. The effect is rather like the music-hall’s 'vamp 'til ready', but instead of serving as introduction, it serves as conclusion. Symphony in C major, K. 128 Along with the symphonies K. 129 and 130 (the autograph manuscripts of which are all found today in West Berlin), this symphony bears the legend 'nel mese de maggio 1772 a Salisburgo'. The composition of three symphonies (and the 'Regina coeli', K, 127) in a single month is unusual even for Mozart. Some one must have lit a fire under him, and we can only speculate whether or not it was the newly installed archbishop. The opening movement is marked not simply allegro but also maestoso, suggesting something slightly broader than that of the typical first movement of this period in Mozart’s symphonic production. It is notated in 3/4, but the listener at first takes it for 9/8 since the rhythm in the first half of the exposition comprises entirely quaver triplets. The second theme, a memorably leaping melody, first reveals the underlying 3/4 rhythm. After a touch of the second theme in the minor, an energetic bass line figure introduces the closing section. The exposition is repeated but the remainder is not. The development section is announced by the sudden appearance of an Eb major chord, which proves to be a herald of D minor. Then follow in rapid succession E minor, A minor, G major, F major and again G major, the dominant needed to lead to the recapitulation. The development takes only thirty-one bars during which the thematic material is almost entirely scales, yet it is so tightly and logically constructed that considerable momentum is generated and one has the impression of having traversed great tonal distances. The recapitulation is not literal, containing some fine developmental touches. The slow movement employs only the strings. Just as the previous allegro was maestoso, so here the andante is grazioso, which has equally the effect of somewhat slowing and deepening the movement. The entire movement, which is in sonata form with both sections repeated, gives the impression of having been written con amore. A chamber-music texture involves all of the players in dialogue - usually between the first and second violins or between the upper and lower strings. There is no minuet and the finale is a jig (in the form of an oddly proportioned rondo). These features stem from Italian models, rather than Viennese, as does the conservative writing for the oboes and horns in the first movement and in most of the last. When we reach the coda of the finale and think that Mozart has played his last card, he surprises us by bringing forth the horns for an extended series of huntinghorn calls. Symphony in G major, K. 129 A great chord with quadruple-stops in the violins launches the first movement, which is an allegro in common time. There follows an odd little tune, based on the so-called 'Lombardic' rhythm or 'Scotch snap', which is heard again as part of the second subject and as the most important motive of the development section. A Mannheim crescendo leads into the closing section of the exposition, in which the first and second violins engage in witty repartee. Both halves of this sonata-form movement are repeated. The temperamental development section alternates brief moments of lyricism with forte outbursts of Lombardic rhythm. The recapitulation is literal. Larsen notes the movement's prevailing opera buffa character. The 2/4 andante, in C major, begins like a serene song with the strings playing alone. The oboes and horns then join the strings and the song is repeated. For the rest of the exposition no other striking ideas are introduced, but Mozart spins a magical web of commonplace melodic fragments. The development section is a concise eight-bar fugato, leading to a literal recapitulation plus a two-bar coda. Again both halves are repeated. The finale begins with a hunting-horn flourish or fanfare, virtually identical to one that Mozart used many years later to begin his piano sonata, K. 576. This 3/8 allegro has two large repeated sections with the modulatory scheme of a sonata-form movement. At the moment when the tonic returns, however, the opening theme is only hinted at and no true recapitulation occurs. This movement is thus perhaps best considered to be in rounded-binary rather than sonata form. The function of lively jig-finale like the present one is probably analogous to that which Mozart later ascribed to an act finale of an opera which, he wrote, '...must go very fast- and the ending must make a truly great racket... the more noise the better - the shorter the better - so that the audience doesn’t grow cold before the time comes to applaud'. © 1980 by Neal Zaslaw