Michael Collins plays Mozart:Themes and variations

4 December 2018: Stratford Play House
5 December 2018: Royal Birmingham Conservatoire

• Igor Stravinsky – Concerto in D for string orchestra ‘Basle’
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Clarinet Concerto in A major, K.622
• Igor Stravinsky – Concerto in E flat for chamber orchestra ‘Dumbarton Oaks’
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Symphony No.40 in G minor ‘Great G minor Symphony’, K.550

Today’s concert is a rich demonstration of just how broad the classification – and content – of ‘classical’ music can be. Stravinsky’s paired concertos are Neoclassical (1920-1950, or thereabouts); and their inspiration and form stem mainly from the Baroque period (approximately 1600-1750). Mozart (1756-1791), of course, is held up by many as the very model of a Classical (1750-1820 or so) composer; but – especially at the outset of his life and career – was, of course, also indebted to the works of Bach, Handel, Lully, etc..

However, it did not take long for young Wolfgang to stretch the categorization of his output and dig the foundations of what would become to be known as the Romantic (roughly 1780-1910) – despite Britten claiming that “A certain rot… set in with Beethoven”. Nor, listening to Bach’s Goldberg Variations, is it difficult to find such defining personal passion and self-centred sentiment within, or to be intensely moved by them. All of which only goes to show why the above numbers (apart from Mozart’s) are so very “thereabouts”, “approximately”, “or so”, and “roughly”; and may explain why Descartes once opined that “Perfect numbers like perfect men are very rare…” – although Hamlet’s written claim to Ophelia that “I am ill at these numbers” may be much more accurate!

The case I am trying to make is that Mozart – despite, to that “many”, being just the creator of memorable melodies (such as lies at the centre of today’s heartbreaking Clarinet Concerto) – not only crossed musical divides; but, in many cases, actually invented them. And the ‘Great G minor Symphony’, which closes the concert, is the perfect demonstration of that: evoking Classicism and Romanticism, and predicting Serialism, all in the space of around twenty-five minutes. In other words, his music is all his own; it defies (or at least pushes back at the boundaries of) classification… – although there is no doubt in my mind that his œuvre can be labelled that of a genuine genius.

PS: Even defining the overarching term ‘classical music’ can be laborious; but I am happy to accept Wikipedia’s – that it is “Art music produced or rooted in the traditions of Western culture, including both liturgical (religious) and secular music”. If you think you know, and/or can do better, please email your suggestion to writer@orchestraoftheswan.org with the subject ‘Definition’. The best entry will win two complimentary tickets for a concert of your choice, and will be published in the next programme.

Tai Murray plays Mendelssohn:Themes and variations

2 November 2018: The Courtyard, Hereford
6 November 2018: Stratford Play House
7 November 2018: Royal Birmingham Conservatoire
8 November 2018: Cheltenham Town Hall

• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Overture, ‘The Marriage of Figaro’
• Felix Mendelssohn – Violin Concerto in E minor, Op.64
• Felix Mendelssohn – Sinfonia for Strings No.6 in E flat major
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Symphony No.25 in G minor, K.183

Reviewing a performance (by OOTS, of course) of “The six movements extracted from Mendelssohn’s version of A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, in May 2016, I contended that the composer I have subsequently named my cat after…

…was an undoubted genius…. That he produced his first violin concerto – not the one [you will] be singing for the next week… – when still in shorts; followed it not much later with a string octet that has never been beaten; wrote some great oratorios; magnificent symphonies; and some of the best piano pieces I have ever managed, fumblingly, to play – all before dying at a stupidly young age (not much older than Mozart, indeed) – should be evidence enough. But anyone who can transform an orchestra into a braying donkey must rank amongst the very greatest composers of all time!

Tonight’s Sinfonia for Strings – the sixth of a set of twelve, written between the astonishing ages of twelve and fourteen – can also be slotted easily into this prodigy’s long list of precocious masterworks: his command of the smaller orchestra (and particularly of strings) easily on a par with this concert’s other great wunderkind, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

And, although the temptation is to dream of, say, Mendelssohn’s Fifteenth Symphony, or Mozart’s Piano Concerto No.67 (alleging, perhaps, that “only the good die young”), I would prefer to concentrate on the incredibly long list of incredibly wonderful works that thankfully survive from their abbreviated existences (Mozart dying at thirty-five, Mendelssohn at thirty-eight) – both, like Schubert (dead at thirty-one), perhaps, compelled by some premonition to communicate as much of the beauty they found in and around themselves as frequently and urgently as possible.

Interestingly, the works before the interval are both from the composers’ later outputs; whereas those following are the earlier pieces. However, all four compositions are readily matched in style to their creators: their maturity having ripened – if not come totally to fruition – during their temperate teenage years.

Italian Sunshine:Themes and variations

9 May 2018: Forum Theatre, Malvern Theatres

• Gioachino Rossini – Overture, ‘Italian Girl in Algiers’
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Piano Concerto no21 in C major, K467
• Felix Mendelssohn – Symphony no4 ‘Italian’ in A major, op90

Sitting down to write this on the first steadfastly sunny day of Spring, just over a month ago, the blue sky seen through my window – punctuated with only the occasional faint ellipsis of cloud – proved too much of a temptation: and I ventured outside, leaving my labour behind. There, I soon discovered that Winter was still making itself all too present: with its icy winds nibbling at my face and fingers, and the sodden turf beneath my feet oozing with the evidence of March’s heavy downpours. The sap was rising, though (even if the mercury wasn’t): the hellebores, daffodils and hyacinths were in full flower; our oak tree laden with buds; the jackdaws cautiously collecting its discarded twigs to reinforce their distant nests; the blackbirds, robins and finches singing heartily. The only music which came to my mind, though, was Vaughan Williams’ Sinfonia antartica.

Back at my desk, I heard the central heating – the thermostat having been tickled by those brumal breezes – clear its lungs, and creak into action (like myself) once more. What was needed, of course – to truly fulfil the new season’s potential (and to thaw out my nose) – was such warmth. Not artificially generated though; but that which naturally coexists with the azure above and below the Mediterranean horizon; that which is embedded in that region’s winds – the zephyr, sirocco, and fittingly-styled maestro – that which bursts forth from tonight’s balmy programme!

Thus we have a concert not only of “sunshine” (Italian, certainly; but with a gentle touch of the Viennese, by way of Sweden) – but also wit (combined with subtle feminism); beauty (paired with virtuosity); and radiant joy (contrasted with brief stateliness). Oh, and youth! (Although how many concerts have you been to where Mozart is the senior composer – at the grand old age of twenty-nine?!)

As Mendelssohn (twenty-four, when tonight’s symphony was first performed) once wrote:

This is Italy! And now has begun what I have always thought… to be the supreme joy in life. And I am loving it. Today was so rich that now, in the evening, I must collect myself a little….

Even if the weather outside is frightful, I guarantee you will leave the theatre fully prepared for its onslaught: with a smile on your face; a tune (or two) on your lips; and warm sunlight in your heart.

John Lill plays Beethoven:Themes and variations

19 January 2018: Forum Theatre, Malvern Theatres

• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Overture ‘Don Giovanni’, K527
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Symphony no41 ‘Jupiter’ in C major, K551
• Ludwig van Beethoven – Piano Concerto no3 in C minor, op37

This evening’s concert features – arguably – two of the greatest composers who ever lived: both with major works composed hastily during periods of significant trial and tribulation. Firstly, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – here in financial straits, after the failure of his latest opera; and possibly on the verge of depression – three years before his death and his final great outpourings. And then Ludwig van Beethoven, as he began to break free of his great idol’s influence to find his own voice: despite struggling to come to terms with the onset of deafness – especially the concomitant tinnitus.

Don Giovanni had been hailed a palpable hit at its first performance in Prague, in October 1787; but, just over six months later, in Vienna, a revised version met with failure. Facing this setback head-on, Mozart immediately began composing his three final, miraculous, symphonies: managing somehow to complete them in successive summer months.

The last of these – our second work, tonight – even in the light of its two remarkable symphonic companions, K543 and K550 – is utterly astonishing. It simply does not matter whether you consider ‘Jupiter’ the greatest symphony ever written (as I do) – or merely(!) the greatest symphony of one of the “greatest composers who ever lived” – it will always stand as an imposing, sunlit monument to the man and the genre. (Sadly, it seems unlikely that it was ever performed in Mozart’s lifetime.)

It is difficult not to consider Don Giovanni his greatest opera, as well (although his later “great outpouring”, Die Zauberflöte, K620 – certainly more successful in his lifetime; and more frequently performed, today – must also be a contender). The overture is rumoured to have been composed on the day of its first performance (29 October 1787). However, Mozart records the completion of the opera as the day before! Whatever the case, as with the symphony, there are absolutely no audible signs of such alacrity.

Only music from the pen of a composer of Beethoven’s stature could succeed such masterpieces: with a work also premiered in Vienna (in April 1803, alongside his first two symphonies) – however, yet again, to mixed reviews. This time, though, the score had not even been finalized: the composer, as soloist, playing reportedly from “nothing but empty pages [with] a few Egyptian hieroglyphs… scribbled down to serve as clues”!

Tamsin Waley-Cohen plays Mozart:Themes and variations

21 November 2017: Stratford ArtsHouse
22 November 2017: Town Hall, Birmingham

• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Symphony no15 in G major, K124
• Edvard Grieg – Holberg Suite, op40
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Violin Concerto no4 in D major, K218
• Joseph Haydn – Symphony no22 ‘The Philosopher’ in E-flat major, Hob.I:22

In different ways, all three of today’s composers (and all four of today’s works) can be seen as reflecting on their compositional inheritance – or even looking back at it deliberately, with unfeigned affection – especially in the use of earlier dance-forms. In doing so, they each not only shine a new light on such musical history and tradition, but also breathe fresh energy into its utilization.

Fifteen, when he wrote his Fifteenth Symphony, and only eighteen or nineteen when he wrote his five violin concertos, Mozart’s style, here, is not yet fully mature, of course: and he is therefore still audibly influenced by that of his predecessors and elders – including his father, Leopold; as well as JC Bach and Michael Haydn. Nevertheless, the obvious musical growth demonstrated by this concert’s two compositions is quite astounding. And it is in the later work’s final movement – the Violin Concerto’s explicitly French-style Rondeau (Italian: rondó; ‘round’) – that Mozart’s retrospection takes its most concrete form. (As with its predecessor, K216, though, this movement stops and starts, and veers off in all sorts of ‘modern’ and ‘humorous’ directions!)

Additionally, until supplanted by the Beethovenian scherzo (Italian for ‘jest’ or ‘joke’), the minuet (Italian: minuetto; German: Menuett; French: menuet) was a recognizable, characteristic part of most classical symphonies: and thus features in both of today’s, along with its typical, central trio (so-called because, initially, this was in three-part harmony: as with the minor-key sections of sixteenth-century masses). Originally a rustic French dance, the menuetto (a neologism frequently used by both Mozart and Beethoven) is always in triple time – its epithet deriving from its distinctive dainty step: that is, from the French menu, for ‘small’.

As well as including such a Menuet e Trio, the overall structure of Haydn’s symphony also references the past: its slow-fast-slow-fast sequence of movements being more typical of the Baroque-era (roughly 1600 to 1750) sonata da chiesa (‘church sonata’). Its instrumentation, though, is both unique and groundbreaking.

However, it is in Grieg’s Holberg Suite that we find bygone styles evoked most knowingly – the deliberate call to earlier forms and styles (as with Warlock’s Capriol Suite and Prokofiev’s Classical Symphony) coloured with, and seen from, a more distant remove; as well as treated with a more modern discernment. Proof indeed that looking back is no hindrance to looking – and moving – forward.

Jennifer Pike plays Mozart:Themes and variations

16 May 2017: Forum Theatre, Malvern Theatres

• Michael Haydn – Symphony no25 ‘Mozart’s 37th’ in G major, MH334
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Violin Concerto no3 ‘Strassburg’ in G major, K216
• Franz Schubert – Symphony no5 in B-flat major, D485

Three months before he composed the symphony which closes this concert, nineteen-year-old Franz Peter Schubert wrote in his diary: “O Mozart! immortal Mozart! what countless impressions of a brighter, better life hast thou stamped up our souls!” – and it comes as no surprise, therefore, that the ensuing work owes a major debt to his idol (particularly his 40th Symphony).

In some ways, all three of today’s works are Mozartian – either by attachment (or attribution), authorship, or afflation (or such divine inspiration as Schubert would perhaps claim). In fact, until 1907, Michael Haydn’s vibrant 25th, which opens proceedings, was believed to be Mozart’s 37th (K444) – although it is difficult to accept, upon hearing it, that anyone could have really considered it the sequel to the miraculous Linz Symphony (K425): written – in four days – in late 1783. Despite it being composed in the same year, it is more representative of a previous era: when young Wolfgang was still striving to find his own voice. Having said that, today’s violin concerto was composed eight years earlier – when Mozart, like Schubert, was only nineteen – and yet his distinct, rapidly-burgeoning genius really shines through.

There is little doubt that Mozart thought a great deal of the older composer; and they were indeed good friends – influence therefore flowing in both directions. So, when Mozart was commissioned to write his great Requiem, it is likely that he used Michael Haydn’s C minor mass (MH155) as a model. (Coincidentally, Haydn wrote forty-one symphonies – his last being composed one year after Mozart’s stupendous Jupiter Symphony.)

Sadly, we hear very little of the younger Haydn’s music nowadays. It is his big brother, Franz Joseph, we look to as Mozart’s mentor; and Mozart’s influence we hear propelling later composers. It is well-known that Tchaikovsky idolized him – his Rococo Variations the most direct tribute – and Ravel stated that he was similarly inspired when composing the Adagio assai of his G major piano concerto.

No-one else, though, has ever quite recaptured that melodic ease, or fleetness of composition (although Schubert comes exceeding close). As Ravel said of his Mozartian theme: “That flowing phrase! How I worked over it bar by bar! It nearly killed me!” However, Brahms expresses it best, in a letter to Clara Schumann: “But how happy is the man who, like Mozart…, arrives at a pub in the evening and writes new music. Creating is simply his life, but he does what he wants. What a man.”

Emma Johnson plays Mozart:Themes and variations

13 April 2017: Forum Theatre, Malvern Theatres

• Joseph Haydn – Concerto for Two Flutes in C Major, Hob.VIIh:1
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Clarinet Concerto in A major, K622
• Christoph Willibald Gluck – Dance of the Blessed Spirits
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Symphony no40 in G minor, K550

Tonight’s concert should probably be dedicated to Calliope, the Muse of epic poetry: who not only inspired Homer’s Odyssey and Virgil’s Aeneid – but whose name means ‘beautiful voiced’.

Moreover, there is a keyboard instrument called a calliope: which features a set of pipes usually powered by steam; and which is not that far removed from the lira organizzata – a fascinating Italian gizmo that is half hurdy-gurdy, half chamber organ. This ‘organ-ized lyre’ was the favourite instrument of King Ferdinand IV of Naples: who was one of the original soloists (along with his teacher) in tonight’s Concerto for Two Flutes – originally, the first of Haydn’s Concertos for Two Lire Organizzate – pieces which work equally well when played not only on flutes, but also oboes and recorders.

Furthermore, the “beautiful voices” of solo woodwind are at the heart of three of this concert’s works – an extremely unusual occurrence indeed: seeing that, as Emma Johnson recently pointed out, when I interviewed her, “The solo repertoire for violin and for piano is far larger than that of any of the woodwind instruments.”

And, finally, it is Calliope’s son Orpheus (or Orfeo) – who the goddess “taught verses for singing” – and his attempt to rescue his wife Eurydice (Euridice) from the Underworld – that inspired the opera from which our third work is taken: Gluck’s ravishing Dance of the Blessed Spirits (which, in placing Elysium, the world of the blessed, within the Underworld, also follows strongly in the Homeric tradition).

Overall, though, it is melody which unites these four late 18th Century works: built, as they are, around some of the most beautiful and memorable tunes ever written. My personal favourite is that which gently opens the Adagio of Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto: which Emma described as “one of those examples of pure beauty in art” – one which I find incredibly moving. She confirmed that even for her, as soloist, “it is an emotional experience to play… and if the performer doesn’t feel that, then neither will the audience…. Like an actor,” she added, “you have to learn to manipulate your emotions so they express the work of art you are performing.”

I will leave the last word to Irving Berlin, though: who – with Mozart’s fireworks still ringing in your ears, as you head safely homewards… – probably expresses that enduring property of the greatest tunes better than anyone else: “The song is ended But the melody lingers on.”

Laura van der Heijden plays Tchaikovsky:Themes and variations

11 April 2017: Stratford ArtsHouse
12 April 2017: Town Hall, Birmingham

• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Eine kleine Nachtmusik, K525
• Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (edited by W Fitzenhagen) – Variations on a Rococo Theme, op33
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Symphony no40 in G minor, K550

Why are variations on a theme such a popular art-form – for composers, at least? Elgar famously used them, in his Enigma Variations, to paint portraits of his closest friends. Bach wrote the incomparable Goldberg Variations to assuage insomnia. And some – including Czerny, Brahms and Britten – composed a collection to pay tribute to those that have inspired or tutored them (respectively: Beethoven, Schumann and Bridge – but not exclusively).

The variation is one of the oldest musical forms: even being found within the keyboard works of William Byrd (c1540-1623). Its development is also intimately linked with that of the concerto: from the earliest concerti grossi, through Handel and JC Bach, to Franck’s Variations symphoniques for piano and orchestra – and, of course, this concert’s Rococo Variations.

Its possibilities are inexhaustible. If you require proof: one of the most popular themes used for ‘alteration’ is that of Paganini’s Caprice no24 in A minor for violin. Not only does this prototype itself include eleven variations; but many, many musicians – including Brahms, Lutosławski, and, most notably, Rachmaninoff – have created wonderfully transformative sequences of their own.

Julian Lloyd Webber, our conductor today, has also recorded an album, simply entitled Variations, based on this theme: written for him by his brother, Andrew. I therefore wondered if he might have an answer. Why…?

Because, for a composer, it’s a big challenge: to be able to write a set of variations on one particular theme; and come up with very different ideas. Some of the ideas are so good… – you hear these Paganini variations: the way different composers approach them – it’s fascinating. For instance, Rachmaninoff turning the tune around and making an absolutely beautiful melody – that’s very, very clever! I do think Andrew was quite brave to choose that tune: because so many other famous pieces had come out of it. But he’s never shirked a challenge!

And so I think it works both ways: for the composer to demonstrate his technique, and what he can actually do with imagination and a simple theme; and also for the audience, who get to follow the changes through a theme that they hear many times during a piece of music.

Tchaikovsky, of course, opted to write his own theme. He may claim it as ‘Rococo’; but, in reality, it has more to do with his role model – the man he called his “musical Christ” – Mozart: whose inspirational works also begin and end today’s proceedings.

The greatest and most satisfying manifestations of human expression…

On Thursday, 13 April 2017, “internationally acclaimed clarinettist, recitalist, chamber musician, recording artist and lecturer” Emma Johnson will be joining OOTS for an evening of sublime 18th century music in the Forum Theatre, Malvern. Although in the middle of a busy concert schedule, Emma was kind enough to carry out the following interview, via email.

There don’t appear to be many famous classical clarinettists in the world (indeed, at any one point in time). Is this because of the lack of mainstream repertoire – especially, say, compared to that for the piano or violin?
The solo repertoire for violin and for piano is far larger than that of any of the woodwind instruments, and that is why the clarinet is usually considered an orchestral instrument. When you are nine years old and picking an instrument to play, you don’t know these things. But once it became clear I wanted to be a musician, it was naturally assumed I would try to play in an orchestra.
     However, I gradually discovered that the solo clarinet repertoire is richer than people realize: spanning from Mozart, Weber, Brahms and Schumann, to Finzi, Poulenc, Copland and many modernists; as well as playing a pivotal role in jazz. There is, in fact, ample material for a clarinet soloist; and I have expanded the repertoire, too: by making arrangements and transcriptions, and commissioning new pieces.
     In addition, winning BBC Young Musician at the age of 17 allowed me to think differently, and to develop my clarinet playing so that it had the variety and range of a solo recitalist. Because of the opportunities the competition opened up to play solo, it enabled me to realize a vision I had of how a solo clarinettist could be.

Guy Johnston plays Haydn:Themes and variations

23 February 2017: Forum Theatre, Malvern Theatres

• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Sinfonia Concertante for Four Winds in E-flat major, K297b
• Joseph Haydn – Concerto No.2 in D Major for cello and orchestra, Hob.VIIB:2
• Joseph Haydn – Symphony no59 ‘Feuer’ in A major, Hob.I:59

My dictionary tells me that the simple word ‘fire’ embraces many more meanings than I had rashly assumed: from “the heat and light of burning” through “ardour” and “passion” to “spirited vigour or animation” – and I think those properties can be found in all three of tonight’s works: warming the chill February air equally; but in diverse ways. The compositions are also linked by their instrumentation: the addition of oboes and horns to OOTS’ core strings reinforcing their quintessential translucent, intimate chamber feel – yet producing extended and contrasting variations in both texture and effect.

All written within a period of fifteen years, it would be easy to lump the three pieces in with the contemporary Sturm und Drang movement, as well. However, Mozart’s Sinfonia Concertante, which begins the concert, is lit mainly by the qualities of ardour and passion – especially in its first two movements. Its finale, though, is full of quasi-Haydnesque wit; as well as a great deal of spirited vigour and animation.

The concerto builds on this fervour. Although technically challenging – the fiery, almost explosive, finger-work is as visual a delight as it is an aural one… – Haydn’s writing exploits the timbre of the cello to the full (as well as its range and volume): making it sing. I thus believe it to be one of the greatest works ever composed for the instrument. That it demonstrated (and extended) its expansive capabilities so early on in its history, is, to me, a manifestation of the great composer’s continual willingness to acquire skill and knowledge, to experiment, to stretch… – indeed, a manifestation of his genius.

It differs from his 59th Symphony in many ways – time and experience encouraging complexity, perhaps… – and yet this earlier work still demonstrates Haydn’s lifelong propensity to push at boundaries; as well as his ability to quickly move not only from the ‘stormy’ to the ‘driven’, but the sublime to the, er, humorous (and back again)! In some ways – especially with its opening Presto – it does encapsulate the artistic trend which pivoted around it. And yet, in its finale, the composer – in stamping his mark on the work – almost produces its antithesis: realizing one last definition of its slightly circuitous sobriquet – “refraction of light in a gemstone”. It truly sparkles!

Mozart, meet Joanna Lee!Themes and variations

14 February 2017: Stratford ArtsHouse
22 February 2017: Town Hall, Birmingham

• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Overture, ‘Bastien und Bastienne’, K50/46b
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Sinfonia Concertante for Four Winds in E-flat major, K297b
• Joanna Lee – Blue Blaze – Dance Suite [world premiere]
• Joseph Haydn – Symphony no59 ‘Feuer’ in A major, Hob.I:59

I wonder how many potential tunes there are in the world – already written; or, as Elgar supposed, “in the air… all around us”? Given a set number of notes, there are obviously only, statistically, a finite number of sequences that can be developed. So, isn’t it truly amazing that, when performed – even if ‘recycled’ by other composers: either coincidentally, or in tribute – such melodies are not only recognizable (they strike a chord, if you will), but they also have the power to immediately lead you back to a single source?

For example: catching the opening theme of this concert, played out of context, many people in the audience would, I am sure, instantly call to mind Beethoven’s Eroica – although then wonder who had run off with those two monumental introductory thunderbolts (and why it was played in the wrong key and by the wrong instruments). Or maybe Wagner’s Das Rheingold…? (Although, there, as you might expect, its appearance is more lushly orchestrated.) This ‘fanfare’ – based on a major triad: thus readily playable on a natural (valveless) horn – also appears at the beginning of Brahms’ Second Symphony; and, according to George Grove (he of the musical dictionary), in his violin concerto, too – not to mention the Scherzo of Schubert’s ‘Great’ C major symphony; as well as Beethoven’s very own Hammerklavier sonata.

But hear it: and I’m pretty sure that it will be the latter’s Third Symphony that comes to mind; even though he was born two years after the overture – to singspiel, or comic opera, Bastien und Bastienne – was composed… by twelve-year-old Mozart: which is why all thoughts of Beethoven will quickly fade away. Even at this age, ‘Amadeus’ was displaying signature greatness.

By the way, the opera probably wasn’t performed publicly for another twenty-two years. But it is unlikely that Beethoven was present; or, if he was, that he would intentionally borrow something so pleasantly pastoral to signify ‘the heroic’.

Conceivably, the most amazing upshot, I think, is that this short tune serves both – indeed all – of its purposes extremely well. Because in none of the instances listed does it sound anything other than each composer’s own: perfectly pitched, perfectly scored. Maybe because, to paraphrase two other truly great musicians: “T’ain’t What You Write (It’s the Way That You Write It)”.

Mozart & Moravec:Themes and variations

6 December 2016: Stratford ArtsHouse

• Joseph Haydn – Sinfonia Concertante in B-flat major, Hob.I:105
• Paul Moravec – Nocturne [world premiere]
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Symphony no41 ‘Jupiter’ in C major, K551

Today’s concert features three outstanding, immensely prolific composers – all at the height of their powers. Joseph Haydn, during the first of his two visits to London: and therefore at the outset of writing his twelve glorious, final symphonies. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – albeit in financial straits; and possibly on the verge of depression – three years before his death and his final great outpourings; but rapidly completing his three last stupendous symphonies in successive summer months.

And Paul Moravec? Even after winning the Pulitzer Prize, in 2004, for his spine-tingling Tempest Fantasy – just one of many awards; just one of many astounding works – here is an extremely productive musician, who, it appears, never rests on his laurels, but continues to produce characteristic, emotive music for a wide range of forces: all of which he treats with equal reverence, skill, and love. Fortunately for us, one of his most recent compositions is Nocturne – written to celebrate the orchestra’s 21st Anniversary season as a companion piece to the Sinfonia Concertante which opens the programme.

Using the same soloists as Haydn – with the addition of cor anglais to the oboe part (and with only strings for the main orchestra) – this is a highly imaginative, lyrical piece: engrossing from first note to last. It also exhibits some of the wit that the earlier composer is renowned for – especially in its “Playful, quick” third movement.

But why is Haydn’s Sinfonia Concertante itself not more well-known? Anthony van Hoboken, who catalogued the composer’s works (hence the ‘Hob.’ number attached to each), obviously believed this delightful creation slotted naturally into the ‘Symphonies’ category (Hob.I) – assigning it the number 105 – although, chronologically, it comes between the 96th and 97th. As it contains much of the drama and inventiveness of those works – albeit in a slightly more compact form – I am convinced we, too, should treat it with reverence.

As to the final work, “reverence” – as well as astonishment – is more than due. It simply does not matter whether you consider Mozart’s Jupiter the greatest symphony ever written – or merely(!) the greatest symphony of one of the greatest composers who ever lived – it will always stand as an imposing, sunlit monument to the man and the genre.

PREVIEW: Mozart and Friends with Lucía Caruso

As well as a thrilling set of variations, Folía, for piano, Portuguese guitar, and orchestra – written with her husband, guitarist Pedro H da Silva (above) – Argentine-born pianist and composer Lucía Caruso will be performing Mozart’s intriguing Piano Concerto no.13 in C major (K415) three times with the orchestra this month:

• 19:30, Tuesday, 11 October – at Stratford ArtsHouse;
• 14:30, Wednesday, 12 October – at Town Hall, Birmingham; and
• 19:30, Wednesday, 19 October – at Cheltenham Town Hall.

The inestimable Frances Wilson – otherwise known as ‘The Cross-Eyed Pianist’ – caught up with Lucía ahead of these concerts; and the resulting in-depth and thoughtful interview can be read on her website, as part of her addictive Meet the Artist… series.

Thank you, therefore, to Frances for her hard work; and to Lucía for her beautifully detailed responses.

Mozart and Friends with Lucía Caruso:Themes and variations

11 October 2016: Stratford ArtsHouse
12 October 2016: Town Hall, Birmingham

• Antonio Salieri – Sinfonia in D major ‘Il giorno onomastico’
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Piano Concerto no13 in C major, K415
• Lucía Caruso and Pedro H da Silva (orchestrated by Pedro H da Silva) – Folía
• Joseph Haydn – Symphony no92 ‘Oxford’ in G major, Hob I:92

Ignore everything you may have gleaned about Antonio Salieri – especially from that film! With only five-and-a-half years difference in age, it is no surprise that he and ‘Amadeus’ were rivals for many of the leading musical jobs on offer at the time. However, it is extremely unlikely that homicide was the end result! Indeed, in later life, these two great musicians were, if not friends, peers who worked together, and had a great deal of respect for each other. Likewise, Mozart and Haydn – who, when the former died, called the younger man “irreplaceable” – their friendship probably being established the year after today’s concerto was completed: when Mozart was in his late twenties; Haydn, his early fifties. Effectively, then – apart from the tremendous bonus which follows the interval (although it not only travels through this period, but echoes Salieri’s undoubted masterpiece: twenty-six incredibly virtuosic, ingenious orchestral variations on the very same theme, from 1815) – today’s concert captures the world of three pre-eminent composers who not only knew and influenced each other, but also dominated the musical scene of their age: with Mozart at its Viennese core.

If the opening symphony and the subsequent concerto are not regularly performed (relative to the fame of their creators; and the 13th is certainly not one of the most famous of Mozart’s 23 piano concertos), then the opposite is true of Haydn’s 92nd symphony – although, as Michael Kennedy once said, this was “composed in 1788 with no thought of Oxford”! However, it is a pocket-sized treasure: beautifully expressing that Austrian zeitgeist; as well as encapsulating and building on the composer’s previous orchestral triumphs… – immediately before he entered the glorious Indian summer of his twelve London symphonies.

What all four works here have in common then are not just bonds of friendship (an OOTS trademark), but excitement, contrasted with lyricism of the highest, most penetrating order – the Salieri thrilling in its exploration of orchestral technique and timbre (as well as its riveting beginning, luxurious middle, and gravity-defying end); Mozart’s concerto mesmerizing in its almost unceasing, meandering and vaulting virtuosity; Lucía and Pedro’s Folía electrifying with both mastery of musical evolution and execution; and finally, Haydn, yet again stretching the bounds of symphonic form: with invention, intelligence and the most exhilarating finale!

Laura van der Heijden and ‘Mercurial’ Haydn:Themes and variations

27 September 2016: Stratford ArtsHouse
28 September 2016: Town Hall, Birmingham

• Joseph Haydn – Symphony No.43 in E-flat major, Hob.I:43
• Joseph Haydn – Concerto No.2 in D Major for cello and orchestra, Hob.VIIB:2
• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – Symphony No.29 in A major, K201

My dictionary tells me that the word ‘mercurial’ can mean “active, sprightly, often changing” – and I think this adjective can be applied to all three of this concert’s works: but in slightly different ways. They are also linked by their orchestration – the addition of oboes and horns to the Orchestra of the Swan’s core strings reinforcing our happy band’s quintessential translucent, intimate chamber feel – yet producing extended and contrasting variations in both texture and effect.

All written within a period of a dozen years, it would be easy to lump these pieces in with the contemporary Sturm und Drang movement. However, although Haydn’s 43rd Symphony (the earliest of them) can feel at times both ‘stormy’ and ‘driven’ (especially in the final Allegro), its frequent changes of mood are anything but extreme. If anything, it is a thoughtful piece – admittedly full of contrasts and feelings of unrest – but overwhelmingly lyrical.

The concerto (the latest of the three) builds on this lyricism. Although technically challenging – the ‘mercurial’ finger-work is as visual a delight as it is an aural one – this work exploits the timbre of the cello to the full (as well as its range and volume): making it sing. I thus believe it to be one of the greatest works ever composed for the instrument. That it demonstrated (and extended) its expansive capabilities so early on in its history, is, to me, a manifestation of Haydn’s continual willingness to learn, to experiment, to stretch… – indeed, a manifestation of his genius.

The Mozart symphony that ends the concert is, though, the sprightliest of the three: a youthful high note on which to end a quite stunning programme! It is simply joy unconfined; and more proof that the late 18th Century not only gave us Romanticism (‘stormy’ or otherwise); but set the high standards that later composers would have to work hard to surpass.

It’s all in the playing…

This year’s Orchestra of the Swan Associate Artist is cellist Laura van der Heijden – the winner of BBC Young Musician 2012 – who many of you will have seen and heard deliver an astonishing rendition of Elgar’s Cello Concerto during July’s Last Night of the Shakespeare Proms. As I wrote then…

Laura’s interpretation of this masterpiece is definitely all her own. (As [David] said, so perspicaciously, in his pre-concert talk: she has made it so by first, wisely, returning to the source material – interrogating and understanding Elgar’s clear, precise, multifarious directions….)

     Additionally, she seems to have realized that, just because a work is known for its emotion, not all of that needs to be of the negative variety. Undoubtedly, there are many passages of profound, sublime sadness. However, there is also a great deal of joy to be found – and to be expressed. And this Laura did with incredibly fresh, youthful vigour….

     Such passion, as Laura so beautifully demonstrated, is contained in the notes themselves (such is the wizardry of Elgar’s writing and orchestration). And, although I would never argue that any musician should not bring their own experiences and feeling with them when playing any work, I do believe that they should not then impose them on it (especially not to the music’s detriment). Performer and creator need to find a balance where both voices speak equally – and it is this quality so evident in Laura’s playing that is so utterly impressive (if not so utterly stupefying…).

     Her thoughtful rendition showed such a keen understanding not only of this requisite harmony, but… of the composer’s expressed intentions – as well as how to convey them through the prisms of her own heart, mind and body.

Your intervention is most helpful…!

Many musical works – for instance, Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto – begin delicately: easing you in gently to the fireworks that will later appear (and how…). Some – like Mozart’s 25th Symphony – punch at full, syncopated pelt from the opening notes. Thus, this blog will do, too: launching on Angel of the North-sized wings and a very forthright orison!

So, no introductions – except to say “Welcome!” – and that I hope you will stay with us: as David, Artistic Director of Orchestra of the Swan, and I, Stephen, its freshly-anointed Writer in Residence, try our very best to develop a conversation around some of the background, backstage goings-on, that may not readily be apparent from the concerts (or even their associated pre-concert talks).