Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756 - 1791)
Sinfonia Concertante K.364 (320d) in E-flat major

In 1779 Mozart’s European tour took him to Paris where he hoped to secure a permanent post. There, the sinfonia concertante was a popular form combining symphonic depth with soloistic showmanship. Mozart wrote, wholly or in part, six sinfonia concertantes and multi-soloist concertos. This one may have been written for himself and his father Leopold to perform, or for Wolfgang to perform with the Salzburg orchestra’s concertmaster. Wolfgang liked the viola and later played regularly in quartets with Haydn.

In this work, the soloists slide in, gracefully understated, after the orchestra’s introduction. They interweave, always supporting, never competing as they take turns elaborating their themes. The slow movement is tenderly sorrowful; Mozart’s beloved mother, who accompanied him on his journey, fell ill and died. One can imagine this music as a tribute to her. The final movement dispels that mood, the two soloists leading each other in a merry chase and pitting their skills against each other in a game of imitation.

Dmitri Shostakovich (1906 — 1975)
Symphony No. 4 op. 43 in C minor

Shostakovich began this symphony with high hopes in 1935. But then, Stalin attended his opera, Lady MacBeth of Mtsensk and responded with an article in Pravda savagely denouncing Shostakovich as an enemy of the State.

Shostakovich told his friends, “I don’t write for Pravda, I write for myself,” and continued composing. However, its premiere with the Leningrad Philharmonic was cancelled and the score was lost. Not until 1961, eight years after Stalin’s death, was it safe to perform.

The Fourth’s huge canvas requires a huge orchestra. It is filled with machine sounds recalling the relentless labour extolled by the State, or the State’s heartless power pitted against humanity. The expanded orchestration and the juxtaposition of clashing elements — trivial, intellectual, banal, and tragic — are hallmarks of Mahler, whose work fascinated Shostakovich at the time.

The first movement is in a sprawling sonata form whose conflict-filled interludes gravitate towards hectic march themes. The second movement has a relaxed swaying rhythm punctuated by little outcries from instruments in their extreme registers. It ends with a strange clock-like accompaniment from the percussion, like a ghost machine. A reflective, wandering bassoon solo begins the last movement; there are many solos in astonishing, beautiful timbres over a drag-footed march. Frantic interludes break in, filled with Shostakovich’s distinctive driving energy or even a surprising playfulness. A triumphant false finale brings a Mahlerian immensity before the symphony ends in a depersonalised pianissimo chilled by chimes and celeste.