Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Concerti per corno

Almost all of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's (1756 - 1791) concerts that involved the use of solo instruments were composed for a specific recipient. Those for horn were directed to Joseph Leutgeb (1732 – 1811), a member of the Freemasonry, a dear friend of the composer, and a great interpreter of this particular instrument. At that time, he was indeed considered one of the most virtuosic horn musicians and perhaps it is for this reason, as well as for the friendship between the two, that the following "dedications" written by Mozart in Italian are found in the score of the Concerto in D major K. 412:

"Wolfgang Amadè Mozart has compassion for Leutgeb, donkey, ox, and fool. To you, Mr. donkey. Come on, be brave, quickly, go on courageously, and already finish? To you. Beast oh what a discord oh! Alas! Oh, what a pain in the balls! Oh, God what speed! Ah, it makes me laugh! Breathe a little! Come on, come on, this can go quite well. And you're not even done? Ah infamous pig! Oh, how graceful you are. Cute! Little donkey! Ha ha ha breathe! But at least pitch one note, damn it! Oh! Alas! Ha ha ha! Well done, well done, bravo! And you come to pester me for the fourth and God be blessed, for the last time Oh, please finish. Oh damn! Even a display of skill? Well done! Ah, trill of a blockhead! Are you done? Thank heavens! Enough, enough!"

These playful words from 1791 have a twofold virtue. On one hand, they offer us a touch of humanity, dissolving the fog of prejudice that sometimes tends to portray classical composers as enveloped by the sacred fire of inspiration. On the other hand, they give us a smile by depicting the joyful image of a mischievous Mozart having fun teasing his friend Leutgeb, mocking his ability to translate the notes written on the sheet music into music without falling into difficulties such as losing breath. Thus, I imagine Leutgeb chasing Amadeus, who runs along the manuscript and, turning around, makes faces. A very different image from that of other musicians, Beethoven, for example, is remembered as a perpetually frowning person, not inclined to laugh, perhaps even exaggerating in this reconstruction of an eternal romantic hero. But Mozart was nevertheless different, because alongside the memories of the pains of a difficult childhood, he harbored elements of lightness and popular humor well depicted in this mocking and playful challenge to his friend Leutgeb. Therefore, Mozart's humanity, in this aspect, does not appear far from the portrait given to us by Milos Forman with his "Amadeus" ("imaicab olucli"). But what intrigues the most about this representation of the artist is comparing these jocular notes with the music that, as always happens with the Austrian composer, soars to great heights. And though these concerts do not represent an absolute masterpiece in his vast musical production, this does not detract from the immense pleasure of listening to them, because in them we find intact all the characteristics of Mozartian poetics: the dance, the freshness, the melodic clarity, the balance of forms, the sense of comfort in counterpoints, as well as some isolated and restless pre-romantic elements. All in an extravagant mix that is perfectly recognizable to the ear and calls to the lips one name: Mozart.

This applies even to the concerto K. 412 (1791) despite reaching us incomplete and reworked after the composer's death. Consisting of two movements, it opens with the Allegro, which is an excellent example of how to balance lightness and dynamism. Two themes outlined by woodwinds join, preparing for the entrance of the horn, which takes on the thematic development. It's a carefree, bright, and singable start, where the dark and full-bodied sound of the horn happily marries with the inherent brightness of the strings. The following Rondò is based on a hunting theme (in fact, the Waldhorn is nothing other than the hunting horn) that alternates between emotional and melancholic development, in perfect coherence with the very high melodic breath typical of Mozart's works.

The Allegro that opens the subsequent Concerto K. 417 (1783) has a more solemn tone, highlighting a complex interplay in the dialogue between the orchestra and the horn engaged in soft and singable virtuosic evolutions. The Andante has a slower rhythm and is characterized by the expansions of the strings that line the sound of the winds among which the solo horn emerges in the distance. Perhaps it's one of the most beautiful moments of the album for all the delicacy it expresses, destined to fade into the playfulness of the final Rondò that, unlike the other movements, sees a role reversal between soloist and orchestra. The initial theme is in fact given to the horn, finding the support of the entire orchestral ensemble later, to aid the development. The curious finale shows an unexpected acceleration that cuts off the idea of a grand conclusion.

The Concerto K. 447 (1787) is my favorite of the four because I sense a special energy in it, dense, sparkling but with slightly troubled streaks. I don't know if these characteristics derive from Mozart's writing or from the interpretation, which unfolds with great intensity thanks to the musical intelligence of Karl Böhm. On the other hand, these sensations are not obvious and show themselves from time to time in the Allegro, as well as in the splendid central Romanza that presents a poignant closure of the sweet melodic theme. The balance of the concerto, made of contrasts between different colors, is then supported by the final episode, a lively, festive, and open Allegro tempo that closes the listening with a smile.

The last concerto on the album K. 495 (1786) has the curious characteristic of being written by Mozart using four different colors for the notes on the sheet music: red, green, blue, and black. Some think it is yet another joke towards his friend Leutgeb, while others believe the writing hides a certain code. Perhaps we will never know the truth, but listening is enough to console us, listening that compared to the previous concerts has the value of hiding a different expressive force. In the first two movements (Allegro maestoso, Romanza: andante cantabile), there prevails a greater intimacy, designed with a refinement that induces the listener to let themselves be lulled by the muted sound of the Horn. The closure entrusted to the Rondò: allegro vivace, on the other hand, presents a measured dynamism, less playful than other works, but still able to create a high and substantial emotional involvement. And this completely charms the listener, who, like a fox on the run, is ultimately captured and ensnared by the last and most beautiful hunt dictated by the sound of the horn.