Composer: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Born in Salzburg, Austria in 1756; died in Vienna, Austria in 1791)
Work composed: 1775
World premiere: Christmas season in 1775 in Salzburg, Austria (Mozart may have been the violin soloist)
Instrumentation: solo violin, 2 oboes, (occasionally a bassoon is added to bolster the bass string parts), 2 horns, strings
Violin Concerto No. 5 in A Major, “Turkish,” K. 219
I. Allegro aperto
II. Adagio
III. Rondo – Tempo di menuetto
Mozart’s legacy as one of the great composers in Western music is indisputable. He’s also remembered as one of the great keyboard virtuosos of his times, although his great talent as a violinist is often forgotten. But in his youth, Mozart was a superb violinist. Several accounts exist of his exceptional abilities, and as Mozart began reaching his teens, his father Leopold often reminded Wolfgang of his extraordinary potential as a virtuoso violinist. Nonetheless, according to his father, Mozart “hung his violin on a nail” after he left Salzburg in 1781 for Vienna, where he focused mainly on composing and keyboard performance as his Viennese audiences wanted.
It was while the young Mozart still lived in Salzburg and still performed as a violinist working for the Archbishop Coloredo that he wrote his five violin concertos. The final four of them were written in the last half of 1775, with No. 5 completed and premiered in late December of that year. It’s highly likely, given his multiple duties as court concertmaster, conductor, and composer that he had to fulfill for his post in Salzburg, that Mozart himself premiered all of the concerti as soloist, and possibly also as the conductor. As is often remarked about the genius of Mozart, these concerti were written when he was not quite 20-years old. Even for his youth, the last four violin concerti show Mozart maturing speedily as a composer – gaining confidence and applying adventure to his writing and pushing and developing the boundaries of the Classical Era concerto. No. 5 has always been the most popular of Mozart’s violin concerti, and it indeed shows a young composer mastering – and being playful – with his ideas.
The first movement, Allegro aperto (fast and “frank” or “open”), begins with just orchestra, as was customary, playing the main theme of the movement. Played by the strings with the melody in the violins, that theme is merry and uncomplicated, moving up the scale in small intervals at first, and then continuing with some rhythmic contrast and syncopations (playing off of the main beats). The winds support the strings in this opening theme, and, in all, it’s delightfully tuneful and light-hearted. Typically, in this Classical concerto structure, the violin would enter next, but here is where Mozart unveils something marvelous. After the first section comes to a normal pause, a longer-than-usual silence hangs in the air. When the solo violin does enter for the first time, Mozart has, very untraditionally, slowed the tempo way down to Adagio (slowly). The first two notes of the soloist’s entry are completely alone, giving the sense that this may simply be a delayed start for the violinist’s virtuosity, like winding up an engine. But on the third beat, the solo continues on with its quiet reverie as the orchestral violins creep softly in as its accompaniment. The soaring solo violin then floats gently over the quiet burbling of the orchestral strings, with soft chords appearing in the winds. This moment is as sweet and magical as anything Mozart had yet created, but he does not allow it to continue long, for it only lasts a brief six measures. The Allegro aperto then returns, picking up the energy and tempo. The remainder of the movement sparkles with joyousness and songfulness, and the solo part for violin is demanding. The soloist must apply exceptional technical agility with a light and airy touch, as well as play with convincing lyricism. After a delightful cadenza, where all of these demands are required simultaneously, the movement ends in high spirits.
The second movement, Adagio (slowly), is graceful and warmly expressive. Mozart invents some wonderful musical moments in this movement with the use of rich writing for the woodwinds, and effective blending of the solo violin with the orchestral strings. Brief flashes of enchantment happen here and there, such as at about two-and-a-half minutes into the movement. Here, Mozart creates a delightful few bars with the upper orchestral strings playing delicate offbeat figures over the steady beats provided by the lower strings, and over this musical hip swaying, the soloist ascends in song. Most unusual, however, is that this movement contains a cadenza. Mozart never committed any of his performed cadenzas to paper – but the great 19th Century violin virtuoso, Josef Joachim (1831 – 1907), did so for each of the three movements in No. 5. Joachim’s cadenzas are the ones typically performed, and his cadenza in this Adagio is particularly lyrical and dreamy.
The last movement, Rondo – Tempo di menuetto (at waltzing speed), begins with tuneful and dignified dance music, called a Menuet, which was a popular waltz-like dance form enjoyed at courtly and wealthy gatherings during Mozart’s time. At about three-and-a-half minutes, however, the music changes its feel dramatically, and Mozart produces the second big surprise of the Concerto. The music becomes faster and more aggressive in volume with a wavering motive oscillating between pitches in the strings and winds. Audiences in 1775 must have been shocked, and gleefully amused, to then suddenly hear the two horns mimicking a hornpipe drone (like a bagpipe playing two long-held notes, over which a melody will be played), and to then hear the solo violin enter with folk-like fiddling. In the 1750’s, the exotic fiddle-folk music of Romani influenced Turkish music was extremely popular in Europe – Mozart was also clearly enchanted by it. This great surprise is what earned this Concerto the nickname “Turkish” when it was published after Mozart’s death and is one of the many reasons it’s so beloved. This lengthy middle section’s music grows with swagger and energy; soon, the lower orchestral strings will play col legno (with the wood side of the bows playing on the strings) to recreate the sound of stomping and slapping. This is followed by some high drama where the soloist and the orchestral strings play chromatic sequences slithering upwards, and then slithering downwards. These sections will repeat, but eventually lead to this finale’s cadenza, in which the soloist will migrate from the gypsy fiddling back to the refinement of the Menuet music. The movement then dances gracefully to its ending bars, with a bit of a mischievous grin.