While Mozart’s final days have been immortalized in fictionalized accounts like Peter Shaffer’s play Amadeus, the facts alone tell a story that needs no added drama. Three years away from his legendary burial in a common grave, Mozart was in desperate financial straits. The family’s extravagant tastes and the need to present a particular image to potential patrons had sunk them deep into debt as the wartime economy severely curtailed cultural activities, including the opportunity for commissions. Don Giovanni had just failed in Vienna, despite its warm reception in Prague, and Mozart seemed to be losing favor with the Viennese public. No longer able to afford city rent, Mozart had to find less expensive lodgings in the suburbs—and by June 1788, the composer was begging for money. Amid this personal chaos, Mozart produced some of his finest work. During the summer of 1788, in the breathtakingly short span of about six weeks, he composed his final three symphonies: No. 39, No. 40, and No. 41, the Jupiter. 

Mozart’s final symphonic trilogy raises two key questions. Why did Mozart write these works? He may have intended to revive his subscription concert series, which began soon after he arrived in Vienna in 1781 and ended in the spring of 1786. It is also possible—although highly unlikely— that he was simply inspired to create the symphonies. Second, did the works ever debut during Mozart’s lifetime? There were several occasions at which one or more of the symphonies may have been performed. In 1790, Mozart went to Frankfort to attend the festivities surrounding Austrian Emperor Leopold II’s coronation as Holy Roman Emperor and presented a concert that included an unnamed symphony. And in April 1791, a charity concert benefiting ailing and elderly Viennese musicians, their spouses, and children featured “a large new symphony” by Mozart. What the final symphonies show without a doubt, however, is that Mozart had no idea they were to be his last. As Daniel Heartz writes, “By adding three grand symphonies to his portfolio in the summer of 1788, the composer was thinking ahead to future concert seasons, and not just those in Vienna.”  

It is easy to hear the tragic circumstances of Mozart’s final days echoing in the poignant motives of the Symphony No. 40 in G Minor. The melancholy mood—combined with the lack of specific information about the circumstances of their composition—has contributed to the view that the symphonies are the final cathartic act of a tortured genius. Unlike the nineteenth century, however, when composers wrote music for personal fulfillment, composers in the Classical era were typically writing for a specific patron, and there are a few indications that the G Minor Symphony was indeed performed. Moreover, Mozart later revised the work, adding clarinets and altering the oboe parts, which would likely have been in response to a specific performance situation.  

Despite the lack of evidence, it is tempting to imagine that the Symphony in G Minor is at heart an outpouring of Mozart’s personal anguish. From the very beginning of the Molto allegro, the mysterious-sounding theme establishes the melancholy, restless mood that permeates the symphony, and the dramatic development of the motive further heightens the tension. Although the gentle second theme initially serves as a welcome contrast, its reiteration in the minor mode at the end of the movement alters its first impression considerably. The lyrical beauty of the Andante is shot through with subtly pulsing undercurrents that frequently culminate in heartrending climaxes. In the third movement, brooding, sinister music replaces the traditional charm of the courtly minuet, while the trio’s overtly major mode and bucolic charm sound almost disingenuous in contrast with the outer minuet sections. The concluding Allegro assai reinforces the tragic mood, its occasional moments of lighthearted humor and optimism ultimately subsumed within the forceful reiterations of the minor key that complete the work.