It is now customary to speak of Mozart’s Sonatas for keyboard as his “piano” sonatas; and yet this common attribution is somewhat misleading in limiting our understanding of Mozart’s sonorities. We also commonly hear his Sonatas on the concert stage; and this is, in turn, a form of perfectly legitimate enjoyment of his exquisite works, but also a de-contextualization which deprives them of their ideal setting.
Mozart was a virtuoso of the keyboard, even though he could also play the violin and viola at a very high level. His keyboard performances earned him his early fame, dating from the time of his childhood tours in the European courts. They also continued to sustain both his finances and his reputation: he organized subscription events in which he played his Concertos and earned, at the same time, the money he frequently and rather desperately needed, and the success which could result in the operatic commissions he ardently desired.
However, if – possibly – the ideal instrument for the performance of his mature keyboard Concertos is the fortepiano, the very different qualities of the clavichord may be the best suited to his Sonatas, whose public dimension is markedly less pronounced. True, in Mozart’s Concertos there is more dialogue than rivalry between the soloist and the orchestra, and frequently the sound of the fortepiano is purposefully designed so that it can merge effortlessly with the orchestral sounds; however, on other occasions, the soloist must stand out against the background of the accompanying instruments, and display his or her virtuosity with a brilliance typical of the theatrical stage. By contrast, the clavichord has a more limited dynamic range, but its very peculiar mechanism allows – and demands – precise control of sound, shading and touch.
It is an instrument which gives its best in a small room, where the performer is either alone or surrounded by a few other people; ideally, this very restricted audience should include connoisseurs who can delight in the player’s refinement, in the capacity for subtle variations in ornamentation and phrasing, in the details which only a true music lover can grasp and appreciate.
It is not by chance, therefore, that several of the pieces recorded on this Da Vinci Classics CD can tell us stories of Mozart’s social life, of his relationships and of his acquaintances. While a Concerto, similar to a theatrical play or operatic work, should speak to all kinds of listeners and powerfully impress them, a Sonata, similar to a one-to-one conversation, can and should be adapted to the interlocutor’s sensitivity and receptiveness. These interlocutors could be Mozart’s actual or prospective patrons – music-loving patricians who delighted in both hearing and playing the clavichord –, but also his students and his friends.
Mozart was approaching his nineteenth birthday when he wrote the F-major Sonata, KV 280, dated by the current Köchel catalogue to his stay in Munich between January and March 1775. He was preparing a kind of portfolio, showcasing his ability in both composition and performance: these works offered him an opportunity to impress listeners during his stay in Munich in the winter of 1774–1775. The marks of his individuality and personality are of course clearly distinguishable; yet, the originality of his musical thought is not diminished if we pause to observe his equally evident reliance on authoritative models, such as those provided by Italian keyboard composers such as Galuppi and Sammartini or German-speaking musicians such as Johann Christian Bach and Franz Joseph Haydn.
In particular, Mozart’s F-major Sonata seems visibly to be inspired by Haydn’s Sonata Hob. XVI/23, which is also in F major and dates from 1773. This affinity reflects Mozart’s close engagement with Haydn’s keyboard idiom. The analogies are particularly striking in the second movement, a Siciliano which gives us a glimpse of many other touching movements of the same kind, written by Mozart in the following years. One has only to think of the slow movement of the A-major Concerto KV 488, or of Pamina’s Ach, ich fühl’s, to acknowledge the subtle fascination exercised by this slow dance in the minor mode on Mozart’s creative fantasy. This is by no means the only dance found in this Sonata, however: the opening measures are manifestly inspired by the most solemn of the court Minuets, while the third movement can be likened to a Gigue. The Adagio also bears an uncanny resemblance to a work traditionally attributed to J. S. Bach, the Siciliano BWV 1031, though it is improbable that Mozart could know it at that time.
The F-major Sonata belongs to Mozart’s early set of six keyboard sonatas, which also includes the D-major Sonata KV 284 associated with Baron von Dürnitz; however, in the following years Mozart would either play it for, or give it to other people to play whose relationship to him was certainly not that of patronage. In 1777, Mozart played it in the house of Christian Cannabich in Mannheim; and in 1778, he wrote to his father that a certain Aloysia Weber, a famous singer, had played it perfectly (if somewhat slowly) at sight, and that he preferred her playing to that of the Mannheim Vice-Kapellmeister. The grounds for Mozart’s preference may have been not entirely musical, however, since – as is well known – Mozart was passionately in love with Aloysia, even though he would later marry her sister Constanze. By contrast, Cannabich was one of Mozart’s friends, and was defined by the composer as the finest orchestra conductor he had ever heard. Cannabich had a son, Carl, who was just six years old when Mozart visited their household (and who would follow in his father’s footsteps), and a daughter, Rose, who was thirteen and played the keyboard. Mozart liked Rose, whom he described as “calm and judicious”; she gave him an “indescribable satisfaction” when she played one of his Sonatas “perfectly”. This was the C-major Sonata KV 309 (1777), which Mozart allegedly improvised at the Cannabichs’ (and which he modestly described as “magnificent”); its second movement, in Mozart’s words, is a portrait of Rose. It certainly mirrors the girl’s reflective and profound mood; and it has been argued that the words “Rose Cannabich” can also be sung on the notes of this movement’s main theme.
Another young woman was probably the intended performer of the D-major Sonata KV 576, written by Mozart in 1789 and allegedly conceived for Princess Friederike Charlotte, daughter of King Frederick William II of Prussia. Though she was already 22 when Mozart visited the Prussian court, she was – as many people of her social class – an amateur performer with rather limited musical skills. Since Mozart wrote to a friend that he was composing a set of “easy” pieces for the Princess, several scholars have cast doubts on the inclusion of this sonata in the projected collection, since it is certainly not a piece for beginners. Its brilliant triadic opening has earned it the nickname of “Hunt Sonata” in the English-speaking countries, due to its resemblance to hunting-horn calls; however, its most notable feature is its contrapuntal complexity and refinement. In this case – different from KV 280 – the influence of J. S. Bach is direct and evident: Mozart had been studying closely the works by Bach and Händel, also encouraged by Baron Gottfried von Swieten who was a passionate collector and appreciator of Baroque works.
This sonata became Mozart’s last completed keyboard sonata. The Allegro KV 312, also included on this CD and dated by the current Köchel catalogue to Vienna between 1789 and 1791, may have been intended as the first movement of an unfinished sonata. Its relative simplicity might qualify it for inclusion in the projected set for Princess Friederike: a collection which Mozart regarded as a provider of economic security and as a guarantee that could have secured him the funds he sorely needed. Indeed, writing to his friend and fellow freemason Puchberg, from whom he hoped to borrow money, Mozart explicitly mentioned the composition of keyboard Sonatas as a rather safe source of income. Even though our romantic concept of the musician as a free creator, unconstrained by any external factors, may be shaken by such a seemingly utilitarian view of the artistic work, the mark of a genius is precisely in his or her capability to realize masterpieces almost at will: in spite of its relative simplicity and of the unpoetic circumstances of its creation, this Allegro is a true neglected gem. It was not only the intended sonata that Mozart left unfinished, however: the Allegro itself remained incomplete and was subsequently completed by an anonymous nineteenth-century composer: the fragment was fortunately preserved also thanks to Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy, who collected it, along with other valuable autographs, in order to present it to his bride-to-be. In the key of G-minor (an iconic and psychologically charged key for Mozart), the Allegro is rich in diminished sevenths and dynamic contrasts, which confer a rich emotional palette to a piece whose technical challenges are limited.
All of these features find their ideal rendition in the clavichord’s sound, in its potential for a detailed shading and in its freedom from grandiose rhetoric or showy virtuosity. Played on this instrument, Mozart’s Sonatas and his Allegro reveal their innermost qualities, their touching beauty, their expressive power. This recording, thus, is a valuable opportunity for listening with new ears to works that are very frequently performed, yet perhaps also often misunderstood.
Album notes by Chiara Bertoglio
The instrument: Potvlieghe Saxon clavichord, 2018
Contrary to what one might assume, the construction of historical keyboard instruments today is not limited to making copies of surviving models.
In 2018, Joris Potvlieghe made a Saxon clavichord for me following a long discussion about the instrument I wanted.
I knew that Joris was an outstanding maker of Saxon clavichords. What most convinced me about his approach was that, alongside making copies, he had developed a distinctive personal style that continued to evolve while remaining firmly rooted in the great tradition of Saxon clavichord makers, especially Friederici, Silbermann and Horn.
I had asked Joris for a particularly sonorous instrument. Historical accounts describe very large clavichords capable even of accompanying singers. At the same time, I wanted a distinctive singing voice and flexibility of tone, qualities that can sometimes be lacking in very large clavichords.
These discussions resulted in the creation of this magnificent clavichord.
The instrument is unfretted and has a five-octave compass. Its pitch varies seasonally between A = 392 Hz and A = 408 Hz. In its fundamental design, it follows the models made by Saxon builders in the 1770s.
Instrument notes by Giovanni De Cecco.
Recording and production
Recorded in July 2018 by Gianluca Zanin at Artigian Studio, Preganziol, Italy. Production, design and art direction by Da Vinci Publishing. DDD. Designed in Japan; printed in the European Union. Photography: Francesco Barasciutti.