Flute Quartet in D major K.285 (1777)

arranged for recorder by Michala Petri

Allegro

Adagio -

Rondeau

The recorder having fallen out of use before his time, Mozart probably knew little about the instrument, still less whether he like the sound of it. But even if he hadn’t liked it, offered the right terms he might well have written music for it. Certainly, while he claimed to dislike the flute - “an instrument I detest,” he told his father - he did undertake to provide a rich amateur flautist in Mannheim in 1788 with three concertos and four quartets. Although he failed to complete the task, he did at least start on it with some enthusiasm, as the Quartet in D, which was written within a few days of receiving the commission, seems to confirm.

The opening Allegro is not only briskly business-like but also melodically abundant, offering twice as many themes as it strictly needs. Its lightly contrapuntal textures are deftly scored and instrumental colouring is imaginatively applied, above all in the sustained solo phrases poised over undulating strings on a decrescendo at the end of the exposition. It is difficult to believe that the composer really detested the instrument for which he writes so captivatingly, to the delicate accompaniment of pizzicato strings, in the central Adagio. Though a short slow movement, it is also in its B minor melancholy unique in Mozart’s chamber music. It leads directly without a break (but perhaps by way of a cadenza) into the Rondeau finale. Based on a vaguely exotic main theme, it is as fertile in melody as the first movement and, given the idiomatic prominence of the viola in the second episode, even more resourcefully scored.

Rondeau

Mozart’s attitude to the flute was, at best, ambiguous. His declaration to his father, in a letter home from Mannheim in 1778, that it was “an instrument that I detest” seems to leave little room for doubt. But, as Leopold immediately realised, Wolfgang was making excuses for failing to fulfil the terms of a commission and for losing more than half his fee in consequence: he didn’t have the time, he wasn’t in the mood, he didn’t like the flute - and, as he did not say, he was distracted by a growing passion for Aloysia Weber. Certainly, having been asked by an amateur flautist to write three concertos and four quartets, he lost interest in the project before completing it. But, as for “detesting” the instrument, there is little evidence of that in the music itself, least of all in the Quartet in D major.

Written within days of Ferdinand Dejean placing his commission, the Quartet in D is of such quality as to confirm that it was written before disillusion, or distraction, set in. The opening Allegro is not only briskly business-like but also melodically abundant, offering twice as many themes as it strictly needs. Its lightly contrapuntal textures are deftly scored and instrumental colouring is imaginatively applied, above all in the sustained flute phrases poised over undulating strings on a decrescendo at the end of the exposition. Similarly, it is difficult to believe that the composer who writes so captivatingly for flute to the delicate accompaniment of pizzicato strings in the central Adagio didn’t actually relish its B minor melancholy. It leads directly without a break (but perhaps by way of a cadenza) into the Rondeau finale which, in spite of its French title, is an early approximation to the Viennese sonata-rondo in form. Based on a vaguely exotic (or, in the terminology of the day, “Turkish”) main theme, it is as fertile in melody as the first movement and, given the idiomatic prominence of the viola in the second episode, even more resourcefully scored.

Rondeau

Mozart’s attitude to the flute was, at best, ambiguous. His declaration to his father, in a letter home from Mannheim in 1778, that it was “an instrument that I detest” seems to leave little room for doubt. But, as Leopold immediately realised, Wolfgang was making excuses for failing to fulfil the terms of a commission and for losing more than half his fee in consequence: he didn’t have the time, he wasn’t in the mood, he didn’t like the flute - and, as he did not say, he was distracted by his interest in Aloysia Weber. Having been asked by Ferdinand Dejean, an amateur flautist in Mannhiem, to write three concertos and four quartets, he had written a new Flute Concerto in G, had recycled his Oboe Concerto in C as a Flute Concerto in D and had completed only two or three of the quartets. Had he really enjoyed writing for the flute he would no doubt have got to work on the commission with his usual application. But, as for “detesting” the instrument, there is little evidence of that in the music itself, least of all in the Quartet in D major.

Completed within days of the Dejean commission coming Mozart’s way in Mannheim, the Quartet in D is of such quality as to confirm that it was written before disillusion, or distraction, set in. The opening Allegro is not only briskly business-like but also melodically abundant, offering twice as many themes as it strictly needs. Its lightly contrapuntal textures are deftly scored and instrumental colouring is imaginatively applied, above all in the sustained flute phrases poised over undulating strings on a decrescendo at the end of the exposition. The harmonically intriguing development section concentrates on the two first-subject themes, one of which is surprisingly recalled after what, by analogy with the exposition, seems to be the end of the movement.

It is difficult to believe that the composer who writes so captivatingly for flute to the delicate accompaniment of pizzicato strings in the central Adagio detested the instrument. Though a short slow movement, it is also in its B minor melancholy unique in Mozart’s chamber music. It leads directly without a break (but perhaps by way of a cadenza) into the Rondeau finale which, in spite of its French title, is an early approximation to the Viennese sonata-rondo in form. Based on a vaguely exotic (or, in the terminology of the day, “Turkish”) main theme, it is as fertile in melody as the first movement and, given the idiomatic prominence of the viola in the second episode, even more resourcefully scored.