Symphony No.41 in C major, K.551

Symphony No.41 in C major, K.551 (450)

Allegro vivace; Andante cantabile; Menuetto: allegretto; Molto allegro

If Mozart had been aware of the “Jupiter” nickname now inseparably attached to his last symphony he might well have been flattered but not entirely pleased. It originated, apparently, with J.P. Salomon, the impresario who brought Haydn to London and who would have brought Mozart too if he could. In spite of its distinguished provenance, however, while it is certainly justified by the mastery of the last movement, it is misleading when applied to the symphony as a whole. As far as the composer was concerned, it was just another symphony, the last of a set of three written for a specific professional purpose in less than two months in the summer of 1788. While it was clearly intended as the culmination of the set, Mozart cannot have known that it would be his last and supreme achievement as a symphonist.

The trouble with elevating the Symphony in C to the ultimate Olympian level is that it diverts attention from the wit and the sheer joy in the work. The opening Allegro vivace is particularly entertaining. Beginning impressively with assertive trumpets and drums opposed to diffident first violins, it develops an incongruous obsession with a little tune - from Un baccio di mano, an arietta Mozart had recently written for insertion in an opera by another composer - innocently introduced by violins towards the end of the exposition. Its tenacious presence excludes the legitimate second subject from the development and leaves little room even for the main theme.

There is nothing Olympian about the Andante cantabile. In the notable absence of trumpets and drums, it is an essentially intimate expression of serenity in F major, in spite of anxious episodes associated with the minor harmonies, syncopated rhythms and dramatic colouring of the second subject. It is true, on the other hand, that the Menuetto is not quite as innocent as it seems. Its chromatically inflected first theme is a variant of the hitherto undeveloped second subject of the first movement and at the same time, in both the minuet and the central Trio section, there are clear anticipations of the Finale.

As for Molto allegro itself, it is certainly Olympian in its masterful display of baroque counterpoint in a symphonic context. It is no less witty for that, however. While ingeniously simulating a fugue - beginning with the five imitative entries in the strings just after the introduction of the main theme - he actually avoids going through with it, so as to make room for the second subject, development and recapitulation of the regular classical finale. The contrapuntal spectacular is reserved for the coda where, as all five main themes are combined in one brilliantly integrated texture, it has maximum structural value.

Like most nicknames attached to classical symphonies, “Jupiter”was not the composer’s idea. According to Mozart’s son, the title was invented by J.P. Salomon, the impresario who brought Haydn to London and who would have brought Mozart too if he could. For Mozart this was just another symphony, the last of a set of three written for a specific professional purpose in less than two months in the summer of 1788.

Whatever that purpose was - subscription concerts in Vienna, perhaps, or even a projected foreign tour - Mozart was naturally concerned that each of the three works should have a distinctive character. That, surely, is why he wrote a symphony in a minor key between two in the major, the last of them longer and grander than the others.

The trouble with elevating the Symphony in C to the ultimate Olympian level - as though Mozart could have known that it would be his last great achievement as a symphonist - is that it diverts attention from the wit and the sheer joy in the work. The opening Allegro vivace is particularly entertaining in that respect. Beginning impressively with assertive trumpets and drums opposed to diffident first violins, it turns quite naturally if unexpectedly to a lyrical second subject for strings alone. But just before the end of the exposition, after a dramatic outburst in C minor and a short pause, there is the incongruously comic intervention of a tune from Un baccio di mano, an arietta Mozart had recently written for insertion in an opera by another composer. The incongruity is extended into a development section which is at first interested exclusively in Un baccio di mano. It is only by simulating the beginning of a recapitulation that the first subject is able to gain entry into the discussion. The second subject is not developed at all.

There is nothing Olympian about the Andante cantabile. In the notable absence of trumpets and drums, it is an essentially intimate expression of serenity in F major. Although there are anxious episodes associated with the minor harmonies, syncopated rhythms and dramatic colouring of the second subject, they serve to heighten rather than to undermine the security of the mellifluous exchanges of melody between woodwind and muted strings.

It is true, on the other hand, that the Menuetto is not quite as innocent as it seems. Its chromatically inflected first theme is a variant (in inversion) of the hitherto undeveloped second subject of the first movement. At the same time, in a canonic passage for woodwind towards the end of the minuet and in a melodic line drawn with significant emphasis in the middle of the central Trio section, there are clear anticipations of the Finale.

As for Molto allegro itself, it is certainly Olympian in its masterful combination of baroque fugal structure with the function of a classical symphonic finale. It would be a mistake, however, to be distracted by its apparently symbolic qualities from its true inspiration - which is the composer’s exuberant joy in his virtuosity. At the same time, whatever the complexity of the texture, he is always concerned to preserve a firmly defined sonata-form outline. So, while there is no formal fugue (in spite of the five imitative entries in the strings just after the introduction of the first subject) there is a distinct second subject followed by similarly clear development and recapitulation sections. The contrapuntal spectacular is reserved for the coda where, as all five main themes are combined in one brilliantly integrated texture, it has maximum structural value.

Gerald Larner©

Like most nicknames attached to classical symphonies, “Jupiter”was not the composer’s idea. According to Mozart’s son, the title was invented by J.P. Salomon, the impresario who brought Haydn to London and who would have brought Mozart too if he could. For Mozart this was just another symphony, the last of a set of three written for a specific professional purpose in less than two months in the summer of 1788.

Whatever that purpose was - subscription concerts in Vienna, perhaps, or even a foreign tour - Mozart was naturally concerned that each of the three works should have a distinctive character. That, surely, is why he wrote a symphony in a minor key between two in the major, the last of them longer and grander than the others. It is just as misleading to attribute specially lofty Olympian ambitions to the Symphony in C major as it is to assume that the composer was in a particularly unhappy mood when he wrote the Symphony in G minor.

The trouble with taking the Symphony in C too seriously - as though Mozart could have known that it would be his last great achievement as a symphonist - is that it diverts attention from the wit and the sheer joy in the work. The opening Allegro vivace is particularly entertaining in that respect. Beginning impressively with assertive trumpets and drums opposed to diffident first violins, it turns quite naturally if unexpectedly to a lyrical second subject for strings alone. But just before the end of the exposition, after a dramatic outburst in C minor and a short pause, there is the incongruously comic intervention of a tune from Un baccio di mano, an arietta Mozart had recently written for insertion in an opera by another composer. The incongruity is extended into a development section which is at first interested exclusively in Un baccio di mano. It is only by simulating the beginning of a recapitulation (in F rather than C major) that the first subject is able to gain entry into the discussion. The second subject is not developed at all.

There is nothing Olympian about the Andante cantabile. In the notable absence of trumpets and drums, it is an essentially intimate expression of serenity in F major. Although there are anxious episodes associated with the minor harmonies, syncopated rhythms and dramatic colouring of the second subject, they serve to heighten rather than to undermine the security of the mellifluous exchanges of melody between woodwind and muted strings.

It is true, on the other hand, that the Menuetto is not quite as innocent as it seems. Its chromatically inflected first theme is a variant (in inversion) of the hitherto undeveloped second subject of the first movement. At the same time, in a canonic passage for woodwind towards the end of the minuet and in a melodic line drawn with significant emphasis in the middle of the central Trio section, there are clear anticipations of the Finale.

As for Molto allegro itself, it is certainly Olympian in its masterful combination of baroque fugal structure with the function of a classical symphonic finale. It would be a mistake, however, to be distracted by its apparently symbolic qualities from its true inspiration - which is the composer’s exuberant joy in his virtuosity. Whatever the complexity of the texture, he is always concerned, moreover, to preserve a firmly defined sonata-form outline. So, while there is no formal fugue (in spite of the five imitative entries in the strings just after the introduction of the first subject) there is a distinct second subject followed by similarly clear development and recapitulation sections. The contrapuntal spectacular is reserved for the coda where, as all five main themes are combined in one brilliantly integrated texture, it has maximum structural value.

Gerald Larner©