Mozart’s Symphony No. 40

A Note From Kevin

Hi friends,

Our full orchestra is 75 players, and I love what we can do with it. But a huge amount of the greatest music ever written — Bach, Haydn, Mozart, Schubert — was composed for a much smaller band. Play it with the full FSO and you lose what makes it special. Skip it, and some of the finest music in the repertoire just sits on the shelf.

So on Saturday, we’re doing it right. For Bach and Mozart, we trim the orchestra down to the size these composers actually wrote for, then bring the full FSO back after intermission for Tchaikovsky. Our musicians get to play music they’d rarely touch in the full ensemble, and you get to hear it the way the composers imagined it.

One night, three orchestras: eleven players for Bach, a Classical-sized orchestra for Mozart, and all of us for Tchaikovsky.

The Thread Running Through This Season

If you read September’s guide, you already know my little secret: this season’s masterworks are all connected by psychological drama — music that doesn’t just tell a story, but plays out a state of mind. The idea grabbed me during last season’s Swan Lake and never let go.

Tchaikovsky’s Fourth kicked us off with fate and the fight against it. Mozart’s 40th is stop number two, and it’s a sneakier one. On the surface it’s elegant, polished, perfectly Classical. But of Mozart’s forty-plus symphonies, only two are in a minor key — and both are in G minor. When Mozart goes there, he means it. Something underneath this music isn’t right, and it never fully settles. From here it’s Rachmaninoff’s Second Piano Concerto in February, then Beethoven’s Ninth in May — the big one, where this whole season lands.

So don’t hear Mozart 40 as just another “greatest hit.” Hear it as chapter two.

Inside the Rehearsal Room

Here’s what nobody tells you about Mozart 40: it’s very hard to play well. And with a smaller string section, there’s nowhere to hide.

And think about where we just were. A few weeks ago we opened the season with the 1812 Overture, Tchaikovsky’s Fourth, and Copland’s Rodeo — full orchestra, big brass, cannons, the works. That music rewards weight: long, heavy bows, wide vibrato, and dynamics that go all the way up. Mozart asks for almost the opposite. There are no trumpets and no timpani in this symphony, so there’s nothing loud to lean on. Bows get lighter and shorter, notes need space between them, vibrato becomes a color instead of a default, and forte means something much smaller than it did in September.

That switch doesn’t happen overnight. The same players who were digging into Tchaikovsky in September now have to play with the clarity and restraint of a chamber group — listening across the stage to each other instead of just playing out. It’s one of the best things that can happen to an orchestra. Mozart keeps you honest.

The opening alone eats up a lot of rehearsal time. Before the melody even arrives, the divided violas are already pulsing underneath in restless eighth notes. Too loud and they bury the violins. Too soft and the unease disappears. That accompaniment has to sit in a very narrow window — and if it’s off, the whole character of the piece is off before the first phrase is even finished.

The other big one is the third movement. It’s labeled a minuet, but Mozart builds it in three-bar phrases and throws accents across the bar line, so the dance never sits comfortably in three. Then he adds canonic writing on top of that, with the bass line chasing the melody. We take it apart slowly, section by section, until the whole orchestra feels that cross-rhythm as one idea instead of a puzzle. It’s one of the quietly hardest passages we’ll play all year.

One more nerdy note: we’re playing Mozart’s revised version, the one with clarinets. He went back and added them, and they warm up the wind sound in a way I really love.

What to Listen For

I. Molto allegro

No introduction. No big opening chord. Just the violas pulsing and the violins slipping in with that sighing, falling figure — like you walked in mid-sentence. You’ll recognize it instantly. Then listen for the second theme: warmer, more lyrical, a little bit of relief. Mozart spends the rest of the movement pitting those two moods against each other, and neither one really wins.

II. Andante

A breather. The tension of the first movement gives way to something slower and tender, now in E-flat major. But don’t just follow the tune — listen to the inner voices. Mozart weaves countermelodies underneath the tune, and with our smaller forces they come through with real clarity. This is the movement where less really is more.

III. Menuetto: Allegretto

The minuet was supposed to be the politest dance of the 18th century. Mozart’s isn’t polite. It’s stern and off-balance, with accents landing in the “wrong” places and phrases overlapping like they’re arguing. Then the Trio, in G major, opens a window: gentle and sunny, with the winds and horns taking the spotlight. Enjoy it while it lasts — the stern minuet comes right back.

IV. Allegro assai

The finale bursts open with a “Mannheim rocket” — a theme that shoots straight up the notes of the G minor chord. Then hang on. At the start of the development, Mozart does something wild for 1788: a jagged unison passage that runs through eleven of the twelve notes of the chromatic scale — everything except G, the home key itself. For a few seconds the music completely loses its footing. He does find his way home, but notice where home is: G minor. No happy ending, no tidy resolution. That’s the psychological drama.

See You on the 24th

Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 opens the night, Mozart follows, and after intermission Timothy Chooi joins us for Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto. It’s a big night. I’ll see you there.

One last thing before Saturday. Timothy is one of the finest violinists in the world — and he also has a sense of humor. Watch him disguise himself as a student and walk into a real Korean high school competition, then see how long it takes the jury to figure it out:

▶ Watch: Professional Violinist Goes Undercover at a Korean High School Exam

Classical’s Greatest Hits is generously sponsored by Mary Jane and Ronald Branscome.