WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART (1756-1791)
Clarinet Concerto in A, K. 622
September 14, 2025: “SINGERS” FROM THE MET ORCHESTRA
BRAD GEMEINHARDT, HORN WILLIAM SHORT, BASSOON
ANTON RIST, CLARINET MUSICIANS FROM THE MET ORCHESTRA
Mozart composed his Clarinet Concerto for his friend and fellow Freemason Anton Stadler, who played in the imperial court orchestra in Vienna and whose playing was admired far and wide. Mozart’s relationship with Stadler has always fascinated historians. The clarinetist constantly borrowed money from his friend, who could ill afford to lend it. Once Mozart loaned him two watches to pawn and, when Mozart also loaned him the money to redeem them, he spent that as well, so Mozart permanently lost his watches. The composer’s widow Constanze reported that Stadler also stole silver from them! Stadler’s great artistry, charming personality, lively conversation, and membership in the Masonic order more than outweighed his sponging ways in Mozart’s eyes—for which we have some of the composer’s loveliest music as testament. Not only the Concerto, but the wonderful Clarinet Quintet and the obbligato solos in two of the arias in La clemenza di Tito were written for specifically Stadler.
Stadler was especially known for his expressive playing in the “chalumeau” or lower register of the clarinet and had a special clarinet made for him by Theodor Lotz, another Freemason, that extended the lower range of the normal clarinet in A. Though Mozart’s original manuscripts for both the Clarinet Concerto and the Quintet no longer survive—Stadler is thought to have pawned or sold them—scholars have discovered that both were written for this extended range instrument, and have been able to reconstruct “original” versions of both. “Parto, parto” from La clemenza di Tito was also written with this special clarinet in mind. (Modern reconstructions of this instruments have resulted in replicas known as “basset clarinets.”)
The Clarinet Concerto actually began as a Concerto in G major for basset horn (crescent-shaped alto clarinet). Mozart completed 199 measures of the first movement before deciding that it should really be written for the higher clarinet in A (with the extended range) and started over in A major. Completed in October 1791, just two months before his death, the Clarinet Concerto stands as one of the true gems of the clarinet repertoire, exploring every range of the instrument, from high to low and from poignant lyricism to agile merriment.
The first movement shows the abundance of melodic ideas that we have come to expect from Mozart, here with a kind of luminous lyricism rather than impassioned energy. The tone quality is colored by Mozart’s light orchestration that includes no oboes and naturally no clarinets, but in which the flutes impart a limpid beauty. The dialogue between the clarinet and orchestra is masterful—often harmonious, occasionally competitive. Of particular note is the imitative play between the strings, joined by the clarinet, in elaborating the first theme even before the main solo entrance of the clarinet. Another fascinating passage has the clarinet playing an Alberti bass (broken chord pattern) in its lowest register in accompaniment to witty repartee between the first and second violins. Mozart’s recapitulation is a model of concision after the more expansive exposition and development.
Words cannot possibly do justice to Mozart’s sublime slow movement, one of his simplest yet most profound utterances. The clarinet “sings” the melody to a tranquil rocking accompaniment and the whole is repeated by the combined ensemble. The clarinet then climbs with almost unbearable grace to a peak in its second phrase, again repeated by all. This entire opening section returns, ingeniously varied, after a middle section that shows off the clarinet’s ability to leap and decorate expressively.
Mozart’s concluding Rondo reveals its riches in five sections—three occurrences of its capricious refrain alternate with two contrasting episodes. Mozart manages to display the soloist’s virtuosity while maintaining the highest level of artistic integrity—the clarinet dances, soars, tiptoes, leaps, wallows—all with incredible eloquence. Especially poignant is the haunting episode in minor with its heart-in-the-throat hesitations and pauses. Mozart’s lighthearted refrain banishes the shadows and the movement concludes in a coda of elegant exuberance.
—©Jane Vial Jaffe