Following the logics of the art of cooking or those of genetic research and practices, we could assume that, like a recipe or a hybridization, a sinfonia concertante is the combination of a symphony and a concerto in certain proportions, as established by the chef or the scientist. However, history reveals that, in reality, the sinfonia concertante is not a simple addition of noun and adjective but, simply and concretely, a very peculiar type of concerto.

Pablo Kohan / Trans. Virginia Chacon Dorr

Mozart: symphony, concerto, and sinfonia concertante

The reason for the denomination “sinfonia concertante” is a mystery that doesn’t have too many explanations, and to expose all doubts, nobody better than Mozart to serve on the table a symphony, a concerto, and a sinfonia concertante, all three written practically in succession. Two of them strictly adhere to their formal or generic definitions. The third one only consolidates the uncertainties.

For quite pedestrian reasons (the search for employment), in March 1778, Wolfgang, accompanied by his mother, traveled to Paris. To showcase skills and capabilities, he composed three orchestral works and incorporated, within them, some characteristics typical of French classicism. Applying his usual speed, he wrote Symphony No. 31 in D major, K.297, premiered at a private evening at the house of a count and, immediately after, at Concert Spirituel, the Concerto for Flute, Harp, and Orchestra in C major, K.299, for the Duke of Guines, an amateur flutist, and also the father of a harpist as amateur and limited as her progenitor, and the Sinfonia Concertante for flute, oboe, horn, bassoon, and orchestra in E-flat major, K.297b, which was not performed and whose original manuscript disappeared although it was reconstructed from a copy also handwritten found almost a century later. Let’s go to the general analysis of each of them.

For a little over a decade, essentially led by the founding and prolific hand of Franz Joseph Haydn, the classical symphony, from Vienna to the rest of Europe, had firmly established itself as a work for orchestra, in four movements, each with peculiar and almost unalterable internal forms, as well as well-defined profiles, tempos, and characters. The first was articulated in the revolutionary and novel sonata form with two themes; the second progressed slowly and songfully; the third was invariably a minuet, and the last, brilliant, could repeat the initial sonata form or take on the mold of the rondo. To Parisian taste, Mozart wrote his Symphony No. 31, precisely known as the Paris Symphony. Wherever you go, do what you see (or listen to) – and more so if the goal is to get a job – the work assumes French pomp, with a larger orchestra than the Austrian ones (two clarinets and two trumpets), including a striking initial unison and leaving the minuet aside to become Mozart’s only symphony in three movements. Throughout the work, some rather pompous contrasts appear, and those beginnings in unisons, components, or very French approaches, extremely unusual within Mozart’s usual compositional proposals of that time. For a second presentation, also in Paris, Mozart replaced the central Andantino, very Viennese for the critics, with a more courtly Andante, which today is the one usually performed. This is how this symphony sounds in the interpretation of the Frankfurt Radio Symphony Orchestra conducted by the Lithuanian Giedrė Slekytė.

 

If the classical symphony is a creation of the second half of the 18th century, the concerto, a work for soloist (or soloists) and orchestra, emerged at the beginning of that same century from northern Italy, mainly from Venice, with the firm imprint established by the immense production of Vivaldi. Baroque concertos were established in three movements, following the sequence Fast – Slow – Fast. Overcoming the harsh barrier of rejection that composers of the new classicism exercised over past creations, the concerto not only remained alive but – always in three movements – incorporated the great formal and idiomatic innovations that emerged in the second half of the 18th century. Mozart’s Concerto for Flute, Harp, and Orchestra is a clear example of the incorporation of the sonata form in the first movement, with its first exposition by the orchestra and with the addition of the two soloists in the second (1:33). Given the limited technical abilities of those who commissioned the work, Mozart stripped the flute and harp parts of any virtuosity, and this concerto, gallant and very French (the initial unison is another proof of Mozart’s attempt to please the audience for whom the work had been written), progresses without major surprises. With a harpist who is barely adequate, the instrument practically lacks any prominence and is reduced to an almost exclusively accompanying function. This is the interpretation of the Croatian Chamber Orchestra, conducted by Igor Tatarević, with the participation of flutist Tamara Coha Mandić and harpist Diana Grubišić Ćiković.

 

Unlike its contemporaneous and innovative classical symphonies – which never place any soloist ahead of the orchestra – the sinfonías concertantes, with a centrifugal starting point in France, since c.1770, were characterized by being essentially concerts for multiple soloists and orchestra, almost always in three movements and incorporating, also almost always, the new sonata form in the initial movement, following the same model as the classical concerto we previously analyzed. In April, Mozart wrote a letter to his father – who had stayed in Salzburg – in which he said he was composing a Sinfonía Concertante for oboe, clarinet, bassoon, horn, and orchestra for Concert Spirituel, the prestigious institution that, since 1725, organized musical events in Paris. But there were setbacks. The work was not premiered because, at the last moment, it was replaced by another sinfonía concertante by Giuseppe Cambini intended for the same solo instruments. The original manuscript disappeared but, in 1869, a handwritten copy was found in the collection of Otto Jahn, one of the first biographers of Mozart. With different hands that retouched and completed the missing parts, the work is now performed, and even with the well-known reservations for strange additions, no one disputes Mozart’s authorship. With this, his first sinfonía concertante, Wolfgang completed his very French orchestral trilogy although, in this case, due to its length, density, and dramatic tensions, it is the least close to the musical style of French classicism. Recorded in Switzerland, five years ago, by the Musikkollegium Winterthur and a soloist quartet emerged from the same orchestra, here we have a very good interpretation of the Sinfonía Concertante, K.297b.

Sinfonía concertante in France.

Leaving aside the symphony, whose orchestral essence is beyond question, the spontaneous question that arises is how a concerto for two solo instruments and orchestra differs from a sinfonia concertante for, in this case, four solo instruments and orchestra. Perhaps the answer to this question – or perhaps the conjectures or approximations, since there are no definitive answers – should be left until the end, after exploring different sinfonías concertantes written in various European regions. As appropriate, the beginning will be in France, where local composers abounded in the writing of sinfonías concertantes.

François Devienne was a composer, flutist, and bassoonist who lived between 1759 and 1803. He was a member of various ensembles and was the most eminent flute teacher of his time, holding that teaching position at the Paris Conservatoire in his later years. Within a body of work that includes around three hundred instrumental pieces, he is particularly noted for his flute concertos and a dozen sinfonías concertantes featuring predominantly wind instruments as soloists. The Sinfonía Concertante for two flutes and orchestra in G major, op.76, presumably written between 1799 and 1801, is Devienne’s final sinfonía concertante. As if the French Revolution had never occurred or as if time had stood still during the years when Mozart resided in Paris, the work is charming from start to finish, classical in its absolute balance, without any contrasts or abrupt breaks of any kind. Of course, in three movements, the piece exudes an undeniable palatial air. Modest in its ambitions, the orchestral exposition of the first movement is not even bi-thematic, and as soon as the first (and only) theme is briefly introduced and expanded upon, the first of the two solo flutes enters. This is how it is performed by Nikolai Mokhov and Denis Lupachev, accompanied by the Mariinsky Orchestra. The conductor of the orchestra is none other than Patrick Gallois, a renowned flutist who, in his time and as a soloist, performed this work alongside the unforgettable Jean-Pierre Rampal.

Giuseppe Cambini (1746-1825) was born in Livorno and settled in Paris in 1773. Almost immediately, he gained enormous fame after a very favorable reception of a symphony performance at the Concert Spirituel. A true creative force, from that precise moment in Paris, practically everything he composed was published. Within his colossal production are no fewer than eighty-two sinfonías concertantes. Despite all of them being completely forgotten, it is impossible to find any interpretation of the sinfonía concertante that displaced Mozart’s at that Concert Spirituel concert. However, to witness the classical simplicity and simple elegance of his music, in the absence of worthy videos on the horizon, it is well worth listening to the first movement of a Sinfonía Concertante for oboe, bassoon, and orchestra. Faced with these sounds and the abundance of gracefulness, it is not unreasonable to infer that it was those extensions and dramatisms of Mozart’s Sinfonía Concertante K.297b that determined Cambini’s music to be much more suitable for the refined French public of 1778.

The sinfonía concertante in the rest of Europe.

In England, where he resided from 1762, Johann Christian Bach (1735-1782), the youngest son of Johann Sebastian, was the most significant contributor to the development of the genre. Of his fifteen sinfonías concertantes, it is noteworthy that five of them are written in only two movements. Rich in the number of soloists, except for one, all were written for groups of three or more instrumentalists. The contribution of Italian composers to the genre was limited, minuscule. At least on the Italian peninsula. The immense production of Cambini, the true champion of the sinfonía concertante, was entirely produced in France.

In Mannheim, where a new style of orchestral writing had been coined, essential in establishing Viennese classicism, sinfonías concertantes took on a different modality, much less decorative in terms of embellishments and the lack of drama that pervaded the various regions we have visited. The orchestral writing was more detailed, and the coordination between the solo instruments and the orchestra was handled differently. All of this without losing any of the classic embellishments. Its most relevant composer was Christian Cannabich (1731-1798), but the most prolific, with over thirty sinfonías concertantes to his credit, was Carl Stamitz (1745-1801), the son of Johann, the founder of the famous Mannheim School. Of all these, performed in Seoul by a South Korean chamber orchestra, here is the Sinfonía Concertante for violin, viola, and orchestra in D major (c.1770), in three movements, Allegro (0.00), Romance (9.40), and Rondeau (16.25). Less decorative than the previous ones, a mere general listening allows one to perceive another type of sound, resulting from very peculiar balances and instrumental combinations so characteristic of Viennese classicism. Just to note the respect for the already fully established forms, in the first movement, as if it were a concerto for violin, viola, and orchestra, the sonata form appears immaculate with its orchestral exposition, with its second theme, cheerful and distinguished, emerging at 0.48. The second exposition, with the two soloists in the foreground, begins at 1.47.

Finding identity, returning to Mozart

Having wandered through various European geographies and listened to different creations, it becomes clear that sinfonías concertantes, true concerts for multiple soloists and orchestra, were a genre closely related and parallel to serenades and divertimentos, a field of occasional music and entertainment less ambitious than symphonies and concertos. Nevertheless, the reason for this misleading label still persists, as sinfonías concertantes are decidedly not symphonies. To try to elaborate not a concrete theory but merely to state assumptions or mere inferences, one would have to travel to France and seek answers not in the strict field of sounds but in the emerging and flourishing business of public concerts. Nicolas Framery (1745-1810), a French writer, librettist, theorist, and music critic, in his publication Journal de musique historique, théorique, et pratique, almost as a friendly recommendation to the Concert Spirituel organization, advocated gathering the best instrumentalists to participate in sinfonías concertantes rather than in “insipid concerts” or “very lengthy symphonies or sonatas.”

In a context of sustained growth of the burgeoning public concert and perhaps under the concept of improving sales, sinfonías concertantes circulated, some with improbable orchestrations. Beyond the “normal,” there were ensembles of soloists such as harpsichord, violin, and piano (Tapray), piano four hands and violin (von Schacht), piano, mandolin, trumpet, and double bass (Kozeluch). The most numerous may have been the one Johann Christian Bach wrote for two violins, two violas, two oboes, two horns, cello, and orchestra. With another scale and perhaps providing a dignified end to the relatively brief path of sinfonías concertantes, Haydn, in 1792, in London, composed his Sinfonía Concertante for violin, cello, oboe, bassoon, and orchestra. The fashion lasted for a few more decades but was already in the hands of composers of second or third order. The preference was specifically for concerts for two or three instruments, with a much more solid and balanced overall form. Beethoven, in 1804, probably did not even consider the concept of sinfonía concertante when he completed his wonderful Concerto for violin, cello, piano, and orchestra, op.56. The same happened with the young Mendelssohn who, at fourteen, in 1823 wrote a concerto for violin, piano, and orchestra and two concertos for two pianos and orchestra.

However, in the end, we must inevitably return to Mozart because there, splendid, masterful, and extraordinary, lies the Sinfonía Concertante for violin, viola, and orchestra in E-flat major, K.364/320d, whose existence may be the sole reason we still speak of this genre, which ultimately has one great work, Mozart’s, deserving of eternity. In 1779, after having passed through Mannheim, where Wolfgang must have heard sinfonías concertantes by Cannabich and Carl Stamitz, he returned to the genre following the frustrating Parisian experience of the previous year. The result was this wonderful double concerto—or perhaps a genuine symphony given the importance and transcendence of the orchestral passages—in three movements, one of the most performed among those written in the second half of the 18th century. Without further comments, explanations, or added descriptions, here we have the opportunity to listen to and watch an admirable performance by the Argovia Philharmonic, a Swiss orchestra from the county of Aarau, little known in these parts but, for this occasion, recorded in 2022 under the direction of the Norwegian Rune Bergmann and with the participation of two exceptional soloists: the American Noah Bendix-Balgley, first concertmaster of the Berlin Philharmonic, and the Israeli Amihai Grosz, principal viola of the same orchestra and, for many, the most notable violist of today. Simply click on the link following this paragraph and let yourself be carried away. With Mozart and these musicians, enjoyment is guaranteed.