Joseph Legros, 1770 (engraving) by Charles Francois Adrien Macret. Wikimedia Commons. Legros directed the Concerts Spirituels, the concert series for which Mozart wrote the Paris Symphony.
Wolfgang Amadè Mozart
Symphony No. 31 in D, K. 297, “Paris”
Johannes Chrysostomus Wolfgang Gottlieb Mozart was born in Salzburg, Austria, on January 27, 1756, and died in Vienna on December 5, 1791. He composed his Paris Symphony in the French capital during a concert tour in 1778; on June 12 he reported that he had just finished the work, and the first performance took place in Paris six days later. The symphony is scored for pairs of flutes, oboes, clarinets, bassoons, horns, and trumpets, as well as timpani and strings.
Before the French Revolution Paris was the greatest musical center of Europe; success there meant a chance to win fame and fortune. Mozart had enjoyed a glorious success in that city as a child prodigy. But when he returned in 1778 at twenty-two, he discovered to his chagrin that a former prodigy has little drawing power. But Mozart did achieve at least one signal success during his Parisian stay when Joseph Legros, director of the orchestral series known as the Concerts Spirituels, invited him to compose a symphony especially for one of its concerts.
Mozart clearly determined to write a symphony in accordance with French musical taste (though he regarded it as very low) while also turning out the best work of which he was capable. He reveled in the large orchestra, especially the fine woodwinds—it was the first time he had ever been able to include clarinets in a symphony—and followed French taste in writing only three movements. On June 12 he reported to his father that the symphony was finished, adding his confident assertion that it would please “the few intelligent French people who may be there—and as for the stupid ones, I shall not consider it a great misfortune if they are not pleased.”
The opening Allegro assai begins with a series of repeated chords on the stereotyped rhythmic pattern that signaled the very notion of “symphony” to a Parisian audience. But after the opening bars the audience had no reason to expect to hear it for the rest of the work. It had served its primary purpose in getting the symphony started and shushing the audience. But Mozart playfully fills the entire movement with references to that opening gesture, so that it is never absent long: a brilliant demonstration that even the most hackneyed stereotype can become a fresh new idea in the hands of a genius. And the Parisian audience, to its credit, appreciated the joke.
Legros felt that Mozart’s Andante was too complex to win real public approval. Mozart therefore composed a replacement. His final judgment: “Each is good in its own way—for each has a different character. But the last pleases me even more.”
The final movement is another of Mozart’s jokes on the Paris audience. He had noticed that last movements also started forte, if only to hush the conversation that followed the applause between movements. But he caught the audience off guard with a quiet rushing figure in the second violins followed by a gentle, off-the-beat sigh in the first violins while no one else plays. The gambit worked: “The audience, as I expected, said ‘hush’ at the soft beginning, and when they heard the forte, began at once to clap their hands.” Even more daring was the second theme, a fugato that must have struck the pleasure-loving Parisians as frightfully learned—yet Mozart wears his contrapuntal learning so lightly that we never for an instant lose our admiration for his sense of timing. Clearly the Paris Symphony is one of those fortunate works that perfectly gauges its audience’s ability to follow. We still delight in Mozart’s wit and quicksilver brilliance as did the Parisians at the Concert Spirituel in 1778.
— © Steven Ledbetter
American Sketches: A Negro Congregation in Washington, 1876 (hand-colored ink on paper) by an unknown artist. Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture.
Jasmine Barnes
KINSFOLKNEM (AMFS co-commission)
The composer and vocalist Jasmine Barnes was born in Baltimore in 1991. KINSFOLKNEM is an AMFS co-commission written in 2024 and premiered in Carnegie Hall by NYO2 on August 1, 2024. This performance features the same quartet of soloists who premiered the work. The piece is scored for a solo quartet of flute, oboe, clarinet, and bassoon as well as two flutes, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones, tuba, timpani, percussion, harp, and strings.
Composer Jasmine Barnes still finds it thrilling to hear her music performed live: “‘I wrote that?’ crosses my mind in every instance. I think I’m so enthralled because I’m not someone who grew up with classical music, or someone who felt reflected in it, and I think, ‘How lucky am I to get to be that representation for someone like me.’”
In her journey as a composer, Barnes’s increasing awareness of the lack of diversity in the classical canon coupled with her interest in other musical genres gave her a personal mission: to use her art to “tell the stories of those who were silenced.” Her AMFS co-commission KINSFOLKNEM (pronounced “Kinsfolk and ‘em”) thus celebrates the Black family, with Barnes highlighting the “sound world of places and themes” that make up an extended family gathering. As in many of her works, Barnes infuses classical forms with influences from other genres, most notably the music of the Black church.
KINSFOLKNEM marries classical structures with Black American musical innovations. The work is written in concertante form, featuring a woodwind quartet as soloists against an orchestral backdrop, but it also weaves the Gospel songs that Barnes grew up with into its score. The first movement, The Sunday Dinner, immediately showcases this form’s potential, allowing the soloists both to play as a collective and to soar over both the small and larger ensemble. The music finds a Gospel-inspired groove, offering calls-and-responses and syncopated rhythms while the soloists and orchestra dance playfully around each other.
The second movement, The Repast, also draws from Gospel idioms, but offers a more sorrowful mood. The solo clarinet and oboe initially trade winding chromatic melodies before making way for an extended and expressive flute solo. The music’s pace gradually increases as Barnes evokes the funeral celebration of a Second Line with the sounding of a familiar tune. The movement ends with a final, transcendent ascent.
Barnes describes the third movement, The Reunion, as a celebration evoking the “sound world of a Black cookout.” The music is jubilant with constant movement and energetic, syncopated rhythms. Barnes’s woodwind quartet interweaves intricate melodies and rhythms as an ensemble while enjoying the freedom to unleash breathtaking, virtuosic lines as individual soloists. A moment of nostalgia is briefly heard before the piece ends with a final emphatic gesture.
Barnes notes that her evolution “came with exploring composers not of European descent, many of whom pushed the boundaries of what classical music sounds like. It was then that I started to peel back the constraints I’d put on myself and changed what I thought was ‘good’ classical music. I can find beauty in so many types of music, and I think the classical community could benefit from embracing new music and still hold dear space for the ‘canon.’”
In bringing audiences into the sonic world of a Black American family and drawing from Black American musical idioms, Barnes pushes against traditional expectations of classical music. Her thoughtfulness and creativity thus gives her work new meanings and—more importantly to the composer—a sense of purpose. — © Kamilla Arku
Winston Churchill giving the “V for Victory” sign, June 5, 1943, by an unknown photographer. Imperial War Museums/Wikimedia Commons.
Ludwig van Beethoven
Symphony No. 5 in C minor, op. 67
Ludwig van Beethoven was baptized in Bonn, Germany, on December 17, 1770 (he was probably born the day before), and died in Vienna on March 26, 1827. He began to sketch the Fifth Symphony in 1804, did most of the work in 1807, completed the score in the spring of 1808, and led the first performance on December 22, 1808. The Symphony is scored for two flutes and piccolo, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons and contrabassoon, two horns, two trumpets, three trombones, timpani, and strings.
The premiere of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony occurred under horrendous circumstances. Beethoven had arranged himself a benefit concert on December 22, 1808, during which a choir and orchestra were to premiere many of his works, including both the Fifth and Sixth Symphonies. (At this first performance, their numbers were reversed from how they would be published—the piece you hear this evening was advertised as the Sixth Symphony.) The composer Johann Friedrich Reichardt, who felt obliged to attend this concert by a composer he regarded as a genius, recorded his impressions of the evening in a book of “intimate letters” that, despite their title, were always intended for publication. For Reichardt, Beethoven’s concert was something that “we endured from 6:30 to 10:30 in the evening and in the bitterest cold, and thus confirmed the old adage that one can have too much of a good thing—and particularly of a powerful thing.” Reichardt was unsparing in his assessment of the C-minor Symphony: “A grand, very extended, overlong symphony. A gentleman beside us affirmed seeing at the rehearsal that the very busy cello part alone ran to thirty-four pages. Composers clearly cannot express themselves any more briefly than can judges and lawyers.”
Not long after that dreadful premiere, critical opinion shifted. The most important and influential reaction to the Fifth Symphony came a year and a half later from the famous writer E.T.A. Hoffmann. Hoffmann waxed ecstatic in his description of the Symphony: “Radiant beams shoot through the deep night . . . and we become aware of gigantic shadows which, rocking back and forth, close in on us and destroy all within us except the pain of endless longing—a longing in which every pleasure that rose up amid jubilant tones sinks and succumbs.”
As this passage shows, the overwhelming energy and expressive richness of the Fifth Symphony left some early audiences stupefied or exhilarated. In a modern performance considerably shorter than the original four-hour endurance test, we are struck not by how “overlong” the piece is, but rather by the dense and powerful economy of its thematic materials. The famous opening four notes of the piece permeate the entire texture, provoking listeners to speculate about what this small but mighty motif could possibly mean.
Beethoven’s own answer to one of the many curious persons who asked him what his music was about was “thus Fate knocks at the door.” The notion of Fate and the self-evident struggle that takes place in the four movements of this powerful score have resulted in two centuries worth of overlaid notions. One of the most widespread emerged during World War II, when the coincidence of the opening four notes of the Symphony corresponding rhythmically to the Morse code for the letter “V”—and the ubiquitous “V for Victory” gesture of Winston Churchill—turned Beethoven’s Fifth into the Victory Symphony almost overnight.
Beethoven’s sense of struggle and his vision of final victory grew over a period of years as he kept returning to his sketchbooks to develop his ideas nearer to fruition. When he returned to the Fifth Symphony, he worked out its details at the same time as the Sixth Symphony. In one respect only do the two symphonies reveal their simultaneous composition: Beethoven was experimenting with links between movements, and in each of these symphonies—as never before and never again—he composed a carefully plotted transition linking the scherzo and the finale. This decision marks a shift of the symphony’s traditional center of gravity from the weighty first-movement sonata form to a still-more-potent finale.
The first four notes clearly assume great importance from the outset, but the more we hear of it the more we marvel: this little musical atom is not a theme in itself; it is the rhythmic foreground to an extraordinarily long-limbed melody. Our ears hear a long phrase, but no one in the orchestra actually plays it in full. Following the first two orchestral statements of the four-note figure, the second violins contribute four notes before being overlapped by the violas, who in turn are superseded by the first violins, and so on. The rapid interplay of orchestral sections, a constantly boiling cauldron in which each has its own brief say before yielding to the next, lends a dramatic quality to the sound of the orchestra from the very opening.
In most minor-key symphonies before Beethoven, the major-key ending was expected, conventional, and achieved without struggle or doubt; the last movement was simply in the major as a fait accompli. But throughout all four movements of Beethoven’s Fifth, C major keeps appearing without ever quite exorcizing the haunting ghost of C minor—never, that is, until the end of the last movement.
In the opening Allegro the C major appears right where it is conventionally expected—at the recapitulation of the secondary theme. But instead of continuing in that vein, the lengthy coda goes on—in C minor—to assert that we have as yet no triumph, only continued struggle. In the Andante Beethoven keeps moving with a surprising modulation from the home key of A-flat major to a bright C major that is reinforced by trumpets and timpani. But that C-major idea is never allowed to come to a full conclusion; instead it fades away, shrouded in harmonic mists and sustained tension. The humorless scherzo (in C minor) turns to C major for a trio involving some contrapuntal buffoonery, but the fun comes to an end with a hushed return to the minor-key material of the opening. The sustained quiet of this return builds tension. We know something is going to happen—but when? How?
It is here that we begin to approach the light, moving through the darkness of the linking passage between the movements to the glorious sunburst of C major that opens the finale. But even now we have not yet reached the major mode permanently. The scherzo and the tense linking passage are recalled just before the recapitulation, providing another shift from gloom to bright day. Only then are we at last fully confirmed in C major. As if to celebrate this achievement, Beethoven enlarges his orchestra with the addition of a piccolo on the top and three trombones on the bottom—the first time either instrument appeared in the symphonic repertory—so that this success can sound even more resonantly. The extended coda—an extraordinary peroration in C major—earns its length by being not just the conclusion of the last movement, but of the entire Symphony. The finale releases the tension from all four movements, demonstrating unification on a grand scale to which virtually every composer since has aspired—though few have attained it.
— © Steven Ledbetter
Native Tennessean Andrew Brady joined the Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra in the 2022–23 season as principal bassoon after having served in the same position with the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra since January 2016. Prior to his work with the ASO Brady was principal for two years with the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra. As a soloist Brady has performed concertos by John Williams, Vivaldi, Hertel, Rossini, Mozart, Weber, and Zwilich with the Atlanta, Southeast, and Los Angeles Doctors symphonies, and the Saint Paul Chamber and Colburn orchestras. He appears regularly as the principal bassoonist with the Grand Teton Music Festival Orchestra and has performed as guest principal with the Los Angeles Philharmonic at the Hollywood Bowl and Carnegie Hall. Brady has performed all over the world, including as a member of the Chineke! Orchestra at the 2017 BBC Proms and on European tours with the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra. Brady participated in the 2022 Juneteenth: A Global Celebration for Freedom concert with the Re-Collective Orchestra—the first performance of an all-Black orchestra at the Hollywood Bowl. Brady graduated in 2013 with his bachelor’s degree from the Colburn Conservatory of Music, where he studied with Richard Beene. Other major teachers and influences include Anthony Parnther, Rick Ranti, and Suzanne Nelsen.
Paul-Boris Kertsman is an emerging conductor and pianist noted for his expressive musicianship and instinctive connection with audiences. In the upcoming season he begins his appointment as head of music and conductor at Lucerne Theatre and joins the Aspen Music Festival as assistant conductor. He recently completed two seasons as assistant conductor of the Musikkollegium Winterthur, where he worked closely with Music Director Roberto González-Monjas, led performances, and supported renowned guest artists. Notable engagements include Bernstein’s Trouble in Tahiti in Lucerne, a production of Mozart’s Idomeneo directed by Michael Sturminger, and his debut at the Musikverein Vienna with the ORF Radio Symphony Orchestra. He has led the Vienna Philharmonic’s Prokopp Academy, appeared on Austrian National TV, and worked with the WDR Rundfunkchor. A committed advocate for contemporary music, Kertsman has collaborated with composers including Matthias Pintscher, Chaya Czernowin, and Hannah Kendall. He debuts next season with the Vorarlberg Symphony Orchestra for a festival performance of new music. Born in New York and raised in Vienna and Chicago, Kertsman completed his conducting studies with Mark Stringer at the University of Music and Performing Arts Vienna.
Nicholas McGegan, a conductor specializing in music of the eighteenth century, is in his sixth decade on the podium. Following a thirty-four-year tenure as music director of Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra and Chorale, he is now music director emeritus. He is also principal guest conductor of Hungary’s Capella Savaria. McGegan’s approach—intelligent, infused with joy, and never dogmatic—has led to engagements with many of the world’s major orchestras, including those of Cleveland, Chicago, Los Angeles, New York, Philadelphia, San Francisco, Hong Kong, Sydney, London’s Royal Opera House, and the Royal Concertgebouw; regular collaborations with choreographer Mark Morris; and appearances at the BBC Proms and the Edinburgh International Festival. His extensive discography includes more than 100 releases spanning five decades, including more than forty with Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra and Chorale and more than twenty with Capella Savaria. McGegan’s recordings have garnered two Gramophone Awards and two Grammy nominations. He was made an OBE “for services to music overseas” in 2010. McGegan is committed to the next generation of musicians, frequently conducting and coaching students in regular engagements at Yale, Juilliard, Harvard, the Colburn School, Aspen Music Festival, and more. For more information, visit nicholasmcgegan.comor his Facebook page at facebook.com/nicholasmcgegan
Clarinetist Anthony McGill enjoys a dynamic solo and chamber music career and is principal clarinet of the New York Philharmonic—the first African American principal player in the organization’s history. He is the recipient of the 2020 Avery Fisher Prize and was named Musical America’s 2024 Instrumentalist of the Year. American Stories, his album with the Pacifica Quartet, was nominated for a Grammy. McGill appears as a soloist with top orchestras, including the New York and Los Angeles philharmonics, the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, and the Baltimore, BBC Scottish, Boston, Chicago, and Detroit symphony orchestras. He performed alongside Itzhak Perlman, Yo-Yo Ma, and Gabriela Montero at the first inauguration of President Barack Obama. He serves on the faculty of The Juilliard School and is artistic director for Juilliard’s Music Advancement Program. He holds the William R. and Hyunah Yu Brody Distinguished Chair at Curtis Institute of Music. In 2020 McGill’s #TakeTwoKnees campaign protesting the death of George Floyd went viral, reaching thousands of individuals. Since 2023 he has partnered with Bryan Stevenson and the Equal Justice Initiative to organize classical music convenings at EJI’s Legacy sites in Montgomery, Alabama. He is a Backun Artist and performs exclusively on Backun Clarinets.
Demarre McGill is internationally recognized as one of the premier flutists of his generation, celebrated for his lyrical expressiveness and technical prowess. Winner of the prestigious Avery Fisher Career Grant and the Sphinx Medal of Excellence, McGill has appeared as a soloist with the renowned orchestras of Philadelphia, San Francisco, Seattle, Pittsburgh, Dallas, Grant Park, San Diego, Chicago, and Baltimore. Currently serving as the principal flute of the Seattle Symphony, McGill has previously held principal positions with the Dallas Symphony, San Diego Symphony, Florida Orchestra, and Santa Fe Opera Orchestra, and was acting principal of the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra and the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra. As an educator McGill is committed to inspiring and nurturing the next generation of musicians. He has coached and presented master classes in South Africa, South Korea, Japan, Quebec, and throughout the United States. He has served on the faculties of institutions including the National Youth Orchestra, Sarasota Music Festival, and Stellenbosch International Chamber Music Festival. McGill spent seven years as the associate professor of Flute at the University of Cincinnati College-Conservatory of Music and has been an artist-faculty member of the Aspen Music Festival and School since 2017. Born in Chicago, McGill began studying the flute at age seven and attended the Merit School of Music before studying with Susan Levitin. Demarre received his bachelor’s degree from the Curtis Institute of Music and a master’s degree from The Juilliard School. McGill is a Yamaha Performing Artist. For additional information please visit www.demarremcgill.com.
Titus Underwood is principal oboe of the Nashville Symphony Orchestra and the 2021 recipient of the Sphinx Medal of Excellence. He was also a 2021 Midsouth Regional Emmy winner for his work on We Are Nashville. Prior to working with the NSO Mr. Underwood was acting associate principal of the Utah Symphony and performed as guest principal with the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra, Miami Symphony Orchestra, and Florida Orchestra. A sought-after freelance performer, he has also performed with the Los Angeles Philharmonic, Atlanta Symphony, Puerto Rico Symphony, and San Diego Symphony. Mr. Underwood regularly plays principal oboe in the Chineke! Orchestra, Gateways Music Festival, and Bellingham Festival of Music. He received his Master of Music degree from The Juilliard School, where he studied with Elaine Douvas, and pursued additional studies with Nathan Hughes and Pedro Diaz. He earned his Bachelor of Music degree from the Cleveland Institute of Music, where he was a student of John Mack with additional studies from Frank Rosenwein and Jeffrey Rathbun. In 2013 Mr. Underwood received his artist diploma from the Colburn School as a student of Allan Vogel. Additional notable teachers include Anne Marie Gabriele, Robert Atherholt, and Joseph Robinson.
