My speech about Mozart's Bassoon Concerto, K. 191, is a shortened version of a rather lengthy and detailed analysis. My professional experience of numerous performances as well as the preparation for the 2 recordings, made within seven years of each other, led me to intensive contact with this one work. Some of those of you who know my Deutsche Grammaphon recordings of Mozart will realize after this speech that I now have quite different opinions from those I had during the recording sessions in 1971. I must confess that this first recording is the reason for my having made this analysis -- as preparation for the second recording. The idea was to avoid thoughtless repetitions of those habits and traditions of phrasing and articulation which over the years had become dubious to me. So I must stress that this analysis--which in its longer form will be in print most probably in one or two years -- was at first intended only for myself. This point must be emphasized in order to explain my direction and also to make sure that you understand why some of my remarks will be common knowledge to many of you. My standpoints are often very personal. I do not pretend to know how it has to be (for everyone), but I want to explain how and why my way of performing has to be the way that it is.
Here are the main problems with which I find myself confronted as a "modern performer" of classical music:
1) I play music of the 18th century with the orchestra of the late 19th century (the "modern orchestra" still does not exist!), whereas my musical education is based on the education of the 20th century. This leads to problem number . . .
2) Unfortunately, we use the same kind of music notation as was used in the 18th century. This makes us forget that a half note written in 1774 does not necessarily mean the same as it does in 1974. It is similar with languages: that western languages use more or less the same alphabet results often in misunderstandings about pronunciation of each "foreign" language within that group. If we read the textbooks of the 18th century, such as those by Leopold Mozart or C.P.E. Bach, we realize that reading the music of that time with our 20th century education is very often like reading a foreign language. Although the words are the same, or, in our case, the musical language, the meaning is different. (In one of the letters written to Sir Christopher Wren, the architect of the St. Paul's Cathedral, an admirer calls the building "awful, artificial, amusing" meaning, respectively, "inspiring awe, beautiful, enjoyable". . .)
3) The musician of 1774 was accustomed to play only contemporary music. We, on the other hand, are expected to read and more or less understand music of several centuries.
4) Many of our schools are based on the experience and thought of that generation in the early 20th century. During this time, Gustav Mahler, among others, demanded absolute "Textreue" (being true to the text). He banned improvised embellishments and appoggiaturas and created the fanatic belief that musicians, out of respect for the composer, may not play anything which is not clearly indicated in the score.
The problem, then, is this: Mahler's scores are complete to the last detail. Mozart's scores are purposely incomplete. We know that Mozart often used to make judgments about musicians of his time by rating their "Gusto", which he himself explained as the ability to embellish and articulate his music in a personal way with good taste. Unfortunately, he did not write for bassoonists an embellished version of the concerto, but on more than one occasion he did -- for example, for Aloisia Weber, the singer -- and these alternate versions teach us a lot.
5) We have "Urtext" editions showing us exactly what the composer's score provides and we have "practical" editions. In the latter, editors make use of their knowledge to compensate for the lack of knowledge among many performers. In addition, there are many transcriptions and arrangements available. These help enrich our small repertoire and instruct especially younger musicians about different musical styles. Speaking of the younger musician whose learning about style from the music he uses is more or less subconscious, one must be aware that the next category of editions presents a serious problem. These are the editions which look like Urtext editions but which actually contain many elements of an arrangement. Here the inexperienced player does not know how to distinguish between the original indications and the additions of the editor.
6) Arthur Weisberg states in his book The Art of Wind Playing that due to the lack of perfection of our instruments as opposed to string and keyboard instruments, there has always been a greater emphasis from us on technical problems and their solutions. As a result, we very seldom read and discuss musical problems of performance, as is customary among keyboard and string players. This is exactly the reason why I only want to look at musical problems of the Mozart Concerto at this time.
Let me now talk a little about the history of Mozart's bassoon concerto, a piece often rated as one of his weaker. It was written in the summer of 1774, one of Mozart's few quiet time periods. He was living in Salzburg at the time and wrote a lot of music, most of which we call "galant" music, which Einstein describes as "music which emphasizes more an elegant and friendly solo, than a serious dialogue between solo and tutti." During this summer, Mozart also composed his first piano concerto, K. 175.
The bassoon concerto was in all probability written for Freiherr Thaddeus von Durnitz, a wealthy noble amateur living in Munich. Mozart inserted a few more appoggiaturas and turns, especially in the second movement, than he would otherwise have done if the concerto had been written for a professional musician, say, from Mannheim.
The rating of the concerto as a weak piece is--in my opinion--due, in great extent, to the third movement. But why? Do we think that Mozart escaped into writing a simple dance because he was too uninspired to write a witty finale a la oboe concerto? Or could it be that we all do not give enough attention to this movement, which is seemingly so simple and easy to play? I believe the latter is the case.
We should know and be aware of the fact that the use of the stylized Menuet as the final movement is obviously a respectful tribute to composers like C.P.E. Bach, who had so much influence on the young Mozart, and who very often ended works with such a dance movement.
After reading Leopold Mozart's Violin Method twice, I was shocked to realize how many documents about performance practices we have in our hands and how little we follow their rules, and I had to include myself. I have had numerous discussions with other musicians who find documents like those of Leopold Mozart or C.P.E. Bach unimportant for our present-day performances. They argue, first of all, that the Mozarts had to deal with the performance level of their time, which is considered to have been quite low, and the lack of perfection of 18th century instruments. Secondly, many believe that Mozart went his own way and that therefore what Leopold Mozart had to say cannot be related to his son's music.
Until a few years ago, I had a very similar approach to these problems. Gladly I have changed my mind, especially since learning more at firsthand about the old instruments, playing an 18th century bassoon myself. Today I believe in the following two main aspects: Firstly, no matter whether the performance level of that time was high or low, one cannot afford to overlook basic rules of articulation and phrasing, particularly as I am convinced that these have no bearing on the technical level of performance per se anyway. Secondly, the correspondence between Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and his father clearly proves that-- at least in 1774, the year of K. 191 -- Mozart was still very much under the musical influence of Leopold Mozart. I do not see any reason why the rules of the Violin Method should not apply to the bassoon concerto. I find it of enormous help and wonder why I never made use of this source immediately after my "Hofmeister and Milde" times.
Here are a few basic rules which I consider as most important for my performance now.
A) The appoggiatura plays an essential role in classical music. Our romantic traditions taught us to "sing them out", with lots of sostenuto on each note. However, all the 18th century schools teach us clearly to put the greater emphasis on the appoggiatura note (appoggiare--to lean on) and as little emphasis as possible on the resolution note. The best example: measure 31 in the second movement:
B) Grace notes demand a very individual, sensitive interpretation. Leopold Mozart gives us a wide range of possibilities for playing grace notes. The way they are played depends on the character and mood of the particular phrase. If, for example, you take measure 64 in the first movement (Fig. 1), it makes sense to think about more than just the usual way of playing this, that is, in the traditional Hungarian dance "ta-daaa" rhythm.
If you wish to create a very smooth "Affetto", you might play:
and you cannot go wrong playing the classical standard phrasing--in this case, all eighth notes, but with the emphasis on the dissonant note:
C) Concerning trills, it is not only important to consider that there is an auxiliary note and whether it is the note above or below. The truly important factor is the length of the auxiliary note. In most cases, trills ask for a long (by that I mean understandable) and emphasized grace note.
D) The length of a printed note in classical times is not necessarily identical with its duration in performance. We learn from old string instruments as well as winds that, due to their particular way of resonating (similar to the baroque era), the sustaining of long notes was only a seldom used special effect. Longer notes had more the character of a bell pealing.
Here are a few specific examples of my ideas. [The following are excerpts, condensed for this purpose by the author, from his lecture in Los Angeles.]
I am now convinced that the comma should be after the first sixteenth note of the run in measure 40.
For clear understanding, the articulation of the bassoon without appoggiatura and the violin with appoggiatura should be identical.
The editor of the new Mozart edition has convinced me that we should play the cadenza after the first fermata and not on the second fermata. Otherwise, Mozart would not have put an extra fermata on the first beat in the bassoon part.
I read "Andante Adagio" as follows: "Andante" is the tempo marking; "Adagio" is the mood. Therefore, my tempo, for many people, may seem rather fast. As the opening theme is built on suspensions, the emphasis on the suspension notes is essential to me.
Example 5. In the cadenza, I now try to come back to the fact that this Andante has very much in common, melodically speaking, with the 6th movement of the Serenade, K. 203, written in the same summer, as well as with the "Cavatine" of the Countess in The Marriage of Figaro. Therefore, I usually start the cadenza now with the theme of the "Cavatine."
The Rondo Menuetto comes to life from a lively articulation of the upper voice, corresponding to the well-phrased bass (continuo!).
Example 7. Measure 59, see under "B", Fig. 1, 2, 3 (page 10, 11):
Leopold Mozart cites a very similar case as an example in his Violin Method and he states:
"The semiquaver is taken quite smoothly and quietly, the stress always falling on the quaver."
Example 8. Measure 97 should be a viola solo with bassoon accompaniment.
Example 9. If you can convince the strings that the last chords most supposedly were meant to be played arpeggio and not divisi, you get a most lively ending of the bassoon concerto.
In conclusion, I would like to summarize my thoughts about the way I prefer to look at the Mozart score. To be true to the composer and to his intentions does not only require loyalty to the printed page. It seems to me to be equally important to learn more about the way they read the same score 200 years ago, in order to be faithful to the composer's intentions.
*Mr. Turkovic's Figs. 1, 2, and 3 were mislaid unintentionally. In case the Editor's memory of them is incorrect, a clear correction will be given in The Double Reed Vol. II, No. 1, 1979, after consultation with the author.