Mozart Clarinet Quintet: Theme and Variations Finale

-

Mozart's music is deeply felt, but he always seems to maintain plausible deniability. His style is such that in case any patron accused him, "Herr Mozart, are you using my commission for fun party music to make Serious Art?" he could respond, "My job is only to entertain, sir, and this work I did for you serves only that purpose." That defense could apply to most passages in most of his works (of course there are exceptions), even some of his absolute best. Sometimes he uses that duality in a conscious way for artistic tension, or so it seems to me.

The theme and variations at the finale of the clarinet quintet uses this duality for some subtle but very satisfying moments of music. It works on the entertainment level of some relaxing good times to finish out the piece, and also on a more existential level. What you hear in it depends on what kind of experience you had listening to the three preceding movements. The second movement could be considered calm and beautiful, but I also find it a bit soul-aching. It's like lying in a hospital bed staring at cherry blossoms out the window, with your soul starting to leave your body at some moments. Then after this strange soaring, the coda gives a brief but emotional, painful but resigned, reckoning with mortality. It's all a little chilling, which you might still be feeling by the time you get to the last movement. 

The effect of hearing the dopey but good theme of the finale could be "let me sit back and enjoy," but if you're vibing with Mozart on a more philosophical level, its vapidity is concerning, maybe maddening. The effect of uncomfortable detachment gets worse as it goes on. The variations, all fun to listen to, seem to be withholding any sort of honest expression. The repeat signs around each variation, even the adagio one, add to the feeling of emptiness behind the enjoyment. Some moments where you might hope for some feelings to slip in - the minor key variation, the slow variation - are handled in a very theatrical, performative way. 

When he starts to break from the theme and variations structure, which is inherently a bit boring, we are hungry for something new, and he does not disappoint. The suspension in measure 104, which resembles a modern day minor seven chord, sounds like now we've finally hit on something real. It only lasts for a moment but it's so refreshing and evocative that to me it puts everything else in perspective. It looks back on all the variations before, and towards whatever last statement he might be preparing to make before wrapping up. Again he does not disappoint, giving us something to really chew on a few bars later: a surprisingly chromatic descending clarinet line set against a rich chorale in the strings, in measures 118 through 121. I detect a flash of anger and bitterness - a new emotion for the whole piece - as we briefly jump outside the A major key area in bar 121, all the more intriguing because of how lightly and gracefully we land again and scamper off to the happy ending. 

I have a fantasy of some people in the audience getting up and thinking "that was so pretty," while others thinking "that was quite the emotional, spiritual journey." 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Bronx River

-
 Living in the urban core of a sprawling metropolis, one develops passionate fantasies about abundant, clean, pristine nature, especially during the summer. New Yorkers have a habit of leaving the city during the summer, as their means allow. We do have nature in the city - huge rivers, beaches, forested parks, gardens, etc. - but not "abundant, clean, pristine" nature. An "urban hike" along the Bronx River, as a friend suggested, did not promise to fulfill my nature fantasy for a nice Sunday in June. The Bronx River barely registers as blue or green on a map amidst the street grid, other than in the Botanical Garden. But who am I to demand on-demand access to bountiful natural resources? Where I come from, suburban New Jersey, was almost as urbanized and environmentally degraded as New York City. The river through my neighborhood growing up, the east branch of the Rahway, was more like the Bronx River than a clear mountain stream. Fed from concrete culverts and sto...
Read more

My Grandpa: an Economic History

-
Image
I don't have facts here, I just have family stories. My great grandparents, Masha and David Shoshkes, emigrated to Newark, NJ from a small town in Poland as adults. David went into the produce business, starting off with a pushcart. Through hard work and sacrifice, the story goes, he saved enough money to establish a store on South Orange Avenue. Later, he became a distributor, driving his truck to delis in the suburbs with their produce orders. One of his clients was the Town Hall Deli in South Orange, which still exists. As he accumulated some capital, David invested in real estate. These ventures were risky, and due to one financial setback, the family had to pack up and move into an investment property of his, for a number of years. This house was in an Italian neighborhood of nearby East Orange with few Jewish residents. It seems that my grandpa was bullied in school while they lived there. My grandpa Milton was a smart kid. He liked sports but violin made a more lasting i...
Read more

The Shawangunk Mountains

-
Image
The Shawangunk Mountains sit at a special spot on the continent. In Southeastern New York state, the Appalachian Mountain range follows a general pattern that continues all the way to Virginia, and to some extent down to Alabama. Driving across these mountains, you will cross bedrock in chronological order of its formation. Let's take Route 17 starting at the New Jersey border. The Ramapo Mountains in Rockland and Orange Counties, part of the Crystalline Appalachians, have extremely ancient gneiss bedrock. It was uplifted from deep in the earth's crust and now forms a resistant highlands. From the town of Monroe on through the rest of Orange County, the gneiss recedes below the surface and one encounters rolling terrain of the Great Appalachian Valley, made up of somewhat less ancient deep ocean sediments. Crossing into Sullivan County, the road ascends Shawangunk Ridge. Here, resting on top of the Great Valley's shale, is a massive amount of white conglomerate composed o...
Read more