Angela Hewitt - Mozart: Piano Sonatas K279-284 & 309 (2022)

‘Endless hours of joy and wonder’ is how Angela Hewitt sums up the insights and rewards of playing and recording Mozart’s piano sonatas, and a similar experience awaits listeners to these remarkable accounts, the first release in a complete cycle.
If this first volume is anything to go by, the journey will be a joy…Hewitt makes them sound effortless. Her articulation is clean, the pedalling lightly judicious, her fingers nimble and strong, the ornamentation always tasteful, while the clarity of her approach brings out the individual character of each sonata, each movement.

I am sure I’m not the only pianist to have heard it said many times over the years that Mozart’s piano sonatas, especially the early ones, are not that inspired, not that interesting—that they are overshadowed by his piano concertos. The American pianist and composer Edward MacDowell (1860-1908) seemed certain of this when he wrote:
It is time to cast aside this shibboleth of printer’s ink and paper and look the thing itself straight in the face. It is a fact that Mozart’s sonatas are compositions entirely unworthy of the author of The Magic Flute or of any composer with pretensions to anything beyond mediocrity. They are written in a style of flashy harpsichord virtuosity such as Liszt never descended to.
I love youthful compositions (thinking of Bach’s early works, the first Beethoven sonatas, Messiaen’s Préludes). It’s fascinating to see the unique talent there from the start and how quickly it develops. To brush aside Mozart’s piano sonatas is of course entirely ridiculous. Close study brings us endless hours of joy and wonder, and many challenges as well. I think that’s the reason for disparaging comments such as those above: people don’t make a big enough effort to discover all that is there.

At this point in my life, having paid my dues to Bach and Beethoven, it seemed a logical and exciting choice to commence a survey of the Mozart sonatas, and I was delighted when, after figuring out the timings of them all, I realized that I could record them chronologically on three double CDs (some of us still think in terms of CDs!). This first double album is dedicated to sonatas 1-7, the first six of which, amazingly, seem to have been written in the space of a year.

Köchel dated these works from 1778, which we now know is far too late. It’s probable that some were written in Salzburg in 1774 (maybe even earlier?), and fairly certain that the first six were all ready for performance when Mozart was in Munich for a few months from mid-December 1774 to March 1775 (for the premiere of his opera La finta giardiniera). In a letter dated 21 December 1774, his father Leopold writes to his wife Anna Maria, telling her to instruct Mozart’s sister, Nannerl, to ‘bring copies of Wolfgang’s sonatas’ with her when she comes to Munich.

What is more important, however, is to consider the instrument on which Mozart would have played them. Brought up with the harpsichord, Mozart was also very familiar with the clavichord, and indeed from 1769 onwards there was always one in the Mozart home. The clavichord, despite its limited range of dynamics, was better able to imitate the human voice—even able to produce some vibrato. As for the fortepiano, it was rare to find one in Salzburg in 1774. The young Mozart no doubt had played fortepianos in London—where, at the age of eight, he studied with Johann Christian Bach (an aficionado of that instrument) for several months—and in Munich in 1775; but it wasn’t until 1782 that he purchased a Walter fortepiano for his own home in Vienna.

‘Translating’ these works to the modern piano requires a lightness and clarity of touch, very scant use of the sustaining pedal, a great deal of emphasis on articulation and phrasing, attention to the harmonies and the rapid changes of expression they create, and above all a beautiful singing tone. Mozart’s keyboard music cries out to be sung (not plucked like on the harpsichord), so the invention of the fortepiano and its ability to imitate the cadence of the human voice must have been a huge inspiration to him.

As a boy he had spent long stretches of time in Italy (in fact a total of two years spread over three visits), during which he had ample opportunity to fully absorb the Italian school of bel canto. There is also the famous story of his hearing Allegri’s Miserere sung in Rome’s Sistine Chapel in 1770, after which he wrote it out from memory (it was not yet published). All those runs in Mozart’s keyboard music: they are not just to show off the player’s technique. They are much more than that. Each note of each run has to be sung as though one were a great opera singer, telling a story.

Those last three words, telling a story, take us to another aspect of his music. As Kenneth Clark wrote in his survey of Civilisation, Mozart had ‘a passionate interest in human beings, and in the drama of human relationships’. This is obvious in his operas, of course, but his piano works are also full of characters, dialogue and drama. Clark also writes of his ‘peculiar kind of melancholy, a melancholy amounting almost to panic, which so often haunts the isolation of genius. Mozart felt it quite young.’ Indeed, we hear all of this already in these early sonatas.

The first four bars of the opening allegro of Sonata No 1 in C major, K279, sound as though Mozart is warming up at the keyboard. Only in the fifth bar do we get a bit of melody. But that opening five-note figure in the left hand refuses to go away, and even gets inverted in the right hand in bar 33. Each musical motif has its own character and plays a part in the action. The change into E major in bar 17 takes us by surprise, and the runs in the right hand in bars 22-25 could easily, as so often is the case in Mozart, portray laughter. The development section, after the repeat, makes much of that opening figure, leading us through a series of modulations to end up in F major. The most interesting and expressive bars of the movement come as a little deviation in the recapitulation (bars 62-67), with a sequence of harmonies that Mozart would use often throughout his life—that whole descending passage being one big sigh before the fun begins again.

Let’s remind ourselves that the whole concept of adding a lot of dynamics (especially crescendos and diminuendos) was still fairly new at the time, and many amateurs would have needed guidance in what to do to bring out the best in the music on the new fortepiano. Mozart didn’t need to write in dynamics for himself; indeed, several of the later sonatas have hardly any at all. But that doesn’t mean you should play without. That would be terrible! As my esteemed colleague and Mozart scholar Robert Levin points out, a forte marking could also be an ‘indication of intensity (or warmth), and not merely of loudness’. Even so, Mozart’s music comes alive when the dynamics are very audible and not just done half-heartedly.

It is interesting to see germs of pieces we know will appear in the future in these early works. Such is the case with the andante of this first sonata—a lyrical movement in F major. The repeated chords in the left hand (bars 22-25) immediately remind us of the andante in Mozart’s Piano Concerto No 21 in C major, K467, written some ten years later, not to mention the constant triplet rhythm throughout. When Leopold Mozart wrote to Breitkopf in Leipzig, trying to get these sonatas published, he mentioned that they were written ‘in the same style as those of C P E Bach—with varied repeats’. Mozart didn’t leave us any ‘varied repeats’, except for the adagio variation of K284. But he must have added ornamentation when playing them himself, and so I’ve done the same, especially in the cadenza-like bars (41 & 42) that lead to the recapitulation.

The closing allegro is very Haydnesque in its playfulness and not at all easy to play well. (I like to stick to an allegro tempo rather than a presto; it seems to me that Mozart makes an important distinction between the two, as he does also between andante and adagio.) By today’s high technical standards, these sonatas are considered child’s play, but Mozart thought otherwise, and wrote to his father on 4 February 1778 after hearing Aloysia Weber tackle them: ‘Would you believe it, she played my difficult sonatas at sight, slowly but without missing a single note!’

It’s lovely when Mozart begins a work with a movement in 3/4 time. Such is the case with Sonata No 2 in F major, K280. Its character is that of a lively minuet, very similar to Piano Concerto No 14 in E flat major, K449. The ‘assai’ added to the allegro means fast enough but not hurried. The young Mozart tries out all different sorts of motifs, figurations, articulations, harmonic sequences and orchestral touches (such as the bass octaves in bar 27) in this seemingly naive movement, which, along with Sonata No 1, Mozart and his sister considered the most difficult of the first six in the cycle.

The adagio second movement takes us completely by surprise. A precursor of the sublime adagio of Piano Concerto No 23 in A major, K488, it is a siciliano in F minor, and stands out as a piece of considerable depth and maturity for one so young. Listening to this movement, we can well understand why Haydn proclaimed, with tears in his eyes, that Mozart’s playing was unforgettable and touched his heart. Those Italian singers Mozart had heard so often as a boy are beautifully portrayed here, and the simple melody cries out to be tastefully ornamented during the repeats.

High spirits return with the presto finale, like the first movement in triple time but now 3/8. When we recorded it I tried a faster tempo, but then the suspenseful effect of the rests in bars 3-5 was lost and the run passages and broken octaves in the right hand just sounded scrambled, even if precise. The character of the dotted theme in bars 38-41 also got lost. Mozart and his father, by several accounts, were not fans of excessively fast tempos. He begged his sister Nannerl not to practise the virtuoso passages in Clementi’s sonatas too much ‘so that she may not spoil her quiet, even touch and that her hand may not lose it natural lightness, flexibility and smooth rapidity’. Character is always more important than speed.

Sonata No 3 in B flat major, K281, has long been in my performance repertoire. If these sonatas were indeed written in this order, then Mozart obviously made great strides in a matter of not just months but probably weeks. Listening on YouTube to the opening four bars of every possible pianist playing this sonata is an interesting study in how many decisions need to be taken even in such seemingly easy music. Firstly, do you start the trill on the note or on the upper note? How long do you trill for? Do you add an ending to the trill or not? How much pedal do you use? (There is really no need for any but it’s amazing how many pianists simply can’t play without!) How short or long do you make the chords which are not dotted? And of course there is always the question of tempo (best decided by what comes later and by taking the time to make the staccato runs speak without heaviness). You can listen to find out my answers. The movement requires agility, lightness but also lyricism, especially in the development section.

The teenaged Mozart was quick to notice and respond to feminine charms after a childhood spent mainly in the company of his family (he never had a formal education but was taught at home). It’s touching to see him write ‘andante amoroso’ as the tempo marking of the second movement of this sonata. Never again did he use that adverb (‘in a tender, loving manner’), though goodness knows so much of his music portrays just that. Taken too slowly this movement dies; the long line of the first eight bars has to be in one breath. One can imagine the lovers singing a duet in the triplet motif in bars 28-31. The magical transition into A flat major in bar 74, preceded by that D flat in the bass, is what makes Mozart a genius.

The rondeau finale is marked allegro (but alla breve) and needs to be brilliant—but again a brilliance that does not result in a heavy touch. At times it sounds like a concerto movement (the little cadenza in bar 43 and the trill passages in bars 114-122), almost anticipating the last movement of the K333 sonata, in the same key. Mozart’s wit is everywhere, not just in the episodes but especially in bar 89 with that unexpected ending to the rondeau theme, taking us into E flat major. And he keeps up the humour right to the very end.

Sonata No 4 in E flat major, K282, is one I played as a child. Beginning with an adagio, it seems easy at first, but when you’re older you realize that to play it with something more than just a nice tone and nice phrasing takes it to a much higher level of difficulty. Mozart, once more the great singer in this movement, is very particular with his articulations and dynamics. It’s notable that the gorgeous three bars of the opening do not reappear in the recapitulation but rather are kept for the expressive coda tacked on at the end.

After this glorious opening, the two minuets might seem a bit simplistic, but by putting the emphasis on true dance gestures they generate a great deal of charm. The final allegro (not presto!) is fun and uncomplicated, requiring some nimble fingerwork.

The allegro of Sonata No 5 in G major, K283, is like a breath of fresh air on a sunny day. Its opening bars will bring smiles and many a fond recollection to all, perhaps more than any other Mozart sonata. There is much here for the student to learn and work on: how to separate the melody from the accompaniment in the opening; how to play evenly in the right hand while the bass has those unison octaves which must be shaped; precise observance of the articulations; fitting in those annoying trills at the end of bars 43 & 44; separation of the parts in bars 45 & 46 and 48 & 49. None of that is easy, but it must sound effortless.

The lovely, poised andante needs a great deal of artistry to come alive. If you don’t take it at a good walking pace, you will get stuck on those opening four Cs and have nowhere to go. The development section is particularly beautiful with its pleading and sighing dialogue, while the ascent to F major in bar 28 lifts the heart.

Up until now this sonata is quite manageable, even for the amateur. The concluding presto changes that (if you take it at the necessary zippy tempo). The development is terrific, switching to D minor and then with torrents of notes coming down the keyboard in the right hand. The left hand has to keep pace as well and be just as lyrical at times. The coda is a bit of a laugh since it consists of only two cadential chords. Smiles all round!

With Sonata No 6 in D major, K284, we can feel Mozart’s command of composition and keyboard technique grow by the minute. He was commissioned to write it in 1775 in Munich by Baron Thaddäus von Dürnitz, a patron, bassoonist and composer of sorts—though Mozart never got the promised money. This work is on a different scale from the previous sonatas, with a truly orchestral first movement. The theme presented in unison octaves, the jumping bass marking time, the right-hand tremolos imitating the violins—these are all tricks that would remain in his piano music from now on. The contrasting second theme, beginning alone in the top voice, and accompanied in its descent by first-inversion thirds, gives us a moment of tenderness in an otherwise brilliant and high-powered movement.

We have a first sketch of half of that movement which Mozart fortunately discarded before having a second go. I say fortunately because, reading it through, it’s amazing how some fairly ordinary first thoughts later turned into music of great inspiration.

There’s a wonderful diversity of slow movements in Mozart’s piano sonatas, and the ‘rondeau en polonaise’ in this sonata is one of the more unusual ones. A lot of pianists make it sound sentimental, but that’s wrong. As a former dancer I used to perform the polonaise: it’s an aristocratic dance, done with perfect posture and at a walking pace. Mozart subjects his theme to slight variations each time it returns. The little episode in F sharp minor in bar 47 suggests a moment of anxiety before we return to previously heard material in bar 53. The movement comes to a graceful close with a bow to your partner.

As a finale Mozart gives us a big set of variations that could almost stand by itself. The theme is yet another dance—this time a graceful gavotte. Each variation is beautifully crafted and needs careful attention to detail, using many different touches. Already in variation 3 things get quite busy. This is not a movement to be attempted by the faint-hearted. There’s a touching switch to the minor mode for variation 7 before fun and games commence again in No 8. Variation 9 reminds me of Beethoven in his Op 54 sonata—a seemingly naive theme interrupted by angry octaves in both hands. After some horn-like sonorities in variation 10 we arrive at the emotional heart of this sonata, variation 11.

This was the only sonata of the first six to be published in Mozart’s lifetime. In a letter of 17 October 1777 to his father, the young Mozart, extolling the virtues of Stein’s pianofortes, says how exquisite this piece sounded on the new instrument, with its even tone and escapement action. The first edition, published by Torricella in 1784, contains numerous alternative readings and, in the case of variation 11, marked adagio cantabile, a newly embellished version, with even more variants on the written-out repeats. Nobody but Mozart could have been responsible for these beautiful pages that speak so eloquently and yet transmit a feeling of total repose. He thus gives us an invaluable lesson in how he himself mastered the art of ornamentation.

After these minutes of pure beauty, he wraps things up very quickly, returning to earth with a happy and confident variation 12. It’s a terrific piece to play in public—something which Mozart himself did often.

On 23 September 1777 Mozart left Salzburg in the company of his mother to try to find a post—something which had been denied him in his home town. After an unsuccessful attempt in Munich, and a few weeks in Augsburg, they arrived in Mannheim some five weeks later. Here he met, for the second time, Christian Cannabich (1731-1798), the leader of the famous Mannheim orchestra—known then as the finest in Europe. Mozart wrote to his father after he attended a rehearsal:

I thought I should not be able to keep myself from laughing when I was introduced to the people there. Some who knew me by repute were very polite and fearfully respectful; others, however, who had never heard of me, stared at me wide-eyed, and certainly in a rather sneering manner. They probably think that because I am little and young, nothing great or mature can come out of me; but they will soon see.
Cannabich himself was very fond of Mozart, and the latter missed no opportunity to please: it was a matter of only a few days before he was composing a new piano sonata for his daughter, Rose, ‘who plays the piano really very prettily’. The resulting Sonata No 7 in C major, K309, seems to have been composed in just a few days. (Mozart admitted to writing the last movement on the morning of 8 November 1777.)

Mozart’s father remarked that the sonata had ‘something of the rather artificial Mannheim flavour about it, but only so much that it doesn’t spoil your own good taste’. The gestures of the opening allegro con spirito are definitely orchestral, and the famous Mannheim rocket is there—that ascending figure that first appears in bars 21 & 22. It is a perfect example of sonata form, with a second subject in the dominant (bar 35) preceded by two bars of introduction. Along the way we have the unexpected: like the switch to minor in bar 101—a fleeting moment of darkness. Putting the second subject in the left hand instead of the right in the recapitulation (bar 129) is also a nice touch—and not that easy to execute.

The second movement is marked ‘andante un poco adagio’: not dragging but definitely slower than a walking pace. It was conceived, Mozart tells us, as a portrait of young Rose: ‘a sweet, pretty girl, just like the andante. For her age she is sensible and level-headed; she is serious, and doesn’t talk too much, though what she does say is charming and pleasant.’ The mood reminds me somewhat of the slow movement (also in F major) of Piano Concerto No 25 in C major, K503. The way Mozart embellishes both themes (the hesitating one at the beginning, and the soaring second theme starting in bar 33) is extraordinarily beautiful.

The closing rondo, marked ‘allegretto grazioso’, is another fine movement and one which I particularly enjoy playing. That tempo marking in Mozart is not fast. You need time for the passagework (think ahead to the right-hand tremolos in bar 58 for which you mustn’t slow down!) and the elegance and pomp (bars 19-22) of the theme. Again I see a comparison with K503 and its last movement—also an allegretto—especially when the key shifts to F major (bar 116). That similar modulation in K503 (bar 163) is surely one of the greatest moments in all of Mozart’s work. Mozart has one more surprise in store for us at the end. We think he’s going to end with a loud cadence (bar 244), but no; he instead tacks on a fond farewell (to Rose?), almost a tender goodnight.

Angela Hewitt © 2022

Tracklist
1. Mozart: Piano Sonata in C major, K279 - 1: Allegro (7:49)
2. Mozart: Piano Sonata in C major, K279 - 2: Andante (7:23)
3. Mozart: Piano Sonata in C major, K279 - 3: Allegro (5:22)
4. Mozart: Piano Sonata in F major, K280 - 1: Allegro assai (7:26)
5. Mozart: Piano Sonata in F major, K280 - 2: Adagio (7:47)
6. Mozart: Piano Sonata in F major, K280 - 3: Presto (4:50)
7. Mozart: Piano Sonata in B flat major, K281 - 1: Allegro (7:26)
8. Mozart: Piano Sonata in B flat major, K281 - 2: Andante amoroso (6:54)
9. Mozart: Piano Sonata in B flat major, K281 - 3: Rondeau: Allegro (4:37)
10. Mozart: Piano Sonata in E flat major, K282 - 1: Adagio (7:40)
11. Mozart: Piano Sonata in E flat major, K282 - 2: Menuetto I & II (4:35)
12. Mozart: Piano Sonata in E flat major, K282 - 3: Allegro (3:34)
13. Mozart: Piano Sonata in G major, K283 - 1: Allegro (6:10)
14. Mozart: Piano Sonata in G major, K283 - 2: Andante (7:02)
15. Mozart: Piano Sonata in G major, K283 - 3: Presto (6:36)
16. Mozart: Piano Sonata in D major, K284 - 1: Allegro (7:57)
17. Mozart: Piano Sonata in D major, K284 - 2: Rondeau en polonaise: Andante (4:01)
18. Mozart: Piano Sonata in D major, K284 - 3: Tema: Andante – (0:57)
19. Mozart: Piano Sonata in D major, K284 - 4: Variation 1 – (0:59)
20. Mozart: Piano Sonata in D major, K284 - 5: Variation 2 – (1:06)
21. Mozart: Piano Sonata in D major, K284 - 6: Variation 3 – (1:06)
22. Mozart: Piano Sonata in D major, K284 - 7: Variation 4 (1:09)
23. Mozart: Piano Sonata in D major, K284 - 8: Variation 5 – (1:09)
24. Mozart: Piano Sonata in D major, K284 - 9: Variation 6 (1:05)
25. Mozart: Piano Sonata in D major, K284 - 10: Variation 7: Minore (1:34)
26. Mozart: Piano Sonata in D major, K284 - 11: Variation 8: Maggiore – (0:57)
27. Mozart: Piano Sonata in D major, K284 - 12: Variation 9 – (0:57)
28. Mozart: Piano Sonata in D major, K284 - 13: Variation 10 (1:02)
29. Mozart: Piano Sonata in D major, K284 - 14: Variation 11: Adagio cantabile (4:17)
30. Mozart: Piano Sonata in D major, K284 - 15: Variation 12: Allegro (1:07)
31. Mozart: Piano Sonata in C major, K309 - 1: Allegro con spirito (8:58)
32. Mozart: Piano Sonata in C major, K309 - 2: Andante un poco adagio (5:55)
33. Mozart: Piano Sonata in C major, K309 - 3: Rondo: Allegretto grazioso (6:29)