These two concertos
are the only piano concertos Mozart
wrote in the minor key, and they are
passionate, dark and dramatic. In fact,
they’re almost operatic in their sweep
and huge expressive range. Were there
still people around who believe that
Mozart had no depth then let them listen
to these works.
The D minor Concerto
begins in uncertainty, rather in the
manner of the 38th Symphony
and the overture to Don Giovanni
before a tutti brings things together.
After that Mozart builds a big climax
which only subsides to allow the piano
to enter, in a most understate way.
He’s not interested in the themes, he
just wants to ruminate on the mood of
the material. It’s a bold move and one
which unsettles the listener for you
don’t know where you are, musically
speaking, and for quite some time the
melodic ideas are all held by the orchestra
with the piano accompanying. Then the
dialogue between soloist and orchestra
begins and Barenboim keeps a high degree
of tension throughout this tortured
music. The cadenza, by Beethoven and
arranged by Edwin Fischer, is no mere
overt display, it continues the argument
all the way to the desperation of the
coda. The release which the Romance
brings is most welcome. Barenboim hits
exactly the right tone and makes the
contrast between the movements all the
more striking, bringing out the operatic
similarities with some most expressive
playing. The anguished middle section
comes as quite a shock after all the
calm but the beast is ultimately quelled
and order returns. This is marvelous
stuff. Beginning with a Mannheim Rocket,
the finale races away, tension returning
to the music. Barenboim takes a very
brisk view of this music and it can
take the helter–skelter pace for this
is music of torment. The episodes in
this rondo are quieter, more relaxed,
but there’s always the worry that this
easier music will be shattered; however,
it is the good natured music which brings
the Concerto to its whirlwind
conclusion. This is a masterful interpretation,
soloist and orchestra as one in bringing
out all the angst contained within much
of the music.
The start of K491
couldn’t be more different from that
of K466. Here the orchestra sets
off with a purpose, sometimes gentle
and thoughtful, sometimes dramatic and
forthright. Trumpets and drums add to
the excitement Mozart whips up before
the almost non–chalent entry of the
soloist. There’s more overt display
here for the piano than in K466 but
the music is still dark and challenging.
The cadenza, when it comes, written
by Barenboim, is similar in manner to
the Beethoven cadenza for K466,
carrying forward the argument, and keeping
the pressure on the listener. The coda
snuffs out any hope of an happy ending,
and there is a glorious absence of rallentando
here. As with the earlier work, the
Larghetto is relaxed and comforting,
distinguished with some beautiful wind
playing. The variations of the finale
plunge us back into areas of uncertainty.
The fast coda leaves us in no uncertainty
that when the door is slammed shut that’s
that, there is no more. It’s quite a
shocking end and Barenboim makes it
heart-stoppingly severe.
Between the two concertos
there’s, quite needlessly, a performance
of the Piano Sonata in C, which
is a lovely piece, full of tunes and
welcome smiles, delightful in its innocence,
but this lighter fare has no place here.
The performances are
magnificent. Barenboim directs from
the keyboard and there’s a real feeling
of intimacy in the Concerto performances.
The English Chamber Orchestra is on
top form, supplying more than just an
accompaniment, and entering into the
musical argument at every step. The
sound is mellow and very well balanced.
The Sonata was recorded more recently
and the sound is bright and clear but
not as smooth as the concertos.
It’s good to be able
to welcome these fine performances back
into the catalogue.
Bob Briggs
Daniel Barenboim (piano and director)/English
Chamber Orchestra 
