Rittersaal des Residenz, Domquartier
Mozart: Symphony in C major after the Overture to Il re pastore, KV 208, reconstructed by Ulrich Leisinger; Divertimento no.11 in D major for oboe, two horns, two violins, viola, and bass, KV 251, ‘Nannerl Septet’; Il re pastore: ‘Vanne a regnar, ben mio,’ arr. Leisinger
Karim Zech: Concerto for piano four hands and ensemble (world premiere)
Members of the Orquesta Iberacademy Medellín
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| Images: Wolfgang Lienbacher |
In March 1767, in the Rittersaal (Knights’ Hall) of the Salzburg Residenz, the eleven-year-old Mozart led the premiere of the first part of his sacred Singspiel Die Schuldigkeit des ersten Gebots. (The second and third parts, for which the music, composed by others, is now lost, were given in two performances later that month.) Eight years later, in April 1775, Mozart returned to conduct the first and, similarly for a long time, only performance of Il re pastore, commissioned to celebrate the visit Archduke Maximilian Francis’s visit to Salzburg. It is a room, then, and not only a palace steeped in history—all the more so for those of us working in one way or another on Mozart.
Given that particular history, it was fitting to hear music from Il re pastore in a concert given by a group of young soloists from the Orquesta Iberacademy Medellín, led by violinist Krzysztof Wiśniewsiki. First was Ulrich Leisinger’s reconstruction and arrangement of the symphony Mozart fashioned from the opera, probably the same year, mindful that it was unlikely to be heard again any time soon in its entirety. The overture became the first movement, the aria ‘Intendo, amico rio’ with a little alteration the slow movement. A new Presto assai movement, traditionally assigned the Köchel number KV 102, was composed as a finale. The music naturally sounds different when heard by an ensemble of soloists rather than a chamber or full orchestra, but it is not a large space and one’s ears readily adjust, not least in a spirited performance such as this. Playing was cultivated and stylish; sensible tempi were chosen, and there was a proper sense of forward propulsion. The transition into pastoral Andantino was well handled, the first but not the last opportunity for oboist Juan David Capote Velásquez to shine. In a characterful reading of the finale, melodic and harmonic surprises registered keenly. In Leisinger’s arrangement of the duet ‘Vanne a regnar, ben mio,’ Elisa and Aminta’s voices assigned to flute (Juan Manel Montoya Flórez) and oboe, there was a lovely sense of dialogue between instruments, the style and occasion of Mozart’s serenata nicely recaptured.
In between, we heard the so-called Nannerl Septet with ‘Marcia francese’ following but not preceding. Its opening Molto allegro offered well-pointed playing, vigorous yet graceful, with telling yet unexaggerated articulation. The ensuing minuet and trio imparted due sense of the open-air serenade, followed by a lyrical, poised ‘Andantino’ with another gorgeous oboe solo at its heart. The second minuet (with variations) benefited from a strong rhythmic profile, full of incident that did not impede but rather proved the vehicle for the music’s unfolding. If it was a pity that the ‘Rondeau’ lost its way, that sometimes happens and the music restarted without undue fuss. The playing was more than infectious enough to compensate. The closing march was given with a winning lilt.
Mozart is not the only Salzburg composer, Leisinger reminded us, introducing the final work on the programme, a first performance for today rather than the eighteenth century: that of Karim Zech’s concerto for piano four hands and ensemble. Mozart’s writing for piano four hands and two pianos may in some sense have served (or not) as inspiration, but the twenty-one-year-old Zech proved very much his own person, both as composer and pianist, here joined by regular duet partner Johann Zhao and the excellent young conductor Alvaro Rodrigo Juica Paitan. Zech has spoken, Leisinger told us, of attraction to the impulsive quality in Mozart, as well as his thematic prodigality; he also admired, as did I, the spontaneity of the Medellín players. In four movements, each separated by a cadenza, it offered a splendid calling card, just as Il re pastore had for Mozart, seeking to impress the visiting Archduke as a potential patron. That was not to be, although Max Franz would later, as Archbishop-Elector of Cologne, prove a crucial figure in the early career of Beethoven.
Back to 2026: Zech’s first movement plunged us immediately into a world of distinctive, even arresting musical material. One might, trying broadly to characterise it, say that it was post-Second Viennese School, but any such background, if it existed at all, seemed fully assimilated. Zech’s writing for all instruments, not only piano, was here captivating and coherent, any echoes of other music(s) integrated in a musical labyrinth of its own. Jazz inflections prefigured a more strongly big band element of the fourth movement. Zech’s solo cadenza was the first, perhaps more overtly in the line of Schoenberg, which elicited no complaints from me. The often riotous second movement, a young person’s music and all the better for it, gave the impression of continuing the argument of the first, but in new ways. The musicians evidently relished Zech’s challenges and rose to them. The second cadenza, Zhao’s, was more of a slow, yet far from relaxed interlude, Zech assisting where required inside the piano, as both did for the third movement, piano sounds often engaging in duos and trios with other percussion instruments. The third cadenza, for piano duet, offered both complement and contrast, leading straight into an eclectic yet integrated and directed finale. In the first of two encores, the piano duo offered a paraphrase on Figaro’s aria ‘Non più andrai’, before the ensemble bade a captivating farewell with what I imagine may have been music from Colombia.
Mark Berry
