Its full title is Violin Concerto No. 5, K. 219
"Turkish.” The nickname “Turkish”
comes from the third movement’s deviation from a minuet into an exotic melody
associated with Turkish music, though not necessarily truly from Turkey.
I'm not going to post the entire concerto, just the
third movement. That’s where the Turkish
excursion takes place. I think it
transforms the entire last movement. The
rondo form is based on a returning melody alternating with a cadenza. This third movement uses a very stately minuet
as its rondo melody, and then at about 3:45 transitions into the Turkish
section, and that lasts for two and a quarter minutes, returning da capo to the minuet.
Here’s what the program notes from the Toronto Symphony says about this third movement.
The finale is an urbane
minuet that unfolds, at first, in a perfectly rondo form. But just
when the end seems nigh, Mozart interpolates an episode even more astonishing
than the Adagio in the first movement: a hundred and thirty bars of the
sort of tongue-in-cheek “Turkish” music he used in works like The Abduction
from the Seraglio. All of the conventional building-blocks of
eighteenth-century “Turkish”music are here: the key of A minor, march-like 2/4
time, drone basses, “gypsy” violin writing, leaping themes, pervasive
chromaticism, “exotic” melodic intervals like the augmented second, repeated
notes, frequent ornamentation, and grotesque, and percussive scoring. This
episode has a handful of melodies of its own, several borrowed from folk music,
arranged to form a separate little movement—a rondo within the rondo. When it’s
over, the minuet returns to complete its appointed rounds, and like the first
movement the finale ends quietly, wittily, with a little arpeggio decorated
with grace notes—a wink and a smile.
Programme Note by Kevin
Bazzana © 2013
Yes, “rondo within a rondo” is the perfect way
to describe it. Besides the structural peculiarity,
what really gets me is the sharp contrast between a reserved 18th
century European classism with an exotic, exuberant, and wild foreignism.
Here is the third movement with Gideon Kremer (soloist),
Nicholas Harnoncourt (conductor), Wiener Philharmoniker orchestra. Listen for the transition at just after 3:45, and after listening to the entire movement, try to answer this question: Is the "Turkish" excursion integral to the entire piece or does it sound like two separate pieces yoked together?
If you go to Youtube you’ll be able to find both the
first and second movements. If you have
a half hour, listen to all three movements in succession as meant to be
heard. The recording I own is with ItzhakPerlman (soloist), James Levine (conductor), and also with the Wiener Philharmoniker orchestra
and I highly recommend it.
So does it sound integral? I think it does.
I do think it sounds integral. No matter how "wild" or "foreign" that section, it still sounds like Mozart to me. It's like he can't hide, no matter what he writes, lol.
ReplyDeletethe violinist is a little disconcerting to watch. that's just me, I guess. I couldn't stop thinking he looked liked an aged Napoleon Dynamite dancing around. eeek.
Mozart to me is magical to play, with the exception of the bassoon concerto I had to play for a college recital. Hated it. But orchestral pieces, or woodwind quintet -- so much fun! Beethoven as well.
Oh and sorry for the multiple comments, but I couldn't help think of this:
ReplyDeletehttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kc34Uj8wlmE
Wow, loved the Brubeck. I wish I knew his work better. That does seem like it mirors the Mozart I selected. I can't put my finger on it but they do seem related.
ReplyDeleteYeah Gideon Kremer is disconcerting to watch. Probably because he's not that attractive...lol. I wanted to pick someone easier on the eyes, like Hillery hahn or Anne Sophie Mutter, but no one attractive played this on youtube. But I have to say Kremer is an excellent violinist.
Oh yes, absolutely. Just need to close the eyes...:)
Delete