Noteworthy

By Evan Davies

By 1788, the Vienna that Mozart had known when he’d first settled there seven years prior would have become a very different kind of city—one whose mood was soured by the uncertainties of the Austro-Turkish War, which Austria had entered that winter. 

And as Mozart also struggled with a veritable laundry list of personal calamities—including the recent death of his daughter Theresia, his wife’s ever-precarious health, the growing burden of financial debt, and the lingering sting of the audience’s disappointment in his recent opera, Don Giovanni—he too would have lived in this shadow of war. Rising food prices and a national financial crisis would have been on the mind of the composer as much as they were on the lips of Vienna’s many coffee house patrons, gossiping of the conflict. How would one find the inspiration to create music of such transcendence in a time like this?  

Social Tensions, Personal Pressures

Amidst this great tumult, compounded by what would have been a dreary, tepid summer thanks to Europe’s “Little Ice Age” at the time, Mozart did just that. Composing three symphonies in breathtaking succession—Nos. 39, 40, and 41—with the last only referred to as “Jupiter” posthumously, would reflect the monumental tensions of Mozart’s life and times, and of war and change. Its four thematically interwoven yet remarkably distinct movements would also showcase the composer’s technical and creative virtuosity. The work is heady, certainly. But as Guardian critic Tom Service wrote, Jupiter is a “symphony of extremes.” As such, it has become ubiquitous amongst masterworks.

An Enduring Mystery

It remains up for debate whether Mozart ever saw “Jupiter” performed in his lifetime. Some evidence points to one or more of the four movements being played at the Vienna Casino later in 1788. Mozart’s tour of Germany later that same year (and into 1789) may have also provided an opportunity. What is known is that Symphonies Nos. 40 and 41 were quickly circulated once finished. If Mozart had been present somewhere to hear his final composition and the audience’s response to it, then it is, for now, a moment forgotten in time.  

What’s in a Name?

The unmistakable martial character and rhythm of the “Jupiter” Symphony’s opening movement, marked “Allegro vivace”, may well have been influenced by the looming spectre of war hanging over Vienna. It’s no small wonder that it so easily conjured an image of ancient Rome’s chief deity, the god of gods, as well. 

Whatever Mozart had in mind while composing No. 41, it was not the title “Jupiter”—this came decades later. The composer’s son Franz claimed that it was German violinist and composer Johann Peter Salomon who first applied the moniker. Others have attributed it to the music publisher Johann Baptist Cramer.

Exploring the Four Movements

As a complete symphony, “Jupiter” is a deeply nuanced and wonderfully exhilarating experience. And yet, its four movements are remarkably distinct. 

An undeniable joy bounds forth with the opening movement, with trumpets and drums thrumming in regal bombast before woodwinds and violins expand the overall texture with precision and elegance. The next movement, marked “Andante cantibale”, presents a rich counterpoint in the form of a restful idyll. Third, the “Menuetto” presents a more airy, dreamlike take on a traditional Austrian folk dance, before the “Molto allegro” finale builds with a nimble Baroque energy, culminating in a crescendo of fugal elements. 

Mozart’s motivation for composing his final symphonic trilogy may never really be known. But what is certain is that,  in “Jupiter”, he left usan endlessly fascinating creation—one worth revisiting time and again.  

Experience the grandeur of Mozart’s Jupiter, led by Music Director Gustavo Gimeno, on June 4, 5, and 7 at Roy Thomson Hall, and June 8 at George Weston Recital Hall. Get your tickets now at TSO.CA.