Program Notes: Xian Conducts Mozart

GIOACHINO ROSSINI 
Overture to L'Italiana in Algeri (The Italian Girl in Algiers) [German edition] 
BORN: February 29, 1792, in Pesaro, Italy 
DIED: November 13, 1868, in Paris, France 
WORK COMPOSED: 1813 
WORLD PREMIERE: May 22, 1813, at the Teatro San Benedetto in Venice, Italy. 

Considered to be one of the greatest Italian composers of his time, Gioachino Rossini wrote L'italiana in Algeri (The Italian Girl in Algiers) when he was 21 years old. He’d already delivered 10 operas by that point, though only one had been a success. And he finished this next work fast — in less than a month. It was his second opera to achieve great success and is notable for being what Rossini dubbed a dramma giocoso, mixing dramatic (seria) and comic (buffa) opera styles. The Italian Girl in Algiers is two acts, centering on the Bey of Algiers, Mustaphà, who plots to marry his wife Elvira off to Lindoro, his Italian slave, and marry an Italian girl instead. Enter the storm that blows a vessel onto the shores of Algiers carrying the clever and charming Isabella, Lindoro’s lover. Mustaphà is bent on capturing her heart, but she and Lindoro hatch a plan to escape with help from Elvira. She manages to see them on their way while retaining the affection of her unsuspecting spouse, with whom she eventually reconciles. 

Widely recorded and a frequent orchestra staple, the Overture to The Italian Girl in Algiers is beloved for its quick mood switch: its distinctive opening of soft, leisurely pizzicato strings and gently singing oboe, and then — a sudden surge of sound from the full orchestra, which tapers off again before a boisterous return. It picks up speed while dancing along merrily, the sustained, manic energy fused with elegant, sparkling melodies and wild crescendos. A brief interlude of quiet finds the oboe reappearing with a perky yet meandering tune that’s picked up by flute before everything starts racing again. It’s music that cannot help but be infectiously joyous as it gets faster and louder, galloping to its high-spirited conclusion. 

Leilani Polk © 2026 

WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART 
Clarinet Concerto in A major, K. 622  
BORN: January 27, 1756, in Salzburg, Austria 
DIED: December 5, 1791, in Vienna, Austria 
WORK COMPOSED: 1791 
WORLD PREMIERE: October 1791, in Vienna, with Anton Stadler as soloist. 

Like his fantasy opera The Magic Flute and a handful of other works, Mozart’s sublime Clarinet Concerto in A major has a connection with his Masonic activities. The composer was close friends with Anton Stadler, esteemed clarinetist and fellow Mason. Despite his own distressing financial woes, Mozart lent Stadler money to the detriment of himself and his wife, Constanza. An official document relating to Mozart’s estate following his death indicates that Stadler had run up the equivalent of several thousand dollars in unpaid debt to Mozart. 

The clarinet was still a relatively new instrument in the final decade of the 18th century. No less than Franz Joseph Haydn, in fact, opined that it was Mozart who “taught us how to compose for the clarinet.” Mozart was drawn to its varied tonal colors that change throughout its extensive range. He actually composed the Clarinet Concerto for what is known as a basset clarinet, whose lowest notes are below that of the clarinet. No original manuscript exists for the Concerto, and clarinetists have to alter their parts slightly to accommodate the restrictions imposed by the lack of notes in the nether regions.  

The Concerto is cast in the standard fast—slow—fast format. The opening Allegro celebrates the clarinet’s ability to sing sensuously and with warm, edgeless radiance. The primary theme bears a family resemblance to the equivalent tune in Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 23 in the same key. Mindful of the clarinet’s expressive capabilities, the second theme reverts to the minor. Though a concerto, the delicacy of the writing for both soloist and orchestra suggests the intimacy of a chamber work. 

Simplicity at the service of emotional depth is the hallmark of the Adagio. As with Mozart’s final Piano Concerto No. 27, this slow movement shows how a great master achieves profound beauty through understatement and economy.  

The Rondo-finale, a typical format for a concerto, balances expected gaiety with episodes of somber introspection. Conventional wisdom suggests that the dark clouds in the Concerto’s emotional landscape reflect Mozart’s impending farewell to life. Yet despite the toll occasioned by his poor financial habits he was enjoying heightened respect and potentially higher earnings brought about by having been accepted into the service of Emperor Joseph II of Austria. His recently acquired position left him in a mood of optimistic anticipation, a far cry from the quasi-mystical notion that he sensed the approach of death.  

Steven Lowe © 2015, revised 2026 

WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART  
Symphony No. 35 in D major, K. 385, “Haffner” 
WORK COMPOSED: 1782–1783 
WORLD PREMIERE: March 23, 1783, in Salzburg, with Mozart conducting. 

In 1783, Mozart found himself strapped for time while organizing a concert for which he needed a new symphony. As any 18th-century composer would do under these pressing circumstances, Mozart “borrowed” from himself, writing to his father to send him the manuscript from a six-movement serenade he had written the previous summer to celebrate the ennoblement of Siegmund Haffner, mayor of Salzburg.  

The process of refashioning the existing material proved easy. He simply dropped two movements (the serenade’s march and one of its minuets), revised the scoring by adding flutes and clarinets, and created one of his most frequently performed symphonies, the “Haffner.” Thus reborn, the new symphony was performed with great success at its premiere. 

The “Haffner” opens with a majestic and bold theme, with an unusual two-octave leap in its initial notes. Rather than providing (as would be typical) a highly contrasting second theme, the composer makes only minor changes to the main tune, though the movement’s development section is rich in contrapuntal lessons learned through diligent study of Handel and Bach. 

A lovely Andante unfolds simply but with great warmth, its melodic line embellished by florid trills and other ornamentation. A rustic and vigorous Menuetto recalls Haydn more than Mozart’s wonted courtly treatment of this old dance form in triple meter. The finale, a rondo marked Presto, is supposed to be played “as fast as possible,” according to Mozart’s verbal instructions to the orchestra at the work’s premiere. This is music of wit and élan based on a tune the composer had used in his Singspiel (a German opera with spoken connective dialogue between musical numbers), The Abduction from the Seraglio. The quote is from Osmin’s aria, “Ah, I shall be triumphant,” a barbed reference to the composer’s “escape” from Salzburg, city of his birth but a place he grew to hate because of its provincialism and lack of support in his efforts to secure a viable post.    

Steven Lowe © 2006, revised 2026 

WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART 
Symphony No. 39 in E-flat major, K. 543  
WORK COMPOSED: 1788 
WORLD PREMIERE: There are no records of this work ever being performed in Mozart’s lifetime. 

An air of mystery and uncertainty has shrouded the last three of Mozart’s symphonies, of which No. 39 is the first of the trilogy. All three were written in 1788 but there is no evidence regarding a commission for any of them, a virtually unique circumstance in Mozart’s life where every composition came into being to fulfill a contract or obligation. Some commentators have suggested that Mozart may have written Nos. 39–41 in anticipation of a voyage to London that never materialized. 

The year 1788 was not a happy one for the composer. The great success of his seven years in Vienna seemed to slip away between the mounting of The Marriage of Figaro in 1786 and the writing of Don Giovanni a year later. The political satire of Figaro may have alienated Mozart’s fickle and nervous aristocratic patrons given the growing wave of discontent that would throw France into violent revolution in 1789. On a personal level, Mozart and his wife Constanza fell into poor health in 1788, forcing them to move into cheaper lodgings because of the composer’s reduced income. The death of Christoph Willibald Gluck in November 1787 created a vacuum among the compositional elite at the Hapsburg court, one that Mozart hoped to fill by being appointed as Gluck’s successor. The good news was that Emperor Joseph II named Mozart Court Chamber Music Composer; the bad news was that the salary was but 40 percent of what his predecessor had earned. 

Yet these cumulative woes did little to diminish the élan of the E-flat Symphony, K. 543. The music is prevailingly warm-hearted, fleet and optimistic. The first movement gets under way with a lengthy Adagio introduction that is noble in pacing, almost serenely assured and only occasionally marked by implied darker emotions. The Allegro grows out of a lovely, simple theme that undergoes rich transformation and development. Exuberant tuttis contrast with intimate asides from smaller subgroups, and the entire movement is songlike in its gracious unfolding. 

The spirit of song similarly infuses the slow movement, though the mood is more reflective than the opening Allegro. The middle section shows Mozart to be an imaginative colorist, adept at using instruments old and new (as, for instance, the then-still-evolving clarinet) in a fresh and forward-looking style. Hints of darker emotions surface briefly in two sections lying respectively in F-minor and E-flat minor. 

The rousing vigor of the Menuetto seems almost Haydnesque and points to the burly scherzos of Beethoven that lay just a few years hence. The woodwind-dominated Trio, with its lovely clarinet part, reminds us of Mozart’s great early influence on writing for the instrument. The humorous finale, dashing from the starting gate with a mercurial scalar theme, is filled with irrepressible joie de vivre that races undiminished until the very last note. 

Steven Lowe © 2006, revised 2026