Flute Concerto

Some years ago, BBC Radio featured a discussion programme in which eminent musicians were asked to suggest two composers for the ultimate air flight to heaven. Each musician, using skilful advocacy, puffed their respective choices knowing that only two of their favourites would make it. The rest were summarily jettisoned from the celestial jumbo. It was a matter of some surprise that Mozart was not included in the initial list but, when questioned on this omission by the panel chairman, there was universal agreement that the heavenly Mozart was already fully installed in heaven by right. Such is the esteem in which the majority of musicians hold this sublime composer. His character, though, was perhaps less than faultless - he was certainly not the man you would invite for the weekend if your daughters were around! This contrast between musical perfection and day-to-day imperfection makes for a fascinating social study. The splendid film "Amadeus" certainly portrays just how rumbustious Mozart could be - well worth seeing if you have missed it so far.

However, the music is the important ingredient. The First Flute Concerto was composed in Mannheim when Mozart was twenty-two years old. This year, 1778, was an eventful one for our genius. Firstly, his mother died and then he was spurned by his first major love, Aloysia Weber (he eventually married her younger sister, Constanze). Twenty-two seems young enough, but already he had become a legend throughout Europe for both his skill at the keyboard and a long list of compositions dating back to piano pieces written when he was but six years of age (and still played today). Operas, symphonies, concertos and sonatas all flowed from his pen with consummate ease and inspiration.

The Flute Concerto is laid out in the true classical tradition with an energetic first movement and a poised Rondo framing a slow movement of great beauty and feeling. To emphasise this change of expression, Mozart replaces the two orchestral oboes with soft-toned flutes and instructs the strings to play with mutes - a magical effect. A further lovely touch is the composer's subtlety in ending the Concerto in a serene rather than bombastic mood.