Mozart - Serenade No. 10 'Gran Partita'

Philippe Herreweghe’s masterful way with musical interpretation borders on the revelatory. Put him before a band of instrumentalists (and/or vocalists) who share his commitment to delivering performances which respect the practices of the past, and you can almost see the score he’s conducting. His attention to detail and zeal for Historically Informed Performance is not just evident in large-scale symphonies and masses. It’s equally clear in smaller works such as Mozart’s exquisitely formed 'Gran Partita' - his Serenade No. 10, scored for 12 woodwinds and double bass (which is occasionally replaced by a contrabassoon).

Invitation to a dance

The work opens with a firm but warm announcement from the ensemble, through which a clarinet picks out a simple tune that leads to a call and response between it and the other woodwinds.

They then tread together steadily towards what’s usually, on other CD recordings of this work, a separate second movement (the first and second movements are rightly treated as one in this performance, as they’re played attacca). Now the pace steps up: the instrumentalists sharing a cantering, dance-like melody.

There’s no escaping the mood of an 18th-century dance as the third movement gets underway, albeit less excitedly than the one that preceded it. It’s a model of elegance and effortless refinement, befitting of a scene from a costume drama where Austen-esque characters are all etiquette on the outside and passion beneath their society veneers. Herreweghe keeps a keen eye on his players, yet still they manage to give their chaperone the slip briefly (T2-5:23) to enjoy a freer, more playful episode.

Feelings revealed and concealed

The fourth movement adagio is a love song, begun by the oboe over a yearning introduction by the lower woodwinds, and taken up by the clarinet and bassoon. Soon, all of the instruments are singing it – pining, perhaps, for whomever won their hearts in that polite dancing earlier.

We’re returned quickly to the ballroom with the start of the fifth movement; its compelling rhythm urging us back to the dance floor. Yet all is not quite as it seems. This dance has a dark heart, and not even the entry of a cheerful waltz (T4-3:08) distracts from this darkness – the music speaking more of betrayal than betrothal.

Romance, reflection and rollicking

From a dark heart to the gentle heart of this work. The sixth movement recalls the tenderness of the fourth; its unpretentious beauty traded for some busy ensemble playing (T5-3:10) before melting back into romantic longing. And then to the seventh movement, and its delightful theme and variations: a mixture of contemplation and child-like gaiety, throughout which Herreweghe keeps lines clear and instrumental voices distinct.

The finale of this work could hardly be more unbuttoned than the reserved movements that begin it. It’s as blithe and carefree as two sisters dashing madly round a summer garden, barefooted and laughing. Herreweghe captures perfectly its humour, making for an ending that can only be happy.