Mozart and the Orchestra

On the Oboe

Claus Johansen

During the classical period (roughly from 1750 to 1820) some 10,000 symphonies were composed in the western world. Obviously this music is highly varied in nature, but what does unite the works is a number of rules and conventions. The body of the orchestra always comprises a string ensemble with the violins on top, violas in the middle, and cellos and basses at the bottom. The music for strings is almost always four-part. If there are wind instruments, in the vast majority of cases two oboes and two horns are employed; trumpets and timpani may be added on festive occasions. Occasionally the oboes are replaced or augmented by flutes, and if there are enough players a bassoon or two may support the cellos. Clarinets were a rarity in Mozart’s younger days, but when he had the chance to use them he did so greedily. There were none in Salzburg, where he mainly made do with strings, oboes and horns. This combination was the standard one at most courts, churches and opera houses in Europe, and used to be referred to as the Neapolitan arrangement; this is the orchestra Mozart used for almost all the symphonies of his youth and it comprises the core of many of his later compositions for larger orchestras. Convention dictates that the strings, particularly the first violins, predominate. The four wind instruments serve more or less as accompaniment. The oboes come in for the loud bits, where they play the same music as the strings, just as they did in the baroque, in order to give the music more body and colour. If the tempo is too rapid or the line to virtuoso, the composer gives them a simplified version of the violin parts; often they merely play long chords or fanfares. On occasion one or both oboes may be allowed an intelligent little comment on what is going on; just a couple of bars, a small transition from one theme to another. If the orchestra sports a virtuoso amongst its members, he might even get a delicate little solo in the slow movement.

In Mozart’s day the oboe was relatively new, with about a century to its name. The classical oboe was closely related to the old French baroque oboe. It was usually made of boxwood; its bore was narrower and it was shorter than its predecessor. Its timbre was thus lighter and its top more reliable, but like the baroque oboe it still only had two keys (for bottom C and E sharp, which the player could not otherwise reach without dislocating his right hand). Its compass was just over two octaves, which a proper oboe player could achieve from just six holes and good training that enabled him to cover the holes fully, half, or just a quarter. The sound was produced by a bamboo reed, which the player had to make for himself or acquire for an astronomical sum. Besides dexterous fingering the instrument required well-developed breathing techniques and fabulous lip control, as the high notes demanded more air and another embouchure. What’s more, the instrument didn’t play on pitch of its own accord, so the player needed a well-tuned ear and very rapid responses. In other words the oboe was an instrument for true pros. Anyone who wanted to write a symphony had to know all this. Mozart did; and more.

In his youth the best oboe players came from Italy and Bohemia. Mozart worked closely with Gioseffe Secchi, who played in Turin and at the court of the Elector of Bavaria. In Salzburg he met the Venetian virtuoso Giuseppe Ferlendis, and the Bohemian, Joseph Fiala. But he wrote his best oboe solos for the German, Friedrich Ramm, who played in the elite orchestra at Mannheim. His full-bodied timbre and astonishing technique (which enabled him to reach F’’’) inspired Mozart to compose some of his finest soloists. In Vienna, where there were more than 400 professional wind players in Mozart’s day, he met the virtuosos Wendt and Trienbsee, whose singing style resulted in some of the most beautiful oboe solos in the operas, piano concertos and late symphonies.

Mozart knew how oboes should sound, and perhaps especially how they should not. In 1787 he wrote in a letter about the acclaimed Mr. Fischer from London: "Possibly he plays in some old-fashioned style? Not at all! The long and short of it is that he plays like a bad beginner. Young André, who took some lessons from Fiala, plays a thousand times better. And then his concertos! His own compositions! Why, each ritornello lasts a quarter of an hour; and then our hero comes in, lifts up one leaden foot after the other and stamps on the floor with each in turn. His tone is entirely nasal, and his held notes like the tremulant on the organ."