CD Odyssey Disc 1955: Mozart

Welcome back. Today we dive once again into a genre I know very little about, which is a bit surprising how long both it (and I) have been around. At least for once I’m younger than the composition I’m writing about.

Disc 1955 is…Requiem

Artist: Mozart but also some other bloke named Sussmayr

Year of Release: 1791 (recording is from 1989)

What’s up with the Cover? This cover could be metal as easily as Mozart, with a dope-as-fuck skeleton rocking a shroud. It’s got hands on chest like it plans to sing along to the tune, but without any lungs that’s not going to go well for him/her.

I expect this photo is in some church somewhere (maybe All Saints Church in Newcastle-on-Tyne, where this album is recorded) but I couldn’t find definitive proof of that.

We also learn from the cover that this bit of Mozart magic is coming to you from Northern Sinfonia, which sounds like the name of some magical kingdom in a fantasy novel but is, in fact, a symphony in England.

How I Came To Know It: I found this album in a thrift store in Sidney. Classical treasures on the cheap – yeehaw!

How It Stacks Up: I have five Mozart albums. Well, actually only four – I got rid of the Coronation Mass after I reviewed it back at Disc 736 but it got reviewed, so it gets stacked. Anyway, of those five, I put “Requiem” in at…#4.

Technically, this isn’t 100% Mozart, since his widow had it finished with the help of some dude named Franz Xaver Sussmayr after Mozart died. Sussmayr, I have since learned, was a bit of a thing back in his day but in 2026 not so much. Wikipedia quotes some 19^th century dude named Max Dies who says Sussmayr is “smooth, pleasing, singable, but generally fashionably superficial,” which throws some shade, but frankly sounds kind of alright.

But I digress.

Ratings: 4 stars

Ever want to feel like something very important is happening, but do it safely seated in your living room or car? Mozart’s “Requiem” has what you need. For a song that is supposed to be a mass for the dead, this little ditty from the late 18^th century is quite lively.

Being a mass there’s a bunch of choral singing, delivered delightfully by the aforementioned North Sinfonians. The lead soprano is Yvonne Kenny and while the overall recording of this record suffers from the low-end loss of many of the CDs manufactured in the late eighties, her powerful tone cuts through all attempts at diminishment.

As I noted in the lede, this record swells with import and bombast. It’s practically a Carmina Burana minus the gallop. It is best played loud and then – when you realize the quieter parts are getting lost in the thrum of the car engine – louder still.

Across 46 minutes of playing time (classical music fits rather perfectly on a standard record, which I doubt is coincidence), Mozart finds ways to bring the melodic structure of the piece to a climax multiple times, all the while never making it feel repetitious.

Kenny’s vocals slice through the top of the tune like a cavalry saber (again, minus the gallop), and down in the low end there is a grounding bass (a guy named Gwynne Howell) if that’s what floats your boat (or ballasts it). Cursory research reveals both these folks are a bit of a big deal in the opera world (Kenny moreso), but despite some honest effort, I’m not a fan of opera, so they’re new to me. Anyway, they sound great as does the whole chorus and orchestra.

In terms of the lyrics, you’d think a requiem for the dead would be a somber and majestic sort of affair, but once you translate the Latin you’re in for shock, as Mozart goes for a fire and brimstone approach that would be equally at home on a heavy metal record.

That’s right, my friends, in the late 18^th century a mass for the dead was an opportunity to remind listeners that HELL awaits any miserable unbeliever. We’ve got God sitting in judgment:

“Then the judge seats himself and tries;
No shifting from his all-seeing eyes
Nor ‘scaping then. Who e’er deserves it dies.”

Rather disconcerting. Later our narrator cries out to the “Dread King” for clemency (you can see why) and later still appeals for Christ to save the souls of the “faithfully departed from the hand of hell, and from the deep pit.”

The language of the piece is beautiful and while harsh and threatening at the front end, takes on a repentant and merciful tone as it unfolds. Also, it would make a great music video. Someone should do that.

But I digress.

The whole of “Requiem” is sung in Latin, but even without a translation, the piece has a rousing and metaphysical quality that appeals to something beyond the earthly. You will feel wrapped in the arms of both Death and that angels at the same time, which I am pretty sure what Mozart was going for.

On that note, there is a reason that even 235 years later certain composers are still part of our daily lives, musical soundtracks and (this week at least) commutes to work. It’s because they’re damned good at what they do. Even with the late intervention of an allegedly fashionably superficial composer, “Requiem” shows once again why Mozart endures.

Best tracks: Um…it may be divided into 12 tracks on the CD but this is one song. That’s how they did it back in the day…

CD Odyssey Disc 1772: Mozart

Ready to foray into classical music for a spell? If so, read on! If not, um…read on and see if it will change your mind!

Disc 1772 is…Serenade No. 13 “A Little Night Music” and Piano Concerto No. 17

Artist: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Year of Release: 1992, but with music from 1784 (Piano Concerto No. 17), 1787 (Serenade No. 13) and 1791 (The Magic Flute Overture),

What’s up with the Cover? This is a close up of a section of Edouard Manet’s painting “The Fifer” also known as “The Young Flautist”. I don’t usually care for Manet, and that predisposition was reaffirmed upon looking at both this segment of “The Fifer” and then later the whole thing (you can decide for yourself by looking here).

One thing that is certain is this is not an original Mozart pressing, because this little fifer was painted in 1866, almost 80 years after the music was composed. We must therefore safely conclude that the CD I purchased does not hail from the 18^th century. Logic!

Also, given that the only part of the “Magic Flute” that is on this collection is the Overture, this is also a bit of false advertising. Think you’re going to get a bunch of songs about a flute? Think again! You will get a bunch of piano and a little night music and you’ll like it!

How I Came To Know It: I knew this Mozart guy was a bit of a thing, and upon seeing this CD at a local thrift store for $2, it felt like a bargain. Not so much if you bought it for that much back in 1790 though, where $2 was about two-weeks’ wages.

How It Stacks Up: and have already dabbled in a couple of prior Mozart albums and this was my third foray into his extensive catalogue. Of the three ‘albums’ I have reviewed, I put this particular collection in at #2.

Ratings: 4 stars

On my first listen to this record I suspected I’d made a mistake and bought a bunch of Mozart music I already owned. It turns out this is because like everyone I’ve been immersed with Mozart music my whole life in the background of a hundred movies. It is also because I don’t know much about classical music and rarely know the title of a piece I’m hearing. At least I know what I like and generally, I like Mozart very much.

This record has two compositions, but before we get to those we start with the Overture to his 1791 opera “The Magic Flute”. Just the Overture though, in what I’m sure the Soulless Record Execs planned as a classic bait and switch. I could talk about this, but putting just the overture doesn’t count as a full song and since this isn’t a late-night advertisement for an 8-CD set where you can “buy all the classics” I refuse to engage in such piecemeal chicanery. Which is hard, because that Overture is, like, really good…

Damn it, no! Let’s move on to the heart of the record.

Serenade No. 13 “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik” aka “A Little Night Music”

The opening violin riff of this song is possibly the most recognizable classical riff in history. Certainly tied with Beethoven’s 5^th. It is also pretty Goddamn great.

When it comes to classical music I cleave closer to the violin than the piano, and The ole No. 13 did not let me down early. I wanted to spin around the room in a powdered wig, my red long-tailed dress coat flailing out behind me, a beautiful woman – held in perfect frame – in my arms (in my fantasy I always maintain a perfect frame).

After all that initial bombast, Mozart settles in with some serious brilliance. Sometimes it just feels like a piano sawing at the silence, but it saws at it with such perfection, it is like it is rending the universe so you can look into the resulting rift and see heaven.

By the third movement the whimsy completely overwhelmed me, and I was under the spell of this little bit of night music, wishing there could be just a little bit more of it.

Piano Concerto No. 17

This little ditty starts out with some great energy. Again with the party atmosphere, as Mozart trills a little birdsong along like only he can. It was easy to forget with all that great violin action that a bunch of dirge-y piano was just around the corner.

But no! When the piano does arrive, it is equally trill-heavy, and it was easy to accept this newcomer to the melody, as piano and violin called and answered one another with an effortless grace.

Unlike our little night music, however, the momentum could not be maintained. Before we are halfway through the song’s second movement we get a bit of what we modern rock fans would call…a noodle. I didn’t love this noodle either and dare I say this second movement needed to move along just a little bit faster than it seemed inclined to.

Things recover in the third and final movement, although the dude on the piano still gets pretty frantic in places. You just forgive him because 1) he’s so damned good at tinkling those ivories 2) the increase in pace (from andante to allegretto) is overdue, but welcome and 3) the violins are there to ride in victorious and rescue everything the piano threatens to overdo.

Overall, Eine Kleine Nachtmusik is five-star glory that still slays after more than 230 years on the earth. Piano Concerto No. 17 is also solid, but I can’t go above a high four due to the bit of andante in the middle. What can I say? I’ve got the impatient ear of a modern music listener. Classical music snobs may sneer if you like, but Mozart belongs everyone, even us old school metalheads, and that’s a good thing.

Best tracks:  Of the two tunes, I’ll go with A Little Night Music

CD Odyssey Disc 736: Mozart

Today I shared a walk home with a colleague. I like my musical interludes, but you should always make room for some human interaction when the opportunity presents itself. Otherwise, we’ll all turn into a bunch of headphone zombies stumbling past one another, eyes half-focused in the middle distance.

Don’t get me wrong, headphones have their place. For example, I wish I’d had them on when some crazy lady ladled abuse on Sheila and I outside of Island Blueprint for no reason. I ignored her. To me she was just a mild annoyance, but any engagement from me would have been the highlight of her week.

So instead, although I had no headphones I acted like I did. Today I had headphones, but acted like I didn’t. You gotta read the situation, people.

In any event, my album only had one two and a half minute song left, so I worked that in as I walked up the drive and waited for the elevator.

Disc 736 is…. Coronation Mass, Vesperae solennes

Artist: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Year of Release: Recorded in 1972 and 1980, but the music is from 1779 (Coronation Mass) and 1780 (Vesperae solennes).

What’s up with the Cover?  Behold the Crown of Generic Non-Descriptness! If this is actually the crown of some country, I feel badly for the king. I generally like my crowns to have some pointy bits at the top. The whole balloon shaped thing that’s been in for the last few centuries just doesn’t work.

How I Came To Know It: I bought Mozart’s Piano Concertos #23 and 24 (reviewed back at Disc 499). I liked that album and wanted more Mozart, but I know next to nothing about classical composers, so I asked my friend Kelly (who knows considerably more) what to try next. He suggested the “Coronation Mass.”

How It Stacks Up:  I have only two Mozart albums, although together they represent four of his complete works. Of the two albums, I prefer the other one.

Ratings: 3 stars

It could be that I wasn’t feeling the classical vibe this week, but this Mozart album did not impress me like the last one I reviewed.

For music to survive 250 years is quite a feat, so I give Mozart his due. Not unlike my earlier Mozart review, I was once again struck by the intricate and thoughtful constructions of his pieces. I was just not picking up what Wolfgang was putting down.

It could have been that this music is much more focused on choral arrangements, with the orchestra supporting the singers, and my other collection let the instruments stand on their own. Classical music appeals to me when the various note progressions seize my frontal lobes and twirl me along whatever merry (or morose) path they choose. The choral elements here made me feel grounded, like I was stuck on a hard bench somewhere being forced to listen out of a sense of duty.

This would be fitting for the “Coronation Mass” in C major. According to Wikipedia (which is never wrong) it was a common piece of music for the coronation of monarchs – notably a couple of Holy Roman Emperors. I imagine these events in the 18^th century were long drawn out affairs; kids in silly outfits and tight shoes fidgeting in the pews and old people passing out and being propped up by their daughter-in-laws. I expect there was lots of standing, sitting, kneeling and maybe walking around the altar seven times or what-not. Yeesh.

I’m being a bit unkind to the “Coronation Mass” which is only 26 minutes long (a pop single by the standards of the day) and moves along in places at a pretty good clip. It just never grabbed my attention.

The second big piece on the album is “Vesperae solennes de confessore” which was apparently performed for specific religious ceremonies. For my thoughts on how exciting this would be, you can see my comments above for the “Coronation Mass” – same audience, same venue, and likely the same fidgeting/snoring involved.

It isn’t just the singing that had me off here, because I love the choral elements to “Carmina Burana,” it is just that the whole thing just feels a bit…staid. The funny thing is that it really isn’t staid at all. Mozart was the pop star of his day and these songs have plenty of dynamics in them. The music is inspiring in many places.

However, in other places it feels like the vocal elements are designed to showcase the singers’ skill rather than serve the song. It was a bit like listening to a reality singing show finale between two divas trying to outdo each other with vocal acrobatics.

The album ends with a  couple of excerpts from other pieces: 15 minutes of “Litaniae Lauretanae” and a mere 2:30 of “Exsultate jubilate.”  

“Litaniae Lauretanae” definitely suffers from the vocal gymnastics. I think I’m supposed to like that part, which made me feel a little guilty when I didn’t. “Exsultate jubilate” is mostly a very talented singer finding different ways to enunciate the hell out of the word “hallelujah” “rain in Spain” style. It was a catchy tune and she could really sing, but after a while it was like listening to later Shania Twain albums – too many “ooh oohs” and not enough storyline to carry the song.

Mozart is a brilliant composer and I feel a little bad about being so flippant in my review (also a little naughty). Given how influential this music is to everything that came after I thought it would grab hold of me emotionally. Instead, it felt like one of those cultural events that you go to out of a weird obligation. You think it’ll be good for your development as a person, but half-way through you are mostly wishing you’d brought a pillow.

Best tracks: Exsultate jubilate was pretty good but this one is destined for the “sell/giveaway” pile. Sorry Wolfgang – I need the space.

CD Odyssey Disc 499: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

My apologies for the week of silence (hey, Tennyson took ten years people!).  My excuse is far less morose, thankfully.  It is just I rolled an album with a full eighty minutes of music on it right over the Easter holiday, so it was a bit of a slog to find uninterrupted listening time.

I gave it a full listen eventually, but it admittedly wore me out.  Today I even put it away early and walked to work listening to Nightwish instead.  Later in the car I switched to Motorhead.  Not exactly a ringing endorsement of interest.

Disc 499 is… Piano Concertos Nos. 23 & 24

Artist: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Year of Release: recorded in 1965-68 with the excellent London Symphony Orchestra, but the music is originally from 1782 to 1786.

What’s up with the Cover?  When you’re this big in the music scene, you get a statue.  What is Mozart’s statue idly pointing at, though?  Giving directions to some Vienna tourists?  Telling someone to move along?  The answer is lost in the mists of time.

How I Came To Know It:  Everyone knows Mozart.  This was just me trying to flesh out my classical music collection a bit, which remains woefully inadequate.

How It Stacks Up:  I only have two Mozart albums; this one and the Coronation Mass.  I prefer this one.

Rating:  4 stars.

I guess with titles like “Piano Concerto No. 23” you should expect a fair bit of piano, but whoa, little did I realize just how much would be involved when I got into this stuff.

Both Concerto No. 23 and No. 24 start off pretty promising, with great flourishes of string sections.  I love the sound of a fiddle even when it is played as the more sedate violin, so the opening movements of both Concertos appealed to me.

However, it isn’t too long before the opening bars are being repeated by piano, and the violins are kicked to the musical curb so somebody can noodle his way up and down the keys.  A violin sets the stage, and a piano repeats and then runs off with it.  It reminded me of when Jimmy Page and Robert Plant would riff off of one another on a Zeppelin song.

Like with Zeppelin, I found myself admiring the virtuosity of the experience but falling in and out of the mood because of the excess noodling.  Usually this was because the piano solos go on a little too long.  It’s like the composer is deliberately focused on the piano for some reason…

Anyway, a quick word on Mozart, who is self-evidently brilliant and a huge influence not only on later classical artists but a lot of modern music.  I think it no accident that when I grew tired of repeats of these concertos my first instinct was to play Nightwish, which is symphonic metal.  Obviously it isn’t as complicated, but the intricate relationships between the instruments (in Nightwish’s case, vocal, guitar power chords and double bass) take a lot of their inspiration from classical music.

Both Piano Concerto No. 23 (in A Major) and No. 24 (in C Minor) were written in 1786 and they have a lot in common.  Both have three movements, the first and third of which are more up tempo and bright and the second more thoughtful and introspective.  These large shifts is what keeps a piece of classical music like this interesting over the long haul (the two ‘songs’ are twenty-five and twenty-nine minutes long respectively). That said, the middle frames have sections that are a bit too “fifties Disney” sounding.  Maybe I first heard them in fifties Disney movies and that’s why I think that, but I couldn’t shake it, and it lessened the experience a bit.

Although not advertised in the title of the CD, this disc also had two Rondos (both written in 1782); “Rondo for Piano and Orchestra in D Major” and that Rondo I’m sure you were hoping I’d mention, “Rondo for Piano and Orchestra in A Major.”  O, Rondo in A Major, you sly minx, you.

I wasn’t sure what a rondo was, but to my ear they sound like a little musical call-and-answer session between two themes.  They fit well on this album, as they tend to establish the theme first with strings, then answer with piano, and then spend a third section blending them together, as though Mozart wants to say “behold how cleverly my two themes blend together into one!  Huzzah!”  Presumably he would say this while wearing some outrageous outfit and a curled wig; puffing his chest out and making exaggerated flourishes with his hands.  Such were the times.

Anyway, the musical progression takes four or five minutes and then repeats with a slight variation, so the two rondos are eleven and eight minutes long respectively, and both are lively and enjoyable.  One person I talked with about them thought they were used for dance music in the day, and I could totally see that.  On balance I prefer a girl who can do the hustle to a girl who wears a bustle but I could make it work.  You know what they say - when in Vienna…

As with all classical music, it is best when you take the time to relax and let it soak over you; even playing it right now on headphones while writing this review I am enjoying it more than I did on my walks to and from work, principally because there is less visual distraction.  Classical music is not background music, and if you play it that way you are missing out on the experience.

Overall I liked these tracks, but I didn’t love them.  I think the answer is next time to go with a violin concerto and put the focal point on the instrument that makes my ear the happiest.

Best tracks:  I think I like the rondos more than the concertos overall, but maybe that’s just the modern rock music guy in me looking for my music in more digestible bites.