Don't Miss the Bus to Mozart's Piano Concerto No 21
III. Allegro vivace assai
Piano Concerto No. 21 in C major, K. 467
I'm Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, and I'm about to explain the III. Allegro vivace assai, the finale of my Piano Concerto No 21. You'll follow a lively, witty rondo tune that keeps coming back while the piano and orchestra answer each other like characters in a comic opera, so the finale is easy to follow. Learning to recognize our pieces is something my fellow composers and I teach you on this site, and I'd love for you to put the Trainer to work .
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Who Does What: Sorting Out the Chatter
Think of this finale as a lively dinner party where the pianist and the orchestra keep finishing each other's sentences, and all you have to do is notice who is talking. The strings carry the tune most of the time, while the flute, the oboes and the bassoons pop in with brighter, chattier remarks. The horns, the trumpets and the timpani add sparkle and a bit of a thump whenever the music feels like celebrating. The piano is the star of the evening, and each time it answers the orchestra you'll hear a back-and-forth that is easy to follow, even if you've never heard a concerto in your life.Why I Called It Allegro vivace assai
I didn't give this movement a name so much as a set of instructions, and those instructions are in Italian, the language musicians use for such things. Allegro means fast and cheerful, vivace means lively, and assai means very, so I'm asking the players to be quick, bright and full of life all at once. After the dreamy Andante, I wanted to finish the concerto with energy, so that the fast, slow, fast plan of the three movements ends on its liveliest note. If you hear a smile in the music, that's the title doing its job.The Form: A Tune That Keeps Knocking at the Door
Choosing the form for this finale was an adventure of its own, and in the end I picked a rondo, which suits the cheerful C major mood and the quick 2/4 beat. In a rondo, the main tune keeps coming back, like a friend who stops by again and again, and between visits you get different music that makes each return feel fresh. I gave it the flavor of opera buffa, the comic opera of my day, so you can imagine the piano and the orchestra as characters bantering on a stage. I'll go through the sections one by one in the next paragraphs, so you can follow the story as it unfolds.Section 1: The Tune Walks In, Ink Still Wet
The main theme arrives right away, lively and witty, and it's the tune you'll want to remember because it keeps coming back. Here's a tidbit that makes me smile: my father Leopold wrote that the copyist was still at work when the family arrived for the first performance, and that I hadn't even had time to play through the rondo. That performance took place at the Burgtheater in Vienna, most likely on 10 March 1785, with me at the piano. So when you hear this bouncy opening, remember that it was still fresh off the page, and I'd say it sounds remarkably calm for music in such a hurry.Section 2: The First Detour, Where Everyone Answers Back
After the main tune has had its say, the music moves into new material, and the mood turns playful and chatty. This is where the call and response comes in, with the soloist and the orchestra tossing little phrases back and forth. The tempo stays quick and light, so it feels like a friendly argument in which nobody really minds losing. Listen for how the piano sometimes asks a question and the orchestra answers it, and then they swap roles.Section 3: The Tune Comes Back, Wearing a New Hat
Now the main theme returns, and this is the great pleasure of a rondo: you recognize it, and it feels like greeting an old friend. The music settles back into the cheerful mood of the opening, as if the detour was only a short walk around the block. I like to give the tune small changes in how it's played, so it never sounds like a simple copy of the first time. Take a moment here to enjoy knowing where you are, because the next part wanders further from home.Section 4: The Middle, Where the Pianist Shows Off
In the middle of the rondo I include a development section, where the music takes the ideas we've heard and turns them around, like a storyteller trying a different angle. The mood grows a little more adventurous here, and the tune gets stretched and tested instead of being politely repeated. This is also where the pianist's fingers get to shine, with quick, brilliant passages that show off real digital virtuosity. You don't need to know a single note name to enjoy it, because you can simply watch, or imagine, how fast those hands have to move.Section 5: One Last Solo, One Last Tune
Near the end the orchestra steps back, and the soloist plays a cadenza, a passage that is left to the pianist to shape. It's a moment where the music holds its breath, and every pianist who plays this concerto makes it a little bit their own. Then the orchestra returns and the main theme comes back for a final statement, bright and sure of itself. The concerto ends in C major, the key it started in, with the feeling that the whole evening has come full circle.Your Turn: Press Play and Enjoy the Party
Now I invite you to hear this finale for yourself, so find a comfortable spot and press play. As you listen, you might keep in mind the tune that keeps knocking at the door, and the way the piano and the orchestra talk to each other. Let the music carry you along without worrying about whether you're doing it right, because there's no wrong way to enjoy a good tune. I hope you have as much fun hearing the Allegro vivace assai as I had writing it.---
I hope that as the finale ends, with its last cheerful statement of the main theme, you feel you've come to know this movement a little better. Did you enjoy this listen guide to the Allegro vivace assai of Piano Concerto No 21? I wrote this rondo as a lively, witty conversation between the pianist and the orchestra, and I think it's the kind of music that rewards a second and third listen. Each time you return to it, you may catch a new answer from the orchestra or a quicker turn from the piano that slipped past you before. There is still much more to discover in Piano Concerto No 21. The first movement opens with its quiet, tiptoeing march and a piano that enters in a surprising key, and the Andante has a story of its own that reaches well beyond the concert hall. Behind the whole concerto there is also the busy month in Vienna in which I wrote it, only four weeks after my D minor concerto. If you'd like to keep exploring, I invite you to click on the links provided and follow whichever one catches your curiosity. Then listen to the concerto once more from the beginning, and see how the finale feels when you arrive at it after the two movements before.