A Frolic through Mozart's Symphony No 40
II. Andante

Symphony No. 40 in G minor, K. 550

Mozart presenting a listen guide for his Symphony No 40's II. Andante
I'm Mozart, and I'm pleased to guide you through the second movement of my Symphony No 40, the Andante. You'll hear how the strings and winds pass a gentle, flowing melody back and forth in E flat major, while chromatic touches give the music a strange, dreamlike glow. Our site also teaches you, along with my fellow composers, to recognize pieces like this one when they play, so if you'd like to find out how well you do,  head over to the Trainer .
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Sit Back And Count Your Strings

Think of the strings as the floor of a room: they pulse gently underneath, and everything else happens on top of them. Listen first to that smooth, rocking motion in the string family, because it's what makes the whole movement feel like floating. Then wait for the winds to step in and answer the strings, so you hear a kind of conversation between the two groups. Don't try to follow every voice at once; just notice who is speaking and who is answering.

A Name That Just Tells You To Stroll

I called this movement Andante, which is simply a tempo marking, an instruction to move at an easy walking pace. It isn't a brisk walk to catch a train, but the kind of stroll where you actually notice the trees. After the restless first movement I wanted something you could breathe in, and it sits in E flat major, the only movement whose main key isn't G. Years later a commentator, Alexandre Oulibicheff, called it a dream escaped through the ivory gates of Elysium, which is a grander title than mine, and I'm happy to accept it.

A Shape Without A Label

I'll be honest: I'm not going to pin a fancy name on the form, because this movement is easier to hear than to label. What I can tell you is that it begins contrapuntally, with one voice following another, and then flows into a long, lyrical melody. I'll take you through it in four stretches, each with its own mood: the entrance, the falling leaves, the strange colors, and the warm glow that carries it home. Think of it as a short walk with four stops, and I'll point out what to look at in each one.

Section 1: Voices Tiptoeing In

The movement opens at an unhurried Andante pace, with a lilting 6/8 rhythm that rocks back and forth like a boat tied to a quiet dock. Because the writing is contrapuntal, the musical lines enter one after another instead of all at once, so you can hear each one arrive. The strings and winds pass phrases between them, politely, the way people share a conversation when no one is in a hurry. The mood is calm and tender, and it's the best place to get used to the gentle sway before anything else happens.

Section 2: Leaves Falling Politely

Now listen for the pairs of quick, flitting notes that drift down through the music, and to me they sound like leaves falling in no particular hurry. Underneath them the strings keep up their gentle pulse, so the leaves always have something soft to land on. The tempo doesn't change, but the music feels lighter here, almost as if the air itself had become thinner and brighter. E flat major is still the home key, so everything sounds warm, open and a little bit dreamy.

Section 3: The Floor Goes Slightly Strange

Then the color of the music changes, because I let chromatic passages creep in, where the notes move by small steps instead of the usual familiar ones. This gives the movement an unearthly quality, as if the room you were comfortable in has quietly changed its lighting. The gentle rocking is still there, but now it carries a hint of mystery, and the sweetness has a slightly shadowed edge. Listen for how little the tempo moves while the feeling shifts so much, because that contrast is the heart of this stretch.

Section 4: The Glow Before The Minuet

In the last stretch the lyrical warmth of E flat major takes over again, and the music settles into its easy, flowing stride. The strings and winds keep trading their phrases, but they sound more at ease now, like friends who have said what they needed to say. Keep your ear on the soft pulse until the very end, because it's the thread that ties the whole movement together. Right after it comes the Menuetto in G minor, which is angrier and more severe, so enjoy the calm while you have it.

Press Play And Wander

Now it's your turn to hear it, so press play and let the music carry you along at its own gentle pace. While it plays, you might remember the strings rocking underneath, the winds answering, the falling leaves and the moment the colors turn strange. You don't have to catch everything, and you can simply let the music wash over you the first time through. I hope you enjoy walking through this Andante as much as I enjoyed writing it.
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If you've made it this far, I hope the Andante left you a little calmer than it found you. Did you enjoy this listen guide to the Andante of my Symphony No 40? I wrote this slow movement in E flat major, and it still feels to me like a quiet room in the middle of a stormy house. The next time you hear it, you might notice the soft pulse of the strings, the way the winds answer them, and those pairs of light notes drifting down like falling leaves. Once you know where to listen, the music tends to open up a little more each time. There is much more to Symphony No 40 than this one movement. The restless sighing of the first movement, the sharp-edged minuet and the stormy finale all have their own stories to tell. There's also the story of how the symphony came to be, and how it found its way to listeners after the summer of 1788. If you'd like to keep exploring, please click on the links provided and carry on listening. I'd be glad to have you along for the rest of the journey.