Where were Britain's great Mozartians on the composer's 250th birthday? That's right: Salzburg. Or Vienna, or Berlin - anywhere, in fact, but on a London concert platform. On any other day, the four concerts that made up the BBC's Mozart 250 - starting at lunchtime and continuing late into the evening - would have seemed like solid if unadventurous programming. But this was a celebration and, with the big hitters noticeable by their absence, it was critically low on glamour.
At least it had a suitably monumental work as its centrepiece - the Mass in C minor, which showcased a superb performance from the BBC Symphony Chorus. It was no surprise that they were pushed to sustain the phrases of the Kyrie at the slow tempo set by conductor David Robertson. But they were impressively secure in all the double-choir writing, and made a thrillingly grand sound at the end of the Gloria and the beginning of the Credo. And it was a bonus to have Emma Bell as the second soprano soloist. With her cheerfully operatic delivery of the Laudamus Te, she did far more than her colleagues to bring the solo numbers to life.
The Mass was preceded by the Jupiter Symphony, No 41, in which it initially seemed that Robertson had done a credible job of turning the BBC Symphony Orchestra into a facsimile of a period-instrument band. The strings brought an invigorating raw edge to the first movement, punctuated by abrupt buzzing runs. But though Robertson could make his de-vibratoed orchestra play with punch, genuine warmth proved more elusive in the second movement.
Earlier concerts had featured chamber music played by the Skampa Quartet and piano sonatas from Llyr Williams, but it was the final work of this long day that will have been the highlight for many. In a programme of Serenades given by members of the BBCSO at St Giles Cripplegate we heard, alongside a rather ordinary performance of Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, the Gran Partita, in which 12 winds and one double bass took their expressive lead from Richard Hosford's expansive clarinet. Here, in the endless yearning melody of the Adagio, we finally had heart-tugging proof of this composer's timeless, transcendental genius.
