A paradox of Mozart’s music, which I’d written about before, is how it is deceptively “simple”. The music is so well crafted, it flows almost effortlessly and everything sounds “right”, no note out of place, etc. At the same time, the writing is so difficult and complex, and playing Mozart is challenging. Someone like Mitsuko Uchida is a great Mozart interpreter because she ironically puts in so much effort to sound “effortless”. This deceptive simplicity can be heard in this piece, one of my top favorite Mozart works, the sonata for two pianos. Mozart wrote earlier piano duets for him to play with his sister when they were young, but this duo was written in his mid twenties for a concert. The galant cheerfulness and bright, robust passages, distract from the hellish difficulty for the two musicians to keep at the same tempo and articulation. It has a little “grand” opening, a large chord with a homogenous unison pattern going upward to establish the key. Then the pianists toss the material back and fourth, a little game of catch. The main melody has scales that soon overlap, and the music becomes dense and relentless. It’s unbridled joy in sync. The B section is a slower sigh where the pianos echo each other like canonic imitation. A great part is where one piano is playing chords in the beat as the other is playing rapid scales, leading up to the shimmering conclusion of large rolled chords. The development takes an earlier softer melody, lightly reshapes it, and turns it into a fugato in octaves, but it’s a false opening because we then go into a little outburst of chords for dramatic effect. It leads us back into the recapitulation, where the glowing sunlight continues to shine. The second movement is a simple little aria, a soft lightly decorated melody played over an ostinato. The kind of Mozartian music that people like to swoon over. Little dissonances in the music make you long for the next resolution, and there are points where the pianos trade off, one rests while the other continues the passage, and it comes off as one fluid motion, as if there is only one pianist. Added decorations give more polyphony to this “simple” slow movement. The third movement throws us right in with a rush trills, scales, and chords, bringing us to the soundscape of the first movement and overwhelming us with the speed. The end of this passage, before the repeat, we get a large “coda” that feels like a party with people stomping their feet and laughing. We galop through the rondo until the dazzling coda that brings back the “party theme”, and the ending almost begs for applause even if you’re listening to it alone.