Carnegie Hall

From his days as a child prodigy up through when he died at age 35, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart hardly stopped composing. Operas, religious music, piano concertos, string quartets—you name it, the 18th-century composer from Salzburg probably wrote one. And symphonies were no exception.

One of the most famous figures in Classical music, Mozart wrote symphonies that are distinctly his, ones that set the bar high for later composers to follow. High-energy in his youth, ambitious in his teenage years, and equal parts reflective and dramatic later in life, these works exemplify his growth both as a composer and as a person.

Although 41 of his symphonies are officially numbered, many estimates argue the true count is higher, perhaps more than 50. Regardless, there are simply too many to discuss in just one article. The works below represent some of the key milestones in Mozart’s development.

Early Years: An Auspicious Beginning

The young, precocious Wolfgang often composed at the keyboard, an instrument on which he already performed quite well. Musical child prodigies were a source of great fascination in 18th-century Europe, and Mozart’s father, Leopold, leapt at the opportunity to capitalize on his children’s talents.

In 1763, when Wolfgang and his older sister Nannerl were seven and 11, respectively, the Mozart family embarked on a European “grand tour,” having the children perform for aristocratic families across the continent to gain fame and fortune.

While in London, Leopold fell ill, requiring his son and daughter to be quiet during his recovery. The now eight-year-old Mozart felt restless away from the keyboard. But with his perfect-pitch ability, he could hear a piece of music in his head, eventually composing a symphony without needing to play a single note.

Symphony No. 1

The resulting First Symphony is a characteristic early-Mozart work in the form: three movements in fast-slow-fast order, around 10 minutes long, employing simple and traditional forms. Johann Christian Bach, son of the great J. S. Bach, had recently taken the young composer under his wing, and his influence can be felt in this piece’s elegant style.

This refined tastefulness, cohesion, and adherence to form defined music’s Classical era, which was just coming into being during Mozart’s youth. His early education laid the groundwork of a style that he would continue to experiment with and perfect.

Symphony No. 10

After the “grand tour” helped Mozart earn name recognition across the continent, he and his father made other journeys. By the time he was visiting Italy in 1770, he was already on his Tenth Symphony. Inspired by his travels, this work is in the style of an Italian overture, with an attention-grabbing first movement that sounds as if an opera curtain is preparing to rise.

Symphony No. 6

In the mid-1700s, operas and symphonies often shared more similarities than they might today, and Mozart’s were no exception. His forays into both forms often influenced one another, as his Sixth Symphony demonstrates.

While its second movement uses a theme from his earlier opera Apollo et Hyacinthus, other sections of the piece resemble the eventual overture to The Marriage of Figaro, which he composed 19 years later. This F-major symphony was also his first to be structured as four movements, introducing the Minuet and Trio, a movement type that he would use in plenty of symphonies from then on.

Middle Period: Refining His Composing Voice

As Mozart entered his teenage years, between 1769 and 1775, his symphonies grew and changed with him. They generally doubled in length—clocking in at around 20 minutes rather than 10—and became more experimental with the instruments he chose to accompany the strings.

While his earlier works had made oboes his woodwind of choice, flutes gradually became more prominent. In the outer movements of Symphony No. 14, Mozart swapped oboes for flutes, creating a refreshingly bright sound. Eventually, Symphony No. 18 called for no oboes at all, adding a second pair of horns instead—a rare choice for the then-16-year-old.

The composer’s personal life was currently undergoing growing pains. His patron, Archbishop Sigismund von Schrattenbach, died when Mozart was 15. Throughout the next 10 years, he would grow restless about his provincial hometown of Salzburg, itching to seek greater support and opportunities elsewhere.

Symphony No. 25

Mozart’s Symphony No. 25—his first in a minor key—reflects this angsty mood. The tonality of G minor became one of the composer’s touchstones for expressing sadness and tragedy. He used it so often that No. 25 is nicknamed the “little G minor” to distinguish it from Symphony No. 40, another work in the same key.

Here, dramatic and passionate moments are balanced with a lovely slow movement imbued with the clarity of Haydn, a composer whom Mozart greatly respected. Though Haydn and Mozart would not formally meet until Mozart was in his mid-20s, the affection was mutual. Haydn once wrote in a letter that “scarcely any man can brook comparison with the great Mozart.”

Final Period: Earning Musical Immortality

Still hoping to leave Salzburg and find employment elsewhere, Mozart spent six months in Paris when he was 22. The only major work he composed while there was his Symphony No. 31, aptly known as the “Paris” Symphony for the location of its composition and its attempt to appeal to French tastes.

The score called for one of Mozart’s largest orchestras yet, including two clarinets—the first time he used them in a symphony. The composer felt mostly bemused by French audiences, writing to his father of the upcoming premiere that, “The few intelligent Frenchmen who are there will like it … As for the stupid ones, I can’t see that there is any great misfortune in displeasing them.” Regardless of his feelings about the audience, the playful work was received warmly and remains enduringly popular.

Mozart’s most famous symphonies of them all are saved for last—the often-performed trio of nos. 39, 40, and 41 are filled with some of his most mature writing and emotional depth.

These final three were written in rapid succession during the summer of 1788, five years after the composer had struck out on his own and moved to Vienna as an independent composer, performer, and impresario. The first, Symphony No. 39, is a rare gem for its slow, grand opening and for the Haydn-like mischief of its finale.

Symphony No. 40

The composer then returned to his favorite evocative key, G minor, for Symphony No. 40. This turbulent work is one of Mozart’s darkest, dubbed by music critic Ted Libbey as “the most unflinchingly grim symphony of the 18th century.”

Mozart’s precarious financial situation at the time could well have influenced the anxiety in this music. But the symphony also reflects his fascination with the artistic Sturm und Drang movement Sturm und Drang, a school of thought that emphasized angsty and volatile emotions. Some of his mentor figures like Haydn and J. C. Bach were also experimenting with this approach.

Symphony No. 41, “Jupiter”

In contrast, the composer’s final numbered symphony shines as a beacon of light. Nicknamed “Jupiter,” likely for how the music’s noble character resembles the Roman god, Mozart’s Symphony No. 41 has become one of the most famous symphonies of all time.

The longest and most complex symphony he wrote blends both joy and seriousness, anchored in the key of C major. Its beloved finale, a distinctly Mozartian combination of Baroque and Classical forms, is so glorious it defies description. Although the final three symphonies were not published until after the composer’s death, they remain some of his most frequently performed to this day.

The 32-year-old Mozart who wrote the “Jupiter” had developed leaps and bounds from the eight-year-old prodigy hearing his first symphony in his head. But glimmers of his past self still appear in his later works. The four-note motif of C, D, F, E—first introduced by the horns in Symphony No. 1—appears once more at the beginning of the “Jupiter” finale.

Of course, this reappearance is likely pure coincidence. Mozart had no way of knowing No. 41 would be his last symphony—he died just three years later. But the enduring popularity and reverence the final three symphonies enjoy make them a fitting pinnacle of his symphonic career. And hearing a glimpse of the boy he once was still makes it feel like he came full circle.