We hope that as you listen you come to the same realisation we had that made us form this group: these pieces are absolute masterpieces that stand at the top of Mozart’s chamber music output, alongside his greatest works of any genre.

This setting for five players gave him a freedom that writing for string quartet never really did. Having three of his beloved middle voices instead of two allowed him to revel in his unique operatic style and explore different conversations between instruments. We wanted to make a recording that would approach the quintets with the same reverence that his quartets receive. Five equal voices coming together to forge a personal interpretation. We pulled from many influences in our lives outside of the group, as chamber music players, soloists and orchestral musicians and especially as performers on historical instruments. We carefully chose our equipment to get as close as possible to what the players of the day might have used. We have sought the heart of the character and meaning of these works. We found clear connections to Mozart’s operatic works, as well as his engagement and inspiration from his friend and mentor Joseph Haydn. These works also represent a lifetime of growth for Mozart from his early days in Salzburg to the last year of his life. From KV. 174, when he is already in total command of his abilities, to the four later quintets which point to new musical paths, tragically never realised. It has been very fulfilling to inhabit the full range of Mozart’s expressivity and unparalleled skill with these works. Finally we wanted to infuse a bit of “Spunicunifait” into your lives. What does that word mean? There are many opinions... perhaps a shawl made from rabbit hair* ... perhaps nonsense... perhaps something wildly inappropriate to write to one’s cousin. For us it’s important not to lose this side of Mozart in the face of his overwhelming genius; Playful, imaginative and a little bit naughty.

We hope you enjoy!

Spunicunifait

*In a letter to his cousin Maria Anna Thekla Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus wrote these mysterious three words “Spuni Cuni fait”, which could mean “spun,” “Cony (rabbit)” “fait,” the past tense of the French verb “faire”: something that was spun from rabbit hair, like the shawl (beloved) cousin Bäsle was wearing on a self portrait.