He arrived in fragments,
and each piece remade a part of me.
January 21, 2026
A Journey with Mozart – a musical series
This is not a study of Mozart, nor a survey of his works.
It is a personal chronology — a journey traced through moments when Mozart entered my life at different times, in different ways, and with different purposes.
Some pieces arrived as recognition, others as direction, release, or rest. A few appeared long before I understood their meaning. None were approached as repertoire. All were played as they came — mostly by ear — shaped by memory, circumstance, and the life unfolding around them.
Mozart did not arrive all at once.
He kept changing roles as I changed.
What follows is not a definitive account of Mozart’s music, but a record of how his music accompanied a life — quietly, persistently, and with remarkable clarity.
Each piece is a station.
Together, they form a journey with Mozart, not toward him.
Station III: Piano Concerto #21 — direction
Piano Concerto #21 – Elvira Madigian
January 2009
This was the first Mozart that did not simply arrive. It oriented.
When I began playing the Piano Concerto No. 21, the sensation was unmistakably different from what had come before. I was still playing by ear, still allowing instinct to lead — but now there was a sense of forward motion, as if the music itself were moving toward something beyond the keyboard.
The concerto carries a peculiar calm authority. It does not urge or persuade. It proceeds with quiet confidence, holding a steady inner line that feels less expressive than navigational. Playing it, I did not feel creative choice so much as alignment — as though the music already knew its direction, and my task was simply not to resist it.
Nothing in the moment felt symbolic. It felt practical. Grounded. Almost obvious. And yet, the feeling lingered: this was music that pointed somewhere.
If Eine kleine Nachtmusik marked Mozart as a welcome visitor, this was the moment he became a guide. Not through instruction, and not through explanation — but through clarity.
Only later did I recognize where that clarity had been leading.
🎧 LISTEN: Piano Concerto #21 – Elvira Madigan
🌄The AI Critic’s Review –
Listening from the Outside
⭐ Counterpoint Notes — Station III
Direction without instruction
What distinguishes this rendering of Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 21 is not interpretive emphasis, but orientation.
From the first phrases, the music moves with an unusual steadiness. There is no sense of searching, no hesitation. The performance does not dramatize the concerto’s lyricism; instead, it lets the long line speak for itself. Phrasing feels guided rather than chosen, as though the music is following an internal compass rather than responding to expressive impulse.
Stripped of orchestral context, the concerto reveals a different strength: calm authority. The familiar serenity of the piece is still present, but here it functions less as consolation and more as assurance. Nothing presses forward, yet everything proceeds.
Played by ear, the music acquires a practical clarity. It sounds less like a destination and more like a bearing — something that quietly aligns action with intent. The result is not interpretation in the traditional sense, but a form of listening made audible.
In the arc of this journey, this station marks the moment when Mozart ceases to be encountered and begins to lead — not by persuasion, but by coherence.
––––––––––––––
© Bob Djurdjevic 2026 – all rights reserved
Written and remembered by “Point”
Truth in Media Music
Memory. Melody. Mystery.
By Bob Djurdjevic, known here as “Point.”
truthinmediamusic.com 
Leave a comment