The Clarinet. When one thinks of the instrument, we are instantly taken on a rich journey of musical landmarks: New Orleans, Rhapsody in Blue, Mozart, Benny Goodman, top orchestras, your cousin’s wedding reception. Chamber music might not be at the top of the list, but indeed, clarinetists have inspired some of the finest pieces in history for the genre.

But clarinetists have another distinction beyond our seat at the center of the orchestra or in a dance band. Clarinetists have been the inspiration for some of the finest chamber music ever written. We have also been known through history as some of the most colorful and unique characters in the music scene. Ross Gorman canonized the famous glissando in Rhapsody in Blue as a joke that stuck and clarinetist Naftule Brandwein once accidentally lit himself on fire when he draped himself in Christmas lights for a show.

Clarinetists are the versatile can-do members of the orchestra. We are as comfortable in most of the world’s folk traditions, jazz, or Dixieland, as we are in a Beethoven Symphony. A clarinetist can finish a recital and be jamming in a jazz club or at a wedding reception an hour later. We are the jacks of all trades, the sure-I-can-play-this, virtuosi musicians of the world. We are soulful, versatile, fun, a little bit sexy, and irreverent.

Known for our shenanigans as well as our skill, clarinetists have been the best buddies and nemeses for some of chamber music’s greatest hits. Whether through skill or annoyance, our friendships have inspired composers through the ages and aggravated them as well. Let’s take a look at some of the backstories of clarinet’s greatest chamber music works.

One of the first examples of the symbiotic and often parasitic relationship between clarinetists and composers is the one between Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and his friend Anton Stadler. The fruits of their friendship and collaboration are chamber music staples such as the Quintet (clarinet and string quartet) and the Kegelstatt Trio (clarinet, viola, and piano), not to mention innovations on the instrument including the basset clarinet and the resplendent Clarinet Concerto K. 622.

Bonded by their Freemason backgrounds, Stadler and Mozart’s relationship was defined by deep musical respect and chaotic personal habits. But what was really behind these gorgeous and fundamental works from the clarinet canon? Parties, gambling, and much irreverent behavior. Both were famous for their love of nightlife, often borrowing from each other to pay their debts and continue their licentious behavior. The composer would refer to Stadler as “Nàtschibinìtschibi” (my dear little fool) and “Redcurrant Face.” After Mozart’s death, we have compelling evidence from the correspondence of Mozart’s widow that Stadler in fact pawned Mozart’s work to pay his own debts. She went as far to call him a “bloodsucker.” Still, the works that their collaboration yielded remain some of the greatest pieces ever written.

One of the cutest clarinet/composer chamber music stories was between the father and son team, Heinrich and Carl Baermann with Felix Mendelssohn. Mendelssohn had a penchant for baked treats and the Baermanns were happy to oblige. The sweet and playful Konzertstück No. 1 in F minor, Op. 113 and Konzertstück No. 2 in D minor, Op. 114 for two clarinets were created in a contest to see who could cook dumplings or compose the work faster. These lovely works evoke the cozy smells of cooking warm treats wafting in from a warm kitchen, baked in friendship and playfulness.

When Johannes Brahms reached the age of 57, he decided to hang up his composing hat and start settling his estate. This changed in 1891 after a trip to Meiningen, when he heard the rich and warm tones from Richard Muhlfeld’s clarinet. Inspired, he composed his two clarinet sonatas, a trio for clarinet, cello, and piano, and his clarinet quintet.

When we listen to this music, it is transcendent, mesmerizing, and at the highest level of chamber music. But the relationship between Muhlfeld and Brahms was surprisingly down to earth. Muhlfeld could bring the often-grumpy Brahms out of his shell, eliciting hugs and nicknames from the composer for the clarinetist, calling him “Fräulein Klarinette” and “Meine Primadonna.” Both men shared a love of cigars and Brahms would remunerate Muhlfeld for his work with a wreath of cigar smoke and friendship.

It is worth noting here that Mozart, Brahms, and many other composers wrote their last works for the clarinet. Is this a funny coincidence or a curse? We will leave it up to you to decide…

In 1921, Carl Nielsen called his friend Christian Christiansen for a chat. While on the phone, he overheard wind players rehearsing in the background, including clarinetist Aage Oxenvad. Nielsen was so taken by the distinctive conversational style of the group that he wrote the Wind Quintet, Op. 43 and was inspired to write his distinctive concertos based on the personalities of the group. Tragically, he died before he could get to the oboe, bassoon, and horn concertos (See? The clarinet strikes again!)

Nielsen and Oxenvad always had a warmly contentious relationship, combining affection and grouchiness. The composer wrote an almost impossible passage for the convention of the time to tease the clarinetist, who huffed and complained through the rehearsal, shouting, “Carl, you’ve written a note that doesn’t exist on this stick of wood!” Nielsen calmly replied, “Oh, I’m sure it’s there Aage. You probably just left it in your other jacket!”

At a party when Oxenvad was caught using an antique as an ashtray and a shocked official tried to stop him, Nielsen stepped in, saying bemusedly, “Leave him be. If you take away his tobacco, he’ll start playing the worst notes in the concerto and then we’ll really have a scandal!”

When it comes to fickle clarinetists and composer’s revenge, there is Alan Shulman’s Rendezvous for Clarinet and Strings. Originally composed for Benny Goodman and entitled Rendezvous with Benny, Shulman’s frustration with Goodman eventually led to a very deliberate edit.

Supposedly, Goodman would sometimes lose interest in a project or piece, as he did after the premiere of Shulman’s clarinet quintet after a notable radio premiere in 1946. Goodman ghosted Shulman and never played the work again. Shulman took the work to Goodman’s rival, Artie Shaw, who enthusiastically agreed to record it. Then the composer took his pen, crossed out with Benny from the title, and renamed the piece Rendezvous for Clarinet and Strings, thus punishing Goodman’s careless dismissal.

There are too many clarinet/composer friendships and stories to recount here, but other notable muses include Simon Hermstedt with Louis Spohr and Pauline Juler with Gerald Finzi. Even in early clarinet history, the great Caroline Schleicher-Krahmer wrote pieces for herself, serving as her own muse since there were no pieces written for women at the time.

One of the greatest composer/irreverent muse relationships of modern times is the one between Mariam Adam and Valerie Coleman. The first ensemble they started was Grammy-winning Imani Winds who were pioneers in the wind chamber music genre, much due to the custom-tailored writing Coleman did for the members.

Mariam Adam recounts:

Valerie Coleman is like the friend who tries an adventurous restaurant and then successfully replicates the recipes at home. Our friendship began with duets, sassy interpretations, and many giggles.

When Imani Winds collaborated with avant-garde jazz musicians like Steve Coleman or Daniel Binelli, Valerie would show up overnight with a wild new piece. Knowing I was up for anything, she gave me acrobatic, genre-bending lines that pushed everyone’s boundaries.

For our Christmas album, Valerie and Jeff (the hornist) created original arrangements ranging from “Bugs Bunny” humor to gospel. In Sleigh Bells Valerie handed me the horse “neighing” part, saying, ‘I figured you would know how to create that sound. Go!’ Next thing I knew, I was calling the barn animals with my horse sounds.

Valerie also asked me to name pieces off the top of my head. One, Rubispheres, is now the title of a new album celebrating our 30 years of friendship. It was written for our first Lower East Side gig in Manhattan, where we all donned pleather for the first time, but not the last.

In Valerie Coleman and Mariam Adam, we see a modern rekindling of the irreverent spirit that once bound Mozart to Stadler. It is a partnership that proves the greatest music isn’t just written on staff paper, it’s forged in thirty years of shared laughter, bold experiments, and a refusal to play it safe. As they continue to pave the way, they remind us that every great composer needs a muse who is just daring enough to ask for the impossible and just irreverent enough to actually pull it off.

Clarinetist and scholar Dr. Stephanie Zelnick enjoys a dynamic and multi-faceted career as a soloist, orchestral performer, and chamber musician across North America, Asia, South America, and Europe. Performing and teaching in venues such as Carnegie Hall, The Juilliard School, Northwestern University, Yale School of Music, Walt Disney Concert Hall, among many others, she has received critical acclaim as  for her “committed and polished performances.” A distinguished educator and scholar, she is the Professor of Clarinet at the University of Kansas and a Buffet Crampon Artist. Full biographical information can be found at stephaniezelnick.com.