There is the curious feeling, as you listen to these symphonies, that Rosetti might very nearly have been a great composer. Antonio Rosetti (a Bohemian, ne Rosler or Rosety, c1750-92) was a close contemporary of Mozart's, and there are things in these symphonies more like Mozart than anyone else was: listen for example to some of the fiery contrapuntal developments of the first movements or the finales. Then in the slow movements you will hear a voice remarkably like Haydn's, both in the nature of the themes and in the technique of variation he applies to them. Ultimately, however, he falls short: clearly he lacked the command needed to sustain the level of the invention, or perhaps the taste to know when he wasn't doing so. Many times here, just as you sense the exalted nature of the ideas, or the brilliance of imagination behind them, you are flabbergasted by the sheer banality of what comes next. Sometimes these quirky ideas – for he often ventures strange harmonies and rhythmic structures – work, at least for a while, but more usually they have some curiously enigmatic quality. Try, for example, the end of the first movement of the B flat Symphony, an arresting piece for the most part, with an odd, puzzling ending; or the first movement of the E flat work (Kaul 1:23), with its mysterious slow introduction, its energetic Allegro assai, and its innocently trite conclusion.
The minuet of the G minor work is sturdy stuff, promptly undermined by the tripping, major-key fripperies of the trio; Rosetti frequently does odd things in his trios (like providing a perky bassoon solo in the E flat work, and an amusing wind-band piece in the B flat). The other E flat Symphony (Kaul 1:32) has a very impressive opening movement, with stormy counterpoint, and some beautiful hushed writing in the Adagio agitato (a unique marking, I wonder?) that follows. Try too the scurrying, uneasy finale of the G minor: but it goes in the end to G major and the tension goes out of the window. Rosetti is harmonically forward-looking, in a sense that Haydn and Mozart aren't: you will hear in several movements harmonies that sound like the young Schubert, and textures too (usually with a doubling flute).
The symphonies are performed with evident enthusiasm and spirit. I can't imagine better advocacy, except that so many of the tempos are uncomfortably fast (especially in the B flat work). But there is a lot to enjoy and there are things here to shake some of the complacency in our attitudes to the great classical masters.'