When discussing the so-called Kolb Concerto in D major (K6 271a), one cannot help but notice the echoes of past debates surrounding other dubious works attributed to Mozart. Much like the infamous sixth concerto, this piece is a puzzle—poorly crafted counterpoint, weak harmonies, and an overall lacklustre musical quality suggest Mozart’s involvement was minimal, if at all. Some claim he only composed the more successful sections, but even these are far from convincing.

The authenticity of the Kolb Concerto has been questioned for over a century. Ernest Hess noted its numerous compositional errors, uncharacteristic phrasing, and unconvincing orchestration, all of which undermine the attribution to Mozart. Strangely, this seventh concerto exists in two versions: the full score from Aloys Fuchs’s collection at the Prussian Library in Berlin, and the separate parts copied by Eugène Sauzay in Paris in 1837. The sources do not align, and the original manuscript by Wolfgang is nowhere to be found, yet it was published under Mozart’s name in 1907. For decades, scholars clung to imaginative theories, desperately trying to place the concerto within Mozart’s timeline, until it was finally revealed as a forgery.

The likes of Georges De Saint-Foix and Yehudi Menuhin held onto the belief that the concerto had some connection to Mozart, while others, such as Alfred Einstein, suggested that it might merely be a sketch, with later composers filling in the gaps. Still, the inconsistencies pile up: the violin remains too high in pitch, excessive pizzicatos disrupt the slow movement, and strange tenth intervals appear in cadenzas supposedly added in the 19th century.

Even the title “Kolb” has no basis in reality. Several amateur violinists bore that name, but none can be conclusively linked to this work. In 1963, Carl Bär speculated that the concerto might be related to an entry in Joachim von Schiedenhofen’s diary from 1777. However, his assumptions rest on shaky ground, as details about Kolb are scant and confused.

By 1978, Christoph-Hellmut Mahling proposed that Mozart may have merely copied the concerto for personal use, lifting it from another contemporary composer. Subsequent studies dismissed Mozart’s authorship, linking the concerto instead to French styles, such as those of Kreutzer and Baillot, suggesting it was a teaching tool rather than an original work by Mozart. Mahling’s findings reinforced the notion that the concerto’s structure and features align more with early 19th-century French conservatory exercises than with Mozart’s authentic output.

In truth, the Kolb Concerto is likely a commercial product, packaged as Mozart’s to enhance its market appeal. Today, it is still performed under his name, despite mounting evidence against its authenticity. This should lead us to question the very concept of the so-called “Viennese Classical style.” Is it truly a coherent, historically grounded genre, or merely another construct shaped by politics and commerce?