THE MAN (1779-179l)
In the middle of January, 1779, Mozart was once more in Salzburg, and for nearly two years he remained in that city, busied with his duties at the Archbishop's palace, and composing works of all kinds. The record of these years is chiefly one of almost ceaseless writing. Many of Mozart's best and ripest works date from this period. Among these are the Mass in C, published as No. 1, though really the composer's fourteenth. This is one of the finest of the series, as well as one of the most popular. The "Agnus Dei," a solo, the chief theme of which foreshadows the "Dove sono" of Figaro, was formerly a favourite air with soprani who valued expression above mere display. Another important work dating from this period is the incidental music to Gebler's drama Thamos, König in Ægypten. This music consists partly of entr'actes and incidental music, but it also contains three magnificent and amply developed choruses, which may justly be described as among the most noble choral pieces that Mozart ever wrote. The play was a failure, but the composer, regretting that the music could not be used, had the choruses adapted to Latin hymns; in this form they have become well-known and popular as the three great motets, Splendente te, Deus, Ne pulvis et cinis, and Deus, tibi laus et honor. To this period also belong the two-act German opera Zaide, two vespers, two symphonies, two great serenades—one being the magnificent one for thirteen wind instruments—the Symphonie Concertante in E flat, for violin and viola, the concerto in the same key for two pianos, and some of his best sonatas for piano solo, besides smaller pieces, vocal and instrumental, too numerous to mention.
In the latter part of the year 1780, Mozart received from the Elector of Bavaria a commission to write an opera for Munich, for the Carnival of 1781. The Archbishop had promised him leave of absence, and on November 6, 1780, he left Salzburg for the Bavarian capital. The libretto was written by the Abbé Varesco, Court chaplain at Salzburg, the subject selected being Idomeneo, and it was founded on a French opera on the same subject that had been composed by Campra, and produced in 1712.
Mozart, on his arrival in Munich, was received with open arms by his many friends in that city, and he worked at the opera with an enthusiasm that may be easily imagined. Though his principal vocalists were not all that he could have desired, he had a splendid orchestra at his disposal, and from the first all the performers were delighted with the music. His letters to his father while writing the opera are full of interesting details. After the first rehearsal, Ramm, the first oboe, an old friend of the composer, assured him that he had never yet heard any music that made so great an effect upon him. Mozart's father, who was most anxious for the complete success of the work, wrote urging his son "to think not only of the musical, but also of the unmusical public. You know, there are a hundred without knowledge to every one connoisseur, so do not forget the so-called 'popular' that tickles even the long ears." Wolfgang replied: "Don't trouble yourself about the so-called 'popular,' for in my opera is music for all kinds of people—only not for the long ears."
Idomeneo was produced on January 29, 1781, with a success that must have satisfied not only the composer, but also his father and sister, who came over from Salzburg to hear it. In this opera we find Mozart in his full maturity. Whether in the flow of his melody, the richness of the harmony, the power of dramatic characterization, or the beauty and variety of the orchestration, this work shows a decided advance on any of its predecessors, and marks a turning-point in the history of dramatic music.
Thanks to the fact that the Archbishop of Salzburg was at this time in Vienna, Mozart was able to prolong his visit to Munich; but in March he was summoned to join his employer, and on March 12 he arrived in Vienna. Here he was treated by the Archbishop with the utmost indignity; not only was he made to take his meals with the servants, but he was refused permission to take any engagements whereby he might add to his meagre income. Insult followed insult, till at length the crisis came, and Mozart resigned the appointment which his self-respect forbade him longer to hold, and determined to seek his fortune in Vienna.
Though now thrown entirely on his own resources, Mozart was very sanguine about the future. At first he earned only a precarious livelihood by playing at fashionable parties and teaching the piano; but he looked forward with great hopes to obtaining an appointment with the Emperor Joseph II. But the monarch, though always affable and even cordial to the composer, preferred Italian music to the more solid style of Mozart, whom he esteemed as a pianist rather than as a composer. "He cares for no one but Salieri," said Mozart of him; and there can be no doubt that the influence of the Italian on the Emperor was very great. Salieri, a musician of talent, though not of genius, saw in Mozart a formidable rival, and, while outwardly polite, secretly intrigued against him.
Joseph II. took great interest in the establishment of a school of German opera, and engaged an excellent company of vocalists, among whom was Mozart's old flame, Aloysia Weber, for the theatre. Mozart, who always delighted in writing for the stage, had brought with him to Vienna his German opera Zaide. He scarcely hoped that it would be produced, as he thought the libretto unsuited to the Viennese public; but Stephanie, the inspector of the opera, was so pleased with the music that he promised to give Mozart a good text to set. The Emperor was quite willing to see what the composer could do in German opera; and in July Mozart, to his great delight, received the libretto of Belmont und Constanze, now known under its second title, Die Entführung aus dem Serail. Owing to various causes, among others the cabals of Mozart's enemies, the production of the opera was much delayed; it was only by the express command of the Emperor that it was at length performed for the first time on July 13, 1782. It was of this opera that the Emperor said to the composer: "Too fine for our ears, and an immense number of notes, my dear Mozart!" which called forth the reply: "Exactly as many notes, your Majesty, as are needful."
The success of the work was immediate and complete. Here Mozart was virtually on new ground. Excepting the operetta Bastien und Bastienne and the Zaide above-mentioned, all Mozart's preceding operas had been written to Italian words; and though in Idomeneo a fusion of Italian and German styles is to be seen, it is not till Die Entführung that we find an important work genuinely German in character. Of Italian influence there is but little trace except in some parts of the music allotted to Constanze. This role was undertaken by Madame Cavalieri, a great bravura singer, but little more; and many of the florid passages in her songs remind one of the popular ornate style of the day. It is difficult to speak too highly of the wealth of melodic invention, the truth of expression, or the skill shown in differentiating the various characters of the drama to be found in this work, while the picturesqueness of the orchestration is perhaps even superior to that of Idomeneo, and certainly far surpasses that of any of the early operas.
At this time Mozart's old friends, the Webers, had removed to Vienna, and the composer had resumed his intercourse with them. A mutual attachment had grown up between him and Constanze, a younger sister of Aloysia, who had jilted him. He wrote to his father asking his consent to his marriage; but Leopold, knowing that his son had no regular appointment, and that his income was precarious, strongly opposed the step, and for some time the course of true love by no means ran smooth.
Through the influence of a patroness of Mozart, the Baroness von Waldstadten, the obstacles were ultimately surmounted, and the marriage was celebrated at the Baroness's house on August 4, 1782. Though the union was, from one point of view, very happy, owing to the true affection that existed between husband and wife, it cannot be doubted that it was, to a great extent, the cause of much of Mozart's later troubles. Constanze, though endowed with many excellent qualities, was a bad housekeeper, while Mozart, besides being generous to a fault, had not the least capacity for business, nor even any idea of economy. No wonder, then, that when to the care and expense of a young family was added a long and severe illness of the wife, they were often in sore pecuniary difficulties. Jahn says that if Mozart had been as good a man of business as his father, he would have done very well in Vienna, for he earned a very good income. As a matter of fact, from this time to the end of his career, his life was one long struggle, and not always a successful one, to keep his head above water.
Mozart's chief source of income at this time seems to have been derived from his playing, for he was in great demand, not only at concerts, but in the houses of the nobility. According to the unanimous verdict of his contemporaries, he was the greatest pianist and (in the best sense of the term) virtuoso of his day. After his death, Joseph Haydn is reported to have said, with tears in his eyes: "I can never forget Mozart's playing; it came from the heart." The Emperor also highly appreciated the composer's genius, and it is probably only owing to the intrigues of the Italian musicians by whom he was surrounded that he did not confer some adequately paid appointment upon Mozart.
In July, 1783, shortly after the birth of his first child, Mozart took his wife to Salzburg to introduce her to his father and sister. He had, before his marriage, made a vow that, if ever Constanze became his wife, he would compose a new Mass for performance at Salzburg. The work was not quite completed, but he supplied the missing numbers from one of his earlier Masses. As the Archbishop of Salzburg refused permission for the Mass to be performed in the cathedral, it was given in St. Peter's Church, Constanze singing the principal soprano part. The Mass, which is in C minor, is laid out on a much larger scale than those which Mozart wrote for Salzburg, the "Gloria" being in seven movements, while two of the choruses are in five and one in eight parts. The work is a curious mixture; many of the choruses are quite elevated in style, and not unworthy of the "Requiem" itself. The solos are much lighter, and of a florid character. Mozart never finished the Mass, but he used the music two years later for his cantata, Davide Penitente.
During his visit to Salzburg Mozart began work on two new buffo operas, L'Oca del Cairo, the libretto by Varesco, who had written the text of Idomeneo, and Lo Sposo Deluso, by an unknown poet. Neither work, however, was completed.
After his return to Vienna in October, 1783, Mozart's time was fully occupied with concerts and composition. The year 1784 saw the birth of many of his finest works, which at this time were exclusively instrumental. Among them are several of his best piano concertos, which he wrote for his own performance at concerts in which he took part. The list also includes the great sonata in C minor for the piano, a work not without influence on Beethoven, and the beautiful sonata in B flat for piano and violin, composed for Mdlle. Strinasacchi, a young violinist for whose benefit concert, Mozart had promised to write a new work. Being pressed for time, Mozart had deferred writing the sonata till the day before the concert, when the young lady, with much trouble, obtained from him the violin part only. She practised it the next morning, and in the evening played it with the composer without any rehearsal. The Emperor was present at the concert, and, looking through his opera-glass, noticed that Mozart had a blank sheet of music-paper before him. After the sonata was finished, the Emperor sent a message that he wished to see the manuscript. The composer brought the blank sheet. "What, Mozart!" said Joseph, "at your tricks again?" "Please your Majesty," was the reply, "there was not a note lost." Only musicians will be able fully to appreciate the wonderful feat of memory which such a performance involved.
In 1785 Leopold Mozart returned his son's visit, and it was at this time that he made the acquaintance of Joseph Haydn, with whom Wolfgang was on intimate terms. Leopold met Haydn for the first time at a party at his son's house, where three of Mozart's recently composed quartetts were played. It was on that occasion that Haydn said to the proud father: "I declare to you before God, and as a man of honour, that your son is the greatest composer that I know; he has taste, and beyond that the most consummate knowledge of the art of composition."
In February, 1786, was produced the music to Der Schauspieldirector, a German comedy in one act, for some festivities given by the Emperor at Schönbrunn. Mozart's share of the work consisted merely of an overture and four vocal numbers. Though the music is extremely melodious, it adds nothing to the composer's fame. Far more interesting and important were the two piano concertos in A major and C minor, both written in March of the same year. But all other compositions of this time sink into insignificance by the side of the opera Le Nozze di Figaro, which was produced in Vienna on May 1, 1786. The libretto was adapted by Lorenzo da Ponte, a theatrical poet who was a favourite with the Emperor, from Beaumarchais' comedy, "Le Mariage de Figaro." The subject was suggested by the composer himself. As on so many previous occasions, there were violent intrigues against the piece; but, thanks probably in a great measure to the support of the Emperor, these were unsuccessful, and the Irish singer, Michael Kelly, who took the part of Basilio at the first performance, says in his "Reminiscences": "Never was anything more complete than the triumph of Mozart and his Nozze di Figaro, to which numerous overflowing audiences bore witness." Almost more enthusiasm was shown at Prague, where the opera was given a few months later. At the invitation of some of his friends, Mozart went to Prague to witness the success of his work. His reception there was overwhelming. Two concerts which he gave in the city realized a profit of 1,000 florins. At the first of these was produced the fine symphony in D known as the "Prague Symphony." At the same concert he extemporized, in his own masterly manner, for half an hour, after which, in reply to a call for "something from Figaro," he improvised variations on "Non più andrai." This visit had an important result. Mozart remarked to Bondini, the manager of the theatre, that, as the people of Prague appreciated him so much, he should like to write an opera for them, whereupon the manager took him at his word, and commissioned an opera from him for the following season.
MOZART IN 1791.
(From an original at Salzburg.)
As the libretto of Figaro had suited him so well, it was only natural that Mozart should again apply to Da Ponte for a book for the new work. The subject chosen was the old legend of Don Giovanni, and in September, 1787, Mozart and his wife went to Prague in order that he might, as was his custom, be near the artists who were to sing in the work. Meanwhile his pen had been by no means idle. From the autograph catalogue of his works, which he began to keep in 1784 and continued till his last illness, we find that between Figaro and Don Giovanni he wrote thirty works, including some of the more important of his compositions in the domain of chamber music. Among these maybe specially named the string quintetts in C major and G minor, the two great pianoforte duet sonatas in F and C, the charming trio in E flat for piano, clarinet, and viola, and the sonata in A for piano and violin.
Arrived in Prague, Mozart first lodged at an inn, but later removed to the house of his friend Duschek, in the suburbs of the city. Here a great part of the opera was written, each number being sent to the singers as soon as it was completed. Visitors to Prague are still shown the summer-house with a stone table in the garden of Duschek's house, at which Mozart used to work at his opera while his friends were playing at bowls. It is said that he would leave his work from time to time to take his part in the game, and then resume it without having lost the thread of his ideas. The story has often been told how, on the night before the production of the opera, the overture was still unwritten. Mozart had parted late in the evening from his friends, and his wife mixed him a glass of punch and sat up with him while he wrote, telling him fairy tales to keep him awake. At last sleep overpowered him, and she persuaded him to lie down for an hour or two. At five she woke him, and when at seven the copyist came for the score the overture was ready. There was barely time to get the parts copied before the evening, and the excellent orchestra played it at sight without rehearsal. Mozart, who was conducting, said to the players near him: "A good many notes fell under the desks, but it went very well."
The first performance of Don Giovanni took place on October 29, 1787, and excited the utmost enthusiasm. Unfortunately, the composer's father was not able to witness his son's triumph, as he had died in the preceding May, after a long illness. Mozart returned to Vienna shortly after the production of his opera, but his success brought about but little improvement in his pecuniary circumstances. True, the Emperor appointed him "kammermusikus" in December, but the salary attached to the post—800 florins—was ridiculously small. His only duty was to write dance music for the masked balls of the Imperial Court; this caused him to make the bitter remark that his salary was too much for what he did, and too little for what he could do.
On May 7, 1788, Don Giovanni was given at Vienna. For this performance the composer had written three additional numbers, two of which were Don Ottavio's air, "Dalla sua pace," and Elvira's "Mi tradi quell' alma ingrata." The work, nevertheless, proved a failure; the style was too novel for the taste of the audience. The Emperor, after hearing it, said: "The opera is divine—perhaps even more beautiful than Figaro—but it is no food for the teeth of my Viennese." When this was repeated to Mozart, he said: "Let us give them time to chew it, then!" and, by his advice, the opera was repeated at short intervals until the public became accustomed to its beauties. The applause increased at each fresh performance.
The most important works composed in the year 1788 were the three great symphonies in E flat, G minor, and C major (generally known as the "Jupiter"), the last of forty-nine which Mozart wrote. In these he rises to a height which in his previous instrumental works he had seldom attained. The symphony in G minor, unquestionably the finest work ever written for a small orchestra, has never been surpassed in its combination of passion and pathos; while the finale of the "Jupiter" symphony, with its elaborate fugal counterpoint, still remains without a rival in its combination of the most consummate learning with the utmost profusion of melodic invention.
It was toward the close of this year that the Baron van Swieten, an enthusiastic lover of Handel's music, commissioned Mozart to arrange Acis and Galatea for performance at some concerts with which the Baron was connected, and of which he superintended the preparation. In Mozart's autograph catalogue, already spoken of, we find that the arrangement was made in November, 1788. In the course of the following year he made a similar arrangement of the Messiah, and, in 1790, of Alexander's Feast and the Ode for St. Cecilia's Day. Space will not allow a detailed criticism of these arrangements; it must suffice to say that, while often extremely beautiful, they are not always in accordance with Handel's spirit or intentions, the probable explanation being that Mozart, as we learn from Otto Jahn, knew but little of Handel's music till introduced to it by Baron van Swieten.
In 1789 Mozart accepted an invitation from his pupil and patron, Prince Karl Lichnowsky, to accompany him on a visit to Berlin. The composer, whose pecuniary position was still very precarious, no doubt hoped that he might find some post in the North of Germany which would be worthy of his acceptance and relieve him from his pressing embarrassments. Leaving Vienna on April 8, he arrived four days later at Dresden, where he played before the Court, receiving for his performance the sum of 100 ducats. Thence he proceeded to Leipzig, where he made the acquaintance of Rochlitz, who, in his "Für Freunde der Tonkunst," has preserved some interesting reminiscences of his visit. It was here also that, through Doles, the cantor of the Thomas-Schule, he learned to know the great motetts of Sebastian Bach, for which he expressed the highest admiration.
On his arrival at Berlin, Mozart was at once conducted by Prince Lichnowsky to Potsdam, to be presented to the King, Frederick William II., who was a great lover of music and a good performer on the violoncello. The King received him very warmly, and took special pleasure in hearing him improvise. Mozart, however, derived but little pecuniary advantage from his visit. The King, it is true, offered him the post of kapellmeister at his Court with a salary of 3,000 thalers, but the composer, with whom worldly considerations had little weight, declined the offer, saying: "Can I leave my good Emperor?" The only profit made by the tour was a present from the King of 100 friedrichs d'or, which was accompanied by a wish that Mozart should write some quartetts for him. Three string quartetts (in D, B flat, and F), in all of which the part for the violoncello is of more than usual prominence, were written for and dedicated to the King.
After his return to Vienna Mozart's embarrassments became more pressing than ever. The ill-health of his wife involved him in constant expense, and his income was at all times precarious. By the advice of his friends he informed the Emperor of the offer that had been made him by the King of Prussia. The Emperor asked if he were really going to leave him, and Mozart replied: "Your Majesty, I throw myself upon your kindness; I remain." No improvement, however, resulted in his position, though it was at the suggestion of the Emperor that he was commissioned to write a new opera for Vienna. This was the two-act opera buffa Cosi fan tutte, the libretto of which was again from the pen of Da Ponte, and which was produced on January 26, 1790. The first performances appear to have been successful; but the death of the Emperor in the following month caused the theatre to be closed for some time; in all it was given ten times, and then fell out of the repertoire. The plot of the opera is weak and improbable, and the indifferent quality of the libretto is without doubt the chief reason why the music is as a whole inferior to that of Don Giovanni and Figaro. Cosi fan tutte, nevertheless, contains some of its composer's best work, especially in the concerted movements, such as the trio "Soave sia il vento," the quintett and sextett in the first act, and the two finales. The orchestral colouring also is almost richer and more varied than in any of Mozart's preceding operas.
The accession of Leopold II. to the throne of Austria brought no improvement in the composer's circumstances, for the new Emperor's tastes differed widely from those of Joseph, and it soon became evident that those who had enjoyed the favour of the latter had but little to hope from his successor. Mozart applied for the post of second kapellmeister, and also asked to be allowed to teach the young Princes; but both requests were refused. Thinking that the coronation of the Emperor at Frankfort might afford him a favourable opportunity for an artistic tour, Mozart, who was obliged to pawn his plate in order to procure the necessary funds, started for that city on September 26, and gave a concert of his own compositions in the Stadt-Theatre on October 14. But neither here nor at Mannheim and Munich, which he visited on his return journey, did he make much profit, and he returned to Vienna with little or no improvement in his circumstances. Here he had the pain of parting with one of his dearest friends, Joseph Haydn, who was just leaving for London with Salomon, who had engaged him for a series of concerts.* Salomon also entered into negotiations with Mozart for a similar series in the following year, but before that time the composer was no more. He and Haydn never met again.
* It was for these concerts that Haydn composed his best-known and finest symphonies—those called in this country the "Salomon Set."
In May, 1791, an old acquaintance of Mozart's, Emanuel Schickaneder, the manager of a small theatre at Vienna, being in embarrassed circumstances, proposed to Mozart to write an opera on a magic subject, of which he, Schickaneder, would prepare the libretto. Mozart, always ready to help a friend, agreed, though with some little hesitation, saying that he had never written a magic opera. The work was Die Zauberflöte, and Mozart began its composition at once. Various causes interfered with its rapid progress. It was while working at it that the first signs of the breaking up of his vital powers showed themselves. He suffered from fainting fits, and in June he was obliged to suspend work on the opera and go to Baden, a suburb of Vienna, to recruit his health.
It was while engaged on the composition of Die Zauberflöte that Mozart received from a mysterious stranger the commission to write a Requiem Mass. He was asked to name his own terms, but was enjoined to make no effort to discover who it was that had ordered the work. Mozart, who had written no church music since his Mass in C minor eight years before, eagerly accepted the commission, and began work at once. It is now ascertained beyond a doubt that the individual who visited Mozart was the steward of a certain Count Walsegg, an amateur musician who desired to be thought a great composer, and who actually copied the score of the Requiem and had it performed as his own work.
Mozart's work on the Zauberflöte and the Requiem were alike interrupted in August by a commission which it was needful to execute at once. This was the composition of an opera for Prague, to be performed there on the occasion of the coronation of the Emperor Leopold II. as King of Bohemia. The libretto selected was Metastasio's La Clemenza di Tito, which had been already set to music by several eminent composers. As the coronation was to take place in the following month, Mozart had but little time for composition; according to Jahn, the opera was completed in eighteen days. Its first performance took place on September 6, and was not a success. Mozart, who was in bad health when he arrived in Prague, and who had become still worse through his arduous exertions in getting the work ready in time for the performance, was greatly depressed at its failure.
Returning to Vienna in September, with health and spirits alike failing him, Mozart resumed work on Die Zauberflöte, which was produced on the 30th of the same month, the composition of the overture and the march which opens the second act having been only completed two days previously. Though the success of the first performance was less than had been anticipated, the public soon began to appreciate its beauties; it was given twenty-four times in the following month and reached its hundredth performance in a little more than a year.
PART OF THE SCORE OF THE "DE PROFUNDIS." (British Museum.)
As soon as the opera was off his mind, Mozart returned to his still incomplete Requiem, a work which now engrossed all his attention and energy. In his enfeebled and depressed state he formed the idea that he was writing the Requiem for himself, and had a firm conviction that he had been poisoned. By the advice of his doctor his wife took away the score from him, and a temporary improvement resulted, which enabled him to write a small cantata for a masonic festival—the last work which he entered in the thematic catalogue already mentioned. At his request his wife returned him the score of the Requiem, but as soon as he resumed work upon it all the unfavourable symptoms returned with increased violence, and partial paralysis set in. In the latter part of November he took to his bed, from which he was never to rise again. By a sad irony of fate, it was during his last illness that fortune smiled upon him for the first time: some of the Hungarian nobility joined to assure him of an annual income of 1,000 florins, while music publishers at Amsterdam gave him commissions for compositions which would have insured him against want for the future. But all came too late for the dying composer, and his last hours were embittered by the thought of leaving his wife and children unprovided for at the very time when he would have been able to support them in comfort. To the last his mind was full of his unfinished Requiem, and on the afternoon before his death, he had the score laid on his bed, and the music sung by his friends, he himself taking the alto part. When they reached the opening bars of the "Lacrymosa," Mozart burst into a violent fit of weeping, and the score was laid aside. In the evening the physician told Mozart's pupil, Süssmayr, in confidence that there was nothing more to be done; but he ordered cold bandages to be applied to the head, which brought on such convulsions that Mozart lost consciousness; he never recovered it, but died at one o'clock on the morning of December 5, 1791. He was buried the next day in the churchyard of St. Marx in so violent a storm that the mourners all turned back before reaching the graveyard, where the great composer was laid, not in a grave of his own, but in that allotted to paupers. When the widow was sufficiently recovered from the first shock to be able to go to the burial-ground to look for the grave, a new sexton was there who knew nothing about the matter, and the exact spot under which Mozart's remains rest has never been identified with certainty.