CHAPTER XXIV. FIRST ATTEMPTS IN VIENNA.
WHEN Mozart's withdrawal from the service of the Archbishop had become an established fact, the latter was anxious to show the world that it lay in his power to attract equally distinguished artists to his service, and he offered a salary of one thousand gulden to Leop. Kozeluch, who was considered the first clavier-player in Vienna, if he would come to Salzburg. Kozeluch refused, as Mozart wrote to his father (July 4, 1781), because he was better off in Vienna, and he had said to his friends: "The affair with Mozart is what chiefly alarms me; if he could let such a man as that leave him, what would become of me?"
L. Mozart, much against his will, was obliged to reconcile himself to the step his son had taken.[ 1 ] He was full of WORK IN VIENNA, 1781. anxiety, caused by his conviction of Wolfgang's incapacity in matters relating to his own advancement, by his fear lest he should not be able to withstand the seductions of the pleasure-loving capital, and also, perhaps, by an unconscious feeling of annoyance at his son's independent demeanour. This caused him to express his affectionate and really justifiable concern in so perverse a manner that, instead of lightening Wolfgang's difficult position, he embittered his life with reproaches and objections, which were generally exaggerated, and often entirely unreasonable; for he was weak enough to place easy faith in rumours and gossip. He had so long been accustomed to undertake the care of all Wolfgang's affairs that he could not bring himself quietly to resign all interference in them. Mozart did not allow himself to be over-persuaded; he held fast to his independence, as well as to his reverence and love for his father, whose reproofs and accusations he repeatedly disclaimed.
At first, indeed, the father's gloomy forebodings seemed more likely to be verified than the brilliant hopes of the son. Summer had arrived, most of the nobility had gone to their country seats, and there was little to be done in the way of lessons or concerts. The Countess Rumbeck (née Cobenzl), who was afterwards considered a first-rate clavier-player,[ 2 ] remained his only pupil, since he would not abate his price of six ducats; but he managed to exist in spite of all. He consoled himself by the reflection that it was the dull season, and that he must employ his leisure by preparing for the winter. He worked diligently at six sonatas for the clavier, which were to be published by subscription; the Countess Thun and other ladies of rank undertook to collect subscriptions. They secured seventeen during the summer, and hoped for more in the autumn. He set to work to arrange a concert to be given during Advent; Rossi wrote the words for an Italian cantata which was to be composed for the occasion. But what lay nearest his heart was the composition of an opera in Vienna; his conviction of his vocation as a dramatic composer having been strengthened FIRST ATTEMPTS IN VIENNA. by the performances at the Vienna theatre, and the lively interest taken in them by the public. "My only entertainment," he writes to his sister (July 4, 1781), "consists in the theatre. I wish you could see a tragedy performed here! I know no other theatre where every kind of play is given to perfection. Every part, even the smallest and the worst, is well filled." The performances of the Vienna stage had, in point of fact, reached the highest level of excellence known at that time.[ 3 ]
Since the time when the stage had joined in the struggle which ended in the triumph of German literature and art over buffoonery and extemporised pieces, the theatre had remained the gathering-point of literary interests. The best authors of the day wrote for the stage with the avowed object of improving taste and aiding the spread of culture; such were Klemm, Heufeld, Ayrenhoff, and Gebler, and their efforts were ably seconded by such actors as Müller and the brothers Stephanie.[ 4 ]
The new and difficult task appointed for them spurred the actors to extraordinary efforts. A general feeling of sympathy and esteem began to replace the contempt in which the dramatic art had been held, and the stage was soon looked upon as the gauge of a nation's moral and intellectual cultivation. This elevation of the art as a whole benefited the artists as individuals, the interdict which society had laid upon them was removed, and actors became favoured members of the best and most cultivated circles.[ 5 ] The Vienna theatre in especial, since Joseph II. in the year 1776 had saved it from the weakening influence of variable private patronage, and had constituted it the court and national theatre, had rapidly reached to an unprecedented height of excellence. This monarch looked upon the theatre as an important means of national cultivation, took a lively interest in it, and shared himself in its practical management; he also watched over the talents and the destinies THE VIENNA STAGE. of his actors with shrewd penetration and warm sympathy.[ 6 ] He was careful, by lowering the prices of admission,[ 7 ] to make attendance at the theatre more general than it had hitherto been; and an entertainment, which had borne almost exclusively the character of a court festival or an assembly of persons of rank, was thus placed within the reach of the citizen class.[ 8 ] Literary criticism too, let loose by the introduction of the liberty of the press, turned its attention to the drama, and enlightened the general reader on the quality of the entertainment afforded to him by the author and by the actor. In this way a public was educated without reference to rank or class, to whom the poet and musician could appeal as an independent artist, instead of ministering as heretofore exclusively to the entertainment of his patrons—a state of affairs which must have had important influence on the position of artists, more especially of musicians.
The theatrical public of Vienna at the time of which we are speaking had the reputation of being attentive, discerning, and appreciative, ready and liberal in its acknowledgment of what was good.[ 9 ] And in truth it had cause. Shortly before Mozart came to Vienna, Schroder and his wife had set the crown on admirable acting; and associated with them were Müller, Lange, Weidman, Brockmann, Jacquet, Bergopzoomer, the brothers Stephanie, Mesdames Weidner, Adamberger, Jacquet, Sacco, Stierle, Rouseul—affording proof that Mozart did not overrate the talent of his contemporaries.[ 10 ]
In the same spirit in which he had founded the national theatre Joseph II. abolished the costly spectacular ballet and the Italian opera. In the place of the latter he instituted a "national vaudeville," as he called the German FIRST ATTEMPTS IN VIENNA. opera.[ 11 ] In December, 1777, he resolved to make a modest beginning with the forces which he had at his command. Umlauf, tenorist in the orchestra, had written the little operetta of "Die Bergknappen," in which only four characters appeared. The principal part was intended for Mdlle. Cavalieri, the second for Madame Stierle; the male parts were to be undertaken by Ruprecht, the tenor singer, and Fuchs, the bass; the chorus was composed of church choristers, and the management was entrusted to Müller, the actor. The rehearsals were very carefully made, and the Emperor having expressed his satisfaction at a dress rehearsal, the German opera was opened with "Die Bergknappen" on February 18. 1778. The performance was highly successful,[ 12 ] and in the course of the following year fourteen operas or vaudevilles were performed, partly translations, with Italian or French music, such as "Robert und Kalliste" ("La Sposa Fedele"), by Guglielmi; "Röschen und Colas," by Monsigny; "Lucile," "Silvain," "Der Hausfreund," by Grétry; "Anton und Antonette," by Gossec; and partly original pieces composed in Vienna, such as "Die Apotheke," by Umlauf; "Die Kinder der Natur," by Aspelmeyer; "Frühling und Liebe," by Ulbrich; and "Diesmal hat der Mann den Willen," by Ordonnez.
The only singer of lasting reputation who took part in the first opera was Katharina Cavalieri (1761-1801). Daughter of a poor schoolmaster named Cavalier in Währing, her talent was perceived and cultivated by Salieri, and she appeared in Italian opera as early as 1775. She soon became a bravura singer of the first rank.[ 13 ] It was clearly necessary that she should be well supported if the opera was to compete with the drama proper. The first wife of the GERMAN OPERETTA. actor Lange, Mariane Schindler, was secured; but after having achieved great success in Grétr's "Hausfreund" and "Lucile," and bidding fair to become a main support of the opera, both by her singing and acting, she died in the winter of 1779.[ 14 ] The following summer, through the intervention of the ambassador, Count Hardeck, Aloysia Weber was summoned from Munich, and took her place, not only on the stage, but in the affections of Lange, who shortly after made her his second wife. Aloysia Weber made her début in the part of the Rosenmädchen of Salency, and was received with general approbation.[ 15 ] It was evident, therefore, that Mozart was not blinded by youthful inclination when, he declared her one of the first singers of her time, a judgment which posterity has ratified. The second parts had been allotted before her arrival to Theresa Teyber, afterwards Madame Arnold, who pleased by her fresh, youthful voice, while that of Madame Fischer (née Strasser), from Mannheim, a clever singer and good actress, was already somewhat past. In the summer of 1781 they had been joined by Madame Bernasconi (p. 130), by the desire, as it was said, of Gluck, who had used the influence of Count Dietrichstein to press her on the Emperor; but the position was not well suited to her talent. Mozart gives his opinion as follows (August 29, 1781):—
In the great parts of tragedy Bernasconi remains inimitable. But small operettas are not in her style at all; and then (as she acknowledges herself) she is more Italian than German, speaks on the stage with the same Viennese accent as in common life (just imagine!), and when she occasionally makes an effort it is as if one heard a princess declaim in a marionette theatre. And she sings so badly that no one will consent to compose for her.
And even before this (June 27, 1781) he had written derisively:—
She has three hundred ducats salary because she sings all her songs a division higher than they are written. It is really a great art, for she keeps well in tune. She has now promised to sing them half a tone higher, and then of course she will be paid more.
There were male singers also, who were quite on an equality with these female vocalists. Soon after the opening of the opera the tenors Souter and Dauer, a whimsical actor with a fine voice,[ 16 ] were engaged, and at a later date Adamberger, one of the most admirable tenors, a singer of artistic style and cultivation, and a "very respectable" actor of lovers' parts. Fischer was secured as a bass; the compass, strength, and beauty of his voice and his artistic cultivation, both as a singer and an actor, placed him in the very first rank among the singers of Germany. With him were associated Günther and Schmidt as bass singers, and Saal as a baritone.[ 17 ] There were thus all the materials required for the production of German operas, except a composer who could write them. Umlauf and some others who imitated him were not the men for such an undertaking. Gluck had composed nothing since his "Iphigenia in Taurus," and contented himself with putting on the stage, in 1780, "Die Pilgrimme von Mekka," a comic opera which had been written for Vienna with French words ("La Rencontre Imprévue") in 1764, and which was often played in its German adaptation.[ 18 ] In the following year, by the express command of the Emperor Joseph, Salieri wrote a German comic opera, "Der Rauchfangkehrer"[ 19 ] ("The Chimney-Sweep"), the text of which, by Dr. Auembrugger, was unusually bad;[ 20 ] but Salieri was too much of an Italian to have GERMAN OPERA. much effect on German opera. The operetta was assiduously cultivated in North Germany, and a long list of those which were produced might be given. But the contrast between North and South Germany, founded on their political and religious differences, was visible unpleasantly enough in literature and art, and had a marked influence on their musical sympathies and antipathies.[ 21 ] Nicolai relates that he had heard in Vienna many genuine and accomplished musical connoisseurs speak of Ph. Em. Bach not only with indifference, but with absolute dislike, and place Kozeluch and Steffan before all other clavier-players.[ 22 ] Adamberger, when asked his opinion concerning a celebrated singer from North Germany, answered that she sang like a Lutheran; and on being pressed for an explanation, replied, "I call it singing like a Lutheran to have a beautiful voice as the gift of nature, and even to have received a good musical education, as is frequently the case in North Germany, but to show no signs of study in the Italian school of music, through which alone the true art of singing can be learnt."[ 23 ]
There was little demand in Vienna, therefore, for the compositions which Hiller's successful enterprise with German opera had brought into being; the works of men such as Benda, Schweitzer, Wolf, Neefe, André, and Reichard; their operas were not performed, and still less was there any prospect of a field for their future labours in Vienna. Schweitzer was not summoned, in spite of Wieland's pressing recommendation (Vol. I., p. 406). G. Benda had shown himself not disinclined to remove to Vienna,[ 24 ] and report had pointed to him as probable kapellmeister in 1778,[ 25 ] but he had never been seriously thought of. It appeared, therefore, that a most fitting career stood open for Mozart, and he himself wished nothing more than to prove his powers in this branch of his art. He had brought with him his operetta FIRST ATTEMPTS IN VIENNA. "Zaide," in the hope of having it performed. The libretto, as he had feared, proved a stumbling-block (Vol. II.,p. 115); but the younger Stephanie, at that time inspector of the opera, formed so favourable an opinion of the music, that he promised to give Mozart a new and good piece, which he was to compose for the Vienna stage. His father warned him that Stephanie was not to be depended upon; and he was right. Stephanie the younger was an arrogant, selfish man, who had made himself hated everywhere by his intrigues and pretensions. Mozart knew that he was in ill repute, and was upon his guard. He resolved to write no opera without the express commission of Count Rosenberg, who had had supreme direction of the theatre since 1776; but Stephanie continued friendly, and there seemed no actual cause for personal distrust. Count Rosenberg had received Mozart well whenever he had waited upon him, and had joined in the applause of other connoisseurs upon the occasion of the performance of "Idomeneo" at the house of Countess Thun, Van Swieten and Sonnenfels being also among the audience. It was not long, therefore, before Mozart was able to announce to his father the good news (June 9, 1781) that Count Rosenberg had commissioned Schroder, the distinguished actor, to look out a good libretto, which was to be given to Mozart for composition. A few days afterwards Stephanie told him of a piece he had found in four acts, of which the first was excellent, but the others fell off, so that it was doubtful whether Schroder would undertake the adaptation of it. "They may settle that between them," wrote Wolfgang (June 16, 1781). The book was rejected, but the matter did not rest; the Emperor was evidently anxious to give Mozart an opportunity of trying his powers as a German operatic composer; and at the end of July the latter found himself at the goal of his wishes, and able to inform his father (August 1, 1781):—
Yesterday young Stephanie gave me a book for composition. It is very good; the subject is Turkish, and it is called "Belmont und Constance," or "Die Entführung aus dem Serail." The overture, the chorus in the first act, and the concluding chorus I shall compose in Turkish music. Mdlle. Cavalieri, Mdlle. Teyber, M. Fischer, THE "ENTFÜHRUNG. M. Adamberger, M. pauer, and M. Walter are to sing in the opera. I am so delighted at having it to compose that the first songs for Cavalieri and Adamberger and the terzet at the close of the first act are already finished. The time given is short, certainly, for it is to be performed in the middle of September, but the attendant circumstances will be all the more favourable. And indeed everything combines to raise my spirits, so that I hasten to my writing-table with the greatest eagerness, and it is with difficulty I tear myself away.
The favourable circumstances which made Mozart so hopeful chiefly consisted in the expected visit of the Grand Duke Paul and his wife; the opera was to be among the festivities given in their honour, and it was safely to be expected that the Emperor and Count Rosenberg would consider it to his credit if he prepared the work in such haste for them; but all this was to be a secret. It was now very convenient to him to be in a house with good friends who would provide him with dinner and supper, and so enable him to sit writing all day. "You know of old how hungry I get when I am composing." He continued in this whirl of excitement, and was able to write on August 8:—
I have just finished the chorus of Janizaries. Adamberger, Cavalieri, and Fischer are thoroughly pleased with their songs. I let the Countess Thun hear as much as is ready. She told me afterwards that she was ready to stake her life on it that what I had written so far would please. On this point, however, I listen to no man's praise or blame before the whole has been heard or seen, but I follow entirely my own feelings—only you may see from it how greatly she was pleased with the music herself.
On August 22 he wrote that the first act was finished; soon after he learnt, to his relief, that the Grand Duke was not coming until November, so that he could write his opera "with greater deliberation" (September 5, 1781). Shortly afterwards he informs his father (September 26, 1781):—
The first act was ready three weeks ago, and an aria in the second act and the drinking duet, which consists of nothing but my Turkish tattoo; but I cannot do any more at present, the whole thing being upset, and by my own desire. At the beginning of the third act there is a charming quintet, or rather finale, and this I mean to transfer to the end of the second act. But it will necessitate considerable alterations and the introduction of a fresh intrigue, and Stephanie is over head and ears in work.
Another circumstance also interfered with the completion of Mozart's opera. It was proposed in honour of the distinguished visitors to perform two of Gluck's operas, viz.: "Iphigenia" in a German adaptation, and "Alceste" in Italian, "in order," as a contemporary announcement puts it, "to show what we Germans are able to accomplish."[ 26 ] Certainly the choice was well made with this object in view, although it was said in Vienna, as Mozart wrote to his father (August 29,1781), that it had been difficult to persuade the Emperor into it, for he was at heart as little partial to Gluck as to Gluck's favourite singer, Bernasconi.[ 27 ] The projected performance of these operas disturbed all Mozart's calculations. The applause which had been bestowed on his "Idomeneo" by capable and influential judges, and the readiness of the singers to appear in it, had raised the hope of producing it on this occasion in a German adaptation, which would have involved alterations in the composition; but a third grand opera would have been too much, and it could not have been studied together with Gluck's. Even the comic opera had to be temporarily laid aside until Gluck's two operas were ready—"and there is plenty of study to be got through still," he wrote to his father (October 6, 1781). He was at work at it again in the middle of November; but the original intention of having it completed by the arrival of the Grand Duke was no longer feasible. On November 21 "that grand animal, the Grand Duke," arrived under the name of Count von Narden, and on the 25th a brilliant festival was given at Schonbrunn. "Tomorrow 'Alceste' is given at Schonbrunn,"[ 28 ] writes Mozart, ARCHDUKE MAXIMILIAN. sorrowfully (November 24, 1781). "I have been looking up Russian popular songs, in order to play variations on them."
Shortly before the arrival of the Grand Duke, the Duke of Würtemberg, with his consort, the Princess Elizabeth, intended bride of the Archduke Franz, and her brother, Prince Ferdinand, had entered Vienna. "The Duke is a charming man, and the Duchess and Princess also; but the Prince is an octogenarian stick, and a real blockhead," was Mozart's concise description (November 17, 1781); but the arrival of the trio opened a favourable prospect for him. The Princess, who had come to have the finishing touches put to her education in Vienna, required a teacher of music, and this position, which, besides making a welcome addition to his income, would bring him into contact with very influential persons, Mozart hoped to obtain. His chief supporter was the Emperor's youngest brother, the Archduke Maximilian, at that time Coadjutor of the Elector of Cologne. The Archduke was musical, and had an excellent band of wind instruments in his pay;[ 29 ] he had a favourable remembrance of Mozart from his visit to Salzburg in 1775, and proved a very warm patron. Mozart wrote to his father (November 1781):—
Yesterday at three o'clock I was summoned by the Archduke. When I went in he was standing in the first room by the stove, and he came straight up to me and asked if I had anything to do to-day? "No, your royal highness, nothing at all; but even were it otherwise, I should be delighted to place my time at the disposal of your Royal Highness." "No, no; I do not want to disturb anybody." Then he said that he had a mind to give a concert in the evening at the Würtemberg court, and would like me to play something and to accompany the songs; I was to go to him again at six o'clock. I played there last evening accordingly.
At the same time, Mozart could not conceal from himself that the Archduke had changed very much to his disadvantage:—
Before he was a priest he was much wittier and more intellectual, and spoke less but more sensibly. You should see him now! Stupidity stares out of his eyes, he talks and chatters without stopping, and all in a sort of falsetto voice; he has a swollen neck; in short, the whole man is transformed!
Nevertheless he continued to patronise Mozart, drew him out on every occasion, and if he had only been Elector of Cologne, Mozart would have been kapellmeister by this time, as he told his father. He had used his influence with the Princess to take Mozart as her music-master, but received for answer that if it depended on herself she would certainly have chosen him, but the Emperor—"he cares for no one but Salieri," cries Mozart in disgust—had recommended Salieri to her on account of his singing, and she felt obliged to engage him, to her great regret.
It was quite true that Salieri stood high in the favour of Joseph II. He had been pupil of the Emperor's special favourite Gassmann, and had in a sense grown up under the royal eye;[ 30 ] he was regularly engaged at the imperial private concerts, and retained possession of his patron's favour by means both of his music and his personal demeanour. It was plain, therefore, that the preference for Salieri shown by the Emperor on this occasion did not arise from any ill-will towards Mozart; he was in close personal intercourse with Salieri, and esteemed him highly as a vocal composer, while Mozart was only known to him as a clavier-player. As such he had great admiration for him, and Mozart informed his father (December 26, 1781) that the Emperor had lately "passed the greatest éloge on him in the words 'C'est un talent décidé.'"
He had also (on December 14) commanded Mozart to play at court, and had arranged for him a contest of skill with Clementi, who had come to Vienna with the reputation of a clavier-player of unheard-of excellence. Clementi relates the encounter to his pupil L. Berger:[ 31 ]—
I had only been a few days in Vienna when I received an invitation to play before the Emperor on the pianoforte. On entering the music-room I beheld an individual whose elegant attire led me to mistake him for an imperial valet-de-chambre. But we had no sooner entered into conversation than it turned on musical topics, and we soon recognised in each other with sincere pleasure brother artists—Mozart and Clementi.
Mozart continues the description of the scene (January 16, 1782):—
After we had paid each other all manner of compliments, the Emperor gave the signal that Clementi should begin. "La santa chiesa cattoüca!" said the Emperor—Clementi being a native of Rome. He preluded, and played a sonata.
"It is worthy of note here," says Berger, "that Clementi was peculiarly fond of extemporising long and very interesting and elaborate interludes and cadenzas in the pauses of his sonatas; it was this propensity which led him to select a sonata for performance which lent itself easily to such treatment, although in every other respect this sonata stands behind his earlier compositions of the same kind. It was the following—[See Page Image]
and we have perhaps to thank this subject for the allegro in the overture to the 'Zauberflote,' a composition never surpassed of its kind: [ 32 ]—
The Emperor then said to me: "Allons, d'rauf los!" ("Now then, fire away!") I preluded, and played some variations. Then the Grand Duchess[ 33 ] produced some sonatas by Paesiello (in his own miserable manuscript),[ 34 ] of which I was to play the allegro and Clementi the andante and rondo. Then we each took a subject and carried it out on two pianofortes. By the way, I had borrowed the Countess Thun's pianoforte for myself, but only played upon it when I played alone. The Emperor wished it to be so. The other instrument was out of tune, and had three of its keys sticking. "Never mind," said the Emperor. I look upon it that the Emperor knows my musical powers and knowledge, and wishes to do me justice in the eyes of the foreigners. I know upon very good authority that he was thoroughly satisfied with me.
Dittersdorf confirms this view, and extracts the following from a conversation with Joseph II.:[ 35 ]—
Emperor: "Have you heard Mozart?" Myself: "Three times already." Emperor: "How do you like him?" Myself: "As every connoisseur must like him." Emperor: "Have you heard Clementi also?" Myself: "I have heard him also." Emperor: "Some people prefer him to Mozart, which makes Greybig wild. What is your opinion? speak out." Myself: "In Clementi's playing there is merely art, but in Mozart's both art and taste." Emperor: "That is just what I said myself."
After the competition, the Emperor sent Mozart fifty ducats, "which were very acceptable at the time."
Clementi was delighted with Mozart's playing:—
I had never heard so delicate and graceful an execution. I was especially delighted with an adagio, and with several of his extemporised variations. The Emperor gave the subject, and we varied it, alternately accompanying each other.
On the other hand, Mozart's judgment of Clementi was sharp and severe:—
Clementi is a good player, and that is all one can say. He plays well as far as the execution of his right hand is concerned. His forte lies in passages in thirds. But he has not an atom of taste or feeling, in fact he is a mere mechanist.
When his sister in Salzburg had made acquaintance with Clementi's sonatas, he wrote to her (June 7, 1783):—
Now I must say a word to my sister on the subject of Clementi's sonatas. Every one who plays them must be aware that as compositions they are valueless. There are no striking passages, except the sixths and octaves, and I should strongly advise you not to be too much taken with these, for they are the ruin of a firm and quiet hand, and would soon deprive it of its lightness, flexibility, and flowing rapidity. For what is the object of these passages after all? They must be executed with the utmost rapidity (which not even Clementi himself can accomplish), and a lamentable hash is the result—nothing else in the world, Clementi is a charlatan, like all the Italians! He writes presto on a sonata, or even prestissimo or alia breve, and plays it allegro in three-four time. I have heard him do it! What he does STRACK AND COURT MUSIC. really well are passages in thirds—he worked at them day and night in London—but he can do nothing else, and he has not the least execution or taste, and far less any sentiment in his playing.[ 36 ]
In justification of this censure, Berger mentions Clementi having told him that, at the time of which Mozart writes, he devoted his attention to brilliant execution, and in particular to double runs and extemporised passages; it was only later that he adopted a more expressive style, which was perfected by the study of the best vocal music of the day, and by the gradual improvements made in the instrument known as the English pianoforte, the primitive construction of which had been too defective to allow of an expressive legato execution. Berger remarks further that Mozart's honourable and upright character prevents any suspicion of underhand motives for the severity of his judgment.
Mozart sought to gain favour with the Emperor by securing the support of his groom of the chamber, Strack, who possessed great influence in musical affairs. He tells his father (November 3, 1781) that on his name-day (October 31), which he had celebrated at the house of Baroness Waldstätten, he had been surprised by a serenade of his own composition (375 K.), which he had composed on St. Theresa's day (October 15) for the daughter-in-law of the court painter, Hickl. "The chief reason I wrote it," he continues, "was to let Herr von Strack, who goes there almost daily, hear something of mine, and I made it somewhat serious accordingly; it was very much admired." He ventured at a later date to count upon Strack as his friend with the Emperor, although, as he cautiously adds, "the courtier is never to be trusted" (January 23, 1782). The report having reached Salzburg that the Emperor intended taking Mozart into his service, he answers his father (April 10, 1782):—
The reason that I have not written to you about it is because I know nothing of it myself. It is certain, however, that the whole town is full of it, and that I am congratulated on all sides; I would fain believe, too, that the Emperor has been spoken to on the subject, and FIRST ATTEMPTS IN VIENNA. has it in his mind, but so far I have not heard a word. It has gone so far that the Emperor is thinking of it, and that without my having moved a step in the matter. I have been sundry times to see Herr von Strack (who is on my side) both to keep him in mind of me, and because
I like him; but not often enough to be tiresome or to appear to have any motive in it; and he must acknowledge as an honest man that he has not heard a word from me which could give him occasion to say that I wished to remain, far less to be engaged by the Emperor. We talk of nothing but music. It is of his own free will and quite disinterestedly that he speaks of me to the Emperor. Since it has gone so far without my co-operation, it may come to something. If one appears anxious, there is less chance of a good salary, for the Emperor is certainly a niggard. If he wants to have me, he must pay me for it; for the honour of being in the Emperor's service does not go very far with me.
Joseph II. was accustomed to have a concert in his own apartments every afternoon.[ 37 ] He generally dined alone in the music-room, which did not usually occupy more than a quarter of an hour; if there was no important business to be transacted, the concert began as soon as the cloth was removed, and lasted for about an hour, so that the Emperor might visit the theatre. Three times a week there was a grand concert, at which Gassmann,[ 38 ] and later Salieri, or sometimes Umlauf, were expected to appear; there was no audience, and the Archduke Maximilian, when he was present, took an active part in the performance. Joseph II. possessed a thorough musical education,[ 39 ] and preferred the severe style (Vol. I., p. 368); his fine bass voice had been trained in the Italian school,[ 40 ] and he played the violoncello and viola, as well as the clavier; he also read both vocal and instrumental music with great facility, and was a skilful player from score. Usually separate pieces were selected from operas and, oratorios; the Emperor accompanied from the score on the clavier, and also took a tenor or bass part—a pathetic one by preference.[ 41 ] The pieces chosen were KREIBICH AND THE ORCHESTRA. sometimes old favourites of the Emperor, sometimes new works with which he thus became acquainted; the operas which were afterwards to be performed were generally gone through in this way by the Emperor and the Archduke Maximilian.[ 42 ] The pieces were generally played and sung at sight; it amused the Emperor to put the executants on their trial, and he was delighted at the confusion which often ensued; the more energetic and distracted the conductor Kreibich became, the more heartily the Emperor laughed.[ 43 ]
At the ordinary concerts the Emperor only took part in the quartet. The first violin was played by Kreibich (or Greybig), "a man who was made for a conductor; he has a capital insight into the theory of music, but, unfortunately for his art, affects a certain degree of charlatanry. His timidity prevents his executing solo parts with distinctness and elegance, and his bowing is not sufficiently round and firm." This nervousness, joined to a pompous manner, made him the butt of the jokes and squibs of the musical circle,[ 44 ] and though not at all ill-natured, he was not in a position to make his opinion of value, but allowed himself to be made the tool of others, who were willing enough to let him appear to the Emperor and the public as the leader of all that related to the chamber music. With him were associated the violinists Woborzil, who led the orchestra in the German opera, Hoffmann, Ponheim, and Krottendorfer, mediocre artists and unimportant men; of the last it was only said that he flattered Strack, and was his marionette. Strack was in fact the soul of these concerts; he had the direction of the musicians, played the violoncello, and was present on every occasion, while the others took it by turns; this, together with his personal position, gave him overpowering influence with the Emperor. "You know the kind of men FIRST ATTEMPTS IN VIENNA. who, as Schiller says, come in as makeshifts when any one is wanted. Strack has always been with Joseph, and has used his opportunities so well that, in the musical line, he can do exactly as he likes."
It was a fact that good music, especially good instrumental music, was seldom performed in the closet. If a quartet was played it was by a second-rate composer, and the masters who were then founding a new epoch in this province, Haydn—for whose "tricks" the Emperor did not care much[ 45 ]—and Mozart, together with their imitators, Pleyel and Kozeluch, were excluded, or as good as excluded. This was considered to be owing to Strack's influence, and it was wondered at that Salieri, "the idol of the Emperor," who invariably took part in the private concerts, did not assert his opinion; but he "was too politic to come into collision with the shadow of his Emperor."
How far, after all, was Salieri capable of influencing the music of his day? Joseph's taste had been formed on the tradition of Italian music, represented by Hasse and Piccinni, and his predilections retained the same direction. His wish to develop a national school of music proceeded from rational conviction; and, though he was intellectually capable of appreciating the works of Gluck and Mozart, they were not really after his own heart. He had avowedly accustomed himself to look for entertainment in music, and was overpowered by the independent power and fulness which Gluck, Haydn, and Mozart brought to bear upon their art. Salieri had no reason for combating the Emperor's inclinations, since they were also his own. He skilfully sought to turn to account the acquisitions which music had made in various directions, and to make Italian opera capable of satisfying the demands of a more enlightened taste. With the exception of the operas written for Paris, in which he consciously followed Gluck's manner, he remained throughout true to the tradition of Italian opera, introduced no new element into it, and did not possess SALIERI AND MOZART. originality enough to make an indelible mark on the music of the day. But it was just this mediocrity of talent, skill, and taste which won for him the favour of his imperial master and of the public; it would have required the possession of a singular union of moral and artistic greatness and magnanimity to acknowledge rising genius as superior to his own, and to bow himself down before it—and Salieri was not capable of this. He is described as a benevolent and good-tempered man, amiable in his private life, and adorned with the well-deserved fame of noble and generous actions;[ 46 ] but these good qualities did not preserve from envy either his reputation or his position. In the year 1780 he had just returned from a lengthened tour in Italy, which had brought him new fame and honour, and had confirmed him in the favour of the Emperor; at this point Mozart made his appearance as a rival, dangerous by reason of his brilliant powers of execution, which most readily win the applause of the multitude, as well as by his compositions. The "Entführung" threatening to throw Salieri's "Rauch-fangkehrer" completely into the shade, and "Idomeneo" establishing its composer as a formidable competitor on his own ground, it was impossible that Salieri, who instinctively felt Mozart's superiority, could long pretend indifference to it. There was no interruption of their personal intercourse.[ 47 ] Mozart was friendly and unconstrained in his behaviour to his fellow-artists, "even to Salieri, who could not bear him," as Frau Sophie Haibl, Mozart's sister-in-law, relates, and Salieri was "too politic" to make any show of his dislike to Mozart. It was understood in Vienna, however, that he did dislike him, and that he secretly strove to check his progress, not only by depreciatory criticism,[ 48 ] but by every FIRST ATTEMPTS IN VIENNA. sort of obstacle thrown in his way from the very first. Salieri had been appointed maestro to the Princess Elizabeth, but he was unable to instruct her on the clavier, and Mozart had clearly the next claim. "He may take the trouble," writes he to his father (August 31, 1782), "to do me harm in this matter, but the Emperor knows me; the princess would have liked to learn from me from the first, and I know that my name stands in the book where the list of all those appointed to her service is kept." But Salieri was much too cautious to allow Mozart to attain to such a position. An unknown musician named Summerer was appointed teacher of the clavier to the Princess Elizabeth. Mozart consoled himself, when he heard that the salary was only four hundred florins, by the reflection that it would not leave much over when the waiting, travelling, and other expenses contingent on such a service had been paid for (October 12, 1782).
Under these circumstances Salieri and Strack were naturally sworn allies in the Emperor's music room, and resisted together the introduction of any elements which would undermine their influence by giving the Emperor's taste a new direction. Although, therefore, Mozart was encouraged by the Emperor's expressions of liking for him, more especially as "great rulers are not too fond of saying such things for fear of a dagger-thrust from an envious rival," yet the obstacles which he had to overcome in the surroundings of the Emperor were likely to prove too powerful for him. The Emperor's parsimony also restrained him from adding another kapellmeister to those who were already in receipt of salaries from the court.
Another chance of such a fixed situation as his father was continually urging upon him to secure offered itself through Prince Aloys Liechtenstein, the eldest son of the reigning prince, whose income was estimated at 900,000 imperial CONCERTS, LESSONS, AND COMPOSITIONS. gulden.[ 49 ] He proposed enrolling a band of wind instruments in his service, and wished to engage Mozart to arrange pieces for it. For this he could not expect a high salary, but it would be a certain one, for he had quite resolved to accept none but a permanent engagement. But this hope, too, was disappointed,[ 50 ] and he continued to exist on the uncertain proceeds of lessons, concerts, and composition.
The state of affairs improved somewhat in the winter. He had constant pupils in the Countess Rumbeck and Frau von Trattnem, to whom was added later the Countess Zichy. He gave each of them a lesson daily, and received six ducats for twelve, which sufficed for absolute necessities. Six sonatas for clavier and violin, for which his patronesses had opened a subscription of three ducats, were completed and printed in November, 1781.[ 51 ]
In Lent he gave a concert, at which, following the advice of his patrons, he played selections from "Idomeneo" and his concerto in D major (175 K.), for which he had composed a new rondo (382 K.). The rondo "made a great sensation," and was sent to Salzburg, with a request that it might be treasured as a jewel. "I wrote it especially for myself, and no one else shall play it except my dear sister" (March 2, 1782). As a conclusion he played a fantasia. He had been advised to do this because he would be thereby most certain of outrivalling Clementi, who was giving a concert at about the same time.[ 52 ] Mozart had plenty of invitations to play at other people's concerts and in society, on which occasions a new composition had generally to be written. At Auernhammer's concert, for instance, he played with the daughter a "sonata for two" (381 K.), which he FIRST ATTEMPTS IN VIENNA. had composed on purpose, and which "was a great success" (November 24, 1781). He wrote easier pieces for his pupils. "I must close my letter" he writes (June 20, 1781), "for I have to prepare some variations for a pupil"; and soon after he wrote to his sister (July 4, 1781): "I have written three airs with variations, which are not worth the trouble of sending alone. I will wait until there is something to accompany them."
His time was fully occupied, therefore, and he had no difficulty in proving the injustice of his sister's reproaches to him for not writing oftener (February 13, 1782):—
You must not conclude that you do not give me pleasure by writing to me because I do not always answer you. I always look forward with great pleasure to receiving a letter from you, my dear sister. If I were not prevented by pressing engagements, God knows I would always answer you. Is it true that I have never answered you? It certainly has not been from forgetfulness nor carelessness, but from simple impossibility! Bad enough, you will say, but do I write often, even to my father? You both know Vienna. You ought to know that a man who has no regular income must work day and night in such a city. Our father, when he has finished his church service, and you, when you have dismissed your few pupils, can do as you like all the rest of the day, and you may write letters long enough to contain the whole litany, if you like; but I can do no such thing. I gave my father a description of my mode of life a short time ago. I will repeat it for you now. At six o'clock my barber comes, at seven I am dressed, and write until nine. From nine o'clock till one I give lessons, then I dine, if I am not invited out, in which case we dine at two or even three o'clock, as we shall to-day and to-morrow at the Countess Zichy's and Countess Thun's. I cannot begin to work again till five or six o'clock, and am often even then prevented by a concert; if not, I write. The continual concerts, and the uncertainty as to whether I shall be called away here or there, prevent my writing in the evening; so it is my custom (especially when I come home early) to compose something before I go to bed. I often write on until one o'clock, and am up again at six! My dearest sister, if you really believe that I can forget you or my father, then—but no! God knows it, and that is enough for me; let Him punish me if I ever forget you.
Instances are not wanting of his affection and thought for his father and sister. He sends his father (March 23, 1782) a snuffbox and a pair of watch ribbons: "The snuffbox is a good one, and the picture on it is from an English story; PERFORMANCE OF THE "ENTFÜHRUNG," JULY, 1782. the watch ribbons are not very valuable, but they are high fashion here just now." He did not buy either of them, he adds for his father's consolation, but was presented with them by Count Szapary. To his sister also he sent different bits of finery, and begged her to intrust him with any commission in Vienna; he also testified the warmest sympathy in her love affairs. He did not forget his old Salzburg friends in Vienna—begs for news of them from his sister, "the walking register of Salzburg," and wished still to be considered as an active member of the quoit club.
During these manifold occupations the opera had still the first place in his thoughts, but it was at a standstill owing to the production of Gluck's two operas and the numerous alterations which were necessary in the libretto; he hoped that it would be ready for representation, however, directly after Easter. This was not the case, but on May 8 he writes: "Yesterday I was with the Countess Thun, and ran over the second act for her; she is as pleased with it as she was with the first"; and on May 29: "Next Monday is to be the first rehearsal; I must admit that I am delighted with this opera."
And he had good cause to be so, for its ultimate success was assured. But he had to fight against strong cabals, and it needed the express command of the Emperor to bring the opera to performance on July 13. High as had been the expectations of the public, they were fully justified by the result. "The house was crammed full, there was no end to the applause and cheering, and performances followed one another in quick succession."[ 53 ] After having given his father a short account of the first performance, he reports more fully on the second (July 20, 1782):—
Yesterday my opera was given for the second time. Can you believe that the opposition was even stronger than on the first evening? The whole of the first act was drowned, but they could not prevent the bravos after every song. My hope was in the closing terzet, but FIRST ATTEMPTS IN VIENNA. Fischer had been rendered nervous, and went wrong, as did Dauer, and Adamberger alone could not put things right; so that the whole effect was lost; and this time it was not encored. I was beside myself with rage, and so was Adamberger; we agreed that the opera should not be given again without a rehearsal for the singers. In the second act the two duets were encored, and also Belmonte's rondo, "Wenn der Freude Thranen fliessen," &c. The theatre was almost more crowded than on the first performance; the day before not a seat was to be had either on the noble parterre or in the third story, and not a single box. The opera has brought twelve hundred florins in the two days.
In the next letter (July 27, 1782), he continues:—
My opera was given yesterday (St. Ann's day) in honour of all Nannerls, for the third time, and the theatre, in spite of the stifling heat, was again crammed full. It was to have been played again next Friday, but I have protested, for I do not want it to be run to death. People are quite foolish about the opera, I must say. But it does one good to receive such applause.
Notwithstanding this, it was given again on July 30, and also on the Friday, and the theatre "swarmed with people in every part."
Mozart was busily employed in arranging his opera for harmony (wind) music, when he received a commission from the Haffner family in Salzburg (Vol. I., p. 153) to compose a new serenata. L. Mozart had first been applied to, and he thought it becoming that Wolfgang should lighten his father's labours by undertaking a work which cost him no exertion, and would be of direct advantage to his father. He therefore begged him to write a serenata without delay, for the time was approaching when it was to be performed. Wolfgang was quite ready to consent, inconvenient as it might be to him (July 20, 1782):—
I have certainly enough to do, for by Sunday week my opera must be arranged for wind instruments, or some one else will get the start of me, and reap the profit; and now I have to write a new symphony! I hardly see how it will be possible. You would not believe how difficult it is to arrange a work like this for harmony, so that it may preserve its effects, and yet be suitable for wind instruments. Well, I must give up my nights to it, for it cannot be done any other way; and to you, my dear father, they shall be devoted. You shall certainly receive something every post-day, and I will work as quickly as I can, and as well as I can compatibly with such haste.
He kept his word, although not quite so soon as he himself wished. In his next letter he writes (July 27, 1782):—
You will make a wry face when you see only the first allegro; but it could not be helped, for I was called upon to compose a serenade in great haste—but only for wind instruments, or else I could have used it for you. On Wednesday, the 31st, I will send the two minuets, the andante, and the last movement: if I can I will send a march also; if not, you must take that belonging to the Haffner music, which is very little known (249 K.). I have written it in D, because you prefer it.
But the serenata was not ready within the next few days, for he says in his letter of July 31:—
You see that my will is good, but if one cannot do a thing—why one cannot! I cannot slur over anything, so it will be next post-day before I can send you the whole symphony.
A week later he wrote (August 7, 1782):—
Herewith I send you a short march (probably 445 K.). I hope all will arrive in good time, and that you will find it to your taste. The first allegro must be fiery, and the last as quick as possible.
Six months later, when he had this symphony sent back to him for performance at one of his concerts, he wrote to his father (February 15,1783): "The new Haffner symphony has quite astonished me, for I did not remember a word of it, and it must be very effective." These little incidents show us the true Mozart, in his good-nature and readiness to oblige his father, and in his power of productiveness and elasticity of mind; he excuses himself for not having the symphony ready in a fortnight—and that at a time when not only his opera, but also his courtship and marriage were filling his head and his heart—and then he is astonished at himself for having done the thing so well.[ 54 ] The serenata which was thus composed is the lovely one in C minor (388 K.).
Meanwhile the opera pursued its successful course; in the FIRST ATTEMPTS IN VIENNA. course of the year it was performed sixteen times; and in the beginning of October, when the Archduke and his wife returned to Vienna, on their homeward journey, the "Entführung" was given in their honour, "on which occasion I thought it as well to sit at the piano again and conduct," he writes to his father (October 19, 1782), "partly to wake up the somewhat slumbering energies of the orchestra, partly to show the great people present that I am the father of my offspring." Kaiser Joseph had attained the object of his ambition; the German opera was established; but he scarcely seemed to appreciate the importance of the movement thus set on foot. His criticism on the "Entführung"—"Too fine for our ears, and an immense number of notes, my dear Mozart!" (referring, no doubt, to the accompaniment, which was also found fault with by Dittersdorf as overpowering the voices)[ 55 ]—is indicative of his taste. Mozart's spirited answer, "Just as many notes, your majesty, as are necessary," was worthy of an artist.[ 56 ] Generally speaking, the opera received unmitigated praise. Prince Kaunitz, an accomplished amateur and passionate friend of the theatre,[ 57 ] sent for the young composer, received him in the most flattering manner, and remained henceforth his friend and patron. The veteran Gluck, the most distinguished person in the musical world, expressed a desire to hear the opera which was making so much sensation; it was performed at his request, as Mozart writes to his father (August 7, 1782), although it had been given only a few days before; he paid the composer many compliments on it, and invited him to dinner.
The opera had decided Mozart's musical position in Vienna;[ 58 ] it speedily caused his fame to spread throughout Germany. The Prussian minister, Baron Riedesel—the SUCCESS OF THE ENTFÜHRUNG. well-known traveller and friend of Winckelmann—begged Mozart for a copy of the score for performance in Berlin, for which he was to receive suitable remuneration. This was the more flattering, since André's version of the "Entführung" had been well received in Berlin only the year before. Mozart had sent the original score to his father immediately after the first performance, that he might become acquainted with the composition before seeing the opera, which he was not to do until the end of 1784, in Salzburg:—
I have just promised to have it copied. As I have not got the opera I am obliged to borrow it from the copyist, which is very inconvenient, since I never can keep it three days together; the Emperor continually sends for it, as he did yesterday, and it is so often performed; it has been performed ten times since August 16. My idea was, therefore, to have it copied in Salzburg, where it can be done more secretly and cheaper.
The father, who watched his son's proceedings with jealousy and suspicion, thought he detected something underhand in the objection to have the copying done in Vienna. He had reminded his son, ä propos of "Idomeneo," that the score should remain the property of the composer (Vol. II., p. 141); and he now cautioned him as to whether he had the right to dispose of the score, would it not cause unpleasantness in Vienna, and that for the sake of an uncertain verbal promise of payment.
To this Wolfgang answered (October 5, 1782):—
I waited on the Baron von Riedesel myself; he is a charming man, and I promised him (in the belief that the opera was already in the hands of the copyist) that he should have it at the end of this month, or at the latest at the beginning of November. I must beg you to take care that I have it by that time. To relieve you of all anxiety, which I thankfully acknowledge as a proof of your fatherly love, I cannot say anything more convincing than that I am under great obligation to the Baron for having asked me for the opera, instead of going direct to the copyist (as is the custom in Italy), who would have given it to him directly for ready money; and besides this, I should have been very sorry if my talent could be paid for in that way—especially by a hundred ducats![ 59 ] This time (because there is no occasion) I shall say nothing FIRST ATTEMPTS IN VIENNA. about it; if it is performed, as it is certain to be (and that is what pleases me most about it), it will be known soon enough, and my enemies will have no excuse for ridiculing me, and treating me as a poor fellow: they will be quite ready to ask me for another opera if I will write it, but I do not know that I shall; certainly not if I am to be paid one hundred ducats, and see the theatre make four times that sum in a fortnight.
I shall bring out my next opera at my own expense, make at least twelve hundred florins in three representations, and then the management may have it for fifty ducats. If not, I shall be paid, and can produce it anywhere. Meanwhile I hope you will never find in me the least trace of any evil intentions. I would fain not be a bad fellow, but I do not want to be a stupid one who lets other people reap the advantage of his labour and study, and gives up his rightful claim to his own works.
The father's distrustful prudence prevented his putting the work in hand at once, and such haste was then necessary that no copyist in Salzburg would undertake it; Mozart had no resource but to explain the cause of the delay to the ambassador. But in the end the score was copied in Salzburg. The "Entführung" was performed the following year at Prague with extraordinary success.[ 60 ] "I cannot describe the applause and sensation which it excited at Vienna from my own observation," says Niemetschek; "but I was a witness of the enthusiasm with which it was received at Prague by connoisseurs and non-connoisseurs. It made what one had hitherto heard and known appear not to be music at all! Every one was transported—amazed at the novel harmonies, and at the original passages for the wind instruments." It was given at Leipzig in 1783;[ 61 ] at Mannheim,[ 62 ] Salzburg, and Schwedt in 1784;[ 63 ] at Cassel in 1785;[ 64 ] at Berlin not until 1788.[ 65 ] The applause was great on all occasions, and very soon the smaller stages sought to master the favourite piece. The actor Philipp Hasenhuth used to relate how the theatrical manager PERFORMANCES OF THE "ENTFÜHRUNG". Wilhelm, at Baden,[ 66 ] in 1783 or 1784, undertook the production of the "Entführung" with a very weak company. At the rehearsal of the quartet there was no tenor-player; Hasenhuth, who had just begun to learn the violin, and hardly knew one string from another, was put down to the tenor. A little man who had come in as a spectator sat down by him, and when he saw the deficiency, seized a viola and they played together. But the little man soon showed his impatience of his stumbling neighbour, and giving vent to his anger more and more plainly as the quartet proceeded, he ended by flinging away the viola, exclaiming, "The man is a veritable donkey!" (Der Herr ist ein wahrer Krautesel!), and running out of the room. The opera, however, was a great success; and the well-satisfied manager gave his company a farewell supper, to which, hearing that Mozart was in Baden, he invited the composer. Hasenhuth was astonished to recognise in him the tenor-player at the rehearsal, but Mozart relieved him from all awkwardness by saying good-humouredly, "I was somewhat impolite when we last met, but I did not know who you were, and the devil himself could not have stood the wrong notes!" The judgment of contemporary critics of the opera was almost unanimously of accord with that of the public.[ 67 ]
It is not probable that Mozart obtained any share of the rich profits which accrued from the production of his opera on these various stages. He was even cheated out of the production of a clavier score. "Now it has come to pass exactly as I foretold to my son," wrote L. Mozart to his daughter (December 16, 1785); "the 'Entführung aus dem Serail' has appeared in clavier score at Augsburg, and has also been printed at Mayence. Since March, when he began it, my son has not found time to finish it. He has lost his time, and Torricella (who was to publish it at Vienna) his profits."[ 68 ]