Wolfgang was aware of the difficulties which lay before him, especially with regard to the language and the vocalists, and expressed himself energetically on both points (July 9, 1778)
If I do get as far as writing an opera, I shall have trouble enough over it; that I do not mind, for I am used to it, if only this cursed French PROSPECTS OF AN OPERA, 1778. language were not so utterly opposed to music! It is truly miserable; German is divine in comparison. And then the vocalists, male and female! they have no right to the name, for they do not sing, but shriek and howl, and all from the nose and the throat.
In spite of all this, he was eager to set to work (July 31, 1778):—
I assure you that I shall be only too pleased if I do succeed in writing an opera. The language is the invention of the devil, that is true; and the same difficulties are before me that beset all composers; but I feel as well able as any one else to surmount them; in fact, when I tell myself that all goes well with my opera, I feel a fire within me, and my limbs tingle with the desire to make the French know, honour, and fear the German nation more.
In the meantime L. Mozart heard that at the very time when Noverre was interesting himself so warmly in Wolfgang's opera, he had engaged him to write the music for a ballet which was coming out (May 14, 1778). When, after a considerable lapse of time, the father inquired what had become of this ballet, and what he had made by it, Wolfgang had almost forgotten the subject (July 9, 1778):—
As to Noverre's ballet, I only wrote that perhaps he would be making a new one. He just wanted half a ballet, and for that I provided the music; that is, there were six pieces by other people in it, consisting of poor, miserable French songs; I did the overture and contredanses, altogether about twelve pieces. The ballet has been performed four times with great applause.[ 16 ] But now I mean to do nothing without being sure beforehand what I am to get for it, for this was only as a good turn to Noverre.
But such "good turns" were precisely what Noverre had in view. It suited him, as it did Le Gros, to have at command the services of a young artist eager to compose and ready to accept hope and patronage in lieu of payment, whose name it was not necessary to risk bringing before the public, since he was only employed as a stop-gap. But it would be a very different and far more serious thing for them to bring forward an original work, such as an opera, by this PARIS, 1778. same unknown young man. In case of failure the protectors would share the responsibilities of the protégé, while success would bring fame and profit to the latter alone. Nothing shows more clearly Mozart's unsuspecting nature than his explanation of the long delay of his libretto (July 9, 1778):—
It is always so with an opera. It is so hard to find a good poem; the old ones, which are the best, are not in the modern style, and the new ones are good for nothing; for poetry, which was the only thing the French had to be proud of, gets worse every day, and the poetry of the opera is just the part that must be good, for they do not understand the music. There are only two operas in aria which I could write—one in two acts, the other in three. The one in two acts is "Alexander and Roxane," but the poet who is writing it is still in the country. That in three acts is "Demofoonte" (by Metastasio), translated and mixed with choruses and dances, and specially arranged for the French theatre» and this I have not yet been able to see.
The father saw through it all more plainly, and cautioned Wolfgang, if he wanted to succeed with an opera in Paris, to make himself known beforehand (August 27, 1778):—
You must make a name for yourself. When did Gluck, when did Piccinni, when did all these people come forward? Gluck is not less than sixty, and it is twenty-six or twenty-seven years since he was first spoken of; and can you really imagine that the French public, or even the manager of the theatre, can be convinced of your powers of composition without having heard anything by you in their lives, or knowing you, except in your childhood as an excellent clavier-player and precocious genius? You must exert yourself, and make yourself known as a composer in every branch; make opportunities, and be indefatigable in making friends and in urging them on; wake them up when their energies slacken, and do not take for granted that they have done all they say they have. I should have written long ago to M. de Noverre if I had known his title and address.