which Haydn liked so much that it is presented twice, the second time slightly embellished. The Exposition closes with the conventional insistence upon a strong cadence in the key of the second theme. The Development begins with some rather fragmentary treatment of the first theme; then, after some fugitive modulation into flat keys, contents itself with running passages and a series of iterated notes. Of organic and sustained development, such as Haydn indeed sometimes attained, there is little trace. Even so we must be chary of sweeping condemnation; for there are well-planned dynamic contrasts and the instruments are used in such a natural way—especially the figure in the double basses (measures 149-153)—that the scene is one of animation, though perhaps no more than one of aimless gambols. There is sufficient modulation, so that the principle of Plurality of key is carried out. We are suddenly but gracefully led back, in measure 155, to the repetition of the first theme, thus beginning the Recapitulation. This portion, with certain abbreviations, is an almost exact duplication of the first part and emphasizes the main tonality of G major. That Haydn was not forced to this literal repetition through any lack of fancy is shown by the skilful amplification of the first theme, in measures 177-184. The whole movement sparkles with sunshine; and those ponderous "heavy-weights" who criticise it because it is not deep or "soulful" are looking for qualities which the music does not pretend to contain. It is the work of a wholesome, cheerful-hearted man expressing through his favorite language his joy in life. In listening to the music we have the same delight as in wandering by the side of a rippling brook. The three remaining movements of the Symphony require little comment; being readily accessible they are not given in the Supplement. The second movement, a set of stereotyped variations, contains the explosive chord which gave to the work its descriptive title. Needless to say that this chord does not "surprise" our modern ears to any great extent. The Minuet is one of Haydn's best—full of queer antics in rhythm and modulation. The Finale (Allegro di molto), in the Rondo Sonata form, is the acme of Haydn's vivacity and is a "tour de force" of brilliant writing for the strings. In many passages they seem fairly to burn.
Haydn's position in the development of music is of the first importance. Whatever his works may "mean," they contain a rhythmic vitality which will keep them alive for ever, and their "child-like cheerfulness and drollery" will charm away care and sorrow as long as the world shall last.
CHAPTER X
MOZART. THE PERFECTION OF CLASSIC
STRUCTURE AND STYLE
ALTHOUGH Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus[120] (1756-1791), was, in regard to art problems, no more of a broad thinker than Haydn (Mozart and Schubert being pre-eminently men whose whole nature centered in music), yet on hearing his works we are aware that aspects of form and content have certainly changed for the better. In the first place he was more highly gifted than Haydn; he had from his infancy the advantage of a broad cosmopolitan experience, and he was dimly conscious of the expanding possibilities of musical expression. It is a perfectly fair distinction to consider Haydn an able, even brilliant prose-writer, and Mozart a poet. Haydn we can account for, but Mozart is the genius "born, not made"—defying classification—and his inspired works seem to fall straight from the blue of Heaven. Whereas Haydn, Beethoven and Schubert were all of very lowly parentage[121] (their mothers being cooks—a blessing on their heads!), Mozart's father and mother were people of considerable general cultivation, and in particular the father, Leopold Mozart, was an educated man and somewhat of a composer himself, who since 1743 had been in the service of the Archbishop of Salzburg, as director of his private orchestra. An excellent violinist, he had written and published a treatise on violin playing, which for many years was the standard work on the subject. Both parents were noted for their good looks, were, moreover, of strong character and highly respectable in every way. Among their several children two early exhibited unusual precocity—Maria Anna, born in 1751, and Wolfgang, still more highly gifted. The stories of the boy's skill and general delicacy of perception may be exaggerated, but we have sufficient valid evidence to convince us that he was a phenomenon absolutely "sui generis." Thus, he began to improvise between three and four, actually to compose little pieces (which we have), when he was five, and to perform in public when he was six! In that very year and continuing for nineteen years (until Mozart had reached the age of twenty-five) began the memorable series of concert tours—eleven in all—comprising Vienna, all the chief cities of Italy and Germany, even Paris and London. These tours the father planned and carried through with the utmost solicitude and self-sacrifice—not to exploit the talented children, but to give them a comprehensive education and artistic experience, and eventually to secure for his son some distinguished post worthy his abilities. It is quite impossible to rehearse all the details of these trips. For one who wishes to investigate for himself they truly make fascinating reading. A single incident, however, will show how clearly defined were the two personalities which made up the complete Mozart; and of which one or the other was in the ascendant throughout his life. As a man, Mozart was light-hearted, witty—even volatile—fond of society, dancing, and a good time generally; not of the strongest intellectual power, judged by modern standards, but, as shown by his marvellous dramatic insight, by no means the debonair light-weight he is often represented. Yet whenever music was under consideration he was a changed being; he became instantly serious, and would suffer no disrespect to himself or to his art. During the last sad years of his career in Vienna, when he was in actual want for the bare necessities of life, a publisher once said to him, "Write in a more popular style, or I will not print a note of your music or give you a kreutzer." "Then, my good sir," replied Mozart, "I have only to resign myself and die of hunger."
In Mozart's works, in distinction from the unconscious, naïve folk-song type of Haydn, we find highly wrought instrumental melodies; although such was his inborn spontaneity of expression that we are never aware of the labor expended. His works are quite as clear as those of Haydn, but they show a more conscious individuality of style. They are not so artless, and the phraseology is more elastic—less cut and dried. There is a higher imaginative vitality; trite, mechanical repetitions are in general avoided, climaxes are led up to in a more subtle manner, and a great gain is made in real organic development. For Mozart, as a master of polyphonic treatment, is second only to Bach. The most striking single feature in his work is the ceaseless flow of expressive melody, notably those wondrous tunes found in his operas, such as "Voi che sapete," "Batti, batti" and numerous others. He had travelled so widely, so keen was his power of assimilation that his melodic style embodied and enhanced the best qualities of contemporary Italian, French and German practice. And yet his innate genius was of sufficient strength to achieve this result without lapsing into formal eclecticism. Whatever suggestions he took he made wholly his own; and his music is nothing if not individual in its inimitable charm and freshness. Whereas Haydn's music often smacks too prominently of the soil, with Mozart we have the fine flower of a broad artistic culture. In his best symphonies and string quartets the art of music made a distinct advance and began to be capable of expressing the universal emotions and aspirations of mankind.
The reactive influence—each upon the other—of Haydn (1732-1809) and Mozart (1756-1791) is a most interesting feature of the period.[122] By the time Mozart was ripe for his best work Haydn had formulated and exemplified the main lines of instrumental structure. From this preparatory work Mozart reaped such an advantage that in his last compositions there is a spontaneous flowering of genius—a union of individual content with perfect clarity of style—which has kept them alive to this day. Haydn's last symphonies, the two Salomon sets composed for his London tours, show in their turn abundant signs of the stimulating influence of the younger man. The perennial importance of form and style cannot be better understood than by recognizing the fact that both Tchaikowsky and Richard Strauss, two of the most fearlessly independent of modern composers, have considered Mozart as their ideal. But even if in Mozart's best works we are not beyond the preponderating influence of form over substance, they must be judged on their own intrinsic merits and not with reference to progress made since—of which, nevertheless, they were an important foundation. His technique was quite sufficient to express what he had to say. We seldom feel that the contents are bursting through the form, that the spirit is too great for the body. Purity of conception and faultlessness of workmanship were still the desiderata of music. The world had to wait for a Beethoven before the hearer should be shaken out of himself by a spiritual power, of which the music at best was often an inadequate expression. This statement is meant to contain no disparagement. Because Beethoven was more elemental we must never belittle the genius of his predecessor. Any familiarity with Mozart's works will convince us of the gratitude we owe him for his original harmonies, for the stimulating contrapuntal texture and for the perfect finish and care for detail found therein. Could we be forever content with "abstract music"—that which justifies itself by a fulfilment of its own inherent laws—Mozart's music would remain the acme of the art. His fame to-day rests upon his string quartets, his three principal symphonies, and—above all—the operas, of which Don Giovanni and the Marriage of Figaro are noted examples. For consummate character-drawing (so that, as Rubinstein remarks, "Each acting personage has become an immortal type"), for interest sustained by unflagging musical vitality, for a combination of humor and seriousness and for ingenious and characteristic handling of the orchestral forces, these works were unequalled until the advent of Wagner and even to-day in their own field remain unsurpassed. The real charm of Mozart—that sunny radiance, at times shot through with a haunting pathos—eludes verbal description. As well attempt to put into words the fragrance and charm of a violet. Hazlitt's fine phrase, apropos of performance, says much in a few words. "Mozart's music seems to come from the air and should return to it," and the ecstatic eulogy of Goethe, to whom genius meant Mozart, should be familiar to all. "What else is genius than that productive power through which deeds arise, worthy of standing in the presence of God and of Nature, and which, for this reason, bear results and are lasting? All the creations of Mozart are of this class; within them there is a generative force which is transplanted from age to age, and is not likely soon to be exhausted or devoured."
In studying Mozart's works the special points to be noticed are these: the wider sweep and freer rhythmic variety of the melodic curve; the more organic fusion of the different portions of a movement—Mozart's lines of demarcation being perfectly clear but not so rigid as in Haydn; the much greater richness of the whole musical fabric, due to Mozart's marvellous skill in polyphony. The time had not yet come when the composer could pique the fancy of the hearer by unexpected structural devices or even lead him off on a false trail as was so often done by Beethoven. Both Haydn and Mozart are homophonic composers, i.e., the outpouring of individual melodies is the chief factor in their works; but whereas in Haydn the tune is almost invariably in the upper voice, in Mozart we find the melody appearing in any one of the voices and often accompanied with fascinating imitations. See, in corroboration, any of the first three movements of the G minor Symphony or the slow movement of the E-flat major Symphony. In the structure of music Mozart made slight changes; the forms were still fresh—having just been established by Haydn—and Mozart with his genius filled them to overflowing. His one important contribution to the development of instrumental form was the Pianoforte Concerto; but, as a consideration of this would lead us too far afield, the student is referred to the life of Mozart in Grove's Dictionary and to the Oxford History, Vol. V. The literature[123] about Mozart and his works is voluminous. Our chief attention nevertheless should be centered on the works themselves rather than on what anyone else writes about them. Certain of these criticisms, however, are so suggestive and illuminating that the student should become familiar with them.
As illustrations[124] for comment we select the F major Sonata for Pianoforte, the G minor Symphony, the Magic Flute Overture for Orchestra and the little known but most characteristic Adagio in B minor for Pianoforte. Here again, as in the case of Haydn, we must regret that it is impracticable to give examples from the chamber music: the String Quartets, the Quintet in G minor or from the entrancing Clarinet Quintet. Any familiarity with Mozart's genius is very incomplete which does not comprise the C major Quartet, especially its heavenly Andante Cantabile; likewise the E-flat major Quartet in the slow movement of which are the following poignant dissonances—a striking anticipation of Tristan and Isolde.