Mozart

The Man and the Artist Revealed in His Own Words

Friedrich Kerst, Henry Krehbiel, Friedrich Kerst, Henry Krehbiel

• Publisher: Dover Publications
• Year: 2016
• Print ISBN: 9780486213163
• eBook ISBN: 9780486816340
• Topic: Media & Performing Arts
• Subtopic: Music Biographies

Mozart's adult life was an almost unbroken succession of artistic triumphs and personal disappointments. This collection of excerpts from his letters and from other writings offers a unique opportunity for firsthand insights into the great composer's life and personality.
In his own words (as compiled by Friedrich Kerst and translated into English by Henry Edward Krehbiel), Mozart communicates his optimisms and anticipations, his recurrent hopes for a post with a fixed income and suitable prestige; his frequent discouragements when these hopes went unfulfilled and pecuniary difficulties ensued; his unhappiness at Salzburg and his maltreatment at the hands of Archbishop Hieronymus; and the circumstances of his love affair with Aloysia Weber and his subsequent marriage to her sister, Constanze. In all, the book contains 255 observations on such subjects as opera, musical pedagogics, love and friendship, religion and morals, composers and performers, the value of hard work, self-respect and honor, travel, and other matters. Extensive annotations provide background for each excerpt.

CONCERNING THE OPERA

When he was twenty-two years old Mozart wrote to his father, “I am strongly filled with the desire to write an opera.” Often does he speak of this ambition. It was, in fact, his true and individual field as the symphony was that of Beethoven. He took counsel with his father by letter touching many details in his earlier operas, wherefore we are advised about their origin, and, what is more to the purpose, about Mozart’s fine aesthetic judgment. His four operatic masterpieces are imperishable, and a few words about them are in place, particularly since Mozart has left numerous and interesting comments on “Die Entführung aus dem Serail.” This first German opera he composed with the confessed purpose of substituting a work designed for the “national lyric stage” for the conventional and customary Italian opera. Despite its Hispano-Turkish color, the work is so ingenuous, so German in feeling, and above all so full of German humor, that the success was unexampled, and Mozart could write to his father: “The people are daft over my opera.” Here, at the very outset, Mozart’s humor, the golden one of all the gifts with which Mother Nature had endowed him, was called into play. With this work German comic opera took its beginning. As has been remarked, “although it has been imitated, it has never been surpassed in its musically comic effects.” The delightfully Falstaffian figure of Osmin, most ingeniously characterized in the music, will create merriment for all time, and the opera acquires a new, personal and peculiarly amiable charm from the fact that we are privileged to see in the love-joy of Belmont and Constanze an image of that of the young composer and his “Stanzerl.”

After “Die Entführung” (1782) came “Le Nozze di Figaro” (1786), “Don Giovanni” (1787), and “Die Zauberflöte” (1791). It would be a vain task to attempt to establish any internal relationship between these works. Mozart was not, like Wagner, a strong personality capable of devoting a full sum of vital force to the carrying out of a chosen and approved principle. As is generally the case with geniuses, he was a child; a child led by momentary conditions; moreover, a child of the rococo period. There is, therefore, no cause of wonderment in the fact that Italian texts are again used in “Le Nozze di Figaro” and “Don Giovanni,” and that another, but this time a complete German opera, does not appear until we reach “Die Zauberflöte.”

Nevertheless, it is possible to note a development towards a climax in the four operas respecting Mozart’s conception of the world. It has been denied that there is a single red thread in Mozart’s life-work. Nevertheless, our method of study will disclose to us an ever-growing view of human life, and a deeper and deeper glimpse into the emotional and intellectual life of man, his aims and destiny. From the almost commonplace conditions of “Die Entführung,” where a rascal sings in the best of humor of first beheading and then hanging a man, we reach a plane in “The Marriage of Figaro,” in which despite the refinement and mitigation of Beaumarchais’s indictment we feel the revolutionary breeze freshly blowing. In “Don Giovanni” we see the individual set up in opposition to God and the world, in order that he fulfil his destiny, or live out his life, as the popular phrase goes today. Here the tremendous tragedy which lies in the story has received a musical expression quite without parallel, notwithstanding the moderation exercised in the employment of means. In “Die Zauberflöte,” finally, we observe the clarification which follows the fermentation. Here we breathe the pure, clear atmosphere of heaven, the atmosphere within which he can live who has freed himself from selfish desire, thus gaining internal peace, and who recognizes his ego only in the happiness and welfare of others.

22. I have an unspeakable desire to compose another opera…. In Italy one can acquire more honor and credit with an opera than with a hundred concerts in Germany, and I am the happier because I can compose, which, after all, is my one joy and passion…. I am beside myself as soon as I hear anybody talk about an opera, sit in a theatre or hear singing.

Munich, October 11, 1777, to his father, reporting an expectation of making a position for himself in Italy.

23. I beg of you do your best that we may go to Italy. You know my greatest longing—to write operas. … Do not forget my wish to write operas! I am envious of every man who composes one; I could almost weep from chagrin whenever I hear or see an aria. But Italian, not German; seria, not buffa.

Mannheim, February 2, 1778, to his father. Mozart wanted to go with the Weber family (he was in love with Aloysia, his future sister-in-law) to Italy while his father was desirous that he should go to Paris.

24. I am strongly possessed by the desire to write an opera—French rather than German, but Italian rather than either German or French. Wendling’s associates are all of the opinion that my compositions would please extraordinarily in Paris. One thing is certain; I would not fear the test. As you know I am able to assimilate and imitate pretty much all styles of composition.

Mannheim, February 7, 1778, to his father. Wendling was a flautist in Mannheim.

25. I assure you that if I get a commission to compose an opera I shall not be frightened. True, the [French] language is of the devil’s own making, and I fully appreciate all the difficulties that composers have encountered; but I feel myself as capable of overcoming them as any other composer. Au contraire, when I convince myself that all is well with my opera, I feel as if my body were afire—my hands and feet tremble with desire to make the Frenchman value and fear the German. Why is no Frenchman ever commissioned to write a grand opera? Why must it always be a foreigner? In my case the most unendurable thing would be the singers. Well, I’m ready. I shall begin no dickerings, but if I am challenged I shall know how to defend myself. But I should prefer to get along without a duel; I do not like to fight with dwarfs.

Paris, July 31, 1778, to his father.

26. Do you imagine that I would write an opéra comique in the same manner as an opera seria? There must be as little learning and seriousness in an opera buffa as there must be much of these elements in an opera seria; but all the more of playfulness and merriment. I am not responsible for the fact that there is a desire also to hear comic music in an opera seria; the difference is sharply drawn here. I find that the buffoon has not been banished from music, and in this respect the French are right.

Vienna, June 16, 1781, to his father. Mozart draws the line of demarcation sharply between tragedy and comedy in opera. [“Shakespeare has taught us to accept an infusion of the comic element in plays of a serious cast; but Shakespeare was an innovator, a Romanticist, and, measured by old standards, his dramas are irregular. The Italians, who followed classic models, for a reason amply explained by the genesis of the art-form, rigorously excluded comedy from serious operas, except as intermezzi, until they hit upon a third classification, which they called opera semiseria, in which a serious subject was enlivened with comic episodes. Our dramatic tastes being grounded in Shakespeare, we should be inclined to put down ‘Don Giovanni’ as a musical tragedy; or, haunted by the Italian terminology, as opera semiseria; but Mozart calls it opera buffa, more in deference to the librettist’s work, I fancy, than his own.”—How to Listen to Music, page 221. H. E. K.]

27. In opera, willy-nilly, poetry must be the obedient daughter of music. Why do Italian operas please everywhere, even in Paris, as I have been a witness, despite the wretchedness of their librettos? Because in them music rules and compels us to forget everything else. All the more must an opera please in which the plot is well carried out, and the words are written simply for the sake of the music and not here and there to please some miserable rhyme, which, God knows, adds nothing to a theatrical representation but more often harms it. Verses are the most indispensable thing in music, but rhymes, for the sake of rhymes, the most injurious. Those who go to work so pedantically will assuredly come to grief along with the music. It were best if a good composer, who understands the stage, and is himself able to suggest something, and a clever poet could be united in one, like a phœnix. Again, one must not fear the applause of the unknowing.

Vienna, October 13, 1781, to his father. The utterance is notable as showing Mozart’s belief touching the relationship between text and music; he places himself in opposition to Gluck whose ideas were at a later day accepted by Wagner. [“It was my intention to confine music to its true dramatic province, of assisting poetical expression, and of augmenting the interest of the fable, without interrupting the action, or chilling it with useless and superfluous ornaments; for the office of music, when joined to poetry, seemed to me to resemble that of coloring in a correct and well disposed design, where the lights and shades only seem to animate the figures without altering the outline.”—Gluck in his dedication of “Alceste” to the Grand Duke of Tuscany. “The error in the genre of opera consists herein, that a means of expression (music) has been made the end, while the end of expression (the drama) has been made a means.”—Wagner, “Opera and Drama.” H. E. K.]

28. Nota bene, what has always seemed unnatural in an aria are the asides. In speech one can easily and quickly throw in a few words in an aside; but in an aria, in which the words must be repeated, the effect is bad.

Munich, November 8, 1780, to his father. Mozart had been invited to Munich to compose an opera, “Idomeneo, Re di Creta,” for the carnival of 1781. [In contradistinction to the observations touching poetry and music in the preceding paragraph, this remark shows that he nevertheless had a sense of dramatic propriety. He accepted the form as he found it, but protested against the things which stood in the way of its vitalization. H. E. K.]

29. The second duet will be cut out entirely—more for the good than the harm of the opera. You shall see for yourself, if you read over the scene, that it would be weakened and cooled by an aria or duet, which, moreover, would be extremely annoying to the other actors who would have to stand around with nothing to do; besides the magnanimous contest between Ilia and Idamante would become too long and therefore lose in value.

Munich, November 13, 1780, to his father. The reference is to the opera “Idomeneo.”

30. It will be better to write a recitative under which the instruments can do some good work; for in this scene, which is to be the best in the whole opera, there will be so much noise and confusion on the stage that an aria would cut but a sorry figure. Moreover there will be a thunder-storm which is not likely to cease out of respect for an aria, and the effect of a recitative between two choruses will be incomparably better.

Munich, November 15, to his father. Mozart was at work on “Idomeneo.”

31. Don’t you think that the speech of the subterranean voice is too long? Think it over, carefully. Imagine the scene on the stage. The voice must be terrifying—it must be impressive, one must believe it real. How can this be so if the speech is too long—the length itself convincing the listener of the fictitiousness of the scene? If the speech of the Ghost in “Hamlet” were not so long it would be more effective.

Vienna, November 29, 1780, to his father, who had made the following suggestions respecting the opera “Idomeneo.” “Idamante and Ilia have a short quarrel (near the close of the opera) in a few words of recitative which is interrupted by a subterranean noise, whereupon the oracle speaks also from the depths. The voice and the accompaniment must be moving, terrifying and most extraordinary; it ought to make a masterpiece of harmony.”

32. In a word: far-fetched or unusual words are always out of place in an agreeable aria; moreover, I should like to have the aria suggest only restfulness and satisfaction; and if it consisted of only one part I should still be satisfied—in fact, I should prefer to have it so.

Munich, December 5, 1780, to his father. “Idomeneo” is still the subject of discussion.

33. As to the matter of popularity, be unconcerned; there is music in my opera for all sorts of persons—but none for long ears.

Munich, December 16, 1780, to his father, who had expressed a fear that Mozart would not write down to the level of his public. [On December 11, his father had written: “I recommend you not to think in your work only of the musical public, but also of the unmusical. You know that there are a hundred ignorant people for every ten true connoisseurs; so do not forget what is called popular and tickle the long ears.” H. E. K.]

34. I have had a good deal of trouble with him about the quartet. The oftener I fancy it performed on the stage the more effective it seems to me; and it has pleased all who have heard it on the pianoforte. Raaff alone thinks it will make no effect. He said to me in private: “Non c’è da spianar la voce—it is too curt.” As if we should not speak more than we sing in a quartet! He has no understanding of such things. I said to him simply: “My dear friend, if I knew a single note which might be changed in this quartet I would change it at once; but I have not been so completely satisfied with anything in the opera as I am with this quartet; when you have heard it sung together you will talk differently. I have done my best to fit you with the two arias, will do it again with the third, and hope to succeed; but you must let the composer have his own way in trios and quartets.” Where-upon he was satisfied. Recently he was vexed because of one of the words in his best aria—rinvigorir and ringiovanir, particularly vienmi a rinvigorir—five i’s. It is true it is very unpleasant at the conclusion of an aria.

Munich, December 27, 1780, to his father. Raaff was the principal singer in the opera “Idomeneo,” which Mozart had been commissioned to write by the Elector for Munich. The observation shows how capable Mozart was of appreciating foreign criticism.

35. My head and hands are so full of the third act that it w...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title page
• Copyright
• Contents
• The Significance of Mozart
• Chips from the Workshop
• Concerning the Opera
• Musical Pedagogics
• Touching Musical Performances
• Expressions Critical
• Opinions Concerning Others
• Wolfgang, the German
• Self-Respect and Honor
• Strivings and Labors
• At Home and Abroad
• Love and Friendship
• Wordly Wisdom
• In Suffering
• Morals
• Religion