As you go walking down a street in Salzburg, chances are I that you will hear someone whistling Mozart, Many of the composer's tunes, have come to rest in private musical treasuries here.
In his brief life-1756 to 1791-Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart fathered a staggering 626 compositions. These encompass songs, dances and sonatas, church music and concertos, some 50 symphonies and 19 operas, among them such beloved classics as The Marriage of Figaro, Don Giovanni, The Magic Flute. Most of his myriad melodies reflect a zest for life that saw him through his many disappointments, to ebb only towards the end of his days.
Mozart's genius bubbled ceaselessly. He composed one famous number during a bowling match, another at the billiard table. While traveling, he composed-or "speculated," as he called it-in the bumping mail coach. In a letter he talks of finishing an opera in a boarding house, "with a violinist upstairs, another below, a singing teacher next door and an oboist down the hall. Gives one ideas!"
In his brief life-1756 to 1791-Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart fathered a staggering 626 compositions. These encompass songs, dances and sonatas, church music and concertos, some 50 symphonies and 19 operas, among them such beloved classics as The Marriage of Figaro, Don Giovanni, The Magic Flute. Most of his myriad melodies reflect a zest for life that saw him through his many disappointments, to ebb only towards the end of his days.
Mozart's genius bubbled ceaselessly. He composed one famous number during a bowling match, another at the billiard table. While traveling, he composed-or "speculated," as he called it-in the bumping mail coach. In a letter he talks of finishing an opera in a boarding house, "with a violinist upstairs, another below, a singing teacher next door and an oboist down the hall. Gives one ideas!"
At Naples
Music Was In His Blood.
His father, Leopold, was choirmaster to the Archbishop of Salzburg. When Leopold gave music lessons to Wolfgang's older sister, Maria Anna, "Nannerl," the little boy watched eagerly, and with his tiny hands made triads sound on the harpsichord. At the age of five, he flawlessly played lengthy pieces and improvised short compositions. Overjoyed, Leopold decided to dedicate himself to the development of the child's talent.
In 1762, he took both Wolfgang and Nannerl to Vienna, the glittering hub of the rich Austrian Empire, where they were asked to play at the Imperial court for Emperor Francis I. Then they set out on a three-and-a-half year tour that made Wolfgang the most celebrated child in Europe. "The greatest prodigy that Europe, or even human nature, has to boast of," declared the London Public Advertiser, "is, without contradiction, the little German boy, Wolfgang Mozart."
Success did not rob Wolfgang of the reactions of a normal child. His delicate face dead serious when he played shone with childish glee when he was romping, and not a little mischief sat in those large hazel eyes. Every so often, as a British observer noted, the prodigy "Ran about the room with a stick between his legs by way of a horse."
His father, Leopold, was choirmaster to the Archbishop of Salzburg. When Leopold gave music lessons to Wolfgang's older sister, Maria Anna, "Nannerl," the little boy watched eagerly, and with his tiny hands made triads sound on the harpsichord. At the age of five, he flawlessly played lengthy pieces and improvised short compositions. Overjoyed, Leopold decided to dedicate himself to the development of the child's talent.
In 1762, he took both Wolfgang and Nannerl to Vienna, the glittering hub of the rich Austrian Empire, where they were asked to play at the Imperial court for Emperor Francis I. Then they set out on a three-and-a-half year tour that made Wolfgang the most celebrated child in Europe. "The greatest prodigy that Europe, or even human nature, has to boast of," declared the London Public Advertiser, "is, without contradiction, the little German boy, Wolfgang Mozart."
Success did not rob Wolfgang of the reactions of a normal child. His delicate face dead serious when he played shone with childish glee when he was romping, and not a little mischief sat in those large hazel eyes. Every so often, as a British observer noted, the prodigy "Ran about the room with a stick between his legs by way of a horse."
Mozart's house (on the right)
Beyond Compare.
By the time Leopold took Wolfgang to Italy, the land of music and musicians, the teenager's fame had gone before him. City after city surrendered to his genius. At Bologna, Wolfgang was made a member of the prestigious Philharmonic Academy-though years under the minimum age for admittance of 20! In Rome, Pope Clement XIV decorated him with the Order of the Golden Spur. At Milan, he produced his first major opera, Mithridates, composed so swiftly that his fingers hurt. The performance was repeated 20 times before full houses.
In those days, most promising young artistes looked for careers at one of Europe's princely courts. Returning to Salzburg, Wolfgang entered the Archbishop's service at the age of 16 as a court musician. But Salzburg, then a city of 16,000, was a half-rustic backwater where diamond-studded watches and applause were easier to get than an illustrious position. So Mozart headed for Mannheim-famed for its orchestra-performed at the palace, then kissed the local monarch's hand. "You played beyond compare," quoth the Count Palatine, and gave him yet another watch-Mozarfs fifth-but not a job.
In Mannheim, Wolfgang met the Weber family-Fridolin, a music-copyist, his wife Maria Cacilic and a bevy of artistic daughters. He fell in love with 15-year-old Aloysia, but at his news, Leopold exploded.
"Off with you to Paris," he sputtered in a hastily penned letter. "From there, a man's fame and name go out into the world." Tamely, the 22-year-old lover left for Paris-to capture neither fame or name. Once more, then, back to Salzburg and the Archbishop's bitter bread.
By the time Leopold took Wolfgang to Italy, the land of music and musicians, the teenager's fame had gone before him. City after city surrendered to his genius. At Bologna, Wolfgang was made a member of the prestigious Philharmonic Academy-though years under the minimum age for admittance of 20! In Rome, Pope Clement XIV decorated him with the Order of the Golden Spur. At Milan, he produced his first major opera, Mithridates, composed so swiftly that his fingers hurt. The performance was repeated 20 times before full houses.
In those days, most promising young artistes looked for careers at one of Europe's princely courts. Returning to Salzburg, Wolfgang entered the Archbishop's service at the age of 16 as a court musician. But Salzburg, then a city of 16,000, was a half-rustic backwater where diamond-studded watches and applause were easier to get than an illustrious position. So Mozart headed for Mannheim-famed for its orchestra-performed at the palace, then kissed the local monarch's hand. "You played beyond compare," quoth the Count Palatine, and gave him yet another watch-Mozarfs fifth-but not a job.
In Mannheim, Wolfgang met the Weber family-Fridolin, a music-copyist, his wife Maria Cacilic and a bevy of artistic daughters. He fell in love with 15-year-old Aloysia, but at his news, Leopold exploded.
"Off with you to Paris," he sputtered in a hastily penned letter. "From there, a man's fame and name go out into the world." Tamely, the 22-year-old lover left for Paris-to capture neither fame or name. Once more, then, back to Salzburg and the Archbishop's bitter bread.
Mrs. Mozart's Kitchen
A Devoted Husband.
Today, Salzburg is Mozartown. The whole city, with its dramatic cupolas and spires, seems to warble his name. Its musical academy is called the Mozarteum. An annual Mozart Week, and a key portion of its music festival feature the master's works. The house where he was born, now a museum, is daily thronged with tourists. His statue graces the main square. It is ironic that Wolfgang, in fact, hated Salzburg.
The reason was the pettiness of his employer, Archbishop Hieronymus Colloredo, who treated him as a flunkey. When eating meals at court, the boy sat between the valets and the cooks. For nine years he put up with this treatment, but in 1781, when Colloredo forbade him from giving concerts on his own in Vienna, Mozart left. He called on Count Arco, Colloredo's aide, and, after an exchange of insults, was literally kicked out of the room. The kick made him a free man-and a Viennese into the bargain.
To Mozart, music-mad Vienna was "a marvellous city, and, for my craft, the best place in the world." As luck would have it, the widowed Mother Weber and three of her daughters had settled in the capital. Aloysia had since married an actor, but her younger sister, Constanze, was still free, and Mozart, after a brief courtship, married her. Wolfgang was to be a devoted husband through their nine years of wedded life, which ended with his death. Of their six children, only two sons survived infancy.
Today, Salzburg is Mozartown. The whole city, with its dramatic cupolas and spires, seems to warble his name. Its musical academy is called the Mozarteum. An annual Mozart Week, and a key portion of its music festival feature the master's works. The house where he was born, now a museum, is daily thronged with tourists. His statue graces the main square. It is ironic that Wolfgang, in fact, hated Salzburg.
The reason was the pettiness of his employer, Archbishop Hieronymus Colloredo, who treated him as a flunkey. When eating meals at court, the boy sat between the valets and the cooks. For nine years he put up with this treatment, but in 1781, when Colloredo forbade him from giving concerts on his own in Vienna, Mozart left. He called on Count Arco, Colloredo's aide, and, after an exchange of insults, was literally kicked out of the room. The kick made him a free man-and a Viennese into the bargain.
To Mozart, music-mad Vienna was "a marvellous city, and, for my craft, the best place in the world." As luck would have it, the widowed Mother Weber and three of her daughters had settled in the capital. Aloysia had since married an actor, but her younger sister, Constanze, was still free, and Mozart, after a brief courtship, married her. Wolfgang was to be a devoted husband through their nine years of wedded life, which ended with his death. Of their six children, only two sons survived infancy.
Vienna was quick to lionize the newcomer. Mozart charged high fees for music lessons; his public concerts, at which he played his latest compositions, were all the rage. He had progressed from the traditional harpsichord to the still newfangled piano, with its sweeter sound. He played it with an almost superhuman touch, and salvos of applause, and cries of, "Bravo, Mozart!" rewarded him.
The gala opening of his light opera, The Abduction from the Harem, (or, Seraglio), before the Emperor in 1782 had established Mozart as a master. "Opera," he confessed, "is my joy and passion." During the next four years, he read some 100 librettos before he found the perfect vehicle for his next work-an adaptation by Lorenzo da Ponte of Beaumarchais' revolutionary play, The Marriage of Figaro. Mozart's racy tunes, cascading through the work from start to finish, brilliantly underscore the opera's "subversive" message that all men are created equal. Figaro was received with something like delirious joy in Prague, (then ruled from Vienna), and Mozart, visiting that city, found its entire population whistling, singing and dancing to the opera.
Idealistic Vision. Mozart was in his element. When Prague commissioned a new opera, he and da Ponte came up with a spine-chilling version of the old legend of Don Giovanni-the supermale who, having broken every moral law, gets his comeuppance in the end. Mozart took the unfinished score to Prague with him and wrote the overture during the night before the opening. Don Giovanni, another triumph, is today considered one of the greatest operas ever written.
Belief in the nobility of man and virtue's victory over evil animates much of Mozart's operatic work. He had joined the Freemasons, an idealistic brotherhood that was attracting many leading spirits of his generation. Scholars have pointed out a number of Masonic symbols in his last opera, The Magic Flute, while others see in it merely a pleasant fairy tale. However that may be, Mozart gave it some of the most exuberant, most joyous music he had yet created. The Magic Flute premiered on September 30,1791. By the end of October, the opera had been put on 24 times. Mozart was 35 years old.
He had some five more weeks to live.
The gala opening of his light opera, The Abduction from the Harem, (or, Seraglio), before the Emperor in 1782 had established Mozart as a master. "Opera," he confessed, "is my joy and passion." During the next four years, he read some 100 librettos before he found the perfect vehicle for his next work-an adaptation by Lorenzo da Ponte of Beaumarchais' revolutionary play, The Marriage of Figaro. Mozart's racy tunes, cascading through the work from start to finish, brilliantly underscore the opera's "subversive" message that all men are created equal. Figaro was received with something like delirious joy in Prague, (then ruled from Vienna), and Mozart, visiting that city, found its entire population whistling, singing and dancing to the opera.
Idealistic Vision. Mozart was in his element. When Prague commissioned a new opera, he and da Ponte came up with a spine-chilling version of the old legend of Don Giovanni-the supermale who, having broken every moral law, gets his comeuppance in the end. Mozart took the unfinished score to Prague with him and wrote the overture during the night before the opening. Don Giovanni, another triumph, is today considered one of the greatest operas ever written.
Belief in the nobility of man and virtue's victory over evil animates much of Mozart's operatic work. He had joined the Freemasons, an idealistic brotherhood that was attracting many leading spirits of his generation. Scholars have pointed out a number of Masonic symbols in his last opera, The Magic Flute, while others see in it merely a pleasant fairy tale. However that may be, Mozart gave it some of the most exuberant, most joyous music he had yet created. The Magic Flute premiered on September 30,1791. By the end of October, the opera had been put on 24 times. Mozart was 35 years old.
He had some five more weeks to live.
Everything seemed to go wrong towards the end of his life. True, even while working on the monumental score of Don Giovanni, Mozart could still toss off two admirable string quartets and the serenade, A Little Night Music, today one of his best-loved works. But the shouts of "Bravo, Mozart!" had died down. According to some experts, his three last symphonies-including the majestic Jupiter, composed in one creative burst in the hot summer of 1788-were not heard by the public in his lifetime. His Figaro, sweeping the continent, closed in Vienna after the ninth performance. Dim Giovanni, a runaway success in Prague and elsewhere, flopped in Vienna. Why?
Ironically, it was Arco, deliverer of that historic kick, who had warned Mozart of the fickleness of Vienna. "At first, one gets acclaim and money," he had said. "But after a few months the Viennese want something new again." Now, even the optimistic Mozart had to admit that he had lost his slender grip on public favour.
Immortal Melodies.
The Mozarts moved to cheaper quarters. We have 21 desperate, begging letters Mozart addressed to a rich Mason, Michael Puchberg, who gladly helped him with substantial loans. Nevertheless, the family of four was soon facing poverty.
Ironically, it was Arco, deliverer of that historic kick, who had warned Mozart of the fickleness of Vienna. "At first, one gets acclaim and money," he had said. "But after a few months the Viennese want something new again." Now, even the optimistic Mozart had to admit that he had lost his slender grip on public favour.
Immortal Melodies.
The Mozarts moved to cheaper quarters. We have 21 desperate, begging letters Mozart addressed to a rich Mason, Michael Puchberg, who gladly helped him with substantial loans. Nevertheless, the family of four was soon facing poverty.
In July 1791, a grey-clad stranger came to Mozart's door to commission, and prepay, a requiem-a sung Mass for the dead. Wolfgang began work on it by fits and starts, composing passages of great spiritual beauty. But his lifelong buoyancy had left him. He was pale, weak and feverish, subject to fainting spells and tormented by swellings of the joints. "I'm writing my own requiem," he said to Constanze. Partial paralysis forced him to leave the work unfinished.
Mozart was suffering from a recurrence of the rheumatic fever that had plagued him as a child. In an authoritive study of his final agony, Dr Carl Bar, a Swiss physician, concludes that Wolfgang's childhood travels "must have left the delicate boy with the makings of the illness to which he succumbed." When he died, he was given a third-class funeral-one step above a pauper's-in an unmarked grave in St Mark's cemetery, together with several other bodies.
Mozart was suffering from a recurrence of the rheumatic fever that had plagued him as a child. In an authoritive study of his final agony, Dr Carl Bar, a Swiss physician, concludes that Wolfgang's childhood travels "must have left the delicate boy with the makings of the illness to which he succumbed." When he died, he was given a third-class funeral-one step above a pauper's-in an unmarked grave in St Mark's cemetery, together with several other bodies.
Today, Mozart's immortal melodies echo around the globe. Many of them have been successfully adapted to Rock and Pop music, making new friends for the prolific composer and adding to his continuing contribution to the joy of living.
