Leopold realized that the hour had now struck for that long-projected
trip to Italy which he wished to take “before Wolfgangerl reached the
age and stature which would deprive his accomplishments of all that was
marvelous.” Plainly, it would not do to let the boy outgrow his
precocity. And so on December 13, 1769, father and son set out on an
adventure that was to resolve itself into three separate journeys to
what was, rightly or wrongly, esteemed as the home of music and of art
in general.
The youth was now ripe for Italy. The language he absorbed by second
nature, as it were. Everywhere he made valuable new friendships and came
across old acquaintances. In Milan he was commissioned to write an
_opera seria_ and the following October he composed _Mitridate Re di
Ponto_, which, produced on December 26, 1770, amid cries of “Viva il
Maestrino,” had twenty performances. In Bologna he greatly impressed the
aged _castrato_ Farinelli and the great Padre Martini, dean of Italian
musicians. At Naples he had to remove a ring from his finger upon
playing to convince the superstitious that it was not the real
explanation of his “magic” skill. In Rome, after a single hearing of the
Papal choir singing Allegri’s celebrated _Miserere_, which nobody was
allowed to copy under penalty of excommunication, he wrote it down from
memory and then listened to it a second time to make a few minor
corrections. The Pope bestowed on Wolfgang the Order of the Golden Spur,
which enabled him to sign his letters with the whimsical “Chevalier de
Mozart.” He was invited to undergo a difficult examination for
membership in the Philharmonic Academy of Bologna and passed it by
working out in an hour a problem that consisted of producing in the
“strict” church style an antiphon _Quaerite primum_. The real truth,
however, is that the authorities accepted him only _after_ they had
charitably “corrected” what he submitted. It was not long before the
Philharmonic Society of Verona likewise conferred membership upon
him—this time presumably without the preliminary of a test. Now “Maestro
di Cappella,” he was ordered to provide a serenata—_Ascanio in Alba_
(Wolfgang completed its fairly voluminous score in twelve days)—for the
impending marriage of Archduke Rudolf and the Princess Maria of Modena.
Leopold imagined his son “made” for life. But the boy’s music, for all
its charm and fluency, still wanted the unmistakably creative touch. The
tireless traveler, Dr. Burney, wrote a little later: “If I may judge of
the music which I have heard of his composition, in the orchestra, he is
one further instance of the early fruit being more extraordinary than
excellent.” And the composer Hasse believed that “young Mozart is
certainly a prodigy for his age. The father adores his son overmuch and
does all he can to spoil him; but I have so good an opinion of the
innate goodness of the boy that I hope that, despite his father’s
adulation, he will not allow himself to be spoiled.”
The pair went briefly to Salzburg in 1771 and started south again for
Milan, where _Ascanio in Alba_ was to be given in October. The work was
duly presented for the princely nuptials along with Hasse’s opera
_Ruggiero_, likewise commissioned for the festivities. According to the
father’s report, the youth’s _festa teatrale_ completely eclipsed the
work of the venerable master who, far from being jealous, is said to
have remarked, “This boy will throw us all into the shade.”
Scarcely were the travelers home once more than the kindly Archbishop
died. His successor was the former Bishop of Gurk, Hieronymus, Count of
Colloredo. Like many others, the Mozarts scented trouble, for Colloredo
was a hard-boiled bigot and in every respect the reverse of his
predecessor. He lives on in history principally as Mozart’s evil genius
and as the man who, in the end, was to fan Wolfgang’s detestation of
Salzburg to white heat and to drive him to open mutiny. Hieronymus knew
by a kind of intuition that his new subjects were not well disposed to
him so, in the words of a contemporary chronicler, “he despised them and
held himself aloof.” His rule, says Paumgartner, was something other
than the “ancient regime” of his forerunner, the musical highlights of
which had been Leopold Mozart, Ernst Eberlin, and Cajetan Adlgasser.
Colloredo was a revolutionary and a deadly foe of routine and sought to
put his ideas into force by sharpest disciplinary measures. His taste,
however, ran to the easy grace of Italian music; yet he did in his
chilly way at first look upon Wolfgang as a talent he might use for the
greater glory of his court. For his new master’s festive installation in
1772 the composer wrote a one-act serenata along the lines of his
_Ascanio_, entitled _Il Sogno di Scipione_, to a text by Metastasio,
adapted from Cicero. The score was a typical “occasional work” of
allegorical character. Far more important in the creative sense are at
least eight symphonies and four _divertimenti_, in all of which are
traces of the ripening genius shortly to emerge.
The third Italian visit differed in some ways from the earlier ones.
_Lucio Silla_, produced in Milan on December 26, 1772, was not acclaimed
as _Mitridate_ had been. Outwardly it was successful and enjoyed more
than twenty performances but did not hold the stage. To begin with, the
opera had an inferior libretto and Wolfgang, absorbing other musical
influences, was less concerned about catering meticulously to Italian
tastes. Moreover, he was no longer the child prodigy whose every action
was to be considered phenomenal. But the real reasons lay deeper. A
prophetic ear might have detected the vibrations of a “storm and stress”
period beginning to ferment in the spirit of the artist. Leopold made a
vain effort to secure his son a post at the Grand Ducal Court of
Tuscany, but Wolfgang received no more operatic commissions for Italy.
So early in March 1773, taking a last leave of that land, they returned
to Salzburg, where Leopold was angered to see Colloredo appoint an
Italian rather than a German to the position of conductor.
The elder Mozart now determined to try his luck in Vienna. After the
death in 1774 of Florian Gassmann, the court composer, Leopold hoped to
secure the appointment for Wolfgang and the two obtained an audience
with Maria Theresia, who, for all her graciousness, merely replaced
Gassmann by one Giuseppe Bonno. At the moment there was no opportunity
to earn anything in the capital; but the young man became acquainted
with something that, in the long run, was to prove even more rewarding.
This was the music of Joseph Haydn, whom he was not to meet personally
until later. The influence of Haydn on Mozart as of Mozart on Haydn was
to be incalculable from every standpoint.
On December 9, 1774, father and son were on a journey once more, this
time to Munich where the Bavarian Elector, Maximilian III, had
commissioned Wolfgang to write an opera for the following Carnival. It
was a _buffa_, _La Finta giardiniera_, and on January 14, 1775, the
composer wrote to his mother: “My opera went so well yesterday that I
find it impossible to describe the applause. In the first place the
theatre was so packed that many had to be turned away; after every aria
there was a wild tumult, with handclappings and shouts of ‘Viva
Maestro,’ which began again as soon as it ended!” And Christian Daniel
Schubart wrote in the _Teutsche Chronik_: “I heard an opera buffa by the
marvelous Mozart. The fires of genius lurk and dart in it. Yet this is
still not the sacred fire which rises to the gods in clouds of incense.
If Mozart does not become a hot-house plant he should be the greatest
composer who ever lived.”
_Il Re pastore_
However, Archbishop Colloredo was growing irritable over these continual
absences of his servants. He had not been able to refuse the request of
the Elector to permit the Mozarts to go to Munich but he at last wanted
his Vice-Kapellmeister and son back. Henceforth it was not going to be
so easy to obtain the great cleric’s leave to go wandering, whatever the
reason. So for the immediate future the impatient young genius settled
down to compose and to perform. A stream of works were put on paper in
1775 and 1776. Five violin concertos were written the first year. They
are the best known of Mozart’s concertos for that instrument and were
conceived, in the main, for the violinist Brunetti of the court
orchestra. With all their charm they still stand below the great clavier
concertos in grandeur and epoch-making qualities. Wolfgang did not
particularly enjoy the violin although his father exhorted him to
practice and told him that he could be the greatest violinist in Europe.
Another work in 1775 was _Il Re pastore_, a cross between opera and
cantata, to a poem by Metastasio composed for a visit to the Archbishop
of Archduke Maximilian. A score of sensitive loveliness, it is known
today chiefly for its tender soprano aria with violin solo, “L’amero,
saro costante.” Of the many other creations of this period we can only
mention in passing the six clavier sonatas for the Baron Dürnitz, the
innumerable variations, the serenades, _notturni_, _divertimenti_,
masses, offertories, organ sonatas, litanies, _graduales_; the stunning
clavier concertos for his own use, for the French pianist Mlle.
Jeunehomme, the Countess Lützow, and other high-placed local amateurs.
Last, but far from least, he composed the _Serenade_ (later transformed
into a symphony by the elimination of a movement or two) for the wealthy
Haffner family, of whom Sigmund Haffner, a merchant prince, was
Burgomaster of Salzburg.