ALTHOUGH in his earlier years Mozart's career had, as we have seen,
been hindered by the circumstances
{IDOMENEO.}
(126)
to which he was forced to succumb at
Salzburg, yet the severe discipline to which he was subjected must have
been in many respects useful during his period of education. Since his
return from his travels, however, his Salzburg surroundings were utterly
oppressive and distasteful to him. His time of training was over; what
he now required was freedom, work worthy of his powers, and the means of
producing all that he was able and willing to produce. But of all this
Salzburg could give nothing, and want of appreciation and mistrust, in
addition to external obstacles, almost caused Mozart to lose heart and
spirit, and throw up his post. His longing looks were naturally turned
in whatever direction deliverance might seem to lie, and he considered
it a fortunate circumstance when he was commissioned to write the opera
for the Carnival of 1781 at Munich. The interest he had excited in Karl
Theodor and his consort rendered it comparatively easy for Mozart's
friends among the court singers and musicians to direct the choice so
that it should fall on him; the Archbishop had promised leave of absence
too distinctly to be able to draw back, nor would his many obligations
to the Bavarian court have rendered a refusal possible. An entirely new
opera was desired on this occasion, and the Abbot Giambatt. Varesco,
who had been court chaplain at Salzburg since 1766, was commissioned
to write the libretto; he could take counsel with Mozart, who knew the
Munich company well, and by obeying his suggestions make the text quite
according to his mind, so that a work not unworthy of the brilliant fame
of the Munich Opera might be expected. When a translation of the text
was called for later, Mozart proposed his old friend Schachtner, who was
{CHARACTERS AND PLOT.}
(127)
employed to do it; and Leopold Mozart could write with some pride to
Breitkopf (August 10,1781): "It is remarkable that every part of
the work is by persons residing in Salzburg: the poetry by the
court chaplain, Abbate Varesco, the music by my son, and the German
translation by Herr Schachtner."
Varesco's "Idomeneo" was modelled on the opera "Idomenée," written by
Danchet and composed by Campra, first performed in 1712 and revived in
1731.[1]
The _dramatis personæ_ are as follows:--[See Page Images]
The plot is briefly as follows:--
Idomeneo, King of Crete, after the siege of Troy, has wandered a long
way from his home, where his son, Idamante, grown to man's estate during
his absence, awaits him in filial love. Electra, daughter of Agamemnon,
banished by the people of Argus on account of the matricide of Orestes,
has taken refuge with Idamante, and becomes deeply enamoured of him. But
Ilia, daughter of Priam, who, with other Trojan captives, has been sent
to Crete by Idomeneo, has conceived a passion for Idamante, which he
returns. At the opening of the opera we find Ilia struggling with her
love for the enemy of her fatherland (aria, 2). Idamante approaches her
joyfully. He has received tidings that his father's fleet is in
sight, and has sent his old confidant, Arbace, to bring more exact
intelligence. On this joyful day he gives freedom to all the Trojan
captives, and declares his love for Ilia, which she, although
reluctantly, rejects; whereupon he bewails himself in an aria (3). The
captive Trojans are led in and loosed from their fetters,
{IDOMENEO.}
(128)
giving occasion for a joyful chorus. Electra comes and expresses
dissatisfaction at the liberation of so many enemies. Then follows
Arbace with intelligence (which is mistaken) of the shipwreck of
Idomeneo. Idamante departs overwhelmed with grief. Electra remains
behind and gives vent to her jealousy and despair in a song (aria, 5).
The scene changes to the sea-coast, and the fleet of Idomeneo is
seen threatened by a storm, and driven on to the rocks, the mariners
lamenting and beseeching aid. Neptune appears and commands the winds
to depart. Idomeneo prays for his help, but the god casts threatening
glances on him, and disappears. The sea being calmed, Idomeneo lands and
declares that, during the storm, he has vowed to sacrifice to Neptune
the first person who shall meet him on shore. He trembles at the
rashness of his vow, and anxiously looks for the sacrifice he is to make
(aria, 6). Idamante enters, having sought solitude as ease to his grief.
He offers shelter to the stranger, whom he fails to recognise. In the
course of conversation it transpires that he is mourning for his father
Idomeneo. Whereupon Idomeneo makes himself known, but overcome by the
horror of his situation, he departs, forbidding Idamante to follow
him. The latter, ignorant of the cause, is inconsolable at his father's
rejection of his proffered love and services (aria, 8). An intermezzo
of suitable character follows the first act. The warriors of Idomeneo
disembark to a march (9), are welcomed by their wives and children, and
"express their joy in a grand figure-dance, ending with a chorus (10)."
At the beginning of the second act Idomeneo is in conversation with
Arbace. He communicates to him his fearful vow, from the fulfilment
of which he wishes to escape. Arbace represents to him that this is
impossible. But when he hears that Idamante is to be the sacrifice,
he counsels his being sent to a distant country, and that during his
banishment they should seek to appease the wrath of Neptune. Idomeneo
decides upon commanding Idamante to accompany Electra to Argos, and
there ascend the throne, and commissions Arbace to bid him prepare for
the journey. Arbace promises obedience (aria, 11), and departs. Ilia now
appears, expresses delight at Idomeneo's safety, and, while extolling
Idamante's goodness, declares her own gratitude and submission (aria,
12). Her warmth causes Idomeneo to suspect their love, and his grief and
confusion are thereby augmented (aria, 13). Electra, entering, thanks
him for his care. He leaves her alone, and she expresses her joy at the
fulfilment of her dearest wishes (aria, 14). The warriors assemble
in the harbour to the sound of a march (15). Electra appears with her
followers, the sea is calm, and all look forward to a fortunate voyage
(chorus, 16). Idomeneo dismisses Idamante, who sees in this command a
fresh proof of his father's inexplicable displeasure. They express
their opposing sentiments in a terzet (17). As they prepare to embark, a
terrific storm arises, and a huge sea-monster rises from the waves. This
convinces Idomeneo that his
{IDOMENEO--PLOT.}
(129)
disobedience has offended Neptune, and he determines to die himself, and
not to sacrifice the innocent. "The storm continues to rage, the Cretans
fly, and the act closes with the expression of their fear and horror by
singing and pantomimic dancing."
Ilia opens the third act, bewailing her unhappy love (aria, 19).
Idamante surprises her, and declares his resolve to seek death in
combat with the monster who is laying waste the land; this leads to a
disclosure of her love, and the two express their happiness in a duet
(20). Idomeneo, entering with Electra, discovers them; he cannot bring
himself to acknowledge to Idamante the true cause of his mysterious
behaviour, but commands him anew to leave Crete at once, and seek an
asylum in a distant land. The various emotions of those present are
expressed in a quartet (21). Idamante having departed, Arbace enters
and announces that the people are hurrying with the high priest at their
head to demand deliverance from the monster; Idomeneo goes to meet them,
and Arbace expresses his earnest wish for the happiness of his ruler
(aria, 22). On an open space in front of the castle the high priest
appears with the multitude; he describes the ravages of the monster,
which can only be terminated by the fulfilment of Idomeneo's vow, and
demands to know the name of the promised victim (23). When Idomeneo
names his son as the sacrifice, horror seizes the people (chorus, 24).
During a march (25) Idomeneo with his subjects enters the temple of
Neptune, and while the priests prepare for the sacrifice they offer
their solemn prayers to the god (26); cries of joy are heard from afar,
and Arbace hastens in and announces that Idamante has slain the
monster in heroic combat. Idamante is presently borne in by priests and
warriors, crowned and in white robes; he now knows his father's vow, and
satisfied as to his feelings towards him, he is ready to fall a joyful
sacrifice to the angry god (aria, 27). As Idomeneo is in the act of
striking the fatal blow, Ilia hastens in and restrains him; she insists
upon taking the place of her lover, and a tender strife arises between
them, which Idomeneo listens to with emotion, Electra with rage and
jealousy. As Ilia kneels before the altar, "a great subterranean
disturbance is heard, the statue of Neptune totters, the high priest
stands entranced before the altar, all are amazed and motionless from
fear, while a deep and majestic voice declares the will of the gods":
Idomeneo is to renounce the throne, which Idamante is to ascend, and to
be united to Ilia (28). At this unexpected issue, Electra breaks into
violent anger, and "goes off raging"; Idomeneo arranges everything
according to the divine will (30), and expresses his grateful joy (aria,
31); Idamante is crowned in a pantomimic ballet, during which the chorus
sing a joyful conclusion to the opera (32).[2]
{IDOMENEO.}
(130)
Varesco omitted the prologue of his original, and reduced the five acts
to the customary three. He also left out altogether the divinities and
allegorical personages, which were somewhat prominent in the French
text; and of three confidants he retained only Arbace. For the rest
he follows the progress of the plot pretty closely, only judiciously
omitting the love of Idomeneo for Ilia, and altering the conclusion. In
the original, Idomeneo, after voluntarily raising his son to the throne,
and bestowing on him the hand of Ilia, is stricken with madness by
Nemesis, and slays Idamante with the sacrificial axe. He is then
prevented from committing suicide, but Ilia falls by her own hand.
Metastasio had weaned Italian opera from such horrors. Varesco naturally
looked to opera seria as the foundation of his adaptation,[3] but he
endeavoured at the same time to make use of the distinctive features
of French opera. This is evident in his care for variety of scenery and
machinery, in the marches and processions which occur in every act,
and in the pantomimic dances which are made subservient to the plot.
Further, the frequent introduction of the chorus was evidently suggested
by French opera, and a marked progress displayed in the fact that the
chorus was not employed merely to heighten the pomp of the piece, but
took part in the action at critical moments, and expressed important
dramatic situations. The ensembles, too, are not placed in regular
succession at the end of the acts, without reference to the plot; they
occur naturally as the piece proceeds, and have a dramatic signification
of their own. Such movements are indeed rarely introduced, and not all
the suitable points are made use of for them; no attempt is made either
to unite the several connected points of the plot into a musical
whole in the finale, but rather each separate situation has its own
independent musical treatment.[4] On the other hand, there
{VARESCO'S LIBRETTO.}
(131)
is an evident intention to give the piece a tragic tone rather than
that of the then prevalent effeminate tenderness, and to invest the
characters with a psychological interest, and the plot with natural
development and climax. It must be admitted that the success is but
partial. Varesco was no poet, and the spirit of French tragedy was not
calculated to raise him to a higher sphere than that of Italian opera.
Conventionality predominates, passion and emotion find but unnatural
expression, pedantry and exaggeration, both alike untrue, jostle each
other; and the plot hangs on such slender threads that, in spite of the
strong passions which are set in motion, it awakens no lively interest.
The weak points both of French and Italian opera are here combined; but
there are other faults belonging more especially to the latter. Such,
for example, is the giving of the part of Idamante to a male soprano,
and employing the bass voice only for the subordinate part of the
Oracle. Idomeneo is tenor, according to traditional usage, and stands
almost alone against three soprano voices, for Arbaces as second tenor
acts only as a stop-gap, and the high priest only appears once in
an obbligato recitative. Generally speaking the airs do not form the
culminating point of a dramatic situation, but only close it with a
kind of point. Frequently they have only a commonplace phrase or an
elaborated image for their subject, and all their individuality is
bestowed upon them by the music. Varesco is nevertheless a practised
verse-maker, who has employed, not without skill, the materials he found
ready to hand, but is far removed from Metastasio's delicacy and grace.
With all its drawbacks the advantage of a settled tradition is very
visible, the external arrangements, such as the distribution among
the characters of the different pieces being carefully carried out.
In short, if "Idomeneo" is compared with Mozart's earlier operas, the
progress in the choice and treatment of material is very marked. Such an
absolute blending of the essential features of French and Italian opera
as is aimed at does not indeed take place; a compromise between the two
had first to be made. It can scarcely be doubted that Mozart had a share
in the construction of the libretto in its more important parts, and
that
{IDOMENEO.}
(132)
his experiences in Mannheim and Paris had qualified him for the task;
but his influence was not felt in the details of the work.
When the libretto was ready, and part of the music composed, Mozart
repaired to Munich, according to custom, to finish the opera on the
spot. After a journey in the postcarriage, "which shook the soul out of
one's body," and gave him not an instant's sleep, he wrote to his father
(November 8, 1780), "Joyful and glad was my arrival!" There was plenty
to be done: the opera was to be rehearsed, to be put on the stage, and
the greater part of it was still unwritten. How much of it he took with
him ready to Munich is not precisely known; probably the majority of
the recitatives, the first act, and perhaps part of the second; at all
events his first letters mention some of the songs as already composed.
He was able to set to work with a good heart, for he was met with
goodwill on all sides. Count Seeau was altogether at his service; and
when they sometimes fell out, and Mozart was provoked to be rude, it was
always the Count who gave way. The Elector received him very graciously.
"I had almost forgotten the best!" he writes (November 15, 1780); "Count
Seeau presented me _en passant_ to the Elector last Sunday, after mass;
he was very gracious, and said, 'I am glad to see you here again.' And
when I said that I would endeavour to deserve the approbation of his
highness, he patted me on the shoulder and said, 'Oh, I have no doubt
it will all go very well indeed.' _A piano piano si va lontano!_"
The nobility, too, were favourably disposed towards him. Cannabich
introduced him to the Countess Baumgarten, who was then the favourite
of the Elector. "My friend is everything in this house," he writes
(November 13, 1780), "and I, too, now; it is the best and most useful
house here for me, and so far all has gone, and by God's help will go,
well with me." He was able, therefore, to satisfy his father as to the
success of the opera (November 24, 1780): "Have no care as to my opera,
dear father; I hope there will be no hitch. A little cabal is opposed
to it, but it will certainly come to grief, for all the best and most
powerful houses
{THE MUNICH SINGERS.}
(133)
of the nobility are in my favour, as well as the principal musicians,
especially Cannabich."[5]
There was, at all events, no opposition to be feared on the part of
the singers or the orchestra; they and Mozart were mutually anxious to
satisfy each other. But their joint labours and the requirements of the
stage showed many alterations in the text to be necessary, and Varesco
must have been often appealed to to undertake these, or to sanction
proposed changes. Among the performers for whom he wrote, Dal Prato
gave him some real trouble. Soon after his arrival he had "a piece of
roguery" to narrate (November 8, 1780): "I have not indeed the honour
of knowing the heroic Dal Prato, but according to the description
Ceccarelli must be better than he; for sometimes his breath fails in the
middle of a song, and, _nota bene_, he was never on the stage, and Raaff
is like a statue. Now, you may imagine the scene in the first act, the
meeting of Idomeneo and Idamante." Further acquaintance with Dal Prato
justified the reports concerning him. "My _molto amato Castrato dal
Prato_," he writes (November 15,1780), "requires teaching the whole
opera"; "he has to learn his part like a child, and has not a pennyworth
of method" (November 22, 1780). He was the stumbling block also in the
quartet, which had to be rehearsed six times before it went right.
"The fellow can do nothing," complains Mozart (December 30, 1780); "his
voice would not be so bad if he did not sing in his throat and head, but
he is absolutely without intonation or method or sentiment, and sings
like the best among the boys who come to be heard when they seek
admission to a choir."
He had trouble of quite another kind with his "dear old friend" Raaff.
He was exceedingly fanciful, and Mozart made many alterations out of
love for him and consideration for his gray hairs (December 27, 1780):--
{IDOMENEO.}
(134)
Let me tell you that Raaff is the best and honestest man in the world,
but so wedded to his old jog-trot ideas that it is enough to drive one
crazy. Consequently it is very difficult to write for him; very easy,
too, I grant you, if one is content to write songs such as, for example,
the first, "Vedrommi intorno," &c. If you could only hear it--it is
good, and it is pretty; but if I had written it for Zonca I should have
made it much better fitted to the words. I had a good deal of trouble
with him about the quartet. The oftener I hear this quartet the more
effective it appears to me, and every one that has heard it likes it.
Only Raaff thinks it will be wanting in effect; he said to me, "Non c'
è da spianar la voce." As if there should not be more speaking than
singing in a quartet! But he knows nothing about these things. I only
said, "My dear friend! if there was only one note in this quartet that I
thought should be altered, I would do it; but I am better satisfied with
it than with any other piece in the opera, and when you have once heard
it together, you will alter your mind. I have done my best to please you
with your two songs, and so I will with the third, with good hopes of
succeeding; but as far as regards the terzets and quartets, the composer
should be allowed his own way." That satisfied him.
After the rehearsal Raaff "gladly acknowledged himself in the wrong, and
had no more doubt as to the good effect of the quartet" (December 30,
1780). When Mozart had "shown him the paces" of his first air, he was
quite satisfied with it (November 15, 1780); and equally so with the air
in the second act (December 1, 1780):--
He is as much in love with his song as a younger man might be with his
fair lady: he sings it at night before he goes to sleep, and in the
morning as soon as he wakes. He said to Baron Viereck and Herr von
Castel, "I have always been used to have a hand in my own part, in the
recitatives as well as the songs; but I have left this just as it was.
There is not a note that does not suit me exactly." _Enfin_, he is as
happy as a king over it.
Some ill-natured speeches were made in spite of all this, as Mozart
writes to his father (December 27, 1780):--
_À propos!_ Becke tells me that he wrote to you again after the last
rehearsal but one, and told you among other things that Raaffs song in
the second act is not written for the words. "They tell me," he said,
"that you know too little of Italian. Is it so?" "You should have asked
me, and then written! I can assure you that he who told you this knows
very little Italian himself." The song goes exceedingly well with the
words. One hears the "mare" and the "mare funesto;" and the
{THE MUNICH SINGERS.}
(135)
passages lead up to "minacciar" in a way that thoroughly expresses
"minacciar"--a threatening; in fact, it is the finest song in the opera,
and meets with universal approval.
The two other male vocalists belonged to the old Munich opera. "Honest
old Panzacchi" had been an excellent singer and a good actor in
his time, but his best days were over; and Valesi, too, who had a
well-deserved reputation as a tenor, had almost given up the stage, and
devoted himself to teaching. L. Mozart had reason, therefore, to write
(November 11,1780): "What you tell me of your vocalists is sad, and
shows that everything must depend on the composition."
There were no difficulties this time with the female vocalists. Both the
Wendlings were friendly and amenable--they went Mozart's way, and
were contented with everything he did. "Madame Dorothea Wendling is
_arci-contentissima_ with her scena, and wanted to hear it three times
over,', he wrote home (November 8,1780), and they were quite in accord
about the second song. "Lisel Wendling," he wrote soon after (November
15, 1780), "sang her two songs half-a-dozen times; she is thoroughly
pleased; I have it from a third person that both the Wendlings have
praised their songs very highly."
Mozart kept up with great industry the work of rehearsing and composing
(a song for Schikaneder was composed meanwhile, Vol. II., p. 102),
although he was suffering from a severe cold. The homely remedies
which his father ordered brought some alleviation of it, but, as he was
obliged to continue writing, the cure was a slow one.
At Munich he fell in with Mara, who had not long left Berlin. "She is
not so fortunate as to please me," he writes (November 13, 1780); "she
does too little to come up to the Bastardina (Vol. I., p. 112), which is
her ambition, and she does too much to touch the heart like a Weber, or
an expressive singer." He was even less edified by the behaviour of the
husband and wife than by Madame Mara's singing, and writes at a later
date (November 24,1780) of the "pride, insolence, and effrontery which
were visible in their countenances." When Mara was to sing at a court
concert, after the first symphony "i saw her lord and master creep
behind her with a violoncello in his hand; I thought it was going to be
{IDOMENEO.}
(136)
a song with obbligato violoncello. Old Danzi, a very good accompanist,
is first violoncellist here; all at once old Toeschi--conductor when
Cannabich is not there--said to Danzi, who is his son-in-law, by the
way, 'Stand up, and let Mara take your place.' But Cannabich heard him,
and cried, 'Danzi, stay where you are! The Elector likes his own people
to play.' And the song proceeded. Herr Mara stood meekly with his
violoncello in his hand behind his wife." The song which Mara was
singing had a second part, but she went out during the ritornello
without acquainting the orchestra, "with her native air of effrontery,"
and afterwards complained to the Elector.[6] He answered: "Madame, you
sang like an angel, although your husband did not accompany you," and
referred her to Count Seeau.
The first act was rehearsed at the end of November, and Mozart was able
to report to his father such success as raised the general expectation
to a still higher pitch (December 1, 1780):--
The rehearsal went off remarkably well. There were only six violins in
all, but the proper wind instruments. No spectators were admitted
but Seeau s sister and young Count Seinsheim. I cannot tell you how
delighted and astonished every one was. It was only what I expected, for
I assure you I went to this rehearsal with as light a heart as if it
had been a banquet. Count Seinsheim said to me: "I assure you I expected
much from you, but this I did not expect." The Cannabich family and all
who know them are true friends of mine. I went home with Cannabich after
the rehearsal. Madame Cannabich met us and embraced me, full of pleasure
that the rehearsal had gone off so well; then came Ramm and Lang half
out of their minds with delight. The good lady, my true friend, being
alone in the house with her sick Rose, had been full of anxiety for me.
Ramm said to me (if you knew him you would call him a true German, for
he says to your face exactly what he thinks): "You may believe me when
I say that no music ever made such an impression on me; and I thought
fifty times what a pleasure it will be to your father to hear this
opera." But enough of this! My cold was made rather worse by the
rehearsal. One cannot help getting overheated when fame and honour are
at stake, however cold-blooded one may naturally be.
{REHEARSALS.}
(137)
Wolfgang's father received other confirmation of the success, which he
did not withhold from his son:--
Fiala showed me a letter from Becke which is very eulogistic of the
music of your first act. He writes that tears of joy and pleasure came
to his eyes when he heard the music, and that every one declared it was
the finest music they had ever heard--all so new and beautiful, &c. He
says that the second act is about to be rehearsed, that he will write to
me himself, &c. Well, God be thanked, this all looks well.
L. Mozart, who had been wont to exhort Wolfgang not to procrastinate,
as indeed he often did at Salzburg, was now concerned to hear of his
obstinate cold, the more so as his sister was suffering from a chest
complaint, and he begs him to take care of himself; he was not to hurry
over the third act, it would be ready quite in good time. Ready, as he
always was, with good advice, he warns him to remember that an opera
should not only please connoisseurs (December 11, 1780): "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." But Wolfgang will not listen to this. "As
to what is called popular," he answers (December 16, 1780), "do not be
afraid, there is music in my opera for all sorts of people--only none
for long-ears." Meantime the work of rehearsing went steadily forward.
On December 16, in the afternoon, the first and second acts were
rehearsed at Count Seeau's, the parts being doubled, so that there
were twelve violins. All went well, as Wolfgang reported (December 19,
1780):--
The orchestra and all the audience gladly acknowledged that, contrary
to their expectations, the second act was superior both in novelty and
expression to the first. Next Saturday the second act is to be rehearsed
again, but in a large room in the palace, which I have long desired,
for the room at Count Seeau's is far too small. The Elector is to listen
_incognito_ in an adjoining apartment. "We must rehearse for dear life
then," said Cannabich to me. At the last rehearsal he was bathed in
perspiration. You will judge from my letters that I am well and hearty.
It is a great thing to come to the end of a great and laborious work,
and to feel that one leaves it with honour and fame; this I have almost
done, for now nothing is wanting but three songs, and the last chorus of
the third act, the overture and the ballet--"et adieu partie!"
{IDOMENEO.} (138)
The next rehearsal gave even greater satisfaction (December 27, 1780):--
The last rehearsal was splendid; it was in a large room in the palace,
and the Elector was present. This time we had the whole orchestra (that
belongs to the opera-house, of course). After the first act the Elector
said "Bravo!" out loud; and when I went to pay my respects to him, he
said, "This opera will be charming--it will certainly do you honour." As
he was not sure of being able to remain to the end, we let him hear the
concerted song, and the storm at the beginning of the second act. These
he also approved of in the most kindly manner, and said, laughing, "No
one would imagine that such great things could come out of such a little
head." The other day at his early reception, too, he praised my opera
very much.
In the evening at court the Elector again spoke in high praise of the
music, and Mozart learnt from a sure source that he had said after the
rehearsal, "I was quite taken by surprise--no music ever had such an
effect on me--it is truly magnificent."
The news of this success reached Salzburg bit by bit. "All the town is
talking of the excellence of your opera," his father tells him (December
25, 1780). "Baron Lerbach set it going; the chancellor s wife told me
that she had heard from him that the opera was wonderfully well spoken
of everywhere. Then came Becke's letter to Fiala, which he gave to
be read everywhere." Becke wrote to L. Mozart himself that "the storm
chorus in the second act is so powerful that none could hear it, even
in the greatest heat of summer, without turning as cold as ice;" and
he praises Dorothea Wendling's concerted song very much. The violinist
Esser from Mayence, who had given concerts in Salzburg, wrote from
Augsburg concerning the two acts of the opera which he had heard:
"Che abbia sentito una musica ottima e particolare, universalmente
applaudita." "In short," writes the father, "it would be tedious to tell
you all the compliments paid to you. I hope that the third act will have
as good an effect, and I do so the more confidently, since all the best
situations are here, and the subterranean voices must be startling and
terrifying.[7] I hope to be able to say, 'Finis coronat opus.'"
{REHEARSALS.}
(139)
To this his son answers, over head and ears in work (December 30, 1780):
"The third act will be thought _at least_ as good as the other two:
I like it infinitely better, and you may justly say, 'Finis coronat
opus.'" But there was plenty to do meantime. "Head and hands," he writes
(January 3,1781), "are full of the third act, so that I should not be
surprised if I were to turn into a third act myself; It alone has cost
me more trouble than the whole opera, for there is not a scene in it
that has not peculiar interest." He had the satisfaction of finding
after the rehearsal that it really was considered to surpass the other
two acts.
Mozart's anxious father strove to draw his attention to every point that
might contribute to success, and particularly cautioned him to keep
on good terms with the orchestra (December 25, 1780). Experience of
Salzburg must necessarily have shown him the importance of this:--
Try to keep your orchestra in good humour--flatter them, and make them
devoted to you by praising them; I know your way of writing, and the
unceasing and close attention it exacts from all the instruments; it is
no joke for the orchestra to be kept on the stretch of their attention
for three hours and more. Every one, even the worst fiddler, is touched
by being praised _tête-ä-tête_, and becomes more and more attentive and
zealous; and these courtesies cost you nothing but a few words. But
you know it all yourself; I only tell you because such things are often
forgotten at rehearsal, and you will need the friendship and zeal of
the whole orchestra when the opera is in scena. The position is then
altered, and the player's attention must be much more intent. You know
that they cannot all be friendly towards you. There is always a _but_
and an _if_ to be met with. You say people doubted whether the second
act would come up to the first. This doubt being relieved, few will have
misgivings for the third act. But I will wager my head that there will
be some who will doubt whether the music will be as effective in the
theatre as in a room; and in that case the greatest zeal and goodwill
are necessary on the part of the orchestra.
But the opera was not ready yet; there was to be no ballet, only
a divertissement fitting into the plot, and this Mozart was, as he
expressed it, to have the honour of composing (December 30, 1780). "I am
very glad of it," he adds, "for then the music will be by _one_ master."
He was
{IDOMENEO.}
(140)
hard at work at the "cursed dances" until the middle of January, and had
no time to think of anything else, not even of his own health. It was
not until January 18 that he could write: Laus Deo, at last I have
come to an end of it!" Amid rehearsals and anxious labours, the day of
representation drew near. L. Mozart had been concerned lest the death of
the Empress Maria Theresa on November 29, 1780, should put a stop to it,
but Wolfgang reassured him by saying that none of the theatres had been
closed on this account. Soon after he was terrified by a rumour that
the Electress was dangerously ill, but discovered this to be a "lie
from beginning to end." At first January 20, 1781, was fixed for the
performance, then the 22nd, and finally January 29; the last rehearsal
was to be on the 27th, Wolfgang's birthday; he was pleased at the
postponements: "The opera can be oftener and more carefully rehearsed."
The fame of "Idomeneo," which had reached Salzburg even before its
performance, was a great source of satisfaction to Mozart's friends;
Dr. Prexl, for instance (Vol. II., p. 84), wrote to him of the
"inexpressible satisfaction" with which he had learnt the honour done by
Wolfgang to Salzburg, and more than one friend undertook the journey
to Munich in order to be present; among these were Frau Robini and her
family, two Fräulein Barisani, and Fiala, from the Kapelle. L. Mozart,
who was "as pleased as a child about the excellence of the orchestra,"
intended to go to Munich with his daughter as soon as he could arrange
to be absent. But as he dared not risk a refusal from the Archbishop,
and it was rumoured that the latter meditated a journey to Vienna, he
waited his time. It suited him very well that the first performance was
postponed until Hieronymus had actually left Salzburg. This being so,
he set out on January 26 to be present at the last rehearsal and the
performance. Wolfgang had arranged that his father and sister should
find accommodation at his own lodging (in the Burggasse), if they would
be contented to live for the time "like gipsies or soldiers."
The arrival of Mozart's father and sister at Munich brings us to a
detailed account of the performance of "Idomeneo"
{PERFORMANCE, JANUARY 29, 1781.}
(141)
and its success. The "Munich Literary and Miscellaneous News" (February
1, 1781, No. XIX., p. 76) announced it briefly as follows:--
On the 29th ult. the opera of "Idomeneo" was performed for the first
time in the new opera-house. The adaptation, music, and translation all
proceed from Salzburg. The scenery, including a view of the harbour
and Neptune's temple, are among the masterpieces of our well-known
theatrical architect, the Herr Councillor Lorenz Quaglio.[8]
All that we read, however, of the success of the opera in rehearsal
leaves us no doubt that it met with a very favourable reception.
As to the sum received by Mozart in payment for "Idomeneo" we know
nothing; but it cannot have been a large one, or L. Mozart would not
have written (December 11, 1780): "How about the score? will it not be
copied? You must be careful as to this, for _with such a payment the
score cannot be given up_." To which Wolfgang answered (December 16,
1780): "I made no ceremony as to the copying of the score, but spoke
openly on the subject to the Count. It was always the custom in Mannheim
(where the kapellmeister was well paid besides) to give up the score
to the composer." The original score, in three volumes, is written in a
very neat but rapid hand, with scarcely any alterations except a few in
the recitatives. As usual, the different numbers are written separately
and then put together; the double-bass part was written larger, as in
other scores, for the convenience of the bass-player at the clavier. The
score was to have been printed at the time, as appears from a letter of
L. Mozart to Breitkopf (August 10, 1781): "We were advised to publish
the opera, printed or engraved, either in full score or clavier score.
Subscribers were promised for some thirty copies, among whom was his
highness Prince Max of Zweibrücken, but my son's journey to Vienna and
the intervening events caused us to postpone the whole affair." The
music for the ballet which was given with "Idomeneo" has not yet been
printed (367 K.).
Mozart seems to have set great value on "Idomeneo"
{IDOMENEO.}
(142)
(366 K.), even in later years;[9] it is certain that soon after he had
made good his footing in Vienna he exerted himself to have it placed
on the stage, for which purpose he intended entirely to remodel it.
Unfortunately this project fell through, and when in 1786 a company of
distinguished amateurs performed the opera at the residence of Prince
Karl Auersperg, Mozart contented himself with several alterations, but
did not attempt a complete remodelling. Later, and more especially
quite recently, "Idomeneo" has been given from time to time on different
stages, without exciting as much interest in the general public as the
better-known works of Mozart; the judgment of connoisseurs, on the other
hand, has always distinguished it.[10] Both phenomena are comprehensible
on a close examination of the distinctive features of the work.
Ulibicheff remarks with great justice that it is easy to distinguish
in "Idomeneo" where Mozart has still clung to the formulas of the opera
seria, where he strives to imitate Gluck and the French opera, and where
he gives free play to his own independent impulses as an artist. These
indications are, of course, not to be met with accurately marked out in
the different pieces, Mozart's individuality, in the perfection to which
it had now attained, being throughout the very pith of the work.
We have seen that the libretto unites the characteristics of Italian
and French opera as far as style is concerned, but that the determining
element is the Italian style. We have seen further that the singers,
with the exception of the two female characters, belonged to the Italian
school, which fact tended to the maintenance of Italian form.
It might therefore be expected that Mozart, especially in the songs,
should set out from the traditional forms, and only
{ITALIAN CHARACTER OF THE MUSIC.}
(143)
attempt to modify them as far as was possible. But the influence of the
French original on the opera lay deeper than this, and was impressed
on its poetry, language, and nationality, Italian as these all were in
external form. Let us consider the songs. The effort is evident to give
a more individual expression to the sentiment arising from the dramatic
situation than was usual even with Metastasio; but the form and
construction are only modified, and have retained the specific character
of Italian poetry. The rhetoric differs altogether from the rhetoric
of French poetry. Indirectly, too, language by its rhythm and accent
affects musical construction, and the distinctions between the
Italian and French language are strikingly apparent, not only in
the recitatives, which are governed by the musical character of the
language, but in the formation of the melodies, where language must be
taken into account as an essential element. But deepest of all lies the
difference in the conceptions and ideas of the two nations. The emotions
and passions of different nations vary not only in intensity but in mode
of expression, and where a truly national art has developed itself
this special character is stamped on all its productions. The Italians
express their feelings vividly and accent them strongly, and not only
so, but their instinctive love of formula calls forth sharply defined
characterisation and favours typical developments, as is shown,
for instance, in their singularly perfect talent for pantomimic
representations. This tendency has had a marked influence on the
development of music, particularly of dramatic music, in Italy. It still
bears a national character, which is not only stamped on it in certain
forms and turns of expression, but which is the artistic expression of
emotions springing from the very nature of the people. Whoever has heard
Italian music performed both by Italian and German singers will readily
be convinced that the difference rests not only on style and method,
but still more essentially on the peculiarities of the Italian national
character. It should not therefore be matter for surprise that music
which to Germans appears false or unnatural should make a much deeper
impression on Italians than the merely sensual one which strikes the
ear.
{IDOMENEO.}
(144)
Mozart's "Idomeneo" bears this distinctive Italian colouring, as do all
his Italian operas, not only in the employment of Italian technicalities
and mechanism, but in the living breath and fragrance which nothing but
an absorption into the national spirit could bestow. Even as a boy he
displayed a delicate sense of national distinctions, when in "Bastien
und Baitienne" and the "Finta Semplice" he defined so sharply the limits
of German vaudeville and of opera buffa. If "Zaide" is compared with
"Idomeneo," the fundamental distinctions of conception and style are
not less definitely marked; and the same was the case later in the
"Entführung" and the "Zauberflote," in "Figaro," "Don Giovanni," "Cosi
fan Tutte," and "Tito." To give only one example: one of the most
beautiful and affecting scenes that Mozart ever wrote is that in which
Idomeneo, at the request of the high priest, indicates his son as
the sacrifice demanded by the gods, and all the people break out into
lamentations; and yet this chorus (24) is a most unmistakable instance
of the Italian form and style. Places like "Giä régna la morte" appear
typical of similar modes of expression which occur so frequently in
Italian operas. But the Italian mould in which Mozart's work is cast,
and on which the harmony of the whole depends, is not consciously put
forward as a national colouring. It proceeds from such an intimate
acquaintance with the Italian style as was then considered the proper
foundation for musical studies, and was only possible so long as Italian
music bore actual sway in German churches and theatres, and found no
contradiction in the national consciousness. This sway was undisputed in
South Germany during Mozart's youth and period of artistic development.
The musical atmosphere in which he grew up, the elements of culture
which were offered to him, were thoroughly Italian; and Italian
conceptions and fashions had become second nature to him as to all other
German artists who took part in the development of Italian opera during
the last century. The relation in which an artistic genius stands to his
time and nation is difficult to grasp. Far from shunning the influences
of either, his genius displays itself in his power of representing their
significant
{MOZART'S USE OF ITALIAN FORMS.}
(145)
features and tendencies with force and vigour, amounting even to
one-sidedness; and then again it sets itself in opposition to them, and
struggles until it rules and determines them anew. It would be a hard
task indeed to fathom the nature of an artist to that point where
the threads of his personal powers and proclivities, and those of the
cultivation of his time and nation, are so interwoven that they appear
as the root of his artistic individuality; we must be content with
tracing onward the path of his development.
Although Mozart's training had so imbued him with the spirit of Italian
music that its essence appeared to him as the essence of music itself,
yet he transformed the elements which he had so absorbed with the
whole force of his individuality. He did not consciously adopt them as
national, neither did he oppose them from motives of patriotism, and
seek to substitute a German style. His individuality joined issue with
the elements of an art ready to hand in full development, and produced
works of art which were genuinely Italian, and also genuinely Mozart.
The fresh new life which had awakened in German poetry, and which first
caused a consciousness of national existence to show itself in the realm
of art, touched Mozart at a time when his musical education was already
firmly grounded. He could therefore without self-contradiction continue
along the trodden path, and carry on the development of the Italian
opera as a settled form of art, which he had made his own in the truest
sense. But the impulse of German art laid hold, as we shall see, of his
innermost being, and gave him clear consciousness of his capabilities
as a German artist. Granted that the German element of his nature--with
which he could never dispense--remained latent and inactive while he
appropriated Italian art as his own, yet all that he so took was treated
as his own free property and turned to account with German thought
and feeling. While thus the German school of music was partly founded,
partly endued with new life by him, he brought Italian opera to a climax
as far as its universal application was concerned; after Mozart it
becomes more exclusively national. Like every genius who has made his
mark in the history of art, he casts his
{IDOMENEO.}
(146)
glance over the past as well as into the future. To him it was given to
concentrate the living elements of Italian music into works of mature
perfection in art, and, setting to work with freshly tempered force,
to turn to account the youthful impulses of German music, and lead them
towards the goal of artistic freedom and beauty.
Thus, in Idomeneo we recognise the genuinely Italian character of the
opera seria, brought to its highest perfection by the force of Mozart's
perfectly cultivated individuality; but in details we still perceive
the ascendency of traditional form, to which the artist was obliged to
yield.
It is most unmistakably present in the two songs allotted to Arbace.
The part of confidant was intended both musically and dramatically as a
stop-gap; it served as a foil for the more important characters, and was
a principal adjunct in the production of that _chiaroscuro_ which was
considered as essential to scenic effect. On this account Arbace's two
songs (11, 22) are not woven into the dramatic web of the opera either
in words or music. Some concessions were doubtless made to Panzacchi, a
clever and accomplished singer of the old school, and there is no lack
of runs, jumps, and similar feats for display of execution. The songs
follow the old fashion in other ways also (except that they have only
one tempo, and a structure modified accordingly), as, for instance, in
the introduction of cadenzas; a very long ritornello of the second song
is afterwards shortened at both ends. But in order to give them some
musical interest, the accompaniment, although weak in instrumentation,
is carefully worked out in counterpoint, especially in the second song.
The preceding accompanied recitative, in composing which Mozart plainly
had Panzacchi in view, is fine and expressive.
Dal Prato also, for whom the part of Idamante was intended, had only
the knowledge of an Italian singer, and that in no considerable degree.
Mozart was again, therefore, fettered by tradition, and could venture
little to render the song more original and lifelike. In all the three
songs for this character (3, 8, 27), the old type is clearly to be
recognised. The first, if the singer had had a powerful execution,
{MUSIC FOR DAL PRATO AND RAAFF.}
(147)
which he avowedly had not, would probably have been an ordinary bravura
song; it has the general plan of one, but is without bravura passages.
The emphasis is laid on the accompaniment, which is independent and
interesting throughout; the constant use of the wind instruments
supplies it with fine sound effects. The frequent changes of time, the
construction of the song being in all other respects very regular, is
intended to give animation to the expression. The second air is shorter,
to suit the situation, more lively and energetic in expression, but
equally dependent on the accompaniment for originality and interest.
The third adheres to the old form by the introduction of a slow middle
movement (Larghetto 3-4) and the accompaniment is simpler; but the song
as a whole is conciser than was the fashion formerly.
Raaff's advanced age would have prevented his satisfying any very great
expectations; but he was also, as Mozart complained, "so wedded to
his old jog-trot ideas that it was enough to drive one crazy." He was
obliged therefore in the very important part of Idomeneo to submit to
much that was against his convictions and inclinations. But Raaff was an
accomplished and sensible singer, from whom much could be looked for in
respect of delivery and expression. His first air (6) vividly expresses
deep and painful feeling in two tolerably short and precise movements,
an andantino sostenuto 3-4, and allegro di molto (5); it is dramatically
quite in its place, and gives opportunity to the singer to display a
well-trained voice. The detached, sharply defined motifs, united by
interludes, remind us of the old style, but they are very cleverly
arranged and carried out, and the treatment of the wind instruments
gives a splendidly sonorous and yet subdued effect to the orchestra,
which was then quite novel, and must have been remarkably impressive.
The second air (13) is a long bravura song in one movement (allegro
maestoso) in the grand style. Mozart calls it "the most splendid song"
of the opera; and protests vigorously against the idea that it was not
written "for the words"; but more was demanded from the singer than
Raaff was able to give. It has the proper heroic character of the opera
seria, and affords opportunity for the display of vocal art in
{IDOMENEO.}
(148)
sustained passages, long notes, and bravura passages. The last are
completely obsolete; but Mozart was right to think well of the song; it
is full of expression and character, interesting through its rich
and brilliant accompaniment, and containing, especially in the middle
movement, surprising beauties of harmony. How striking and expressive
is, for instance, this harmonic transition:--[See Page Image]
The third air (30), which Mozart endeavoured to write to please his
old friend, is on that very account quite after the old pattern; it has
great resemblance to the song which Mozart had so accurately fitted to
Raaff at Mannheim (p. 408). The chief movement is a broadly sustained
adagio, simple and noble in tone, and giving opportunity to the singer
to display sustained singing, the effect of which is enhanced by
a figured accompaniment, shared between the strings and the wind
instruments; the middle movement, allegretto 3-8, is of less importance.
A sketch which has been preserved of this song affords a good example of
Mozart's method of work; the ritornellos, the voice and the bass are
{ILIA--ELECTRA.}
(149)
all fully noted. Probably he submitted the sketch to Raaff before
elaborating the song; it coincides in all but a few unimportant
alterations with the later elaboration. He wished at first to compose
the words of the middle movement in the same time and measure as the
first movement; after four bars, however, which he erased, he wrote the
middle movement as it at present stands.
In spite of the restrictions laid upon him in this far from
inconsiderable part of the opera, Mozart's progress since the "Re
Pastore" is very marked. What we now find is not the struggle of
youthful genius against obsolete and hampering forms, but a conscious
compliance with them, on definite grounds, by means of which the
composer strives to extract all the good possible from his unfavourable
circumstances, and knows exactly how far he can go. It is difficult,
however, now that the tradition of these forms is wholly lost, to decide
with certainty how much is due to the insensible effect of custom, and
how much to the conscious labour of the artist. Those pieces in which
Mozart could act without control make an entirely different impression.
To these belong the parts of Ilia and Electra. Bravura has a decided
place in the conception of the latter, but with an individual colouring
of passion which Mozart has made free use of as the characterising
element. The two great airs (5, 29) are the vivid expression of a
glowing impulsive nature, which is raised by an admixture of haughty
dignity above that vulgarity into which violent outbreaks of jealousy
and revenge so readily fall. In spite of the text, which puts the
traditional bombastic pathos into the mouth of Electra (29)--
D' Oreste, d' Ajace Ho in seno i tormenti,
D' Aletto la face Giä morte mi dä.
Squarciatemi il core Ceraste, serpenti!
the composer has succeeded in infusing character and individuality into
the song.
The two songs are allied in subject, but their treatment is
{IDOMENEO.}
(150)
different. While in the first passion ferments, as it were, and breaks
forth in separate bursts, the second is a continuous stream of wild
rage, and calls for the more particular employment of the higher notes
of the voice. Purely executive display is not sought after, with the
exception of one passage going up to C in alt, and very expressive,
if well sung, but a passionate, well-declaimed delivery is taken for
granted throughout. Occasionally the voice part is more declamatory
than melodious, and the effect is provided for by a rapid succession
of striking harmonies. How wonderfully affecting, for instance, is the
passionate outcry:--[See Page Image]
The orchestra has an altogether novel function as a means of musical
characterisation. It goes its independent way
{ELECTRA--ILIA.}
(151)
side by side with the voice, interesting by virtue of the singular
vitality of its accompanying passages and its own motifs, and its
masterly tone-colouring gives body and force to the whole composition.
In the first air all is restless motion--we have the flutes in broken
chords, flashes of sound like lightning from the wind instruments,
and only at certain points are the forces united into a concentrated
expression of emotion. How striking, again, is the effect in the last
song when, after the long torturing shake passage for the violins,[11]
the united orchestra bursts forth into a very transport of revengeful
feeling.[12]
Electra's middle song (14) is in strong contrast to the passionate
outbursts of the other two; here her happy love seems to fill her very
being. She breathes forth a calm serenity and tender sweetness, as if
there could be no place in her heart for jealousy and revenge. The voice
part with the exception of one ornamental passage resembling the string
quartet accompaniment, is very simple; rightly delivered the expression
of satisfied affection will be found quite in accord with Electra's
character.
In the character of Ilia, Mozart has followed his natural bent; it is
full of sentiment, tender and graceful, without any violent passion. It
was played by the excellent actress and singer, Dorothea Wendling; here
Mozart had free scope, and in her songs (2, 12, 19) we find the finest
expression of his manner as an artist. In the first air (2) we find the
simplest means lying ready to hand employed to give dramatic effect;
such, for instance, is the alternation of major and minor key for the
principal subject, the climax produced by its repetition, the different
ways in which the exclamation "Grecia!" is treated, &c. Not only are
we affected by the charm of beautiful and graceful ideas, but the
expedients of formal construction become the natural
{IDOMENEO.}
(152)
expression of the innermost feelings of the heart. The second air (12)
is a cavatina, having two verses repeated with trifling alterations, and
accompanied by four obbligato wind instruments, viz.: flute, oboe, horn,
and bassoon, Besides the string quartet. Mozart's old Mannheim friends,
wendling, Ramm, Lang, and Ritter were together again, and he was
delighted to write a piece that should do honour to them and to him.
There can be no question as to his success. The first impression is
one of the purest melody, filling the musical listener with perfect
satisfaction. A nearer examination shows as much to admire in the
simplicity of the artistic structure (the symmetry of which in reading
the score is displayed as it were on a ground plan) and in the delicate
use of sound effects, as in the tenderness and grace of the conception.
Let us consider the situation. Ilia comes to thank Idomeneo for
the kindness which she, as a captive, has received in Crete. She is
embarrassed by the remembrance that she has lost her father and her
fatherland, that Idomeneo is her ruler, and the father of Idamante, and,
more than all, by the consciousness of her love for Idamante; and yet
this very love sheds for her a rosy light on all around.
She begins, then, with a composed, almost reverential address, and as
her feelings grow more intense, the remembrance of her sorrows returns;
but all gives way to the one feeling: "or gioja e contento," in which
she altogether loses herself. Such a combination of different elements
into a harmonious whole constitutes a true work of art, and it must
needs be found beautiful as long as the principles of music remain what
they are. The situation of the last air (19) is less striking; it is
the longing sigh of a deserted lover; but the main features of Ilia's
character have already been so clearly defined that her singular charm
is as indelibly impressed here as elsewhere. It is only necessary to
compare the air (14), in which Electra expresses her tenderest feelings,
to perceive how the essential distinctions between the two women are
characterised by the music.
The duet for the two lovers (20 b) is interesting and pleasing, but not
very striking; in form and change of tempo,
{ENSEMBLES.}
(153)
as well as in conception and treatment, it adheres to the
old-established custom of making a love duet light and graceful. It
proceeds in unbroken movement and precise form throughout, and there is
no true bravura.
The terzet (17) is more striking, noble, and simple, and of fine musical
effect, but the dramatic situation is not brought to expression in the
full energy of which it is capable. It is certainly placed with design
between a succession of pleasing situations and of more agitated ones;
its calm and earnest mood fitly concludes what has gone before and
prepares the mind for what is to follow, without unduly diminishing
the effect of surprise. In the situation, as here presented, the three
characters are all in a depressed and anxious mood, which restrains any
lively outburst of emotion, and justifies the moderation of the musical
rendering.
The quartet (21) takes a higher place as regards invention and
characterisation; Mozart himself preferred it, and rejected any
interference from the singers in its composition as decidedly as he gave
way to them in the songs. It is not an easy task to write a quartet
for three sopranos and a tenor, but Mozart's accurate knowledge of the
capabilities of the voices, and his skilful combinations, enabled him to
command the most original and beautiful sound effects. We must admire,
too, his genius in marking out a distinct plan, within the limits of
which he moves at his ease, and in giving sharp touches of character
without disturbing the unity of the piece.
Ilia and Idamante stand in natural contrast to Idomeneo and Electra, and
each individual is accurately characterised. This is most apparent where
they all sing together, and gives life and significance to the music.
Besides the independent treatment of the voices, the quartet is
especially distinguished by harmonic beauties of an uncommon kind, and
undeniably belongs to Mozart's finest performances. His wife relates
that once, when singing in this quartet, he was so deeply affected that
he was obliged to desist, and for a long time would not look at the
composition again.[13] The
{IDOMENEO.}
(154)
conclusion is original and appropriate. Idamante's commencement is that
of a man who has made up his mind: "André ramingo e solo," however, dies
away with the words "morte cercando" into gloomy meditations. At the
close he again announces, "Andrò ramingo e solo," and leaves the scene
while the orchestra continues to express gloom and sadness, dying away
gradually into silence.[14]
The chorus forms a principal feature of "Idomeneo." There is an
important difference, however, between those choruses which actually
belong to the plot and express the meaning of the situation with
emphasis, and those which are only superficially connected with the
plot, and serve principally for ornament. These last are mostly in
connection with the ballet, and should be placed side by side with the
ballet music. Such are the first chorus (4), during which the Trojan
captives are loosed from their fetters, the closing chorus during
Idamante's coronation, and most especially the chorus at the end of the
first act (10), in which we should not fail to recognise dance music,
even without the superscription "Ciaconna" and the express indication of
the libretto. The orchestra has a more independent part here than in the
two other choruses. The character of them all is fresh and cheerful;
as with a man rejoicing in the fulness of his health and strength,
everything is stirring and full of sound and bustle, so it is with
these choruses, which, without any striking qualities, are thoroughly
effective where they stand. The charming chorus previous to the
embarkation of Electra and Idamante is more characteristic, and seems
to mirror the cheerful heavens and the calm sea, together with Electra's
happy frame of mind. Very happy in expression are the verses which
Electra sings between the choruses--simple, clear, and full of grace and
delicacy.
{CHORUSES.}
(155)
But the remaining choruses, which are more properly dramatic, are
incomparably more important, grand, and earnest. The first (5),
representing the shipwreck of "Idomeneo," is a double chorus for male
voices. One chorus in the distance is in four parts--the other, nearer,
is in two parts; the former is mostly in unison, the latter imitative;
each chorus is complete in itself, and quite independent of the other,
but the two together form an artistic, clearly apprehended whole. The
orchestra contrasts with it as a solid mass, the stringed instruments
belonging more especially to the second, and the wind instruments to the
first chorus. It falls to the orchestra to depict the storm, and there
are plenty of chromatic scales for the purpose, but the effect depends
chiefly on bold and forcible harmonies. How little Mozart shunned
difficulties and obstacles may be proved by several parts of this scene,
the following passage among others:--[See Page Image]
Still more powerful are the choruses which close the second act. Again
there arises a storm, the sea-monster appears, and horror seizes
the people. While the orchestra is in constant agitation, the chorus
interposes _en masse_, partly in full chords, partly in effective
unison. The succession of striking harmonies reaches its height in the
four-times repeated
{IDOMENEO.}
(156)
question "il reo quai è?" which closes with a pause on a dissonant chord,
repeated, like an echo, by all the wind instruments. Such a magnificent
and agitating effect as is attained by this concentration into one point
of every musical expedient, without overstepping the boundaries of the
beautiful, had scarcely been heard in any opera, and Mozart himself
never surpassed it. The concluding chorus, which follows an accompanied
recitative for Idomeneo, is of an entirely different character,
expressive of a flight, winged by fear and horror. The 12-8 time, seldom
used by Mozart, is suited to the expression of haste and agitation, and
so also is the generally independent and partially imitative treatment
of the voices. They only unite sometimes into an outcry of horror,
otherwise they make detached exclamations, and each goes his way in
hurried confusion until all are dispersed.
The chorus in the third act (24) expresses a totally different sentiment
in equally grand style. When, after the effective appeal of the High
Priest, Idomeneo discloses his obligation to sacrifice his son, the
people, still discontented and murmuring, are struck with grief and
horror. The intensity and almost over-wealth of beauty with which these
emotions are expressed give the music, as we have already remarked, the
national stamp of the Italian opera. We may learn from this chorus how
in a true work of art the universal emotions of the human heart may
be blended with the peculiarities of national and individual life and
transported into the realm of pure art. The effect of unison at the
words "giä régna la morte," expressing the depressed murmur of the
people, is wonderfully fine; the chromatic triplet passage of the
accompaniment seeks meanwhile in vain to raise the fainting spirits
higher. This motif passes finely into the calm confidence of the High
Priest's prayer, and the touchingly beautiful orchestral conclusion lets
a ray of light on to this dispirited mood. But the climax has not yet
reached its highest point. After a simple but wonderfully effective
march, there follows a prayer for Idomeneo and the Priest which is a
complete masterpiece, whether we consider its truthful expression
of emotion, its rich and original orchestral accompaniment, or the
combination in it of the various elements which produce the
{CHORUSES--RECITATIVE.}
(157)
total effect. We can here merely indicate the short chorus of priests,
which remains in unison in the one key of C, while the instruments (the
strings _pizzicato_ in a harplike movement, the wind instruments in
characteristic passages) proceed in varied harmonies from C minor to
F major, whereupon the voices sink to F and keep this key, while the
orchestra gives out the solemn and quieting chords of the so-called
church ending (B minor, F major).
It is much to be regretted that after this chorus the opera follows the
usual course of opera seria, and leaves important dramatic situations
unused for the purposes of musical representation. If, according to
the original design, the remaining chief situations had been wrought
together into a duet for Ilia and Idamante and a quartet, we should then
possess masterpieces of grand dramatic music at the close of the opera;
instead of this separate songs have been detached from their context in
order to satisfy the singers.
The grandiose and free treatment of the choruses, both in the voice
parts and the accompaniments, places them almost on a level with those
of "König Thamos"; but a more condensed and pregnant style of music was
required in the opera than in "König Thamos," where the connection with
the drama was loose and superficial. Mindful of this consideration,
Mozart, while giving the choruses free scope for musical execution,
never allows them to stand independent of and apart from the words.
A reminiscence of French opera is evident in the treatment of the
recitatives as well as in the important part allotted to the chorus.
The groundwork of the dialogue is, as usual, in secco recitative, but
accompanied recitative is more often employed as introductory to the
songs than formerly, and it is also made use of as the most fitting
vehicle for passionate or agitated soliloquies, such as that of Idomeneo
after the appearance of the monster (18), or for solemn and pathetic
appeals, such as that of the High Priest (22); also at different points
of the dialogue where the sentiment rises above the tone of ordinary
speech, the accompanied recitative interrupts the secco for a longer or
shorter interval, and gives the dialogue increased power and
{IDOMENEO.}
(158)
animation. The treatment of this kind of recitative is always free. It
passes from sharply accented declamation into more or less elaborate
melodious song. In the same way the orchestra sometimes serves simply as
supporting accompaniment, sometimes suggests in an interlude or carries
out more fully the expression of feeling excited by the words. A
truly inexhaustible wealth of striking and, from many points of view,
interesting features and beautiful motifs displays itself in these
recitatives. Very fine, for instance, is the anticipation in Electra's
recitative (p. 171, score) of the principal subject of the following
song. How suggestive it is when Idomeneo, Ilia having just left him,
expresses the conviction that she loves Idamante, in the characteristic
motif of her song, by which doubtless she has betrayed her love, weaving
it in the most striking manner into the interlude of his soliloquy! (p.
146, score). The variety and wealth of harmonic transitions in these
recitatives is astonishing. Mozart's originality is displayed by the way
in which he gathers to a point the scattered and fugitive emotions of
the various parts, so as to form a consistent whole. There is not a
note which stands alone, every separate touch becomes for him a motif,
capable of further development, and each in its own measure contributes
to express the situation; the subjects are not strung upon a thread,
they are moulded into a homogeneous entity. The effect of the melodrama
lingers in the dramatic character of the instrumental interludes, which
is sharply emphasised by the great variety of orchestral tone-colouring.
An example of such character-painting is afforded by the prelude to the
High Priest's recitative (23), which is in close connection with the
scene which is being enacted on the stage. It begins maestoso, with a
rapid flourish of trumpets, drums, and horns--the King enters with his
followers; then a largo (of two bars length), stringed instruments
and bassoons; the priests enter; finally an agitated passage for the
violins; the people throng tumultuously upon the stage. Then also we
have not only the stringed quartet, with occasional use of one or other
wind instrument, in the recitatives, but, wherever it seems advisable
the whole orchestra
{ORCHESTRA.}
(159)
is employed; the wind instruments serving to accent and light up the
most varied combinations.
This brings us to one of the most remarkable features of "Idomeneo,"
which at the time rendered the work a true phenomenon, and which even
now excites admiration and appears worthy of study: the treatment of the
orchestra. It was to be expected that Mozart, having at his disposal
a well-appointed and excellently trained orchestra, would develop with
partiality the instrumental side of his great work. In point of fact,
the orchestral portions of "Idomeneo" are richer, more brilliant, and
more carefully carried out, even to the smallest details, than was ever
again the case in his later works. The composition of the orchestra is
quite the same as that which he employed in after-times, except that he
occasionally has four horns, as on some former occasions (Vol. I.,
p. 304; II., p. 86), but not in Vienna. He disposed freely of all
the forces at his command, not contenting himself any longer with
accentuating different parts by means of richer instrumentation, but
maintaining throughout a more brilliant and forcible instrumental
colouring, and allowing the choice and use of means to be determined
only by the particular subject which was to be represented. In this
manner he kept himself within the bounds of moderation, and reserved
certain resources for definite effects; for instance, flutes are
employed only in the storm (18), trombones only for the oracle (28). In
the choruses to "König Thamos," on the contrary, the trombones are
in frequent use, as they were later with similar effect in the
"Zauberflöte." So decidedly had Mozart even at that time fixed the
character of this instrument. But he was particularly careful so to
distribute his effects that the ear should never be either over-excited
or over-fatigued. For instance, in the two storm scenes (5, 18) there
are no trumpets and drums; they first occur in the flight scene, which
is quite different in character; and again in the dance choruses (10,
32), when festive brilliancy is required; also in the mourning chorus,
where they are muffled, which modifies the effect in a very original
manner. These observations might advantageously be carried into detail;
but it will suffice here to point out that Mozart's
{IDOMENEO.}
(160)
moderation in the use of his instrumental forces, any unusual enrichment
being more easily perceived in this quarter than in any other, arises
neither from meagreness of invention nor from a calculated singularity,
but that he adopts it with clear views and firm control of his own
powers. Mozart has in "Idomeneo" laid the foundation of all modern
instrumentation, which has since only been developed in detail,
unhappily over-developed and perverted. But the most delicate perception
of material sound effect can only produce superficial results; it should
serve merely as a cooperating element in true artistic production.[15]
The instruments in the hands of an artist are only transmitters of the
musical idea in its fixed construction and embodiment, and the same
loving care which the master displays over harmonious and thematic
elaboration or characteristic expression appears in his efforts to work
on the senses of his hearers by means of beautiful orchestral effects.
But, although the orchestra is perfectly independent, it must not
be forgotten that it works side by side with the voices, serving as
foreground and background for them, and never made so prominent as to
cause the voices to appear only like the accessories in a landscape.
Three marches are characteristic, each in its own way. The first (9) is
a brilliant festival march, belonging by its style to the ballet which
follows; the second (15), which is introduced in the charming way
already noticed, is mainly effective by its gradual approach, new
instruments falling in at each repetition and adding to its force and
tone-colouring. At first the trumpets and drums are muted, as in the
concluding chorus in "König Thamos." The simplest and most
{BALLET,}
(161)
beautiful of the marches is the third (25), which fills a necessary
pause in the scenic arrangements, but which is full of beautiful
expression. The employment of the violoncellos is very original; they go
for the most part with the double-basses, but two octaves higher, which
produces an excellent effect.
The music to the ballet may most fitly be noticed here. It consists of
the following numbers:--
1. Chaconne (D major), "Pas de deux de Madame Hartig et M. Antoine,"
"Pas de seul de Madame Falgera," an elaborate movement, with which is
connected an equally elaborate Larghetto (B flat major). "Pas de seul
pour Madame Hartig." To a tolerably long Annonce succeeds the Chaconne
"pour le Ballet," partly repeated, and concluding with a _crescendo_.
2. "Pas de seul de M. Le Grand" (D major). This begins with a pathetic
Intrade (Largo) leading to a neat and compact Allegretto, which was
omitted in performance. This is followed by a very animated Più
allegro, and concluded by another Più allegro "pour le Ballet," with
a twice-repeated triplet passage in long-drawn _crescendo_ rising from
_pp_ to _ff_. intensified by suspensions, and which is enough to make
one giddy.
3. Passepied (B flat major) "pour Madame Redwen," short and simple, but
very neat and graceful, and quite in dance form.
4. Gavotte (G major), not elaborated, delicate and graceful; a very good
effect is produced by the simple imitation of the violoncello, which is
carried out in harmony in the third part.
5. Passecaille (E flat major). This piece was intended for further
elaboration with a Pas de seul "for M. Antoine," and a Pas de deux
(Madame Falgera et M. Le Grand), but it was considered too long.
Mozart only planned two longer portions without completing them, and in
performance the whole Pas de deux was omitted.
The traditional style of the different dances, as they are known to
us from the suites of Handel and Bach, has been preserved in their
rhythmical structure, and also in other
{IDOMENEO.}
(162)
characteristics; the Passepied, for instance, would have its own place
in every suite, and so also would the Gavotte.
Besides this, the whole of the ballet music in "Idomeneo" is similar to
corresponding movements in the opera, fresh, melodious, and appropriate
throughout. But it is easy to see that Mozart was aware that the
delicate details and the orchestral treatment that are present
throughout the opera would not be in place here. It is true that he has
done justice to himself in the free and flowing arrangement of parts and
the animated grouping of the instruments, and true also that delicate
harmonious transitions constantly betray the hand of a master; but he
was well aware that he must depend chiefly for light and shade on sharp
pregnant rhythm and strong emphasis. With this view, trumpets and drums
are not spared, but the orchestra, with the exception of some separate
strong strokes, is seldom used en masse; there are few attempts after
peculiar effects through unusual instrumental combinations, and only
in the Gavotte does a solo violoncello occur, and that in very modest
fashion. The influence of the ballet-master is apparent from the fact
that there are many more erasures and alterations in this than in any
other part of the opera.
In the overture, a magnificent piece, Mozart altogether abandoned the
old forms. It is in one lively movement, and maintains its character
as an introduction by not coming to a proper conclusion, but passing
immediately into the first scene. A certain typical tone of heroic
solemnity is heard in the first bars, and reiterated more than once
afterwards; but the whole is governed by a severe earnestness, expressed
by the frequent occurrence of the minor key, and by the strong but
beautiful dissonances. The middle subject, on the contrary, begins
a gentle plaint in A minor, which is calmed and relieved by the
wonderfully beautiful introduction of the key of C major, enhanced in
effect by variety of tone-colouring.
If we gather together the results of our observations of "Idomeneo," we
cannot fail to discern in it the work of a master who has arrived at the
maturity of his powers while still in the full bloom of youth. It was
only his
{GLUCK'S INFLUENCE.}
(163)
submission to those restraints which seemed unavoidable, which prevented
his freeing the opera seria from the conventionalities which formed,
indeed, no essential part of its being. Even had he succeeded in doing
so, it would have involved no renunciation of its national character,
which, as we have seen, in no way fettered Mozart's individuality. But,
since in the improvements he made he was indebted to French opera, and
especially to Gluck, the question arises how much, and in what way,
Mozart had learnt from the great Parisian master. It is not merely
unquestionable that Gluck exerted a general influence over Mozart's
opinions and tendencies, but the traces of a close study of his works,
and especially of "Alceste," may be easily discovered. He had been
present as a boy at the first representation of "Alceste." Its influence
is apparent in many details, such as the harmonic treatment of the
oracle, and the use of sustained chords for the horns and trombones
in the accompaniment to the appeal of the High Priest. The march in
"Alceste" has served as a model for the style, if not for the execution,
of the last march in "Idomeneo." The High Priest's soliloquy is
altogether analogous in plan and treatment to that of Gluck's High
Priest; again, the recurring subject of the interlude--[See Page Image]
reminds us of the corresponding one in "Alceste"--and other similarities
may be detected. More important is the similarity of dramatic style,
which is especially evident in the treatment of the recitatives, and
in the share taken by the orchestra in the characterisation. But that
Mozart learnt from Gluck only as one master learns from another, and
that he turned his borrowed pound to rich account, it needs but a closer
consideration of these details, as well as
{IDOMENEO.}
(164)
of the whole work, to make plain. We must not underrate the wholesome
and powerful effect which grand and important works must have made upon
him, and the enlightenment and correction of his views as to the nature
of the opera thereby obtained. But we must also remember that
Mozart received these impressions and this instruction into a nature
self-dependent and productive, and that his artistic cultivation enabled
him to appropriate only what was in accordance with his nature.
Gluck sets aside the fixed expressions of operatic form as far as
is practicable, in order to gain perfect freedom of dramatic action;
Mozart, on the other hand, strives to spare these forms, and so to mould
and develop them that they may themselves serve as vehicles for dramatic
expression. This he does not because he clings to what is old and
established, but with the just perception that these forms contain
an essential element of artistic construction which is capable of
development. Mozart never seeks, as Gluck did, to forget that he is
a musician; on the contrary, he remembers it at every point of his
artistic production, and could not ignore the fact if he would. In
opposition to the one-sided requirements of dramatic characterisation,
he falls back upon the principles of musical construction, which are far
from contradicting such requirements, and are in fact the higher power
which establishes them. On these grounds we assert that Mozart's
creative power in music (to which we must first turn our glance in
judging an artist) was more universal and deeper than that of Gluck;
that he surpassed him in artistic cultivation and discipline will be
doubted by no one who compares the technical work, the disposition of
the orchestra, &c., in "Idomeneo" with Gluck's operas. This judgment
does not exclude the fact that some of Gluck's performances as an artist
are not only grand and striking, but surpass kindred works by Mozart.
But if the laws and nature of art are once perceived, a more certain
rule is provided for the judgment of the work of art as well as of the
artist; and here Mozart may bear away the palm.
Mozart's leave of absence was not extorted from the Archbishop without
difficulty, and it was limited to six weeks.
{DREAD OF RECALL.}
(165)
The better satisfied he became with his life in Munich, where he found
friends, appreciation, and enlightenment, the more appalling grew
the prospect of returning to Salzburg, and he was in terror lest the
Archbishop should recall him even before the performance of the opera.
With this idea he writes to his father (December 16, 1780):--
_À propos!_ how about the Archbishop? Next Monday I shall have been
absent from Salzburg for six weeks. You know, my dear father, that it
is only for love of you that I remain in Salzburg, for, by heaven! if
it rested with me I would have torn up the agreement and resigned my
appointment before I left home this time. It is not Salzburg, but the
prince and the proud nobility who become more insupportable to me every
day. I should hail with delight a letter informing me that he no longer
needed my services. The patronage I have here would assure me of present
and future means of support, without taking into account the chances by
death, which none ought to count upon, but which is no bad friend to
a man in search of employment. But anything in the world to please
you--and it would come all the easier to me if I could get away now and
then for a little to take breath. You know how hard it was to get away
this time, and that without some great cause there is no possibility
of it again. Come to Munich and hear my opera, and then tell me if I am
wrong to feel unhappy when I think of Salzburg.
His father seeks to reassure him as to the leave of absence (December
25, 1780):--
As regards the six weeks, I have decided not to take any steps in the
matter, but if I hear anything on the subject I shall certainly answer
that we understood you were to remain in Munich six weeks after the
composition of the opera, for its rehearsal and production, but that
I could not imagine that his highness would suppose that such an opera
could be composed, copied, and performed in six weeks, &c.
It would not, however, have been a matter of regret to L. Mozart if
Wolfgang could have met with a good situation in Munich. Wolfgang
himself had been rendered full of hope from the gracious reception of
the Elector, and wrote to his father that if he succeeded in settling
in Munich, he (the father) must not long remain in Salzburg, but must
follow him thither. He was very anxious to demonstrate in Munich that he
could write other things besides operas, and he turned his church
music to account. With this object he wrote to his father (November 13,
1780):--
{IDOMENEO.}
(166)
Be so kind as to send me the scores of the two Masses that I have at
home, and also the Mass in B flat major (275 K.), for Count Seeau has
promised to speak of them to the Elector. I should like to make myself
known in this style. I have just heard a Mass by Grua (kapellmeister in
1779, died 1826); it would be easy to compose half-a-dozen a day of that
kind of thing.
Mozart also appears to have tried to win favour with the Elector by
a new church composition; at least a grand Kyrie in D minor (341 K.),
judging by the character of the composition and the distribution of the
orchestra, can only have been written during this stay in Munich. The
orchestra consists of the usual string quartet, and in addition two
flutes, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, four horns (in D and F),
two trumpets, and drums; there is no grouping of the kind that is found
in "Idomeneo." Whether this is a fragment of a Mass which was never
completed, or whether it was intended for insertion in another work,
cannot now be decided. It is tolerably long, but elaborated without much
thematic treatment, the elements of the construction and flow being
more rhythmical and harmonic, and taking their principal charm from
the independent and richly elaborated orchestral accompaniment. Among
Mozart's sacred compositions his Kyries are specially distinguished by
an originality of tone-colouring and peculiarly melodious treatment,
which are extremely well suited to the melancholy tone of the movement
before us. Much of it points to the Requiem, and opens the door to
conjecture as to the path which Mozart would have pursued had he devoted
himself specially to church music.
Another great work, apparently written for the Munich Kapelle, is a
grand serenata for wind instruments (361 K.),[16] with the date 1780,
which he must have taken with him, since he would hardly have undertaken
so important a work while engaged on "Idomeneo." The serenata is for two
oboes, two clarinets, two viols, four horns, two bassoons, violoncello,
and double-bass. The instruments, and the task appointed for them, point
rather to the Munich orchestra
{SERENATA, 1780.}
(167)
than to that of Salzburg. Compositions for wind instruments alone,
called Harmonie-Musik, were then much in favour, and Mozart may have
wished to recommend himself by producing an important piece of the kind,
which would place the performances of the band in a brilliant light.[17]
In form the serenata resembles those written for the complete orchestra.
It begins with a solemn Largo, which serves as introduction to a Molto
allegro, worked out very like the first movement of a symphony. This is
followed by a Minuet with two trios, than a broadly planned Adagio, and
again a Minuet with three trios. To this is joined a Romanze (adagio),
simple and lyrical, in two parts, interrupted by an Allegretto leading
again to the Adagio, which is repeated and concluded by a coda. Then
comes an Andante with six variations, and the finale, consisting of a
cheerful Rondo. It is no easy task to write such a succession of pieces
for wind instruments, for the tone-colouring, although striking and
agreeable, must be moderately and carefully treated. People were
certainly more accustomed to this kind of music at the time, but even at
the present day the serenata does not produce a sense of fatigue. It has
an interest as a proof of the minute study which Mozart bestowed on all
instrumental forces, whereby he acquired that complete mastery of the
orchestra which is displayed in "Idomeneo."
But the work has a higher significance than that of a mere study of
instrumentation, as is shown by the admiration it has excited in many
places quite recently. The charm of the composition depends greatly upon
the certainty with which the peculiar style of each instrument is made
use of; but this forms only one side of the artistic construction of the
idea, and the full force and beauty of the instrumental effects are only
perceived when they are considered as a means of representing each part
of the whole work in its due proportion.
{IDOMENEO.}
(168)
Great delicacy and diversity are shown in the grouping and treatment
of the different instruments. The first players naturally undertake the
chief parts, the accompaniment falling to the secondary players, but the
disposition of parts is so free and independent that the difference
is not always apparent.[18] All the movements are well planned and
constructed, rich in delicate and interesting touches of harmonic or
thematic elaboration, and in general fresh and tuneful.
The crown of them is the Adagio,[19] in which the musical expression
of deep and earnest feeling rises to a purity and height which is
impossible to the specified representations of certain frames of mind
now in fashion. We here attain, by means of artistic catharsis, as
Aristotle calls it (_purging, purifying_), to an absolute freedom and
satisfaction, which it is granted to man to feel only in the perfect
harmony and beauty of art. The means by which this highest of all
effects is reached are so simple that a dissection of them would only
be a confirmation of the old scripture that the letter killeth and the
spirit giveth life.[20]
As long as Mozart was engaged on the composition and study of his opera
he had no time for recreation, and his visits were confined to the
Cannabich family. After the performance he refreshed himself by entering
with his father and sister into the Carnival gaieties, and by cheerful
intercourse with his friends. But the latter did not allow him to remain
long in idleness. To please his good friend Ramm he wrote a quartet for
oboe, violin, tenor, and violoncello (370 K.), obbligato throughout for
the oboe, but otherwise easy and light in design and execution. For his
patroness the Countess Baumgarten (Vol. II., p. 132) he composed, on
March 8,
{PROLONGED STAY IN MUNICH.}
(169)
1781, a concert aria (369 K.), "Misera dove son" (from Metastasio's
"Ezio," III., 12), which gives a favourable idea of the vocal
performances of this lady. It makes no great demands on the compass of
the voice or execution, but the recitative and air are both earnest
and serious, and require in every respect an excellent delivery. The
instrumentation is simple, only flutes and horns being added to the
quartet.
Mozart's longer stay in Munich was rendered possible by the Archbishop's
journey to Vienna, which was probably occasioned by the death of the
Empress. He wished to appear with all the pomp of a spiritual prince,
and took with him a considerable retinue of courtiers and servants, as
well as some of his most distinguished musicians. Wolfgang rejoiced at
this fortunate circumstance, and enjoyed himself so much in Munich that
he confessed later to his father (May 26, 1781):--
In Munich, it is true, I was a little too gay, but I can assure you on
my honour that before the opera was on the boards I went to no theatre
and visited no one but Cannabich. I exceeded a little afterwards, I own,
but it was through youthful folly. I thought to myself, "Where are you
to go to? To Salzburg. Well, then, enjoy yourself while you can!"
His father was full of thought for him even now; he wrote from Munich to
Breitkopf (February 12, 1781):--
I have long desired that you should publish some work by my son. You
will not, I am sure, judge of him now by the clavier sonatas which he
wrote while still a child. You cannot have seen a note of what he
has written for some years past, unless it may be the six sonatas for
clavier and violin which were engraved at Paris (Vol. I., p. 415). We
have allowed very little to appear. You might make the experiment with
a couple of symphonies or clavier sonatas, or else with quartets, trios,
&c. You should only give us a few copies in return, as I am anxious that
you should see my son's manner of work. But do not imagine that I wish
to over-persuade you. The thought has frequently occurred to me, because
I see so much published and in print that moves me to pity.
Wolfgang did not return to Salzburg. His gay life in Munich was
interrupted by a summons from the Archbishop to Vienna. There he
accordingly arrived on March 12, and there his destiny was to be
fulfilled.
FOOTNOTES TO CHAPTER XXII.
[Footnote 1: Diet, des Théätres, III., p. 126. An edition by Christoph Balard
appeared in 1712, and the text is printed (Rec. des Opéras, XII., 1).]
[Footnote 2: Idomeneus's vow, his unwillingness to sacrifice his son, the
consequent pestilence, and his dethronement by the people, are found in
ancient writers; the rest is modern.]
[Footnote 3: I owe to the courtesy of Herr Reg. Lenz, of Munich, the original
libretto with the dialogues in full, not abbreviated as they afterwards
were for composition: "Idomeneo, dramma per musica, da rappresentarsi
nel teatro nuovo di corte per comando di S. A. S. E. Carlo Teodoro, nel
Carnovale, 1781" (Munich: Frz. Jos. Thuille.).]
[Footnote 4: A regular finale to an opera seria was first introduced by Giov.
Gammerra in his "Pirro" (1787); so says Manfiredini (Reg. Armon., p.
121), who disliked this mixture of styles.]
[Footnote 5: ALoysia Weber was no longer in Munich; she had removed with her
family to Vienna, where the good offices of the imperial ambassador,
Count Hardeck, had procured her an engagement as prima donna. It is an
error to suppose that this visit of Mozart to Munich had anything to do
with his relations to Aloysia.]
[Footnote 6: Similar stories were told elsewhere of the Maras (Cf. Forkel's
Musik. Alman., 1789, p. 122; and the account of Mara in Zelter's Briefw.
mit Goethe, III., p. 418; VI., p. 149).]
[Footnote 7: "The accompaniment to the subterranean voices," writes Wolfgang
(January 3, 1781), "is in only five parts, namely, three trombones
and two horns, which proceed from the same place as the voices. The
orchestra is silent at this place." This arrangement was not carried out
without opposition from Count Seeau.]
[Footnote 8: The notice was also published in the Augsburgischen
Ordinari-Postzeitung February 5, 1781, No. 31), Rudhart, Gesch. d. Oper
zu München, I., p. 168.]
[Footnote 9: So says Rochlitz (A. M. Z., I., p. 51). His authorities, however,
are on the main points untrustworthy.]
[Footnote 10: Reichardt, who was usually rather inclined to depreciate Mozart,
gives an appreciative criticism of "Idomeneo," and speaks of it as the
purest work of art which Mozart ever completed (Berl. Mus. Ztg., 1806,
p. 11). Seyfried's criticism of the opera is insignificant (Cäcilia,
XX., p. 178), but Ulibicheffs remarks are often striking, and show much
delicate perception (Nouv. Biogr., II., p. 94).]
[Footnote 11: I should not like to assert that this tremolo passage was not
suggested by the words; just as in Idomeneo's aria (13) the words "fuor
del mar ho un mar in seno" have suggested the billowy motif of the
accompaniment.]
[Footnote 12: The recitative preceding this aria was originally (as the libretto
shows) much longer and more fully composed; many pages were cut out for
performance and some small alterations were made.]
[Footnote 13: Hogarth, Mem. of the Opera, II., p. 198.]
[Footnote 14: Another musical surprise at the close of Electra's second aria is
expressive of the dramatic situation. The last note of the voice passes
into a march heard in the distance, and beginning with the second part,
so that the audience is at once transported into the midst of it. Mozart
has employed the same musical expedient in the march in "Figaro," and
Spohr in the minuet at the beginning of "Faust."]
[Footnote 15: As one example among many, I may quote Idomeneo's prayer (26). The
_pizzicato_ violin accompaniment, imitating the harp, is enlivened by
the division of the passage among the strings; then comes an independent
fully appointed passage for the wind instruments, with an harmonic
movement increasing to a climax, which has an original colouring by
means of its peculiar sound effects. And the repetition shows us a new
development of the previously given elements. A partiality for certain
passages for the wind instruments, mostly in thirds and sixths, is
apparent both in "Idomeneo" and in the choruses to "König Thamos"; it is
observable elsewhere, but in moderation.]
[Footnote 16: For the quintet on which it was founded see p. 94. The serenata was
afterwards made use of in many combinations.]
[Footnote 17: Schinck (Litterar. Fragm., II., p. 286) describes a concert of
Stadler's in Vienna, 1784: "I have heard a piece for wind instruments by
Herr Mozart to-day. Magnificent! It consisted of thirteen instruments,
and at every instrument a master! The effect was grand and magnificent,
beyond description!"]
[Footnote 18: The violoncello and double-bass have, properly speaking, no
independent part; they only strengthen the fundamental bass, which would
not be sufficiently prominent with the second bassoons alone.]
[Footnote 19: This Adagio has been arranged to an offertory, "Quis te
comprehendat" (Coblenz: Falkenberg).]
[Footnote 20: It has already been remarked that a relationship exists between the
melodies of Mozart's instrumental works, and those of his German--never
of his Italian--operas; there are in this serenata suggestions here and
there of the "Entfuhrung," which was composed soon after.]
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