The face of Mozart has been idealized. The authentic portraits coincide
with the descriptions of his contemporaries. He was small, thin, and pale;
with a large head and a large nose; eyes well shaped, but short-sighted,
although he never wore spectacles; he had plenty of fine hair, of which
he was proud, and he was vain of his hands and feet; he dressed carefully
and elegantly, and was fond of jewelry. He rode horseback, and took
great pleasure in playing billiards, bowls, and in dancing. He was very
fond of punch, of which beverage Kelly saw him take "copious draughts."
His prevailing characteristics were amiability, generosity, and a warm
appreciation of all that was good and noble in music or mankind. His
generosity was strikingly shown when, in the darkest hours of need, he
offered to take care of Mariana until her betrothed had found the position
necessary for marriage. It was no doubt often abused by such scapegraces
as Stadler and Schikaneder. He poured out his affection on the members of
his household. He associated freely, and apparently with equal enjoyment,
with aristocrats, learned men, members of the orchestra, singers, and
loungers in the taverns. He was full of fun, and he dearly loved a joke;
he delighted in doggerel rhymes. His intercourse with musicians was as a
rule friendly, and he seldom spoke ill of his neighbors. Gluck appreciated
him as much as Salieri envied him, but he and Mozart were never intimate,
although they dined together and paid each other compliments. Kozeluch
and other small fry hated him, and they also hated Haydn. His relations
with Paisiello, Sarti and Martin were most friendly; and nothing perhaps
illustrates more clearly the sweetness of Mozart's nature than his
immortalizing a theme from Martin's "Cosa rara," an opera which had
prevailed against his "Figaro," by introducing it in the second finale of
"Don Giovanni." He praised Pleyel, sympathized with Gyrowetz, foresaw the
greatness of Beethoven, mourned the death of Linley, and loved Haydn.
In his youth he showed a fondness for arithmetic, and in later years he
was a ready reckoner. He had an unmistakable talent for the languages;
he understood the French, English, and Italian tongues. He was acquainted
with Latin; he had read the works of excellent authors; he even wrote
poetry, but as a manner of jesting. He was not without knowledge of
history. He drew with skill. His letters are full of charm, and Nissen
regretted that a man who used his pen so cleverly had not written
concerning his art. The reply to this is simple, namely, that Mozart was
too busy in making music to write about it. This most honest and amiable
of men loved animals, and birds were particularly dear to him.
Whatever his religious convictions may have been after he reached man's
estate, he wrote to his father, on hearing of his illness, as follows: "As
death, strictly speaking, is the true end and aim of our lives, I have
for the last two years made myself so well acquainted with this true,
best friend of mankind, that his image no longer terrifies, but calms and
consoles me. And I thank God for giving me the opportunity of learning to
look upon death as the key that unlocks the gate of true bliss." The man
as seen in his life and letters was simple, true, averse to flattery and
sycophancy, generous, and eminently lovable.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of a letter from Mozart to his publisher,
Hofmeister]
[Illustration: MONUMENT TO MOZART IN VIENNA CEMETERY]
[Illustration: Chorus by Mr. Wolfgang Mozart 1765.
Leopold Mozart brought his children Wolfgang (aged 8) and Maria Anna (aged
13), in April, 1764, to London, on a concert tour. The exhibition of these
wonder-children lasted till July, 1765. Before leaving, the party visited
the British Museum, which was opened to the public six years before (on
the 15th January, 1759). On this occasion Wolfgang was requested to leave
the Institution some manuscripts of his compositions. Mozart complied, and
among the manuscripts left was this, his first effort in Choral-writing,
and the only one composed on an English text. The father received the
following acknowledgment:--
SIR:--I am ordered by the Standing Committee of the Trustees of
the British Museum, to signify to You, that they have received the
present of the Musical performances of Your very ingenious Son,
which You were pleased lately to make Them, and to return You their
Thanks for the same.
M. MALY,
_Secretary_.
British Museum,
July 19, 1765.
]
[Illustration: LAST PORTRAIT OF MOZART.
Painted by his brother-in-law Lange in 1791. The head is finished, but not
the coat.]
In considering the compositions of this man, who died before he was
thirty-six, and spent much time in travel, the most superficial
investigator must be struck by the mere number. There are 20 dramatic
works; 2 oratorios, a funeral hymn, 3 cantatas, and the reinstrumentation
of 4 oratorios by Handel; 66 vocal pieces with orchestral accompaniments;
23 canons and a collection of songs; 48 pieces for the church, and 20
masses, including the Requiem, which however was probably completed by
Süssmayer; 22 pianoforte sonatas and fantasias; 17 organ sonatas, 16
variations for bugle and pianoforte, 23 little pieces, and 11 sonatas
and pieces for four hands on two pianofortes; 45 sonatas for violin
and pianoforte; 8 trios, 2 quartets and 1 quintette for pianoforte and
strings; for strings alone there are 3 duos, 3 trios, 29 quartets, 8
quintets; then there are 2 quartets with flute, 1 with oboe, 1 quintet
with horn; 10 concertos for violin, 1 for two violins, 1 for violin
and viola, 28 for the pianoforte, 1 for two pianofortes, 1 for three
pianofortes, 1 for bassoon, 1 for oboe, 4 for flute and 1 for flute and
harp, 5 for horn, 1 for clarinet,--in all 55; in dance music there is
one gavotte, 39 contradances, 56 waltzes, 96 minuets, a pantomime and a
ballet; there are 27 different pieces of instrumental music, as marches,
adagios, etc., 33 divertissements, serenades or cassations, all pieces
of long breath, including each from 10 to 12 movements; there are 49
symphonies. These authentic works, accepted by Köchel, number in all 769
compositions. Then when one reflects on the quality of the music and its
artistic value, when one finds in nearly each work the traces at least
of genius, and reflects that a third of them are masterpieces, he begins
to realize the might of the man. He was naturally the most spontaneous
of musicians, and in this respect--in pure creation--without doubt the
greatest of them all. Rarely are seen such fecundity and such versatility.
Unlike Handel, when a work was finished, it was finished; it did not enter
again into another composition. The charge of plagiarism was never brought
against him except in one instance: the religious march in "Idomeneus" was
traced by a friend to the march in Gluck's "Alceste." He wrote as though
he could not help it. Jumping from the bed, he ran to the pianoforte. The
barber found him restless. His mind was preoccupied at table. In travel,
the landscape, the very motion of the carriage stimulated his imagination.
He was constantly jotting down his thoughts on scraps of paper. Much of
his greatest music was composed, even in detail, in his head before he
took his pen. The conversation of his friends, noises in the house or
street did not distract him. His faculty of concentration was incredibly
developed, and Constanze said that he wrote his scores as though he
were writing a letter. And so his inspiration, as shown in the hasty
composition of the "Don Giovanni" overture, reminded Victor Wilder of
the saying of the first Napoleon: "Inspiration is only the instantaneous
solution of a long meditated problem."
In examining the works themselves, many of them must be passed over
without notice. Some were written for special occasions; some, for
combinations of instruments, that no longer, or rarely, are heard in
concert-halls; and it would be idle to assert that all his works are
equally worthy of respect. The complete collection of the writings of even
such a genius as Voltaire contains dreary pages and frivolous opinions.
Let us examine more particularly his pianoforte music, the chamber music,
such as the string quartets and quintets; the symphonies; the religious
music; and the operas, looking at the works themselves, comparing them
with that which was contemporaneous, and observing the influence on
the musicians that followed him. The songs, with the exception of the
"Veilchen" (The Violet), were set to meaningless words and are not to
be ranked with the best of his compositions; but this same "Violet" in
its lyrical-dramatic setting pointed the way to the after glory of the
German song as seen in Schubert, Schumann and Franz. And nearly all of the
concert-arias written for special singers and for special use seem to-day
a little antiquated, and cast in the old and traditional mould. As Mozart
first was known as a pianoforte player, let us first look at his writings
for that instrument. (I use the term pianoforte throughout this article,
following the example of Rubinstein, who, in his "Conversation on Music"
(1892), speaks of compositions for Clavecin, Clavichord, Clavi-cymbal,
Virginal, Spinett, etc., "as written for pianoforte, as to-day we can only
perform them on this instrument.")
There is no doubt but that Mozart was the greatest pianoforte player of
his time. The testimony in his favor is overwhelming. His hands were
small and well-shaped, and some of his hearers wondered that he could do
so much with them. He had elaborated an admirable system of fingering,
which he owed to the careful study of Bach, whose pianoforte music he
had played from a very early age. He regarded good fingering as the
basis of expressive playing. He insisted that the player should have
"a quiet, steady hand," and that the passages should "flow like oil";
he therefore objected to all bravura feats that might be detrimental
to "the natural ease and flexibility." He was vexed by exaggerations
of tempos, by over-rapidity of execution, by sentimental rubatos. He
demanded correctness, "ease and certainty, delicacy and good taste, and
above all the power of breathing life and emotion into the music and of
so expressing its meaning as to place the performer for the moment on a
level with the creator of the work before him." It is hard for men of
another generation to gain an idea of the qualities of the virtuosoship
of the pianist that moved and thrilled the audiences of his time. We
must take the word of his hearers. Clementi declared that he never heard
any one play so intellectually and gracefully as Mozart. Rochlitz waxed
enthusiastic over the brilliancy and "the heart-melting tenderness of
his execution;" Dittersdorf praised the union of art and taste; and
Haydn, with tears in his eyes, could not forget his playing, because it
came from the heart. Unfortunately we can not estimate his virtues as a
player from his works, for all that heard him agree that his improvising
was the crowning glory of his art. Variations on a well-known theme were
in fashion, and the variations were often improvised. The published
variations of Mozart are light and pleasing; he did not care for them, and
they were written, no doubt, for the entertainment of his pupils or his
friends. Of the three rondos, the one in A minor (1787) is very original
and of exquisite beauty, and is a favorite to-day in concert-halls.
The fantasia in C minor (1785) is an important work. Five movements,
in various keys and tempos are bound together, and though each is in a
measure independent, the sections seem to follow each other inevitably.
The harmonies are daring, when the date of its composition is considered,
and the mood, the _Stimmung_, is modern in its melancholy and doubt. In
treating the sonata form Mozart was the successor of Ph. Em. Bach and
Haydn.
Whether his sonatas of the Vienna period are solo or accompanied by other
instruments, they have only three movements. He first sought beauty of
melody, for song was to him the foundation, the highest expression of
music. Therefore the themes were carefully sung, and the second subject
was made of more importance by him than by his predecessors. Often the
chief effect in his sonata movements as in his concertos is gained by
the delivery of a sustained melody, and these melodies written for his
own hands show the influence of the peculiar characteristics of his own
performance. Frequently in the elaboration of the themes he introduced
new melodies, so that we find Dittersdorf complaining of the prodigality
of the composer, who "gives his hearers no time to breathe." When he used
polyphony, it was not to display pedantry but to accentuate the beauty of
the themes.
The slow middle movements are in song form, and are full of emotion and
tender grace; eminently spontaneous, and coming from the heart. The final
movements are generally the weakest. They show the facility with which he
wrote, and their gayness often approaches triviality. Passing over the
pianoforte compositions for two performers and for two pianofortes--not
that they are unworthy of attention-- we come to the sonatas with violin
accompaniment, which, during the Vienna period, were, many of them,
written for pupils. They are characterized by beautiful melodies and bold
harmonies rather than by any great depth or exhibition of scholarship. The
violin part is independent, and not an accompaniment, as was usual at the
time. The trios or terzets for pianoforte, violin and 'cello were chiefly
written for amateurs to play in musical parties. Violoncellists of any
force were rare in these circles, and it is not unlikely that this was a
serious hindrance to Mozart's further development of the trio. Far greater
in breadth of design and in thematic elaboration are the two pianoforte
quartets (1785 and 1786). The trios were written for social purposes,
and brilliancy was perhaps too much cultivated; but in these quartets
passion enters, strong and fierce and bitter. In 1784 Mozart wrote his
father that his quintet in E-flat major for pianoforte, oboe, clarinet,
horn, and bassoon, which was received with great applause in a concert
given by him in the theatre, was the best thing he had ever written, and
he chose it to play before Paesiello. It is certainly a composition of
remarkable beauty, not so much on account of its thematic invention as for
its intimate knowledge of the peculiarities of the different instruments
and for the balance of euphony preserved throughout. The pianoforte
concertos, of which seventeen were written in Vienna, were, as a rule,
intended for his own concert use. He described the first three as "a
happy medium between too easy and too difficult." He added in this letter
to his father, that "even ignoramuses will be pleased with them without
knowing why." Two years later (1784) he wrote, "I cannot make a choice
between the two concertos in B-flat and D. Either one will make the player
sweat." The distinguishing merit of these compositions for pianoforte and
orchestra, unjustly neglected in these days, is the combination of the
two different forces, while these forces at the same time preserve their
individuality. Instead of a duel to the death between the instrument and
the orchestra, there is a generous appreciation of the qualities and
limitations of the pianoforte, which in Mozart's time was still weak
in mechanism. Therefore one gives way to the other for the effect of
the whole. The orchestra enters not to crush but to support. Often the
pianoforte part seems absurdly simple, but a closer investigation will
show that this simplicity is most artfully designed and intended. Seldom
are important themes given to the pianoforte or orchestra alone; they are
shared generously. And no words can reproduce the colors of the orchestral
tone-paintings, or describe the marvelous results gained by simple means
and an unerring instinct. The first movements are in the sonata form, but
there is a certain freedom, and the proportions are on a larger scale.
There is a cadenza, invariable, at the conclusion, and Mozart in his
concerts excited wonder by his improvisations. The cadenzas published
were for the use of pupils. The second movement is in song-form, full of
sentiment, often romantic, the expression of temperament; the song is
sometimes varied. The last movement is generally in rondo form, and the
influence of the dance is strongly marked. These movements are gay and
graceful, and occasionally there is a touch of Haydn's humor. The greatest
of these concertos are perhaps those in D minor (K. 466), C (467), C minor
(491) and in C (503). Nor among his pianoforte works must the two pieces
originally written for a musical clock be forgotten, which are only now
known by a four-hand arrangement. The pianoforte works of Mozart are much
neglected in these days, and most unjustly. It is the fashion to call them
simple and antiquated. But the best of the concertos and the sonatas make
severe demands upon the mechanism and taste of the pianist; the apparent
simplicity is often a stumbling block to him that eyes them askew; and
only by an absolute mastery of the mechanism controlled by temperament can
the song be sung as Mozart heard it, so that the hearer may forget the box
of cold keys and jingling wires.
[Illustration:
Mozart's ear.
Common ear.