Mozart: A Life in Letters: A Life in Letters
Page 48
W. A. Mozart
At the end of August, Mozart took lodgings on the third floor of Innere Stadt 1175 (now 17), not far from the Webers.
119. Mozart to his father, 26 September 1781, Vienna
Mon très cher Père,
I’m sorry you’ve had to pay more postage on my recent letters! – But I’d nothing important to tell you – and I thought you’d like to have some idea of my opera. – The opera started with a monologue and so I asked Herr Stephanie to turn it into a little arietta1 and, instead of having the two of them chatter away together after Osmin’s little song2 to turn it into a duet.3 – As we’ve written the part of Osmin for Herr Fischer, who certainly has an outstanding bass voice – in spite of this the archbishop told me that he sings too low for a bass, so I assured him that next time he’d sing higher – we must take advantage of him, especially because he has the whole of the local audience on his side. – But in the original libretto this Osmin has only this one little song to sing and nothing else, except for the trio and finale.4 And so he’s now got an aria in the first act and will have another one in the 2nd.5 – I’ve told Herr Stephanie exactly what I want for this aria; – the bulk of the music was already written before Stephanie knew a word of it. – You have only the beginning and the end, which is bound to be highly effective – Osmin’s rage is made to seem funny by the Turkish music that I’ve used here. – In developing the aria, I’ve allowed his beautiful low notes to gleam – in spite of our Salzburg Midas.6 – ‘Drum beym Barte des Propheten’7 etc. is still at the same speed, but with quick notes – and as his rage continues to grow, just when you think the aria is over, the allegro assai – in a completely different metre and different key – is bound to be tremendously effective; just as a person in such a violent rage oversteps all the bounds of order and moderation and overshoots the mark, completely forgetting himself, so the music must forget itself – but because the passions, whether violent or not, must never be expressed to the point of causing disgust, and because music, even in the most terrible situation, must never offend the ear but must give pleasure and, hence, always remain music, I’ve not chosen a key foreign to F – the key of the aria – but one related to it, not, however, the one closest to it, D minor, but the more remote A minor. – Now for Belmonte’s aria in A major, ‘O wie ängstlich, o wie feurig’,8 do you know how it’s expressed? – Even his beating, loving heart is indicated – by the 2 violins in octaves. – This is the favourite aria of all who’ve heard it – and of me too. – It’s written entirely to suit Adamberger’s voice. You see the trembling – vacillation – you see his breast begin to swell – which I’ve expressed with a crescendo – you hear the whispering and sighing – which is expressed by the first violins with mutes and a flute playing in unison with them.
The Janissary chorus is all that anyone could demand of a Janissary chorus. – Short and comic; – and written entirely for the Viennese. – I’ve sacrificed Konstanze’s aria9 a little to Mlle Cavalieri’s flexible throat. – ‘Trennung war mein banges Loos. Und nun schwimmt mein Aug in Thränen’10 – I’ve tried to express her feelings as far as an Italian bravura aria allows. – The hui I’ve changed to schnell so it becomes doch wie schnell schwand meine Freude etc.11 I really don’t know what our German poets are thinking of; – even if they don’t understand the theatre, as far as operas are concerned, they should at least not make people talk as if addressing pigs. – Get a move on, porker! –
Now for the trio, namely, the end of the first act.12 – Pedrillo has passed off his master as an architect so that he has a chance to meet his Konstanze in the garden. The pasha has taken him into his service; – Osmin, the overseer, knows nothing of this and, being a foul-mouthed boor and the sworn enemy of all strangers, is insolent and refuses to let them into the garden. – The first thing that’s indicated is very brief – and because the text gave me an opportunity to do so, I’ve produced some quite good 3-part writing. But then the major key enters pianissimo – it must go very quickly – and the ending will make a lot of noise – which is exactly what’s needed at the end of an act – the more noise the better; – and the shorter the better, so the audience’s enthusiasm doesn’t have time to cool off and they don’t stint on their applause. –
You’ve got only 14 bars of the overture. – It’s very short – it keeps alternating between forte and piano, with the Turkish music always entering on the forte. – In this way it modulates through various keys – I don’t think anyone will be able to sleep through it even if they didn’t sleep a wink the whole of the previous night. – But I’m now in a pickle – the first act has been finished for more than 3 weeks – also finished are an aria from the 2nd act and the duet – per li Sigri viennesi13– which consists entirely of my Turkish tattoo; – but I can’t do any more work on the opera as the whole story is being changed – and at my own request. – At the start of the third act there’s a charming quintet14 or, rather, a finale, which I’d prefer to have at the end of the 2nd act. In order to be able to achieve this, a big change needs to be made and, indeed, a whole new plot introduced – and Stephanie is up to his eyes in work, so we have to be a little patient. – Everyone is calling Stephanie names – perhaps with me, too, he’s only being friendly to my face – but, after all, he’s arranging the libretto for me – and, what’s more, doing it just as I want – and in God’s name I can’t expect anything more of him! – Well, I’ve certainly been chattering on about the opera; but I can’t help it. – Please send me the march I mentioned the other day. – Gilowsky says that Daubrawaick15 is expected soon. – Fräulein von Auernhammer and I await the 2 double concertos16 with impatience – I hope we’ll not wait for it as vainly as the Jews for their Messiah. – Adieu for now – farewell, I kiss your hands 1000 times and embrace my dear sister – whose health, I hope, is improving – with all my heart. I am ever your most obedient son
W. A. Mozart
120. Mozart to his father, 17 November 1781, Vienna
Mon très cher Père,
Your letter of the 6th has arrived safely. – As for Ceccarelli, it’s impossible, even for a single night;1 I’ve only one room, which isn’t large and which is already completely filled by my wardrobe, table and piano, so that I really don’t know where I’d put another bed. – And sleeping in one bed is something I won’t do with anyone except for my future wife. – But I’ll have a look round for as cheap a room as possible as soon as I know exactly when he’s coming. – I’ve not seen Countess Schönborn all this time; I didn’t have the heart to go there and still don’t – I know her– she’s bound to say something that I might not be able to swallow without answering back – and it’s always better to avoid such things – it’s enough that she knows I’m here – and if she wants to, she can see me. Czernin couldn’t work out what’s been going on in the Mölk affair and at a public dinner asked him if he’d had any news of his brother, the privy councillor. – Mölk was so stunned he couldn’t reply. – I’d certainly have given him a piece of my mind. He was corrupted in a house that you yourself have often frequented –
I’ll call on the Kletzls as soon as I can. – I’ve finally got some more of my opera to work on. If we were always to believe gossips and place our trust in them! – How often it would be to our detriment! – I really can’t tell you how much people tried to incite me against young Stephanie – it really made me very uneasy – and if I’d done what people were telling me to do, I’d have made an enemy of a good friend, an enemy, moreover, who could have done me a great deal of harm; and all for no reason; –
Archduke Maximilian invited me to call on him at 3 o’clock yesterday afternoon – when I went in, he was standing next to the stove in the first room, waiting for me; he came straight over to me and asked me if I was doing anything for the rest of the day. – Nothing at all, your Royal Highness; – and even if I were, it would always be a privilege for me to wait on your Royal Highness. – No, I don’t want to inconvenience anyone. – He then told m
e that he was thinking of giving a concert that evening for his distinguished visitors from Württemberg and would I like toplay something and accompany the arias. – I was to return at 6 o’clock, when everyone would be assembled. – So I played there yesterday. – When God gives someone a public office, He also gives them understanding – and so it is with the archduke. – But he was much wittier and more intelligent before he became a priest, and he spoke less but more sensibly. – You should see him now! – Stupidity stares from his eyes. – He goes on and on, never stopping, and always in a falsetto. – He’s got a swelling on his neck. – In a word, he seems to have changed completely. – But the duke of Württemberg2 is a charming gentleman – as are the duchess and the princess. But the prince is a veritable blockhead and a dry old stick, although he’s still only 18. –
I must stop now. – Farewell, and be as cheerful as possible! – I kiss your hands 1000 times and embrace my dear sister with all my heart. I am ever your most obedient son,
W. A. Mozart
121. Mozart to his father, 15 December 1781, Vienna
Mon très cher Père,
I’ve just this moment received your letter of the 12th. – Herr von Daubrawaick will be delivering this letter, together with the watch, the Munich opera, the 6 engraved sonatas, the sonata for 2 keyboards and the cadenzas.1 – As for the Princess of Württemberg and me, it’s all over;2 the emperor has ruined everything, only Salieri matters in his eyes. – The Archduke Maximilian recommended me to her; – she told him that if it had been up to her, she wouldn’t have accepted anyone else but that the emperor had recommended Salieri to her; because of her singing. She was very sorry. What you wrote about the house of Württemberg and yourself may possibly be of use to me. –
Dearest father! You demand an explanation of the words that I wrote at the end of my last letter!3 – Oh, how gladly I’d have opened my heart to you long ago; but the reproach that you might have made me for thinking of such a thing at so inopportune a moment dissuaded me from doing so – although thinking about something can never be inopportune. – My aim for the present is to ensure that I have something secure here – this, with the help of less secure forms of income, will allow me to live very comfortably here; – and then – to get married! – You’re shocked at the idea? – I beg you, dearest, most beloved father, listen to what I have to say! – I have been forced to reveal my most pressing concerns to you, you must now permit me to disclose my reasons, reasons that are very well founded. The voice of nature speaks as loudly in me as in anyone else, perhaps even louder than in many a big strong oaf. I can’t possibly live as most young people do nowadays. – In the first place, my religious feelings are too strong, secondly, I have too great a love of my neighbour and my feelings are too honourable for me to seduce an innocent girl; and thirdly, I have too much horror and loathing, too much dread and fear of diseases and am too fond of my own health to fool around with whores; and so I can swear that I’ve never had anything to do with women of this kind. – If I had done, I’d not have concealed it from you, for it is natural enough for a man to err, and to err once would be mere weakness – although I wouldn’t trust myself to promise that, having erred once on this point, I would leave it at that. – But I can stake my life on this. I know very well that this reason – however powerful it may be – is not in itself enough – but it is rather a question of my temperament, which is more inclined to a calm and domesticated existence than to noise and bluster – even in youth I was never accustomed to worrying about my own things, be they linen, clothes etc. – I can now think of nothing more necessary to me that a wife. – I assure you that I often spend money unnecessarily because I’m so negligent. – I’m convinced that I’d manage better with a wife – on the same income that I have now – than I do at present. – And how many unnecessary expenses would be avoided? – Of course, some of these would be replaced by others, but one knows what they are, can plan for them and, in a word, can lead an orderly existence. –
A single person, in my view, is only half alive. – That’s my view of the matter, I can’t help it. – I’ve given it sufficient thought and reflected on it at length – and I shan’t change my mind.
But who is the object of my love? – Don’t be alarmed, I beg you; – surely not one of the Webers? – Yes, one of the Webers – but not Josepha – not Sophie – but Constanze, the middle one. – In no other family have I encountered such inequality of temperament as I have in this one. – The eldest is a lazy, foul-mouthed, mendacious person, who’s as cunning as they come. – Frau Lange4 is a snake-in-the-grass and a coquette, who always thinks ill of people. – The youngest – is still too young to be anything. – She’s just a good-natured but excessively frivolous creature! May God protect her from being seduced! – But the middle one – I mean my good, kind Constanze – is the martyr among them and precisely for that reason she’s perhaps the most kind-hearted, the cleverest and, in a word, the best of all. – She looks after everything in the house – but can do nothing right. O my most beloved father, I could fill whole sheets if I were to describe to you all the scenes that the two of us have witnessed in that house. If you insist, I shall do so in my next letter. – But before I release you from this chatter, I must make you better acquainted with the character of my dearest Constanze. – She’s not ugly, but at the same time she’s not exactly beautiful. – Her whole beauty consists in two dark little eyes and a beautiful figure. She has no wit but enough sound common sense to be able to fulfil her duties as a wife and mother. She’s not inclined to extravagance – it’s completely wrong to claim otherwise. – Quite the opposite: she’s used to being poorly dressed. – The little that her mother has been able to do for her children has been done for the two others, never for her. – It’s true that she’d like to dress neatly and cleanly, but not nattily. – And most of the things that a woman needs she can make herself. And she also does her own hair every day. – She understands all about housekeeping and has the kindest heart in the world – I love her, and she loves me with all her heart. – Tell me if I could wish for a better wife? –
I must add that at the time I handed in my notice5 we were not yet in love – it was born of her tender care and attentions – when I was living in their house. –
And so I want only a small secure income – and, praise be to God, I have genuine hopes of this – and shall then never stop begging you to let me save this poor creature and make both her and me – and, I may say, all of us – happy – surely you are happy when I am? – And you, my dearest father, shall enjoy half the money that I’m assured of receiving! – I’ve now opened my heart to you and explained what I said. – I would now ask you to explain what you meant in your last letter, when you said that I can’t believe that I knew nothing of a proposal that had been made to me and to which, when you heard of it, I hadn’t replied. – I don’t understand a word of this; I know of no proposal. – Take pity on your son! I kiss your hands 1000 times and am ever your most obedient son