If Haydn heard anything of young Mozart, he would have considered him very blessed. Mozart, at six years of age, paid his first visit to Vienna as a brilliant child musician. He was watched over and educated by his musician father. The Emperor spoke of him as a ‘little magician’. At the same age, Haydn had been sent off to a harsh school.
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was born at Salzburg, Austria on January 27, 1756. From his infancy he seemed to be marked out as a favored individual.
The city itself, surrounded by mountains and washed by the river Salzach, was one of the most beautiful in the country. His tall and spacious house in one of the best streets contrasted strikingly with the low cottage by the roadside which was Haydn’s home.
Leopold Mozart, Wolfgang’s father, was a first-rate musician. He not only held a post as violinist to the Archbishop of Salzburg, but also wrote a famous treatise on violin-playing which to this day is still quoted. Mozart’s mother was a woman of great intelligence. They had several children besides Wolfgang, but only one other lived past childhood: a sister a few years older named Nannerl. As a result, their parents’ lives were centered on these two.
Leopold Mozart was determined from the first that both should be musicians. As a result, he carefully thought out and supervised every detail of their education. Although Nannerl was clever, Wolfgang was a marvel.
A Young Prodigy
Before he could write, Mozart was composing music. Nothing seemed difficult to him. At six years old, he was so talented on the harpsichord he could play blindfolded. His father was determined to take both children on their first tour. He brought them to the chief towns of Bavaria and Austria to display their abilities. In Vienna, they played to the delight of the Emperor and Empress; Wolfgang was nicknamed by the former and kissed by the latter.
The following year, his father took him on a more ambitious tour. Starting with Munich, he visited the chief German towns on the Rhine, traveling north till he reached Brussels. Paris was his ultimate destination.
Such journeys in a time when traveling was done by carriage over dangerous roads were not taken lightly. Today, any child who can be advertised as a prodigy is hurried from one capital to another to play in New York, Paris, London, and Tokyo—even if their true talent is questionable.
This was not the case in the 18th century. Nothing but an overwhelming belief in the true genius of his children could have induced Leopold Mozart to incur all the danger and expense of such a journey. After all, the children were delicate. In the previous year, the tour had been interrupted by Wolfgang catching scarlet fever in Vienna.
During the Parisian trip, the children played at the court of Versailles and were admired in Paris. It was there for the first time that some of Wolfgang’s boyhood compositions were printed. Having gotten so far, it seemed a natural thing to go on and conquer London.
Listen to the 4th movement of Violin Sonata No. 1, K.6 (3 min)
This was one of the pieces written during the trip when Mozart was only 7 or 8 years old. It gives a glimpse into his extraordinary abilities. (Note that the video provides a more casual atmosphere, but the musicians are excellent.)
In the spring of 1764, they arrived in London and were received by King George III. Two things that appealed to the simple heart of George III were children and music. The Mozarts gave him both. He was delighted by Wolfgang’s playing on the harpsichord and organ, and was amazed at how he could play Handel’s pieces by sight.
While in London, Leopold Mozart used advertising to his family’s advantage. He worked up the excitement of the sensation-lovers by calling his children ‘prodigies of nature’. He sought musical sympathy on the ground that Handel was his countryman (though the latter claim was a stretch since Handel was from Germay and Mozart was from Austria).
The design succeeded, however: London went into ecstasies over the children, and the father’s pride (and pocketbook) was gratified.
Mere sensation soon dies, however. In the spring of 1765, it became increasingly difficult to work up an audience for the same performance which people had flocked to hear the year before. At last, in the summer of that year, they started on their return journey.
The tour had been a great experience for Wolfgang. It had taught him much of the conditions of life in most of the countries of Europe. He became acquainted with distinguished musicians. All this time, he had been composing ardently. In fact, he wrote his first symphonies during his father’s illness in England.
The travel took a toll upon the delicate boy. He had been seriously ill on the return journey, and when he got home to Salzburg in November, 1766 (he was then between eleven and twelve years old), his parents were wise in deciding to relax the strain by keeping him at home in comparative quiet for a time.
They projected no more big tours for the next three years. Instead, Mozart worked quickly in composition. During this time, he was appointed Konzertmeister(a less important position than Kapellmeister) to the Archbishop of Salzburg—though the post brought him no salary.
Listen to the ‘Kyrie’ of Mozart’s Missa Brevis in G, K. 49 (5 min)
Play until 5:20. This is the opening ‘Kyrie elasion’ (‘Lord, have mercy’) and ‘Gloria in excelsis deo’ (Glory to God in the highest’) that begin the Missa Brevis (small Mass). This performance is done in an Eastern European church that would have been similar to the churches where Mozart’s early music was played.
But Mozart’s father had higher ambitions. He had his eye upon one country which was looked upon as the true home of music: Italy. In the winter of 1769, he and Wolfgang, now nearly sixteen, made their way towards Rome.
From this time we begin to hear more of young Mozart as a composer, and less as a performer. He was passing out of the age when he could be described as a ‘prodigy of nature’. Instead, his precocity was seen in his quickness of mind and remarkable feats of memory.
One example of this has become quite famous. While on a trip to Rome, he first heard Allegri’s beautiful ‘Miserere’ sung in the Sistine chapel. After returning to his lodging, he wrote it down, note for note, completely from memory. No copy of the manuscript existed outside the chapel. The clergy was stunned: how was this possible?
Mozart in Salzburg
The journey closed Mozart’s boyhood. He came back to Salzburg with a commission to write an opera for Milan and a reputation which surprised his countrymen. Anyone so sought after by the Italians must, they felt, be a person of consequence. As a result, the Empress gave him a commission to compose a work, and other opportunities presented themselves.
These commissions, along with his service to the Archbishop, filled much of his time. But the most important event during this time was that in 1773 when visiting Vienna, he was introduced to some of the quartets of Haydn. These so impressed him that he wrote six quartets in the same style; afterwards he said that it was from Haydn that he first learnt to write a string quartet.
In the years which followed, he composed the dramatic cantata Il Ré Pastore (The Shepherd King), his violin concertos, and other instrumental works. Mozart also composed a serenade for orchestra written for the wedding of a family-member named Haffner.
His unique style is already apparent in these youthful pieces. Note that he was only 19 years old when he wrote his second violin concerto.
Listen to ‘1. Allegro’ from Violin Concerto No. 4, K. 218 (9 min)
This is the first of the three movements in the concerto. The charismatic Russian violinist Maxim Vengerov is both conductor and soloist at this 2006 performance for the BBC Proms in London.
Mozart’s troubles were about to begin.
A new archbishop arrived at Salzburg, a man as unlike Haydn’s complacent Prince as any patron could be. In the conditions of Mozart’s service, we see the principle of patronage exercised in the worst possible way.
Ecclesiastical patronage is likely to be more pernicious than secular patronage, for an archbishop can use the church as his excuse for making exorbitant demands of his musicians—although he himself may have no genuine appreciation of their work.
Mozart therefore lived in bondage, cut off from the larger interests of his art. There was no opera at Salzburg and no adequate orchestra. He had to content himself with composing Masses and other church music, and occasional instrumental works for the Archbishop’s household.
Leopold Mozart was impatient for bigger successes on the part of his son, and both he and Wolfgang began to press for a leave of absence. In 1777, the Archbishop yielded grudgingly.
Mozart in Paris
Although Mozart’s father had to remain behind to serve the Archbishop, he and his mother began one more tour. After spending many months at Mannheim with the musical Weber family, they eventually reached Paris. His father was sure the city of lights would provide the perfect opportunity for his son’s powers to shine. But Paris was not yet ready to fall at young Mozart’s feet.
While in Paris, Mozart made new friendships and renewed old ones. Among the latter was his friendship with Johann Christian Bach, the son of J. S. Bach, who had supported his youthful efforts in London. One important work, Symphony No. 31, also known as the ‘Paris Symphony’, was written for and performed at the famous ‘Concert spirituel.’
Mozart wrote his father soon after the performance:
“I was exceedingly anxious at rehearsal, for never in my life have I heard a worse performance. You can have no conception of how they bungled and scrambled through it the first time and the second. Really I was quite frightened and would have liked to rehearse it once more, but there was so much else to rehearse that there was no time left. Accordingly I went to bed, fear in my heart, discontent and anger in my mind.
“I had decided not to go to the concert at all next day; but it was a fine evening, and I finally resolved to go with the proviso that if things went as ill as at the rehearsal I would certainly make my way into the orchestra, snatch Herr Lahouse’s (the first violin’s) instrument from his hand and conduct myself! I prayed God it might go well, dedicating all to His greater honour and glory, and ecce! — the symphony began! Raff stood near me, and in the midst of the first allegro came a passage I had known would please. The audience was quite carried away — there was a great outburst of applause. But, since I knew when I wrote it that it would make a sensation, I had brought it in again in the last — and then it came again, da capo!
“The andante also found favour, but particularly the last allegro because, having noticed that all last allegri here opened, like the first, with all instruments together and usually in unison, I began with two violins only, piano for eight bars only, then forte, so that at the piano (as I had expected) the audience said “Sh!” and when they heard the forte began at once to clap their hands.
“I was so happy that I went straight to the Palais Royale after the symphony, ate an ice, said the rosary I had vowed — and went home. I always am and always will be happiest there, or else with some good honest German, who, if a bachelor, lives alone like a good Christian or, if married, loves his wife and brings up his children well!”
Mozart, Letter of July 3, 1778
Listen to the first movement of Mozart’s Symphony No. 31 “Paris” K. 297 (9 min)
Play from the beginning until 8:42. Performed by Nicholas Harnoncourt and the Vienna Philharmonic.
Except for this success, however, the rest of his time in Paris was not very remarkable. It was made far worse by the shock of personal grief: his mother, who had accompanied him on this journey, took ill and died unexpectedly.
He soon returned to Salzburg, saddened at his loss and wondering about his future.