Johannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus Mozart was born 258 years ago today to his father Leopold, his mother Anna Maria and his sister Nannerl. The child was small and sickly; many feared he wouldn't make it through the night. His mother had trouble delivering the placenta and almost died herself. Both grew stronger each day however; the baby growing to become one of the greatest composers this world has ever known.
In Germany and Austria, especially back in the 18th century, birthdays were not celebrated so much as "Name Days," the feast of the child's patron Saint. Mozart most likely would have been given a greater celebration on October 31, the feast of Saint Wolfgang even though he was traditionally given the first name of the Saint on whose feast he was born, Saint John Chrysostom.
Here is a brief video showing the apartment where Mozart was born. If you have been fortunate enough to have seen this in real life, I would love to hear about it! Please leave a comment below!
Mozart passed away in his home 222 years ago today, December 5, 1791, leaving behind his wife, two sons and an unfinished Requiem Mass that would come to be known as one of the most incredible compositions in the history of classical music. Perhaps the reason why the Requiem is so haunting is because Mozart believed he was writing it for himself.
Earlier that year, a man in gray had come to Mozart's door commissioning a Requiem Mass without giving a name. Later, it was discovered that the message had come from Count Walsegg, a young man Mozart never knew who had recently lost his wife and planned to pass the composition off as his own.
The day of his death, Mozart shared with his friends his feelings on composing the Requiem: "Did I not tell you I was composing this Requiem for myself?"
Mozart died at age 35, not two months before his birthday, almost completing the Lacrimosa, perhaps the saddest and most beautiful movement in the entire piece. The Requiem was completed according to his instructions by his student, Franz Xaver Süßmayr.
Mozart once said of death in a letter to his father in 1787:
"I have made it a habit in all things to imagine the worst. Inasmuch as, strictly speaking, death is the real aim of our life, I have for the past few years made myself acquainted with this true, best friend of mankind, so that the vision not only has no terror for me but much that is quieting and comforting. And I thank my God that He gave me the happiness and the opportunity (you understand me) to learn to know Him as the key to true blessedness."
Happy Independence Day! Although Mozart was not American, he was very much devoted to his own country and people. I thought that today would be a fitting day to share a bit of his patriotism.
In a letter to his father, written on November 24, 1781, Mozart speaks of a concert he had recently given:
The two of us played a sonata [K. 381] that I had composed for the occasion, and which had a success. This sonata I shall send you by Herr von Daubrawaick, who said that he would feel proud to have it in his trunk; his son, who is a Salzburger, told me this. When the father went he said, quite loud, "I am proud to be your countryman. You are doing great honor to Salzburg; I hope that times will so change that we can have you amongst us, and then do not forget me." I answered: "My fatherland has always the first claim on me."
Although German culture was not dominant during his time, Mozart nevertheless felt such a great sense of duty to and pride for his country, which he honored through his music. In a letter to his father, written on May 29, 1778 in Paris, he said:
Frequently I fall into a mood of complete listlessness and indifference; nothing gives me great pleasure. The most stimulating and encouraging thought is that you, dearest father, and my dear sister, are well, that I am an honest German, and that if I am not always permitted to talk I can think what I please; but that is all.
No doubt Mozart's intense love for his country inspired some of his finest works and helped him to always strive to be the best musician he possibly could.
Goodness, it has been nearly a month since I have last written. Life seems to be whizzing by while my poor blog sits here alone and forgotten. To make up for the time it has taken me to write, I will share my new upload of the Coronation Mass, K. 317, written in 1779, along with some quotes about Mozart and a letter excerpt to brighten up the day. Enjoy!
In Bach, Beethoven and Wagner we admire principally the depth and energy of the human mind; in Mozart, the divine instinct.- Edvard Grieg
Mozart's music is free of all exaggeration, of all sharp breaks and contradictions. The sun shines but does not blind, does not burn or consume. Heaven arches over the earth, but it does not weigh it down, it does not crush or devour it. - Karl Barth
It is hard to think of another composer who so perfectly marries form and passion. - Leonard Bernstein
What a picture of a better world you have given us, Mozart! - Franz Schubert
W. A. Mozart - Krönungsmesse in C Major, K. 317
It seems here that Mozart learned a form of sign language. He writes to his sister Nannerl at the age of 15:
Milan, August 31, 1771.
My Dearest Sister,--
We are quite well, thank God! I have been eating quantities of fine pears, peaches, and melons in your place. My greatest amusement is to talk by signs to the dumb, which I can do to perfection. Herr Hasse [the celebrated opera composer] arrived here yesterday, and to-day we are going to pay him a visit. We only received the book of the Serenata last Thursday. I have very little to write about. Do not, I entreat, forget about THE ONE OTHER, where no other can ever be. You understand me, I know.
Anyone who knows more on this subject, please comment with your input and knowledge!
Contrary to popular belief, I have not fallen off the planet. I am alive and well, or, as well as a busy student can be. When the school year started, so did a horrible case of writer's block. There are some topics I would like to post about in the future, but I will need to do some more research first. Until then, I figured everyone can use a good laugh throughout the day, so I posted two of some of Mozart's most humorous letters, both written to his beloved sister Nannerl.
Year: 1770 Age: 14
...I only wish that my sister were in Rome, for this town would certainly please her, as St. Peter's church and many other things in Rome are regular. The most beautiful flowers are now being carried past in the street---so Papa has just told me. I am a fool, as everyone knows. Oh, I am having a hard time, for in our rooms there is only one bed and so Mamma can well imagine that I get no sleep with Papa......I have just now drawn St. Peter with his keys and with him St. Paul with his sword and St. Luke with my sister and so forth. I have had the honor of kissing St. Peter's foot in St. Peter's church and as I have the misfortune to be so small, I, that same old dunce
Wolfgang Mozart, had to be lifted up.
Year: 1772 Age: 16
I hope you are well, my dear sister. When you receive this letter, my dear sister, my opera will be being performed that same evening. Think of me, my dear sister, and do your best to imagine, my dear sister, that you are watching and hearing it too, my dear sister. Admittedly that is difficult, as it is already eleven o'clock; what's more, I believe beyond any doubt that during the day it is brighter than at Easter. My dear sister, tomorrow we dine at Herr von Mayer's, and why is this, do you think? Guess! Because he has invited us. Tomorrow's rehearsal is at the theater, but the impresario, Signor Castiglioni, has urged me not to say anything about it, because otherwise everybody will come rushing along, and we don't want that. So, my child, I beg you not to tell anyone anything about it. Otherwise too many people would come rushing along. That reminds me, do you know what happened here today? I'll tell you. We left Count Firmian's to go home and when we reached our street, we opened the front door and what do you suppose happened then? We went in. Goodbye, my little lung. I embrace you, my liver, and remain, my stomach, ever your unworthy brother,
Wolfgang
Please, my dear sister, something is biting me - please scratch me.
August 4, 1782 in Vienna, at Saint Stephen's Cathedral.
Wolfgang and Constanze's marriage certificate.
Saint Stephen's Cathedral in Vienna.
The inside of Saint Stephen's Cathedral.
They had a very happy marriage together. Wolfgang's letters to Constanze -- written either while he was out pursuing work, or while she was at the spa in Baden -- remain tender, loving, and even a bit silly up until the last one.
For instance, on April 13, 1789 while he was in Dresden, Wolfgang wrote a letter to Constanze and told her of all the silly things he would do with her little portrait while he was away from her:
If I were to tell you all the things that I do with your portrait, you would laugh heartily. For instance when I take it out of its prison house I say "God bless you, Stanzerl! God bless you, you little rascal, -- Krallerballer -- Sharpnose -- little Bagatelle!" And when I put it back I let it slip down slowly and gradually and say "Nu, -- Nu, -- Nu, -- Nu;" but with the emphasis which this highly significant word demands, and at the last, quickly: "Good-night, little Mouse, sleep well!" Now, I suppose, I have written down a lot of nonsense (at least so the world would think); but for us, who love each other so tenderly, it isn't altogether silly.
Then, on July 7, 1791, just five months before his death, Wolfgang wrote to his wife who was at the spa in Baden:
You can not imagine how slowly time goes when you are not with me! I can't describe the feeling; there is a sort of sense of emptiness, which hurts -- a certain longing which can not be satisfied, and hence never ends, but grows day by day. When I remember how childishly merry we were in Baden, and what mournful, tedious hours I pass here, my work gives me no pleasure, because it is not possible as was my wont, to chat a few words with you when stopping for a moment. If I go to the Clavier and sing something from the opera [Die Zauberflöte] I must stop at once because of my emotions. -- Basta!
No doubt, August 4, 1782 remained one of the happiest memories in Wolfgang and Constanze's lives.
Nannerl in 1763, wearing a dress given to her by Empress Maria Theresa when she and Wolfgang performed for her.
Mozart's sister, Maria Anna Walburga Ignatia Mozart, or Nannerl for short, was born on July 30, 1751 in Salzburg. She was the fourth child born to Leopold and Anna Maria Mozart, but the first to survive infancy.
Nannerl was one of Mozart's greatest heroes. As a child he would watch her play the piano and take lessons from Leopold, and then he would try to play her pieces. Like her brother, Nannerl was a child prodigy, but since she was a woman, she couldn't pursue a career like him.
On August 23, 1783, Nannerl married twice-widowed Johann Baptist Franz von Berchtold zu Sonnenburg and moved to St. Gilgen (the town where her mother was born). She took care of his five children and eventually had three of her own, two daughters and one son.
Nannerl in 1785.
Wolfgang often composed piano duets to perform with his sister while they were young. In 1765, at nine years old, he composed this piece, which the two performed together:
On October 29, 1829, Nannerl passed away in Salzburg, where she lived after her husband died in 1801.
Mozart's youngest son, Franz Xaver Wolfgang Mozart (also known as Wolfgang, Jr.), was born on July 26, 1791 in Vienna, around five months before his father's death. Franz Xaver's never really getting to know his father seemed to have no impact on his veneration for him. His whole life, Franz Xaver had a great devotion to his father's music. He not only inherited Mozart's love for music; he became a fine composer/musician himself, studying under several teachers...most notably Antonio Salieri.
In this video, one can certainly hear whose son he is! This is Franz Xaver Mozart's Violin Sonata in B Flat Major, 3rd Movement, Presto.
Franz Xaver passed away on July 29, 1844 in Karlsbad. His veneration for his father was so great that his tombstone reads:
May the name of his father be his epitaph, as his veneration for him was the essence of his life.
I finally obtained information about Bimperl/Bimbes/Bimpes/Pimperl the dog. From 1773 - 1777, the Mozarts kept a female fox terrier, called these four names by different members of the family. Wolfgang and Anna Maria usually called her Bimperl, Bimpes or Bimbes, while Nannerl and Leopold called her Pimperl. These are all various forms of the same name.
In 1777, Bimperl died and the Mozarts bought a male dog, giving him the same name. I found this information on the Mozart Forum.
We read in a letter from 14-year-old Wolfgang to his sister Nannerl on May 19, 1770 about a little canary that the Mozarts kept. He wrote:
Write me, how is Mr. Canary? Does he still sing? Does he still pipe? Do you know why I am thinking of the canary? Because there is one in our anteroom that makes the same little sounds as ours.
. . .
A Dog
Unfortunately, I can't seem to find much information on the dog that the Mozart family kept. Some sources say that it was a fox terrier.
Mozart family letters refer to a "Miss Bimbes", a "Bimperl", and a "Pimperl". After much research, it sounds to me like they are all the same dog, but sometimes it's hard to tell. If I can find out any more, be assured that I will post it.
In a letter dated August 21, 1773 (at age 17), Mozart wrote to his sister:
How is Miss Bimbes? Please present all manner of compliments to her.
In an October 1777 letter from Leopold to 21-year-old Wolfgang (who was in France with his mother at the time), we read:
As the weather is fine, [Nannerl and I] take an early walk every day with our faithful Bimperl, who is in splendid trim and only becomes very sad and obviously most anxious when we are both out of the house, for then she thinks that because she has lost you two, she is now going to lose us as well. So when we went to the ball and she saw us masked, she refused to leave Mitzerl, and, when we got home, she was so overjoyed that I thought she would choke. Moreover, when we were out, she would not stay on her bed in the room, but remained lying on the ground outside the porter's door. She would not sleep, but kept on moaning, wondering, I suppose, whether we should ever return.
Then, while Mozart was writing and rehearsing Idomoneo, K. 366, in 1780, he wrote to his father:
Give Pimperl a pinch of Spanish snuff, a good wine-biscuit, and three busses (kisses).
On May 27, 1784, Mozart noted in his expense book that he had bought a pet starling. In the same book he also wrote down a tune that the bird whistled for him, and noted, "That was beautiful!"
Besides the two G sharps, the notes are identical to the theme of the third movement to Mozart's 17th Piano Concerto, K. 453, which had been written earlier that year. It is unknown whether he taught this to the bird, or if the bird whistled it for him (having been taught the tune by someone else), and that is what made him buy it.
The bird died on June 4, 1787. Mozart wrote a sad little poem on the occasion and buried the bird in his back yard.
Mozart wrote to his wife, who was at the spa in Baden due to illness, in 1791:
Now as to my mode of life: As soon as you were gone I played two games of billiards with Herr von Mozart who wrote the opera for Schickaneder's theatre (The Magic Flute); then I sold my nag for fourteen ducats; then I had Joseph call my primus (valet)and bring a black coffee, to which I smoked a glorious pipe of tobacco...
Since his health was failing, Mozart's doctor advised him to buy a horse and ride every day. However, Mozart didn't care for the exercise and sold his horse.
Mozart's father Leopold was born on November 14, 1719 in Augsburg, Germany. He was very serious and extremely dedicated to his two children, especially his son. He was a very talented composer and violinist, and became famous throughout Europe when he published a book on how to play the instrument the same year that Wolfgang was born.
Leopold contributed greatly to his children's abilities, not just musically, but also academically, as he was both music instructor and teacher to his Wunderkinder as they toured all of Europe.
In April of 1787, Leopold became seriously ill, and on May 28th of that year, he passed away in Salzburg, Austria.
Sir Peter Shaffer said of his play Amadeus (and the screenplay for the 1984 motion picture), "[Amadeus is] a fantasia based on fact. It is not a screen biography of Mozart, and was never intended to be." In this post, I recall some scenes from the film and compare them to facts of the composer's life. Fact means, "the movie had this in it", Fiction means, "the movie either made this up, or changed it slightly". Fiction -After the premier of Die Entführung aus dem Serial, Mozart refers to his future mother-in-law, Frau Weber, as "my landlady". In reality, Mozart had been asked to leave the Weber boarding house 9 months before the opera's premier. (See Life.) Fact -Mozart did not get along with the Archbishop of Salzburg. The Archbishop mistreated him and eventually dismissed him. Fact/Fiction -Mozart married Constanze before his father's consent letter arrived in the mail. However, the movie makes it appear as if Leopold never consented to the marriage. Leopold was always somewhat cool toward Constanze, but he did consent to the marriage. Fiction -Although it would be foolish to say that a proud Austrian such as Mozart didn't enjoy alcoholic beverages, he certainly wasn't an alcoholic, as the movie portrays him to be near the end of his life. His favorite drink was punch, which his friends said he drank in large quantities. Fiction -Shortly before his death, Mozart slipped into unconsciousness and never awoke. This means that he probably died with his eyes closed, not open. Fact -Salieri and his co-workers did work secretly to make Le Nozze di Figaro a failure. They asked the performers to request impossible alterations on their parts, infuriating Mozart to the point of threatening to withdraw the entire opera. The Emporer Joseph II stepped in, then, and ordered that everything return to how it was. The performers ended up liking their parts and the opera was a success until a new Salieri opera overshadowed it. As the movie mentions, the opera was withdrawn after only nine performances. Fiction -Salieri did not kill Mozart, and it was not he who came to Mozart's door commissioning a Requiem Mass. In reality, the mysterious visitor was a messenger of the young Count Walsegg, who liked to commission pieces and pass them off as his own. Fact -Mozart loved billiards. In the movie there are many instances where he is playing or writing music at his billiards table. Mozart's good friend, tenor Michael Kelly, mentioned in his memoirs that he enjoyed countless games of billiards with him, and never won. Fiction -Mozart had not one child, but six. Unfortunately, only two survived to adulthood, Karl Thomas and Franz Xaver Wolfgang. Fiction -Salieri was not with Mozart when he died. Present during Mozart's last hours on earth were his wife Constanze, her sister Sophie and his doctor. Fiction -Constanze did not attend Mozart's funeral, which was held two days after his death, as she was too distraught. Fiction -Mozart did not call Constanze "Stanzi", but "Stanzerl". Fiction -As funny as it was in the movie, the Queen of Night aria in Die Zauberflöte was not inspired by Mozart's mother-in-law!
