Happy Birthday!

        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!

       

Rest In Peace

      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."

     May Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart rest in peace!

Amadeus DVD Giveaway Drawing!

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Hurry...Contest ends January 22, 2012!

Rest In Peace, Mozart!

The beloved composer died on this day, 220 years ago.

May his music live on forever!

Mozart's Wedding Day

Wolfgang and Constanze were married on

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.