On Friday there was a diary in which the author denigrated Mozart. This diary will not do so. I am beginning this shortly before 11:30 PM my time on January 26th. For me it is not yet his 250th birthday, although that significant day already began several hours ago in Salzburg, his town of birth (of which I have fond memories of our one visit together in an early January several decades ago).
Below I will offer a few words of appreciation for the body of work produced by this genius. For surely he was a genius. And I for one do not think the relative shortness of his life (although it was longer than those of Schubert and Bizet, and almost twice that of Arriaga) is necessary to elevate him into the highest level of musical geniuses. And as I write this I listen to his magnificent Requiem on XM Radio).
For those who do not know, I was a music major at Haverford, double majoring in music history and music theory (I graduated with 18 semester courses in Music, and had already begun a doctorate in musicology through our exchange program with UPenn). I grew up around music, having taught myself to read music at age 3. I began piano when I was around 4 1/2, and arranged for my own cello lessons when I was 7. I did not become a professional musician, although perhaps I could have, had I wished to focus solely on music (I teach social studies and coach soccer, as well as spend far too much time blogging and reading the online efforts of others). My life has never been absent music. I spent 8 summers at what was then called National Music Camp and was invited to be in the first class of the Interlochen Arts Academy for my senior year of high school.
I was in the Post Band at Quantico during my Marine service. I have made money in rock bands, playing folk music in Greenwich Village basket houses, conducted a cappella choirs in Orthodox churches and for community groups. Our collection of recordings in various formats probably now approaches 10,000, and I am eclectic in my tastes, having deep appreciations for jazz and blues, and even some love of certain "country" singers, especially Mary Chapin and Willie.
I cannot claim that I consider one composer the greatest. I find so much that deeply moves or inspires me. Certainly the pantheon would include the three B's, and there is much I love of Pyotr Illyitch Tschaikovsky. There are so many works that had I not experienced my life would be less. This range from the very early, such as Machaut, to the medievalist Dunstable, and Renaissance greats like Josquin, Lassus/Lasso, and Palestrina... Both Beethoven and Mozart considered Handel a great genius, and how can I argue with their musical judgment? Haydn had influence on both of the immediately aforementioned, and his masses, his symphonies, his piano sonatas, and especially his quartets give Franz Joseph a place of honor in my ears and fingers.
Mozart excelled in so many formats. Let's face it, he basically invented the piano concerto. His masses are often magnificent, and even while it is true that the Requiem as we know it is not fully his creation, there is enough that is still clearly his expression. And operas. Beethoven wrote one, Brahms none. Just that part of Mozart's output is magnficent. One of the great tragedies of my life -- truly -- is that on that same trip that took us to Salzburg we also went to Vienna, where I unfortunately got very sick, which meant we missed a chance to see Cosi fan Tutti conducted by Karl Bohm. Then there is Figaro -- I remember a memorable performance in NY. Magic Flute is simply amazing (even more so when performed by puppets, as we saw in Salzburg that trip). Iodemeneo, the Abduction from the Seraglio ... magnificent works in two different languages and several different styles.
I obtained the 170 CD collection of the complete works when Archive made them available at a reduced price. I have been working my way through them -- all the symphonies, then all the piano concerti .. I knew much of the music, but even some of the youthful pieces I had not previously heard blew me away.
One of the teachers who greatly influenced me at Haverford was William Heartt Reese, the long-time conductor of both the bi-college (with Bryn Mawr) orchestra and the men's glee club. I remember Bill Reese telling us once in a class that there were only two composers who had never written a bad note, his personal favorite Heinrich Schutz (born 100 years before Bach, and who went to Vienna to study with Gabrieli and brought back musical inspiration to Germany) and Mozart. Were one to compare manuscripts, Beethoven's are full of cross-outs and corrections, false starts and restarts. Brahms has some corrections. Mozart rarely makes corrections. The work seemed to go from his brain through his hand directly to the manuscript, fully complete.
His writing for the human voice is simply astounding. Sometime LISTEN to the something like the parts of the Requiem or other sacred works where the soloists are feature, either alone or together. There may not be that many notes, but there is an incredibly fullness in the simplicity, the clarity.
Or consider the last movement of K551, his 41st symphony in C Major, the "Jupiter." He does counterpoint with 5 distinct themes. And at the end he has all 5 working together. it is incredible musical writing. There is in fact little comparable in all of Western music. For sheer genius in achieving something almost intellectually impossible (to have all the voices and different themes work together) I can only think of the vocal writing Verdi shows in Rigoletto. One encounters similar things in the operas, time and again.
or what of the incredible clarity of the Clarinet Quintet? Or the two incredible string quintets (especially the G-minor), probably so magnificent because Mozart's preferred string instrument was the viola?
I am still listening to the Requiem. But as I write this my mind hears the sounds abosrbed by my ears, but also returns to me bits and pieces of other works by old Wolfgang. The - how shall I describe them -- astonishing occasional pieces called each called a Divertimento. The title implies something trifling, casual, and yet the writing is superb, the effect on both player and listener often astounding.
The Requiem is now about to end. A piece in which Mozart pays tribute to Handel, using muscif from Messiah as the basis for his own writing, music I hear write now "Cum Sancti Spiritu" -- and able also to remember the "With His stripes He healed" from Handel. The same music Mozart uses near the beginning in the Kyrie.
It is now midnight. It is his birthday. 10 days ago I dressed up as Ben Franklin for that gentleman's 300th. I would similarly honor Wolfgang tomorrow, except that I have a guest speaker, Chuck Todd of Hotline is coming in the morning to talk with my AP Government kids. So instead I will post this, only here at dailykos. And as soon as I do, I will lift a glass of brandy in honor of a genius who has inspired me for at least the last 57 years.
Perhaps you do not understand my appreciation of Mozart. Maybe you simply do not share my high opinion of his music. I would hope that you would take the time to listen,with patience, with open ears. If you are not moved, I would worry that you might limit your soul.
But I will not criticize. For my task is not to criticize others, but rather to honor. Happy 250th birthday, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.