Life of Mozart Volume 2 — CHAPTER XIX. PARIS, 1778, Part 1

CHAPTER XIX. PARIS, 1778.

SUCH was the condition of musical affairs at the time of Mozart's arrival in Paris.

The successes on either side, and the violence of partisan controversy, had, as might have been expected, prevented any decisive conclusion of the dispute.

We know now that Gluck remained master of the field, and that the influence of Lully and Rameau sinking henceforth into oblivion, Gluck determined the character of French opera in all its essential points as it still exists, in spite of its many Italian modifications.

But at the time of {UNFAVOURABLE PROSPECTS.

} (35) which we are speaking the Gluckists and Piccinnists were carrying on the warfare with greater bitterness than ever, and the old national party, although pushed into the background, was seeking to free itself from both influences.

[1] The interest of the public was more eagerly excited than ever, but, as usual, more for the sake of the literary scandal and personal animosity than with any love of art, and when audiences flocked to the opera they desired not to enjoy but to participate in what was going on.

This was an unfortunate state of things for a young composer whose object was to acquire an honourable position for himself; he must, in order to be heard at all, attach himself to one or other party, and so lose his independence, the only true foundation of excellence.

To put an end to the dispute by forcing the combatants to acknowledge a success greater than that of either was at this juncture beyond the power of even a transcendent genius; and Mozart brought nothing with him to Paris but his genius.

He had failed in obtaining an introduction to the Queen Marie Antoinette from Vienna, and access to the circle of the nobility was no easy matter.

Mozart had little to expect from the support of his fellow-artists, for they were all ranged against each other, and had enough to do to fight their own battles.

Gluck had left Paris when Mozart entered it; he renewed his acquaintance with Piccinni, whom he had known in Italy (Vol. I.

, p. 111), and was polite in his greetings when he met him at the Concert Spirituel and elsewhere; but there the intercourse ended.

"I know my affairs, and he his, and that suffices" (July 9, 1778).

We find no traces of any acquaintance with Grétry, who never mentions Mozart in his "Mémoires."

He was resigned to professional envy, and had already experienced his full share of it; but in Paris at that time the "gens de lettres" were the arbiters of taste and fashion.

Pamphlets and critical articles, epigrams and _bon mots_, proceeding from {PARIS, 1778.

} (36) the literary circle, ruled public opinion, and a thorough knowledge of music was, as a rule, the last requirement thought of by those who strove to influence its progress.

It was a new world to Wolfgang, in which he would have found it difficult to move successfully and uprightly, even if he had gained access to its favour.

Grimm, who might have introduced him, was himself a partisan, and esteemed only by his own party; besides which, he could not fail soon to discover that Mozart was the last man in the world for this kind of intercourse.

Nevertheless, he received him very kindly, and sought to make him known wherever he could; they were always quite of accord in their opinions of French music.

"Baron Grimm and I," writes Mozart (April 5, 1778), "often pour out our wrath over the music of the present day, but in private, be it understood; in public, it is all 'bravo, bravissimo,' and clapping one's hands till the fingers burn."

And in another letter he says: "What annoys me is that the French have improved their taste just enough to enable them to listen to good music.

But their own is still very bad.

Ay!

upon my word, but it is!

and their singing!

_oime!

_ If they would only let Italian songs alone, I could forgive their Frenchified chirruping; but it is really unpardonable so to spoil good music."

Mozart's outward circumstances were not pleasant.

In order to economise (for his mother found everything in Paris half as dear again as elsewhere) they took a dark, uncomfortable lodging, so small that Wolfgang could not get his clavier into it.

But their life was rendered considerably more cheerful by the presence of their Mannheim friends.

"Wendling," writes the mother (April 5) (there is no more talk of his irreligion), "has prepared Wolfgang's way for him, and has now introduced him to all his friends.

He is a true benefactor, and M. von Grimm has promised him to use all his influence, which is greater than Wendling's, to make Wolfgang known."

In Paris, too, Mozart became better acquainted with Raaff, and learned to value him as an artist and as a friend.

This was greatly owing to the interest Raaff took in the Weber family; he appreciated {WOLFGANG'S HOPES AND FEARS.

} (37) Aloysia's talents, promised to give her lessons, and approved of Mozart's liking for her; this was all the greater consolation since he dared not speak openly on the subject to his father, although he did not attempt to conceal his correspondence with the Weber family.

Nor could his wishes and feelings fail to be perceived when he wrote (July 3, 1778):-- I have never been backward, and never will be.

I will always use my powers to the uttermost.

God can make all things good.

I have something in my mind, for which I pray to God daily; if it is His Divine will it will come to pass; if not, I am content.

I have at least done my best.

If all goes well, and things turn out as I wish, then you must do your share, or the whole business will fall through; I trust to your kindness to do it.

Do not attempt to discover my meaning, for the immediate favour I have to beg of you is to let me keep my ideas to myself until the right time comes.

He does not seem to have been very hopeful (March 29, 1778) I am pretty well, thank God: but for the rest, I often scarcely know or care for anything; I am quite indifferent, and take little pleasure in anything.

What most supports and invigorates me is the thought that you, dear father, and my dear sister are safe and well, that I am an honest German; and that although I cannot always say what I like, I can always think what I like--which is the main point.

In a mood like this the encouragement of musical compatriots would be doubly grateful to him.

This was freely bestowed on him by the ambassador from the Palatinate, Count von Sickingen, to whom Gemmingen and Cannabich had given him letters, and Raaff a personal introduction:-- He is a charming man, a passionate lover and true judge of music.

I

spent eight hours with him quite alone; we were at the clavier morning and afternoon, and up to ten o'clock in the evening, all the time making, praising, admiring, altering, discussing, and criticising nothing but music: he has about thirty operatic scores.

He maintained this acquaintance zealously, often dining with the Count, and spending the evening over his own compositions with so much interest that the time went without their knowing it (June 12, 1778).

{PARIS, 1778.

} (38) The Mannheim friends were engaged for the Concert Spirituel, which had been founded in 1725. Anne Danican Philidor, elder brother to the composer already mentioned, was accorded the privilege, on payment of a fixed sum, of giving about four-and-twenty concerts in the course of the year, on festivals when there was no grand opera.

They were given in a hall of the Tuileries, and consisted of instrumental music, and sacred or classical compositions for chorus or solo singing.

[2] Wolfgang was introduced to the director, Jean le Gros (1739-1793), and at once received from him a commission, with which he acquaints his father (April 5, 1778).

The kapellmeister, Holzbauer, has sent a Miserere; but the Mannheim chorus being weak and bad, while here it is good and strong, his choruses make no effect; therefore M. le Gros has commissioned me to write other choruses.

Holzbauer's introductory chorus remains; the first by me is "Quoniam iniquitatem meam ego," &c. , allegro; the second, adagio, "Ecce enim in iniquitatibus"; then, allegro, "Ecce enim veritatem dilexisti," up to "ossa humiliata."

Then an andante for soprano, tenor and bass soli, "Cor mundum créa"; and "Redde mihi lætitiam," allegro as far as "te convertentur."

Then I have done a recitative for the basses, "Libera me de sanguinibus," because it is followed by a bass song by Holzbauer, "Domine, labia mea."

In the same way, because "Sacrificium Deo, spiritus" is an andante tenor air for Raaff, with solo oboe and bassoon, I have added a little recitative, "Quoniam si voluisses," also with oboe and bassoon concertante: recitatives are very much in vogue here.

"Benigne fac" up to "muri Jerusalem," andante moderato, chorus.

Then "Tunc acceptabis" to "super altare tuum vitulos," allegro, tenor solo (Le Gros), and chorus together.

[3] I must say I am glad I have finished this work, for it is confoundedly awkward when one is in a hurry with work and cannot write at home.

But it is finished, thank God, and will, I think, make an effect.

M.

Gossec, whom you must know, told M. Le Gros, after seeing my first chorus, that it was charming, and would certainly tell in performance; that the words were well arranged, and admirably set to music.

He is a good friend of mine, but a dry, reserved man.

That this scampering work (for Mozart was only a few {COMPOSITIONS FOR THE CONCERT SPIRITUEL}

(39) days over it) should form his _début_ before the French public caused his father great uneasiness; but it was uncalled for, for in his next letter Wolfgang informs him (March 1, 1778) I must tell you, by the way, that my chorus work came to nothing.

Holzbauer's Miserere is too long as it is, and did not please; besides which, they only performed two of my choruses instead of four, and left out the best.

It did not much matter, for many people did not know that they were mine, and many more never heard of me.

Notwithstanding, they were highly applauded at rehearsal, and, what is more important (for I do not think much of Parisian applause), I liked them myself.

Another work was occasioned by the presence of the Mannheim performers, with whom was associated the celebrated hornist, Joh.

Punto (1748-1803), who in Mozart's opinion "played magnificently."

Mozart set to work at a Sinfonie Concertante for flute (Wendling), oboe (Ramm), French horn (Punto), and bassoon (Ritter), which was to be performed at one of the concerts.

But he was soon obliged to write to his father (May 1, 1778):-- There is another "hickl-hackl" with the Sinfonie Concertante.

I believe there is something behind, for I have my enemies here, as where have I not had them?

It is a good sign, however.

I was obliged to write the symphony in great haste, worked hard at it, and thoroughly satisfied the four performers.

Le Gros had it four days for copying, and I always found it lying in the same place.

At last, the day but one before the concert, I did not find it; searched about among the music, and found it hidden away.

I could do nothing but ask Le Gros, "_A propos_, have you given the Sinfonie Concertante to be copied?"

"No, I forgot it."

Of course I could not order him to have it copied and played, so said nothing.

The day it should have been performed I went to the concert;

Ramm and Punto came up to me in a rage, and asked why my sinfonie concertante was not played.

"I do not know; this is the first I have heard of it."

Ramm was furious, and abused Le Gros in French, saying that it was unhandsome of him, &c. What annoyed me most in the whole affair was Le Gros not telling me a word about it, as if I was to know nothing of it.

If he had only made an apology, that the time was too short, or anything; but no, not a word.

[4] I think Cambini, an Italian {PARIS, 1778.

} (40) composer here, is at the bottom of it, for I was the innocent cause of his being extinguished on his first introduction to Le Gros.

He has written some pretty quartets, one of which I had heard at Mannheim; I praised it to him, and played the beginning; Ritter, Ramm, and Punto were there, and they left me no peace, insisting that I should go on, and make up myself what I could not remember.

So I did it, and Cambini was quite beside himself, and could not refrain from saying, "Questa è una gran testa!"

But it must have been sorely against the grain with him.

The father was of the same opinion, and warned Wolfgang that Cambini would not be the only one who would seek to injure him; but he must not allow himself to be disconcerted (April 29, 1778).

Wolfgang expressed himself with considerable dissatisfaction:-- If this were a place where the people had ears to hear, and a heart to feel, and just a little understanding and taste for music, I would laugh from my heart at all these things; but, as far as music is concerned, I am among a set of dolts and blockheads.

How can it be otherwise?

They are just the same in all their transactions, love-affairs, and passions.

There is no place in the world like Paris.

You must not think that I exaggerate in speaking so of the music here.

Ask whom you will (only not a native Frenchman), and they will tell you the same.

Well, I am here, and must make the best of it, for your sake.

I shall thank the Almighty if I come out of it with unvitiated taste.

I pray to God daily to give me grace to stand firm, and do honour to myself and the German nation, and that He will grant me success, so that I may make plenty of money, help you out of all your present troubles, and that we may meet once more, and all live happily together again.

Through the good offices of Grimm, Mozart was recommended to the Duc de Guines, who had been recalled from his post as Ambassador in London after his notorious lawsuit with secretary Tort[5] in 1776, and stood high in favour with the Queen.

[6] L.

Mozart wrote (March 28, 1778):[7]-- My dear Son,--I beg that you will do your best to gain the friendship of the Duc de Guines, and to keep well with him; I have frequently read in the papers of his high place in the royal favour; the Queen being now _enceinte_, there are sure to be grand festivities when the child is born; you may get something to do, and make your fortune; for in these cases everything depends upon the pleasure of the Queen.

{CONCERTO IN C MAJOR.

} (41) The Duke was amusing and fond of music;[8] as Mozart himself says, he played the flute inimitably, and his daughter the harp magnificently.

[9] He gave Mozart a commission to compose a concerto for flute and harp.

These were exactly the two instruments which Mozart could not endure.

[10] But this did not prevent his accomplishing his task to the perfect satisfaction of the Duke.

The concerto (299 K. ) is in C major, with accompaniments for a small orchestra, and consists of the usual three movements.

In conformity with the nature of the instruments the character of the concerto is cheerful and graceful, and it is excellent of its kind.

Each movement is well and compactly formed, and has an abundance of rich melody, enhanced in effect by the harmonic treatment, the varied character of the accompaniment, and the alternation of the solo instruments.

The thematic treatment is only lightly sketched in so as to keep the interest alive; but in the middle movement of the first part the harmonic arrangement betrays a master-hand; at its close a fresh melody is introduced, as was then the rule, in order to excite the attention anew.

Especially graceful and tender is the Andantino, accompanied only by a quartet.

The solo instruments are brilliant without being particularly difficult; the orchestra is discreetly made use of to support the delicate solo instruments without interfering with their effect; but the easy setting _ä jour_ is elaborated in detail with great skill and decision, both as regards the sound effects and the passages and turns of the accompaniment.

Besides this, Mozart gave the Duke's daughter two hours' lessons in composition daily, for which generous payment might be expected.

He describes the lessons minutely (May 14, 1778):-- She has talent and even genius, but especially has she a marvellous memory: she knows two hundred pieces, and can play them all by heart.

"Once when we were talking of instruments, Mozart said that he detested the harp and the flute."

{PARIS, 1778.

} (42) She is, however, very doubtful whether she has any talent for composition, particularly as regards ideas and imagination; but her father--who, between ourselves, is a little infatuated about her--says she has plenty of ideas, but is over-modest, and has too little confidence in herself.

Well, we shall see.

If she does not get any ideas or imagination (at present she has absolutely none) it is all in vain, for, God knows, I cannot give them to her.

Her father has no intention of making her into a great composer.

"I do not wish her," says he, "to write operas, concertos, songs, or symphonies, but only grand sonatas for her instrument and mine."

To-day I gave her her fourth lesson, and, as far as regards the rules of composition and exercises, I am fairly satisfied.

She has supplied a very good bass to the first minuet which I set her.

She is beginning now to write in three parts.

She does it, but she gets _ennuyée_.

I cannot help it, for I cannot possibly take her farther.

Even if she had genius it would be too soon, and unhappily she has none--everything must be done artificially.

She has no ideas, and so nothing comes of it.

I have tried her in every sort of way.

Among other things, it came into my head to write down a very simple minuet, and to try if she could write a variation on it.

No; it was in vain.

"Well," I thought, "she does not know how to begin;" so I began to vary the first bar, and told her to go on with it, and keep the same idea; and at last she managed it.

When that was done, I told her to begin something herself, only the first part of a melody.

She reflected for a quarter of an hour, but nothing came of it.

Then I wrote the first four bars of a minuet, and said, "See what a donkey I am; I have begun a minuet, and cannot even finish the first part.

Be so kind as to do it for me."

She thought it was impossible.

At last, after much trouble, something came to light; and I was very glad of it.

Then I made her complete the minuet--only the first part, of course.

I have given her nothing to do at home but to alter my four bars, and make something out of them--to invent a new beginning, even if the harmony is the same, so long as the melody is altered.

I shall see to-morrow what she has made of it.

The father was justly astonished at the demands made by Wolfgang on the talent of his pupil, and on the earnestness with which he threw himself into his task (May 28,1778):-- You write that you have just given Mdlle.

de Guines her fourth lesson, and you want her to write down her own ideas; do you think that everybody has your genius?

It will come in time.

She has a good memory;

let her _steal,_ or more politely, _adapt_; it does no harm at the beginning, until courage comes.

Your plan of variations is a good one, only persevere.

If M. le Duc sees anything, however small, by his daughter, he will be delighted.

It is really an excellent acquaintance.

But Wolfgang had not the art of cultivating such {LIFE IN PARIS.

} (43) acquaintances any more than of giving lessons in composition to young ladies of no talent; he wrote later that she was thoroughly stupid and thoroughly lazy (July 9, 1778), and in conclusion the Duke offered him two louis-d'or, which he indignantly rejected.

He had some other pupils, and might have had more had not the distances in Paris been so great that his time was too much curtailed thereby; he complains (July 31, 1778):-- It is no joke to give lessons here.

You must not think that it is laziness; no!

but it is quite against my nature, my way of life.

You know that I, so to speak, live in music; that I am busy at it the whole day, planning, studying, considering.

Lessons come in the way of this;

I shall certainly have some hours free, but I need them rather for rest than for work.

Highly distasteful to him also were visits to people of rank, and attempts to gain their favour.

He enumerates all the disagreeables of it (May 1, 1778):-- You write that I should pay plenty of visits to make new acquaintances and renew old ones.

It is really impossible.

To go on foot takes too long and makes one too dirty, for Paris is inconceivably filthy; and to drive costs four or five livres a day, and all for nothing; the people pay compliments and nothing more; engage me for such or such a day, and then I play, and they say "Oh!

c'est un prodige, c'est inconcevable, c'est étonnant!"

and then adieu.

I have already spent money enough in that way, and often uselessly, for the people have been out.

No one can know the annoyance of it who is not here.

Paris is very much altered;

the French are not nearly so polite as they were fourteen years ago;

they approach very near to rudeness now, and are dreadfully arrogant.

The example which he gives his father sufficiently justifies his complaints, and is as significant of the impertinence of the nobility towards artists as of Mozart's powerlessness to resent such behaviour:-- M.

Grimm gave me a letter to Madame la Duchesse de Chabot,[11] and I went there.

The purport of the letter was principally to recommend me {PARIS, 1778.

} (44) to the Duchesse de Bourbon[12] (then in a convent),[13] and to bring me again to her remembrance.

A week passed without any notice taken; but, as she had already commanded my presence in that time, I went.

I was left to wait half an hour in an icily cold, very large room, with no stove or means of heating it.

At last the Duchesse de Chabot came in, and politely begged me to make allowances for the clavier, since she had none in good order; would I try it?

I said I should have been delighted to play something, but that I could not feel my fingers for the cold, and I begged her to allow me to go to a room where at least there was a stove.

"Oh, oui, monsieur; vous avez raison," was her only answer.

Then she sat down and began to draw for at least an hour with some other gentlemen, who all sat round a great table.

I had the honour of standing waiting this hour.

The doors and windows were open; very soon, not only my hands, but my feet and whole body were stiff with cold, and my head began to ache.

No one spoke to me, and I did not know what to do for cold, headache, and fatigue.

At last, to cut it short, I played on the wretched, miserable pianoforte.

The most vexatious part of all was that Madame and all the gentlemen went on with their employment without a moment's pause or notice, so that I played for the walls and chairs.

All these things put together were too much for my patience.

I began the Fischer variations, played the half, and got up.

Then followed no end of _éloges_.

I said what was quite true, that I could do myself no credit with such a clavier, and that I should be very pleased to appoint another day when I could have a better clavier.

But she did not consent, and I was obliged to wait another half-hour, till her husband came in.

[14] But he sat down beside me, and listened with all attention; and then I--I forgot cold, and headache, and annoyance, and played on the wretched clavier as you know I can play when I am in a good humour.

Give me the best clavier in Europe, but with an audience who do not or will not understand and feel with me when I play, and I lose all pleasure in it.

I told the whole affair to M. Grimm.

Wolfgang tells his father (May 14, 1778) of a prospect of a settled position, in which, however, he was disappointed:-- Rudolph (the French horn-player) is in the royal service here, and very friendly to me.

He has offered me the place of organist at Versailles, if I like to take it.

It brings in 2,000 livres a year, but I should have to live six months at Versailles, the other six where I {OFFER OF COURT SERVICE.

} (45) chose.

I must ask the advice of my friends, for 2,000 livres is no such great sum.

It would be if it were in German coin, but not here; it makes 83 louis-d'or and 8 livres a year; that is, 915 florins 45 kreutzers of our money (a large sum), but only 333 dollars and 2 livres here, which is not much.

It is dreadful how soon a dollar goes!

I cannot be surprised at people thinking so little of a louis-d'or here, for it is very little; four dollars, or a louis-d'or, which is the same thing, are gone directly.

His father, who considered a settled position of such importance that a certain amount of concession should be made for it, advised him to reflect well on the proposal, if indeed Rudolph (1730-1812), who had been a member of the band since 1763, had sufficient influence to bring it about (May 28, 1778):-- You must not reject it at once.

You must consider that the 83 louis-d'or are earned in six months; that you have half the year for other work;

that it probably is a permanent post, whether you are ill or well; that you can give it up when you like; that you are _at Court, consequently_ daily under the eyes of the King and Queen, and so much the nearer your fortune; that you may be promoted to one of the two kapellmeisters' places; that in time, if promotion is the rule, you may become clavier-master to the royal family, which would be a lucrative post;

that there would be nothing to hinder your writing for the theatre, concert spirituel, &c. , and printing music with dedications to your grand acquaintance among the ministers who frequent Versailles, especially in summer; that Versailles itself is a small town, or at all events, has many respectable inhabitants, among whom pupils would surely be found; and that, finally, this is the surest way to the favour and protection of the queen.

Read this to the Baron von Grimm, and ask his opinion.

But Grimm took Wolfgang's view of the matter, expressed in his answer to his father (July 3, 1778):-- My inclination has never turned towards Versailles; I took the advice of Baron Grimm, and others of my best friends, and they all thought with me.

It is small pay.

I should have to waste half the year in a place where nothing else could be earned, and where my talents would be buried.

For to be in the royal service is to be forgotten in Paris--and then to be only organist!

I should like a good post extremely, but nothing less than kapellmeister--and well paid.

Mozart's absorbing desire was to have an opportunity of distinguishing himself as a composer, above all things by an opera.

There seemed a fair prospect of doing this soon {PARIS, 1778.

} (46) after his arrival in Paris.

He had renewed his acquaintance with Noverre (p. 145), who, after giving up the direction of the ballet at Vienna in 1775, had, through the Queen's influence, been appointed ballet-master to the Grand-Opéra in 1776. [15] He took such a liking for Mozart that he not only invited him to his table as often as he chose, but commissioned him to write an opera.

He proposed as a good subject, "Alexander and Roxane," and set a librettist to work at the adaptation of it.

The first act was ready at the beginning of April; and a month later Mozart was in hopes of receiving the whole text.

It had then to be submitted to the approbation of the director of the Grand-Opéra, De Vismes; but this did not seem to offer any difficulty, Noverre's influence being powerful with the director.

As soon as L. Mozart heard of the prospect of an opera, he wrote (April 12, 1778):-- I strongly advise you, before writing for the French stage, to hear their operas, and find what pleases them.

In this way you will become quite a Frenchman, and I hope you will be specially careful to accustom yourself to the proper accent of the language.

And he continues to impress upon him (April 29, 1778):-- Now that you tell me you are about to write an opera, follow my advice, and reflect that your whole reputation hangs on your first piece.

Listen before you write, and study the national taste; listen to their operas, and examine them.

I know your wonderful powers of imitation.

Do not write hurriedly--no sensible composer does that.

Study the words beforehand with Baron von Grimm and Noverre; make sketches, and let them hear them.

It is always done: Voltaire reads his poems to his friends, hears their judgments, and follows their suggestions.

Your honour and profit depend upon it; and as soon as we have money we will go to Italy again.

Wolfgang was aware of the difficulties which lay before him, especially with regard to the language and the vocalists, and expressed himself energetically on both points (July 9, 1778) If I do get as far as writing an opera, I shall have trouble enough over it; that I do not mind, for I am used to it, if only this cursed French {PROSPECTS OF AN OPERA, 1778.

} (47) language were not so utterly opposed to music!

It is truly miserable;

German is divine in comparison.

And then the vocalists, male and female!

they have no right to the name, for they do not sing, but shriek and howl, and all from the nose and the throat.

In spite of all this, he was eager to set to work (July 31, 1778):-- I assure you that I shall be only too pleased if I do succeed in writing an opera.

The language is the invention of the devil, that is true; and the same difficulties are before me that beset all composers; but I feel as well able as any one else to surmount them; in fact, when I tell myself that all goes well with my opera, I feel a fire within me, and my limbs tingle with the desire to make the French know, honour, and fear the German nation more.