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

In the meantime L. Mozart heard that at the very time when Noverre was interesting himself so warmly in Wolfgang's opera, he had engaged him to write the music for a ballet which was coming out (May 14, 1778).

When, after a considerable lapse of time, the father inquired what had become of this ballet, and what he had made by it, Wolfgang had almost forgotten the subject (July 9, 1778):-- As to Noverre's ballet, I only wrote that perhaps he would be making a new one.

He just wanted half a ballet, and for that I provided the music; that is, there were six pieces by other people in it, consisting of poor, miserable French songs; I did the overture and contredanses, altogether about twelve pieces.

The ballet has been performed four times with great applause.

[16] But now I mean to do nothing without being sure beforehand what I am to get for it, for this was only as a good turn to Noverre.

But such "good turns" were precisely what Noverre had in view.

It suited him, as it did Le Gros, to have at command the services of a young artist eager to compose and ready to accept hope and patronage in lieu of payment, whose name it was not necessary to risk bringing before the public, since he was only employed as a stop-gap.

But it would be a very different and far more serious thing for them to bring forward an original work, such as an opera, by this {PARIS, 1778.

} (48) same unknown young man.

In case of failure the protectors would share the responsibilities of the _protégé_, while success would bring fame and profit to the latter alone.

Nothing shows more clearly Mozart's unsuspecting nature than his explanation of the long delay of his libretto (July 9, 1778):-- It is always so with an opera.

It is so hard to find a good poem; the old ones, which are the best, are not in the modern style, and the new ones are good for nothing; for poetry, which was the only thing the French had to be proud of, gets worse every day, and the poetry of the opera is just the part that must be good, for they do not understand the music.

There are only two operas _in aria_ which I could write--one in two acts, the other in three.

The one in two acts is "Alexander and Roxane," but the poet who is writing it is still in the country.

That in three acts is "Demofoonte" (by Metastasio), translated and mixed with choruses and dances, and specially arranged for the French theatre» and this I have not yet been able to see.

The father saw through it all more plainly, and cautioned Wolfgang, if he wanted to succeed with an opera in Paris, to make himself known beforehand (August 27, 1778):-- You must make a name for yourself.

When did Gluck, when did Piccinni, when did all these people come forward?

Gluck is not less than sixty, and it is twenty-six or twenty-seven years since he was first spoken of;

and can you really imagine that the French public, or even the manager of the theatre, can be convinced of your powers of composition without having heard anything by you in their lives, or knowing you, except in your childhood as an excellent clavier-player and precocious genius?

You must exert yourself, and make yourself known as a composer in every branch; make opportunities, and be indefatigable in making friends and in urging them on; wake them up when their energies slacken, and do not take for granted that they have done all they say they have.

I should have written long ago to M. de Noverre if I had known his title and address.

But this way of pushing his talents was completely foreign to Wolfgang's nature; and so it followed, in the natural course of things, that after a delay of months Noverre declared that he might be able to help him to a libretto, but could not insure the opera being performed when it was ready.

One success, however, was to be granted him in Paris.

He had naturally ceased to visit Le Gros since the latter {PARISIAN SYMPHONY.

} (49) had so ruthlessly rejected his Sinfonie Concertante, but had been every day with Raaff, who lived in the same house.

He had chanced to meet Le Gros there, who made the politest apologies, and begged him again to write a symphony for the Concert Spirituel.

How could Mozart resist such a petition?

On June 12 he took the symphony which he had just finished to Count Sickingen, where Raaff was.

He continues:-- They were both highly pleased.

I myself am quite satisfied with it.

Whether it will please generally I do not know; and, truth to say, I care very little; for whom have I to please?

The _very few_ intelligent Frenchmen that there are I can answer for; as for the stupid ones, it does not signify much whether they are pleased or not.

But I am in hopes that even the donkeys will find something to admire.

I have not omitted the _premier coup d'archet!

_--and that is enough for them.

What a fuss they make about that, to be sure!

_Was Teufel!

_ I see no difference.

They just begin together, as they do elsewhere.

It is quite ludicrous.

[17] The symphony pleased unusually, however, as he tells his father (July 3, 1778):-- It was performed on Corpus Christi day with all applause.

I hear that a notice of it has appeared in the "Courrier de l'Europe."

I was very unhappy over the rehearsal, for I never heard anything worse in my life;

you cannot imagine how they scraped and scrambled over the symphony twice.

I was really unhappy; I should like to have rehearsed it again, but there are so many things, that there was no time.

So I went to bed with a heavy heart and a discontented and angry spirit.

The day before, I decided not to go to the concert; but it was a fine evening, and I determined at last to go, but with the intention, if it went as ill as at the rehearsal, of going into the orchestra, taking the violin out of the hands of M. La Houssaye, and conducting myself.

I prayed for God's grace that it might go well, for it is all to His honour and glory; and, _ecce!

_ the symphony began.

Raaff stood close to me, and {PARIS, 1778.

} (50) in the middle of the first allegro was a passage that I knew was sure to please; the whole audience was struck, and there was great applause.

I knew when I was writing it that it would make an effect, so I brought it in again at the end, _da capo_.

The andante pleased also, but especially the last allegro.

I had heard that all the last allegros here, like the first, begin with all the instruments together, and generally in unison; so I began with the violins alone _piano_ for eight bars, followed at once by a _forte_.

The audience (as I had anticipated) cried "Hush!"

at the _piano_ but directly the _forte_ began they took to clapping.

As soon as the symphony was over I went into the Palais-Royal, took an ice, told my beads as I had vowed, and went home.

So brilliant a success was not wanting in more lasting results: "M. Le Qros has taken a tremendous fancy to me," he writes (July 9, 1778); and he was commissioned to write a French oratorio for performance at the Concert Spirituel during the following Lent:-- My symphony was unanimously applauded; and Le Gros is so pleased with it that he calls it his best symphony.

[18] Only the andante does not hit his taste; he says there are too many changes of key in it, and it is too long; but the real truth is that the audience forgot to clap their hands so loud as for the first and last movements; the andante is more admired than any other part by myself, and by all connoisseurs, as well as by the majority of the audience; it is just the contrary of what Le Gros says, being unaffected and short.

But for his satisfaction (and that of others, according to him) I have written another.

Either is good of its kind, for they differ greatly; perhaps, on the whole, I prefer the second one.

The symphony (297 K. ), well known, by the name of the French or Parisian Symphony, was repeated with the new andante on August 15. It consists of three movements in the customary form, except that none of the parts are repeated entire, although they are perfectly distinct.

This was a concession to the Parisian taste.

Wolfgang writes to his father (September 11, 1778) that his earlier symphonies would not please there: "We in Germany have a taste for lengthy performances, but in point of fact, it is better to be short and {PARISIAN SYMPHONY.

} (51) good," The first and last movements are unusually animated and restless, with an almost unbroken rapidity of movement; and the different subjects offer no contrasts as to character, being all in the same light, restless style.

Thematic elaboration is only hinted at, except in the well worked-out middle movement of the finale.

Melodies are scattered through the whole in great abundance, often connected with each other in a highly original and attractive manner.

Suspense is kept up by strong contrasts of forte and piano, by sudden breaks and imperceptible modulations, and by striking harmonic effects.

The general impression given by both movements is animated and brilliant, but they are more calculated to stir the intellect than to awaken the deeper emotions, and are therefore well suited to a Parisian audience.

The same is the case with the tender and beautiful andante, which only now and then, surreptitiously as it were, betrays the existence of deep feeling.

There are, as has been seen, two versions of the andante, both still existing in Mozart's handwriting--the second considerably shorter than the first.

The leading part is minutely given throughout the score of the whole piece (which is marked andantino), besides a fixed subject being indicated for the bass, and in some places for the other instruments.

After thus laying down, as it were, the ground plan, he proceeded to details, making few alterations beyond some slight abbreviations.

When, in working out the movement, he came to a passage which seemed to him tedious or superfluous, he struck it out, and went on with the next.

This has been the case with several unimportant passages, and with one longer one, a transition to the theme by means of an imitative passage (after page 36, bar 6, of the score); soon after, too, a middle passage with flute and oboe solos is cut out.

After thus elaborating the movement, he hastily copied it all, as it is now printed.

[19] The later andante is printed in a Parisian edition of the symphony;[20] it is far less important than the first, and was {PARIS, 1778.

} (52) rightly rejected by Mozart.

It is worthy of remark that the violoncello is employed as a leading instrument.

The orchestral workmanship shows that Mozart had not listened to the Mannheim band in vain; the different instruments form a well-ordered whole, in which each has its individual significance.

It is only necessary to examine the thematic arrangement in the last movement (score, page 54) to perceive how skilfully the effect of varied tone-colouring is taken into account, while at the same time, by means of contrapuntal treatment, due prominence is given to the purely melodious element.

It may well be imagined that Mozart would not let slip the opportunity of trying the splendid effect of a symphony with flutes, oboes, and clarinets (Vol. I.

, p. 385).

But the clarinets are sparely used as a foreign importation, and, together with the trumpets and drums, are altogether omitted from the andante.

Large demands are made on the executive delicacy of the orchestra, and in many places the whole effect depends on a well-managed _crescendo_, as it had never done in previous works; in fact, it is not too much to say that many of the subjects would not have been conceived as they are, without the prospect of their performance by a well-organised orchestra.

During this interval Mozart also completed the clavier sonatas, with violin accompaniment, which he had begun at Mannheim (301-306 K. ), the fourth bearing the inscription "ä Paris," and busied himself to find a publisher for them who would pay him well.

[21] He found leisure, also, to compose a capriccio for his sister's birthday.

Thus we see Mozart, disliking Paris and the Parisians, deriving little practical gain from all his exertions, and yet striving in his own way to attain the position which was his due, when an event occurred which plunged himself and his family into the deepest grief.

Paris had never agreed with the Frau Mozart.

Their lodging in the "Hötel des quatre fils d'Aymon," in the Rue du Gros-Chenet--a musical quarter {DEATH OF MOZART'S MOTHER.

} (53) --was bad, as well as the living, and she sat all day "as if under arrest," Wolfgang's affairs necessitating his almost constant absence.

She was ill for three weeks in May, and intended, on her recovery, to seek out better lodgings, and manage the housekeeping herself.

But in June she fell ill again; she was bled, and wrote afterwards to her husband (June 12, 1778) that she was very weak, and had pains in her arm and her eyes, but that on the whole she was better.

But the improvement was only apparent, and her illness took a serious turn; the physician whom Grimm sent in gave up hope, and after a fortnight of the deepest anxiety, which Wolfgang passed at his mother's bedside, she gently passed away on July 3. His only support at this trying time was a musician named Heina, who had known his father in former days, and had often, with his wife, visited Frau Mozart in her solitude.

Wolfgang's first thought was to break the news gently to his father, who was ill prepared for so crushing a blow.

He wrote to him at once, saying that his mother was ill, and that her condition excited alarm; at the same time he acquainted their true friend Bullinger with the whole truth, and begged him to break the dreadful news to his father as gently as possible.

In a few days, when he knew that this had been done, he wrote again himself in detail, offering all the consolation he could, and strove to turn his father's thoughts from the sad subject to the consideration of his own prospects.

This letter[22] affords a fresh example of the deep and tender love which bound parents and children together, and of Wolfgang's own sentiments and turn of mind.

The consolations he offers, and the form in which he expresses them, are those of one who has himself passed through all the sad experiences of life; but to his father, whose teaching had tended to produce this effect, his expressions were justified and correct.

With a natural and genuine sorrow for his irreparable loss is combined a manly composure, which sought not to obtain relief by indulging in sorrow, but to look forward calmly and steadily to the future and its duties.

{PARIS, 1778.

} (54) As a loving son, he set himself to the filial task of comforting and supporting his father.

After hearing that the latter was aware of his wife's death, and resigned to God's will, Wolfgang answers (July 31, 1778):-- Sad as your letter made me, I was beyond measure pleased to find that you take everything in a right spirit, and that I need not be uneasy about my dear father and my darling sister.

My impulse after reading your letter was to fall on my knees and thank God for His mercy.

I am well and strong again now, and have only occasional fits of melancholy, for which the best remedy is writing or receiving letters--that restores my spirits again at once.

He felt, and with justice, that his father's anxiety on his account would now be redoubled.

In keeping him informed of all his exertions and successes he satisfied his own longing to confide in his father, and gave the latter just that kind of interest and occupation of the mind which would serve to dispel his grief.

It is touching to see the pains he takes to keep his father informed of all that he thinks will interest him, and how a certain irritability which had occasionally, and under the circumstances excusably, betrayed itself in his former letters, now completely disappears before the expression of tender affection: even the handwriting, which had been blamed as careless and untidy by his father, becomes neater and better.

Trifles such as these are often the clearest expression of deep and refined feeling.

When the heavy blow fell, Wolfgang was alone, his Mannheim friends having left Paris; his father might well be apprehensive lest he should neglect the proper care of himself and his affairs.

But Grimm now came forward; he, or more properly, as Mozart declares, his friend Madame D'Epinay, offered him an asylum in their house,[23] and a place at their table, and he willingly agreed, as soon as he was convinced that he should cause neither appreciable expense nor inconvenience.

He soon found himself obliged occasionally to borrow small sums of Grimm, which gradually mounted {MOZART AS GRIMM'S GUEST.

} (55) "piecemeal" to fifteen louis-d'or; Grimm reassures the father by telling him that repayment may be indefinitely postponed.

But Wolfgang soon found the way of life in Grimm's household not at all to his mind, and wrote of it as "stupid and dull."

And, indeed, a greater contrast cannot well be imagined than when, from the house whence issued with scrupulous devotion bulletins of Voltaire's health, contradictory reports of his religious condition, and finally the announcement of his death (May 30, 1778), Wolfgang should write to his father (July 3, 1778): "I will tell you a piece of news, which perhaps you know already; that godless fellow and arch-scoundrel Voltaire is dead, like a dog, like a brute beast--that is his reward!"

The condescending patronage with which he was treated soon became intolerable to him, and he complains of Grimm's way of furthering his interests in Paris as better fitted to a child than a grown man.

We can well imagine that Grimm, like Mozart's own father, desired that he should make acquaintances, should gain access to distinguished families as a teacher and clavier-player, and should seek to win the favour of the fashion-leading part of the community; no doubt, too, Grimm felt it his duty to remonstrate openly with Wolfgang for what he considered his indolence and indifference.

It is impossible to deny the good sense and proper appreciation of the position of all Grimm's remarks, but they were resented by Mozart on account of the tone of superiority with which they were enforced.

Grimm was indeed openly opposed to Mozart, and told him frankly that he would never succeed in Paris--he was not active, and did not go about enough; and he wrote the same thing to Wolfgang's father.

[24] {PARIS, 1778.

} (56) It soon became apparent that Grimm was not really of opinion that Mozart's talents were of such an order as to offer him a career in Paris; he said that he could not believe that Wolfgang would be able to write a French opera likely to succeed, and referred him for instruction to the Italians.

"He is always wanting me," writes Mozart (September 11, 1778), "to follow Piccinni or Caribaldi (Vol. I.

, p. 77), in fact, he belongs to the foreign party--he is false--and tries to put me down in every way."

He longed above all things to write an opera to show Grimm "that I can do as much as his dear Piccinni, although I am only a German."

Grimm's character was not a simple one;[25] he had both won and kept for himself under adverse circumstances an influential position, which was no easy matter in Paris at any time.

Queer stories were told of him,[26] and his love of truth was not implicitly relied on.

[27] Rousseau describes him as perfidious and egotistical.

Madame D'Epinay, on the other hand, extols him as a disinterested friend, and others speak of his benevolence and ready sympathy.

[28] There is, at any rate, no reason to suspect that he meant otherwise than well by Mozart, although he did not appreciate his genius, and interested himself more for the father's sake than the son's. He had striven for years to assert the supremacy of Italian music, and his ideal was Italian opera performed in Paris by Italian singers in the Italian language.

When De Vismes, who was anxious to propitiate all parties, engaged a company of Italian {STUDY OF FRENCH OPERA.

} (57) singers,[29] Grimm hailed the auspicious day on which Caribaldi, Baglioni, and Chiavacci appeared in Piccinni's "Finte Gemelle" (June n, 1778).

[30] It is therefore quite conceivable that he renounced all interest in Mozart's artistic future as soon as he was convinced of his falling off from purely Italian notions, and it is interesting to us to have so clear an indication that even thus early in his career Mozart had set himself in opposition to the Italian school.

He had long since learnt all that it had to teach, and he fully recognised the fact that it was his mission to carry on the reform set on foot by Gluck and Grétry, at the same time retaining all that was valuable in the Italian teaching.

A confirmation of this is found in a later expression of opinion made by Mozart to Joseph Frank, who found him engaged in the study of French scores, and asked him if it would not be better to devote himself to Italian compositions; whereupon Mozart answered: "As far as melody is concerned, yes; but as far as dramatic effect is concerned, no; besides, the scores which you see here are by Gluck, Piccinni, Salieri, as well as Grétry, and have nothing French but the words."

[31] This view was confirmed by his stay in Paris, a stay quite as fruitful for his artistic development as that at Mannheim had been.

Grimm's accounts show that Mozart had opportunities for hearing the operas of numerous French composers.

Besides Gluck's "Armide" which was still new, "Orpheus," "Alceste," and "Iphigenia in Aulis," which had been revived, Piccinni's "Roland," Grètry's "Matroco," "Les Trois Ages de l'Opéra," and "Le Jugement de Midas" were given, as well as Philidor's "Ernelinde," Dezaide's "Zulima," Gossec's "Fête du Village," Rousseau's "Devin du Village."

Added to these were Piccinni's Italian opera "Le Finte Gemelle," and doubtless many others of which we know nothing.

It may well excite wonder that Mozart's letters to his father describe {PARIS, 1778.

} (58) none of the new artistic impressions which he must have received in Paris.

But, apart from the fact that personal affairs naturally held the first place in his home correspondence, it must be remembered that abstract reflections on art and its relation to individual artists were not at that time the fashion, and were besides quite foreign to Mozart's nature.

His aesthetic remarks and judgments whether they treated of technical questions or of executive effects, are mostly founded on concrete phenomena.

The practical directness of his productive power, set in motion by every impulse of his artistic nature, prevented his fathoming the latest psychical conditions of artistic activity, or tracing the delicate threads which connect the inner consciousness of the artist with his external impressions, or analysing the secret processes of the soul which precede the production of a work of art.

He does not seem any more actively conscious of the effect wrought upon him by the works of others.

Some men's impressions of a great work are involuntary, and they seek later to comprehend the grounds of their enjoyment; others strive consciously to grasp the idea of the work and to incorporate it into their being; but to the man of creative genius alone is it given to preserve his own totality while absorbing all that is good in the works of other artists.

Without ever losing his own individuality, an artist of true genius absorbs impressions from nature and from other works of art than his own, and constructs them anew from his inner consciousness.

He accepts and assimilates whatever is calculated to nourish his formative power, and rejects with intuitive right judgment all that is foreign to his nature.

Just as in the production of a true work of art invention and labour, inspiration and execution, willing and doing, are inseparably interwoven, so in the consideration by a genius of the works of other men and other ages, delighted appreciation is combined with criticism, ready apprehension collects materials for original work in its truest sense; it is a natural process, which perfects itself in the mind of the artist without any conscious action on his part.

Therefore the judgment that one artist pronounces on {RESULT.

OF STAY IN PARIS.

} (59) another is not always in perfect accord with the influence which has been brought to bear on himself by that other.

The deeper the influence penetrates into the roots of an artist's inner being, the more will it become part and parcel of his productive powers, and the consciousness of any outside influence will be rapidly lost.

It remains for future historical inquirers to ascertain and define the influence of the intellectual current of the age on the individual, and the mutual action on each other of exceptional phenomena.

Small as the visible results of Mozart's stay in Paris might be, and far as he remained from the object with which he had undertaken the journey, it yet enabled him, with great gain to his progress as an artist, to free himself from the Italian school, after such a thorough study of its principles as convinced him of the value of the element of dramatic construction which lay concealed in it.

It may indeed be considered as a fortunate circumstance that no sooner had this conviction taken root in him than he turned his back on party disputes and left the place which was of all others the least fitted to encourage the quiet steady progress of genius.

L.

Mozart had other and very different reasons for wishing to shorten Wolfgang's stay in Paris as much as he had hitherto desired to prolong it.

With his wife's death he had lost the assurance that Wolfgang's life in Paris would be of no detriment to his moral nature.

Indulgent as she had been to her son, in this respect her influence was unbounded; and now it might be feared that Wolfgang's easy-going nature would lead him into bad company.

Grimm's account convinced him that Wolfgang had no prospects of success in Paris, the less so as he took no pains to conceal his dislike of the place.

His dearest wish at this time was to be appointed Kapellmeister to the Elector of Bavaria; he hoped thus to be able to improve the position of the Weber family, and to claim Aloysia as his own.

The project was not disapproved of by his father (who, however, was told nothing of the last item); on the contrary, he wrote to Padre Martini describing the state of affairs, and earnestly {PARIS, 1778.

} (60) requesting him directly and through Raaff to gain the Elector for Wolfgang; this the Padre readily undertook.

As for Raaff, his friendship for Mozart and the interest which he took in Aloysia Weber were incentives enough for exertion, and Mozart had other influential friends among the musicians, besides being able to count on the support of Count Sickingen.