The alterations which have been mentioned are not to be considered as selected from among many similar instances, they are the only ones of any consequence with which my researches have acquainted me. In forming our idea of Mozart's method of writing his score, we may remark further, that he did not content himself with such hasty outlines beforehand as might suggest the course of the whole by a few touches, but sketched out fully those parts where he thought well to give particular attention to the details. Canons, fugues, passages in counterpoint, with a complicated disposition of parts or some other difficulty, were worked out upon scraps of music paper or sheets which had been previously used but not quite filled, and then transferred to the score. An accurate sketch for the first finale in "Don Giovanni," for instance, where the three dance melodies occur together in different measures, was shown to me by Al. Fuchs, who had procured one such sketch from each of Mozart's great operas. There was another also of the three-part canon in the second finale of "Cosi fan Tutte," in which only the canon, not the voice part belonging to it, was noted. There exists also, in addition to the rough draft of the score of "L' Oca del Cairo," sketches of those parts of the quartet (6) and finale (7) which demand particular attention on account of the contrapuntal disposition of the parts. Unfortunately but few of these sketches have been preserved, but those few show Mozart's method very clearly, and leave no doubt that they were made in order that his conception might be fully developed and arranged in his own mind before its final reduction to writing. They testify, too, of the thoughtfulness and deliberation with which he worked, of the severe demands which he made upon himself, and the conscientiousness which prevented his trusting to the lucky inspiration of the moment or to his own well-tried readiness of resource. Our idea of Mozart as an artist is no longer that which has been so commonly received and admired, and which shows us a spendthrift of his artistic powers, who was only driven by dire necessity to collect the fruits which his genius cast unbidden into his lap. The prerogative of genius is not a dispensation from labour and painful exertion, but MOZART AS AN ARTIST. the power of attaining the highest aims of such labour, and of obliterating every trace of effort in the perfection of the work.
The external characteristics of Mozart's scores show also great care for order and clearness. His handwriting was small, but though often rapid, and sometimes hasty, always clear, decided, and individual. 22 The smaller details, in which copyist's errors might easily creep in, are specially cared for; all the instructions for delivery are carefully given in each part. In short, Mozart's scores leave an impression, not of pedantry, which magnifies what is unimportant and loses time in an exaggerated regard for method and uniformity, but of a well-considered order and careful arrangement of details in their due relation to the whole work.
Admirably illustrative of Mozart's method, as we have endeavoured to portray it, are the numerous unfinished compositions of which frequent mention has been made; many of these were found after his death, 23 and some are preserved in the Mozarteum at Salzburg. Among these rough draughts of scores are several beginnings of masses belonging to his Salzburg days, as also some songs and many unfinished instrumental compositions, but by far the greater part were written in Vienna. Among them we may note:—
6 fragments of string quintets.
2 quintets for clarinet and strings.
1 quartet for English horn and strings.
9 drafts of violin quartets.
9 drafts of pianoforte concertos.
1 pianoforte quartet.
2 drafts of pianoforte trios.
1 sonata for pianoforte and violoncello.
2 sonatas for pianoforte and violin.
4 movements for two pianofortes.
9 movements for the pianoforte.!!!
These are none of them roughly sketched drafts, but fair copies of unfinished scores, the completion of which was prevented by outward circumstances. Again we meet with UNFINISHED COMPOSITIONS. confirmation of the fact that Mozart never began to write until his composition was in all essential points completed in his own mind. When only a few bars are written they offer a perfected melody, a motif only requiring its further development. When the sketches are longer they form a well-rounded, continuous whole, that is evidently interrupted, not because the continuation is not ready to hand, but because some chance has prevented its further transcription. It may be plainly discerned also that not only are detached ideas put into shape, but the different characteristic traits of execution are indicated in the usual way, so that the chief effects and capabilities of the motifs may be clearly inferred.
It appears as if Mozart, when once interrupted in the transcription of a composition, was very loth to return to it again. That he might have done so cannot for a moment be doubted. His memory was infallible; but his interest was concentrated on the work with which he was concerned at the moment. He was easily impelled to write what he had already completed in his head, and this led him naturally to the next piece of work; to return to what he considered as over and done with was contrary to his nature and habit. There is no reason whatever to suppose that any of these sketches, preliminary notes, or unfinished compositions were ever subsequently made use of. This not only testifies of the wealth and ease of his productivity, which scorned to borrow even from himself, but it proves that his creations proceeded immediately from spontaneous impulses, each having independent birth, and owing its development to the singular fecundity of his artistic nature. The individual truth and fresh life of Mozart's works are founded in this natural spring of ever-welling spontaneity. Their artistic perfection rests on the skill with which the conception is developed; but in what consists the peculiar charm and beauty which is acknowledged and enjoyed by us all as inseparable from Mozart's music is, and will ever remain, an unsolved mystery.
However carefully Mozart, as a rule, prepared his compositions before writing them, we, who are acquainted with his nature and education, can scarcely doubt that he was MOZART AS AN ARTIST. able on occasion to compose as he wrote. Such a song as that which he wrote in the tavern for Frau von Keess cannot well have been ready in his head. When he was in Prague at the beginning of 1787 he promised Count Joh. Pachta to write a country dance for a public ball, but failed to produce it. At last the Count invited him to dinner an hour earlier than his usual time, and when Mozart appeared placed all the requisite materials before him, and entreated him to compose the dance on the spot, seeing that it was required for the following day. Mozart set to work, and before dinner had composed nine country dances, scored for full orchestra (510 K), which he certainly had not prepared beforehand. 24 These and similar instances refer to easy pieces in free form; but we have already seen (Vol. II., p. 366), that he could improvise canons and double canons of an unusual kind; and what further proof can be required than reference to his marvellous gift of executive improvisation?
In composing Mozart never had recourse to improvisation. "He never came to the clavier when he was writing." says Niemetschek (p. 82); "his imagination pictured the whole work when he had once conceived it." His wife also says naïvely, but graphically: "He never composed at the clavier, but wrote music like letters, and never tried a movement until it was finished." 25 When his compositions were completed he used to rehearse them, singing or playing, with his wife or any one else who happened to come in. Kelly narrates that Mozart greeted him one evening with, "I have just written a little duet for 'Figaro.' You shall hear it." He sat down at the pianoforte, and they sang it together; it was the duet (16) "Crudel perché finora"; and Kelly often remembered with keen delight how he had first heard and sung this charming composition. 26
In one sense, it is true, Mozart felt the necessity for an external vent to his musical ideas; and for this he had frequent recourse to his own special instrument, the clavier or pianoforte. "Even in his later years," says Niemetschek (p. 83), "he often spent half the night at the piano' 27 these were the hours that witnessed the birth of his divinest melodies. In the silent calm of night, when there was nothing to distract the mind, his imagination was kindled into supernatural activity, and revealed the wealth of melodious sound which lay dormant in his nature. At such times Mozart was all emotion and music, and unearthly harmonies flowed from his fingers! Only those who heard him then could know the depth and extent of his musical genius; his spirit, freed from every impediment, spread its bold pinions, and soared into the regions of art." It could scarcely fail to be the case that in such hours as these the subject of his improvisation should often be the work of which his mind was full at the time; but it would be a mistake to consider the improvisation as an express preparation for a subsequent work, or as the actual source from which it sprang. The improvisation was the embodiment of the mood of the moment, its form and extent were limited by the conditions of the instrument on which it was played, and it could by no means serve as an immediate foundation to a work to be performed under entirely different conditions and with a definite object.
Mozart carefully separated his time for writing and his time for improvising. To the end of his life he kept to his early habit of writing in the morning (Vol. II., p. 208), and even when he had been out the evening before, or had played far into the night, he was accustomed to begin work at six or seven o'clock; in later days, however, he indulged himself by writing in bed. After ten he usually gave lessons, and never returned to the writing-table unless there were urgent occasion. Such occasion arose often enough, it is MOZART AS AN ARTIST. true. When he was composing "Figaro," his father tells Marianne (November 11, 1785) how he postponed all his pupils until the afternoon, so as to have the whole morning free for writing, and we have already seen that he sometimes wrote in the evening, and even at night. Mozart's marvellous improvisations were not confined to hours of solitude and calm, nor to the satisfaction of his inner cravings; he showed himself equally master of the art when the impulse came from without, as was frequently the case, for people loved to hear him improvise. There is a peculiar charm in this accomplishment which, while it at once identifies the artist with his creation, requires the highest concentration of artistic energy to satisfy the varied conditions on which the production of a work of art depends. The improvising musician and his audience act and react upon each other; the latter receive the direct impression of the artist's individuality and power, and feel themselves, as it were, let into the secret of his method of producing the works which delight them, while the former is inspired to fresh efforts of genius by his consciousness of possessing the sympathy of his hearers. Mozart was always ready to play when he thought he should give pleasure, but he improvised in his best vein only "when he spied out among the crowd surrounding him one or more of the privileged few who were capable of following the flights of his genius; oblivious of all others, he addressed the elect in the hieroglyphics of his art, and poured forth for them alone his richest streams of melody." 28 We have much contemporary testimony as to the impression made by Mozart's improvising. Ambros Rieder, who died in 1851 at eighty years of age in Perch-tolsdorf—an enthusiastic musician and a worthy man—writes in his "Recollections"; 29 — IMPROVISATION. In my youth I had opportunities of hearing and admiring many distinguished virtuosi, both on the violin and the harpsichord; but I cannot describe my amazement and delight in hearing the great and immortal W. A. Mozart play variations and improvise on the pianoforte before a numerous and aristocratic audience. It was to me like the gift of new senses of sight and hearing. The bold flights of his imagination into the highest regions, and again down to the very depths of the abyss, caused the greatest masters of music to be lost in amazement and delight. I still, in my old age, seem to hear the echo of these heavenly harmonies, and I go to my grave with the full conviction that there can never be another Mozart. 30
And Niemetschek, when an old man, said to Al. Fuchs: "If I dared to pray the Almighty to grant me one more earthly joy it would be that I might once again hear Mozart improvise; those who have not heard him can form no idea of his extraordinary performances." 31 Repeated mention has already been made of Mozart's readiness and skill in playing "out of his head," as he used to call it (Vol. I., pp. 385-386). He avoided the common error of improvising virtuosi in the introduction of long cadenzas, "making a hash in the cadenza of what had sounded well enough in the concerto," as Dittersdorf says (Selbstbiogr., p. 47). A new fashion came into vogue about this time; instead of a long cadenza, a simple theme was delivered, and then varied according to every rule of the art; but Mozart used also frequently to improvise a free fantasia in his concertos (Vol. II., p. 285). Rochlitz narrates 32 how at Leipzig the audience wished to hear him alone at the close of one of his concerts, and though he had already played two concertos and an obbligato scena, and accompanied for nearly two hours—
He sat down at once, and played to the delight of all. He began simply and seriously in C minor—but it is absurd to attempt to describe it. As he was playing with special reference to the connoisseurs who were present, he brought the flights of his fancy lower and lower, and closed with the published variations on "Je suis Lindor." (Vol. II., p. 174).
Stiepanek, writing of the concert which Mozart gave in Prague (February, 1787), says:—
At the close of the concert Mozart improvised on the pianoforte for a good half-hour, and raised the enthusiasm of the delighted Bohemians to its highest pitch, so that he was obliged to resume his place at the instrument in compliance with their storm of applause. His second stream of improvisation had a still more powerful effect, and the audience again tumultuously recalled him. Their enthusiasm seemed to inspire him, and he played as he had never played before, till all at once the deathlike silence of the listeners was broken by a voice from among them exclaiming, "Aus 'Figaro'!" whereupon Mozart dashed into the favourite air, "Non più andrai," and improvised a dozen of the most interesting and artistic variations upon it, ending his wonderful performance amid a deafening storm of applause. 33
Niemetschek also speaks of this concert (p. 40):—
A sweet enchantment seized upon us in listening to Mozart's improvisation on the pianoforte, which he continued for more than half an hour, and we gave vent to our delight in a perfect storm of applause. His playing surpassed anything that could be imagined, uniting all the qualities of first-rate composition and perfect ease of execution.
Such moments of inspiration as this gave his countenance an expression which betrayed the artist within him. 34 At other times, his appearance was in no way striking or distinguished. His head was somewhat too large in proportion to his body; his face was pale, though not unpleasing, but in no way uncommon, and the Mozart family nose asserted itself very plainly as long as he continued to be thin. His eyes were tolerably large and well shaped, with good eyelashes and bushy brows, but they were not bright, and his look was absent and restless. He had a great dislike to hearing his appearance commented on as insignificant (Vol. I., p. 381), and was seriously angry once when the Prussian ambassador gave him a letter of introduction, in which he said that he hoped Mozart's insignificant personal appearance would cause no prejudice against him. 35 "This absent creature," says the notice in Schlichtegroll's "Nekrolog," "became another being as soon as he sat down to the piano. His spirit seemed to soar upwards, and his whole mind was absorbed in what seemed the proper object of his being, the harmony of sound." "His whole countenance would change," says Niemetschek, "his eye became calm and collected; emotion spoke from every movement of his muscles, and was communicated by a sort of intuitive sympathy to his audience."
THERE can be no reason to doubt what has often been asserted and maintained with proof, that Mozart was the greatest pianoforte-player of his time. Although, however, the fame of a virtuoso among his contemporaries is more brilliant and universal than that of a composer, yet posterity can form but a vague idea of the performances which were so enchanting to the hearers. It is impossible to give an accurate or very intelligible account of Mozart's playing, but it will not be without interest to note such of its characteristic features as are still within our grasp.
"He had small, well-shaped hands," says Niemetschek (p. 66), "and moved them so gently and naturally over the keys, that the eyes of his hearers were charmed no less than their ears." Like most pianoforte-players, his hands used involuntarily to assume the position they would have had in playing. The notice in Schlichtegroll's "Nekrolog" even observes that constant practising had rendered his hands awkward in ordinary use, and that it was only with extreme difficulty that he could cut up his meat at table!
"It was wonderful that he could do so much with them, particularly in left-hand stretches. A great deal of his perfection must be ascribed to the admirable fingering, which according to his own acknowledgment he owed to a diligent study of Bach's works." 1 Mozart certainly appears to have played Bach's clavier music from a very early age (in his MOZART'S PIANOFORTE MUSIC. letters to Breitkopf the father frequently orders Bach's last compositions); and once at a party at Doles', when the conversation fell upon Bach's playing, Mozart declared: "He is the father; we are the lads. Those of us who can do anything owe it to him; and whoever does not admit that is a ———." 2
Mozart's criticisms on the playing of Nanette Stein (Vol. I., p. 361) and Vogler (Vol. I., p. 387) prove the value he attached to good fingering as the foundation of firm and expressive execution. It is well known that Ph. Em. Bach's 3 practical development of his father's principles 4 laid the foundation of the present system of the art of fingering, and it is equally certain that Mozart, and with and after him Clementi, were the first to tread in the path so marked out. 5 He insisted mainly that the player should have a "quiet, steady hand," the natural ease, flexibility, and smooth rapidity of which should be so cultivated that the passages should "flow like oil" (Vol. I., p. 361); he did not counsel the practice of tours de force which might be prejudicial to these qualities. His first requirements were the delivery of "every note, turn, &c., correctly and decidedly, and with appropriate expression and taste" (Vol. I., p. 387). He cautions players against over-rapidity of execution, not only of passages where the harmony is strictly connected, but also of those where offences against strict time seem more allowable. He was strongly opposed to violations of time. 6 He believed (Vol. I., MOZART AS A VIRTUOSO. p. 361) that Nanette Stein would never acquire the power of playing in time, because she had not been accustomed to it from childhood. His own playing always excited admiration from his accurate time, never giving way to a tempo rubato in the left hand, while at the same time playing with perfect expression and deep feeling—and without making grimaces, to which he had a great aversion (Vol. I., p. 361).
He placed correctness first in the list of qualities essential to first-rate playing, and included among them ease and certainty in the execution of unusual technical difficulties, delicacy and good taste in delivery, and, above all, that power of breathing life and emotion into the music and of so expressing its meaning as to place the performer for the moment on a level with the creator of the work before him. We must be content to accept the enthusiastic testimony of the public, of connoisseurs, and of accomplished fellow-artists, 7 who all agreed that Mozart indisputably ranked highest among virtuosi, by virtue of his fulfilment of all these conditions. 8 When we find Clementi declaring that he never heard any one play so intellectually and gracefully as Mozart, Dittersdorf finding art and fine taste united in his playing, and Haydn asserting with tears in his eyes that he could never forget Mozart's playing, because it came "from the heart" (Vol. II., p. 350), the simple expressions of such men are more eloquent than the most emphatic hyperbole.
The union in Mozart of the virtuoso and the composer caused his performances as a virtuoso to be more directly influenced by his compositions than was usually the case. His pianoforte compositions have left us only an imperfect image of these combined accomplishments, partly because MOZART'S PIANOFORTE MUSIC. the living breath of genius cannot be reproduced, partly because the greater number of these works were written under the influence of external circumstances, which denied free scope both to the composer and the performer. 9
Variations upon a well-known theme were at that time a favourite form of improvisation, so much so that varying and improvising were terms often used synonymously. 10 It is easy to understand the interest which even a less educated public took in this form. A simple theme, either familiar or of a kind to be easily understood, gives the hearers something to be laid hold of, and it amuses them to recognise and follow the air in its manifold disguises. The regular development and elaboration of a motif, obliging constant attention from the hearers in order to trace the connection of its different parts, was not expected in these fashionable variations. What was looked for was such a prominence given to some characteristic elements of the subject (whether in the harmonic succession, in the rhythm or the melody) as should serve constantly to suggest it to the mind, while affording a basis for a free play of musical fancy. Such variations on a given subject may be in some measure compared with arabesque and similar ornamentations in architecture, which display complex and fantastic varieties of animal and vegetable forms, but behind their apparent irregularities maintain a constant reference to the constructive design.
Mozart never cultivated any other than this easy style of variation; and we find a contemporary critic expressing the wish that he would write, "not only these florid variations, but others in the style of the two Bachs, with scientific inversions and imitations, and in counterpoint." 11 But amateurs were fond of the easier form, and he found frequent occasion to write variations for his pupils or other friends. He did not care about them himself, and took no pains to have them published. But finding favour with PIANOFORTE VARIATIONS. the public, they were eagerly sought after and published, 12 often with many inaccuracies; nor were all genuine that appeared under the name of Mozart. 13 The following variations belong to the Vienna period, and probably to the year 1784:
1. "Unser dummer Pöbel," from Gluck's "Pilgrims of Mecca" (Vol. II., p. 285, 455 K.)
2. "Come un agnello," from Sarti's "Fra Due Litiganti" (Vol. II., p. 345, 460 K.).
In 1785 were composed:—
3. September 12 (500 K.)
4. Duet, November 4 (501 K.)
Then follow:—
5. "Upon a Minuet by Dupont," composed April 9, 1789 (573 K.)
6. "Ein Weib ist das herrlichste Ding," from the second part of the "Two Antonios," by Schikaneder, composed March 8, 1791 (613 K.)
The following were announced in 1785, but some of them certainly belong to an earlier date: 14 —
7. "Lison dormoit" (264 K.).
8. "La Belle Françoise" (353 K.).
9. "Salve tu Domine," from Paesiello's "Eingebildete Philosoph" (398 K.).
10. "La Bergère Silimène," with violin (359 K.).
11. "Hèlas, j'ai perdu mon amant," with violin (360 K.).
In 1786:—
12. "Marche des Manages Samnites," by Grétry (352 K.).
In 1787:—
13. "Ah, vous dirais-je maman?" (265 K.).
In all these, even the more pretentious of them, there is no appearance of a higher object than passing amusement, secured by means of the contrast of the different variations in time and measure, major and minor, prominence of the right hand or the left, with all of which devices we are now so over-familiar. It never occurred to Mozart to give a deeper meaning to his variations by the grouping of the movements, nor still less to torture a simple theme into all sorts of fantastic forms. He confined himself to a tasteful embellishment of the subject; harmonic and contrapuntal treatment was not altogether absent, but it was little more than suggested as a sort of seasoning to the music. In many of the earlier variations mechanical difficulties are brought into the foreground. Certain favourite difficulties, such as the passing over of the hands, long shakes or chains of shakes in one hand, while the other has the subject, were always to be found; passages which now offer neither novelty nor difficulty display nevertheless, upon closer inspection, both elegance and originality. The equal use made of the two hands is worthy of remark; a considerable amount of execution in the left hand is presupposed in these as in most of Mozart's compositions. In the later variations (3, 5, 6, 17) there is little or no bravura. The theme is easily and gracefully treated; and no attempt is made to invest with undue dignity what is merely a light and passing expression of fancy. As one of the most interesting and successful compositions of this kind may be mentioned the four-handed variations (4), which are both graceful and amusing.
Sometimes variations form a component part (the middle or last movement) of a sonata, either with 15 or without accompaniment (284, 331, K.). This has caused no essential difference in their treatment; they are neither wider in conception nor freer in execution, nor are they connected by intermediate passages so as to form one whole—a device often and successfully employed by Haydn and Beethoven.
Mozart's original themes are, for the most part, fresher and more graceful than those he has borrowed. The accompanied sonatas give greater scope for originality by the multiplication of the parts; and very often the simple enunciation of the theme by one of the parts allows a better defined expression of free contrapuntal treatment to be given to it by the other parts. But, as we have said, these modifications are unimportant; the form of the variation is here, as elsewhere, simply light and entertaining. 16
Various short pianoforte pieces, for particular occasions and persons, were written during Mozart's Vienna period, as, for instance, the three rondos:—
1. In D major, composed January 10, 1786 (485 K.).
2. In F major, composed June 10, 1786 (494 K.). 17
3. In A minor, composed March 11, 1787 (511 K.). 18
The two in F and D major are easy of comprehension and execution—cheerful, but not striking music; the latter is peculiar in that the oft-repeated theme recurs in different keys, thus necessitating changing modulations in the episodes. 19 The third, in A minor, is very original and beautiful. 20 The theme is somewhat piquant in its rhythm and harmonic treatment, and suggestive of a national melody— MOZART'S PIANOFORTE MUSIC. a mode of characterisation not often used either by Mozart or Beethoven. Its original modifications cause fresh surprise each time that it recurs. The second theme, effective by contrast with the first, is in itself both fine and expressive, and gives occasion for much appropriate and interesting treatment. The short middle movement, in A major, is lighter in style, but accords well with the chief theme, and leads back to it by a striking modulation. The whole piece is original in character; and the tone of melancholy which runs through it and constantly asserts itself forms a most attractive contrast to the restless movement of some of its parts.
The short Adagio in B minor (540 K.) (composed March 9, 1788) is also very beautiful, serious and even sad in tone, and otherwise interesting by reason of its harmonic inflections. Although this piece is written in perfectly regular form, in two parts with a coda, it reminds us in its whole style of an improvisation. This is still more the case with the so-called fantasias. It has already been remarked that preludes or fantasias were often prefixed as introductions to various kinds of compositions, either in the form of free improvisations or elaborate pieces that could be used on different occasions. A fantasia of this kind, prefixed to the beautiful fugue in C major, has already (Vol. II., p. 391) been noticed.
Mozart sent to his sister from Paris (July 20,1778) a short prelude, "not a prelude to lead from one key to another, but a sort of capriccio, to try the clavier," leaving the style of playing to her own judgment. "She received it at four o'clock," writes the father (August 13, 1778), "and at five, when I came home, she said she had thought of something, and if I liked it, she would write it down. She then began to play the prelude by heart. I rubbed my eyes and said: 'Where the deuce did you get that idea?' She laughed and drew your letter from her pocket." This is, no doubt, the unpublished prelude in C major (395 K.) which was in the possession of Mozart's sister. The essential character of this, as of the prelude in C minor (396 K.), is modulatory. There is no delivery of a regular melody, or working out of a definite motif, but the whole consists of varied and FANTASIAS. skilfully grouped passages and arpeggios, keeping both hands in equal activity, and displaying an abundance of rapid and often curious and striking changes of harmony. But even in this apparently unfettered straying through harmonies we cannot fail to be aware of organisation in the succession of the modulations, in the connection of the passages, and in the whole conception. The C major is in several detached contrasting movements, the C minor is founded on the definite form of a two-part sonata movement, but very freely treated.
The fantasia in D minor(337 K.—>(397 K. DW)) is of somewhat different design, in so far that the melodic element is more prominent, but at first only in oft-repeated phrases, which are continually prevented from developing into a perfect cantilene by the occurrence of a contrasting motif, or the outbreak of a quick stormy passage. The character of a gradual concentration of force is very clearly expressed. The tender and graceful theme which is at last allowed to assume its due proportions, can, however, be in no way considered as the proper result of such a preparation; it is not worked out, but first interrupted, and then brought to a rapid but not a satisfying conclusion, so maintaining the character of the piece as an announcement of something greater which was to come.
The well-known fantasia in C minor (475 K.), Mozart's performance of which so surprised Jos. Frank (Vol. II., p. 279), 21 is better worked out, and in every respect a more important work. Five movements, in various keys and tempos, are closely bound together into a whole by connecting passages or harmonic inflections. Each movement, though not completely separate, has yet a certain independence, with melodies of its own rounded into a simple song-like form; there is no attempt at the elaboration, or even the full development, of a motif, but everything presses onwards, each section leading as of necessity to the next, which is intended to form a lively contrast to what has preceded it. In spite of the MOZART'S PIANOFORTE MUSIC. predominance of a slow tempo, the whole work has a restless character, and the recurrence at the end of the serious and sustained commencement leads only to a provisional and unsatisfying conclusion. Here again, the essence of the fantasia is modulatory. The changes of harmony are frequent—often bar by bar—rapid and striking; the passages and even the melodies are so constructed as to lend themselves to this method. In spite of its length the fantasia preserves the character of an introduction, though not of necessity to the sonata with which it is printed. The mood which is so distinctly expressed in the two first bars of the adagio is preserved throughout the fantasia; it is a sad and sorrowful mood of doubting and questioning, of struggling and striving, of longing for deliverance from a heavy burden, for freedom from doubt and care; disheartened by failure, unrefreshed by consolation, it sinks at last into itself, and is heard no more. But there is no hopeless despair, no cynical irony in this music. It is expressive throughout of the composure of a man who even in combat never loses command over himself. The boldness of its harmonies, and the consistency of its tone were of unusual significance at the time of its composition. It is much to be regretted that the letter concerning it, which Mozart addressed to Frau von Trattnern (Vol. II., p. 279), has not been preserved. 22
Above and beyond such detached movements as these, the form of pianoforte composition chiefly cultivated by Mozart was the sonata, either with or without the accompaniment of one or more instruments. 23 The foundation of the sonata proper, and of the definite form in which the chief movement of the sonata, at least, was cast—was laid by Kuhnau and Dom. Scarlatti, the latter of whom brought his extraordinary technical knowledge to bear with effect on the treatment and style of pianoforte music. From the middle of the last century the piano as a solo instrument has been increasing in favour, especially among amateurs, and it THE PIANOFORTE SONATA. naturally followed that this species of composition should be cultivated with corresponding attention. Ph. Em. Bach and his disciple Jos. Haydn fixed the form of the sonata in all essential respects, and by the intrinsic worth of their compositions, and the charm of their execution, brought the germ of perfection therein contained to the point of vital development. To them succeeded Mozart, carrying on their work in his own original manner.
It has already been demonstrated (Vol. I., p. 292) that the clavier sonata in its free development forms the basis of independent instrumental composition, and that every advance in the one direction acts favourably in the other; it will suffice here, therefore, to touch briefly on the main points of this species of composition.
The sonata now signifies a composition for a solo instrument, consisting of several movements, differing in time, measure, and key, but sufficiently allied in design and grouping to form a coherent whole. In its earlier stage two movements often composed a sonata, but afterwards three or four became the rule. One of the movements is in slow time, and forms the appropriate expression of a calm, serious, or tender mood. It soon became usual to place this movement in the middle, with the instinctive feeling that a composed and self-concentrated mood ought to succeeed to a demonstrative or passionate one. If the more animated movement were preceded by the slow one, the latter would lose its independent character, and become a mere introduction to the former. The second of the lively movements served as a conclusion, and was invariably cheerful, sometimes even merry in tone. The music being principally intended for social entertainment, was so constructed as to leave a pleasant, cheerful impression. When a fourth movement was added it was generally in the same tone, and sometimes preceded, but more often followed, the slow movement. During his Vienna period Mozart's sonatas, both solo and accompanied, have but three movements, while his symphonies, quintets, and quartets are always furnished with minuets.
The three movements of the sonata have only gradually MOZART'S PIANOFORTE MUSIC. assumed their present form. One of Mozart's earlier sonatas, in A major (331 K), consists of an andante with variations, a minuet, and rondo; another, in D major (284 K.), has a middle movement, consisting of a rondo en polonaise, followed by a theme with variations. Afterwards, however, he adhered to the regular sonata form, with the first movement as its most characteristic part, forming the point of departure for the development of all modern instrumental music. It has already been remarked that the essential elements of the sonata movement consist in the treatment of the principal motif in the first part, and in its working out in the second.
The contrapuntal elaboration of a theme in strict form was the groundwork of the first part, and was followed by the characteristic treatment of well-defined motifs, side by side with a free use of figures and passages. An important point was the delivery of a second theme, independent of the first and sharply distinguished from it. This was always in the dominant of the principal major key (C major—G major), or in the relative major of the principal minor key (C minor—E flat major). These are the two main pillars of the movement. Their further development, their connection by means of interludes, and the conclusion of the part, are not further hampered by rule, except that the part must close in the dominant. The province of the second part was the working out of one or more motifs employed in the first part, or altogether new. The treatment was either mainly harmonic or mainly thematic, and had for its object the organic development of the given elements, the enhancing of the interest, and the effective return to the first part. Upon this elaboration, and leading back to the first theme, were concentrated all the power and genius of the master. The repetition of the first part entailed many modifications, partly because the second theme was obliged to appear in the principal key in which the movement closed; it allowed also of alterations in grouping the different phrases, of amplifications or curtailments, and especially of such a long-drawn climax at the close as should almost entitle the repeated second part to be considered as a third part.
Mozart found these elements ready to hand, and gave them the stamp of his own individual nature. In his hands the second subject, distinctly enunciated, became not only an independent but a counter-subject rising in characteristic relief from the body of the part. But his originality is principally displayed in the formation of the themes. Their predominant characteristic is songlike melody, which Nägeli (Vorlesungen üh. Musik, p. 156), with a mistaken view of the nature of instrumental music, considered to be the degradation and ruin of pianoforte-playing. With truer judgment Mozart has followed the injunctions of Ph. Em. Bach, and after him Haydn, and has striven to write melodiously. Mozart's musical training was founded on song—and his inclinations led him to song—in a greater degree than was the case with his two predecessors. When once' the pianoforte composer had renounced the severe polyphonic method—when once he had come to regard his theme not as material for pedantic elaboration, but as a free melody capable of giving expression to his artistic perceptions, then song became the point of departure for all his melodies. A transference to the instrument of the forms expressly constructed for the voice was impracticable; they could only be employed by analogy, in conformity with the nature of the instrument. Mozart never employed the form of the Italian cantilene in his pianoforte compositions, nor in his instrumental works generally; a glance at his Italian operas will show the difference in the treatment of the melodies. Wherever a comparison of instrumental with vocal works is possible, it must be made with the German operas, especially with the "Zauberflöte." In his instrumental works Mozart gave his emotions their natural expression without binding himself to any such set forms as those of Italian opera; with equal freedom he treated song in his German operas as the immediate outcome of his feelings. The developed forms of German instrumental music suggested this treatment. The essential conditions of a beautiful melody, founded on the relations of intervals, rhythm and harmonies, were perfectly fulfilled in Mozart's pianoforte compositions. Each melody is complete, uniform and full of his own charm of grace and MOZART'S PIANOFORTE MUSIC. euphony. The delivery of such melodies must have given special prominence to those qualities in Mozart's playing which Haydn declared came from his heart; we are sometimes surprised in the concertos, for instance, to find the chief effect depending on a long, simply sustained melody, which he must have played in masterly fashion. This songlike and expressive treatment of the separate melodies was accompanied by an extraordinary wealth of melody. Instead of the connecting phrases which generally led out of the principal motif or were formed by free passages, Mozart introduced new melodies. This was made an occasion of reproach to him, as Dittersdorf says ("Selbstbiographie," p. 237): "Mozart is unquestionably a great original genius, and I know of no composer who possesses such an astonishing wealth of ideas. I only wish he were a little less prodigal of them. He gives his hearers no time to breathe; as soon as one beautiful idea is grasped, it is succeeded by another and a finer one, which drives the first from the mind; and so it goes on, until at the end not one of these beauties remains in the memory." We shall certainly not echo this complaint of Mozart's prodigality of ideas; but it cannot be denied that though the formation of independent melodies is an important and necessary step in advance, it does not reach the last stage of development. Mozart's melodies are not strung together without connection, both external and internal; but, in the shorter sonatas especially, where they are not worked out, they strike us as the indicated points in a design wanting as yet the detail of which it is capable. 24
The gain was important in two respects. The close juxtaposition of melodies excluded, or greatly limited, the employment of connecting passages without sense or meaning. Of these Mozart makes comparatively little use. He used figures and passages chiefly as ornaments, and not as independent members of the movement. But where this form of transition seemed inevitable, he used it without ceremony, just as in architecture supports are worked into the artistic design, SONATAS. without any disguise of their structional importance. We may instance the broad and expressive treatment of his closes and half-closes, which are now so striking as to appear to many a special peculiarity of Mozart's style. This, however, they are not; they were then in general use, and proceeded from the desire to maintain the key with firmness and decision.
The greater freedom of modern music in this respect, and the substitution of graceful and original transition phrases for dry commonplaces is an undoubted progress. Mozart's transition phrases were, however, often elegant and interesting, as may be proved from a reference to his returns to the theme in the second parts, and to the varied development which he gives to the simple ground form of the organ point.
The second respect in which Mozart's method was a gain to music was in the clearness which it gave to his designs.
This clearness is an inseparable adjunct of Mozart's art; by means of it the main points of his structure were as clearly defined as an architectural ground-plan, and became the supports for elaboration and development. Mozart himself was far from exhausting the resources of the method which he founded; others have followed in his footsteps, and Beethoven, his intellectual heir, has displayed all the depth and wealth of that which he has inherited.
In the choice and arrangement of his melodies Mozart invariably displays delicate taste and discrimination. He is particularly happy in surprising his hearers with a new melody when they least expect it—at the close of the first theme, for instance, which generally brings with it a certain sense of satisfied completeness. But his most inimitable effect is produced when, just as the movement is drawing to a close, a perfect melody starts up in all its charm of fresh sweetness, reviving the interest of the hearers, and often giving an entirely new turn to the whole. As a striking example,
I may remind my readers of the first movement of the Symphony in C major (551 K.). Who has not been charmed again and again by the last melody, which, like a shining meteor, sheds light and cheerfulness around? Similar, though not perhaps equally brilliant, effects are of constant occurrence; they have not been achieved, have scarcely even MOZART'S PIANOFORTE MUSIC. been attempted by any other musician. On the other hand, however, the partiality with which Mozart has treated the close and other less prominent points of his movements has been prejudicial to the so-called second subject; this is usually the weakest part. It should have a light and tender character, in contrast to the principal subject; it is frequently, however, insignificant in comparison to the other motifs, and gives the impression of having been neglected.
The further development of the fundamental scheme was accomplished by means not of the insertion of phrases connecting its principal members, but of the thematic treatment of these members themselves. Mozart's study of Bach and Handel led him in this direction, as was particularly shown in his later pianoforte works; an interesting example is afforded by the two movements in the Allegro and Andante in F major (553 K.), which are throughout in counterpoint. This work must not be considered as a relapse into the strict forms of counterpoint, such as the canon and the fugue, but as the free development of the laws to which polyphonic and contrapuntal forms are alike subject. Instrumental and especially pianoforte music, freed from the fetters of strict form, was in danger of advancing exclusively in the direction of homophonie development, and so becoming insipid. It is Mozart's merit to have brought polyphonic and thematic treatment, modified according to the altered character of the music and the nature of the instrument, to its freest and most beautiful expression. This is particularly noticeable in the "working-out" divisions of the movements, on which the main emphasis must necessarily fall, and which can only attain their full significance by means of this treatment. Mozart does not indeed develop them in length and breadth as Beethoven does, but he makes them, even when they are so condensed as to appear mere transition movements, the culminating point of the whole movement, the concentration of all its force and action. The mode of treatment is as free as the choice of subject; but the effect generally depends upon a thematic treatment which is often very artistically designed and woven together.
Not that the harmonic element is neglected—the boldest SONATAS. and most original modulations occur in the very places where close examination discloses the thematic as the vivifying element, the true impulse of the work. This free and intellectual treatment of the polyphonic method was distasteful to many of Mozart's contemporaries, who only accepted the traditional forms of counterpoint. Thus, a critic expresses himself as follows concerning the E flat sonata for violin and piano (481 K.):—
The pleasing style of this sonata by Herr M. will cause it to find favour with all lovers of the art. It is to be wished, however, that Herr M. would attach himself less closely to the passing taste of the day; his works would thereby gain a more universal and lasting worth. That Herr Mozart is not wanting either in the knowledge of harmony or the wealth of imagination which would enable him to offer us stronger meats is sufficiently vouched for by this and many other of his well-known works.
The same critic considered the working-out movement far too long:—
Although musical science has no actual rule in such cases, yet a difference of three pages is out of all reason. 25
The slow middle movement and the last movement have not the accurate and well-defined form of the first. Two essentially easier forms are mainly employed, with many modifications, namely, variations and the rondo. The slow movement is, as a rule, founded upon the song form, and is therefore often designed in two parts; but the design is only very seldom developed as broadly and fully as in the first movement; the repetition of the theme more than once, with the then customary additions and embellishments, 26 led naturally to the adoption of variations. But in every case the first requirement was the composition of a movement melodious in form and substance, and owing its expression not to its connection with any other, but to its own intrinsic MOZART S PIANOFORTE MUSIC. feeling. The tone of sentiment then existing was favourable to the production of just such movements, and they therefore undoubtedly belong to Mozart's finest creations. These simple and expressive melodies, exquisitely formed and firmly handled, full of warm and deep emotion or of sentimental tenderness, seem to be the precious legacy of the time to which we also owe the purest strains of our lyric poetry. The calm with which they are for the most part permeated expresses in a rare degree the enjoyment and satisfaction of artistic activity. The very ease with which these movements are constructed, by means of the development of the main idea of variations on it and of freely treated and often contrasting secondary parts, shows how freely and naturally they proceeded from the heart of the musician. As an instance of detail we need only mention the delicacy and grace with which Mozart leads up to the conclusion, and leaves his hearers with a parting impression of perfect satisfaction.
The last movements are not by any means of equal merit with the other two. A large majority are in the easy rondo or variation form. The incredible ease with which Mozart poured forth melodies is more than ever apparent in these movements, but they are often loosely strung together without development, and sometimes trivial in character. The original intention of the movement, of enlivening the audience by a cheerful dance or something similar, is generally kept in view; the tone is one of more or less excited merriment, without depth or true humour. Mozart's enjoyment of dances, games, and jests of all kinds found expression in such performances as these. Their purity and grace of form shows however that, like a true artist, he lifts every manifestation of his nature into a higher sphere. Many of his last movements form exceptions to what has been said above, both by reason of their stricter form and of their more elevated tone.
The list of sonatas for pianoforte alone which Mozart composed in Vienna is not a very long one. 27 Of the first which appeared— SONATAS—DUETS. Three sonatas, Op. 6 (330-332, K.), in C, A, F major.
Three sonatas, Op. 7 (333, 284, K.), dedicated to the Countess Therese Cobenzl, in B flat and C major; the third is with the violin (454 K.)—
some must certainly have been composed earlier; then follow:—
C minor, composed October 14, 1784 (457 K.), with the fantasia (475 K.) published in 1785 as Op. 11.
F major, composed January 3, 1788, in two movements (533 K.).
"A Short Pianoforte Sonata for Beginners," in C major (545 K.), composed June, 1788.
B flat major, "for pianoforte alone," composed February, 1789 (570 K.).
B flat major (D major—DW) composed July, 1789 (576 K.).
Most, if not all, of these appear to have been composed for special occasions. The most important is unquestionably the celebrated one in C minor, the fire and passion of which, especially in the last movement, surpass all previous efforts, and point to what Beethoven was to achieve in the piano-forte sonata. The second, in B flat major, is pleasing and gay; the working out of the first movement is free and full. The third, in D major, is easy and cheerful, with more passages than usual.
Three four-handed sonatas 29 are also preserved:—
D major, composed November, 1781, for Aurnhammer's Soirée (381 K.).
F major, composed August 1,1786 (497 K.).
C major, composed May 29, 1787 (521 K.).
Pianoforte music for two performers was then far from having attained the popularity which it now possesses, especially among amateurs. Those who wished to play for the sake of playing, and to give full effect to their performance, would not readily shackle themselves with a fellow-performer, and lose their absolute sway over the instrument. Duets were considered an exceptional kind of amusement, not without its peculiar charm. This charm consisted in the richer elaboration of material which they allowed, and in such a division and alternation of the parts as should set the MOZART'S PIANOFORTE MUSIC. two players in competition. Mozart, who excelled in this kind of treatment, often employed it, and even transfers entire cantilene with their accompaniments to the bass part, not always, as Marx rightly observes ("Lehre von der Musikalischen Composition," III., p. 601), with a good sound effect. Of the two great sonatas, that in F major is by far the most striking; the emphasis is not here laid upon the first movement. The adagio, and still more the rondo, are specially interesting from their beautiful motifs and the seriousness—even to grandeur—of their treatment. The other Sonata in C major is not trivial in conception, but depends more upon brilliant execution, and leaves a cheerful, pleasant impression.
Compositions for two pianofortes were more popular, as affording more scope for display to the performer, but the inconvenience attending their performance has prevented the cultivation of this branch of composition. It appears at one time to have been a favourite one with Mozart, owing, no doubt, to some special circumstances. The Fugue in C minor (426 K., Vol. II., p. 392) was composed on December 29,1783, and the Sonata in D major (448 K.) at the beginning of 1784; the latter is a capital bravura piece for the time at which it was written, effective even now, and interesting from the interweaving of the two parts. The first movement is the best, the working-out forcible and effective, though not elaborate; the andante is somewhat tedious, owing to the repetition of the entire first part. Several commencements now among the sketches in the Salzburg Mozarteum fall within this perio.d. A second fugue, in G major (45 Anh. K.), has already been noticed (Vol. II., p.388); the commencements of an Allegro in C minor (44 Anh. K.) and of an Adagio in D minor (35 Anh. K.) are so grand and forcible as to cause regret that they were not continued; a last movement in B flat major (43 Anh. K.) is calmer and more cheerful in character. It is remarkable how these few bars confirm the observation that the choice of a minor key was with Mozart an invariable sign of a special effort of his productive powers.
The sonatas with violin accompaniment composed by Mozart in Vienna were few in number. The first collection SONATAS FOR PIANOFORTE AND VIOLIN. which appeared in November, 1781 (Vol. II., p. 187), Six Sonatas, Op. 2 (376, 296, 377-380, K.), in F, C, F, B flat, G, E flat major, comprise some sonatas written at an earlier date—those in C and B flat major undoubtedly were, both upon external and internal evidence. That they were all intended for one collection is evidenced by the differences in their designs, probably for the sake of variety. Thus, the Sonata in C major begins with an elaborate Adagio leading into the Allegro in G minor (in depth of feeling these are the finest movements in the set); the last movement is in variations. In the Sonata in F major, variations are placed in the middle, and the last movement is a tempo di minuetto, treated rondo fashion. The first movement is especially prominent in the Sonatas in F major and E flat major. A Sonata in C major begun in 1782, "Pour ma très chère épouse" (404 K.), is unfinished. The fragment of a Sonata in A major, with an introductory Andante, followed by a Fugue in A minor (402 K.), only half worked-out, and completed by Stadler, belongs unquestionably to the period of Mozart's intercourse with Van Swieten. These were followed by:—
B flat major, composed April 21,1784, for Strinasacchi (Vol. II., p. 336), (454 K.).
E flat major, composed December 12, 1785 (481 K.).
A major, composed August 24, 1787 (525 K.).
F major, "Short Violin Sonata for Beginners," composed July 10, 1788 (547 K.).
The greater number of these were composed for pupils. The majority of amateur pianists were then ladies, and it was usual for them to be accompanied on the violin by their teachers or other friends; this kind of music found favour also in social reunions. 30 It follows, therefore, that these sonatas have no great depth of passion or scholarly treatment, but are well supplied with beautiful melodies and startling harmonic inflections, and are made interesting, sometimes even brilliant, to please the performers. A notice of the first six sonatas soon after their appearance says:— 31
These sonatas are unique of their kind; rich in new ideas and signs of the genius of their author, very brilliant and well suited to the instrument. Besides this, the violin accompaniment is so artistically combined with the pianoforte part that both instruments are kept in constant activity, and the sonatas require a violin-player of equal skill with the pianist. But it is impossible to give a full description of this very original work. The connoisseur must play it through for himself, and he will then be ready to acknowledge that we have not exaggerated its merits.
It appears from this that the violin part was usually treated as subordinate, exclusively intended for accompaniment; but not so with Mozart: his violin parts are completely independent, on an equality with the piano, and composed with special reference to the idiosyncrasies of the instrument. Indeed, the whole design of these sonatas avoids any interweaving of the parts, which are generally in strict counterpoint; even the simple form of imitation is comparatively seldom employed; the parts relieve one another, exchange melodies and passages, or move freely together. If, however, we compare the violin part so skilfully added to the Sonata in B flat major (570 K.), we shall find that it is no essential part of the design, but an evident addition; while in the violin sonatas proper, simple as the violin part may be, it cannot be subtracted without injury. The principal charm of these sonatas lies in the rich development of their harmonies. In this respect, too, the later sonatas are, as usual, superior to the earlier. With the exception of the short sonata for beginners (547 K.), that in E flat major (481 K.) is the easiest, but it is remarkably clear and pretty. The working-out of the first movement is formed by the delicate harmonising of the favourite subject already known to us (Vol. I., p. 259)—[See Page Image]