Herr Director Cannabich, whose name day it is today and who has just this minute left and who sends you his most friendly greetings, told me off for not wanting to finish my letter – which is why he left again straightaway. –
As for Madame Duschek, it is of course impossible at present4 – but once the opera is finished, I’ll do so with pleasure – meanwhile please write and give her my best wishes; – as for the debt, we agreed to settle it when she next came to Salzburg. – What would give me pleasure would be to have a couple of courtiers like old Czernin5 – it would be a little help each year – but not less than 100 florins a year. – It could then be any type of music they liked. –
I hope that, praise and thanks be to God, you’re now well again? – Yes, if you have yourself rubbed down by someone like Theresia Barisani, it can hardly be otherwise. – That I’m well – and contented –
you’ll have noticed from my letters. – After all, who wouldn’t be happy to be finally rid of such a great and laborious task – and to be rid, moreover, with honour and fame – for I’ve nearly finished; – all that’s still missing are 3 arias and the final chorus from act three – the overture – and the ballet – and then adieu partie!–
As for the arias for Heckmann that have no words, there are only 2 that you don’t know. – The rest are by me – one, or rather two, from Ascanio in Alba– and the one for Frau Duschek6 – you can send this one to me without the words as I already have them here and can write them in myself – there’s also one by Anfossi7 and another by Salieri8 with oboe solo – both of these belong to Frau Haydn – I forgot to copy out the text as I didn’t think I’d be leaving in such a hurry. I don’t know the words by heart –
By the way – the most important thing of all, as I’m in a hurry – I hope that by the next mail coach I’ll receive at least the first act, including the translation. – The scene between father and son in act one – and the first scene in act two between Idomeneo and Arbace – are both too long – they’re bound to bore the audience – especially because in the first scene both singers are poor actors – and in the 2nd scene one of them is – and their entire content consists of retelling what the spectators have already seen with their own eyes – these scenes are being printed as they are –
I’d now like the Abbate9 to indicate how they can be shortened – and, indeed, made as short as possible – otherwise I’ll have to do it myself – for these 2 scenes can’t be left as they are – when set to music, that is. –
I’ve just received your letter which, as my sister began it, is undated – 1000 good wishes to Tresel, my future under-and senior nursemaid. I can well believe that Katherl would like to come to Munich – if (apart from the journey) you were to let her take my place at table – eh bien, I’ll see what I can do – she can share a room with my sister. By the way, please let me know at least eight days in advance when you’ll be arriving, so that I can have a stove installed in the other room. Adieu.
What beautiful handwriting! I kiss your hands 100 times and embrace my sister with all my heart. I remain ever your most obedient son
Wolf. Amde. Mzt
Mes compliments à tous nos amis et amies.
My next letter will be longer and less messy.
104. Leopold Mozart to his son, 22 December 1780, Salzburg
Mon très cher Fils,
Forgive my haste, but the mail coach leaves early tomorrow morning, that is, a day earlier than usual. Here are the pills.1 Take 5 in the morning a day after the moon begins to wane, then, if you like, you can have breakfast an hour and a half later. Another 5 in the evening before going to bed. Continue in this way until the moon has finished waning. It’s extremely inconvenient, of course, that for women there are times when they have to postpone this treatment or break it off completely.
Here are the 3 acts copied out for the printer. Space has been left for the names of the performers–– details of the ballet – the ballet music etc.
What has been added before each major scene change can easily be altered in the libretto if Herr Quaglio2 has changed it. – – In Atto primo scena VIII, for ex., it says: Nettuno esce etc. and then Nel fondo della prospettiva se vede Idomeneo, che si forza arrampicarsi sopra quei dirupi etc.3 I think that the description and explanation of these scenes should reflect the way you intend to stage it, in other words, according to whether Idomeneo remains on his ship or whether, although not actually shipwrecked, he leaves the ship with his crew in the face of the apparent danger and seeks shelter on the rocks. In short, it depends on how it’s staged. It should be left to Herr Quaglio, who’s a man of skill and experience. But there must be shipwrecked vessels as Idamante says in his recitative in scene 10 ‘vedo frè quel’ avanzi di fracassate navi su quel Lido sconosciuto guerrier’.4 But, to continue! You’re absolutely insistent on shortening 2 recits. I sent for Varesco at once as I didn’t receive your letter till 5 o’clock this evening, and the mail coach leaves early tomorrow morning. We’ve examined it from every point of view and can find no reason to shorten it. It’s translated from the French, as the draft envisaged. Indeed, if you look at the draft, you’ll see that it was demanded that this recit. should be lengthened a little so they don’t recognize each other too quickly and now there’s the risk that it’ll be made to seem ridiculous if they recognize each other after only a few words. Let me explain:
Idamante has to say why he’s there, he sees the stranger and offers him his services. Idomeneo goes so far as to speak of his anguish and yet he must also return his greetings. At that point Idamante will tell him that he sympathizes with the unfortunate man as he too has known misfortune, Idomeneo’s answer must necessarily be a question. Idamante now describes the king’s misfortune and Idomeneo, with his puzzling words non più di questo,5 gives Idamante a glimmer of hope and he asks in his eagerness dimmi amico, dimmi dov’è?6 This eagerness makes Idomeneo ask ma d’onde7 etc – surely Idamante must now explain things in such a way as to depict himself as a son worthy of his father and to excite in Idomeneo feelings of surprise, respect and the desire to discover who this young man is, so that, when he realizes that he’s his son, the whole affair becomes more interesting? – – But if something really has to be left out, I’ve thought the matter over and think that it should be after Idamante’s recit. che favella? vive egli ancor’8 etc., which ends: dove quel dolce aspetto vita mi renderà? Idomeneo, ma d’onde nasce questa, che per lui nutri tenerezza d’amor?9 You can then go straight to perchè qual tuo parlar si mi conturba? Idamante. e qual mi senti anch’io10 and go on from there etc. In this way you’ll lose 1½ pages on page 32 of the copy of Varesco’s libretto enclosed with this letter, namely, the beautiful account of Idamante’s heroic feat, beginning with Idam.’s Potessi almeno etc.11 This may shorten it by a minute, yes, in puncto a whole minute. A great gain! Or do you want father and son to run into each other and recognize one another in the way that the disguised Harlequin and Brighella meet as servants in a foreign country and quickly recognize and embrace each other?12 Remember that this is one of the most beautiful scenes in the opera, indeed, it’s the main scene and the one on which the whole of the rest of the story depends. In any case, this scene can’t weary the audience as it’s in the first act.
Nothing more can be cut in the 2nd act, except in Idomeneo’s 2nd speech. Idomeneo un Sol Consiglio or mi fà d’uopo. ascolta: Tu sai quanto a Trojani fù il mio brando fatal. Arbace tutto m’è noto etc.13 It then continues, and no sane person could leave out another word, quite apart from which this whole recit. can’t last long as it contains lots of things that must be declaimed eagerly and rapidly, and you’d gain only half a minute! A great gain! Nor can this recit. weary a single soul as it’s the first one in the 2nd act. At best you could omit the passage after Arbace’s recit. male s’usurpa un Rè14 etc so that Idomeneo says immediately: Il voto è ingiusto.15
You could then omit Idomen: Intendo Arbace etc and Arbace Medica man16 etc. etc. Whether it’s worth making a change
for such a trifle that would save 2½ minutes at most, I don’t know, especially as these recits. come at points where they can’t be at all wearisome. In the first act everyone is patient, and the opening recit. in the 2nd act can’t possibly be wearisome. It strikes me as risible: at a rehearsal, where there’s nothing for the eye to see, it is, of course, boring, but in the theatre, where between stage and spectators there are so many objects to distract one, such a recit. passes almost unnoticed. You can tell everyone I said that. If, in spite of this, something still has to be omitted, I would ask that the text is still printed in full. Herr Varesco doesn’t know that I’ve written all this. – If Herr Schachtner17 hasn’t done everything to the greatest perfection, you must remember that time was very short. Here are all the arias written out by Aesopus. Also a letter from Schachtner, who sends his best wishes, as does Varesco. We wish you luck and hope that the opera turns out a success. More next time. Addio. I wrote all this by candlelight, wearing my spectacles. Best wishes to everyone. We kiss you a million times. Your faithful old father
L. Mozart
On 26 January 1781, Leopold and Nannerl travelled to Munich for the premiere of Idomeneo on 29 January. They remained in Munich throughout February, and in early March visited Augsburg before returning to Salzburg on 12 March. Mozart meanwhile had been summoned to Vienna by Archbishop Colloredo, who was visiting his father, the imperial vice-chancellor. Although Mozart and his father continued to write regularly to one another, especially during Wolfgang’s first years in Vienna, none of Leopold’s letters have survived for this period – it is presumed that Constanze Mozart destroyed them after Mozart’s death. As a result, the correspondence between Mozart and his father from March 1781 until Leopold’s death in 1787 is entirely one-sided.
105. Mozart to his father, 24 March 1781, Vienna
Mon très cher Père,
Your letter of the 20th inst. has arrived safely, and I’m delighted to see from it that you both got back safely and are well. – You have my wretched ink and pen to blame if you have to spell out this letter rather than read it. – Basta; it has to be written – and the gentleman who cuts my nibs for me, Herr von Lierzer, has let me down on this occasion. You presumably know him better than I do – I can describe him only by saying that I think he’s a native of Salzburg and I’ve only ever seen him on the odd occasion at the Robinigs’ so-called 11 o’clock concerts. – But he called on me at once and seems to me to be a well-mannered and – because he cuts my pens for me – polite person – I think he must be a secretary. But the person who really surprised me with a visit was Katherl Gilowsky’s brother – why was I surprised? – because I’d completely forgotten that he’s in Vienna – how quickly a strange city can change a man! – He’ll undoubtedly become an honest, respectable person, both professionally and in his outward demeanour. –
You will in the meantime have received the letters from the emperor1 and Prince Kaunitz – What you say about the archbishop – the way in which I flatter his ambition – is to a certain extent true – but what use is it all to me? – – You can’t live on it; – believe me only when I say that he acts as a kind of screen for me – what distinction does he confer on me? – Herr von Kleinmayr and Bönike have a separate table with the illustrious Count Arco;2 – it would be a mark of distinction if I sat at that table – but not with the valets who, apart from occupying the best seats at table, have to light the chandeliers, open the doors and remain in the anteroom, when I’m there– and with the cooks. – And then, whenever we’re summoned to a house where there’s a concert, Herr Angerbauer has to remain on watch outside till the Salzburgers arrive, at which point he sends a lackey to say that they can come in – when Brunetti said this in the course of a conversation, I thought: Just wait till I get there! – So, recently, when we had to go to Prince Galitzin’s,3 Brunetti said to me in his usual polite manner: tu, bisogna che sei qui sta sera alle sette, per andare insieme dal Principe Galitzin. L’Angerbauer ci condurrà.–ho risposto: va bene – ma – se in caso mai non fossi qui alle sette in punto: ci andate pure; non serve aspettarmi – so ben dov’è sta, e ci verrò sicuro;4 – and so I made a point of going on my own as I feel ashamed of going anywhere with them; – when I got upstairs, Herr Angerbauer was standing there, waiting to tell the servant to show me in – but I paid no attention either to the valet or to the servant but went straight through the other rooms to the music room as the doors were all open. – And I went straight over to the prince and paid him my respects, remaining where I was and continuing to talk to him; – I’d completely forgotten Ceccarelli and Brunetti as they were nowhere to be seen – they were hidden away, leaning against the wall behind the orchestra, not daring to come out. – If a courtier or a lady talks to Ceccarelli, he just laughs. – And if anyone talks to Brunetti, he turns red and gives the driest answers. – Oh, it would take for ever to describe all the scenes that have taken place between the archbishop and Ceccarelli and Brunetti since I’ve been here and before I arrived. – I’m only surprised that he’s not ashamed of Brunetti; I’d be ashamed in his position. – And how the fellow hates being here – everything’s far too grand for him – I think he’s at his happiest when he’s at table – Today Prince Galitzin expressed a desire to hear Ceccarelli sing – next time I expect it’ll be my turn – this evening I’m going with Herr Kleinmayr to see a good friend of his, Court Councillor Braun,5 who everyone says is the greatest lover of the keyboard – I’ve lunched twice with Countess Thun6 and go there virtually every day – she really is the kindest and most charming lady I’ve ever met; and she thinks very highly of me, too – her husband is still the same strange but well-meaning and honest courtier. – I’ve also had lunch with Count Cobenzl, an invitation I owe to his cousin, Countess Rumbeke, the sister of the Cobenzl in the Pagerie, who was in Salzburg with her husband.7 –
My chief object is now to introduce myself to the emperor in a suitably well-mannered way as I’m absolutely determined that he shall get to know me. – I’d very much like to whip through my opera8 with him and then play some fugues, as that’s his thing. – Oh, if only I’d known that I’d be in Vienna for Lent, I’d have written a short oratorio and performed it for my benefit at the theatre, as everyone here does – I could easily have written it beforehand as I know all the voices; – and how much I’d like to give a public concert, as is the custom here, but I wouldn’t be allowed to, I know that for certain, because – just imagine – there is, as you know, a society here that gives concerts for the benefit of the widows of musicians9 – everyone who is anyone in music performs there for nothing – the orchestra is 180 strong – no virtuoso with even an iota of love of his neighbour refuses to play here if the society asks him to do so for in this way he can make himself popular with both the emperor and the general public. –
Starzer10 was commissioned to ask me and I agreed at once, but he said that I first had to get my prince’s approval – for my own part, I had no doubt at all that he’d give it as it’s a charitable concern and unpaid, but just involves doing good work; – he wouldn’t allow me; – the nobility were all much aggrieved at this. – I’m sorry about this, but only because I wouldn’t have played a concerto. Instead – because the emperor sits in the proscenium box – Countess Thun would have lent me her beautiful Stein pianoforte11 and I’ve have extemporized on my own and then played a fugue and finally the variations on ‘Je suis Lindor’.12 – Whenever I’ve played all this in public, I’ve always received the greatest applause as the pieces set each other off and everyone has something to savour; but pazienza; –
Fiala has risen 1000 times in my estimation for refusing to play for less than a ducat. – Hasn’t my sister been asked to play yet? – I hope she’ll demand 2. – We’ve differed from the other court musicians in every other respect, so I wouldn’t like it if we didn’t differ on this point too – if they don’t want to pay her, they should forget it – but if they want to have her, in God’s name they should pay her. –
I’ll be going to see Madame Rosa13 one of these days and you’ll certainly be pleased with your clever go-between – I’ll handle the affair as delicately as Weiser when the death knell tolled for his wife’s mother; –
Herr von Zetti offered right away to take charge of my letters, he’ll send them off with the parcel. –
I don’t need the 2 quartets or the Paumgarten aria.14
By the way, what’s happening about the elector’s present?15 – Has anything been sent yet? – Did you call on Countess Paumgarten before you left?
Please give my good wishes to all our good friends, especially Katherl – Schachtner and Fiala. – Herr von Kleinmayr, Zetti, Ceccarelli, Brunetti, the contrôleur, 2 valets, Leutgeb16 and Ramm, who’s leaving on Sunday, send their best wishes to you all;
By the way, Peter Vogt is here. – Farewell now I kiss your hands 1000 times and embrace my sister with all my heart. Ever your most obedient son
Wolfg. Amadè Mozart
The buffo Rossi is here too.
28 March. I didn’t manage to finish this letter as Herr von Kleinmayr arrived to fetch me in his carriage to go to the concert at Baron Braun’s – so I can now tell you that the archbishop has allowed me to play at the widows’ concert. – Starzer went to the concert at Galitzin’s and he and the whole of the nobility nagged him until he gave his permission. – I’m so happy; – since I’ve been here, I’ve lunched at home on only 4 occasions; – it’s too early for me – and the food is really bad. – Only if the weather’s very bad do I stay at home – like today, for example –
Mozart: A Life in Letters: A Life in Letters Page 44