That great project. I've got the one project in my head. Or had it in my head at least. It was going to be the greatest thing ever. The arrogant fool I am. I, at times, still think it is the greatest thing ever written. Maynard Solomon suggests that Mozart felt this very same thing about “The Marriage of Figaro.” Some talk this great talk about believing in your work. Yet, I have these great doubts. ‘Why the hell do I think this is so good?’ Did Mozart smack himself with such thoughts? I don’t know. I bounce back and forth between slapping myself, and trying to encourage myself. I say things like, “This is crap. Why do you think it is so good?” To, “This IS good. You just need to grit your teeth, and push forward. Declare its awesomeness.”
I can see Mozart with these very struggles as he worked on “Le nozze di Figaro” (Marriage of Figaro, for you follow Troglodytes.) Written during Figaro’s making, K. 482 is a reflection of such mental bouts. Now, honestly speaking, I’m at a place where I just don’t get it. They say stay positive. Ok. Ok. Ok. Yeah. That’s it. Stay positive? Not that easy. What am I supposed to do? Force myself to be optimistic?
I’ve been listening to Mozart’s Piano Concerto 22 a lot lately. Magnificent piece. (All of his stuff is, really.) But, it just reflects this struggle to try to keep a positive attitude so perfectly. (I already alluded to the third movement in my previous post.) The first movement starts with a real eager heart. Like I had when I sincerely believed (with little doubt) anything was possible. The piano--that bright-eyed optimist--ventures out naively into the unexplored world. Slowly, it starts to realize, “Maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as I expected.” Yet it still hold that optimism.
Then, in comes the moods of the 2nd movement. I hadn’t realized the depth of emotions this movement carries until just tonight. Starts with the orchestra. The rejections of the worlds, they try to speak kindly, yet… They don’t have good news. The piano nods, with self deprecating humility. “I understand.” The orchestra tries to cheer the solo up, at times, but only in a manner that is also trying to encourage it to possibly explore new dreams. The piano tries to hide its real emotions. The flute and oboe do the most to encourage. And from time-to-time the piano jokes around, plays around with a fake smile. The orchestra doesn’t respond well to the joking. It feels the need to be stern. “Ok. Let’s grow up.” So the piano hides.
So comes the soul-realizing third movement. The movement I’ll bet I know by heart. The movement that gets me to exercise even when I hate it. It is that of a beaten man sucking in his breath, standing up, and saying, “Let me have it... I’m still going to keep going.” The music declares. “This is going to be hard, and I may not make it. But, if I sit around acting mopey, I definitely WON’T make it.”
Yes. Optimism. So hard to hold, particularly for a cynic like me. Yet, I think it is much more attainable when one discovers and clings to a truth that will always be there, fail or succeed.
