Mozart failed. His mission, find a job. Find a job that
would support his family, or his father’s family, if you will. All the while,
he likely had these grand schemes of what he would do with is life—with his
musical career. His mother died on the
journey. His father held it over him. The woman he loved, or thought he loved,
dumped him. Had he been tormenting himself? "If only I had traveled with the
Webers, and let my mother go home, instead of going to Paris. Mom would still be alive. Aloysia would be
my wife. And, I’d most certainly have found a career."
Who knows?
Then, as the Zaide period in his life continued, how did he
believe others looked at him? The mocking? Laughing crowds? “Silly, goofy
Mozart. Needs his father to coddle him. Can’t do anything himself. Can’t get
anything right, but belt out a lovely tune from time-to-time.” I wonder if he
thought that people had a hard time taking him seriously.
Oh those mocking voices. We’ve all heard them. How can I talk of mockers without mocking? Haven’t
we all taken part? We gather with a group of cronies telling stories
of the stupid things people do. We laugh and delight. “Man at least I’m not
that dumb.” In reality, I wonder if we’re actually thankful there are stupid
people out there doing stupid things, so we can look at them and feel better at
ourselves. (Maybe, the TV industry has
made a nice profit from such mentalities.) But, then what of those who do
something we believe is stupid because of their values? It’s one thing to
disagree and even be saddened (or maddened), but another to mock and laugh and
their perceived ignorance.
Wer hungrig bei der tafel sitzt. Osmin’s Aria. The galloping of this marry tune… The voice of a man who gets great satisfaction over the failures of others. He enjoys his rival’s misery. Even in the music of Sultan Soliman, I hear the voice of a hurt person, who does not want to be cruel, but feels he has know other option. With Osmin’s aria, Mozart perfectly and powerfully demonstrates the belittling voice of a mocker. The incorporation of the laughter—the rotten cherry on top a mayo sundae.
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