Zaide K. 344, Herr und Freund

In spite, what some tell us… There are some lions we cannot tame alone. There are some bullies we cannot crush, unless the bully’s buds stand against him. There are some afflictions we cannot bear. Beneath all the layers of faked out bad-assary or shells of sarcastic cynicism, many of us have come to the point where we know we can’t beat that Goliath.  It could be something as simple as a goal, or as challenging as a battle with cancer. In those times, our only refuge is the rescue of a more powerful or knowledgeable party.

So imagine, in the midst of our hyperventilated-sobbing despair, someone trudges through the muck to assist. What are our reactions? I know I have various. But, let’s add a more extreme example. Say, you’re captured by a group of terrorists. They plan to slay for display. One lone guard wakes you one night and says, “Run. The nearest city is…” He lets you go, although it certainly may mean his death. Sure, you could be bitter because his tolerance of the of the group allowed you to get caught, but would that really be your reaction?

Similarly, Gomatz gets caught by Allazim, his slavemaster, pursuing his love of Zaide. Allazim’s job is to punish Gomatz, even though he has done nothing wrong. To do anything else would mean certain death—for both Gomatz and Allazim. (At least, if caught.) Yet, Allazim offers mercy. He doesn’t offer a clear and absolute solution, but he vows to do anything he can to help. Herr und Freund is Gomatz’s reaction to Allazim’s sacrificial act of kindness.

The music plays with emotions in a way only Mozart can do. To describe it best, I would say this aria is one of joyful crying.  But not in the manner of Bach, as if to say, “I’m suffering this horrible trail, but I have found peace through it.” But, more as if to say, “I’m going through this horrible trial, and I’m so miserably happy that you’re willing to go through it with me. I’m helpless. I can’t do this alone, and you’re actions have given me hope, even if I still have no chance of escaping this trial.” The music is that of a man on his knees, sobbing, repeating his thanks.

The back-story curiosity in me wonders how a slave and a slavemaster managed to become friends. (I have played with this in my YA version of Zaide.) What was Mozart thinking at the time? Operas don’t fill in a lot of back-story. Did Mozart have a narrative in his head, or was he not concerned? And, did Mozart have this type of relationship with anyone. I read somewhere that he was good friend with the Liberest of Zaide, Johann Andreas Schachtner. But, how deep was it? Or, was his simply longing for this type of friendship? How did Mozart hit so rightly those musical emotions?

I’ve done various reading, and surely I could and should do a lot more, but only one man sticks out to me as that type of friend, in Mozart’s life. I’m pretty sure this man came into Mozart’s life after Zaide. Haydn. Haydn is similar to Allazim in many ways. Not to call him a slavemaster, but he was definitely the middle management of the music world at that time. Haydn was one of the most encouraging historical figures in any genre that I can think of. Mozart? Beethoven? He trudged through the muck for his friends. Probably, like Allazim, he knew what it was like to be mire. Maybe, this world would be a better place if more people fought for others (and I don’t mean fight for others in order to get credit for champion a cause) instead of fighting for their own passions.

Unfortunately, I think I’m more like Mozart, than Haydn, in that regard. I want to be an encourager. I try to be. Those types of people are more enjoyable to be around. (And they are often more successful.) I even troll various other blogs and such, trying to find someone to encourage. Someone I think could do something.  But, I am afraid of and disgusted by flattery. One, I don’t want to say something nice to someone, solely to use them as a piggyback for my success.  I want to actually like the things I say I like. And two, I’m afraid my sincere comments will be construed as flattery.  (Or as creepy stalking.) Maybe that’s the problem, I’m afraid to go through the muck… To take a risk to help someone else.