Apollo et Hyacinthus, K. 38

Now some would consider this Mozart's first true opera. Where they would say Die Schuldigkeit des ersten Gebots was a sacred work. Semantics. I'm not concerned.  So anyway. Apollo et Hyacinthus plots itself on some Greek Mythology.  Now, I've read that they changed it up a bit in Mozart's day to fit the time's ethics. (As if promoting foreign gods was more scriptural.) I'm not sure how much of this debate the 11-year-old Mozart dabbled in. 

Again, the music is very impressive for such a young man.  I mean, an opera? How many adults can do that? I do remember reading somewhere, that some in the past criticized Mozart's opera. They said he was too young to do 'em. Maybe.  But, in this opera, I think he is beginning to claw into the some good emotional stuff.  Natus cadit atque Deus is the first example a fitting great emotional theme. The death of a child requires a sad song. But, it still has a nice shade of hope. Even at 11, Mozart sipped from the cup of death. Did he draw from his experience to come up with the music from this song? In addition, I know I have heard the music before. Did I hear from another opera? Have I just heard it on the radio? I don't know, it is so familiar. Maybe it is one of those jackpot rhythms he reused. 

I little extra. I watched a youtube clip with some kids playing many of the parts. They had great voices. Did children play the parts when Mozart first had it performed? Was Mozart actually conducting it? Would he have seen the kids as peers, or underlings? 

K. 31, Sonata in B Flat

K. 31, Sonata in B Flat

Sorry for the time since my last post.  I have been on vacation.  I was rec. coordinator at a camp.  Good news though.  I offered a riddle clue referring to Mozart, and a kid actually got it.  I wanted it to be difficult.  This child that was in the 3rd or 4th grade recognized it.  To top it off, he was a bit a rambunctious kid.  Not, the type you'd expect to listen to Mozart.  As some other troglodyte I know.  

Anyway... On to K. 31

I hear many elements of other of Mozart's earlier sonata work's in this piece.  The first movement echos that familiar melody way back from K. 14.  I don't know what it is about that particular ditty that stays in my head, or makes it memorable.  It's got to be Mozart's Camptown Races.  The second movement seem to interject familiar melodies as well.  I wonder if the work is simply an amalgamation of comforting tunes for the young Mozart.  

K. 30, Sonata in F

K. 30, Sonata in F

As a whole, my first impression of this piece was ‘goodbye.’  The first movement captures that final embrace. Heads tucked ear-to-ear, tears secretly streaming. Each waiting to see who will release first. A looming dread hints that life will not be better after parting.  The second movement is the moment after the embrace.  It starts off, with both acknowledging that each had been tearful.  Then, the cadence livens up.  It says, ‘Hey, let’s remember the good times.  Let them be our hope.’  But, the music suggests that neither believe reminiscing will ever satisfy.   

K. 29, Sonata in D

K. 29, Sonata in D

All but K. 26 of The Hague Violin Sonata’s are two movements.  The first element that struck me about K. 29 was a slower tempo version melody of the 2nd allegro from K. 14.  It called out from the backdrop in the first movement.  This K. 14 melody is the one that has stayed strongest in my head from all these earlier sonatas.  (That does not necessarily mean it was my favorite.)  Why particular melodies stay in one’s head baffles me.  For the most part, the first movement conjures relaxed feelings, like a lazy Sunday afternoon.  The second movement starts with a daydreaming hopefulness.  Then, in bipolar manner, hopeful ponderings alternate with ‘what if’ worries.

K. 24, 8 Variations of Laat ons Juichen, Batavieren

K. 24, 8 Variations of Laat ons Juichen, Batavieren

I rambled on this one trying to figure out what I had to say.  Not sure if I even fully knew. 

I had mentioned in a previous blurb: on one of those singing talent shows, judges emphasized the need to hear a singer’s interpretation of a popular song.  What does that mean? Really?!  (I don’t watch these shows to often, but this concept must be a theme.)  Most of the time we have the first version stuck in our heads anyway. Why redo it?  Then to top it off, these shows put pressure on their contestants stating that they have to pick the right song that fits their personality. That impress the crowds.

What about songs that state what they have to say?

What am I trying to say? I don’t know.  Are even these words just the same recycled themes as those I’m shunning?

We’re all fighting to find the new different, but is there really anything new?

Don’t get me wrong.  Playing around with the established is a great exercise, but does anyone ever achieve lasting greatness that way? By greatness, I mean fame.  A lasting fame.  Mozart as a child was clearly famous.  The news reports about various child prodigies from time to time, but do we ever find out what happened to them as adults? Even if we do, do they go down in history?

How do these ponderings even remotely relate to Laat ons Juichen, Batavieren?

This was a popular song in The Netherlands and Mozart wrote eight variations of the tune. Clearly, playing with the established has practical benefits.  But, it has its artistic merits as well.  Working with the esteemed often forces us to zot neurons that may have never been stimulated otherwise. And thus, we might discover something new.  Often rebellion or a superior sense of self keeps us from such discoveries.

Laat ons Juichen, Batavieren may have been such an exercise for Mozart.  A discovery of what moods he could stir with a single melody.  With each variation, my moods shifted as follows:

1. A straightforward playing with little harmony.  The melody sounds like the old hymn Wonderful Savoir.  The mood is of an awed reflection. 

2. Joyful reflection.

3. A hopeful smile.

4. The added complexity suggests a celebration with friends and family invited.

5. Prancing with arms in the air.

6. Skipping and frolicking on an autumn trail.

7. A melancholy smile reflecting thanksgiving.

8. Waltzing with one’s beloved.

Sure, it is true, that working to impress others can be the source of discovery, but it can also be problematic.  First, the question of whom to impress arises.  Mozart did not have to decide at that age.  The primary target was his father, the secondary, those his father wanted to impress.   Everyone has a target crowd.  But, who is really worth catering to? Are individuals supposed to go around like politicians, changing tactics in order to gain artistic experience?

Second, typecasting.  When one devotes numerous hours into one region of talent, it becomes hard to grow beyond it.  Mozart had been branded as a child prodigy.  Leopold lied about his son’s age to extend that brand.  But, it could never be a sustainable brand.  Mozart would eventually have to grow up.

Last, if one wants to something great, he or she has to venture beyond what others request or expect.  Not too many people will remember that one guy who sung that one song that one time.  But, just ask people, “Who’s the King of Rock and Roll?”  We remember those who discover the new different. Even once someone has created something new, it may likely take time for someone to appreciate it.  Some artist’s don’t even get validation within their lifetime. 

Then, fact is, just because something is different doesn’t mean it is quality. (It’s quite subjective. I realize.)  Discovering breakthrough work without creating overreaching wannabe garbage is an anvil to the cranium headache. However, Mozart did it, in spite of his father’s nagging to stick with the popular. 

K. 22, Symphony no. 5 in B-flat

K. 22, Symphony no. 5 in B-flat

After Nannerl fell ill, Mozart joined.  It took months for both to recover.  During this time, Mozart wrote K. 22.  First thing I noticed was a new manner of horn use.  Was it something about The Hague that requested horns?  Was it his illness?  Or musical exploration?  There is something about horns that is declarative.  As opposed to the questioning strings and winds.  K. 22’s first movement starts of with a triumphant declaration—like that of a noble child raising his arms walking down the red carpet.  But suddenly, he swoons as he marches.  The allegro movement’s mood switches with such immediate intensity. 

The andante movement’s first horn blasts proclaim sorrow has arrived, the winds and strings mourn the announcement.  As the movement flows, it hints hope suggesting good might just come from the tragedy.  All the while, still weeping.  I can’t help but think of Leopold letter’s recounting his conversation with Nannerl as she neared death.  Trying to comfort her, suggesting God takes the innocent to spare them from the world’s corruptions.  Had such conversations affected this work?  Or even other pieces?

The third movement’s horn announces all is right once again.  Did this reflect Mozart yearning in the midst of his sickness?  The winds and strings chime in, ‘we have gone through hard times but they’re over now.’  Together they celebrate and reflect.     

K. 23, Conservati Fedele

K. 23, Conservati Fedele

Out of England, off to The Hague.  It is fitting that K. 23 is clearly a goodbye aria, solemn in its sound and lyrics.  Goodbye to what? London?  Or Nannerl?  His sister became deathly sick while in The Hague.  She received the rite of extreme unction.   Her unction and this song’s composition happened in October of 1765.  Leopold wrote in his letters that as he and his wife prayed with Nannerl struggling with life’s hard questions, little Mozart played his violin in the next room.  Leopold seems to suggest that Mozart was unaware of serious nature concerning Nannerl’s sickness.  But, sometimes that’s the power of art.  Mozart may have been either escaping or expressing the feeling he could quite convey via physical actions.  Most likely both. 

There is just something about historical artists of a certain greatest that made them unable to connect with average folks.  In addition, they also couldn’t simply bottle up their feelings in a John-Wayne-suck-it-up manner.  Examples of such artists Poe and Van Gogh come to mind.  And, thus mediums with staying power were born.  How many of these artists grew increasingly dejected because they felt as if no one heard them?  How many people with this mentality, think thusly? 

Conservati fedele may have possibly grown into an expression of goodbye for Mozart.  It was once revised for Princess Carolina.  I haven’t found out yet, but she must have played an important role in Mozart’s life.  (I will explore the Mozarts’ relationship with Princess Carolina as I delve into the next set of violin sonatas.)   I could imagine seeing woman cry as she listened to young Mozart’s revision.