Christmas Markets

We are in Salzburg, the town that gave birth to Mozart, and we saw not only the house in which he was born, but also a different house where he lived as a youth.

I stood there in rapt admiration along with the rest of the tourists. Christmas Markets, the cathedral, and the castle overlooking the town are all magnificent. Salzburg is named for the legendary salt mines that have yielded their life-giving nutrient since Celtic times. It is no accident that the Roman soldiers here were paid in salt, hence the word “salary.”

Somehow as we admired the many charms of this town, however, I couldn’t get my mind off another Mozart. I suspect that without him, we may have never heard of Wolfgang.

The man I have in mind is Leopold Mozart, Wolfgang’s father. History has given him a bad rap. He is depicted as a paternal tyrant who beat his two kids into practicing their keyboard skills for no less than fourteen hours each day, and then hauling his wunderkind around the courts of Europe, making them perform like trained monkeys.

But I wonder . . .

Had it not been for Leopold, we may never have heard of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

Leopold had been a choirboy in his native town of Augsburg. He could sing remarkably well and was often invited to perform in choirs of churches other than his own. His father, a successful bookbinder, saw to it that Leopold received music lessons, and he became an accomplished violinist and organist.

Although he had graduated with honors from his local school in Augsburg, when his father died in 1737 Leopold was struggling to find himself. He moved from Augsburg to Salzburg in order to study law and philosophy at the university. His parents had wanted him to be a priest, but he was more interested in science. Microscopes and telescopes interested him far more than religion.

Things did not go well in school. He missed classes, not so much because he was derelict, but because needed to supplement his income. He did this by grabbing music gigs wherever he could find them. He was suspended from the university twice, and after two years, the school expelled him. Luckily his musical skills got him a job in the local orchestra of the Archbishop-Prince.

Ever the pragmatist, Leopold excelled, becoming violinist and valet to one of the university canons. In 1740 he began to compose and publish his own compositions and to teach musicology. Within a few years he had enough money to marry. In the next few years he published over two dozen keyboard and orchestral compositions and a textbook on musical theory. The prince made him the assistant conductor of the orchestra and the assistant royal kappelmeister (choir director).

Were they not overshadowed by the compositions of his son, Leopold Mozart’s works would be played today much more often than they are.

And overshadowed they were.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart began performing standard repertory works publicly at the age of three. He began publishing his own piano works at the age of six.

You know the rest of the story. You have heard everything from the charming Eine Kleine Nachtmusik to the powerful, unfinished Requiem in D minor.

But there may also be a few pieces of the puzzle we may have missed. For example, long after Leopold died, Wolfgang still sat at the keyboard over sixteen hours a day, without the prompting of his father. Wolfgang wrote the opera, “The Magic Flute,” which includes many references to the Freemasons, as a tribute to his late father.

Another piece of the puzzle lies in the fact that Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was considered by many who knew him to be a nincompoop. He had a kind of screaming, cackling laugh which erupted at inopportune times. There are some suggestions that he often farted loudly, then laughed uproariously about it. He could not handle money. He may have delighted in poking people in their private parts just for fun and then screaming with laughter. It may be that he had something like Aspberger’s syndrome, Tourette’s syndrome or some qualities of a savant. It is as though all of his creative powers were funneled into composition rather than socialization.

But, oh! Could he write music!

Could it be that Leopold understood these things about his son and wanted to assure that he could make a living?

Leopold was unusual in another way. Not only did he train his son to be a musician, he also taught a daughter. Maria Anna Mozart, nicknamed “Nannerl,” was six years older than Wolfgang, but Leopold trained her as he later trained Wolfgang. It was Nannerl who shared her piano lessons with her baby brother and got him started tinkering around at the keyboard. She also became a celebrated child prodigy and traveled to the royal courts of Europe in their concert tours at a time when girls performing publicly was unthinkable.

Wolfgang adored his sister and considered her to be a better pianist than himself. She ended her career at age 17, returned to Salzburg, and became a noted music teacher. Marrying at age 33, she left her hometown. When her husband died in 1801, she returned to Salzburg, resumed teaching music, and performed regularly here.

She is known to have composed music, though none of her manuscripts survive. I have to wonder whether some of her compositions might have eclipsed her brother’s.

After Wolfgang died at age 35, she became THE authority about his life, contributing to the works of the many biographers who elevated her little brother into the musical pantheon.

So today as I stand in Salzburg, I celebrate the memory and accomplishments of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, who contributed to my own young life more than I can describe.

But I also celebrate the enormous talents of the other Mozarts.Read more