This week’s theme is…Shuffling Off! Musicians are human, and humans die, often with works in progress. These unfinished works form a tantalizing “what would have been”. Sometimes they are finished by crafty folks who aim for the double bar. Sometimes it is interesting to listen to them as they remain, a fascinating window into the creative process of a genius, cut short by the mortality we all share.
Shuffling Off, Day 4 – Requiem by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
I fear the Mozart Requiem is a piece I will never really be able to hear with “fresh ears”. What I mean is that it is so laden with emotional, conceptual and aesthetic baggage from my personal history that I am always hearing it through a bunch of overlapping lenses. First of all, it was the centerpiece of one of the earliest classical concerts I remember attending. This occurred just as I was developing an interest in classical music so it has something of a cherished place in my mind, saturated with the enthusiasm and majesty of the experience, even if it was a community orchestra and choir. In preparation for that concert the piece was considerably talked up by music teachers as an immortal masterpiece and transcendent listening experience. Similar baggage has been overlaid from performing the Requiem, and hearing similar enthusiasm from conductors and fellow performers. This is of course not to deride a wonderful masterpiece, which it certainly is, but I do wonder if a listener, having been cleansed of his preconceived notions, and comparing the Requiem to a handful of Mozart’s other late works, say his last piano concerto, the Magic Flute, the Clemency of Titus, his Masonic Cantata, or his quintet with glass harmonica (see this post), would favor the Requiem in any particular way. Perhaps he would, but I still have to wonder.
The other major culprit which is responsible for having layered considerable psychological baggage about the experience of the Mozart Requiem, baggage that is incredibly difficult to shed, is the movie Amadeus. Now, if you are a faithful reader, you may remember earlier references to this film (like here and here) and if you do then you know I am a fan and typically recommend it. This is still true. But I would take care to warn prospective viewers of Amadeus of the resulting associations they will forever carry with the Requiem, no matter how hard they try to escape, and in spite of the more or less commonly understood fact that the central premise of the film, Antonio Salieri’s intense jealousy and intended murder of Mozart, is most certainly legendary and apocryphal. Still, it is easy to be swept away by the crackling drama of the film, and the Requiem serves as a cohesive focal point around which to stage it.
(!Spoiler Alert!) In Amadeus Salieri, mad with envy for Mozart’s superior musical aptitude, eventually seeks every opportunity to sabotage him professionally and, eventually, to hurt him personally, even plotting his murder (it is reported that Salieri had confessed to this on his deathbed, possibly due to the senility of old age). The final scenes, in which Mozart’s death appears imminent and Salieri manipulates his way into his inner circle, are bathed in the music of the Requiem, indeed they focus on its composition as Salieri takes dictation from the muse of Mozart. In the film the narrating Salieri, years later, reveals that it was his plan to murder Mozart (or let him die – this is not quite clear) and then to pass off the Requiem as his own in honor of his deceased friend, finally recognized for the sublime art he has longed to create since beholding Mozart’s befuddling powers. To facilitate the commission, Salieri dons an imposing cape and mask to hide his identity during all transactions surrounding the Requiem (in the film it is a reference to Wolfgang’s strict father, Leopold – see this post – the evocation of whom has dramatic psychological effect on the younger composer), claiming to represent a wealthy patron. He comes so close to seeing his plan through that he can taste it, but Mozart dies too soon and Salieri later is shown at his funeral, supremely frustrated by what could have been… In scenes leading up to the finale we see other depictions of Mozart and Salieri together, for example at the Magic Flute, where Salieri compliments the work. That the terse dramatization is fiction is obvious, but fascinatingly there are a handful of truths, both explicit and thematic, present within the twists and turns of the plot.
Salieri and Mozart were acquainted, even familiar. Generally it is thought that Salieri regarded Mozart well, although there are speculations that he attempted to frustrate the career of the younger composer, understandably if at all sensed his powerful position as director of the Habsburg opera was at all threatened by the young upstart. These are difficult to substantiate, however. Mozart would have served Salieri well as a creator, so long as he did not become a competitor. There is evidence of their mutual admiration, and it is true that Salieri attended The Magic Flute, as well as other works by Mozart, and was complimentary. Two other elements ring true, although their stories are at once more banal and simultaneously more fascinating (in my opinion) than those the high drama of Amadeus.
That Mozart transacted exclusively with a mysterious veiled figure representing a wealthy patron is true. An Austrian nobleman named Franz von Walsegg had an odd penchant for taking credit for various composers’ creations. He would commission them anonymously, copy the parts into his own hand without the true composer’s name, and have his house musicians perform them. He always made sure to get complete rights over the commissioned works in order to avoid the possibility of trained ears hearing them elsewhere; the composers probably didn’t care as long as they received their due, which was always generous. Apparently his house musicians knew what was up, but didn’t let on, either out of affection or pity. As a side note, I sometimes wonder if it is more fulfilling to be extremely secure financially, with little in the way of creative legacy, or to be impoverished and leave a substantial creative legacy. The story of Walsegg gives clear indication of the longing one may experience with the former. And in hindsight, few would switch places with him, whereas at present few may switch places with Mozart who was practically Walsegg’s inversion. Anyway, Walsegg’s young wife had died in 1791, almost a year before Mozart, and the aristocrat sought a musical Requiem mass to claim as his own and present annually on the anniversary of her death, hence Mozart’s commission and dealings with the anonymous agent. Incidentally, Mozart’s untimely death in the middle of his work on the Requiem put Walsegg in a tricky spot given Constanza’s legal and financial machinations. You can read more about the details of that fascinating story here:
http://www.salieri-online.com/mozreq/pg1.php
That Mozart may have had something of a secretary during his work on the Requiem is also based in fact. It was not his archenemy Salieri as Amadeus suggests (exaggerating both his intimacy and enmity with Salieri), but a composer named Franz Xaver Sussmayr. With ambitions to write Italian opera, Sussmayr had studied with Salieri, and after this became something of a friend and apprentice to Mozart. The two traveled together and Sussmayr, perhaps among other efforts, is recorded to have written much of the dry, extensive recitative of Mozart’s penultimate stage work, the Italian serious opera The Clemency of Titus. This stands with Idomeneo (see this post) as Mozart’s finest contributions to the genre; his most famous operas are German or Italian comedies.
It is thought that, given Sussmayr’s intimacy with Mozart, he was privy to much of the process that yielded the Requiem. Constanze, eager to collect the balance of Walsegg’s invoice, tapped him to complete the Requiem. Exactly how much of the final work is Mozart and how much is Sussmayr is difficult to discern, but certain movements are clear enough. The opening Requiem is the only movement completed in full by Mozart. Others remained unfinished, or unorchestrated, while others were not composed at all, and so Sussmayr wrestled with a variety of tasks through his process of completion. It seems certain to say that Sussmayr composed the Agnus Dei from scratch. The following movements, which close the mass, use material from the beginning, certainly by Mozart. Can you tell the difference between Sussmayr and Mozart?
It is difficult for me to listen past all of the lore, legend, and personal associations with Mozart’s requiem and hear the purity of the music underneath, but if I tried, I might say that it is illustrative of the near superhuman transparency and elegance which characterizes all of Mozart’s late works. The opening bars of the Requiem are sublimely orchestrated, and the vocal entrances convey loss and awe given the eternal journey ahead which Mozart would have regarded through a very Catholic lens as he prepared to make it himself. Sometimes I wish I could wipe all of the baggage from my mind, unsee Amadeus, and discover the Requiem as a more or less anonymous work of his late years in order to make a fresh evaluation free of influence. Alas, that is not the world in which we live, and I simply have to be content to roll the legends and the drama which surround the story of a flawed man but great composer into my experience of the Requiem, his unfinished masterpiece.
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