7pm Pre-concert talk by SSU musicologist John Palmer, an engaging writer and speaker, who has presented at the San Francisco Symphony and San Francisco Opera.

Underwritten by the Donald and Maureen Green Foundation.

 

All Tickets $20

Program Notes
by: Robert Worth

The theme for tonight’s concert is drawn from H.C. Robbins Landon’s 1988 study, 1791: Mozart’s Last Year. The book is a model of accessible musicology, combining copious documentation and analysis with an eminently readable style to tell one of the most gripping tales of music history. The Los Angeles Times said, in reviewing the book, “At once a detective story, a cultural history of music, a sober, respectful evaluation of documents…and a work of love.” Robbins Landon considers not only the great last works themselves, but also their context: Freemasonry in Vienna; concert life in the capital; an exciting and exhausting trip to Prague; particulars of Mozart’s domestic circumstances; and, of course, the peculiar events which gave rise to the Requiem. Even the layout of the apartment in which Mozart spent his last days is considered, with diagrams and an inventory of contents.

Mozart went out quite literally at the top of his game, and the old lament for unwritten works, standard for any artist lost young, has never rung more true than when applied to Mozart. Our selection of works from Mozart’s last year gives an idea of the variety and incredible wealth of the master’s output; notes below draw largely on Robbins Landon’s book, with particular emphasis on contemporary sources; if you are intrigued, by all means, run (do not walk) to your local bookseller and order a copy!

Overture to Die Zauberflöte: The Magic Flute opened on September 30, 1791, in Emanuel Schikaneder’s Theater auf den Wieden. It was an immediate popular success, though it does not seem to have provided enough income to lift Mozart out of desperate financial straits. The opera tells a tall tale of a heroic quest, with plenty of low humor and Masonic symbolism thrown in; and, of course, some of the most sublime music ever written. The full range is telegraphed by the overture, with its solemn fanfares and ridiculous imitative themes.

In letters to his wife, Mozart expresses great delight with the opera, and relates a number of anecdotes, including the following:

I went behind the stage for Papageno’s aria with the glockenspiel, because I had an urge to play it myself. I then made a joke, and when Schikaneder had a speech, I played an arpeggio—he jumped—looked behind the scenery and saw me—when it happened the second time—I didn’t play—now he stopped and didn’t want to go on—I read his thoughts and played a chord again—then he struck his glockenspiel and said, ‘Shut up’—whereupon everybody laughed.

Kleine Freimaurerkantate: The Little Masonic Cantata was premiered on November 15, 1791, only three weeks before Mozart’s death. It was written for the opening of the new meeting-hall of the Masonic lodge to which Mozart belonged, Zur gekrönten Hoffnung. In mood and style, it shares far more with the joyous, ebullient passages of The Magic Flute than with the Requiem, on which he was also at work at this time.

Mozart’s lodge provided direct support for Mozart’s young widow, Constanze, and their two children, after the composer’s death. In addition, it generously made the score to the Masonic cantata available for publication, as detailed in the following newspaper notice published in January, 1792:

Cantata by Mozart: For the benefit of his widow and orphans…A swan-song, the performance of which he conducted in a circle of his best friends two days before his final illness. It is a cantata for the opening of a Freemasons’ Lodge in Vienna, the words by a member…

Overture to La Clemenza di Tito: Mozart was commissioned to write this opera seria, with libretto by Metastasio, for the coronation of the emperor Leopold II in Prague, in early September, 1791. Written at breakneck speed, perhaps at least partially in the carriage en route, the work tells of the Roman Emperor, Titus, who, after surviving an assassination plot, Program Notes By Robert Worth 8 Santa Rosa Symphony • www.santarosasymphony.com forgives his potential assassins, demonstrating his mildness and mercy.

Franz Niemetschek, an early writer on Mozart and source of much information on the Requiem, wrote in 1794:

Tito was given at the time of the coronation as a gratis opera, and then given several more times; but as fate willed it, a miserable castrato and a prima donna who sang more with her hands than her throat, and whom one had to consider a lunatic, sang the principal parts… since it is—shame on our age!—a serious opera, it pleased less in general than its really heavenly music deserved…the vocal parts, let it be said, are throughout, but especially in the andantes, full of emotion and expression; the choruses are full of pomp and dignity; in short, Gluck’s dignity is united to Mozart’s original art, his flowing sense of emotion and his wholly magnificent harmonies.

Ave verum corpus: Mozart’s autograph of this beautiful miniature is dated June 17, 1791. It was written for his friend Anton Stoll, and was performed first at the parish church of Baden on the feast of Corpus Christi in that year.

On this piece, we cannot do better than to listen to the commentary of Robbins Landon:

With this composition…Mozart was establishing what he considered to be a new style of church music…To the connoisseur, its one unusual modulation towards the middle to F—the work is in D major—and its canonic entries at the end reveal that a master hand is behind it all, but the dominant note is one of directness and simplicity… Even in his church music, Mozart was an inspired product of the Enlightenment: vox populi=vox Dei, that is, a return to the voice of the people in its simplest and most basic form, implying a kind of truth which in turn was considered to have a touch of the divine.

Requiem in D Minor: The story of this beloved masterpiece, left unfinished by Mozart and then completed in secret, is inextricably bound up with the tragedy of the composer’s untimely death, at the age of 35, in December, 1791. Once again, we turn to contemporary accounts:

Statements based upon accounts by Mozart’s wife Constanze, from the earliest Mozart biography:

The story of his last work, the Requiem, is as obscure as it is strange. Shortly before the coronation of Emperor Leopold, a letter without signature was brought to him by an unknown messenger, which with many flattering remarks contained an enquiry as to whether he would be willing to undertake to write a Requiem Mass for the Dead. What would be the cost, and how long would it take to complete? After consideration, Mozart replied that he would write a Requiem for a given sum; he could not state exactly how long it would take. He however wished to know where the work was to be delivered when ready. In a short while the same messenger appeared again, bringing back not only the sum stipulated, but also the promise, as Mozart had been so modest in his price, that he would receive another payment upon completion of the composition. He should, moreover, write according to his own ideas and moods, but should not attempt to discover who had given the order.

(After a journey to Prague) Mozart started at once on his Requiem Mass, and worked at it with great energy and interest; but his illness increased visibly and made him depressed. One day, Mozart spoke (to Constanze) of death, and declared that he was writing the Requiem for himself. The speech fell like a load on his wife’s heart. She was unable to console him. As she felt that he was on the verge of a serious illness, and that the Requiem was getting on his over-sensitive nerves, she called in the doctor, and took the score of the composition away from him.

His health actually improved somewhat, and he was able to finish a small cantata which had been ordered by a Society for a celebration. He became more cheerful, and repeatedly expressed the desire to continue and finish the Requiem. His wife could no longer find an excuse for witholding his music. This hopeful state of affairs was but short-lived; in a few days he became despondent once more, weaker and more listless, until he sank back into his sick-bed, from which, alas, he never rose again.

On the day of his death, he asked for the score to be brought to his bedside. “Did I not say before, that I was writing this Requiem for myself?” After saying this, he looked yet again with tears in his eyes through the whole work, which was destined to become immortal.

From the memoirs of Sophie Haibl, Mozart’s sister-in-law:

My poor sister came after me and begged to go to St. Peter’s, and ask one of the priests to come. Then I ran back to my inconsolable sister. Süssmayr was there at Mozart’s bedside; and the well-known Requiem lay on the coverlet, and Mozart was explaining to him how he thought he should finish it after his death. There was a long search for the doctor—then he came and prescribed cold compresses on his burning head, and these gave him such a shock that he did not regain consciousness before he passed away. The last thing he did was to try to mouth the sound of the timpani in his Requiem; I can still hear it now. I cannot possibly describe the boundless misery of his faithful wife as she threw herself on her knees. She could not tear herself from him; if her grief had been susceptible to increase, it must have been increased on the day after that terrible night by people passing by in crowds, lamenting him loudly.

The Requiem survives in two forms: Mozart’s score, which is complete only for the first movement and lacks the last three movements entirely, and the completion by Mozart’s student Franz Xaver Süssmayr. The controversy over Süssmayr’s involvement in the composition of the Requiem has raged unabated in musicological circles since his role was first revealed. The central question is clear: How could one of our great masterworks have been substantially written by an unknown composer, whose other surviving works are of no particular merit? A number of more or less drastic rewritings have been made; I personally prefer a healthy dose of Süssmayr with the Mozart Requiem. We present for you tonight Franz Beyer’s edition, which preserves much of Süssmayr’s work, but replaces his orchestration in a number of passages.

Many thanks for joining us tonight; we hope you enjoy 1791: Mozart’s Last Year!