August 13, 1792. The sun had already set when the old cart drove up to the gates of the building that had once been home to the Templars in the French capital, and was therefore known as the Temple. Louis XVI, Marie Antoinette and their two children would now live there in captivity.
That evening, the prisoners sat down to supper in a large room, the appearance of which we know from the famous painting Tea Given by the Prince of Conti. In it is pictured a child who, some years earlier, had entertained the former residents of the palace with his harpsichord playing. The painting seems to transmit the echo of the melodies that sounded through corridors of the building, in contrast with the tragic situation now faced by the unfortunate couple… What a difference between the innocent little harpsichordist, whose music once brightened the sumptuous Rococo era, and the rudeness of the reality now surrounding the queen.
If only Marie Antoinette had been able to enjoy the company of that little boy during the last months of her life, it would undoubtedly have been a source of consolation for her to recall the happy day when, while she was yet a resident of the splendid Schönbrunn Palace in Austria, he had “proposed” to her, certainly drawing a smile from the entire imperial family.
But that child, the symbol of a dying era, had died prematurely months before: he was Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
“Tea given by the Prince of Conti”, by Michel-Barthélémy Ollivier – Versailles (France)
Qualities that reveal a lofty divine calling
The Creator endows every human being with certain capacities, which render Him glory by their very existence. But this is not enough; He wants these abilities to be developed and used as instruments to elevate others to more sublime realities. Someone, for example, who has received a musical talent from God ought to serve as a bridge for his listeners to experience the delights of Paradise.
Is there anyone who has never marvelled at the variety of movements, subtleties and charms of at least some from among the 754 pieces1 by the famous Austrian composer? One does not have to be an expert to appreciate Mozart’s God-given prowess. Many of his pieces seem to transport us from the hectic context in which we live to a serene and affable bygone era, or perhaps to a marvellous and perfect world reminiscent of that of the Angels in Heaven.
What were the divine designs for such a beautifully adorned soul? Let’s take a look at the life of this character and try to better understand the sublime calling he received from God.
“It is hard not to love him”
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was born on January 27, 1756 in the city of Salzburg, present-day Austria. Baptized the following day, he was given the name Johannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus Mozart – the seventh and last child of Leopold Mozart and Anna Maria Pertl.
From an early age, the boy showed his innate talent, which prompted his father, a renowned and experienced musician, to dedicate himself almost exclusively to his musical training and that of his sister, Maria Anna, nicknamed Nannerl.
Accounts of his childhood suggest that he was a loving and amiable child who shone for his innocence and had not a hint of shyness. This is how the composer Hasse described him: “Handsome, vivacious, graceful and exceedingly well-bred; knowing him, it is hard not to love him.”2
A boy on the Empress’ lap
At around five years old, the adventures of this child prodigy began when he composed his first songs. Leopold, believing in the divine miracle behind such a portent and seeing himself obliged to announce it to the world – an obligation undertaken not without a certain interest, of course – organized his first public appearance at the University of Salzburg in September 1761, beginning a tour of the Old Continent the following year.
The first destination was Munich – where Mozart performed for the Prince Elector of Bavaria, Maximilian III Joseph – and later the musical capital of the time, Vienna. There he culminated his journey by appearing before the imperial family at Schönbrunn Palace.
The occasion was a symbolic meeting in Mozart’s life. The little boy, a veritable bibelot in lilac suit and taffeta waistcoat adorned with gold braid, had the misfortune of slipping and falling. On the verge of tears, he was helped to his feet and consoled by an archduchess who had taken a liking to him: Marie Antoinette of Habsburg, who would later become Queen of France.
Mozart on the lap of Empress Maria Theresa – 18th-century postcard
For years to come, the story would be told of how, on that same occasion, little Wolfgang sat unhesitatingly on the lap of the matriarchal fortress that was Empress Maria Theresa, hugged her, kissed her warmly and, pointing to the princess who had helped him, said:
“Someday, I will marry her!”
“And why?” – asked the empress.
“Because she was kind to me.”
It was a curious display of innocent affection between two souls marked by incomparable delicacy and grace. You could almost say that Mozart’s work was nothing other than Marie Antoinette put to music, just as you could say that Marie Antoinette was the music of the Ancien Régime embodied in a lady.
Was there some design of Providence behind the friendship born between these “compendiums” of an entire mentality and historical era? It is hard to know for sure, as their affinity did not have the opportunity to develop further.
Twenty years in Europe
The astute Leopold Mozart planned his son’s journeys down to the last detail, coordinating his elementary musical studies with an exhausting itinerary of concerts – all without excluding the practice of Catholic piety. The pace sometimes took a toll on the child’s health who, despite the delight he took in music, often fell ill.
In 1763, after a brief return home, another three-year tour of Europe began. Countries such as Germany, France, England, the Netherlands and Switzerland were the destinations this time, with frequent performances for the high aristocracy. In Versailles, for example, the child was heard by Louis XV and in London by George III. In England, he was befriended by Johann Christian Bach – son of Johann Sebastian Bach and a convert to Catholicism – and became familiar with his compositions. Mozart most likely also came into contact with the work of George Frederick Handel on this trip. During his stay in Paris, Wolfgang published his first piece of music.
Not even a year had passed since their return to Salzburg when the family set off again for Vienna. During this time, the smallpox that was then spreading infected the two children, leaving indelible scars on Mozart’s face.
At the end of 1769, father and son set off for Italy, but not before first making stops at important European musical centres. Having arrived in the Eternal City, it was enough for the boy to twice hear Allegri’s famous Miserere – copies of which were strictly forbidden by the Vatican – to transcribe it from memory with the utmost precision. When the news of the “transgression” reached the ears of the Supreme Pontiff Clement XIV, the latter, enraptured by such a portent, instead of ordering Mozart to be punished, conferred on him the rank of knight in the Order of the Golden Spur.
The boy’s skills developed rapidly, and with them his prestige and output only increased.
The first setbacks
However, as with any son of Adam in this land of exile, setbacks soon appeared on the horizon. In Salzburg, Wolfgang worked for the Archbishop, also the reigning sovereign of that land. With the appointment of Hieronymus von Colloredo to the post, a new and difficult stage in Mozart’s life began. The support he had from the previous prelate ceased with his successor to the episcopal see, who was inflexible about his salary and concerts outside the city. This led the young composer to look for better positions, especially in Vienna, but without success.
France seemed to provide the solution. During a stay in Paris, he was offered the position of organist at the royal chapel in Versailles, with a good stipend. There he would be in constant contact with the king and queen, in a fairly stable routine, but Mozart’s goals were quite different… and he turned down the offer. Marie Antoinette had another opportunity to “be kind” to Wolfgang, but his receptivity was no longer the same as in his childhood.
At left, posthumous portrait of Mozart, by Barbara Krafft – Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde, Vienna; at right, Marie Antoinette – Private collection
It would be difficult, if not impossible, to calculate what consequences the musician’s presence could have had for the social order in the nation of St. Louis. Who can say if, by the sublimity of his harmonies, he might not have contributed on a tendential level to breaking some of the momentum of the 1789 Revolution, and its gratuitous hatred of Marie Antoinette?
Moreover, how would young Wolfgang’s personality have developed in that environment? The French court deserved censure from many points of view, but it was not so tainted by the atmosphere of egalitarianism and lack of formality that Joseph II fostered in Vienna. And yet it was in the latter city that Mozart was to spend the last decade of his life.
A time of change
Every human being is social by nature, so those who make up the surrounds of each individual have a profound influence on their character. From the beginning of creation, God established: “It is not good that the man should be alone” (Gn 2:18). And this reality goes beyond the natural realm an applies, above all, to the spiritual realm, where a guide is indispensable in order to stay on God’s path.
Unfortunately, the composer found no such support at this stage of his life. While still in Paris, another misfortune came knocking at his door: the death of his beloved mother. Mozart now lacked someone to help him in the practise of virtue. As a result, at the very moment when Europe was being ravaged by Enlightenment ideas, the young genius’ soul was undergoing tempestuous circumstances…
The charming, innocent and amiable boy had changed over the years. Adulthood brought out indelible and frivolous traits in Wolfgang, starting with his refusal to submit to paternal authority, as well as the emergence of a proud, vulgar and coarse character, and obvious irresponsibility in the management of finances and life in general. Old Leopold admonished him, deeply disturbed by these developments.
The end of his days in Vienna
In 1781, the composer left old Salzburg for cosmopolitan Vienna. During this last period of his life, which had a prosperous beginning, he composed significant works such as The Marriage of Figaro, Idomeneo, Don Giovanni, The Magic Flute, Requiem and Ave Verum corpus. Mozart also met the famous musician Joseph Haydn at this time, whom he continued to consider a friend and great inspiration until the end of his life.
A little over a year after his arrival in Vienna, Mozart entered St. Stephen’s Cathedral and married Constanze Weber. From this union, six children were born, only two of whom survived beyond childhood. Many portray his wife as irresponsible and capricious, although it is difficult to reconcile this idea with her later behaviour. What is certain, however, is that she did not prove to be the supernatural and religious support that our composer so desperately needed.
Despite his numerous concerts, new financial difficulties arose and with them came physical decline. His health, which had never been very vigorous, began to decline rapidly and incomprehensibly, and on December 5, 1791, at the age of thirty-five, he closed his eyes to this earth for good.
A look back
Knowing Mozart’s life, as intense as it was short, as fruitful as it was troubled, as sublime as it was tragic, one gets the impression that something was left incomplete in the composer’s existence.
Monument to Mozart, Vienna
Every man is called to holiness, and to the extent that he fails to reach this universal goal, something of his work is tarnished, however brilliant it may have been. The achievements of each human being can therefore be seen as a mixture of light and darkness, in which one or the other becomes more prominent as the person moves closer to or further away from the divine plan.
What would have become of that Amadeus – beloved of God – if he had responded to the love that came from above? What diaphanous works would he have composed? What good might he have done? What evil would he have avoided?
All in all, let’s not dwell on the evils of his life, but rather on the moments when his vocation shone through, thanks to the whiteness of that innocence that is mirrored in many of his works.
On the day of the Last Judgement, when the Book of Life is opened, we hope to discover that, through divine mercy, Our Lady took pity on the bohemian composer – just as Marie Antoinette took pity on the little boy in the lilac waistcoat who slipped on the floor in Vienna – and helped him up, not to climb into the lap of an empress of this world, but to carry him, herself, in her virginal arms. And that, through the intercession of the Mediatrix of all graces, this soul may have achieved much more in Heaven than he did on earth. ◊
Notes
1 Of these, 132 were never completed (cf. COMBARIEU, Jules. Histoire de la musique. Des origines à la mort de Beethoven. Paris: Armand Colin, 1913, v II, p.537).
2 LANDON, H. C. Robbins (Org.). Mozart, um compêndio. Guia completo da música e da vida de Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Rio de Janeiro: Jorge Zahar, 1996, p.123.
