Richard Bratby

The marvel of Mozart’s letters

Composers’ letters can make frustrating reading. But with Mozart, you get the whole personality — candid, perceptive, irresistibly alive and packed with filth

A family portrait of the Mozarts (c.1780) by Johann Nepomuk della Croce. Wolfgang, centre, with his sister Maria Anna ('Nannerl') and father Leopold. Image: Universal History Archive / Getty Images 
issue 18 April 2020

It’s 1771, you’re in Milan, and your 14-year-old genius son has just premièred his new opera. How do you reward him? What would be a fun family excursion in an era before multiplexes or theme parks? Leopold Mozart knew just the ticket. ‘I saw four rascals hanged here on the Piazza del Duomo,’ wrote young Wolfgang back to his sister Maria Anna (‘Nannerl’), excitedly. ‘They hang them just as they do in Lyons.’ He was already something of a connoisseur of public executions. The Mozarts had spent four weeks in Lyons in 1766 and as the music historian Stanley Sadie points out, Leopold had clearly taken his son (ten) and daughter (15) along to a hanging ‘for a jolly treat one free afternoon’.

Mozart’s letters deliver many such jolts — reminders that, however directly we might feel that Mozart’s music speaks to us, he’s not a man of our time. But for every shock of difference, there’s a start of recognition.

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