“The following concert gave proof of how still everyone's hearts are attached to Mozart. [...] Does it not seem as if Mozart's works grow ever fresher the more one hears them!” — Robert Schumann, “The Subscription Concerts in Leipzig from 1840-1841”. Felix Mendelssohn performed the Piano Concerto No. 20 at this concert.

“I should feel only too happy to renounce all my virtues in exchange for Mozart's sins [...] I could not venture to pronounce on the extent of his virtues.” — letter of Mendelssohn

Mozart's Piano Concerto No. 20 (1st, 2nd, 3rd movements), with cadenzas by Beethoven


“Cramer's widow communicates a pleasant anecdote. At an Augarten Concert the two pianists were walking together and hearing a performance of Mozart's Pianoforte Concerto [No. 24] in C minor; Beethoven suddenly stood still and, directing his companion's attention to the exceedingly simple, but equally beautiful motive which is first introduced towards the end of the piece, exclaimed: ‘Cramer, Cramer! we shall never be able to do anything like that!’ As the theme was repeated and wrought up to the climax, Beethoven, swaying his body to and fro, marked the time and in every possible manner manifested a delight rising to enthusiasm.” — Thayer's Life of Beethoven

“I have always accounted myself one of Mozart's greatest admirers, and shall continue to be so to my last breath.” — letter of Beethoven, 1826


Some say that you can hear the seeds of La Marseillaise, and the famous fate motif of Beethoven's 5th, in Mozart's Piano Concerto No. 25.

(Speaking of national anthems, you might also like to compare Mozart's ‘March of the Priests’ to “O Canada”!)

Misericordias Domini. Listen for a surprising melody!


Laudate Dominum

Flute and Harp Concerto (2nd movement)

“This bright, light, beautiful day will remain with me for the rest of my life. The magical tones of Mozart's music still resound softly from afar. How incredibly powerful and yet so gentle it was, etched deep, deep in my heart by Schlesinger’s masterful playing. Thus do these beautiful imprints, which no time or circumstances can erase, and which have a beneficent effect on our very existence, remain in our souls. In the darkness of this life they show us a light, bright, beautiful distance for which we can hope with confidence. Oh Mozart, immortal Mozart, how many, oh how infinitely many comforting perceptions of a brighter, better life have you imprinted on our souls!” — Franz Schubert's diary entry of 13 June 1816. (He had likely heard a performance of the string quintet in G minor.)

‘Haffner’ Serenade


Violin Sonata No. 33 (2nd movement)


Qui tollis


“To my dear friend Haydn,
A father who had resolved to send his children out into the great world took it to be his duty to confide them to the protection and guidance of a very celebrated Man, especially when the latter by good fortune was at the same time his best Friend. Here they are then, O great Man and my dearest Friend, these six children of mine. They are, it is true, the fruit of a long and laborious endeavour, yet the hope inspired in me by several Friends that my efforts may be at least somewhat rewarded encourages me, and I flatter myself that this offspring will serve to afford me some solace one day. [...] May it therefore please you to receive them kindly and to be their Father, Guide and Friend! From this moment I resign to you all my rights in them, begging you however to look indulgently upon the defects which the partiality of a Father’s eye may have concealed from me, and in spite of them to continue in your generous Friendship for him who so greatly values it, while I remain, Dearest Friend, with all my heart, your most Sincere Friend,
W. A. Mozart”
— Mozart's dedication to Haydn of his set of six string quartets, of which the last one starts in a rather surprising way


“Ralph wrote of his meetings and lessons with Ravel: He was much puzzled at our first interview. When I had shown him some of my work he said that for my first lessons I had better ‘écrire un petit menuet dans le style de Mozart’. I saw at once that it was time to act promptly, so I said in my best French, ‘Look here, I have given up my time, my work, my friends and my career to come here and learn from you, and I am not going to write a petit menuet dans le style de Mozart’. After that we became great friends and I learned much from him. [...] It was an invigorating experience to find all artistic problems looked at from what was to me an entirely new angle. [...] his own music was ‘tout à fait simple, rien que Mozart’. [...] Ralph wrote to Calvocoressi: I must write you one line to thank you for introducing me to the man who is exactly what I was looking for. As far as I know my own faults he hit on them all exactly and is telling me to do exactly what I half felt in my mind I ought to do — but it just wanted saying.” — biography of Ralph Vaughan Williams



“What a loss to the musical world!” — Mozart in a letter to his father, on the death of J. C. Bach (youngest son of the more famous Bach), who taught Mozart when he was much younger. Later that year Mozart made a touching quotation of one of J. C. Bach's overtures in the second movement of his Piano Concerto No. 12


Mozart and Handel

Mozart and Bach


“The fact that people generally don't understand or respect the very best things, such as Mozart's concertos and the aforementioned violin concerto of Viotti, is what sustains us and brings us fame. If only people had any idea that they're getting from us, drop by drop, the very same thing they can drink to their heart's content there!” — Johannes Brahms' letter to Clara Schumann of May 1878. (Viotti was a violin virtuoso of Mozart's day; Mozart himself also transcribed and expanded the orchestration for a Viotti violin concerto.)

Sinfonia Concertante (concerto for violin and viola). The second movement is, as is usual for Mozart, pretty exceptional.

“Mahler saved Mozart from the lie of daintiness as well as from the boredom of academic dryness. He imparted to the performances the composer's dramatic seriousness, his sincerity, his vivacity. He thus managed to change the public's inanimate respect for Mozart operas into an enthusiasm that shook the house and enraptured even the sober heart of the box-office manager.” — Bruno Walter's autobiography.

(How did Brahms and Mahler meet?)


“[...] However little remains of Mozart, it is enough for a light to emanate from it, illuminating the heavens of art, a soft but intense light, penetrating to the very depths of the heart. And one feels oneself in the presence of a supreme art, one that does not violently jolt the nerves, that does not intoxicate like an adulterated brew, but sets vibrating the delicate and profound strings of our being; and one wonders whether music did not there attain its zenith, whether the brilliant colors with which it has since been tinged are not those of sunset. A pointless question: for the future, which alone can judge us, will alone also answer it.” — Portraits et Souvenirs, Camille Saint-Saëns.

“An English writer asks, ‘What kind of face would Bach, Handel, Haydn and Mozart make if they heard a music-drama by Wagner?’ I shall not attempt to answer for the first three, but it is safe to say that Mozart, the universal genius whose soul was free of philistinism and one-sidedness, would not only be wide-eyed but would be as delighted as a child over all the new advances in drama and orchestra. It is in this light that Mozart must be viewed. Speaking of Mozart is like speaking of a god. When Gretchen asks Faust, ‘Do you believe in God?’ he answers, ‘Who dares name him, who confess him?’ It is in these profound words of Goethe that I would express my feelings for Mozart. Where he is greatest, he embraces all times. What does it matter if this or that generation is so blasé as to want to overlook him? Beauty is eternal, and the edict of fashion can obscure it only for a moment.” — Edvard Grieg



“[...] As death |: strictly considered :| is the true ultimate destination of our life, I have therefore, over the past few years, made myself so familiar with this true, best friend of man that its image not only no longer holds anything terrifying for me, but also a great deal that calms and comforts! And I thank my God that he has granted me the good fortune to create the opportunity |: you understand me :| to come to know it as the key to our true blessedness — I never lay myself down to sleep without recollecting that perhaps |: young though I may be :| I may no longer exist the next day” — Mozart's last surviving letter to his father before his father's death in 1787

Maurerische Trauermusik


“If you are poor, but skilful, then arm yourself with patience, and work hard; if you do not become rich, you do at least remain a skilful man. If you are a donkey, but rich, then make use of your advantage, be lazy; if you do not become poor, you do at least remain a donkey.” — from a pamphlet of ‘proverbs’ written by Mozart for a ball in 1786

Musikalisches Alphabet, probably the first truly ‘musical’ cipher


“[...] he never sought the approval of the crowd; even as a child, only the praise of experts moved him. Therefore, he was indifferent to those who came to gawk at him out of mere curiosity. Perhaps this behavior often went too far. Consequently, he was sometimes unwilling to play even in the presence of great dignitaries of the highest rank; or he would play nothing but trifles when he realized they were neither experts nor true enthusiasts. But Mozart was the most agreeable man in the world when he saw that someone appreciated his art; he would play for hours for the humblest, often unknown, person. With encouraging attentiveness, he listened to the attempts of young artists and awakened their dormant self-confidence with affectionate applause. Our finest pianist and beloved composer, Johann Witassek, owes him this awakening of his talent. He himself confessed that the few hours he spent with Mozart greatly enhanced his training.” — from the first full biography of Mozart by Niemetschek (1808)

“Give me the best clavier in Europe, but people as listeners who understand nothing, or do not wish to understand anything, and who do not join with me in feeling what I play, I will then lose all joy.” — Mozart to his father, May 1778


Mozart wrote nearly a thousand instrumental movements and stand-alone pieces, in some key signatures more often than others. There is exactly one key, F# minor, in which he wrote exactly one movement



How does Haydn hear and utter the name Mozart?
A strange question! Like anyone else who possesses physiologically normal organs of hearing and speech? (what a dismal answer!) Or does he rise from his chair, take off his hat, and even make a bow? God forbid! Here you may read, and feel with all your heart, the immortal man's own words (said to several friends of music on 30 December 1807, when they were offering him their New Year's congratulations and the conversation turned to Mozart), accompanied by a sudden outburst of tears:
‘Forgive me! I must ever weep at the name of my dear Mozart.’ ”


“[...] In addition, I have written several other compositions that belong to the same emotional realm. One of them is entitled Vision of the Sistine Chapel. Allegri and Mozart are its main figures. I have not only brought them together, but linked them in a way. Human misery and anguish groan in the Miserere; infinite mercy and God's fulfillment respond and sing in the Ave verum corpus. This touches upon the most sublime of mysteries; that which reveals to us Love victorious over Evil and Death. If this subject should seem too mystical, I could fall back on an episode from Mozart's biography to explain the musical concept. We know that, during his stay in Rome, he transcribed Allegri's Miserere during its performance in the Sistine Chapel, either to preserve a more faithful memory of it, or perhaps to circumvent the prohibitual system which, in the good old days, extended even to musical manuscripts. How could one fail to remember this event in the very place where it occurred? And so I have often looked there for the place where Mozart must have been. I even imagined that I could see him, and that he was looking down at me with gentle kindness.” — letter of Franz Liszt, 1862

Ave verum corpus, transcribed by Liszt



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