The “Amadeus” Diptych
BY STAFF WRITER KELSEY WANG ‘24
Schumann wrote: “‘I’m really unbuttoned today,’ was [Beethoven’s] favorite expression when his spirits were high. And then he would laugh like a lion and let loose about him – for he was unruly in all circumstances.”
With this, one can, of course, make no judgments, but we can make some observations. For it has been said that “it is as difficult to call up in the fancy a picture of a suffering Mozart as a merry Beethoven.” But it is in fact not so difficult to call up in the fancy a picture of a merry Beethoven (as the 700 smiling Beethoven statues rejoicing in the composer’s 250th birthday have reminded us). To carry out this argument to its end, it is not so impossible to imagine Mozart as the archetypal suffering genius.
It is my opinion, then, that a clear and open examination of the portrayals of Mozart can reveal interesting things about our proclivity to deify the dead. Death is a great enlivener of an artist’s work.
We love to match extraordinary art with an extraordinary life. We love the untimely death of a genius, the envy of mediocrity, the misunderstood Byronic hero. We even, at times, love these bloated burlesques more than the music itself.
Equipped with the reckless courage of Curtius (that infamously hapless biographer of Alexander), I will not be afraid of the big, bad critics, and will enter the fray, not with wild cries as some Teutonic animal wearing tailored pelts, but rather like the Spartans, with merry flutes. I suppose that, in this, I follow our subject’s advice: “In such matters I care nothing for the praise or censure of anybody…instead I follow my own judgments and feelings” (Vienna, August 8, 1781, letter to his father Leopold Mozart).
Considering the popularity of the ‘Salieric poisoning’** myth, it seems to me best to make the subject of this “diptych”* the ‘Mozarts’ of Amadeus the film and of the eponymous play.
(*Diptych. A portrait or painting in two parts combined into a single frame and presented together.)
(**Salieric poisoning refers to the popular myth that Italian composer Antonio Salieri poisoned Mozart out of jealousy. While this is a fine theory, there is no evidence that Salieri did any such thing.)
A. AMADEUS (1984 American film)
A genius detached from the real world.
This is the impression I have of Mozart from the 1984 film Amadeus.
What the film lacks in historicity it makes up for in artistry. Included in its merits, perhaps, is the memorability and ‘extremity’ of Mozart’s character – exaggerated to contrast with the sober, brood, and pious Salieri.
The viewer must bear in mind that Mozart’s fidgety behavior, his flighty nature, his braying laugh, his greedily oversized ego, and his “obscene little giggles” are exaggerations formed to remind the audience that this caricature is how Salieri sees Mozart and is not representative of the real man. Or to show how this version of Mozart seems to exist apart from the world in which he lives. Or both.
The latter interpretation fits perfectly with the public conception of genius as an extraordinary person who cannot take care of himself; it would seem that however much God has given in talent, so much He has diminished in common sense and ability to survive in the real world. In emphasizing Mozart’s genius, the film also points to the uncompromising – sometimes to the point of unreason – nature in Mozart’s character, as the following dialogue from the film shows. In this scene, Emperor Joseph II comments on Mozart’s opera:
JOSEPH
It’s very good. Of course now and then – just now and then – it gets a touch elaborate.
MOZART
What do you mean, Sire?
JOSEPH
Well, I mean occasionally it seems to have, how shall one say? How shall one say, Director?
DIRECTOR ORSINI-ROSENBERG
Too many notes, Your Majesty?
JOSEPH
Exactly. Very well put. Too many notes.
MOZART
I don’t understand. There are just as many notes, Majesty, as are required. Neither more nor less […] Which few did you have in mind, Majesty?
(Pause. General embarrassment.)
JOSEPH
Well. There it is.
We see Mozart’s self-confidence (“There are just as many notes”) – even arrogance – in his talent.
We see how he retains basic etiquette when speaking (“What do you mean, Sire?”) until his work is criticized. We also see his refusal to compromise his art even at the behest of the Emperor (“Which few did you have in mind, Majesty?”).
Such characteristics – pride and obstinacy – are typical of the Romantic image of the lonely genius. This is not to say that the Mozart of Amadeus the film is to be taken negatively – after all, there are reasons for its popularity, and despite the film’s title, the title character is Salieri, not Mozart – for one’s sympathies, of course, are all on the side of the tragic hero. But it must be asked: sympathetic and pitiable, indeed, but at what expense?
I must mention the splendid Confutatis scene near the end of the film, in which Salieri and a dying Mozart compose the Confutatis sequence of the Requiem together, though this is absolutely ahistorical. In addition to delighting the audience with some, however artificially constructed, insight into the process of composing, the scene grants the two characters a final moment of understanding. Salieri witnesses the workings of a God-loved genius:
MOZART
We’ll stop for just a moment. Then we’ll do the Lacrimosa.
SALIERI
I can keep going, I assure you. Shall we try?
MOZART
Would you stay with me while I sleep a little?
SALIERI
I’m not leaving you.
MOZART
I am so ashamed.
SALIERI
What for?
MOZART
I was foolish. I thought you did not care for my work – or me. Forgive me. Forgive me!
(Mozart closes his eyes. Salieri stares at him.)
B. AMADEUS (1979 British stage play)
I cannot give an objective assessment of Amadeus the play because I was infuriated by it.
When constructing and reconstructing the character of Mozart, the result brings forward different aspects of the original, so that although there may be as many Mozarts as there are impersonators, each one carries within himself a different emphasis, a different worldview, a different message.
The Mozart of Amadeus the play is the distillation of his vices.
He cannot stand still for a moment, his hands and feet are always in motion, his voice is thin and shrieking – its pitch unbearably high – and he has an unforgettable habit of giggling childishly and convulsively at every appropriate and inappropriate opportunity. Although a neurotic, braying laugh is also a characteristic trait of the Mozart from Amadeus the movie (and, to some extent, the Mozart of Mozart L’Opera Rock), this Mozart has the sharpest and harshest laugh.
One is not charmed by him. One can barely stand this annoying, clownish caricature.
All of this causes Mozart’s character in this play to be a very unnatural one. Perhaps this is a result of the play’s focus on Salieri – to a greater extent than the movie adaptation. The original Amadeus play is based on Salieri’s narrative. It tells the story of Salieri’s envy and his eventual loss of faith and mind.
From this perspective, such a rude, annoying, infuriating image of Mozart is more in accordance with the Mozart in the eyes of the storyteller Salieri. But rather than presenting a deliberate distortion of character, this portrayal has overstepped the thin line between genius and madman. So where the movie gives voice to genius, the play depicts madness.
All of this is reasonable. What I cannot come to terms with is the role that Mozart plays in Salieri’s contest against God.
Salieri’s animosity towards Mozart is a mixture of jealous vengeance and Salieri’s provocation against God. In anger and despair at not being the ‘chosen’ genius – that the ‘chosen one’ was such an obscene clown could not have helped – Salieri chooses to associate his name with Mozart forever by announcing that he murdered Mozart; he chooses to be remembered for the harm he may have done than not to be remembered at all. Salieri calls it “the last trick.”
Since then, every time people speak of Mozart with admiration, they will speak of Salieri with equal hate; when Mozart’s name is known in the world, the name of Salieri will shadow it. Since he cannot become famous by virtue, he chooses infamy by vice. Salieri will become immortal, and God will be powerless to stop it. By this, Salieri mocks his ‘mediocrity’ and has the final victory in this battle between himself and Heaven.
In the play, Salieri’s final words to Mozart are a confession. He admits that he has poisoned Mozart and asks for forgiveness. Forgiveness appears to be granted. Salieri, feeling redeemed, leaves Mozart cowering on the ground. Is forgiveness granted? Not at all – Mozart’s last words in the play are an accusation:
Salieri did it. Salieri poisoned me.
In Mozart L’Opera Rock and Amadeus the film, Salieri and Mozart reach a reconciliation from their previous constant confrontation. In Amadeus the film, Salieri even insists on staying with a dying Mozart with a valor that is almost uncharacteristic. In Mozart L’Opera Rock, they shake hands, let go of the past, sing a duet about the value of life, and promise to meet each other again. In the sacred light of sublimation, Mozart is ascended, and Salieri is forgiven by Mozart and by himself.
These are peaceful, gentle, forgiving, even romantic scenes.
Not in Amadeus the play. It ends with Mozart and Salieri leaving each other with only hate.
Never once is Salieri moved by Mozart. He is never able to see past his own hatred to look at Mozart as a person. He regards Mozart as the instrument of God, the mouthpiece of God, the battlefield where he fights God. Mozart is a symbol – even the hate that Salieri feels for Mozart is directed at the God whom Mozart represented. As for Mozart’s person, Salieri feels neither affection nor animosity, as he never sees Mozart as a person. There is no reconciliation because there is no forgiveness; there is no forgiveness because there is no understanding. Hatred is not sublimed; forgiveness is not granted.
What is the essence of this Mozart? In the play, Salieri says:
God needed Mozart to let Himself into the world, and Mozart needed me to get him worldly advancement. So it would be a battle to the end – and Mozart was the battleground.
To Salieri, Mozart is the battleground. And no more.
POSTSCRIPT I. PORTRAITS AND RECONSTRUCTIONS
I wanted to crown this article with Mozart’s portrait. The question: which portrait?
Should I choose the famous picture by Barbara Kraft? But it is a posthumous portrait, even if it is based on an authentic portrait that Mozart’s sister said was “one of the best likenesses” of her brother.
Should I choose the della Croce family portrait? Mozart’s sister praised this portrait for its accuracy. But it looks so different from the other three authentic portraits of Mozart’s adulthood. And to choose the della Croce family portrait would mean to brush aside his sister, father, and mother. I regard this as a heartless act.
Should I choose the unfinished portrait by Joseph Lange, depicting the head of Mozart and the unfinished body seated at the piano? Mozart’s wife Constanze stated that the Lange portrait was his best painting. But it is so melancholic that it seems almost portentous.
Should I choose the 1785 portrait by Joseph Grassi? Renowned Mozart scholar Koechel said of this unknown Mozart painting: “I think it is the most artistic and similar-looking portrait of Mozart.” However, most will “have difficulties to free themselves of the hitherto known pictures – despite their rather moderate quality and resemblance” [sic]. If I were told that this is the portrait of “Maurice Quentin de La Tour,” I would not suspect a thing.
Still undecided, I wondered if traces of authenticity might be found in modern facial reconstructions. 3D Sculptor Hadi Karimi crafted a lifelike rendering of Mozart by finding the unanimous features of the four authentic portraits of Mozart’s adulthood. The result is alienating and astonishing:
Image Source: Google Images
POSTSCRIPT II. THE MOZART MUSICALS
My original intention was to compare four portrayals of Mozart. But as I was organizing my notes, it came to my attention that the two Mozart musicals cannot be compared with the Amadeus film and play. They deserve their own article.
Both musicals have obtained eminent distinction. To avoid spoilers, I have omitted summaries of the plot and instead focused on my personal opinions regarding each. There are only so many variations that can be played on Mozart’s life – or perhaps not.
The Austrian musical Mozart! is one of the more ahistorical and interesting dramatizations.
I am in strong disagreement with the musical's unnatural separation of Mozart’s ‘person’ and ‘genius’ to present a strange dichotomy between his life and his music. Mozart’s person and genius become two distinct entities. What does this mind-body dualism prove? That his genius prevented him from experiencing the life of a normal person; that the brilliance of his genius pained and terrified those around him and made him impossible to be truly understood. Ordinary mortals do not know how to love a genius, and what a genius longs for may just be a mortal’s love.
Mozart! is a refreshing exception from the ‘Salieric poisoning’ narratives, and shows, in certain ways, more fidelity to biographical truths. It avoids the fault of deifying Mozart by discussing the merits and faults that come inherently with great genius: “How do you get rid of your shadow? How do you reject your own destiny? How do you reinvent yourself? How do you get freedom from yourself?”
Unlike Amadeus and Mozart L’Opera Rock, the conflict is internal, the themes approach the philosophical, and the mood comes dangerously close to sentimental. Lest it is misinterpreted that I dislike Mozart!, I will say in its defense: the vocals are very, very good (especially Oedo Kuipers as Mozart and Mark Seibert as Archbishop Colloredo) and the individual songs are appealing even if one does not know a syllable of German.
Mozart L’Opera Rock. The French musical straddles the border between the ‘Salieric poisoning’ narratives and biographical truths. I have much to say of this marvelous musical, “which this margin is too narrow to contain.” That is the only excuse I can find for steering clear of beginning a dissertation on a work of art that delighted me from beginning to end. From an artistic perspective, the colors of the musical are vibrant, the clothing of the characters flamboyant, the lighting of the stage dazzling – all imbue the musical with a significance beyond itself, making it a work of beauty tantamount to a work of art.
The story of Mozart is romanticized to such an extent that all courage, passion, hope, love, envy, pain, cowardice, hatred, and life are lived to the fullest. Even in death, all is sublimated into an optimistic message – We will finally know the meaning of our lives. Love! and Freedom!
This is the closest to a Mozartian ‘Ode to Joy’ we might ever come to.