Unmasking the Myth
The Cibavit eos and Mozart's Deceptive Legacy
In the realm of classical music, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart is often portrayed as an unparalleled genius. However, a closer examination of his early works reveals a very different narrative, one in which mastery may be more illusion than reality. A striking example is the motet Cibavit eos in adipe (K. 44), which has been erroneously and romantically attributed to Mozart in various biographies.
Mozart: The Fall of the Gods
This book offers a fresh and critical look at the life of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, challenging the myths that have surrounded him for centuries. We strip away the romanticised image of the “natural genius” and delve into the contradictions within Mozart’s extensive biographies. Backed by nearly 2,000 meticulously sourced citations, this work invites readers to explore a deeper, more complex understanding of Mozart. Perfect for those who wish to question the traditional narrative, this biography is a must-read for serious music lovers and historians.
"They have painted a misleading portrait of a composer, as if he were profoundly skilled in counterpoint and polyphony at just fourteen years old, which is absolutely untrue."
Mozart: The Fall of the Gods
At the tender age of fourteen, Mozart faced a composition exam at the prestigious Accademia Filarmonica in Bologna—a moment that should have marked a significant turning point in his career. The exam, however, was a disaster, but he was passed nonetheless, as if the whole charade was designed to bolster a burgeoning myth.
Musicologist Hermann Abert suggested that Mozart had prepared for this farcical examination under the guidance of Giovanni Battista Martini. The reality, however, appears far less impressive. Abert claimed that Mozart had composed Cibavit eos, a supposed masterpiece that demonstrated his ability to compose in the ancient style.
The Illusion of Originality
Abert and other scholars, blinded by their own biases, asserted that Mozart approached the exam with serious preparation, producing the Cibavit, which, according to these scholars, showcased his emerging talent, impressing none other than Father Martini himself. However, a more rigorous investigation reveals that Cibavit was not an original work but a mere copy, beautifully transcribed. It unmistakably echoes the style of late Renaissance composers, a fact that becomes glaringly obvious even to the casual listener.
A Shattered Illusion
Recent discoveries have unveiled that K. 44 is a copy of an earlier work by Johann Stadlmayr rather than an original composition by Mozart. This revelation serves as a powerful testament to the precarious nature of the alleged genius of Mozart. The admiration he has received is built on a foundation of misconceptions and inaccuracies, such as the case of Cibavit, perpetuated by an uncritical acceptance of earlier biographical accounts.
The Mozart establishment and its so-called experts have confused early Renaissance music with Mozart’s compositions, revealing their ignorance of both. They have painted a misleading portrait of a composer who, at the age of fourteen, supposedly mastered counterpoint and polyphony. In reality, this is far from the truth.
Conclusion
The narrative surrounding Cibavit eos challenges us to rethink the stories we have been told and to question the foundations of the mythic genius that surrounds Mozart. This motet does not demonstrate the brilliance of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart; instead, it exposes the superficiality of Mozart studies, highlighting how easily myths can be constructed and perpetuated in the world of classical music.
You May Also Like
#1 A Man of Cunning
In the end, Leopold Mozart’s life was a testament to survival in a world where his talents were often overshadowed by those of his more gifted contemporaries and his own son. While his “Violinschule” remains a notable contribution to music pedagogy, it is clear that Leopold’s legacy is as much about his ability to navigate the challenges of his time as it is about his musical achievements. His story is one of ambition, adaptation, and the lengths to which one man would go to secure his place in history, even if that place was built on borrowed foundations.
@MozartrazoM
Mozart’s Letters: A Legacy of Disappearances, Edits, and Forgeries
Mozart’s letters reveal missing originals, questionable authorship, and forgeries, adding complexity to his legacy.
The Curious Case of Mozart’s “Lullaby”
Though long credited to Mozart, the lullaby “Schlafe mein Prinzchen, schlaf ein” hides a murky history. Initially published by Nissen, Constanze’s second husband, it has endured as one of Mozart’s supposed works—despite a trail of doubts. In 1798, Constanze herself noted sending “another piece of Mozart’s in place of the lullaby,” raising questions about its origins. By the 20th century, researchers revealed it as the work of lesser-known composers, yet it remains deceptively tied to Mozart, its myth surviving through mere footnotes.
Mozart’s Bassoon Concerto: A Question of Authorship
The Bassoon Concerto K.191 raises more questions than it answers. Long thought to have been composed for a Munich bassoonist, new evidence suggests Mozart had no clear performer in mind. The concerto’s disjointed movements and other dubious compositions attributed to Mozart add further complexity to his legacy
The Contradictions Behind Mozart’s Horn Concerto K.412
The authenticity of Mozart’s Horn Concerto K.412 remains hotly debated, as the work bears numerous contradictions in its manuscript history. The first movement may be original, but what about the rest? The inclusion of Franz Xaver Süssmayr and later editorial meddling raises serious questions about what we are really listening to when we hear this ‘Mozart’ concerto.
The Forgotten Viennese Quartets
Attributing Offertorium K.34 to Mozart is not just misleading, it reflects the careless methods used by 19th-century scholars to inflate his legacy. Without an autograph or solid evidence, this work should not be considered part of his output.”