Unpacking Mozart's K.89
Unpacking Mozart's K.89
This post explores the simplistic nature of Mozart’s Kyrie K.89, revealing the truth behind his early canonic compositions and their implications on his perceived genius.
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.
"The incapacity to adhere to compositional rules illustrates the absence of a school and a teacher; mere imitation does not equate to mastery."
Mozart: The Fall of the Gods
When we think of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, the image of a prodigious genius often overshadows the reality of his musical development. One area of his work that deserves scrutiny is his treatment of canons, particularly in his Kyrie K.89. While canons are frequently seen as an entry point into the world of polyphony, Mozart’s versions reveal a stark simplicity that belies the complexities often associated with great composers.
The canon, a straightforward and rigorous compositional technique, is typically the first form grasped by children learning music. Yet, Mozart’s attempts at this form in his K.89 are fundamentally elementary, mainly employing unison voices and imitating the style of his supposed mentor, the Marchese de Ligniville. The notion that these canons serve as evidence of Mozart’s mastery of counterpoint is questionable, as his works primarily reflect a lack of deeper understanding rather than a profound artistry.
Many scholars, including Hermann Abert and Neal Zaslaw, have suggested that Mozart may have benefitted from Ligniville’s teachings during a brief stay in Florence. However, the reality of this mentorship remains vague, with only a few days available for instruction. The assertion that K.89 demonstrates Mozart’s familiarity with counterpoint is undermined by its reliance on copying rather than original composition. The piece consists of merely repeating simple motifs, leading to a product that lacks musical depth and sophistication.
The K.89 is essentially a pastiche, with Mozart replicating two-bar and three-bar phrases rather than crafting a genuinely innovative work. This method of composition results in a repetitive structure that fails to engage the listener on any meaningful level. Critics have noted that the final cadenza is riddled with compositional errors, indicating a lack of guidance and proper schooling in counterpoint.
Furthermore, the idea that K.89 should be held up as a testament to Mozart’s genius is misguided. The work serves as a reminder of the danger in romanticising his early output. While Mozart may have been adept at imitating others, true innovation and mastery require more than mere replication; they necessitate a comprehensive understanding of musical language and form.
In essence, K.89 stands as a historical curiosity rather than a hallmark of genius. It exemplifies the early stages of a composer still grappling with the fundamental principles of music rather than demonstrating an accomplished mastery of the craft.
You May Also Like
Georg Nissen and the Missing Notebooks – Part II
This second part delves deeper into Georg Nissen’s scheme to expose the truth about Mozart’s death, and the roles of Constanze Mozart and her sons in keeping it buried. As new details emerge, the mystery surrounding the famous composer’s final days grows even darker, with powerful forces potentially at play.
Mozart and Salieri
Pushkin does not see Salieri as a mere mediocre. In fact, Salieri embodies the struggle of the artist, much like Michelangelo, who reaches greatness through relentless effort. Pushkin himself identifies with both Mozart and Salieri, but he emphasises that true art demands work, discipline, and sacrifice. In poisoning the Mozartian element within himself, Salieri performs a service to art, freeing it from the frivolity of effortless genius. ‘Can genius and malice coexist?’ Pushkin’s answer is complex, but in the end, Salieri’s act seems to affirm that true creation lies in the hands of those who strive.
Another Example of Borrowed Genius
The myth of Mozart’s genius continues to collapse under the weight of his reliance on others’ ideas, with Leopold orchestrating his son’s supposed early brilliance.
A Genius or a Patchwork?
The genius of Mozart had yet to bloom, despite the anecdotes passed down to us. These concertos were not the work of a prodigy, but a collaborative effort between father and son, built on the music of others.
Myth, Reality, and the Hand of Martini
Mozart handed over Martini’s Antiphon, not his own, avoiding what could have been an embarrassing failure. The young prodigy had a lot to learn, and much of what followed was myth-making at its finest.
Mozart’s Serenade? A New Discovery? Really?
In Leipzig, what was thought to be a new autograph of Mozart turned out to be a questionable copy. Why are such rushed attributions so common for Mozart, and why is it so hard to correct them when proven false?