Monday, August 15, 2011

Serenade #13 in G, "Eine Kleine Nachtmusik"


There's a cruel reality in the music world; there is no way of knowing what work the public will latch onto and claim as Most Beloved Piece, and it is often the last piece of music the artist/composer would think (or wish).  From Bruce Springsteen's "Born In the USA" turning from countercultural protest song to the unironic anthem of red-blooded "Real 'Murrikans" to Chumbawamba, a British anarchist band (no kidding.  You can't make this stuff up) being known for their frat-boy drinking song "Tubthumping," there is no telling what music will stick in the minds of listeners.  Such is the case of Wolfgang Amadé Mozart's Serenade #13 in G, a title that means nothing to anyone until the subtitle is added - "Eine Kleine Nachtmusik".

Baby Mozart, composin' like a boss.
Mozart (christened as Johannes Chrysotomus Wolfgangus Theophilus Mozart - to give him choice, of course) was born on January 27, 1756 in Salzburg to one of the worst stage parents in history: Leopold Mozart.  Leo was an accomplished violinist - and indeed wrote a well-respected book on violin technique that was used for many, many years - and a decent composer, but when three-year-old Wolfgang climbed up on the family's keyboard and started playing chords while giggling to himself, one can only assume that a grin most recently seen on the latest episode of Toddlers and Tiaras lit up Leo's face.  When Wolfgang started composing his own pieces at the age of five, Mozart Sr. knew that his child (as well as his older sister Nannerl, but she, being female and living in the 18th century, was decidedly secondary - though her keyboard skills were actually more impressive) would be the family's new source of income.  A tour lasting over three years ensued, continuing until Wolfgang was nearly ten.  His first symphony was written at 8, and his first opera at 11.

It was around this point that Wolfgang reached the point that all child stars reach eventually; the end of childhood.  Mozart spent several years employed as a court musician in Salzburg, but did not enjoy his time there - among other things, he did not appreciate his treatment there (potentially an echo of being too used to his childhood fame).  To further dampen his early adulthood, in 1778, his mother fell ill and died while Mozart was in Paris.  Around this time, Wolfgang finally began to distance himself from his father's wishes (though, as far as we know, he did not shave his head and invite the paparazzi to watch the spectacle, though given the 18th century's propensity for wig-wearing, all sorts of shenanigans could have occurred...) and in 1781, he had a large argument with his employer, Archbishop Colloredo, and decided to pursue a freelance career in Vienna.

Don't tell Stephen Sondheim, though...
Things were looking up.  Mozart became friends with Joseph Haydn, and in 1787 he finally obtained a steady job under Emperor Joseph II.  It is in 1787 that we will stay; first, because the final four years of Mozart's life could fill up a good three more posts, and second, because 1787 was the year in which Eine Kleine Nachtmusik was written.

Eine Kleine Nachtmusik is an orchestral serenade, or a work for instrumental ensemble that is mainly for entertainment (and thus is more lighthearted than other instrumental works, such as symphonies, can be).  The word "nachtmusik" is actually a bit of a misnomer, or as they say in French, a "faux ami" (or false friend).  Translated literally, it means 'night music,' which is how it is generally translated; however, the word itself actually just means 'serenade.'

It is in four movements, with each movement being rather well-known.  Of course, it is the first movement, with its delightful example of a Mannheim Rocket in its first two measures, that is the most famous.

"What's a Mannheim Rocket, and what on earth is it doing in the 18th century?" you may ask.  Well, let me tell you.

Pictured: Five 20th-century Mannheim rockets, courtesy of SuperStock.com
In 1720, the court of Prince Elector Charles III Phillip (hey, I didn't name him - but then again, I didn't name Johannes Chrysotomus Wolfgangus Theophilius Mozart either) moved from Heidelberg to Mannheim.  This, on its own, would not be of much significance, but Charles was an incredible patron of the arts.  His orchestra in Heidelberg was already bigger than most orchestras in the area, and once the move to Mannheim was complete, the orchestra grew even larger and more prestigious.  Mannheim became a small center of musical innovation, and several techniques such as the Mannheim Crescendo (in which the entire orchestra gets louder) and the Grand Pause (exactly what it sounds like).  The Mannheim Rocket became a favorite way to start orchestral pieces; its rapidly ascending melody lines, usually via arpeggio (or broken major or minor chords), got audiences to sit up, stop ogling the noblewoman with the gigantic wig, and pay attention.  Eine Kleine Nachtmusik's unison opening is as obvious a Mannheim Rocket as they come, and as such, the piece has become one of the most well-known (if not the most) Mozart pieces ever.  Not bad for a little serenade.

Further listening:

Like Mozart, and also breathtakingly beautiful music?  Try "Soave sia il vento" from Cosi fan tutte (recorded at the 2006 Glyndebourne festival): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Wi7UsXW1As

Like Mozart, and also copious amounts of silliness?  Try "Clarice cara mia sposa", an aria for tenor (sung by Marcel Reijans): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kz45Vtjfbpk

Like seeing what other pieces can be overlaid on top of Eine Kleine Nachtmusik?  Try "Eine Kleine Nichtmusik" by P. D. Q. Bach: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=enT9oAE0TxM&feature=related

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