He was one of the few composers to excel in every category: symphony, concerto, chamber, choral, instrumental, opera and song. In less than 35 years, he created over 600 works, starting around the age of five. The masterpiece quotient is high. Even so, he seldom had two thalers to rub together. Such are the priorities of this world.
Happy birthday, Johannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus Mozart. We know him better as Wolfgang Amadeus.
Haydn wrote that “posterity will not see such a talent again in 100 years.”
Of course, he had his earthy side too. Here’s some of that Mozart they don’t teach you at school.
Lick my *** nicely,
lick it nice and clean,
nice and clean, lick my ***.
That’s a greasy desire,
nicely buttered,
like the licking of roast meat, my daily activity.
Three will lick more than two,
come on, just try it,
and lick, lick, lick.
Everybody lick their *** for themselves.
Want to plumb deeper? Sound off on your favorite Mozart pieces below.
How is it that I never before drew the connection?
You know, every once in a while, how someone comes up with a new theory about the identity of Jack the Ripper, or claims to have discovered the secret of Elgar’s “Enigma Variations?” Well, it only just occurred to me, I may have solved the mystery of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s death. And it is far more sinister than any alleged poisoning by Antonio Salieri.
Mozart gave up the ghost on this date in 1791. A prodigy at the keyboard and on the violin, and a composer from the age of five, alas, in death he was also ahead of the curve.
Mozart was 35 at the time of his passing, yet there was always something childlike in his personality. At times, he seemed much younger than his years. There’s no question that he could be naughty. He was certainly disobedient to his father, autocrat though he was. He defied the Pope, was extravagant in his spending, was inappropriate in his speech, and could be perhaps a mite too arrogant for his own good.
The cause of Mozart’s death was recorded as “severe military fever.” Even so, over the years, there have been dozens of theories put forth as to the true nature of his passing. Acute rheumatic fever. Streptococcal infection. Influenza. Mercury poisoning. A rare kidney ailment. Even a bad pork chop. Combined, of course, with overwork.
Alas, we’ll never know for sure. Mozart was buried in a common grave – not a communal grave, or a pauper’s grave, as has been frequently stated, but one whose wooden marker has long since worn away.
Here’s the thing. December 5, the date of Mozart’s passing, also happens to be Krampusnacht. As a former native of Salzburg and later Vienna, Mozart should have known better. Because, you see, Austria is the dark, beating heart of the Christmas devil.
What exactly is Krampus? Why, he’s St. Nicholas’ austere helper. Horned, hairy, and egregiously long-tongued, Krampus emerges from his Alpine domain to assist the patron saint of children on the eve of his feast day. Saint Nick bestows small gifts to all the good girls and boys. The rest are handed over to Krampus.
For milder offenses, there is the sting of the switch; for the especially ill-behaved, there are chains, a short ride in a wicker basket, and drowning in a stream or immolation by hellfire. When a recalcitrant child hears the dull clatter of approaching cow-bells on December 5, he knows it’s all over. With anxiety a thousand times worse than the anticipation of a bad report card, the wee sinner pulls the sweat-soaked blankets over his head and prays vociferously for a stocking full of coal.
No doubt, Mozart was a chronic offender. Could he have withstood a sound thrashing in his weakened state?
How is it that I never before drew the connection?
You know, every once in a while, how someone comes up with a new theory about the identity of Jack the Ripper, or claims to have discovered the secret of Elgar’s “Enigma Variations?” Well, it only just occurred to me, I may have solved the mystery of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s death. And it is far more sinister than any alleged poisoning by Antonio Salieri.
Mozart gave up the ghost on this date in 1791. A prodigy at the keyboard and on the violin, and a composer from the age of five, alas, in death he was also ahead of the curve.
Mozart was 35 at the time of his passing, yet there was always something childlike in his personality. At times, he seemed much younger than his years. There’s no question that he could be naughty. He was certainly disobedient to his father, autocrat though he was. He defied the Pope, was extravagant in his spending, was inappropriate in his speech, and could be perhaps a mite too arrogant for his own good.
The cause of Mozart’s death was recorded as “severe military fever.” Even so, over the years, there have been dozens of theories put forth as to the true nature of his passing. Acute rheumatic fever. Streptococcal infection. Influenza. Mercury poisoning. A rare kidney ailment. Even a bad pork chop. Combined, of course, with overwork.
Alas, we’ll never know for sure. Mozart was buried in a common grave – not a communal grave, or a pauper’s grave, as has been frequently stated, but one whose wooden marker has long since worn away.
Here’s the thing. December 5, the date of Mozart’s passing, also happens to be Krampusnacht. As a former native of Salzburg and later Vienna, Mozart should have known better. Because, you see, Austria is the dark, beating heart of the Christmas devil.
What exactly is Krampus? Why, he’s St. Nicholas’ austere helper. Horned, hairy, and egregiously long-tongued, Krampus emerges from his Alpine domain to assist the patron saint of children on the eve of his feast day. Saint Nick bestows small gifts to all the good girls and boys. The rest are handed over to Krampus.
For milder offenses, there is the sting of the switch; for the especially ill-behaved, there are chains, a short ride in a wicker basket, and drowning in a stream or immolation by hellfire. When a recalcitrant child hears the dull clatter of approaching cow-bells on December 5, he knows it’s all over. With anxiety a thousand times worse than the anticipation of a bad report card, the wee sinner pulls the sweat-soaked blankets over his head and prays vociferously for a stocking full of coal.
No doubt, Mozart was a chronic offender. Could he have withstood a sound thrashing in his weakened state?
How is it that I never before drew the connection?
You know, every once in a while, how someone comes up with a new theory about the identity of Jack the Ripper, or claims to have discovered the secret of Elgar’s “Enigma Variations?” Well, it only just occurred to me, I may have solved the mystery of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s death. And it is far more sinister than any alleged poisoning by Antonio Salieri.
Mozart gave up the ghost on this date in 1791. A prodigy at the keyboard and on the violin, and a composer from the age of five, alas, in death he was also ahead of the curve.
Mozart was 35 at the time of his passing, yet there was always something childlike in his personality. At times, he seemed much younger than his years. There’s no question that he could be naughty. He was certainly disobedient to his father, autocrat though he was. He defied the Pope, was extravagant in his spending, was inappropriate in his speech, and could be perhaps a mite too arrogant for his own good.
The cause of Mozart’s death was recorded as “severe military fever.” Even so, over the years, there have been dozens of theories put forth as to the true nature of his passing. Acute rheumatic fever. Streptococcal infection. Influenza. Mercury poisoning. A rare kidney ailment. Even a bad pork chop. Combined, of course, with overwork.
Alas, we’ll never know for sure. Mozart was buried in a common grave – not a communal grave, or a pauper’s grave, as has been frequently stated, but one whose wooden marker has long since worn away.
Here’s the thing. December 5, the date of Mozart’s passing, also happens to be Krampusnacht. As a former native of Salzburg and later Vienna, Mozart should have known better. Because, you see, Austria is the dark, beating heart of the Christmas devil.
What exactly is Krampus? Why, he’s St. Nicholas’ austere helper. Horned, hairy, and egregiously long-tongued, Krampus emerges from his Alpine domain to assist the patron saint of children on the eve of his feast day. Saint Nick bestows small gifts to all the good girls and boys. The rest are handed over to Krampus.
For milder offenses, there is the sting of the switch; for the especially ill-behaved, there are chains, a short ride in a wicker basket, and drowning in a stream or immolation by hellfire. When a recalcitrant child hears the dull clatter of approaching cow-bells on December 5, he knows it’s all over. With anxiety a thousand times worse than the anticipation of a bad report card, the wee sinner pulls the sweat-soaked blankets over his head and prays vociferously for a stocking full of coal.
No doubt, Mozart was a chronic offender. Could he have withstood a sound thrashing in his weakened state?
Music historians are often critical of Leopold Mozart, describing him as haughty, domineering, and tyrannical. But really, when you are the father of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, what are you going to do?
Today is the 300th anniversary of the birth of Leopold Mozart. Leopold was a composer of some ability himself, so give him credit for possessing the good sense and enough humility to recognize that the talent of his children far eclipsed his own.
Of course, times being what they were, Nannerl didn’t get to enjoy the same professional advantages that Wolfgang did. But Leopold loved both children. He raised Nannerl’s son as his own, and one can only imagine his frustration over Wolfgang never being able to land a position commensurate with his genius.
Of his own works, Leopold’s “Toy Symphony” remains popular – although it was long attributed to Haydn – as does his “Musical Sleigh-Ride.” But his Trumpet Concerto must be among his very best.
Movt. I, Adagio
Movt. II, Allegro
Happy birthday, and best wishes in your fourth century, Leopold Mozart.
