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Rhetorical Concepts and Mozart: elements of Classical Oratory in his drammi per musica

A thesis submitted to the University of Newcastle in fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of

Master of Philosophy

Heath A. W. Landers, BMus (Hons)

School of Creative Arts

The University of Newcastle

May 2015 The thesis contains no material which has been accepted for the award of any other degree or diploma in any university or other tertiary institution and, to the best of my knowledge and belief, contains no material previously published or written by another person, except where due reference has been made in the text. I give consent to the final version of my thesis being made available worldwide when deposited in the University’s Digital Repository, subject to the provisions of the Copyright Act 1968.

Candidate signature: Date: 06/05/2015

In Memory of My Father,

Wayne Clive Landers (1944-2013)

Requiem aeternam dona ei, Domine:

et lux perpetua luceat ei.

Acknowledgments

Foremost, my sincerest thanks go to Associate Professor Rosalind Halton of the University Of Newcastle Conservatorium Of Music for her support and encouragement of my postgraduate studies over the past four years. I especially thank her for her support of my research, for her advice, for answering my numerous questions and resolving problems that I encountered along the way.

I would also like to thank my co-supervisor Conjoint Professor Michael Ewans of the University of Newcastle for his input into the development of this thesis and his abundant knowledge of the subject matter.

My most sincere and grateful thanks go to Matthew Hopcroft for his tireless work in preparing the musical examples and finalising the layout of this dissertation. His assistance, unwavering belief in this research project and, most importantly, his friendship are never forgotten or taken for granted. I would also like to express my appreciation and thanks to Sally Walker, lecturer in flute at the University Of Newcastle Conservatorium Of Music, Susan Rankin and Hope Rohr for kindly assisting me with the translation of many of the quotes in this thesis. Many thanks also to Andrew Hermon, Peter Willis, Gemma Brownlow, Emma Haining and Rowland for their friendship and for sharing this journey with me.

Last, but certainly not least, my heartfelt thanks go to my parents, my mother Margaret and my late father Wayne for their continued encouragement and support of my musical endeavours and studies, and for being so gracious about the time I had to spend away from our family business. For that I will always be truly grateful.

HEATH LANDERS

May 2015

Table of Contents

Introduction ...... 1

Chapter I The theory and practice of dramma per musica and in the eighteenth century.. 22

Chapter II Figures of rhetoric ...... 48

Chapter III Dispositio: the rhetorical structure of operatic forms ...... 104

Chapter IV Expression of the affections through modes, tempo and harmonic inflection: a case study of these concepts in Il rè pastore ...... 164

Chapter V Tones of voice and melodic line ...... 203

Conclusion ...... 286

Bibliography ...... 290

Abstract

An understanding of the art of rhetoric was considered an essential part of a liberal arts education up until the Napoleonic wars of the early nineteenth century – not only for the well-to-do, but also for professional musicians and those employed in other art forms. While little documentation is now extant to provide us with information about the rhetorical training that Wolfgang Mozart (1756-1791) received, we can surmise that much of Mozart’s knowledge in this area was transmitted through his father, Leopold (1719-1787), who had studied philosophy at the Benedictine University in .

This thesis will investigate whether it can be shown that Mozart continued the rhetorical tradition in music to portray the emotions expressed in the genre of dramma per musica. All but the last of Mozart’s works of this genre date prior to his residence in (from 1781) and show the influence of some of the most celebrated operatic composers of the day, such as Johann Christian Bach (1735-1782), Josef Mysliveček (1737-1781) and Niccolò Jommelli (1714-1774), as well as that of the influential ‘Mannheim school’ on his orchestral writing.

This dissertation will examine ways in which rhetorical figures, musical form, tonality, harmonic texture, tones of voice and melodic lines may be understood as part of a rhetorical scheme used by Mozart and his contemporaries to convey emotions, or the ‘passions’, as they were commonly referred to during the eighteenth century. Rhetorical techniques and devices formed a tradition dating from the first performances of in the early seventeenth century; it will be argued that they continued to be the guiding principle for communicating expressiveness in Mozart’s drammi per musica, alongside their innovations in orchestral texture and in form.

While Mozart’s operatic compositions have been subject to many types of analysis, the analytical methodology of this dissertation will be based on a study of compositional precepts of the period. It aims to show how Mozart, as a composer of the late eighteenth century, applied these concepts to his vocal compositions to illuminate through music the emotions, ideas and images expressed in the text. Introduction

Music and rhetoric

Rhetoric – the art of eloquent speech or writing - was taught as part of a liberal arts curriculum until the Napoleonic wars of the early nineteenth century. With the classical texts forming the basis of knowledge, a rhetorical performance was designed to move (movere) the emotions and persuade (persuadere) the intellect of an audience in such a way that it could be understood and appreciated without effort. Aristotle (384-322BC) defines rhetoric as the ‘counterpart of dialectic’ in his Art of Rhetoric (1.1, Aristotle, trans. Lawson- Tancred, 1991: 66). From antiquity rhetorical techniques were embedded into the process of musical composition and were continually adapted to new musical styles (Tarling, 2005: ii).

The persuasive affects shared by rhetoric and music were well known through myth and literature from ancient times. Orpheus, perhaps the best-known mythical musician and the subject of many operatic compositions, tamed animals and moved rocks by his persuasive playing of the lyre and, according to Greek historian Herodotus (c425-425BC), Arion, having given what he thought was to be the last performance of his life, was saved from drowning by music-loving dolphins impressed by his cythara playing (Histories, Book 1: 23-24). In Jewish and Christian contexts, David’s playing of the harp was said to be the only way the violent rages of Saul, King of Israel could be soothed (1 Samuel 16:23, King James Version).

The ancient writings on rhetoric by Aristotle, Cicero (106-43BC) and Quintilian (c35-c100) influenced many treatises on this subject during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. René Descartes’ (1596-1650) most famous philosophical work, Les passions de l’âme (1650) prompted the publication of similar works on the importance of portraying human emotion in all the arts, such as Réflexions critiques sur la poésie, la peinture et la musique (1719) by French diplomat, historian and theorist of the arts Abbé Jean-Baptiste Dubos (1670-1742).

During the lifetime of (1756-1791), rhetorical values were seen to penetrate the barriers of time and culture easily, while a rhetorical performance and the

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aesthetic pleasure derived from it were regarded as having survived antiquity to become one of the classical world’s gifts to the modern world. Rhetoric remained too useful to ignore, as it provided a vocabulary for making communication explicable – in both verbal and artistic terms (Beghin and Goldberg, eds., 2007: 2).

Seventeenth- and eighteenth-century music theorists sought to explain various aspects of the musical experience with the assistance of rhetorical knowledge, at a time when the study of rhetoric formed a part of every educated person’s formal and informal learning (Beghin and Goldberg, eds., 2007: 2). Even though the eighteenth century proved to be a period of rapid and fundamental change in the western music tradition, influences from the past were not neglected and continued to retain their force. German music historian and theorist Johann Nikolaus Forkel (1749-1818) drew more directly than any of his predecessors had done on classical sources. The details of his discussion, which are firmly based in the classical tradition, can be seen in Forkel’s Allgemeine Geschichte der Musik (1788-1801) (Beghin and Goldberg, eds., 2007: 3).

It is without doubt that the majority of Wolfgang’s musical training was undertaken under the guidance of his father, (1719-1787). This training would have included an extensive education in rhetoric, a discipline in which Leopold was thoroughly versed, during his time at the University of Salzburg, where he enrolled in the Bachelor of Philosophy degree in 1738 with public commendation (Eisen, ‘Mozart’, Grove Music Online). We can also surmise that the were acquainted with the rhetorical treatises of the German literary critic and poet Johann Christoph Gottsched (1700-1766). Letters that Leopold wrote to the Augsburg publisher Johann Jakob Lotter in 1755 reveal that he requested copies of Gottsched’s works (Irving, 1997: 106).

Mozart’s rhetorical and dramatic sensibility revealed itself at an early age. In 1765, while the Mozart family were in London, the nine-year-old’s abilities were searchingly tested by the writer on music Daines Barrington (1727-1800) and published in his Miscellanies (1781). Barrington writes:

I said to the boy, that I should be glad to hear an extemporary Love Song, such as his friend Manzoli (sic) [Italian , Giovanni Manzuoli (c1720-1782)] might choose in an opera. The boy on this ... immediately began five or six lines of proper 2

to introduce a love song. He then played a symphony which might correspond with an air composed to the single word, Affetto [affection]. It had a first and second part, which, together with the symphonies, was of the length that opera songs generally last: if this extemporary was not amazingly capital, yet it was really above mediocrity, and showed most extraordinary readiness of invention. ... I then desired him to compose a Song of Rage, such as might be proper for the opera stage. The boy ... began five or six lines of a jargon recitative proper to precede a Song of Anger. ... The word he pitched upon for this second extemporary composition was, Perfido [perfidy] (Barrington quoted in Landon and Mitchell, eds., 1956: 284).

The purpose of this study will be to investigate how Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart incorporated a variety of rhetorical devices and processes into his drammi per musica. All but one of Mozart’s drammi per musica were composed prior to his move to Vienna in 1781, and being relatively early works they are indebted to the influence of composers of the previous generation, such as Johann Christian Bach (1735-1782), Josef Mysliveček (1737- 1781) and Niccolò Jommelli (1714-1774), all composers whose Mozart is known to have admired (see Chapter I).

The plots of the drammi per musica are based on events drawn either from ancient history or classical mythology. These works of Mozart fall into three categories - those composed for the archiepiscopal court of Salzburg or Salzburg University, works commissioned by the Regio Ducal Teatro in Milan, and the last two drammi per musica composed for the Hoftheater in Munich and the National Theatre in Prague. Three operas were composed for Salzburg: et Hyacinthus K.38 (1767); K.126 (1772) and Il rè pastore K.208 (1775). The works for the Regio Ducal Teatro were commissions over three consecutive years for the Holy Roman Empire, which was then in control of the Italian province of Lombardy. These operas are: Mitridate, rè di Ponto K.87 (1770), K.111 (1771) and K.135 (1772). The last two stage works date from Mozart’s so- called ‘mature’ period - , rè di Creta K.366 (1781), a commission from the Electoral Hoftheater in Munich, and K.621 (1791), which dates from the last year of Mozart’s life and was composed for the National Theatre in Prague (Osborne, 1986). Although is specifically termed ein Lateinisches intermedium (a Latin intermezzo), it has been included for the purpose of this dissertation due to its similarity in subject matter and compositional resources to the drammi per musica. 3

The dramma per musica of the late eighteenth century could be literally translated as ‘drama for music’, meaning that the text was written expressly to be set to music (‘Dramma per musica’, Grove Music Online). Dramma per musica was the term most used to define from the seventeenth to the early nineteenth century. It appeared very often in the title pages of printed , and the survival of many collections of libretti in private collections points to the likelihood that drammi per musica were widely read in private homes as dramatic literature. The use of the term to define the genre was rarely used pre-1800, although Raniero de Calzabigi’s (1714-1795) for a comic opera of 1769 is entitled L’opera seria (Strohm, 1997: 1). However, dramma per musica was used throughout the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries as an official designation for the genre, with special emphasis given to the literary aspect of the works. This was certainly the case in regard to Mozart’s drammi per musica, where no reference is made to either composer or librettist on the title pages of the first printed libretti. Analogous terminology for the serious operatic genre emerged in the late eighteenth century. For example, La clemenza di Tito is described as a dramma serio per musica on the title page of its libretto (Strohm, 1997: 2).

Some sub-types of this genre, such as the azione or festa teatrale and the serenata, were produced for festive court occasions (Jander, 1980: Vol. 1, 759), with the content revolving around pastoral, allegorical or mythological themes (Strohm, 1997: 4). Ascanio in Alba, Il sogno di Scipione and Il rè pastore are works by Mozart that fall into this category.

Despite the recent emergence of studies into the influence of rhetoric on late eighteenth- century composers, research into Mozart’s use of rhetorical devices in his works remains relatively untouched. Those analyses that have been completed in this area tend to focus on Mozart’s instrumental compositions or his better-known opere buffe, such as Le Nozze di Figaro K.492 and K.527. Mozart’s drammi per musica have attracted little analytical attention so far, and the reason for this could be because many critics and analysts of Mozart’s compositions often consider the majority of these operas as ‘juvenile’ works and maybe therefore ‘less worthy’ of analysis. Another reason could even be attributed back to nineteenth-century sources. Mark Evan Bonds quotes several sources from this period in Tom Beghin and Sander Goldberg’s and the Performance of

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Rhetoric (2007), which reveal that while Franz Josef Haydn (1732-1809) was considered to have developed an effective musical oratory (Fröhlich cited in Beghin and Goldberg, eds., 2007: 110), Mozart’s works, in contrast, were seen to contain too many ideas for the listener to readily comprehend, according to German author and organist Ignaz Theodor Ferdinand Arnold (1774-1812) (Arnold cited in Beghin and Goldberg, eds., 2007: 111). Still, this publication quotes many late eighteenth-century treatises on musical composition, which reveal that the art of rhetoric was considered a vitally important concept in the portrayal of human emotions. I hope to establish the hypothesis that this thinking was very much a part of Mozart’s compositional thought process. While there is no primary source evidence which details the general education Mozart received from his father, or his compositional method, we may suggest with a degree of confidence that in light of Leopold’s university background and his pedagogical approach (see for example Versuch einer gründlichen Violinschule) that he would have passed on something of the same philosophical and aesthetic tradition to his son (Irving, 1997: 108).

Literature review

The literature reviewed for this dissertation can be divided into four distinct categories, which investigate themes surrounding rhetoric in music, other types of analytical studies of Mozart’s works and research into the operatic genre of dramma per musica. A fourth category has been devoted to the emotive qualities attributed to certain modes or keys during the eighteenth century. The affective character of key in Mozart’s compositions has been the most extensively researched area of rhetoric in music by musicologists since the early years of the twentieth century.

On surveying the literature consulted for this thesis, it became apparent that much of the research on all the topics relating to rhetoric in music and the dramma per musica has been carried out in the last thirty-five years. This could be attributed to an increased interest in the study of early music and the increased number of recordings being released by period instrument ensembles over this time. Also, many books and journal articles were published during the 1990s, especially to mark the bicentenary of Mozart’s death in 1991.

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Rhetoric in music

Leonard Ratner, John Irving and Constance Chevalier are major contributors to the field of research on rhetoric in music of the Classical period and rhetoric in Mozart’s works. Writers such as Ratner, Chevalier, Dietrich Bartel and Mark Evan Bonds approach the subject from a theoretical and aesthetic perspective, while other authors who are themselves distinguished performers, including Nikolaus Harnoncourt, John Irving, Judy Tarling and Patricia Ranum approach the topic of rhetoric in music as it would apply to performance.

Leonard G. Ratner’s Classic Music: Expression, Form, and Style (1980) remains one of the mainstay research publications on the classical style, despite being a relatively early musicological study on this period. Part II of Classic Music investigates the role of rhetoric in music in promoting eloquence. Ratner refers to eighteenth-century source material to support his score analysis of how components of discourse could be arranged, and he indicates their function in the art of persuading the intellect of the listener through music. Eighteenth-century theorists referred to this as the ‘rhetoric of music’ (Ratner, 1980: 31).

In concluding Part II of Classic Music, Ratner provides an analysis of the menuetto from ’s Symphony No. 101, the Clock (1794) according to the concepts of expression and rhetoric discussed previously. Ratner states that musical discourse during the late eighteenth century was employed to establish coherence and promote eloquence. He asserts that ‘these techniques and their expressive potential represent the heart of the classic style’ (Ratner, 1980: 206).

George J. Buelow opens his article ‘Rhetoric and Music’ in the New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians with an historical overview of the subject. He explains that the rediscovery of Quintilian’s Institutio Oratoria in 1416 formed the basis of the growing union between rhetoric and music during the sixteenth century.

Buelow then goes on to explore a variety of musical-rhetorical concepts, while a section of this article has been devoted to defining and explaining musical-rhetorical figures. He cites several examples of these musical figures of speech, mainly from seventeenth-century repertoire. Buelow also gives an overview of the concept of the affections. He asserts that

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‘Baroque music assumed as its primary aesthetic goal the achieving of stylistic unity based on emotional abstractions called the Affections’ (Buelow, 1980: Vol. 15, 800).

In the conclusion of his article, Buelow states that the vitality of rhetorical doctrines weakened progressively during the eighteenth century, although acknowledging that a rhetorical viewpoint continued to influence the musical aesthetics of the early and advanced stages of Classicism in the theoretical writings of the period, such as in Der musikalische Dilettant by Johann Friedrich Daube (c.1730-1797). Buelow says that the understanding of rhetorical expression was almost entirely forgotten during the nineteenth century and had to be ‘rediscovered and reconstructed’ by music historians of the twentieth century, as they discovered the importance of rhetoric as the basis of aesthetic and theoretical concepts in early music (Buelow, 1980: Vol. 15, 802).

Constance Chevalier’s doctoral dissertation, Imagination in the Music of Mozart: Eighteenth- Century Guidelines to Shaping Musical Expression (Stanford University, 1982) is a relatively early examination of rhetorical principles as they can be found in Mozart’s works. This thesis delves into the expression of the affections in musical composition of the late eighteenth century. While Chevalier’s thesis is focused on the expression of emotion in Mozart’s compositions, the scope of her dissertation is quite wide-ranging in scope; it is not genre- specific, and she investigates the idea that the listener became the focus of the ‘composer’s imaginative process’ (Chevalier, 1982: iv). Chevalier says that Mozart’s works ‘form an excellent subject for such analysis: ... ‘ (Chevalier, 1982: v). Her thesis revolves around the concept that a ‘lively imagination’ was considered one of the important attributes of an eighteenth-century composer. Chevalier concludes that composers of the period retained the classical view that the function of the imagination was decorative, finding the most attractive and persuasive means of expressing an idea (Chevalier, 1982: 330).

Baroque Music Today: Music as Speech (1982) and The Musical Dialogue (1984) both contain a collection of essays by Nikolaus Harnoncourt, the director of the pioneering period instrument orchestra Concentus Musicus Wien. Both publications share the viewpoint of George Buelow (see above), that the understanding of music from the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries has had to be ‘rediscovered’ by musicologists and performers of the twentieth century. This premise is the underlying theme of these two publications. 7

Many of the essays discuss rhetoric in music during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and the role it plays specifically in Mozart’s compositions. The essay ‘From Baroque to Classicism’ explains the differences in musical style between a work composed in the late Baroque period to that of the Classic period. Harnoncourt says that a better understanding of music of the Classic period could be brought about ‘based on our understanding of the music of the preceding age’ (Harnoncourt, 1988 edn: 124). He then cites the continuity of approach by musicians from the early seventeenth century to those of the late eighteenth century in their use and the intended emotional impact of the appoggiatura and repeated notes. Harnoncourt explains that the appoggiatura usually expresses a relaxation and resolution of tension, while repeated notes represent ‘heightened emotional states, in keeping with [Claudio] Monteverdi’s [1567-1643] original concept’ in Combattimento di e Clorinda (1624) (Harnoncourt, 1988 edn: 127).

Another essay in Baroque Music Today, ‘Origin and Development of Music as Speech (Klangrede)’ offers an historical perspective on the aesthetic aims of the Camerata of Counts Corsi and Bardi in Florence at the beginning of the seventeenth century. Harnoncourt says that the Camerata’s efforts to revive ancient Greek tragedy resulted in a change in approach to musical composition, in which dialogue formed the basis of music. Harnoncourt asserts that ‘such music had to be dramatic, for dialogue is by its very nature dramatic; its content is based on argument, persuasion, questioning, negation, conflict’ (Harnoncourt, 1988 edn: 129) – in other words, the new genre of opera necessarily had to be based on rhetoric.

Harnoncourt says that Monteverdi looked to the writings of Plato (c429-347BC), when he wished to express excited and agitated emotional states. Monteverdi called this the stile concitato, which introduced a new, previously unknown element into music: a purely dramatic, physical element. Stile concitato was represented by rapid tone-repetition and was used in the works of Handel and Mozart in exactly the same way that Monteverdi conceived it (Harnoncourt, 1988 edn: 132).

Harnoncourt states that the same dramaturgical principles were employed equally by Monteverdi and Mozart. Both were ‘always concerned with drama, dialogue, the individual word, conflict and its resolution, not with poetry set to music’ (Harnoncourt, 1988 edn: 135). 8

Harnoncourt is of the opinion that the ‘speaking’ element in music gradually declined following the French Revolution, in which music became increasingly subject to social and political ideology. In summing up, Harnoncourt says the music of Mozart has been as little understood as that of Monteverdi, by reducing Mozart’s works to being ‘merely beautiful’ (Harnoncourt, 1988 edn: 135). Harnoncourt asserts that Mozart’s contemporaries described his music as extremely rich in contrasts, vivid, stirring and heart-wrenching.

The Musical Dialogue again examines the works of Monteverdi, J.S. Bach (1685-1750) and Mozart in the context of their respective periods. The essays ‘Mozart: Size of Orchestras’ and ‘Mozart’s Use of Allegro and Andante’ investigate Mozart’s instrumental resources and the prevailing notions regarding tempo and dynamics. When referring to Mozart’s use of dynamics, Harnoncourt says that his application of the technique of employing dynamics to create expressive contrast, known as chiaroscuro (light and shade), ‘was recognisably one of Mozart’s greatest strengths’ (Harnoncourt, 1989 edn: 87). In his discussion of Mozart’s use of tempo, Harnoncourt observes a consistency in Mozart’s employment of tempo indications over a relatively long period of time, in which the tempi are often chosen for their emotional effect as well (Harnoncourt, 1989 edn: 92).

The final essay in The Musical Dialogue is one of particular relevance to this study. ‘Mozart’s Dramatic Technique as Reflected in his Idomeneo Correspondence’ offers a rare written commentary on the creative process which a composer undertakes when writing a new work. These letters reveal Mozart’s personal ideals for musical drama and his concern with the overall fusion, not only between music and poetry, but also between plot and character development. By referring to this correspondence, Harnoncourt points out how precise Mozart’s ideas for dramma per musica were, and specifically how he distinguished which facets of his operas belonged to the realm of the singer and which to that of the composer. These letters express Mozart’s thoughts on where he could yield to the wishes of the singer and where he had to assert his authority as the composer to retain the dramatic structure of his work (Harnoncourt, 1989 edn: 204). Harnoncourt says that this invaluable correspondence explains the motivation underlying many of Mozart’s compositional decisions, and it is also obvious that he approached his work self-critically and conscientiously (Harnoncourt, 1989 edn: 210).

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Mark Evan Bonds asserts that while form is one of the most widely used terms in musical aesthetics, it is also one of the most ambiguous. These ideas are canvassed in Wordless Rhetoric: Musical Form and the Metaphor of the Musical Oration (1991). Bonds states that descriptions of musical form appear only sporadically in eighteenth-century theoretical treatises, and form was not widely accepted as a category in its own right until the second third of the nineteenth century. Bonds investigates the shift in metaphors used to describe form from the eighteenth century into the nineteenth century. He asserts that eighteenth- century authors relied upon the imagery and vocabulary of rhetoric to comment on large- scale, movement-length form (Bonds, 1991: 4). He says that the parallels between music and rhetoric had long been recognised and that many musical terms are derived from grammar and rhetoric. Bonds states that these parallels reflect the broader process of thought, beyond a preoccupation with musical form alone (Bonds, 1991: 6).

Bonds goes on to assert that the Classical era’s rhetorical concept of form seems strikingly contemporary for us today, in many respects, due to the premise of the central role of the listener. He comments that scholars in literary criticism have long recognised the analytical value of a rhetorical approach to large-scale formal conventions.

The focus of Wordless Rhetoric is on the changing concept of musical form covering the period 1730-1850, which reflects the rise and fall of rhetoric as a central metaphor in accounts of musical form. Bonds analyses sonata-form movements with a broader commentary of the understanding of musical form in the late eighteenth century and early nineteenth century. He draws on a wide variety of contemporary German sources for this publication, including those by Heinrich Christoph Koch (1749-1816), Johann Mattheson (1681-1764) and Forkel.

Bonds states that he wishes to show the extent to which the ideas presented are representative of their respective generations and hopes to stimulate a renewed discussion on the ‘significance of rhetoric in our own understanding of a repertoire that is deceptively familiar’ (Bonds, 1991: 12). He concludes the introduction of Wordless Rhetoric by suggesting that a rhetorical approach anticipates several trends in recent critical thought, and that it represents a historical forerunner of the current listener-orientated approaches to form (Bonds, 1991: 181). 10

Part III of John Irving’s Mozart’s Piano Sonatas: Contexts, Sources, Style (1997) analyses this genre of solo keyboard works from a rhetorical standpoint. Irving investigates Mozart’s piano sonatas from the development of musical ideas or ‘topics’, known in rhetorical terminology as the inventio, through to an explanation of oratorical structure, or design – the disposition - and finally to a discussion of rhetorical style or expression, known as the elocutio. By looking at Irving’s research on the application of classical rhetoric to these sonatas, one can determine how oratorical structure was seen to be compatible with sonata form, which can be equally applied to late eighteenth-century vocal music. Irving’s publication offers a cross-section of Mozart’s compositional strategies.

Dietrich Bartel’s examination of Baroque musical thought in Musica Poetica: Musical- Rhetorical Figures in German Baroque music (1997) is an analysis on an unprecedented scale of the principles and devices of rhetoric. This publication serves as a resource for students of Baroque music and is frequently referenced by subsequent researchers in this field.

Part One explains the concepts behind the principles of rhetoric in German music from its theological basis developed during the Reformation to the late eighteenth century, as a means of expressing human emotions. Bartel then provides the reader with biographical information on the major theorists from this three-century period, their treatises on musical rhetoric and the classification of rhetorical figures. These figures are explained in detail in Part Three of Musica Poetica. Each of the theorists’ definitions of musical-rhetorical figures are presented in this concluding section.

Although it doesn’t deal with the subject of rhetoric in music per se, Patrik Juslin and John Sloboda’s Music and Emotion: Theory and Research (2001) develops the idea that music is the language of emotions, from the viewpoint of music psychology - this idea is the premise of rhetoric in music. The ancient notion that music can embody and signify emotional states is discussed. Juslin and Sloboda’s closest reference to rhetoric is explained in terms of the principle that music can be described metaphorically - as a figure of speech.

The Harmonic Orator: the Phrasing and Rhetoric of the Melody in French Baroque Airs (2001) by Patricia M. Ranum investigates the continuity of a rhetorical approach to French vocal music from the 1660s until the French Revolution. Ranum analyses eighteen French airs

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composed between 1672 and 1728 to prove her hypothesis, drawing extensively on the French literature on rhetoric from this period. In the conclusion to The Harmonic Orator, Ranum asserts that French music during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries was bound to poetry, rhetoric and acting, while the vocal part or ‘upper voice’ of these compositions reflected the prosody of French language and expressed emotions that are universal (Ranum, 2001: 433, 439). We do know that the Mozart family were acquainted with the French literature on this subject, as Leopold Mozart was a subscriber to the Correspondance Littéraire of German diplomat and literary critic Friedrich Melchior, Baron von Grimm (1723-1807) (Irving, 1997: 106).

The Weapons of Rhetoric by Judy Tarling (2005) investigates the rhetorical style of musical composition and performance from the sixteenth to the nineteenth centuries. The Weapons of Rhetoric explains the subject of rhetoric in music primarily for instrumentalists, with examples drawn from works composed c1700-1730.

Part One contains a review of definitions and the purpose of rhetoric, as well as providing an overview of the most important and influential works by classical authors. The role of rhetoric in education from the Renaissance to the nineteenth-century is also explained. Part Two outlines the inherent connection between music and oratory until the nineteenth century; it investigates the affect of musical composition and suggests that this method of communicating to the audience was seen as the most important factor in a musical performance. This idea is now undergoing a revival in historically informed music performance. Part Three further develops themes set in the previous section, explaining that the techniques of speech-based delivery must be applied to all art-forms, so that the message to be conveyed to the audience remains clear. The concluding two sections of The Weapons of Rhetoric are primarily based on the application of rhetoric to music. These chapters investigate the rhetorical structure of musical compositions and the affective role and delivery of rhetorical ornamentation.

In conclusion, Tarling urges her readers to view The Weapons of Rhetoric as a general introduction to the subject. She says musicians often place too much emphasis on the literal interpretation of the score, while the tools and purposes of rhetoric are largely forgotten or ignored (Tarling, 2005: 239). 12

Studies on key associations and Mozart’s use of key in his operas

The significance of Mozart’s choice of key or mode in the dramatic genres has always been a topic of significance to researchers of this field. Rita Steblin’s doctoral thesis examines the emotive qualities of keys from ancient times through to the nineteenth century, with a particular focus on the emotions conveyed by certain keys during the eighteenth century. The other authors canvassed here approach the subject as it pertains to Mozart’s operatic works.

The Operas of Mozart (1977) by William Mann was the first study in English to analyse all of Mozart’s operas, and it still remains one of the twentieth century’s most important contributions to this field of research. Even though Mann describes his book as ‘unscholarly- like’, he investigates Mozart’s compositional strategies, such as his choices of key in these works. Mann asserts that the choice of key for the eighteenth-century composer depended on ‘instrumental practicability ... which instruments could play in particular keys without difficulty or distortion’ (Mann, 1977: 20).

Stanley Sadie briefly addresses key associations in his biographical article on Mozart in the New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians (1980). Sadie comments that Mozart’s use of key should be viewed in the wider context of key traditions and instrumental characteristics. Sadie states that Mozart ‘essentially used tonality to secure a broad unity’, and that the broadest of these unifying schemes are found in Mozart’s operas (Sadie, 1980: Vol. 12, 714).

Rita Steblin’s doctoral thesis, Key Characteristics in the Eighteenth and Early Nineteenth Centuries: a historical approach (University of Illinois, 1980) investigates the association of emotion with individual keys. Steblin offers a historical study of the topic, examining the wealth of eighteenth and nineteenth-century literary material on the subject. Steblin claims that the history of key characteristics had not been dealt with in any detail at the time, and what discussion there was had been brief. Steblin’s thesis looks at key characteristics from three perspectives: physical, physiological and psychological.

In concluding her dissertation, Steblin asserts that the majority of musicians and composers believed that key characteristics existed and this view can ‘unlock some of music’s hidden nature’ for musicians of the present day (Steblin, 1983: 250). 13

Julian Rushton’s paper ‘Tonality in Act Three of Idomeneo’, in Studies in Music from the University of Western Ontario (1996), argues against earlier propositions that Mozart’s operas were composed according to a ‘tonal plan’. Rushton asserts that not every key can be functionally or dramatically related. He backs up this claim by stating that Haydn’s and Gluck’s operas do not generally end in the same key as the overture.

Rushton says that Mozart’s choice of tonality for each number in his operas was governed by a number of factors, such as instrumentation and the tessitura of the singers. Rushton comments that Act III of Idomeneo cannot be defined by giving excessive attention to any single dimension. He says ‘tonality considered as a method of structuring appears impotent to define its [the opera’s] qualities’ (Rushton, 1996: 45).

Other analytical approaches to Mozart’s operas

Over many decades, English-speaking authors have published book-length studies and shorter articles on Mozart’s operas, reflecting public and scholarly interest in the subject. Authors reviewed as part of the research for this dissertation, such as William Mann, Charles Osborne, Wolfgang Hildesheimer and David Cairns, take a somewhat journalistic approach to this topic, which may be intended for the opera-going public – an ‘intelligent’, although non-specialist audience. On the other hand, H.C. Robbins Landon, Donald Mitchell, Arthur Hutchings and James Webster are more academic in their writing style, focusing on particular aspects of Mozart’s operas in more depth.

The Mozart Companion (1956), edited by H.C. Robbins Landon and Donald Mitchell, is the earliest publication consulted for this study. The Mozart Companion offers an overall review of Mozart’s compositional output with each chapter devoted to a particular genre. The chapter on the concert presents a detailed harmonic analysis of many of these works, giving an insight into the structure of various eighteenth-century types. Many of the aria texts are taken from the drammi per musica of eighteenth century’s most celebrated librettist, (1698-1782). Paul Hamburger, the author of this chapter, says that the accompanied of Mozart’s concert arias ‘are, by and large, richer even than those of his mature operatic arias ... the harmonic and rhythmic structure of the orchestral passages reaches a high level of musico-dramatic tension almost from the outset’

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(Hamburger, 1956: 325). In his analysis of the recitative and aria Bella mia fiamma K.528, Hamburger comments that ‘Mozart has gone here to the limits of expression that are imposed on the classical artist by his overriding commitment to universality’ (Hamburger, 1956: 359).

Mozart: The Man – The Musician (1976) by Arthur Hutchings is a comprehensive overview of Mozart’s life and the times in which he lived, as well as providing extensive information on Mozart’s compositional output. The chapter ‘The First Great Opera’ from Part II looks in depth at Idomeneo, in which Hutchings first explains the difference in approach between Italian dramma per musica and its French counterpart, tragédie lyrique. The influence of Gluck’s ‘reform’ operas on Idomeneo is discussed. Hutchings specifically cites the introduction of French operatic elements into Idomeneo, such as the divertissement and the greater involvement of the chorus.

Wolfgang Hildesheimer briefly looks at the drammi per musica in his biographical and analytical study, Mozart (1983), in which he makes no secret of the fact that he finds the composer’s works of the genre and the genre itself ‘utterly dull’ (Hildesheimer, 1983: 147). Hildesheimer comments that Mozart’s task was ‘to set [the text] to music. And here that is all he did’ (Hildesheimer, 1983: 147). The author then goes on to state ‘the rigid form of opera seria is nearly as hard to enjoy as its unvarying subject matter’ (Hildesheimer, 1983: 142) and claims that ‘Mozart’s early recitativi accompagnati show no individual landscapes’ (Hildesheimer, 1983: 142).

Charles Osborne’s The Complete Operas of Mozart (1986) devotes a chapter, divided into three sections, to each of the operas. The first section is devoted to biographical information about the Mozart family’s life during the time when the opera being discussed was composed. The second section looks at the performance history of each opera, including a synopsis of the plot, as well as background information relating to the opera’s plot. A brief biography of the librettist is presented and any previous settings of the same work are discussed. The last section of each chapter contains a musical analysis of Mozart’s composition. Osborne gives a brief analysis of each separate number of the opera, which is generally confined to aria forms and Mozart’s choice of tempi. This contribution to the

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extensive literature on Mozart’s operas remains one of the few that includes the performance history and contemporary reaction to these works.

James Webster in his article ‘Mozart’s Operas and the Myth of Musical Unity’, Cambridge Opera Journal (1990) claims that there had been little informed musical analysis of Mozart’s operas as a whole, up until the time of this publication. Webster asserts that analysis had focused on Mozart’s operatic ensembles at the expense of the aria, and that ‘instrumental’ methods of analysis had been applied to the very different context of dramatic staged vocal music. He criticises the constant application of sonata-form analysis to operatic forms, such as the aria.

Webster goes on to point out that motivic development was Mozart’s most important compositional technique for generating coherence in his operas. He says the notion of tonal ‘unity’ in Mozart’s operas is suspect. According to Webster, the aria during the eighteenth century was indebted to the operatic traditions of the day. These conventions include: plot and character-types, verse patterns, key associations and semantic instrumental usages.

James Webster adds another contribution to research on Mozart’s operas in his chapter entitled: ‘The Analysis of Mozart’s Arias’ in Cliff Eisen’s Mozart Studies (1991). He repeats his assertion that analytical research on Mozart’s operatic works has been inhibited due to Mozart’s fame as a composer of instrumental works. Webster laments that sonata form had been privileged in the discussion of musical form, which, according to him, plays a minor role in the individual numbers of an opera.

Webster also briefly surveys the rhetorical nature of music during the eighteenth century, through which the aria plays the most important role in opera of the period. Here he bases his position on the notion (which he claims was taken for granted in Mozart’s lifetime) that there was a general analogy between events in a musical work and Aristotle’s analysis of rhetoric.

The focus of David Cairns’ Mozart and his Operas (2006) is on Mozart’s most famous operas from the composer’s years in Vienna. Only one chapter is devoted to the nine ‘early’ operas. This chapter - Imitation, Assimilation: The Early Operas continues the long-held view that these works are modelled on the operatic conventions of the period and are therefore to be 16

regarded only as examples of Mozart honing his musical style, culminating in the famous opere buffe of his mature period.

Research on the dramma per musica

The past 20 years has seen a renewed interest in the genre of dramma per musica by music and literary scholars alike. Much of the recent research has focused on the libretti of Pietro Metastasio, whose reputation in the history of opera remains unmatched. Although Metastasio’s fame nowadays rests chiefly on his twenty-seven drammi per musica, the broad spectrum of his other works intended for musical setting brought over 400 composers into contact with his texts, which were known and revered from Britain to Russia for over a century (Neville, ‘Metastasio, Pietro.’ Grove Music Online).

Three Melodramas by Pietro Metastasio (1981), translated and edited by Joseph G. Fucilla, is amongst the few English translations of Metastasio’s works. The three musical dramas featured in this publication are Abandoned, Demetrius and The Olympiad. Fucilla’s translations are based on the complete edition of Metastasio’s works, which was published by the Veuve Hérissant in between 1780 and 1782. Fucilla’s introductory notes provide us with some of the most comprehensive research into Metastasio’s life and his operatic aesthetic.

Following a brief biography, Fucilla analyses some of Metastasio’s better-known musical dramas. The literary influences on these libretti are investigated and it is revealed that the plot of The Olympiad is largely drawn from the writings of Herodotus and the guide-book writer Pausanias (2nd century AD), while stylistically this work is influenced by Italian Renaissance poets, (1544-1595) and Giovanni Battista Guarini (1538-1612).

The commentary on Metastasio’s work then moves to the overarching aesthetic of eighteenth-century dramma per musica. Fucilla explains the personal conflicts of the protagonists in Metastasian opera, which are expressed in rhetorical style to reflect the characters from the ancient past. The popularity of Metastasio’s works is discussed not only from a musical point of view, but also from a purely literary aspect.

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Reinhard Strohm’s Dramma per musica: Italian Opera Seria of the Eighteenth-Century (1997) could be described as one of the definitive publications of recent years, which investigates the most highly regarded musical genre of the eighteenth century. Dramma per musica is a collection of Strohm’s various essays on the subject.

Dramma per musica is divided into four major sections: court and city opera; tragédie into dramma per musica; theory and practice; and themes and dreams. The essays argue that dramma per musica was an enormously successful genre that was in a constant state of expansion and transformation during the eighteenth century. As well as looking at this operatic genre from a historical perspective, Strohm also investigates the dramma per musica from a theoretical approach – both literary and musical. For example, the essays look at the hierarchical structure of the genre and the influence of French spoken tragedy from c.1700. The chapters dealing with the musical aspects of dramma per musica revolve around the role that rhetoric played in the musical settings of the libretti.

The Early Music journal issue of November 1998 is dedicated to the works of Metastasio. This volume primarily discusses the dramaturgical aspects of the Metastasian libretto, including the role that classical rhetoric played in the composition of these works.

Reinhard Strohm’s article ‘Dramatic dualities: Metastasio and the tradition of the opera pair’ argues that even though Metastasio’s career began in , his literary standards were based on Roman traditions. Strohm looks at the poetic style of Metastasio, which favoured symmetry and balance, while Wendy Heller’s article ‘Reforming Achilles: gender, opera seria and the rhetoric of the enlightened hero’ discusses the reforms to the opera libretto introduced by the Accademia degli Arcadi, of which Metastasio was a member (see Chapter I).

Don Neville’s essay in Early Music, ‘Opera or Oratorio? Metastasio’s sacred opere serie’ investigates the moral content of Metastasio’s works and how this content was a contributing factor to his continued veneration. Neville explains that Metastasio’s libretti were based on the principles developed by the Accademia degli Arcadi of Rome, which turned to the ideals of classical rhetoric for inspiration. Neville explains that the task for the

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dramatic writer was to move the passions of the listeners, as well as to instruct them. Neville asserts that moral issues are a feature of the Metastasian libretto.

Ancient Rome in Early Opera (2009) by Robert C. Ketterer explores the two important myths that provided to seventeenth and eighteenth-century Europe - the myth of the clement prince and the myth of liberty. Ketterer argues that operas of this period contained plot patterns structured around the premise of ancient virtue and liberty.

Ketterer asserts that early opera was based on Hellenistic principles, not Classical ones. He explains that opera was defined by the concepts seen in Aristotle’s Poetics and Horace’s Ars Poetica. Ketterer also argues that Plutarch’s myths of power, villainy and heroism sustained the European imagination from antiquity to the end of the eighteenth century.

Ketterer discusses the influence of French spoken tragedy on Italian opera libretti from c.1690, which adhered more closely to Aristotelian principles favouring the heroic and pathetic, along with the continued inclusion of a love interest. He also traces the development of dramma per musica; a genre which, he says gained appreciation for its literary merit as a dramatic poem throughout the eighteenth century. Ketterer asserts that operas with antimonarchical themes, composed during the 1790s, were inspired by French revolutionary dramas.

Literature review: an overview

As the literature review has revealed, much of the research on rhetoric in music explores this subject as it applies to the compositions of the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. This can be attributed to the fact that the more well-known treatises on this topic were published during this period – for example, Musica Poetica (1606) by Joachim Burmeister (1564-1629) and Der vollkommene Capellmeister (1739) by Johann Mattheson, as well as the wealth of French literature on rhetoric in the arts.

While many aspects of Mozart’s works have been researched thoroughly since his death, no investigation has been made into Mozart’s application of musical rhetoric to his drammi per musica. I believe the reason for this to be two-fold. Analytical research into Mozart’s operas has tended to focus on his most well-known works for the stage, such as the opere buffe

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and Singspiele composed during Mozart’s residency in Vienna (1781-1791). On the other hand, research into the musical dramas of the period has generally focused on the ‘reform’ operas of Christoph Willibald von Gluck (1714-1787), and perhaps because of the overwhelming scholarly interest in the comic operas of Lorenzo Da Ponte (1749-1838), there are very few analyses of Mozart’s drammi per musica, apart from Idomeneo and La clemenza di Tito.

The aims of this thesis

This dissertation draws heavily upon the musical and rhetorical treatises from antiquity to the eighteenth century, allowing the authors to speak for themselves. A study of these sources aims to contribute to a better understanding of Mozart and his drammi per musica - to learn as much as we can about these works, and late eighteenth-century opera of the serious genre as a whole. The study of Mozart’s use of rhetoric in his drammi per musica brings to light important trends in the development of operatic composition of the period, as well as aspects of Mozart’s own compositional techniques and style.

By way of introduction, Chapter One will give a brief overview of the development of the dramma per musica and its various sub-genres from the beginning of the seventeenth century until the end of the following century. This chapter will also include a discussion dealing with eighteenth-century perspectives on rhetoric. Chapter Two will examine the variety of rhetorical figures available to Mozart, which he could portray musically; then, the main body of this dissertation will investigate the musical adaptation of a number of specific rhetorical devices and structures in his operas of the genre dramma per musica. Although the subject of invention (inventio) or loci topici is known as the first division of rhetoric, it is not the primary focus of this thesis due to the extensive research already undertaken in this field, most notably by Robert Hatten in Interpreting Musical Gestures, Topics and Tropes: Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert (2004), Raymond Monelle in The Musical Topic: Hunt, Military and Pastoral (2006) and Danuta Mirka (ed.) in The Oxford Handbook of Topic Theory (2014). The purpose of this thesis is to explore the potential of analysing Mozart’s drammi per musica in terms of classical rhetoric. Consequently, the emphasis is devoted more extensively to figures of rhetoric than on the subject of topics (see for example Institutio Oratoria by Quintilian). 20

Throughout this dissertation, quotations are referenced for ease of location in their original language editions, unless otherwise stated. Translations are drawn from a number of sources, including Dietrich Bartel (Musica Poetica: Musical-Rhetorical Figures in German Baroque Music, 1997), Mark Evan Bonds (Wordless Rhetoric: Musical Form and the Metaphor of the Musical Oration, 1991), Thomas Christensen and Nancy Kovaleff-Baker (Aesthetics and the art of musical composition in the German Enlightenment, 1995), John Irving (Mozart's Piano Sonatas: Contexts, Sources, Style, 1997), Rosalind Parsonson [Halton] (Symphonic Style and Structural Tonality in the late Eighteenth Century, with special emphasis on the music of Haydn, 1980) and Rita Steblin (Key characteristics in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries: A historical approach, 1983). My own translations have been provided for the quotations from the treatises and dictionary entries by Pierre Baillot (L’art du violon, n.d.), Johann Philipp Kirnberger (Die Kunst des reinen Satzes in der Musik 1774-1779), Joseph de La Porte (Dictionnaire dramatique, 1776), Jean-Jacques Rousseau (Dictionnaire de musique, 1768) and Christian Friedrich Daniel Schubart (Ideen zu einer Aesthetik der Tonkunst, 1839 edn). The music examples in this thesis are taken from the Neue Ausgabe Sämtlicher Werke published by Bärenreiter-Verlag.

I hope that this dissertation will open up a new analytical approach to the drammi per musica of Mozart, and that it will enable us to understand them better by drawing on the available primary source material, which describes how the passions of the performer and listener were to be moved by the rhetorical delivery of a musical composition. As Aristotle states in The Art of Rhetoric: ‘... rhetoric is a useful skill. ... even if we should possess the most precise understanding of a question, we would more easily achieve persuasion by speaking rhetorically’ (1.1, Aristotle trans. Lawson-Tancred, 1991: 69).

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Chapter I

The theory and practice of dramma per musica and rhetoric in the eighteenth century

At the time of Mozart’s birth in 1756, the dramma per musica was considered the foremost musical genre of the time, and a commission for such a work was highly sought after by all composers of the period. Despite the increasing popularity of dramma giocoso, it was dramma per musica that always opened the operatic carnival season (Strohm, 1997: 9). The libretti of these operas were very often based on the works of Italian poet, Pietro Metastasio, whose texts were esteemed so highly that they were re-set repeatedly throughout the eighteenth century, sometimes by the same composer. For instance, Niccolò Jommelli composed four settings of Metastasio’s Demofoonte and , as well as three settings of abbandonata and riconosciuta (McClymonds, 1980: 692- 693).

The genre of Metastasian musical drama was highly stereotyped, and was governed by traditional forms that disseminated courtly polish and the allegorical heroic world of a glorified antiquity (Kunze, 1989: 30). These aspects of Metastasio’s works illustrated the principles of the Arcadian movement, which turned to antiquity (Aristotle, Cicero et al) and classical French spoken tragedy for guidance. For example, Il sogno di Scipione was Mozart’s first full setting of a libretto by Metastasio, which is based on Cicero’s Somnium Scipionis, while La clemenza di Tito is based on the French verse spoken tragedy Cinna, ou La Clémence d’Auguste by Pierre Corneille (1606-1684) (Osborne, 1986: 76). Both classical philosophy and French tragedy contributed to the moral task of inculcating a love of virtue and a detestation of vice. In Les Passions de l’âme, René Descartes talks of striving for generosity (in terms of a sense of magnanimity, clemency, benevolence and compassion) and devotion (in the sense of self-sacrificial love). The Accademia degli Arcadi in Rome used philosophy as one of the sources from which beauties of thought could be imprinted on the mind with the aid of fundamental enchantments such as words, figures of speech and versification. Hence, moral issues are a feature of the Metastasian libretto. (Neville, 1998: 602) English music historian, Dr Charles Burney (1726-1814) in his Memoirs of the Life and

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Writings of the Abate Metastasio says that: ‘[Metastasio’s] writings are well known to breathe the most noble sentiments and the purest morality’ (Burney, 1796: Vol. 1, vi).

The moral content of these libretti was a significant factor contributing to the continued veneration of Metastasio for decades. Each opera deals with powerful personal conflicts, such as love versus duty, friendship versus filial devotion, friendship versus love, friendship versus justice. Each side of these dualities arises from the conflict between a character’s instincts or emotions, and their sense of duty or righteousness. Throughout his long dramatic career, Metastasio steadfastly applied the Horatian precept of utile dulci dilectando (pleasurable instruction) to his works (Fucilla, 1981: 6). This concept was particularly suited to the genre of dramma per musica. The drama not only expresses the emotions of the characters, but is also used as a vehicle for moral edification and an intellectual discourse about human nature. Its subjects therefore comprise the passions (pathos), along with virtues and social norms (ethos) (Strohm, 1997: 18).

The reverence in which Metastasio was held resulted in his dramas holding virtually absolute sway on the musical stage for some fifty years (Fucilla, 1981: 9). This devotion is confirmed by Dr Burney, who stresses the literary qualities of the poetry:

... besides their intimate connection with music and its possession, I found in them so many pleasing, beautiful, and new sentiments, on other subjects, written in a style so superior in elegance, grace and facility, to any other Italian prose with which I am acquainted, that I wished to recommend them to students and lovers of Italian literature in general, as models of familiar letters, and of easy and elegant prose (Burney, 1796: Vol. 1, iii).

Metastasio’s poetic style and outlook favoured symmetries and balances of many kinds, from rhetorical duplications to philosophical maxims. As a dramatist, he habitually operated with dualities as a precondition for harmony. These dualities are specifically set up to engender the events which differ from one drama to another (Strohm, 1998: 557). The concept of symmetry extended to the hierarchy of the dramatis personae in dramma per musica. They consist of six or seven characters: the principal pair of lovers, the primo uomo and prima donna, are opposed by a figure of authority (primo tenore). A second couple of lesser importance (the secondo uomo and seconda donna) who are closely allied to the 23

more senior couple have more complicated relationships to the leading characters and to each other (Kunze, 1989: 32-33). This point is illustrated in n a letter of 13 December 1749, in which Metastasio says that on hearing Jommelli’s 1749 setting of the role of the seconda donna, Selene, was more ‘considerable’ than he had previously thought. (Savage, 1998: 591) Other characters of lower standing (the ultima parte or secondo tenore) are confidants to the leading personages. Metastasio introduced these characters to enable the protagonists to voice their thoughts (Fucilla, 1981: 8).

It has been suggested that Metastasio progressively internalised the acting-out of various conflicts, or that he tended to juxtapose an internalised mental conflict with an externalised physical one – La clemenza di Tito being a good example (Strohm, 1998: 557). Therefore, the development of the Metastasian libretto was the result of an intricate convergence of philosophical, artistic, political and practical forces that influenced both consumers and producers of opera. Metastasio’s reforms to dramma per musica include the regularisation and homogenisation of the libretto, the elimination of comic characters, the simplification of complex plots - and, most importantly, the renewed emphasis on the dignity of the poetic expression (Heller, 1998: 563).

The amorous motif prevails in Metastasian musical drama, as it does in the works of virtually all the Arcadian poets. The main categories into which this motif is fragmented are expressions of jealousy and sadness, and the laments of jilted lovers and those who are absent from their beloved. These usually take the form of emotional outbursts or elegiac effusions. Joseph Fucilla, in his English translation of three of Metastasio’s drammi per musica, voices his opinion that Metastasio conceived his characters more as abstractions than real flesh and blood representations, particularly in the case of the heroic personages. Fucilla is also of the view that the females in Metastasio’s operas are far more expressive than his males, in terms of the variety and range of the emotions expressed (Fucilla, 1981: 6, 7).

Amongst Metastasio’s literary influences were Torquato Tasso and Pierre Corneille, whose great heroines and Andromeda served as models for successive generations of poets. Many similarities can be seen between Metastasio’s depiction of Dido, in his first

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dramma per musica, Didone abbandonata (1724) and the sorceress Armida, in Philippe Quinault’s (1635-1688) tragédie en musique, (1686), which was first set to music by Jean-Baptiste Lully (1632-1687). In both works, the leading female character’s swiftly changing moods express by turns pride, humility, anger, suspicion, jealousy, vengeance, mockery and desperation. This type of characterisation was extremely important to Metastasio, and Arthur Hutchings asserts in Mozart: The Man. The Musician that Mozart was to revive it in his drammi per musica, particularly in Idomeneo:

The characterisation [in Idomeneo] is so well defined that nothing sung by Idamante can be mistaken for music from the mouth of Idomeneo or Arbace, any more than anything sung by Electra can be mistaken for music from Ilia. Indeed, the power of characterisation by music (not to be confused with appropriate treatment of characters already well distinguished in the words), for which Mozart is so much extolled in writings about the comic operas, first shows itself brilliantly in Idomeneo ... (Hutchings, 1978, Part II, 54).

Returning to the Metastasian model of dramma per musica, Joseph Fucilla says that the musical settings of Didone abbandonata kept eighteenth-century audiences in a continual state of excited suspense (Fucilla, 1981: 2). One can say that Didone abbandonata is a drama of character, specifically one character who dominates all others and who has been aptly called the first ‘living woman’ to appear on the Italian stage (Fucilla, 1981: 2). Metastasio also wrote of the importance of character development and verisimilitude in his works. In a letter of 23 July 1734 to the bookseller Giuseppe Bettinelli, Metastasio defends his opera, Demofoonte (1733) against a scathing pamphlet attack:

... I believe, that a person may act differently in different situations, without inconsistency of character. Timanthes, is a valiant young man, subject to the emotions of youth, though naturally reasonable, and furnished by education with maxims suitable to persons of his rank. When assaulted by passion, he is impetuous, violent, and inconsiderate. But when he has time to reflect, or any object present, reminds him of his duty, he is just, moderate, and rational. And in the whole course of the drama, that contrast always appears, which arises either from the conflicting operations of the mind and heart, or of impetuosity and reason. ... The same rule, in different proportion, has been observed in the character of Creusa; a Princess wholly governed by the vanity of high rank and beauty. Offended by Timanthes, unexpectedly, in both, without a moment’s time for reflection, she breaks out into a desire of vengeance; but after the first emotion, she not only gives it up, but discovers it to be ill-founded, and is impelled by her reason, as in justice she ought to 25

be, to pity the very person, whom her revenge was pursuing. This does not appear to me, inconsistency of character, but the diversity of situation, without which, every character would be insipid and improbable (Metastasio quoted in Burney, 1796: Vol. 1, 148-150).

... ma io credeva, che non fosse variazione di carattere il distinguere un personaggio in diverse situazioni. Il mio Timante è un giovane valoroso, soggetto agl’impeti delle passioni, ma provveduto dalla natura di ottimo raziocinio, e fornito dall’educazione delle massime più lodevoli in un suo parì. Quanto è assolito da alcune passione è impetuoso, violento, inconsiderato. Quando ha tempo di riflettere, o che alcun oggetto presentemente gli rammenti i suoi doveri, è gusto, moderato, ragionevole; ed in tutto corso del dramma si vede sempre in esso questo contrasto, o vicendevole operazione della mente, e di quella del cuore, degl’impeti, e della ragione. ... Le stessa regola con diversa proporzione ho tenuto nel carattere di Creusa. Ella è una principessa eccessivamente dominate dal fasto del suo grado, e dalla sua bellezza. Offesa in aspettatamente da Timante, e nell’uno, e nell’altra, senza aver un momento di tempo da ragionare, prorompe inconsideratamente nella richiesta di una vendetta, che, sedato l’impeto primo, non solamente trascura, ma conosce non esserle dovuta, anzi a forza di razionicio si riduce (come era giusto) a compatire lo stesso, che perseguitava. Questo non mi pareva disuguaglianza di carattere, ma diversità di situazione, senza la quale ogni carattere sarebbe insipido, e inverisimile (Metastasio, 1786: Vol. 2, 16-18).

From Metastasio’s letters we can see that values important to him in the musical setting and subsequent performance of his libretti included ‘harmonious’ music, ‘real’ acting and doing justice to character. Metastasio wrote his libretti for singer-actors, whom he most admires when they ‘transport everyone with their figure, their singing and their unbelievable expression of character/rappresentanti rapiscono, e per la figura, e pel canto, e per l’incredibile espressione de’loro caratteri’ (Metastasio, 1786: Vol. 2, 223) or show ‘excellence in voice, taste and acting/l’eccellenza della voce, del gusto, e dell’azione’ (Metastasio, 1786: Vol. 5, 36). All of these statements clearly mesh with Metastasio’s aesthetic for opera, and the texts are essentially concerned with the manifestation of character in action or response to action. Metastasio says himself that diversities in individual character are true to life, in the best tradition of (70-19BC), Tasso and Ludovico Ariosto (1474-1533). Hence, the performers in his dramas must portray a realistic depiction of human character. If they do not, Metastasio says they will be no more than mere exhibitors of vocal technique – uttering ‘sonatinas for the throat/sonatina di gola’, as

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he describes it in a disenchanted letter of 1771, where he declares that the role of opera- performers is ‘the art of presenting human sentiments and actions ... so as to occupy the hearts and minds of spectators/l’arte di rappresentar gli affetti, e le azioni umane, ... chi balla d’impegnar la mente, ed il cuore degli spettatori’ (Metastasio, 1786: Vol. 1, 116).

It is quite clear that Metastasio knew how he wanted his works to be presented in his collaborative dramatic presentation with singers, with ‘human sentiments and actions’, supported and enhanced by music which did not stray from the passion of the character. The letters reveal that, in order to achieve a proper impact on spectators, he ‘pre-staged’ each opera in detail in his head, thinking out matters of the active expression of character, the ‘blocking’ of individual scenes, and any functional aspects of the staging (Savage, 1998: 588). Likewise, the collaboration between poet and composer was seen as a crucial way of conveying expression through the union of music and text during the eighteenth century. The famous collaboration between Philippe Quinault and Jean-Baptiste Lully was widely acclaimed, and remained a model for librettists and composers. In eighteenth-century Italian-language opera, Metastasio’s collaborations with Antonio Caldara (c1670-1736) during the 1730’s, and with Johann Adolf Hasse (1699-1783), who set most of Metastasio’s texts, were praised as much as the works of Quinault and Lully. Already Metastasio’s first collaborations with Leonardo Vinci (c1690-1730) during the 1720’s received similar adulation in Francesco Algarotti’s (1712-1764) Saggio sopra l’opera in musica (1755) (Algarotti, 1763 edn: 26).

Mozart’s ideals for dramma per musica

The correspondence that Mozart conducted with his father during the lead-up to the premiere of Idomeneo (1780-1781) has been widely considered as of seminal importance in revealing the method and approach which Mozart employed in composing music for the stage, as well as the working relationship he had with his librettists. These letters show us Mozart’s personal concepts for musical drama and his concern with the overall fusion not only of music and poetry, but also of plot and character development. In these letters, Mozart talks of the important role that he believed verisimilitude and characterisation played in musical drama. With Leopold acting as intermediary between Wolfgang and the

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librettist of Idomeneo, Abbate Giambattista Varesco (c1736-1805), the letters reveal Mozart’s primary concern with continuity of plot and verse. In the first letter after his arrival in Munich, Mozart wrote to his father on 8 November 1780, addressing both of these issues:

Some slight alterations will have to be made here and there, and the recitatives will have to be shortened a bit. ... I have just one request to make of the Abbate. Ilia’s aria in Act II, Scene 2 should be altered to suit what I require. ‘Se il padre perdei, in te lo ritrovo’; this verse could not be better. But now comes what has always seemed unnatural to me – I mean, in an aria – and that is, a spoken aside. In a dialogue, all these things are quite natural, for a few words can be spoken aside hurriedly; but in an aria where the words have to be repeated, it has a bad effect, ... The beginning may stand, if it suits him [Varesco], for the poem is charming and, as it is absolutely natural and flowing and therefore as I have not got to contend with difficulties arising from the words, I can go on composing quite easily; ... (Mozart trans. Anderson, 1985 edn: 659-660).

Er werden so da und dort kleine veränderungen vorgenommen werden – die Recitativ etwas abgekürzt - ... Ich habe nun eine Bitte an H: Abbate; - die Aria der Ilia im zweÿten Ackt und zweÿten Scene möchte ich für das was ich sie Brauche ein wenig verändert haben – se il padre perdei in te lo ritrovo; diese stropfe könte nicht besser seÿn – Nun aber kömmts was mir immer NB: in einer Aria, unatürlich schien – nemlich das à parte reden. Im Dialogue sind diese Sachen ganz Natürlich – Man sagt geschwind ein paar Worte auf die Seite – aber in einer aria – wo man die wörte wiederhollen muß – macht es üble Wirkung – der anfang kann bleiben wenn er ihm taugt, den der ist Charmant – eine ganz Natürlich fortfliessende Aria – wo ich nicht so sehr an die Worte gebunden, nur so ganz leicht auch fortschreiben kan, ... (Briefe und Aufzeichnungen zu W.A. Mozart und seiner Familie aus den Beständen der Stiftung Mozarteum Salzburg, n.d).

Mozart’s desire not to disrupt the drama or the on-stage action in Idomeneo is highlighted in his next letter to his father on 13 November 1780:

The second duet is to be omitted altogether – and indeed with more profit than loss to the opera. For, when you read through the scene, you will see that it is obviously limp and cold by the addition of an aria or duet, and very gênant for the other actors who must stand by doing nothing; and, besides, the noble struggle between Ilia and Idamante would be too long and lose its whole force (Mozart trans. Anderson, 1985 edn: 662).

Das 2:te Duetto bleibt ganz weg – und zwar mit mehr Nutzen als schaden für di opera; denn, sie sehen wohl, wenn sie die scene überlesen daß die scene durch eine aria oder Duetto matt und kalt wird – und für die andern acteurs, die so hir stehn müssen sehr 28

genant ist – und überdiß würde der großmüthige kampf zwischen Ilia und Idamante zu lange, und folgich sein ganzen Werth verlieren (Briefe und Aufzeichnungen zu W.A. Mozart und seiner Familie aus den Beständen der Stiftung Mozarteum Salzburg, n.d).

These dramatic issues were of importance not only to Wolfgang, but to his father also. Leopold writes on 18 November 1780:

Idomeneo must land from the ship with his retinue. Then follow the words which he speaks to them, upon which they withdraw. You will remember that I sent off this objection to Munich; but your reply was that thunderstorms and seas pay no attention to etiquette. This, I admit, would be true, if a shipwreck were to take place. But the vow has released them. This landing will produce a very fine effect. For a long time Varesco refused to touch the duet ‘Deh soffri in pace, o cara’. But I have persuaded him. Idamante and Ilia will still have a very short discussion consisting of a few words in recitative, which is interrupted, as it were, by a subterranean rumbling, and then the utterance of a subterranean voice is heard. This voice and its accompaniment must be moving, terrifying, and altogether unusual; and it can be a masterpiece of harmony. I enclose the alteration which has already been made (L. Mozart trans. Anderson, 1985 edn: 666).

Idomeneo muß mit seinem Gefolge vom Schiffe austretten. Hier folgen die Worte, die er zu dem Gefolge spricht, die sich dann entfrenen. Du weist, daß ich diesen Einwurf nach München gemacht habe: allein man schrieb zurück, daß sich die donnerwetter und das Meer an keine Étiquétte kehren. Ja – gewiß – wenn ein Schifbruch erfolgt wäre. Aber sie wurden durch das Gelübde befreÿet. Überhaupts wird diese Landung ein prächtiges Ansehen machen. Wegen dem Duetto, welches heist deh soffri in pace ò Cara etc. wollte H: Varesco lange nicht daran; allein ich überzeigte ihn. Nur haben, noch Idamante und Ilia noch einen ganz kurzen Streitt von etlichen Worten in Recitativ, welcher von einem unterirrdischen Geräusche, so zu sagen, unterbrochen under ausspruch durch eine Unterirrdische Stimme gehört wird, welche Stimme und ihre Begleitung rührend, schreckbar und ausserordentlich seÿn muß, das kann ein Meisterstück der Harmonie wurden. Hier wirst du die bereits gemachten veränderungen beygelegt finden (Briefe und Aufzeichnungen zu W.A. Mozart und seiner Familie aus den Beständen der Stiftung Mozarteum Salzburg, n.d).

This unique sequence of letters between father and son not only highlights Leopold’s obvious influence on Wolfgang’s aesthetic views on music, but also gives an insight into the more general context of music education during the eighteenth century. With Leopold’s university education in philosophy and law, we may assume that he received a thorough grounding in Roman law, the standard principles of argumentation, and in particular, 29

forensic, or judicial rhetoric – the species of oratory devoted to prosecuting or defending a legal case. Leopold Mozart was undeniably a man of wide learning. In preparation for writing Versuch einer gründlichen Violinschule (1756), Leopold immersed himself in the study of rhetorical textbooks, as revealed by letters he wrote to the publisher Johann Lotter during 1755 (see page 2). The ‘Short History of Music’ which prefaces Violinschule names a multitude of music theorists from Gioseffo Zarlino (1517-1590) to those of the eighteenth century, such as Mattheson. Leopold was acquainted with the musical dictionaries of Sébastien de Brossard (1655-1730) and Johann Gottfried Walther (1684-1748), which he mentions as the source for authors of the hundreds of theoretical treatises in existence by the mid-eighteenth century. We also know that the Mozart family owned copies of Gradus ad Parnassum (1725) by Johann Joseph Fux (1660-1741), as well as Anfangsgründe zur musikalischen Setzkunst (1752) and Grundregeln zur Tonordnung insgemein (1755) by Joseph Riepel (1709-1782).

In an earlier letter of 11 June 1778 to his wife and son, then in Paris, Leopold writes of his wish to obtain a copy of Kurpfälzische Tonschule (1778) by the Mannheim-based theorist Georg Joseph Vogler (1749-1814) and of his own plans to publish another treatise:

I hear that Vogler at Mannheim has brought out a book, which the Government of the Palatinate has prescribed for the use of all clavier teachers in the country, both for singing and composition. I must see this book and I have already ordered it. There must be some sound stuff in it, for he could copy the clavier method from Bach’s [Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach (1714-1788)] book, the outlines of a singing method from Tosi [Pier Francesco Tosi (c1653-1732)] and Agricola [Johann Friedrich Agricola (1720-1774)], and rules for composition and harmony from Fux, Riepel, Marpurg [Friedrich Wilhelm Marpurg (1718-1795)], Mattheson, Spiess [Meinrad Spiess (1681-1761], Scheibe [Johann Adolf Schiebe (1708-1776)], d’Alembert [Jean le Rond d’Alembert (1717-1783)] and Rameau [Jean-Philippe Rameau (1683-1764)] and a host of others, and then boil them down into a shorter system, such as I have long had in mind. This I am anxious to see whether his ideas accord with mine. You ought to have this book, for such works are useful when giving lessons (L. Mozart trans. Anderson, 1985 edn: 548-549).

Vom Vogler in Mannheim ist ein Buch bekannt gemacht wurden, welches von der Pfälzischen Regierung allein Meistern im Land fürs Clavier, fürs Singen, und für Composition vorgeschrieben ist. Das Buch muß ich sehen, ich hab schon Comission gegeben, solches mir zu verschreiben. Gutes wir immer etwas darine seyn, dann die Clavier Methode konnte er aus Bachs Buche, - die Anweisung der Singmethode aus

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Tosi und Agricola und die Anweisung zur Composition und Harmonie aus Fux, Riepel, Marpurg, Matheson, Spies, Scheibe, d’Alembert, Rameau und einer Menge anderer herausschreiben und in ein Kürzeres Systema bringen, ein Systema, das ich schon lange im Kopf hatte; ich bin fürwitzig, ob es mit meiner Idée übereins kommt. Du solltest das Buch haben – es sind derley sachen zum Lectiongeben vortheillhaft (Briefe und Aufzeichnungen zu W.A. Mozart und seiner Familie aus den Beständen der Stiftung Mozarteum Salzburg, n.d).

This is the educational atmosphere within which Mozart grew up in Salzburg. We may assume that his father would have passed on much of this pedagogical tradition to his son, in a household in which learning was respected by an erudite father whose education incorporated a detailed study of grammar, rhetoric, philosophy, law, music theory and composition (Irving, 1997: 106, 108).

Rhetoric in the eighteenth century

Concerns with the ‘realistic’ depiction of emotion and the expression of sentiment (sentenza) were the ultimate aim of rhetorical delivery in the eighteenth century. These ideals were certainly inherited from the philosophical writings of the ancient world. Aristotle asserts in his Art of Rhetoric that: ‘emotions are those things by the alteration of which men differ with regard to those judgements which pain and pleasure accompany, such as anger, pity, fear and all other such and their opposites’ (2.1, Aristotle, trans. Lawson-Tancred, 1991: 141).

Connections between Greek tragedy and the genre of dramma per musica date back to the establishment of the Florence Camerata at the beginning of the seventeenth century and were continually being made throughout the following century. Members of the Camerata, Vincenzo Galilei (late 1520s-1591) and Girolamo Mei (1519-1594) envisioned and developed the idea of a dramma per musica, in which they sought to revive the ancient Greek ideal of the union between poetry and music (Palisca, 1980: Vol. 7, 96). Galilei and Mei sought to restore what they considered to be ancient Greek art forms and values. This new genre, which we now call opera, was believed to recapture Greek models in a form that was modern (Thomas, 2002: 89). In his Dialogo della musica antica et della moderna, Galilei explains a number of principles which continued to be observed by composers through to

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the end of the eighteenth century: that the ‘affections’ or emotions expressed by a text should be set in an appropriate range of the voice; and that the rhythm and melody of a composition should carefully follow the manner and speaking voice of someone possessed by a certain affection. Harmony and accompaniment of the voice were used to mirror emotion (Palisca, 1980: Vol. 7, 97). This fusion of rhythm, melody, harmony and accompaniment into an expressive whole continued to be considered of relevance to composers of musical drama in the late eighteenth century. Jean-Benjamin de La Borde (1734-1794) writes in Essai sur la musique ancienne et moderne:

If Rousseau [Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778)], had been more knowledgeable about harmony, he would have preferred neither melody nor harmony, separately, but would have preferred their union, which creates an inexpressible charm that can be called the ‘melody of harmony’ and that occurs when harmony is not making senseless noise, but is singing or expressing.

Si Rousseau avait eu plus de connoissances qu’il n’en avoit en harmonie, il n’aurait donné la préférence, ni à la mélodie ni à l’harmonie séparées l’une de l’autre, mais certainement à leur union, de laquelle il résulte un charme inexprimable, que l’on peut appaller la ‘mélodie de l’harmonie’, et qui a lieu lorsque l’harmonie ne fait pas un vain bruit, mais lorsqu’elle chante ou qu’elle exprime (La Borde, 1780: Vol. 2, 14).

While early seventeenth-century theorists believed they had recreated a lost ancient art- form and its associated ‘magical power’ to move the emotions, in the very different context of the eighteenth century theorists tended to view opera as a type of ‘primordial calling’; therefore in both instances opera was associated with the origins of humanity and human expression (Thomas, 2002: 3). Ideals of rationalism and heroic deeds were introduced into the genre of dramma per musica, bringing about change to the musical tradition as the eighteenth century progressed. The influence of all forms of drama stimulated the music of the period to become more rhetorical, and ‘imitative’ of nature as never before (Strohm, 1997: 272).

Composers and poets often allude to the idea of ‘expression’. The definitions of expression in the celebrated Encyclopédie ou Dictionnaire raisonné des sciences, des arts et des métiers of man of letters, Denis Diderot (1713-1784) and philosopher Jean le Rond d’Alembert, confirm how all art forms were seen as capable of combining to form an expressive union.

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The entry in the Encyclopédie by French playwright, Louis de Cahusac (1706-1759) views expression from an overarching aesthetic perspective:

But from their arrangement, from art, the words that are employed in poetry receive a warmth, a life that they do not have in ordinary speech; and this warmth, this life, must acquire a melody, with the help of a second art that merges with the first, a new force. This is what is called Expression in music. In good vocal music, one should therefore find Expression that the words have in their own right, the Expression that they are given by the poetry, the Expression that they must receive from music and a final Expression that should unite all the others and that is given to them by the singer who performs them.

Mais les paroles que la Poésie employe, reçoivent de l’arrangement, de l’art, une chaleur, une vie qu’elles n’ont pas dans le langage ordinaire; et cette chaleur, cette vie doivent acquérir un chant, par le secours d’un second art qui s’unit au premier, une nouvelle force; et c’est-là qu’on nomme expression en musique. On doit donc trouver dans la bonne Musique vocale, l’expression que les paroles ont par elle- mêmes; celle qui leur est donnée par la poésie; celle qu’il faut qu’elles reçoivent de la musique; et une derniere qui doit réunir les trios autres, et qui leur est donnée par le chanteur qui les exécute (Cahusac quoted in Diderot, 1751: Vol. 1, 1337).

Together with the ever-present preoccupation with expression, the mid-eighteenth century saw new concerns with Empfindsamkeit (sensibility) come to the fore (Thomas, 2002: 5). Debates on operatic genres gradually turned to their potential impact on the listener- spectator (Thomas, 2002: 180). Musical drama was seen at this time as close to reclaiming the effects attributed to the music of the ancients (Thomas, 2002: 191). The tendency towards heroic-historic subjects (as opposed to mythological ones) helped to make characters appear more human, more ‘psychologically’ motivated, even more sentimental. The spectator was now encouraged to identify with the heroes in their humanity: of the two traditional purposes of tragedy – to arouse fear and pity – the eighteenth century greatly privileged the latter (Strohm, 1997: 18). In this respect, poets of the era believed that the Greek models of tragedy could even be surpassed. Speaking of his own early works, Metastasio writes in a letter to Gluck’s principal Italian-language librettist, Raniero de Calzabigi (1714-1795):

I should have wished that none of my early productions, might have appeared in the Paris edition [of his complete works], particularly the Tragedy of Giustino, written at fourteen years of age; when the authority of my illustrious master [jurist, Giovanni 33

Vincenzo Gravina (1664-1718)] did not suffer me to move a step from the most religious imitation of the Greeks; ... (Metastasio quoted in Burney, 1796: Vol. 1, 25).

Avrei desiderato, che non si trovassero nella Parigina ristampa alcuni miei poetici componimenti, che troppo si risentono della mia adolescenza; ma particolarmente la Tragedia del Giustino da me scritta in età di 14 anni, quando l’autorità del mio illustre Maestro non permetteva ancora all’ingegno mio, ch’un passo mi dilungassi dalla religiosa imitazione de’Greci; ... (Metastasio, 1786: Vol. 2, 25-26).

Dr Burney elevates Metastasio’s poetry above that of the ancients, saying it was able to: ‘... free itself from the trammels of Grecian rules and servile imitation. But through his dramas he has more pathos, poetry, nature, and facility, than we are now able to find in the ancient Greek tragedians, ... ‘ (Burney, 1796: 28).

Poetry, drama and oratory gave music important clues for framing expressive values. Parallels between linguistic and musical manifestations of rhetoric were extensively studied as part of a musician’s training during the eighteenth century. Musicians acknowledged their debt to language and borrowed concepts from rhetoric to designate various aspects of musical training (Ratner, 1980: 31). The analogy between language, forms of music and those of rhetoric became closer with the development of new expressive ideals of music as the eighteenth century progressed (Tarling, 2005: 1). The English music historian Sir John Hawkins (1719-1789) expressed a widespread view in his comparison of music and rhetoric, which was included in his General History of the Science and Practice of Music:

The art of invention is made one of the heads among the precepts of rhetoric, to which music in this and sundry instances bears a near resemblance; the end of persuasion, or affecting the passions, being common to both. This faculty consists in the enumeration of common places, which are revolved over in the mind, and requires both an ample store of knowledge in the subject upon which it is exercised, and a power of applying that knowledge as occasion may require (Hawkins, 1776: xxx-xxxi).

English composer and theorist Charles Avison (1706-1770), who lived and worked almost his entire life in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, writes of the connection he saw between music and literature in his influential Essay on Musical Expression (1752). His studies with Italian 34

violinist, composer and theorist Francesco Geminiani (1687-1762) were an important influence on Avison. Both Dr Burney and Dr William Hayes (1708-1777) wrote that this period of study took place in London (Stephens, ‘Avison, Charles.’ Grove Music Online). Referring to the parallel often expressed between syntactic units and musical phrases, he explains: ‘Passages in music, are also like sentences and paragraphs in writing’ (Avison, 1775 edn: v). Avison goes on to write about the effect music has on the human soul:

If we view this art in its foundations we shall find, that by the constitution of man it is of mighty efficacy in working both on his imagination and passions. ... The capacity of receiving pleasure from these musical sounds, is, in fact, a peculiar and internal sense; but of a much more refined nature than the external senses; ... It is their peculiar and essential property, to divest the soul of every unquiet passion, to pour in upon the mind a silent and serene joy, beyond the power of words to express, and to fix the heart in a rational, benevolent, and happy tranquillity (Avison, 1775 edn: 2- 3).

Musical expression was derived from rhetoric, in a concept of musical-rhetorical thought which developed into a specific means of representing and arousing the ‘affections’ or emotions (Bartel, 1997: x). The comparisons between oratory, performance and composition applied irrespective of differences in national musical style (Tarling, 2005: i). The comments of French composer and theorist, Bernard Germain de la Ville-sur-Illon, Comte de Lacépède (1756-1825) in the treatise, La Poétique de la Musique, tend towards a ‘universal theory’ of music, rather than the specific phrasing of sentences, as put forward by Avison:

[Music] does not depend upon the nature of languages, and it should be considered the same for all peoples, despite the [linguistic] differences that must reign in their simple recitations. In like manner, there is only one eloquence for all nations, although the language of each may require different constructions and turns of phrase. ... These sounds are always the same whenever a given passion is involved and a passion is felt to the same extent; all of this is independent of the language. ... But if they feel the same degree of ardour and sentiment, they will raise or lower their voices in the same way, and the differences, if any, between their ways of declaiming, will be imperceptible and will be only minimally related to the prosody of their language.

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[La musique] ne dépend pas de la nature des langues; et on doit la regarder comme la même pour tous les peuples, malgré la différence qui doit régner dans leur récitatifs simples; de même qu’il n’y a qu’une éloquence pour toutes les nations, quoique la langue de chacune puisse demander des constructions et des tournures différentes. ... Ces sons sont toujours les mêmes, toutes les fois qu’il s’agit de la même passion et d’une passion ressentie au même degré; tout ceci est indépendant de la langue. ... mais s’ils peuvent éprouver le même degré de feu et de sentiment, ils élèveront ou abaisseront également la voix, ou du moins la différence, entre leurs manières de déclamer, sera insensible, et elle ne tiendra qu’à une très-petite partie de la prosodie de leur langue. (Lacépède, 1785: 47, 52-54).

Despite this universalist approach to the application of rhetoric to music, each nation did have its own contrasting philosophies regarding these principles. The Italians, for instance, favoured a direct affective and aesthetic effect, which led to a form of musical expression that focused on an aesthetic principle of expressing and stirring the affections rather than solely explaining the text. This Italian approach is reflected in Avison’s Essay, through his studies with Geminiani. Expressive musical devices developed with an aesthetic rather than an exegetic principle in mind. In this way, it has been traditionally felt that the Italians sought to speak directly and immediately to the listener-spectator’s senses (Bartel, 1997: 59). The Italian composers thereby placed their emphasis on the effect of music. This approach, which continued to be observed by eighteenth-century composers and musicians, was inherited from the principles developed by the founders of musical drama at the Florence Camerata. Vincenzo Galilei recommended that composers observe human behaviour, so they could empirically acquire the methods for the musical portrayal of the affections. In Dialogo, Galilei urges musicians to attend performances of tragedies and comedies to observe how the audience interacts with each other, by the register of their voices, or in the rapidity or slowness of their speech. Galilei says that in this way composers can see what is fitting for the expression of emotion (Galilei quoted in Bartel, 1997: 59). The Mozart family put this principle into practice. Family letters reveal that the Mozarts attended theatrical performances on a regular basis. Writing to his son on 30 September 1777, who was then in Munich, Leopold provides commentary on the rehearsals, in Salzburg, of the play Zaïre (1732) by French author François Marie Arouet de Voltaire (1694- 1778):

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There was a rehearsal in the theatre this morning. Haydn [ (1737- 1806)] had to provide entr’acte for Zaïre. ... the rehearsal started at ten and they were not finished until half past eleven. Of course the Turkish music was included and a march too. ... The music is supposed to suit the action very well and to be very fine. Although it was entirely for stringed and wind-instruments, the court harpsichord had to be brought over and Haydn played on it. ... People say that it is to be performed very often, so I shall be able to hear the music whenever I like. I have seen the dress rehearsal (L. Mozart trans. Anderson, 1985 edn: 286-287).

Heut frühe war Prob im Theater, Haydn muste zur Zayre Zwischen Musiken unter die Ackt machen. ... nach 10 uhr fiengen sie an und gegen halbe 12 uhr wurden sie erst fertig; natürlicherweise war immer die türkische Musik darunter, dann auch ein Marche. ... die Musik soll sehr zur Action passen u gut seÿn. Obwohl es nun nichts Instrumentalmusik war, so mußte der Hofflügl hinüber gebracht werden, den Haydn spielte. ... Man sagt, es soll öfter aufgeführt werden, dan kan ich die Musik hören, wens mich freuet, die Hauptprobe habe ich gesehen (Briefe und Aufzeichnungen zu W.A. Mozart und seiner Familie aus den Beständen der Stiftung Mozarteum Salzburg, n.d).

Just over three years later, Wolfgang writes to his father on 29 November 1780 of the similarities he saw between the appearance of the voice of in Idomeneo and that of the Ghost in Hamlet:

Tell me, don’t you think that the speech of the subterranean voice is too long? Consider it carefully. Picture to yourself the theatre, and remember that the voice must be terrifying – must penetrate – that the audience must believe that it really exists. Well, how can this effect be produced if the speech is too long, for in this case the listeners will become more and more convinced that it means nothing. If the speech of the Ghost in Hamlet were not so long, it would be far more effective. It is quite easy to shorten the speech of the subterranean voice and it will gain thereby more than it will lose (Mozart trans. Anderson, 1985 edn: 674).

Sagen sie mir, finden Sie nicht, daß die Rede von der unterirdischen Stimme zu lang ist? Ueberlegen Sie es richt. – Stellen Sie sich das Theater vor, die Stimme muss schreckbar seyn – sie muss eindringen – man muss glauben, es sey wirklich so – wie kann sie das bewirken, wenn die Rede zu lang ist, durch welche Länge die Zuhörer immer mehr von dessen Nichtigkeit überzeugt werden? – Wäre im Hamlet die Rede des Geistes nicht so lang, sie würde noch von besserer Wirkung seyn. – Diese Rede hier ist auch ganz leicht abzukürzen, sie gewinnt mehr dadurch, als sie verliert (Briefe und Aufzeichnungen zu W.A. Mozart und seiner Familie aus den Beständen der Stiftung Mozarteum Salzburg, n.d).

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A ‘natural’ affective-directed speech became the compositional model and German theorists, such as Mattheson and Forkel, insisted that musical truth lay primarily in this idea of natural delivery; they nonetheless recommended a rhetorically structured approach to musical composition (Bartel, 1997: 60). For example, Mattheson says in Capellmeister that musical figures are so closely related to their rhetorical counterparts as ‘having such a natural position in the melody, that it almost appears as though the Greek orators derived their figures from the musical discipline./... haben solche natürliche Stellen in der Melodie, daß es fast scheinet, als hätten die griechischen Redener sothane Figuren aus der Ton-Kunst entlehnet’ (Mattheson, 1739: 243). Forkel’s writings emphasise ‘that the expression and portrayal of our own sentiments must be the primary purpose of all compositions/Daß Ausdruck und Schilderung unserer Empfindungen ein Hauptzweck aller Tonstücke seyn müssen, wird von niemand leicht bezweifelt’ (Forkel, 1788: 49), while he continually returns to the idea that the ‘individualisation of common sentiments/individualisirung allgemeiner Empfindungen’ remains at the core of a musical composition (Forkel, 1788: 50-51).

Much of the eighteenth-century German perspective on rhetoric can be attributed to the writings of the literary critic Johann Gottsched (1700-1766), who sought to reform German language, literature and theatre along national lines by establishing an organisation similar to the French academies. Gottsched’s aim was to develop a philosophical concept of the arts, based on the imitation of nature and the ‘tasteful’ application of rhetoric. Gottsched’s ideas, in this respect, are directly derived from French classical doctrine, in which considerable emphasis is placed on the imitation of various emotional states. His proposed reforms could be seen as the pinnacle of German thinking on rhetoric in music and the literary arts (Buelow, 1980: 575).

The article Ausdruk in der Musik (Expression in Music) by German theorist and composer Johann Philipp Kirnberger (1721-1783), in the Allgemeine Theorie der schönen Künste of Swiss aesthetician Johann Georg Sulzer (1720-1779), explains that the function of a musical composition is to express sentiment and the passions accurately. He warns against the over- repetition of musical ideas, as being unnatural, and asserts that the overall affect of a vocal composition must be delivered as though it were a speech. Here, Sulzer alludes to rhetorical delivery: ‘Expression is the soul of music. Without it, music is but an entertaining diversion. 38

But with it, music becomes the most expressive speech overpowering the heart./Der Ausdruk is die Seele der Musik: ohne ihn ist sie blos ein angenehmes Spielwert; durch ihn wird sie zur nachdrüklichsten Rede; die unwiderstehlich auf under Herz würket’ (Sulzer, 1771: Vol. 1, 109). Kirnberger’s article goes on to explain that every composition, whether it be instrumental or vocal, should convey a definite character and be able to arouse specific emotions in the listener’s mind. When setting text, Kirnberger says a composer must contemplate the character and spirit of the words, including the mood in the way the text would be delivered as a speech (Christensen & Kovaleff- Baker eds, 1995: 53).

Theorist Heinrich Christoph Koch (1749-1816) takes Sulzer’s ideas on musical expression a step further in Versuch einer Anleitung zur Composition, saying that when music and poetry are combined, the emotions being conveyed are more clearly defined:

The pleasure produced by music in combination with poetry is no longer a feeling existing without reference, without reason and purpose; no! we now know the source whence it flows, we perceive, as it were, the object of our pleasure in all its charm, we see every terrible characteristic of the evil which appears to threaten us. Poetry inspires feelings through ideas and images, and, with the feeling which they awaken, music penetrates directly to the heart. Thus both arts united bring about a high degree of feeling and the subsequent pleasure which neither of these arts could arouse alone.

Das Vergnügen welches die Tonkunst in Vereinigung mit der Poesie bewürft, ist nun nicht mehr eine, ohne Beziehung, ohne Ursache und Endzweck vorhandne Empfindung; nein! Wir kennen nun die Quelle aus welcher es fließt, wir erblicken gleischam das Gut, dessen Genuß uns vergnügt, in seinem ganzen Reize, wir sehen alles surchtbare Züge des Uebels, welches uns zu drohen scheint. Die Dichtkunst erregt die Empfindungen durch Begriffe und Bilder, und die Tonkunst dringt zugleich mit der Empfindung, welche diese Begriffe und Bilder erwecken, unmittelbar ans Herz, und beide Künste bewürken nun zusammen vereint denjenigen hohen Grad der Empfindung und des daraus entstehenden Vergnügens, welchen eine dieser Künste für sich allein hervor zu bringen nicht fähig war (Koch, 1787: Vol. 2, 31-32).

In France, it was the theatre and acting that provided inspiration for French composers, and from the seventeenth century onwards, French composers looked to actors for rhetorical inspiration. Sung declamation at this time was patterned on theatrical declamation, in strict rules governing versification that were instituted in the mid-seventeenth century by the

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Académie Royale des Inscriptions. These rules, in which the musical art was described as striving to imitate ‘natural’ speech, continued to be observed until the French Revolution(Ranum, 2001: xv). Rameau, for instance, faithfully observed the established principles of vocal rhetoric in his recitatives and in the vocal lines of his operatic arias (Ranum, 2001: xxii). Rameau says in his Traité de l’harmonie (1722) that a good musician must portray a range of characters, just like a skilful , and the shape of his melody, harmony, modulations should match the declamation of the text he is setting (Bartel, 1997: 60-61).

Mozart’s musical influences

A synthesis of these different national approaches to rhetoric in music can be seen in Mozart’s drammi per musica, especially in Idomeneo. The German idea of applying rhetorical figures, as discussed in a number of musical treatises during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, was employed by Mozart in this dramma per musica (see Chapter II). The rhetorical structure or dispositio of many of the arias in Idomeneo follows the contemporaneous trends in Italian opera of the period (see Chapter III), while the French influence is evident in the greater narrative role given to the chorus, for example. While we may assume that Mozart was acquainted with treatises from each of the major European nations (see above), he no doubt absorbed these differing aesthetic viewpoints from the numerous musical establishments and opera houses he visited during his travels around the continent. It is most likely that Mozart would have heard one of the first performances of Gluck’s Orfeo ed Euridice (1762) and Alceste (1767), as the Mozart family were visiting Vienna at both times. Many of the principles outlined in the preface to the first edition of Alceste (1769) can be equally applied to Idomeneo: ‘I have felt ... that the concerted instruments should be introduced in proportion to the interest and the intensity of the words, and not leave that sharp contrast between the aria and recitative in the dialogue, so as not to break a period unreasonably nor wantonly disturb the force and heat of the action./Ho imaginato ... che il concerto degl’Instrumenti abbia a regolarsi a proporzione dell’interesse, e della passione, e non lasciare quel tagliente divario nel dialogo fra l’aria, e il recitativo, che non tronchi a contrasenso il periodo, ne interrompa mal’a proposito la forza, e

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il caldo dell’azione’ (Calzabigi and Gluck quoted in Brown, ‘Gluck, Christoph Willibald Ritter von.’ Grove Music Online).

The ‘smoothing’ of the transition between recitative and aria, which Gluck promoted, is particularly striking in Idomeneo. Mozart often calls on the interrupted cadence to disrupt the conclusion of recitatives to make way for a modulation which leads to the main tonality of the following aria (see ex. 1.1), as in the following example, the recitative and aria of Ilia, which opens Idomeneo. The inclusion of the final word of the recitative at the beginning of this aria is also indicative of this softening of the transition between recitative and aria.

Ex. 1.1. Idomeneo, rè di Creta. K.366. Act 1, Scene 1. Recitative and aria of Ilia. Bars 1-9.

One of the composers who most influenced Mozart’s musical style, especially in his drammi per musica, was Josef Mysliveček (1737-1781), known as Il Boemo. Leopold and Wolfgang first met Mysliveček during their first tour of Italy in 1770. The Mozarts and Mysliveček soon became friends, and Mysliveček’s activities and personality are mentioned in twenty-eight surviving letters of the Mozart family between 1770 and 1778 (Freeman, 2009: 51). When

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Mozart visited Mysliveček in a Munich hospital in late 1777, he wrote to Leopold on 11 October that ‘If it were not for his face [Mysliveček was disfigured], he would be the same old Mysliwecek (sic), full of fire, spirit and life, a little thin, of course, but otherwise the same excellent, cheerful fellow (Mozart trans. Anderson, 1985 edn: 305)./wenn sein gesicht nicht wäre, so wäre er völlig der nämliche; voll feüer, geist und leben. Ein wenig mager, natürlich; aber sonst der nämliche gute und aufgeweckte Mensch (Briefe und Aufzeichnungen zu W.A. Mozart und seiner Familie aus den Beständen der Stiftung Mozarteum Salzburg, n.d). Mozart felt that these qualities of Mysliveček’s personality should be reflected in performances of his compositions. Again writing to his father on 13 November 1777 from Mannheim, Mozart comments on how he would like to see his sister, Nannerl perform Mysliveček’s keyboard sonatas: ‘They are quite easy and pleasing to the ear. I should advise my sister, ... to play them with plenty of expression, taste and fire, ... For they are sonatas which are bound to please everyone, ... (Mozart trans. Anderson, 1985 edn: 371)./sie sind ganz leicht und gut ins gehör. Mein rath wäre, meine schwester, ... sole sie mit vieller expression, gusto und feüer spiellen, ... den das sind Sonaten welchen allen leüten gefallen müssen, ... (Briefe und Aufzeichnungen zu W.A. Mozart und seiner Familie aus den Beständen der Stiftung Mozarteum Salzburg, n.d).

The influence of Mysliveček’s compositional style soon became apparent in Mozart’s works. Recent research has brought to light the extent to which Mysliveček’s dramma per musica, La Nitetti (1770), set to a text by Metastasio, served as a model for parts of Mozart’s own Mitridate (Freeman, 2009: 54). The influence of Mysliveček’s compositions on Mozart’s musical style was even acknowledged during the eighteenth century, with several surviving manuscript copies of Mysliveček’s oratorio, Isacco figura del redentore (1776) being attributed to Mozart (Freeman, 2009: 177).

The admiration Mozart felt for Mysliveček’s works is evident in a letter sent from Munich to his father, Leopold on 11 October 1777: ‘All Munich is talking about his [Mysliveček’s] oratorio Abramo ed Isacco, which he produced here. ... When I wrote that letter to him yesterday, I sent him the serenata which I composed in Salzburg for Archduke Maximilian [Il rè pastore]; and [Heller] gave it to him with the letter (Mozart trans. Anderson, 1985 edn: 305)./ganz München redet von seinem oratorio, Abramo ed Isaco, so er hier producirt hat ... 42

als ich ihm den brief schrieb, meine serenada von Salzburg für den Erzherzog Maximilian geschickt, er gab sie ihm also mit’ (Briefe und Aufzeichnungen zu W.A. Mozart und seiner Familie aus den Beständen der Stiftung Mozarteum Salzburg, n.d).

It was during this extended residence in Munich, and also especially during his time in Mannheim, that Mozart’s interest in German-language opera was awakened after hearing Günter von Schwarzburg (1777) by Ignaz Holzbauer (1711-1783). He was also impressed by the melodramas Ariadne auf Naxos (1775) and Medea (1775), composed by Georg Anton Benda (1722-1795). Mozart wrote of his impressions of these works in the extensive correspondence he kept with his father during this period. On 14 November 1777, Wolfgang writes of Günter to his father: ‘Holzbauer’s music is very beautiful. The poetry doesn’t deserve such music. What surprises me most of all is that a man as old as Holzbauer should still posses so much spirit; for you can’t imagine what fire there is in that music (Mozart trans. Anderson, 1985 edn: 374)./die Musick von Holzbauer ist sehr schön. Die Poesie ist nicht werth einer solchen Musick. Am meisten wundert mich, daß ein so alter Man, wie Holzbauer, noch so viell geist hat; denn das ich nicht zu glauben was in der Musick für feuer ist’ (Briefe und Aufzeichnungen zu W.A. Mozart und seiner Familie aus den Beständen der Stiftung Mozarteum Salzburg, n.d). Speaking of his admiration for Benda’s compositions, Wolfgang writes on 12 November 1778: ‘The piece I saw was Benda’s Medea. He has composed another one [melodrama], Ariadne auf Naxos, and both are really excellent. You know that of all the Lutheran Kapellmeisters Benda has always been my favourite, and I like those two works of his so much that I carry them about with me (Mozart trans. Anderson, 1985 edn: 631)./was ich gesehen war Medea von Benda – er hat noch eine gemacht, Ariadne auf Naxos, beÿde wahrhaft – fürtreflich; sie wissen, das Benda unter den lutherischen kapellmeistern imer mein liebling war; ich liebe diese zweÿ wercke so, daß ich sie beÿ mir führe; ... ‘ (Briefe und Aufzeichnungen zu W.A. Mozart und seiner Familie aus den Beständen der Stiftung Mozarteum Salzburg, n.d).

The influence of Holzbauer’s and Benda’s works on Mozart’s future operatic compositions is immense. As Holzbauer’s Günter von Schwarzburg was composed for the much-famed Mannheim Orchestra, this had a profound effect on Mozart’s approach to orchestration, when he came to compose Idomeneo. Mozart’s admiration of the Mannheim Orchestra is 43

recorded in this letter to his father of 4 November 1777: ‘The orchestra is excellent and very strong. ... They can produce fine music ... (Mozart trans. Anderson, 1985 edn: 355-356)/das orchestre ist sehr gut und starck. ... es läst sich eine schöne Musick machen, ... ‘ (Briefe und Aufzeichnungen zu W.A. Mozart und seiner Familie aus den Beständen der Stiftung Mozarteum Salzburg, n.d).

The superlative quality of Mannheim’s orchestra fostered the compositional approach of the era. In current times, Mannheimer manieren (Mannheim style) is generally thought to have originated predominantly in the instrumental works by composers active in the city between 1740 and 1778. This style of composition was principally founded in Italian opera of the early Classical period, which formed the core of the operatic repertoire in Mannheim. The crescendi in the symphonies of Johann Stamitz (1717-1757) are comparable to those in the overtures to Niccolò Jommelli’s operas (Wolf, ‘Mannheim style.’ Grove Music Online).

Jommelli exercised an immense influence on the musical art form during the latter half of the eighteenth-century. Jommelli’s fifteen-year reign at the court of Karl Eugen, Duke of Württemberg (1728-1793) had set the tone for dramma per musica of the highest quality. (Longyear, 1964: 128) Mozart also expressed his admiration for Jommelli’s compositions. Writing to his sister on 29 May 1770, regarding Jommelli’s opera (1770): ‘The day before yesterday we were at the rehearsal of Signor Jommelli’s opera, which is well composed and which I really like (Mozart trans. Anderson, 1985 edn: 141)./Hieri l’altro fùmo nella prova dell’opera del sig: Jomela, la quale è una opera, che è ben scritta, e che mi piace veramente; ... ‘ (Briefe und Aufzeichnungen zu W.A. Mozart und seiner Familie aus den Beständen der Stiftung Mozarteum Salzburg, n.d).

All the characteristics of Mannheim style can be seen in both Jommelli’s and Mozart’s operatic works. These characteristics include a primarily homophonic texture, a slow harmonic rhythm; a thematic differentiation within expositions, particularly in movements with faster tempi; and solo passages for wind instruments and horns, which reveal the influence of French composers of the time, such as Rameau (Wolf, ‘Mannheim style.’ Grove Music Online).

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Another composer Mozart admired both professionally and personally was Johann Christian Bach (1735-1782), whom Mozart first met in London when he was nine years old. The two composers remained lifelong friends. Writing to his father from Mannheim on 28 February 1778, he says of Bach’s work: ‘For practice I have also set to music the aria ‘Non so d’onde viene’, etc which has been so beautifully composed by Bach. I know Bach’s setting so well and like it so much, ... (Mozart trans. Anderson, 1985 edn: 497)./ich habe auch zu einer übung, die aria, non sò d’onde viene etc: die so schön vom Bach componirt ist, gemacht, aus der ursach, weil ich die vom Bach so gut kene, ... ‘(Briefe und Aufzeichnungen zu W.A. Mozart und seiner Familie aus den Beständen der Stiftung Mozarteum Salzburg, n.d).

Many of the musical elements in J.C. Bach’s last opera for London, La clemenza di Scipione (1778), are reflected in Mozart’s Idomeneo. The link between the sinfonia and first scene of Act I represents an attempt to provide a kind of musical and dramatic unity to the work. The action of the plot is simplified and the chorus has a dramatic function. The use of flute, oboe, violin and cello obbligato instruments in Arsinda’s scena from Act II foreshadows Konstanze’s aria ‘Martern aller Arten’ from Die Entführung aus dem Serail K.384 (1782) (Wolff, 1980: Vol. 1, 870).

It has been maintained by many commentators, including the conductor Nikolaus Harnoncourt, that Mozart was not an innovator in his art. Everything that is nowadays recognised as typically ‘Mozartian’ can be also found in the works of his contemporaries. Using the musical and rhetorical language of his time, Mozart found the resources he needed to express everything he wanted to convey to his audience (Harnoncourt, 1989: 84).

Mozart’s views on expression

In one of his few surviving letters to (c1760-1839) of 30 July 1778, Mozart writes specifically on the subject of musical expression. In this letter, Mozart offers his advice on how the Scena d’Andromeda K.272 should be performed to portray Andromeda’s emotions appropriately: ‘I advise you to watch the expression marks – to think carefully of the meaning and the force of the words – to put yourself in all seriousness into Andromeda’s situation and position! – and to imagine that you are that very person (Mozart trans. Anderson, 1985 edn: 581)./al più le raccomando l’espressione – di rifletter bene al 45

senso ed alla forza delle parole – di mettersi con serietà nello stato e nella situazione d’Andromeda! – e di figurarsi d’esser quella stessa persona; ... ’(Briefe und Aufzeichnungen zu W.A. Mozart und seiner Familie aus den Beständen der Stiftung Mozarteum Salzburg, n.d). Mozart continues, praising Aloysia on her interpretation of the aria, Non so d’onde viene K.294, which he had composed for her earlier that year: ‘ ... I found nothing to criticise or correct – you sang it to me with the interpretation, with the method and the expression which I desired (Mozart trans. Anderson, 1985 edn: 582)./non hò trovato niente à criticare o à corregere – lei me l’hà cantata con quel gusto, con quel methodo, e con quella espressione che hò desiderato’(Briefe und Aufzeichnungen zu W.A. Mozart und seiner Familie aus den Beständen der Stiftung Mozarteum Salzburg, n.d). What Mozart could be commenting on here is a rare case in one of his vocal works – the use of dynamic expression markings for the vocal line. What is even more extraordinary is that these markings are written for a melismatic passage (see exs. 1.2 and 1.3).

Ex. 1.2. Concert aria ‘Non so d’onde viene’. K. 294. Bars 57-61.

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Ex. 1.3. Concert aria ‘Non so d’onde viene’. K. 294. Bars 67-71.

We may assume that during this period singers were generally guided by the text in their expressive delivery of a musical composition.

Thus, expression was the principle of rhetoric which the eighteenth-century musician-orator employed to move the emotions of the listener. Figures of speech were used to persuade listeners of the merits of the argument. Composers were urged to study the character of all the passions, which could be musically conveyed through voice, register, tempo and rhetorical processes. Christian Friedrich Daniel Schubart (1739-1791) puts it succinctly in his treatise Ideen zu einer Aesthetik der Tonkunst (1806), when he says: ‘Musical expression is like the golden axis around which revolves the aesthetics of music./ Der musikalische Ausdruck ist gleichsam die goldene Achse, um weiche sich die Aesthetik der Tonkunst dreht’ (Schubart, 1839 edn: 376).

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Chapter II

Figures of rhetoric

It has been argued by Dietrich Bartel, Nikolaus Harnoncourt, and others, that until the first quarter of the nineteenth century, rhetoric and poetry were regarded as the ‘sister disciplines’ of music. The title of Harnoncourt’s book Baroque Music Today: Music As Speech (1988) expresses the essence of this idea, in which music was regarded as a language. Rousseau, one of the most influential writers of the mid eighteenth century, asserts in Essai sur l’origine des langues that music and language share a common origin, of which the language of music expresses inarticulate, but vivid, ardent and passionate sentiments, as well as expressing more energy than speech could alone (Beghin and Goldberg eds, 2007: 113).

Throughout the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, rhetorical principles greatly influenced musical composition. Many treatises on the subject were published during these two centuries, from Joachim Burmeister’s Musica autoschediastikē (1601) to Heinrich Christoph Koch’s Musikalisches Lexikon (1802). The concept of the musical-rhetorical figure – the musical adaptation of rhetorical figures of speech - grew out of the desire to identify and define expressive musical devices with rhetorical terminology. These rhetorical devices were seen as an integral part of compositional theory and practice (Bartel, 1997: ix-x). This view is now widely accepted in the study and interpretation of musical composition and performance up until the early eighteenth century, but has been rarely articulated in regard to the genre of dramma per musica of the latter part of the century (see Introduction).

The transformation of rhetorical concepts into musical equivalents originates in the decoratio of rhetorical theory, in which the speaker decorated or elaborated on a particular idea. Orators relied on their command of the techniques of decoratio to embellish their ideas with rhetorical imagery and infuse their orations with language that would stir the affections of their listeners. This is the broad concept behind rhetorical figures of speech (Buelow, 1980: 794).

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Figures in a musical composition more appropriately belong to the inventio (invention of determining subject) process of rhetoric as musical ideas already hold contrast and a variety of intervals and rhythms within themselves before they can be developed (decorated) or treated rhetorically. French philosopher and music theorist, Marin Mersenne (1588-1648) distinguishes between the use of figures in speech which can obscure clarity, and their use in music where it is used to enhance forceful expression (Tarling, 2005: 189). This idea of employing rhetorical devices to enhance the expression of emotion in music continued to be discussed in treatises throughout the eighteenth century. The treatises on musical composition by Mattheson, Spiess and Scheibe, with which the Mozart family were acquainted (see Chapter I), include definitions of a variety of rhetorical figures and their analogous representations in music.

The guiding precept of the rhetorical style of speaking is the decoration of a thought or idea, which when repeated is aimed to help impress its effect on the listener. Quintilian defines ‘a figure to mean a form of expression to which a new aspect is given by art/Ergo figura sit arte aliqua novata forma dicendi’ (Quintilian, 1921 edn: Vol. 3, 354, 355). The classical writers encourage the orator to distribute figures at intervals, and not crowd them together as this lessens ‘credibility, impressiveness and seriousness/fides et gravitas et severitas’ and makes the speech ‘childish/puerili’ in style, according to Cicero (Cicero, 1964 edn: 308, 309). He also directs the speaker to select points where figures can make an effect, and not to spread them evenly throughout their whole speech. Therefore, figures became a tool for the orator to raise and soothe the passions (Tarling, 2005: 192).

In the German-language context, the relationship between rhetoric and music became more specified and detailed where music was promoted as a discipline that was comparable to the linguistic arts and composers sought to emulate the rhetorician (Bartel, 1997: 74-75). The concept of rhetorical figures during the eighteenth century rested entirely on their capacity to express the affections. Gottsched writes in his Ausführliche Redekunst: ‘One could even say, they are the language of the passions. Everyone who is possessed by a certain affection will naturally and involuntarily invent figures, for no one can express their affections without figures/Man könnte kürzer sagen, sie wären die Sprache der Leidenschaften: Weil alle Menschen, die im Affecte sind, von Natur, und ohne daran zu 49

denken, Figuren machen; und niemand seinen Affect ohne Figuren recht ausdrücken kan’ (Gottsched, 1736: 273). The growing popularisation of this type of ‘Germanicised’ rhetoric was based on the delivery of natural speech. Consequently rhetorical figures became understood not so much as consciously applied artistic devices, but as intuitive expressions found in natural speech. Such changes and developments correspond to similar developments in the discipline of music (Bartel, 1997: 83).

The second half of the eighteenth century saw an emphasis on ‘natural’ expression, and as a result the categories of rhetorical figures became based on the expression of Empfindung (sentiment). Mattheson distinguishes between figures that applied to melody (cantio) and expressive musical-rhetorical figures that are integrated into a composition (cantus), but he maintains that all are based on the aesthetic of the time – on naturalness and expressivity. With this principle in mind, music and rhetoric shared the common purpose of expressing the affections, as well as highlighting the elements both disciplines shared. As a result, there is an inevitable overlap in the definition of figures. The terminology chosen to identify the musical devices was either adopted from rhetoric, or newly coined to emulate a rhetorical term (Bartel, 1997: 87).

Forkel wished to be seen as the successor to Mattheson. Forkel considered musical- rhetorical concepts to be of continued significance to contemporary composers. On musical figures, he writes in Allgemeine Geschichte:

... [the] transfer of impressions from one sense to another occurs foremost through the Figures. They are therefore expressions which embody the image of an impression according to its corresponding sense. There is no sentiment and no conception which the imagination cannot conceive in a visual form, because all our conceptions are originally nothing but abstractions of concrete, visible objects.

Diese Uebertragung der Eindrücke von einer Kraft auf die andere gescheiht vorzüglich durch die Figuren. Sie sind daher eigentlich solche Ausdrüucke, welche die bildliche Form eines Eindrucks nach der eingenen Natur einer jeden Kraft enthalten, und von einer auf die andere übertragen. Es giebt keine Empfindung und keine Vorstellung, von welcher sich die Einbildungskraft nicht eine bildliche Form vorstellen könnte, weil alle unsere Vorstellungen ursprünglich nichts anders sind, als Abstrakte von körperlichen, sichtbaren Gegenständen (Forkel, 1788: 54).

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The musical-rhetorical figure is therefore both an image and source of an impression or sentiment. A musical-rhetorical figure is not purely an imitation of a rhetorical one, but rather exists as an analogous form of human expression (Bartel, 1997: 161). Forkel continues that rhetorical figures ‘lie at the heart of human nature, and in normal speech would have been the first expressions which the yet uncultivated “natural human” would have used/Die sogenannten Figuren liegen daher tief in der menschlichen Natur, und in der eigentlichen Rede sind sie das erste, was der noch unkultivirte Naturmensch zu brauchen weiß’ (Forkel, 1788: 54), so too it is more likely that ‘certain similar figures would have been the first forms of musical expression, at least at the point of the innovation of musical composition/daß einige derselben auch in der Tonsprache das erste Mittel des Ausdrucks werden gewesen seyn, sobald wenigstens auf irgend eine Art eine gewisse Zusammenstellung der Töne erfunden war’ (Forkel, 1788: 54). In this statement, Forkel makes another link to the ancient world. He devotes a number of chapters in his Allgemeine Geschichte to the origins of music and its inherent link to speech, as well as an historical review of the music of several ancient civilisations from an eighteenth-century perspective.

Throughout the eighteenth century musical-rhetorical figures were defined as ideal methods for setting a text to music, in which they assume an affective purpose of stirring the emotions of the spectator. While these figures were initially associated with a text, they could be transferred to the instrumental accompaniment of vocal works. This is certainly the case in Mozart’s drammi per musica, which followed the German tradition of seeking a synthesis of national musical styles, allowing greater versatility and effectiveness in expressing a text through music (Bartel, 1997: 117, 148).

Quintilian asserts that rhetorical figures fall into two main categories – figures of speech and figures of thought. Quintilian explains in Institutio Oratoria: ‘It is, however, to the best of my knowledge, generally agreed by the majority of authors that there are two classes of figure, namely figures of thought, that is of the mind, feeling or conceptions, since all these terms are used, and figures of speech, that is of words, diction, expression, language or style ... /Inter plurimos enim, quod sciam, consensum est duas eius esse partes, διανοίας, id est mentis vel sensus vel sententiarum, nam his omnibus modis dictum est, λέξεως, id est

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verbum vel dictionis vel elucutionis vel sermonis vel orationis‘ (Quintilian, 1921 edn: Vol. 3, 356, 357).

In music, the categorisation of rhetorical figures is much more subjective. A number of twentieth century scholars have attempted to develop definitive categories for musical figures of rhetoric; for example, George Buelow formulated seven broad categories for the most commonly cited musical-rhetorical figures during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries (Buelow, 1980: Vol. 15, 795). The figures discussed in this chapter will be discussed primarily with reference to the major eighteenth-century German theorists on musical rhetoric, Walther, Mattheson and Forkel, showing the development of ideas as the century progressed (1732, 1739 and 1788, respectively). This discussion is illustrated with examples from Mozart’s drammi per musica, drawing particularly on Idomeneo and Lucio Silla.

Figures of interruption

Abruptio marks a sudden or unexpected break in a musical composition. While this is not a commonly encountered rhetorical figure, Virgil does use the term to denote a breaking off in the middle of a speech. German lexicographer, Johann Gottfried Walther (1684-1748) includes a general definition of the abruptio in his Musicalisches Lexicon, indicating its use both to a text or due to ‘other circumstances’ in instrumental music (Bartel, 1997: 168). He writes: ‘The abruptio or break is a musical figure which commonly occurs at the end of a passage when the composition is suddenly broken or snapped off. This is either demanded by the text or, in instrumental music, other circumstances/Abruptio (lat.) eine Abreissung; ist eine musicalische Figur, da gemeiniglich am Ende eines Periodis die Harmonie plötzlich (wenn es nemlich der Text, oder in Instrumental-Sachen andere Umstände also erfordern) abgebrochen und abgeschnappt wird’ (Walther, 1732: 2).

Abruptio is often used by Mozart in the drammi per musica to enhance the verisimilitude of the dramatic action. Either the conclusion of an aria is interrupted by the entrance of another character; or, in the case of Idamante’s final aria No, la morte from Idomeneo, the aria is broken off so as not to interrupt the dramatic action which follows (see ex. 2.1).

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Ex. 2.1. Idomeneo, rè di Creta. K.366. Act 3, Scene 9. Aria of Idamante. Bars 133-138, 79-81.

Ellipsis or synecdoche can be defined as the omission of an expected harmonic consonance, or the abrupt interruption of a musical composition. Quintilian refers to the ellipsis as the omission of an expression. The first musical reference to the figure dates back to the sixteenth century, when German theorist Eucharius Hoffmann (d.1588) uses the term to describe a transgression of the normal ambitus of a mode (Bartel, 1997: 245-246). In the eighteenth century, Scheibe and Forkel define the ellipsis as a break in the music, after which the composition continues in an unrelated or unexpected manner, thereby

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incorporating interruption, silence and continuation in the one figure (Bartel, 1997: 247). Forkel explains further:

A notable form of expressing a sentiment occurs when its expression is suddenly suspended and broken off after a gradual intensifying growth. This figure is called ellipsis. The art expressed by this device must seek to illuminate the path of the affections for the imagination, as it were. This can be achieved by two methods: first, when a gradually intensifying passage which has grown to great vehemence is unexpectedly interrupted, only to resume anew and proceed with an entirely altered thought. ... Second, it occurs when a likewise gradually intensifying passage progresses to a form of cadence, but, instead of proceeding to the expected cadence based on the preceding harmonies, proceeds to a so called evaded cadence, and thereby breaks the thread of modulations, ... The more intense the sentiment which is to be abruptly interrupted, the more foreign and remote must also be the cadence which replaces the expected one.

Eine auffallende Art von Aeußerung einer Empfindung ist die, wenn sie, nachdem sie nach und nach zu einem hohen Grad von Stärke angewachsen, auf einmal plötzlich stille steht, und abbricht. Diese Figur wird Ellipsis gennant. Die Kunst, die diese Art von Aeußerung ausdrücken will, muß sie daher so in ein Bild zu bringen suchen, daß dadurch der Gang der Leidenschaft für die Einbildungskraft gleischam sichtbar werden kann. Sie kann es auf zweyerley Art bewerkstelligen, nemlich 1) wenn ein nach und nach zu einer großen Lebhaftigkeit angewachsener Satz unvermuthet abbricht, sodann aber mit einem ganz veränderten Gedanken aufs neue wieder anfängt, und weiter fortgeht. ... 2) Wenn ein ebenfalls nach und nach sehr lebhaft gewordener Satz bis zu einer Art von Cadenz fortgeführt wird, anstatt aber diejenige Cadenz zu machen, die sich aus der vorhergehenden Modulation hätte erwarten lassen, ... Je heftiger aber die Empfindung ist, deren Lauf schleunig unterbrochen werden soll, desto fremder und entfernter muß auch die Cadenz seyn, in welche die gewöhnliche verändert wird (Forkel, 1788: 56).

The Act III quartet Andrò ramingo e solo from Idomeneo features an ellipsis of the second type, which Forkel describes above. From a diminished seventh chord, Mozart does not resolve to the tonic as expected, but modulates instead to a dominant seventh chord (see ex. 2.2), then breaks off the tutti before the opening musical statement returns to close the quartet.

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Ex. 2.2. Idomeneo, rè di Creta. K.366. Act 3, Scene 3. Quartet. Bars 152-159.

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Aposiopesis is defined by most theorists as a general pause, affecting all parts of a composition. This figure is usually encountered in compositions where texts deal with death, eternity or nothingness. The expressive use of the pause is often related to loss, downfall or destruction (Bartel, 1997: 203). Spiess’ definition in Tractatus musicus goes one step further: ‘The aposiopesis, suppression, concealment, silence, occurs when either all voices are silenced through a general pause, or when a single voice stops and breaks off when it should actually continue to sing and progress into the appropriate cadence. This second understanding corresponds to the figura abruptio/Aposiopesis, verhalten, verschweigen, stillschweigen ist, wann entweder mittelst einer General-Pausen alle Stimmen zugleich stillhalten: oder auch wann eine einzelne Stimm stillschweiget, und abbricht, da sie doch solte singen, und in gehörige Cadenz gehen. Hat im letzeren Verstand zimliche Gleichheit mit der Figura Abruptio’ (Spiess, 1745: 155).

Spiess’ second definition of the aposiopesis can be seen at the conclusion of the quartet Andrò ramingo e solo from Idomeneo. Idamante’s final statement is not harmonically resolved, thereby reflecting the text: Andrò ramingo e solo/I will go on my wanderings alone (see ex. 2.2).

Interrogatio consists of a musical question presented variously through pauses, a rise at the end of phrases or melody, or imperfect harmony and cadences (see Chapter IV). Scheibe says of the interrogatio: ‘After all, who does not recognise the necessity and charm of the question in all musical compositions/Wer sieht übrigens nicht die Nothwendigkeit und die Schönheit der Frage in allen musikalischen Stücken?’ (Scheibe, 1745: 695) Mattheson discusses the musical question at some length in Capellmeister, pointing to the eighteenth- century intention to develop an understanding of musical composition which parallels the rhetorical discipline (Bartel, 1997: 312-131). Mattheson asserts:

Questions in a musical oration, which are expressed with the familiar (?) in the text, are now to be considered. The questions can be either actual or figurative. Many composers are convinced that a question mark can only be expressed in vocal music through a raising of the voice in one form or other. But this should not be considered infallible. It is true that in common speech the raising of the voice at a question is more or less a given. But there are many circumstances specifically in music which not only allow for exceptions to the rule but often require them. ... Doubt is the true sign of an actual question. Therefore the composer must clearly distinguish between 56

the two forms of the question, and compose his music accordingly ... and to this should be added, that imperfect consonances are most suitable [in expressing a doubting question without raising the voice at the phrase ending], for example, when a question ends with a sixth. It makes little difference whether the sixth is approached from below or above, especially in recitatives.

Die Fragen in der Klang-Rede, so mit dem bekannten Zeichen (?) im Text angedeutet werden, folgen nun in ordentlicher Betrachtung, und sind entweder eigentlich oder verblümt. Viele Setzer stehen steiff in den Gedancken, es müsse das Fragzeichen nothwendig allemahl im Singen, durch eine oder andre Erhöhung der Stimme, ausgedruckt werden; aber man darff solchen Ausspruch keines Weges für unfehlbar halten. Zwar ist in gemeiner Rede und Ausspruch die Erhebung der Stimme iederzeit bey einer Frage mehr oder weniger vermacht; allein in der Melodie gibt es viele Umstände, die hierunter eine Ausnahm nicht nur zulassen, sondern offt erheischen. ... Der Zweifel aber ist das wahre Kennzeichen einer eigentlichen Fragen. Derohalben muß ein melodischer Setzer die eine von der andern billing vol unterscheiden, und danach seine Noten einrichten ... welcher alhie noch beizu-fügen stehet: daß die unvollkommenen Consonantzen am geschicktesten dazu sind, wenn die Frage z.E. in eine Sext schließt: man gerathe nun steigend oder fallend darauf: das macht es nicht allemahl aus, absonderlich im Rezitativ (Mattheson, 1739: 192).

In the following excerpt of recitativo semplice from Il rè pastore, Elisa’s questions are both given upward inflections, and each is set to a different harmonic base. The first musical question is set to the more conventional ‘perfect’ consonance of a fifth, as Mattheson describes it, while the second is set to the ‘imperfect’ consonance of a sixth, or first inversion chord (Bartel, 1997: 315) (see ex. 2.3).

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Ex. 2.3. Il rè pastore. K.208. Act 2, Scene 1. Recitative of Elisa and Agenore. Bars 43-50.

Tmesis or Sectio signifies a sudden interruption or fragmentation of a melodic line through rests, reflecting the literal meaning of the word – cut or incision. While in rhetoric intervening words interrupt a compound word; in music, notes and the syllables of a single word are interrupted by rests. Spiess comments in his Tractatus: ‘The Tmesis, sectio, cutting, occurs whenever and wherever the text or the affection demands, ... /Tmesis, Sectio, Abschnitt, geschicht, wie und wann es der Text oder Affect erfordert, ... ‘ (Spiess, 1745: 156).

Mozart uses the tmesis in Aspasia’s Act I, Scene 7 aria from Mitridate to convey the emotion of the text (see ex. 2.4).

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ASPASIA ASPASIA

Nel sen mi palpita dolente it core; In my breast my heart beats sadly; Mi chiama a piangere il mio dolore; My grief calls me to weep; Non so resistere, non so restar. I cannot weep, I cannot remain.

Ma se di lagrime umido ho il ciglio, But if my eyes are wet with tears, È solo, credimi, il tuo periglio Believe me, it is only you peril which is La cagion barbara del mio penar. The cruel reason for my suffering.

Ex. 2.4. Mitridate, rè di Ponto. K.87. Act 1, Scene 7. Aria of Aspasia. Bars 86-95.

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Figures of imitation or mimesis

Anabasis or ascensus is a musical passage which represents ascending, or exalted images and affections. The ascensus is included in a list of words of ‘motion and place’ that can be musically expressed in the treatise, Musica Poetica by German theorist, Johann Andreas Herbst (1588-1666). The figure is both descriptive and affective, describing the text and arousing the corresponding affection. Like so many musical-rhetorical figures, the anabasis can convey both image and the source of the affection (Bartel, 1997: 179).

Walther defines the anabasis in his Lexicon: ‘Anabasis, from anabaino, ascendo, I ascend, is a musical passage through which something ascending into the heights is expressed. For example on the words: He is risen; God has ascended; and similar texts/Anabasis (lat.) von άναβαίνω, ascendo, ich steige in die Höhe; ist ein solcher musicalischer Satz, wodurch etwas in die Höhe steigendes exprimiret wird. Z.E. über die Worte: Er ist auferstanden. Gott fahret auf. u.d.g.’ (Walther, 1732: 34).

In the following example from Lucio Silla, an ascending motif can be seen in the first violin part, culminating in Cecilio’s exclamation: oh Ciel (Oh heaven!) (see ex. 2.5)!

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Ex. 2.5. Lucio Silla. K.135. Act 1, Scene 7. Recitative of Cecilio. Bars 53-57.

Catabasis or descensus is a descending musical passage which expresses lowly, negative images or affections. This musical-rhetorical figure is called upon to do more than simply reflect the text – it simultaneously represents the image and the source of the affection (Bartel, 1997: 214). Walther explains: ‘The catabasis, from katabaino, descendo, is a musical passage through which lowly, insignificant, and disdainful things are represented, for example: “He has descended,””I am greatly humbled,” and similar texts/Catabasis, von καταβαίνω, descendo, ist ein harmonischer Periodus, wodurch etwas niedriges, gering-und verächtliches vorgestellt wird. z.E. Er ist hinunter gefahren. Ich bin sehr gedemüthiget. u.d.g.’ (Walther, 1732: 148).

In Elettra’s final recitativo obbligato from Idomeneo, Mozart uses the figure of catabasis to reflect the text: il germano Oreste ne’cupi abissi io vuo’seguir./let me follow my brother Orestes into the abyss. Mozart employs the catabasis in the vocal line to represent the image in the text, while the descending motif in the orchestral accompaniment is a vivid musical expression of the associated affection (see ex. 2.6). 61

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Ex. 2.6. Idomeneo, rè di Creta. K.366. Act 3, Scene 10. Recitative of Elettra. Bars 34-44.

Dubitatio is an intentionally ambiguous rhetorical figure in either harmony or rhythm. It is one in which the intended passion and the figure itself directly correspond, sharing terminology and content. While the dubitatio has been recognised in oratory since antiquity, it is only mentioned in musical treatises during the eighteenth century. With the increasing interest in natural expression and the associated psychological examination of music’s expressiveness, these expressions of uncertainty and ambiguity became more acceptable in the latter part of the century (Bartel, 1997: 243). Scheibe discusses this in his Critischer Musicus:

The next figure is doubt or dubitatio. It indicates an uncertainty or indecision and is particularly important in music, for it is found in almost all genres of complete compositions. Should the combination and correlation between melody and harmony result in the listeners’ uncertainty regarding the music’s progression and ultimate conclusion, it is an indication of the composer’s adept expression of the dubitatio. ... However, the dubitatio must not confuse the composer’s own arrangement or the proper coherence of his music, thereby creating doubt in his own mind; rather he must only meaningfully lead the listeners astray so that, becoming uncertain regarding the order of the music or the notes, they cannot easily guess his intent.

Die Ilte Figur ist der Zweifel. (Dubitatio.) Sie bemerket eine ungewißheit, sich zu entschließen, und ist in der Musik von besonderer Wichtigkeit, weil sie fast in allen Gattungen vollstädiger Stücke statt findet. Wenn die Verbindung und der Zusammenhang der Melodie und der Harmonie die Zuhörer gleischam ungewiß machen, welchen Fortgang sie nehmen, und in welchen Ton sie zuletzt fallen werden: so ist solches ein Merkmaal, daß der Componist den Zweifel geschickt auszudrücken gewußt hat. ... Der Zweifel muß dem Componisten nicht die Ordnung seiner Gedanken, oder den wohleingerichteten Zusammenhang seiner Sätze verwirren, und ihn also selbst zweifelhaft machen; er muß nur die Zuhörer auf eine sinnreiche Art verführen, damit sie in der Folge der Sätze, oder der Töne ungewiß werden, und seine Meynung nicht leicht errathen können (Scheibe, 1745: 686).

Mozart achieves this musical ‘doubt’ in a recitativo obbligato from Lucio Silla to reflect the text and thoughts of Roman Senator Cecilio’s uncertain frame of mind, as to whether he should approach his wife, Guinia after being presumed dead. His doubting expressions: ‘e 64

che far deggio? ... restar? ... partire? ... /and what should I do? ... stay? ... go? ...’ are represented in the first and second violin parts through Mozart’s use of the four-note figuration known as the groppo, which has a common first and third note (ex. 2.7). Walther defines the groppo in his Lexicon as:

... a form of diminutio used to ornament notes of longer duration, and normally consists of four eighth or sixteenth notes with a common first and third note, the second and fourth having different positions. Should the fourth note ascend, it is called a groppo ascendente. Should it descend, however, it is called a groppo descendente. This diminutio is frequently used on a penultimate note of a cadence in order to end a trillo. See Brossard’s [Sébastien de Brossard] Dictionnaire. Because Brossard does not differentiate between a circulo mezzo [half circle] and a groppo, I believe that the groppo can only be regarded as a ball or roller if the four-note figure is set twice successively.

... ist in der Music eine Diminutions-Gattung grosser und langer Noten, und bestehet ordinairement aus vier Achteln oder Sechzehntheilen, deren erstes und drittes in einerley Tone, das zweyte und vierdte aber in verschiedenen Tonen sich befinden. Steiget die vierdte Note in die Höhe, so ists ein Groppo ascendente; steiget sie aber abwerts, so ists eine Groppo descendente. Diese diminution wird öffters auf der penultima einer Cadenz, um das trillo zu endigen, gebraucht. s. Bross. Diction. Weil nun solcher gestalt diesem Auctori ein Circolo mezzo, p.20. und ein Groppo, p.43. einerley ist; halte ohnmaßgeblich dafür: daß diese letztere Figur alsdenn erst den Nahmen einer Kugel oder Waltze meritiret, wenn vorgemeldte vier Noten zweymahl angebracht werden (Walther, 1732: 292).

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Ex. 2.7. Lucio Silla. K.135. Act 1, Scene 7. Recitative of Cecilio. Bars 48-52.

Hypotyposis has the same task in music as it does in rhetoric - to vividly and realistically represent a thought or image found in the text. This rhetorical figure might even be considered the most important and common text-expressive compositional device of the eighteenth century. Musical word-painting became a hallmark of music of the period and is found in most vocal compositions of the era. Both music and rhetoric use this figure to reflect a thought or image rather than to express a passion; therefore, hypotyposis was regarded more as a principle of composition than as a specific figure during the eighteenth century (Bartel, 1997: 307-308). Gottsched writes: ‘Hypotyposis or descriptio. Through which one provides a detailed description of something, seemingly painting it before the eyes of the listener/Hypotyposis s. descriptio. Darrin man eine ausführliche Abbildung von einer Sache giebt, und sie dem Zuhörer gleichsam vor Augen malet’ (Gottsched, 1736: 283).

The figure of hypotyposis is readily seen in Mozart’s drammi per musica. In Cinna’s aria from Act 3 of Lucio Silla, the text: se Giove irato fulmina,/When angry Jove lets loose his lightning

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is represented by the ascending run and tremolos in the violin and viola parts, then again by the punctuating chordal figuration in the oboe, trumpet and horn parts (see ex. 2.8).

Ex. 2.8. Lucio Silla. K.135. Act 3, Scene 2. Aria of Cinna. Bars 154-161.

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The ascending run is the rhetorical figure known as tirata, and when it spans the compass of an octave it is specifically named a tirata perfecta. This figure belongs to the category that Mattheson names Manieren, or ornamental embellishments that were usually added by the performer. The tirata could also assume both a text-expressive and affective role, particularly when it is used in conjunction with a text which is related to the figure’s name (see above). The tirata is not only an ornamental manier but becomes an expression of hypotyposis. Mattheson asserts: ‘We now come to the tirata, which to a certain degree finds stronger use nowadays ... It actually means a shot or spear throw, not a stroke or line, as most commentators insist, ... ./Nun kommen wir zu Tirata, welche bey itzingen Zeiten auf gewisse Weise einen stärckern Gebrauch hat ... und eigentlich einen schuß oder Pfeilwurff, nicht aber, wie die moisten Ausleger wollen, einen Zug oder Strich bedeutet ... ‘(Mattheson, 1739: 117).

In another example of hypotyposis, Mozart again employs the groppo and the roller in the second violin part (see above for definition) of Costanza’s aria from Il sogno di Scipione to illustrate the opening line of text: Biancheggia in mar lo scoglio/The rock turns white in the sea (see ex. 2.9). The groppo and the roller are used to depict the crashing of waves of a tumultuous sea against a seaside rock.

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Ex. 2.9. Il sogno di Scipione. K.126. Aria of Costanza. Bars 83-86.

Also evident in the melismatic passages is the use of the circulo mezzo (half circle), in which, unlike the groppo, the second and fourth note of the figuration share the same pitch (see ex. 2.10). During the seventeenth and eighteenth century melismas were used only in the imitative manner required by hypotyposis. However, composers were warned not to convey only the words in their vocal compositions. French actor and playwright Jean-Léonor Le Gallois de Grimarest writes in his Traité du Récitatif (Treatise on Recitative):

I think I should warn the composer not to strive, from affectation, to make his music convey the meaning of a word. There is no rule that decrees melismas on words such as coulez [flow], volez [fly], or held notes on words such as éternelle [eternal], repos [respose]. The words alone ... do not express a sentiment, but the expression as a whole does, and these musical diversions alter the passion and are more revealing of the musician than of the witty man.

Je crois devoir averter le Compositeur, de ne point avec afectation à convenir par sa musique à la signification d’un terme. Ce n’est point une regle de mettre des roulades sur ceuxcy, par example, coulez, volez; des tenus les suivantes, éternelle, repos. Les termes seuls ... n’expriment point un sentiment; mais l’expression entiere, et ces

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divertissemens de musique alterent la passion; et désignent plus le Musicien, que l’homme d’esprit (Grimarest, 1760 edn: 128-129).

Ex. 2.10. Il sogno di Scipione. K.126. Aria of Costanza. Bars 44-49. Melisma on mare/sea.

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Figures of repetition

Anadiplosis is defined as a repetition of the ending of one phrase at the beginning of the following phrase. Walther and Mattheson concur that this figure of repetition is equally familiar in music as it is in rhetoric (Bartel, 1997: 181). Walther writes: ‘The anadiplosis, from diplos, duplex, reduplicatio (lat.), occurs when the last word of a passage appears again as the first word of the following passage. For example, sing and glorify/glorify and praise; ... /Die anadiplosis, von διπλώς, duplex, Reduplicatio (lat.) ist: wenn das letzte Wort eines Commatis, wiederum das erste im folgenden Commate abgiebt. Z.E. Singet und rühmet/rühmet und lobet’ (Walther, 1732: 34).

In another example from Lucio Silla, the anadiplosis can be seen in the second quatrain of Silla’s first aria.

SILLA SULLA

Il desio di vendetta e di morte The desire for revenge and death Sì m’infiamma, e sì m’agita il petto, So inflames me and stirs my heart, Che in quest’alma ogni debole affetto That every rejected tender feeling Disprezzato si cangia in furor. Is transformed into rage within my heart.

Forse nel punto estremo Perhaps in the last moment Della fatal partita You will beg me for your life, Mi chiederai la vita, But your tears Ma sarà il pianto inutile, Will be pointless, Inutile il dolor. Pointless will be your grief.

Anaphora is described by rhetoricians as a general repetition. German theorist and pupil of Gottsched, Johann Adolph Scheibe (1708-1776) understands this figure to be a substantial form of musical construction, belonging to the musical dispositio as much as to decoratio. The repetition not only applies to short passages, but is also used to repeat entire sections of a musical composition, providing a musical-rhetorical device and explanation for da capo and dal segno aria repeats and other musical recapitulations (see Chapter III). Scheibe explains this in his Critischer Musicus: ‘ ... the following is also considered among the methods of repetition, namely when the first part of an aria or other composition is repeated after the second part, or when every part is sung or played twice/Sonst wird auch dieses zur Wiederholung gerechnet, wenn man den ersten Theil einer Arie, oder eines andern 71

Stückes, nach dem Schlusse des zweyten Theiles wiederholet, oder auch, wenn man jeden Theil zweymal singt, oder spielet’ (Scheibe, 1745: 689).

Bavarian composer and theorist, Meinard Spiess defines the anaphora as a repetition of the opening phrase or motif in a number of successive passages. In his Tractatus, he writes: ‘The anaphora occurs when a short passage or saying, or even a single word is frequently repeated in a musical composition for greater emphasis/Anaphora ist, wann ein kurtzer Periodus oder Spruch: oder auch ein einziges Wort, absonderlichen Nachdrucks halben, in einer Musicalischen Composition öffters wiederholet wird’ (Spiess, 1745: 155).

The continued repetition of the first word ‘Torna’ (Return) of Annio’s aria Torna di Tito a lato from La clemenza di Tito is an application of Spiess’ definition of this figure (see ex. 2.11-2.13).

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Ex. 2.11. La clemenza di Tito. K.621. Act 2, Scene 1. Aria of Annio. Bars 1-15.

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Ex. 2.12. La clemenza di Tito. K.621. Act 2, Scene 1. Aria of Annio. Bars 31-35.

Ex. 2.13. La clemenza di Tito. K.621. Act 2, Scene 1. Aria of Annio. Bars 48-54.

Auxesis or incrementum is the successive repetition of a musical passage by step, which reflects the literal meaning of the term (growth, increase). Burmeister and Walther are the only theorists to list auxesis as a musical-rhetorical figure. Walther defines the figure in his Lexicon as a continually rising repetition of a musical passage: ‘The auxesis occurs when a passage or a melody is repeated twice or three times, while at the same time, however, always rising higher/Auxesis heisset: wenn ein Modulus, oder eine Melodie zwey-bis dreymahl wiederholt wird, aber dabey immer höher steiget’ (Walther, 1732: 60).

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The auxesis is a feature of the peroratio of Servilia’s aria from La clemenza di Tito with the repetition in the vocal line rising each time by a major second. The effect is amplified by being associated with a crescendo (see ex. 2.14).

Ex. 2.14. La clemenza di Tito. K.621. Act 2, Scene 14. Aria of Servilia. Bars 33-38.

Climax or gradatio is defined during the eighteenth century as a gradual increase or rise in sound and pitch, thereby creating a growth in intensity. Quintilian uses the term to describe a stepwise construction of a speech in which a point is repeated and explained before proceeding to the next one.

A shift in the definition of the rhetorical figure of climax is evident in German writings during the eighteenth century. Gottsched uses the terms climax and auxesis interchangeably, highlighting the emphasis on expression and the incremental growth of intensity.

The treatises of Scheibe and Forkel introduce the dynamic concept of crescendo into their definitions of the figure, applying it on a much larger scale than musicians and rhetoricians

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had previously done. As such, the climax becomes an appropriate description of the walze (steamroller), or the Mannheim crescendo, as it is more commonly known today, which is a feature of many of Mozart’s operatic sinfonias from the drammi per musica and the ‘concert’ sinfonias of the period by Mozart and his contemporaries (Bartel, 1997: 221) (see ex. 2.15). Forkel writes:

One of the most delightful and effective figures is the gradatio (intensification). This is a stepwise progression from weaker passages to stronger ones, thereby expressing an always increasingly powerful affection. The conventional musical expression of this figure employs the crescendo, progressing from the quietest piano to the strongest fortissimo. A superior form of the gradatio is achieved when this intensification combines a crescendo with a gradual and continuous growth in new ideas and modulations.

Eine der schönsten und wirksamsten Figuren ist die Gradation (Steigerung). Man steigt gleischam stuffenweise von schwächern Sätzen zu stärken fort, und drückt dadurch eine immer zunehmende Leidenschaft aus. Die gewöhnliche Art, sie in der Tonsprache auszudrücken, geschieht durch das crescendo, womit man einen Satz vom gelindesten Piano an, bis zu dem stärksten Fortissimo fortführt. Eine bessere Art ist es, wenn diese Steigerung durch beständigen allmälichen Zuwachs an neuen Gedanken und Modulationen bewerkstelligt, und dann mit der ersten Art verbunden wird. (Forkel, 1788: 58).

Forkel’s definition reflects the use of the rhetorical figure of climax as it would be applied to classical period orchestration. Walther, on the other hand, gathers together a variety of definitions of climax in 1732, including those which may no longer be current; highlighting the ever-changing musical style of the eighteenth century. Many authors, including Mattheson, give one definition for both climax and auexsis:

The climax or gradatio is: (1) a word figure, for example when the words are set as follows: Rejoice and sing, sing and glorify, glorify and praise; (2) a musical figure which occurs when two voices progress upwards or downwards by step in parallel thirds; (3) when a passage with or without a cadence is immediately repeated several times at progressively higher pitches; (4) this term can also be given to a four-part canon in which, as the first two voices re-enter, each time one note higher, the other two voices remain in the previous key and yet still harmonise.

Climax, oder Gradatio, κλίμαζ, ist 1) eine Wort-Figur wenn z.E. gesetzt wird: Jauchzet und singet, singet und rühmet, rühmet und lobet. 2) eine Noten-Figur, wenn nemlich zwo Stimmen per Arsin & Thesin, d.i. auf-und unterwerts gradatim Tertzenweise mit 76

einander fortgehen. 3) wenn eine Clausul mit und ohne Cadentz etlichemahl immediate nach einander immer un ein Ton höher angebracht wird. 4) dörffte auch diesen Nahmen derjenige vierstimme Canon verdienen, welcher, so offt zwo Stimmen von vorne wiederum anheben, allezeit um eine Ton hoher steiget, da inzwischen die andern beyden Stimmen noch im vorigen tieffern Tone sich aufhalten, und dennoch zusammen klingen (Walther, 1732: 172).

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Ex. 2.15. Ascanio in Alba. K.111. Sinfonia. Bars 7-18.

Emphasis seeks to heighten the meaning of a text through various musical means. In the treatises of music theorists, such as Spiess, composers generally limit the figure to an emphasis of particular words. This could be explained that the discipline of rhetoric was viewed as a form of emphasis in itself. Spiess asserts: ‘The emphasis, an exceptional expression of a word through music, must be both cleverly set by the composer as well as skilfully and effectively executed by the singer. It is applied to those words containing the exceptional content, emphasis, power, strength, force, efficacy, or vigour of a passage of text/Emphasis, Nachdruck, sondere Expression, und Ausdruckung eines Worts in dem Klang oder Music muß sowohl von dem Componisten gescheit gesetzt: als auch von dem Singer geschickt und eindringlich in jenen Wörtern angebracht werden, in welchen der absonderliche Enthalt, Nachdruck, Kraft, Macht, Vis, Efficacia, Energia eines Periodi oder Rede enthalten ist’ (Spiess, 1745: 155).

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In Elisa’s second act aria from Il rè pastore, Mozart uses the rhetorical figure of emphasis, to highlight the opening word of the aria: Barbaro!/Barbarian through dynamic projection and isolation from the remaining text by way of orchestral interjections; the word is also set emphatically to consolidate the rhetorical structure of the aria (see Chapter III) (see exs. 2.16-2.17).

Ex. 2.16. Il rè pastore. K.208. Act 2, Scene 1. Aria of Elisa. Bars 1-4.

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Ex. 2.17. Il rè pastore. K.208. Act 2, Scene 1. Aria of Elisa. Bars 118-122.

Epanadiplosis or reduplicatio is the restatement of an opening phrase or musical passage at a composition’s close. The term does not appear in rhetorical treatises prior to the eighteenth century, making this figure of rhetoric particularly pertinent to the works of Mozart and his contemporaries (Bartel, 1997: 255).

Walther defines the figure thus: ‘Epanadiplosis or reduplicatio is a word figure which occurs when the opening and closing words of a sentence are the same or agree/Epanadiplosis gr. έπαναδίπλωσις, Reduplicatio ist eine Wort-Figur, so entstehet, wenn in einer Sentenz das Anfangs-und Schluß-Wort einerley ist, oder überein heisset’ (Walther, 1732: 226).

Mozart makes use of the epanadiplosis in the quartet, Andrò ramingo e solo from Idomeneo. Following the final tutti, the opening phrase of the vocal line is repeated, concluding the ensemble (see ex. 2.2).

Epizeuxis or adjunctio is the immediate and emphatic repetition of a word, note, motif or phrase. This figure of rhetoric is seen as much in instrumental music as in vocal 80

compositions. Walther says: ‘The epizeuxis or adjunctio, from epizegnuo, adjungo, is a rhetorical figure through which one or more words are immediately and emphatically repeated, for example: Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice in the Lord all the earth. And were one to set Rejoice, rejoice in the Lord all, all the earth; it would be a double epizeuxis/Epizeuxis gr. έπίζεύξις, Adjunctio, von έπιζεύγνυω, adjungo; ist eine Rhetorische Figur, nach welcher ein oder mehr Worte sofort hinter einander emphatischer Weise wiederholt werden. Z.E. Jauchzet, jauchzet, jauchzet dem Herrn alle Welt; setzet man aber: Jauchzet, jauchzet dem Herrn alle, alle Welt; so ists eine doppelte Epizeuxis’ (Walther, 1732: 228).

Mozart employs the epizeuxis in two ways in Sesto’s aria from Act I of La clemenza di Tito. The epizeuxis is evident in the opening statement of the aria: Parto/I go (see ex. 2.18), then again with the repetition of Guardami/Look at me (see ex. 2.19).

Ex. 2.18. La clemenza di Tito. K.621. Act 1, Scene 9. Aria of Sesto. Bars 1-5. 81

Ex. 2.19. La clemenza di Tito. K.621. Act 1, Scene 9. Aria of Sesto. Bars 83-84.

Paronomasia features the repetition of a musical motif with certain additions or alterations, designed to give the phrase greater emphasis. The literal meaning of this term is ‘additional name’. Mattheson is the first theorist to mention this rhetorical figure in a musical context. Both rhetoric and music emphasise the expression of the affections above all else. Forkel comments:

This figure [repetitio] is one of the most common in music and assumes its greatest benefit only when it is combined with the paronomasia (amplification). The paronomasia does not repeat a passage just as it already occurred but rather with new and powerful additions. These additions might apply either to single notes or can also be effected through a stronger or a weaker delivery.

Diese Figur ist in der Musik eine der gewönlichsten, und bekommt nur dann ihren meisten Werth, wenn sie mit der Paronomasie (Verstärkung) verbunden wird, die einen Satz nicht blos so, wie er schon da gewesen, sondern mit neuen kräftigen Zusätzen wiederholt. Diese Zusätzen können theils einzelne Töne betreffen, theils 82

aber auch durch einen stärkern oder verminderten Vortag bewerkstelligt werden (Forkel, 1788: 57).

The rhetorical figure of paronomasia can be seen in Vitellia’s Rondò, Non più di fiori from La clemenza di Tito and is a feature of Mozart’s later works. The repetition of the arpeggiated figuration in the vocal line here features additional notes and a doubling in note value, as in a notated embellishment, known as coloraturen by German theorists of the late eighteenth century (see ex. 2.20).

Ex. 2.20. La clemenza di Tito. K.621. Act 2, Scene 15. Rondò of Vitellia. Bars 21-26.

Synonymia is defined as the altered or modified repetition of a musical idea. Mattheson is the first author to give synonymia a musical interpretation. Mattheson suggests that composers might draw ideas for their inventio from the notes themselves and just as it is possible to restate a certain linguistic idea in altered form, so too can a musical idea be modified, therefore synonymia is considered more of a process than a specific device. Mattheson comments: 83

In like manner [to words and letters], ... the formation and placement of the notes as sounding letters lead us to innumerable alterations, of which especially the following four procedures are to be singled out: (1) through the duration of the notes; (2) through inversions or exchanges; (3) through repetitions and answers; and (4) through canonic progressions.

Eben also ... führen uns auch die Gestalt und Stelle der Noten, als Klang-Buchstaben, zu schier unzehligen Veränderungen, bey welchen man sich insonderheit diese vier Wege belieben läßt: (1) durch die Geltung der Noten; (2) durch die Verkehroder Verwechselung; (3) durch die Wiederholung oder den Wiederschlag und (4) die canonischen Gänge (Mattheson, 1739: 124).

Forkel talks of ‘synonymous expressions’ (synonymische ausdrücke) when he describes synonymia in his discussion of the musical dispositio. He applies this concept to larger portions of a composition, resulting in an understanding that the rhetorical figure can be used for structuring a work rather than only elaborating its parts. While the distributio is a method of subdividing a principal subject, the synonymia or synonymous form of expression is the method used to vary these dissections (Bartel, 1997: 405-406). Forkel writes:

The subdivisions [distributio] of a principal theme serve to examine the musical material from all sides. ... A composition’s intention can be to express either an individual or a general sentiment. In both cases the relationships and circumstances are so diverse that the sentiment cannot be sufficiently clarified without dissolving them into their separate parts. Such a dissolution employs devices similar to linguistic ones: for example, in music we also can have synonymous expressions, diverse forms of restatement, displacements, and so on. Even an individualisation of general sentiments can be musically expressed. Although synonymous expressions are of the same general meaning, they can each only illustrate a sentiment from their particular perspective by expressing a small incidental detail relating to the whole.

Die Zergliederungen eines Hauptsatzes dienen dazu, ihn von allen seinen verschiedenen Seiten und Gesichtspunkten zu zeigen. ... Die Absicht eines Tonstücks kann seyn: eine individuelle, oder eine allgemeine Empfindung zu schildern. In beyden Fällen sind der Beziehungen und Verhältnisse so viele, daß die Empfindung ohne Ausflösung in ihre einzelne Thiele nicht deutlich genug werden kann. Man bedient sich zu dieser Ausflösung eben so wie in der Sprache, mehrerley Mittel; wie habe z.B. auch in der Musik synonymische Ausdrücke, Umschreibungen verschiedener Arten, Versetzungen u.s.f. ja sogar eine Individualisirung allgemeiner Empfindungen läßt sich in den musikalischen Ausdrücken denken. Synonymische Ausdrücke sind zwar der Hauptbedeutung nach einerley; können aber doch eine Empfindung von irgend einer andern Seite blos dadurch zeigen, daß sie einen kleinen Nebenumstand daran ausdrücken (Forkel, 1788: 51). 84

Mattheson’s concept of synonymia ‘through repetitions and answers’ can be seen in the sinfonia of Il rè pastore. Mozart takes a motif from the principal subject of the sinfonia, exchanging the motif between unison tutti and upper strings and alternating dynamic levels, thereby creating a musical synonym (see ex. 2.21).

Ex. 2.21. Il rè pastore. K.208. Sinfonia. Bars 16-19.

Figures of contrast

Anthypophora is the rhetorical figure in which an orator answers his own questions. Quintilian defines the ‘rhetorical question’ as a question to which the listener silently provides the obvious answer. The anthypophora is described in Rhetorica ad Herennium as being ‘well adapted to conversational style/ad sermonem vehementer adcommodata est’ (Cicero, 1964 edn: 288, 289).

Such rhetorical questions are common in the eighteenth-century dramma per musica. Mozart sometimes chose to intensify the impact of this rhetorical device by setting it to a 85

recitativo obbligato, in which the orchestra can play a part in the inner drama of the character’s state of mind. An example can be seen in Elettra’s final recitativo obbligato from Idomeneo. Writer on French theatre and literature, Joseph de La Porte (1713-1779) defines the recitativo obbligato in his Dictionnaire dramatique (1776):

Recitativo obbligato is that which, interspersed with ritornelli and features of the symphony, requires, so to speak, the singer and the orchestra to be as one; ... These passages alternate between recitative and melody, bearing all the brilliance of the orchestra; these are all the more touching, more ravishing, more energetic throughout modern music. The actor is agitated, transported by a passion, which does not allow him to tell all; pauses, stops, makes hesitations, during which the orchestra speaks for him; and these silences, ... affect the listener much more, than if the actor himself spoke everything.

Récitatif Obligé; c’est celui qui, entremêlé de ritournelles et de traits de symphonie, oblige, pour ainsi dire, le Récitant et l’Orchestre l’un envers l’autre; ... Ces passages alternatifs de récitatif et de mélodie, revêtus de tout l'éclat de l’Orchestre, sont tout ce qu’il y a de plus touchant, de plus ravissant, de plus énergique dans toute la Musique moderne. L’Acteur agité, transporté d’une passion qui ne lui permet pas de tout dire, s’interrompt, s'arrête, fait de réticences, durant lesquelles l’Orchestre parle pour lui; et ces silences, ... affectant infiniment plus l’Auditeur, que l’Acteur disoit lui- même tout (La Porte, 1776: Vol. 3, 16).

ELETTRA ELECTRA

Vedrò Idamante alla rivale in braccio, Must I see Idamantes in my rival’s arms E dall’uno a dall’altra mostrarmi a dito? ... And be pointed at by each of them? ... Ah no; ... Ah no; ...

Mozart introduces a new orchestral theme following the second line of text (shown above), in which Elettra’s emphatic response to her own question is matched by an equally vehement motif played by the orchestra (ex. 2.22).

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Ex. 2.22. Idomeneo, rè di Creta. K.366. Act 3, Scene 10. Recitative of Elettra. Bars 29-39.

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Antimetabole is a figure in rhetoric which connects two principal nouns and reverses them in various ways, giving them different shades of meaning, as in this example from the Bible: ‘For the man is not of the woman; but the woman of the man. Neither was the man created for the woman; but the woman for the man’ (1 Corinthians, 11: 8-9, King James Version).

Mattheson describes the musical application of antimetabole through a two-voiced musical texture where voices answer each other with repetitions at either a higher or lower range. In music of more than one voice, this dialogue often includes this element of question and answer. This type of exchange was considered an excellent way of holding an audience’s attention (Tarling, 2005: 214).

The sinfonia of Il rè pastore features examples of the rhetorical figure of antimetabole. The first and second violins exchange question and answer in descending and ascending circuli mezzi at the octave before meeting in concord with parallel descending circuli mezzi (see ex. 2.23). This shows a purely instrumental realisation of a rhetorical figure.

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Ex. 2.23. Il rè pastore. K.208. Sinfonia. Bars 20-24.

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Antithesis or Contrapostium represents a musical representation of contrasting passions, harmonies, or thematic material. Opposing musical and literary ideas may occur successively or simultaneously. The expression of musical opposites was seen as an important device in the elaboration of a subject in a musical composition. In the late eighteenth century, the expression of antithesis was a major principle of the Sturm und Drang (Storm and Stress) artistic movement, which reached its peak during the 1770s. Its artistic aims were to frighten, to stun, and to overcome with emotion. In line with these aims was an emphasis on an anti-rational approach to all the arts. The musical objectives of Sturm und Drang were best approached by the theatre, where the all the arts were considered to meet. Arousing a strong emotional response (including awe and terror) was the principal aim of operatic composition of the period. Composers used the recitativo obbligato as a most potent weapon for passionate, unbridled expression of emotion and the orchestra was used as a musical vocabulary to commentate on this. These ideas come to the fore in the obbligato recitatives of Idomeneo (Heartz, 1980: 311).

Mattheson’s definition of antithesis is in relation to the setting of text. He explains in Der vollkommene Capellmeister: ‘For opposition in a text demands a comparable expression in music. ... Opposites can be expressed in various ways in music, ... /Denn der Worte Wiederstand erfordert daselbst auch ein gleiches in den Klängen. ... Gegensätze können auf verschiedene Weise im Gesange ausgedruckt werden‘(Mattheson, 1739: 188). Antithesis was often compared to the painting technique of chiaroscuro (light and shade) (Tarling, 2005: 202).

In the opening recitativo obbligato of Idomeneo antithesis is achieved through the juxtaposition of two contrasting musical ideas which are reflected in the text. Not only are musical contrasts represented, but also harmonic contrasts. The juxtaposition of triads at bars 46 and 49 leads to an interrupted cadence at bar 51, shifting the tonality of the recitative to G major (see ex. 2.24). These musical contrasts typify the eighteenth-century recitativo obbligato.

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ILIA ILIA

Ma che? M’ama Idamante? ... ah no; But yet does Idamantes love me? Ah no; l’ingrato per Elettra sospira, e quell’Elettra The ingrate sighs for Electra, that unhappy meschina principessa, esule d’Argo, d’Oreste princess, an exile from Argos and the alle sciagure a queste arene fuggitiva, torments of Orestes, who fled, a wanderer, raminga, è mia rivale. to these shores, is my rival. Quanti mi siete intorno carnefici spietati? ... Ruthless butchers, how many of you surround me? ...

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Ex. 2.23. Idomeneo, rè di Creta. K.366. Act 1, Scene 1. Recitative of Ilia. Bars 42-61.

Apostrophe or aversio is a rhetorical figure where the speaker turns away from those present to address the absent. It is written of the apostrophe in Rhetorica ad Herennium:

Apostrophe is the figure which expresses grief or indignation by means of an address to some man or city or place or object, as follows: ‘It is you I now address, Africanus, whose name in death means splendour and glory to the state!’ ... If we use Apostrophe in its proper place, sparingly, and when the importance of the subject seems to demand it, we shall instil in the hearer as much indignation as we desire.

Exclamatio est quae conficit significationem doloris aut indignationis alicuius per hominis aut urbis aut loci aut rei cuiuspaim conpellationem, hoc modo: ‘Te nunc adloquor, Africane, cuius mortui quoque nomen splendori ac decori est civitati. ... Hac exclamatione si loco utemur, raro, et cum rei magnitude postulare videbitur, ad

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quam volemus indignationem animum auditoris adducemus (Cicero, 1964 edn: 282, 284).

The above section of recitative from Idomeneo also features an example of apostrophe (see ex. 2.23). The Trojan princess Ilia first expresses her jealousy of the Grecian princess Electra before she rails against her Cretan guards (see above). This rhetorical figure is again marked by contrasting orchestral thematic material and texture.

Figures based on musical form or disposition

Distributio is a musical-rhetorical figure in which individual motifs or phrases of a section of a musical composition are developed before proceeding to the following thematic material. Distributio is only named among the multitude of musical rhetorical figures in eighteenth- century sources. It is first mentioned by Mattheson, but it is left to Scheibe and Forkel to elaborate on the musical distributio. Both theorists discuss various methods of ‘dissecting’ a theme. Scheibe talks of the dissection of the opening material of a concerto or aria, while Forkel sees the distributio as part of a musical composition’s dispositio (see Chapter III) and writes of his Enlightenment view that this rhetorical figure can be considered a general expression of sentiment:

The subdivisions [distributio] of a principal theme serve to examine the musical material from all sides. They are primarily used when the principal theme is too long or diverse to be grasped and appreciated all at once. A composition’s intention is to express either an individual or a general sentiment. In both cases the relationships and circumstances are so diverse that the sentiments cannot be sufficiently clarified without dissolving them into their separate parts. Such a dissolution employs devices similar to linguistic ones: for example, in music we also have synonymous expressions, diverse forms of paraphrase, replacements [hyperbaton], and so on. Even an individualisation of general sentiments can be musically expressed ... .

Die Zergliederungen eines Hauptsatzes dienen dazu, ihn von allen seinen verschiedenen Seiten und Gesichtspunkten zu zeigen. Man bedient sich derselben hauptsächlich dann, wenn der Hauptsatz zu groß oder vielseitig ist, um auf einmal ganz übersehen und begriffen werden zu können. Die Absicht eines Tonstücks kann seyn: eine individuelle, oder eine allgemeine Empfindung zu schildern. In beyden Fällen sind der Beziehungen und Verhälnisse so viele, daß die Empfindung ohne Auflösung in ihre einzelne Theile nicht deutlich genug werden kann. Man bedient sich zu dieser Auflösung eben so wie in der Sprache, mehrerley Mittel; wir haben z.B. auch 95

in der Musik synonymische Ausdrücke, Umschreibungen verschiedener Arten, Versetzungen u.s.f. ja sogar eine Individualisirung allgemeiner Empfindugen läßt sich in den musikalischen Ausdrücken denken ... (Forkel, 1788: 51).

Suspensio, not to be confused with the suspension of harmonic procedure, is not included as a musical-rhetorical figure until the mid-eighteenth century. Forkel’s concept of the suspensio is based on Gottsched’s rhetorical definition, while Scheibe’s definition concerns the structure or dispositio of a composition. Scheibe says the figure is used to structure an entire movement or composition rather than to embellish a particular musical subject or passage. While the suspensio is analogous to Quintilian’s rhetorical figure of sustentatio, he does not indicate at which point in an oration the figure should be employed, but both Gottsched and Scheibe assert that the suspensio is to be used at the beginning of a work. Scheibe and Forkel emphasise that the suspensio should not be confused with the dubitatio. They maintain that the role of the suspensio is not to express uncertainty or doubt but heighten expectation or suspense. The listener must be convinced of the composition’s direction, even though the intended goal is not initially perceptible (Bartel, 1997: 390). Scheibe explains:

The next figure is the delay or suspensio which occurs when a passage begins from a remote point and progresses for a considerable time through numerous digressions in such a manner that the listener cannot immediately discern the intention of the composer but must await the end where the resolution becomes self-evident. ... The suspensio does not concern an uncertainty in the intended tonality, which is the essence of the dubitatio, but rather concerns the arrangement of the opening of a piece. Frequently, a recitative is allowed to begin with a flurry of instruments without an indication of a specific subject. The listener is held in suspense up to the point of the singer’s entry, when the explanation of the preceding digression is discovered. ... It is the distinguishing property of the suspensio to move the listener to attentiveness, for which the figure is particularly well suited.

Die IXte Figur ist das Aufhalten, (Suspensio,) wenn man einen Satz ganz von weitem anfängt, und eine gute Weile durch viele Umschweife fortführet, daß der Zuhörer nicht gleich weis, was des Componisten eigentliche Meynung ist, sondern das Schluß erwarten muß, wo sich die Auflösung von sich selbst zeiget. ... Sie betrifft nicht die Ungewißheit der Tonart, aus welcher man setzet, als welches ein eigentliches Wesen des Zweifels ist, sondern sie betrifft die Einrichtung des Anfangs eines Stückes. So läßt man sehr oft ein Rezitativ mit einem Geräusche der Instrumenten anfangen, ohne darinnen einen gewissen Satz zum Grunde zu legen; und der Zuhörer wird so lange 96

aufgehalten, bis endlich die Singestimme eintritt, und die Erklärung der vohergegangenen Umschweife entdecket. ... Er ist also die vornehmste Eingenschaft des Aufhaltens, die Zuhörer in Aufmerksamkeit zu setzen, als wozu sie insonderheit geschickt ist (Scheibe, 1745: 694).

The opening of Cecilio’s recitativo obbligato, Morte fatal (Fateful death) from Act I of Lucio Silla employs the rhetorical figure of suspensio. A number of musical subjects are featured in the orchestral introduction to the recitative before the vocal line begins (see ex. 2.24).

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Ex. 2.24. Lucio Silla. K.135. Act 1, Scene 7. Recitative of Cecilio. Bars 1-17/9.

Transitio can be defined as a musical passage that links movements of a composition or sections of a musical oration. The figure is described in Rhetorica ad Herennium: ‘Transition is the name given to the figure which briefly recalls what has been said, and likewise briefly sets forth what is to follow next, thus: “You know how he has just been conducting himself toward the fatherland; now consider what kind of son he has been to his parents”/Transitio vocatur quae cum ostendit breviter quid dictum sit, proponit item brevit quid sequatur, hoc pacto: “Modo in patriam cuiusmodo fuerit habitis; nunc in parentis quails extiterit considerate”’(Cicero, 1964 edn: 316, 318).

The musical application of transitio, in regards to its role in the structure of a composition, is first seen in Mattheson’s Capellmeister, where the term becomes interchangeable with transitus, which up until then was defined as a dissonant passing note between two consonant notes. Mattheson says: ‘There is a transitus or transition , through which the previous material is connected with the following, progressing from one to the other./Da ist

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ein Transitus oder Uibergang, Krafft dessen das vorige mit dem folgenden an einander gefüget, und von jenem zu diesem herüber getreten wird (Mattheson, 1739: 238).

Mozart uses the musical transitio regularly in his compositional style. Usually Mozart employs this rhetorical figure in his dal segno arias as a means of returning to the thematic material of the first section of the aria (see Chapter III). He also often uses the transitio to link the sinfonias of his musical dramas to the opening number of the work, as in this example from Il rè pastore (see ex. 2.25).

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Ex. 2.25. Il rè pastore. K.208. Sinfonia/Act 1, Scene 1. Aria of Aminta. Bars 101-115/5.

In summary

Inspired by Renaissance humanitarianism and seventeenth-century rationalism, music theorists sought to analyse and define linguistic sources in rhetoric and construct a parallel structure in musical composition (Bartel, 1997: 24). Despite changing view on aesthetics in music during the eighteenth century, the role of rhetorical figures was still seen as a prime source for the natural expression of text, through to the Enlightenment mandate where it has been argued that the centrality of the text gave way to a general expression of an individual’s sentiments (Bartel, 1997: 24).

An approach consistently adopted by Mozart and other late eighteenth-century composers can be observed in the employment of musical-rhetorical figures in the vocal lines of their compositions, which changed little since these rhetorical devices were formulated. With the evolving musical style and developments in orchestration during the eighteenth century, composers began to shift some of these figures of rhetoric from the vocal line of their works 102

to the orchestral accompaniment. This is particularly evident in the figures of imitation or mimesis and figures of contrast. The Comte de Lacépède comments on these ideas in Poétique de la musique. He articulates this view in his statement that orchestral and vocal writing should produce different layers of meaning, while the role of the overall musical structure should be to focus on the dramatic situation as a whole (Thomas, 2002: 314): a view of musical rhetoric that can be found throughout the pages of Mozart’s drammi per musica.

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Chapter III

Dispositio: the rhetorical structure of operatic forms

A central concept of the rhetorical style for the eighteenth-century composer and musician was the knowledge of structure and the skill to demonstrate this to the audience. The understanding of this compositional method was considered a necessary prerequisite to delivering the intended expression. The purpose of studying classical language and rhetoric was to enable the pupil first to appreciate the great works through understanding their compositional techniques, style and structure and then produce similar models by imitation. Forkel offers a late eighteenth-century view on this legacy from the ancient world in Über die Theorie der Musik, in a short paragraph headed die musikalische Rhetorik. Here Forkel outlines the importance that rhetoric plays in the invention (inventio) of the composer’s (der Künstler) musical ideas. He contrasts this with the needs of the ‘mere music lover/der blosse Musikliebhaber’ who does not aim to study musical composition and the rules of rhetoric, but rather to understand existing compositions (Forkel, 1777: 21).

The formal structure of a classical oration was defined in various ways, however all writers agree that the principal elements of the structure of any speech constitute a beginning, a middle and an end. Quintilian proposes in the celebrated treatise Institutio Oratoria that the natural structure of any speech follows this scheme, even those, he says ‘that are composed by uneducated persons, barbarians and slaves/quod indocti et barbari et servi’ (Quintilian trans. Butler, 1920 edn: 329). Furthermore, a classical oration is traditionally ‘disposed’ into six sections, where the periodic structure of a speech moves ahead according to a predictable logic. This concept was ‘inherited’, one could say, by eighteenth-century librettists and composers of dramma per musica from the theorists of the Renaissance. Music theorists such as Mattheson and Forkel considered the structure of a musical piece in the same way as a speech. The art of organising an oration is known as the Disposition, which is described in Diderot’s Encyclopédie thus:

[The Disposition is] the part of the Art of Rhetoric that consists of positioning and arranging the different parts of an oration with order and accuracy. For the 104

oratorical art, the Disposition is what a fine order of battle is for an army that is preparing to fight; for it is not enough to have found arguments and reasons pertinent to the subject that one is presenting, one must also know how to introduce them, arrange them in the order most likely to make an impression on listeners’ minds. All parts of an oration should have a judicious connection with one another, in order to form a whole that is tightly linked and well matched.

[C’est la] partie de la Rhétorique qui consiste à placer et ranger avec ordre et justesse les différentes parties d’un discours. La disposition est dans l’art oratoire ce qu’est un bel ordre de bataille dans une armeé, lorsqu’il s’agit d’en venir aux mains; car il ne suffit pas d’avoir trouvé des arguments et des raisons qui doivent entrer dans le sujet qu’on traite, il faut encore savoir les amener, les disposer dans l’ordre le plus propre à faire impression sur l’esprit des auditeurs. Toutes les parties d’un discours doivent avoir entre elles un juste rapport, pour former un tout qui soit bien lié et bien assorti (Mallet quoted in Diderot, 1751: 975).

In Der vollkommene Capellmeister, Mattheson draws a comparison between the structure of a composition and the plan of a building, which sets out the layout of the rooms. He says a musical composition is divided into six parts, as is an oration, and this forms the structure of good speeches and good compositions. Mattheson believed this plan occurred naturally to musicians without them necessarily having an extensive knowledge of classical rhetoric. He says the most effective structure consists of presenting the strongest points first, then the weaker ones, followed by an impressive conclusion (Tarling, 2005: 154).

Of the six sections of a classical oration, the first is the exordium, which is also known as the introduction or opening statement. Quintilian says: ‘The sole purpose of the exordium is to prepare our audience in such a way that they will be disposed to lend a ready ear to the rest of our speech/Causa principii nulla alia est, quam ut auditorium, quo sit nobis in ceteris partibus accommodatior, praeparemus’ (Quintilian trans. Butler, 1921 edn: 9).

Musically, the function of the exordium is to prepare the audience for the nature of the case that is to be presented. It puts forward the predominant emotion of the work and introduces the subject under discussion (Tarling, 2005: 155).

In his most famous work, La Rhétorique françoise French historiographer and rhetorician, René Bary (fl.1640-1680) says of the exordium that: ‘Musicians prepare the ear by means of preludes, actors by prologues, and orators by Exordia/Les Musiciens preparent l’oreille par 105

les Preludes, les Comediens par les Prologues, et les Orateurs par les Exordes’ (Bary, 1659: 229). French pedagogue and oratorian, Bernard Lamy (1640-1715) describes the goals of the exordium in his L’Art de parler:

The orator should set three goals for the Exordium or opening of his oration: the approval, attention and docility of the audience. He wins over the people to whom he is speaking, and their favour is gained by first showing them that one is speaking from sincere zeal for the truth and from love of the public good. He makes them attentive by selecting, for the Exordium, the most noble and most brilliant aspects of the subject being discussed and that consequently can arouse the desire to hear the rest of the oration.

L’Orateur doit se proposer trois choses dans l‘Exorde ou entrée de son discours, qui sont la faveur, l’attention, de la docilité des Auditeurs. Il gagne ceux à qui on parle, et on acquiert leur faveur, en leur donnant d’abord des marques sensibles, que l’on ne parle que par un zele sincere de la verité, et par un amour du bien public. Il les rend attentifs, en prenant pour Exorde ce qu’il y a de plus noble, et de plus éclatant dans le sujet qu’on traite, et qui consequent peut exciter le desir d’entendre la suite du discours (Lamy, 1675: 354-355).

The English lawyer and writer on music, Roger North (c1651-1734) says that the opening of a musical composition should conjure up the full value of music’s powers. Here, the orator needs to choose an appropriate tone of voice for the passion they are trying to kindle in listeners’ souls (Tarling, 2005: 158). A late eighteenth-century perspective on the exordium is given by French man of letters and librettist, Jean-François Marmontel (1723-1799) in his Éléments des littérature (1787): ‘While eloquence in the Exordium should be noble, it should also be simple, with little showiness, few ornamental turns of phrase and no studied adornments. ... The Exordium is like the front line of an army: it must be firm, but it is necessary to keep what is best for the Peroration/En même temps que l'éloquence de l’exorde doit être noble, elle doit être simple; peu d'éclat et peu d’ornaments, nulle parure étudiée. ... L’exorde est comme le front de l'armée: il doit être ferme; mais il faut réserver pour la peroraison ce qu’il y a de meilleur’ (Marmontel, 1854 edn: 130-132).

The narratio (narration) follows the exordium. In this section, the narratio elaborates upon the opening statement that was made in the exordium. Here, the orator adopts a more assertive manner, but avoids making emotional statements. The narratio is also known as

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the statement of facts. Quintilian says: ‘The statement of facts ... is a speech instructing the audience as to the nature of the case in dispute. Most writers ... hold that it should be lucid, brief and plausible [to] ... make it easier for the judge to understand, remember and believe what we say/Narratio ... oratio docens auditorem, quid in controversia sit. Eam plerique scriptores ... volunt esse lucidam, brevem, verisimilem ... quo facilius iudex intelligat, meminerit, credat’ (Quintilian trans. Butler, 1921 edn: 66,68). He says the narratio should be plainly and clearly delivered, with the charm of variety, or it will ‘necessarily fall flat/iaceat necesse est’ (Quintilian trans. Butler, 1921 edn: 114), and the more dignified the orator is, the greater his credibility (Tarling, 2005: 161). Lamy further clarifies this in saying: ‘One should therefore say things simply, as they are. ... Rhetoricians ask three things of a Narration: that it be brief, that it be clear, that it be plausible/On doit donc dire les choses simplement commes elle sont. ... Les Rheteurs demandent trios choses dans une narration, qu’elle soit courtes, qu’elle soit claire, qu’elle soit probable’ (Lamy, 1675: 358, 360).

From the narratio, an oration proceeds to the propositio (proposition), which Quintilian regards as forming a divisio (division) of a speech. Quintilian goes on to mention that: ‘It is not always necessary to employ it. The nature of the main question is sometimes sufficiently clear without any proposition, ... /Ea non semper uti necesse est. Aliquando enim sine propositione quoque satis manifestum est quid in quaestione versetur, ... ‘ (Quintilian trans. Butler, 1921 edn: 130). However, he says that the propositio not only makes a speech clearer, but also makes it more moving, and that it can be made up of several distinct propositions (ed. Goold, 1921 edn: 134-135). This optional use and omission of the propositio was common in eighteenth-century musical composition, although recent writers such as John Irving have questioned whether it is possible to clearly identify the function of the propositio in Mozart’s piano sonatas, based on the hierarchy of tonic and subsidiary keys during the eighteenth century (Irving, 1997: 117).

The second half of an oration opens with the confirmatio (confirmation), or the proof. Here the orator begins his eloquent return to the idea stated in the exordium. The confirmatio is the most powerful section of an oration, which sometimes requires a different ambience. The orator makes a forceful argument to support this position and allows emotion to creep into his voice to add strength to his statements (Ranum, 2001: 93). French teacher of

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rhetoric, Étienne du Bois, abbé de Bretteville (1650-1688) says of the confirmatio in L’Éloquence ce de la chaire, et du barreau, selon les principles les plus solides de la Rhétorique sacrée et profane: ‘In the Confirmation the voice must be strong and masculine, in order to give one’s arguments more weight, and [the voice] must vary according to the diversity of the passions and figures of speech that dominate in this section of the oration/Dans la Confirmation, il faut que la voix soit forte et mâle, pour donner plus de poids aux raisons, et qu’elle varie selon la diversité des Passions et des Figures qui regnent dans cette Parties du Discours’ (Bretteville, 1689: 482).

Often the confutatio or Reprehensio (refutation) was seen as the companion of the confirmatio, forming the central section of an oration. This view is corroborated by Calvinist minister Michel Le Faucheur (1585-1657) in his Traitté de l’action de l’orateur ou de la pronunciation et du geste:

As for the Confirmation, which contains our side of the arguments, and the Refutation, which contains the solution to our adversaries’ arguments, this must be the heart of our oration; and since it is there that our mind becomes the most excited, and we use all the grand figures of oratory, it is also there that we must speak with the most contentious tone of voice and further diversify our Pronunciation.

Quant à la Confirmation, qui contient les argumens de nostre cause; et à la Réfutation, qui consiste en la solution de ceux de nos adversaires, ce doit être là le fort de nostre discours: et comme c'est-là que nostre esprit s'émuet le plus, et que nous employons toutes les grandes figures de l’Orasion; aussi est-ce là que nous devons parler avec une plus grandes contention de voix, et diversifier d’advantage nostre Pronunciation (Le Faucheur, 1657: 140-141).

Again, John Irving questions whether the confutatio can be clearly identified within the structure of Mozart’s piano sonatas. He asks whether the confutatio can be seen in the contrasting theme of a secondary key-area within the exposition, or with the contrasting material in the ensuing development section (Irving, 1997: 117). In Mozart’s aria forms, I propose that the confutatio is more closely aligned to the development section of what we now call sonata form.

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Along with the exordium, the peroratio (peroration) or conclusio (conclusion) was considered one of the most important sections of an oration. The Peroration brings a speech or musical composition to a close by reminding the listener of the central word or idea that was expressed in the Exordium. The speaker is now more emphatic than he was during his opening statements, although he must remain careful to begin the Peroration with a calm tone of voice to set it apart from the emotional remarks of the confirmatio (Ranum, 2001: 95). Still, Quintilian says that the end of a speech was seen as the most appropriate place for an emotional delivery, as a skilled orator was expected to finish his Peroration on a triumphant note. This was thought to heighten the prevailing emotion of a composition, but this can also ‘inflame or quench the passion’ reached at the end of the previous section (either confirmatio or confutatio) (Tarling, 2004: 162). The purpose of the peroratio is to arouse sympathy in the listener to the principal message contained in the oration, according to Quintilian: ‘In [the] conclusion ... the orator establishes his sway over the emotions of his audience, forces his way into their very hearts and brings the feelings of the jury into perfect sympathy with all his words/in iocis urbanitas, ut denique dominetur in adfectibus atque in pectora irrumpat animumque iudicum similem iis, quae dicit, efficiat’ (Quintilian trans. Butler, 1920 edn: 248, 250). Seventeenth-century writers on rhetoric confirm the ancient sources. Lamy writes:

An orator who fears that the listener has forgotten the things that he has said, should repeat these things to him before concluding the oration. ... To this end, ... he should make this little repetition ... in an animated way that is not boring and that reawakens the emotions that one has aroused.

Un Orateur qui apprehende que les choses qu’il a dites ne s'échappent de la mémoire de son Auditeur, doit lui renouveller ces choses avant que de finir son discours. ... Pour cela il faut faire ... cette petite repetition ... d’une manière animée, et qui ne soit pas ennuyeuse réveillant les mouvemens qu’on a excitez (Lamy, 1699 edn: 364-365).

In his study of Mozart’s piano sonatas, John Irving argues that the rhetorical structure of a speech is the basis of Mozart’s compositional technique, citing the adaptation of rhetorical structure to sonata form. A similar adaptation of this structure is also evident in the musical forms of the drammi per musica. In eighteenth-century vocal composition, predominantly in the aria, it may be stated in general that the rhetorical partitions are flexible, ranging from 109

four to eight parts (see below). All subsequent sources are in accordance with the two-part structure of an oration proposed by Aristotle, who says: ‘There are two parts of the speech. It is necessary to state the subject-matter and to demonstrate it’ (3.13, Aristotle trans. Lawson-Trancred, 1991: 245). This flexible approach is reiterated by Mattheson, who says in response to criticism of his too ‘literal’ application of rhetoric to music by German writer on music, Lorenz Christoph Mizler von Kolof (1711-1778):

Experienced masters proceed in an orderly manner, even when they do not think about it ... it would be very pedantic indeed if one were to look for all these elements in their particular order in every melody and seek to apply them ... A musical oration has a great deal more liberty [than a verbal oration]; hence in a melody there might be something similar among the exordium, the narratio, and the propositio, so long as they are made different from one another by keys, by being made higher or lower, or by similar marks of distinction ... .

Gewiegte Meister verfahren ordentlich, wenn sie gleich nicht daran gedencken ... wenn einer die angeführen Theile alle, und in eben der Ordnung, bey jeder Melodie, ängstiglich suchen und anbringen wolte ... Eine Klangrede hat vor einer andern viele Freiheit voraus, und günstigere Umstände: daher bey einer Melodie der Eingang, die Erzehlung und der Vortrag gar gerne etwas ähnliches haben mögen, wenn sie nur durch die Tonarten, Erhöhung, Erniedrigung und andere dergleichen merckliche Abzeichen ... (Mattheson, 1739: 25-26).

The four-part oration: the operatic sinfonia

A four-part musical oration dispenses with the propositio and confutatio of the usual six-part Disposition. The four-part arrangement was particularly favoured for smaller eighteenth- century instrumental and vocal forms, such as the movements of the overture or sinfonia, and the cavatina. John Irving asserts that it is difficult to clearly identify the musical equivalents of the propositio and confutatio, while Patricia Ranum argues in The Harmonic Orator that treatises on rhetoric published in France during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries rarely mention the propositio and confutatio, and few French airs of the period are long enough to include these sections (Ranum, 2001: 87).

The Comte de Lacépède asserts in Poétique that vocal and instrumental pieces alike are modelled after orations. Writing of multi-sectioned instrumental works, such the sinfonia

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and concerto during the 1780’s, Lacépède regards them as ‘long airs’ which are complex orations composed of several periods that combine to form a unified whole:

The musician will compose each of his three pieces separately, as if he were working on a long air in which one or more voices were seeking to express more or less lively affections. ... But next he would have to think of them as merely three long acts of a theatrical work, ... and that all these affections should form a natural whole and constitute a sort of drama. ... The first piece, the one that is called the allegro of the symphony, would, so to speak, be the overture and the opening scenes. In the andante or second piece, the musician would place the painting of terrible events, the awesome passions or the agreeable objects that should constitute the heart of the play. And the final piece, usually called the presto, would offer the final efforts of these frightening or touching passions, and the dénouement would be shown there as well; and after that one would see the pain, fright and consternation inspired by a baneful catastrophe, or the Joy, happiness and delirium that would be born of agreeable and happy events.

Le musicien composera chacun de ses trois morceaux en particulier, comme s’il travailloit à un grand air où une ou plusieurs voix chercheroient à exprimer des affections plus ou moins vives; ... Mais ensuite il faudroit qu’il ne les considérât que comme trois grands actes d’une pièce de théâtre, ... que toutes ces affections formassent un tout naturel, et composent une espèce de drame. ... Le premier morceau, celui que l’on appelle l’allegro de la symphonie, en présenteroit pour ainsi dire l’ouverture et les premières scènes; dans l’andante ou le second morceau, le musicien placeroit la peinture des événemens terribles, des passions redoutables, ou des objets agréables qui devroient faire le fonds de la pièce; et le dernier morceau, auquel on donne communément le nom de presto, offriroit les derniers efforts de ces passions affreuses ou touchantes; la dénouement s'y montreroit aussi, et l’on verroit à sa suite la douleur, l’effroi et la consternation qu’inspire une catastrophe funeste, ou la joie, le bonheur et le délire que feroient naître des événemens agréables et heureux (Lacépède, 1785: 331-332).

In other words, Lacépède states in the above quote that irrespective of whether a musician is performing an aria or an entire symphony, they must call upon their knowledge of the dispositio to reveal the structure of the work, its phrasing and expression (Ranum, 2001: 86). These observations on larger musical structures are particularly pertinent to the majority of the overtures to Mozart’s drammi per musica, which follow the three-movement format (described above) of the sinfonia avanti l’opera (symphony before the opera) that emerged during the latter part of the seventeenth century, and is a feature of operas from the time of Alessandro Scarlatti (1660-1725) onwards. German composer and writer on music 111

Christian Friedrich Daniel Schubart defines the sinfonia or overture in a similar fashion to Lacépède in his famous treatise Ideen zu einer Aesthetik der Tonkunst: ‘This category of musical composition originated from the opening of musical plays and was finally introduced in private concerts. They usually consist of an Allegro, Andante and Presto/Diese Gattung von Tonstücken ist aus den Eröffnungen der musikalischen Schauspiele entstanden, und endlich auch in Privatconcerte eingeführt worden. Sie bestehen meistens aus einem Allegro, Andante und Presto’ (Schubart, 1839 edn: 363).

The sinfonia to Mozart’s dramma per musica Mitridate (1770) will be used to illustrate the application of these rhetorical principles to the structure of this operatic genre. This work shares a common structure and form with the other overtures of Mozart’s drammi per musica of the 1770s.

The four sections of a four-part oration are clearly defined within each of the three movements of this sinfonia – these being the exordium, narratio, confirmatio and peroratio. As early in his career as the composition of Mitridate, Mozart can be seen to have understood the important role that rhetorical structure played in musical composition. German composer and theorist Augustus Frederic Christopher Kollmann (1756-1829) writes of the importance of rhetorical structure in his Essay on Practical Musical Composition (1799), as it applies to the symphonic genre. Despite being published 29 years after Mitridate was composed, Kollmann’s precepts can be equally applied to the symphonic compositions of previous generations. Kollmann writes: ‘According to the said length of a piece, its disposition must be made, and it must be previously considered and determined upon: ... how many sections there shall be in every movement ... what subjects, periods and passages, will be the most proper for the length and intended character of every particular movement and section’ (Kollmann, 1799: 2). Kollmann goes on to comment that ‘every movement is considered as a piece by itself, ... Pieces and movements of one or two long sections, require a setting out and a return [in modulation], ... Each section may be divided into two subsections; which in the whole makes four subsections’ (Kollmann, 1799: 2, 5). Even though Kollmann does not use specifically rhetorical terminology in his treatise (apart from ‘disposition’), his explanation of musical form shows the implied application of

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rhetorical concepts: for example, the term ‘subsections’ can be aligned with the rhetorical sections of a musical oration.

The exordium of a movement from an operatic sinfonia states the main thematic material which is to follow throughout the rest of the movement. The treatment of material, rather than the content, was seen to make an exordium successful. Cicero indicates in his Rhetorica ad Herennium that in an exordium, the orator should merely hint at the likely emotional content that is to come (Tarling, 2005: 159). The exordium of the first movement of the sinfonia to Mitridate consists mainly of tonic pedal and cadential phrases (see ex. 3.1).

Ex. 3.1. Mitridate, rè di Ponto K.87. Sinfonia, 1st movt. Bars 1-8.

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Mozart suggests that a change in musical content is imminent by ending the exordium on the dominant of the movement’s home tonality. Kollmann describes the exordium as the ‘first subsection’ saying it ‘must contain the setting out from the key towards its fifth in major, ... ‘ (Kollmann, 1799: 5) (see ex. 3.2).

Ex. 3.2. Mitridate, rè di Ponto K.87. Sinfonia, 1st movt. Bars 11-20.

The exordium should also be connected in some way to what follows, as an integral part of the whole rather than being detached from it. Cicero writes: ‘The preliminary message must not be like the skirmishing of the Samnite gladiators, who before a fight brandish their spears which they are not going to make use of in the actual encounter, but must be of such a character as to enable the combatants to employ in the real encounter the very ideas

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which they have made play with in the introduction/Atque eiusmodi illa prolusio debet esse, non ut Samnitium, qui vibrant hastas ante pugnam quibus in pugnando nihil utuntur, sed ut ipsis sententiis quibus proluserint vel pugnare possint’ (Ciceo, trans. Sutton, 1947: 444).

Kollmann says that the narratio or second subsection ‘comprehends a first sort of elaboration, consisting of a more natural modulation than that of the third subsection; it may be confined to the fifth or third of the key only; ... ‘ (Kollmann, 1799: 5). In the sinfonia to Mitridate, Mozart achieves this continuity between exordium and narratio by introducing new musical material, which is still linked through motivic similarity to earlier statements, with dotted rhythms and martial-style trumpet call figurations a feature. (see ex. 3.2). To mark the beginning of this new section, Mozart modulates from the tonic to the dominant, or the fifth, as Kollmann explains above. This is a structural necessity of the classical sinfonia, though always negotiated in individual ways by Mozart; the shift to the dominant in example 3.2 is typical of early classical compositional design.

The second half of a four-part oration begins with the confirmatio, where the most emotional statements are made. German diplomat and critic Friedrich Melchior, Baron von Grimm (1723-1807) writes of the musical application of the confirmatio in his article ‘Motif, musique’ in Diderot’s Encyclopédie: ‘In general, the second half of an air is especially devoted to the effects of the [tonal] harmony: here the musician demonstrates his great artistry, having shown in the first half that he is a man of genius/En général, les secondes parties des airs sont plus particulierement consacrées aux effets de l’harmonie: le musicien s’y montre grand artiste, après s'être montré dans la première partie homme de génie’ (Grimm cited in Diderot, 1751: 952). Kollmann gives a more technical account, stressing harmonic and tonal variety of this section: ‘[the] third subsection or beginning of the second section, comprehends a second sort of elaboration, consisting of digressions to all those keys and modes which shall be introduced besides that of the fifth ... and being the place for those abrupt modulations, or enharmonic changes, which the piece admits or requires’ (Kollmann, 1799: 5). It could be argued that these principles can be traced in the development section of a piece in sonata form. The greater degree of tonal argument outlined here by Kollmann reflects the later date at which he was writing. Throughout his

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Essay on Practical Musical Composition, Kollmann frequently refers to the symphonies which Haydn had recently composed for London.

Mozart reflects this heightened emotion in the confirmatio of the first movement of the overture to Mitridate by modulating to the supertonic of the home tonality and through his writing for rauschende Violinen (rushing violins) (see ex. 3.3). German theorist Heinrich Christoph Koch (1749-1816) defined das Rauschende (rushing) in his article ‘Rauscher’ from Musikalisches Lexikon as ‘those textures in which two different notes are alternated in quick motion/bey welchen zwey verschiedenen Töne merhmals nach einander abwechselnd in geschwinder Bewegung wiederholt werden’ (Koch, 1802: column 1230).

Ex. 3.3. Mitridate, rè di Ponto K.87. Sinfonia, 1st movt. Bars 36-40.

In the confirmatio of the last movement, Mozart takes a slightly different approach in the way he portrays the emotional peak. He again makes use of tonal modulation, as well as antithetical articulations between the first and second violin parts (see ex. 3.4). This section 116

of the oration, begun by the second violins at a piano dynamic, offers a contrast to the orchestral tutti conclusion to the preceding narratio. The emotional peak of the confirmatio is created by contrasts in orchestral articulations and harmonic modulation as it leads back to the main tonality of D major.

Ex. 3.4. Mitridate, rè di Ponto K.87. Sinfonia, 3rd movt. Bars 57-75.

Other compositional devices that Mozart employs in the confirmatio sections of both outer movements of the sinfonia of Mitridate are abrupt dynamic contrasts and orchestrally based textural contrasts, which include the layering of instrumental timbres. Register contrasts can also be seen, particularly in the confirmatio of the first movement of the sinfonia with the introduction of first and second violins and the as the forte commences (see ex. 3.3). 117

During the eighteenth century, this compositional technique was referred to as chiaroscuro (light and shade). German theorist and composer Johann Friedrich Daube (c1730-1797) comments on these concepts in Der Musikalische Dillettant. He describes predominant features, such as the alternation of different sizes [weights] of forte and piano and the alternation of Rauschenden and Singbaren (singable) (Daube cited in Parsonson, 1980: 7). Daube also recommends this constant variation in texture, in which sustained passages in one texture are not encouraged. He writes: ‘Even in the most fully scored pieces one must interrupt the full texture at times, and introduce a delicate passage/denn auch in den vollstimmigsten Sachen muß zuweilen die Vollstimmigkeit unterbrochen werden, wenn eine zärtliche Passage darinn vorkommen soll’ (Daube, 1773: 7). Describing symphonic style, Daube emphasises the principles of alternating two types of orchestral texture and asserts that symphonic style is based on the alternation of das Rauschende or the so-called ‘brilliant style’ with cantabile (das Singbare). Daube also comments that the role of the horns in this musical structure is clear: that horns are to be used only in pieces composed in the ‘brilliant style’ (Daube cited in Parsonson, 1980: 28). Other contemporary writers on music, such as Johann Adam Hiller (1728-1804) comment that this contrast of sustained notes or das Singbare against a rapid-moving figuration in the string parts produced a satisfying texture (Parsonson, 1980: 28) (see ex. 3.3).

The classical oration was always constructed in a rhetorical circular period. Here, the peroratio makes a return to statements expressed in the exordium; and musically, the period makes its return to the initial key or mode of the piece and its principal musical subject. Lacépède comments:

In like manner, in music, after the composer has stated his theme as many times as he thinks he should and in as many ways as he deems necessary, when nothing remains to be stated about his subject, he must pull his theme and all its developments together, or, to be more accurate, should present his theme again, adding to it all the force that the separate developments have given it and that can possibly be applied to it. ... it is on this sort of privileged phrase that the composer ought to conclude his composition.

De même en musique, après le compositeur a montré son motif autant de fois qu’il a cru le devoir, et des toutes les manières qui lui ont paru nécessaires, lorsqu’il ne lui reste plus rien à faire connoître dans son sujet, il doit ramasser son motif et tous ses développemens, ou pour mieux dire, il doit présenter encore son motif, en y ajoutant 118

toute la force que les développemens particuliers ont offerte, et qu’il est possible de lui appliquer; ... c’est par cette espèce de phrase privilégié que le compositeur doit terminer son ouvrage (Lacépède, 1785: 123-125).

This section of the sinfonia of Mitridate restates the opening thematic material of the overture, as would be seen in the recapitulation of a piece composed in sonata form. Following this, the material of the narratio is presented in the home key, bringing the work to a close. Kollmann calls this the fourth subsection, which ‘contains the return to the key, with a third sort of elaboration, similar to that of the first subsection’ (Kollmann, 1799: 5) (see ex. 3.1).

The four-part oration: text-based forms

A smaller-scale musical form, which was commonly composed for eighteenth-century musical drama, was the cavatina. Schubart says the cavatina ‘is a branch of the aria. No coloratura occurs in them. It is the simple, artless expression of feeling, and has for this reason only one section. The subject of a cavatina must be emotional, moving, comprehensible and be effortless/ist ein Zweig von der Arie. Es dürfen darin keine Coloraturen vorkommen. Sie ist einfacher kunstloser Ausdruck einer Empfindung, und hat deßwegen nur einen Satz. Das motiv einer Cavatine muß gefühlvoll, rührend, verständlich, und leicht seyn’ (Schubart, 1839 edn: 362).

This form of vocal composition was one of the few to be structured as a four-part oration, dispensing with the propositio and confutatio. In the following example from Ascanio in Alba, there is no orchestral to begin the cavatina. A feature of the exordium in this particular case is that it coincides with the beginning of the vocal line. This type of exordium Cicero calls insinuatio (insinuation), which is reflected musically by the use of rests in the opening bar of the vocal line and the subtle accompaniment by the strings. Cicero remarks: ‘The insinuation is a speech which by dissimulation and indirection steals into the mind of the auditor/Insinuatio est oratio quadam dissimulatione et circumitione obscure subiens auditoris animum’ (Cicero trans. Hubbell, 1949: 42) (see ex. 3.5).

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Ex. 3.5. Ascanio in Alba K.111. Part 1, Scene 4. Cavatina of Silvia. Bars 1-2.

A shift to the dominant key announces that this musical oration has progressed to the narratio.

Sì, sì, ma d'un altro Amore Yes, yes, but another love Sento la fiamma in petto: Burns in my heart E l’innocente affetto And I cannot control Solo a regnar non è. This innocent affection.

Mozart gives his composition a more direct approach to this section of Silvia’s cavatina, not only through the clearly defined modulation, but also in the accompaniment, with the inclusion of sustained oboe parts and the use of equal rhythmic movement in the vocal line (see ex. 3.6). This may be seen as a contrast to the broken vocal line with interjections from the strings (see ex. 3.5) in the insinuatio variety of exordium which precedes it, and is partly dictated by the first word of the text (see above).

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Ex. 3.6. Ascanio in Alba K.111. Part 1, Scene 4. Cavatina of Silvia. Bars 5-9.

The second half of this cavatina begins with the confirmatio, which like its instrumental counterpart (the movement of a sinfonia) (see ex. 3.3), is highlighted in this example by tonal modulation with minor inflections, as well as contrasting orchestral textures and motivic material (see ex. 3.7). Due to the brevity of the confirmatio in this instance, only the first couplet of the text is set here.

Ex. 3.7. Ascanio in Alba K.111. Part 1, Scene 4. Cavatina of Silvia. Bars 15-19.

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The peroratio is marked by the return of the thematic material from the exordium, which begins this section, concluding with that of the narratio, now in the piece’s home key of E- flat. The return of the home key also sees a recapitulation of text formerly used in both the exordium and narratio (see ex. 3.5). In its musical structure, this cavatina is loosely based on sonata form models.

EXORDIUM EXORDIUM

Sì, sì, ma d'un altro Amore Yes, yes, but another love Sento la fiamma in petto: Burns in my heart

NARRATIO NARRATION

E l’innocente affetto And I cannot control Solo a regnar non è. This innocent affection.

CONFIRMATIO CONFIRMATION

Sì, sì, ma d'un altro Amore Yes, yes, but another love Sento la fiamma in petto: Burns in my heart

PERORATIO PERORATION

Sì, sì, ma d'un altro Amore Yes, yes, but another love Sento la fiamma in petto: Burns in my heart E l’innocente affetto And I cannot control Solo a regnar non è. This innocent affection.

The five- and six-part oration

The musical form of the aria was regarded as being more suited to a larger rhetorical structure, as it offered greater scope for the expression of a variety of sentiments. In Ideen Schubart defines the aria as:

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An artistic song, which is divided into two sections: an antecedent and a consequent. The first section is developed at great length: here are inversions, embellishments, fermatas, cadenzas and everything is permitted, by which means the singer can execute. The second section, however, is usually marked by simple passages without repetitions and by artful modulations. It is much shorter than the preceding section. Every aria must have a certain insinuating motive, and from this motive other phrases are derived through inversions ... .

Ein künstliches Singstück, welches aus zwey Sätzen besteht, einem Vorder-und Nachsatz. Der Vordersatz wird weitläufig ausgeführt: hier sind Umkehrungen, Coloraturen, Fermen, Cadenzen und alles erlaubt, wodurch sich der Sänger heben kann. Der Nachsatz aber zeichnet sich gemeiniglich durch simple Gänge ohne Wiederhohlungen und künstliche Modulationen aus. Er ist viel kürzer als der Vordersatz. Jede Arie muß ein bestimmte insinuantes Motiv haben, und aus diesem Motiv durch inversionen andere Sätzen herleiten ... (Schubart, 1839 edn: 362).

While Mattheson wrote earlier in the eighteenth century that an aria was generally made up of six parts, the more expansive operatic forms of the late eighteenth century saw the six- part musical oration in dramma per musica relegated to secondi characters, whose arias were often of smaller scale and based on dance rhythms of the period. These types of arias were composed according to the rules governing the hierarchy of the genre (see Chapter I, page 23-24). Servilia’s aria from La clemenza di Tito is an aria of this kind, with a tempo marking of Tempo di Minuetto and constructed as a five-part oration. Again, as in Silvia’s cavatina from Ascanio, the exordium is an example of an insinuatio where the brief two bar instrumental introduction merges seamlessly into the vocal line (see ex. 3.8). A complete setting of the first quatrain can be seen in the exordium of this aria (see below).

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Ex. 3.8. La clemenza di Tito K. 621. Act 2, Scene 14. Aria of Servilia. Bars 1-6.

The rhetorical partitions of an oration in five and six parts can be strongly aligned with the musical structure of rounded binary form. Servilia’s aria is not only constructed in a circular periodic form - oratorically speaking, but also in a harmonic sense. The narratio modulates, ending the first half of the aria on a half close in the dominant tonality (see ex. 3.9), which includes a repetition of the second couplet of the opening quatrain.

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Ex. 3.9. La clemenza di Tito K. 621. Act 2, Scene 14. Aria of Servilia. Bars 7-16.

The confirmatio sees a brief return to the main tonality of the aria, modulating to the supertonic at the concluding section of this musical oration (see ex. 3.10). 125

Ex. 3.10. La clemenza di Tito K. 621. Act 2, Scene 14. Aria of Servilia. Bars 14-20.

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Since the confutatio was regarded as part of the central section of an oration (along with the confirmatio), this section of Servilia’s aria begins in the supertonic, before modulating to the dominant, as the aria continues its return to its home key and the peroratio (see ex. 3.11). The two central sections (the confirmatio and the confutatio) of this oration are a musical setting of the second quatrain of Metastasio’s text (see below).

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Ex. 3.11. La clemenza di Tito K. 621. Act 2, Scene 14. Aria of Servilia. Bars 20-28.

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The peroratio marks this aria’s return to the musical ideas stated previously in the exordium and narratio, which are now presented in the piece’s main tonality (see ex. 3.11). The symmetrical structure of the oration is evident in this example with a complete setting of the first quatrain of text forming the outer sections of the aria.

EXORDIUM EXORDIUM

S’altro che lacrime If shedding tears Per lui non tenti, Is all you do for him, Tutto il tuo piangere All your weeping Non gioverà. Will be of no avail.

NARRATIO NARRATION

Tutto il tuo piangere All your weeping Non gioverà. Will be of no avail.

CONFIRMATIO CONFIRMATION

A questa inutile Ah, this futile pity Pietà che senti, Which you feel,

CONFUTATIO CONFUTATION

Oh quanto è simile How similar it is La crudeltà. To cruelty.

PERORATIO PERORATION

S’altro che lacrime If shedding tears Per lui non tenti, Is all you do for him, Tutto il tuo piangere All your weeping Non gioverà. Will be of no avail.

Agenore’s final aria from Il rè pastore illustrates all the elements of a six-part musical oration. The opening ritornello of this aria forms the exordium in this case. The type of exordium presented here is described as a principium (introduction) by Cicero: ‘An

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introduction is an address which directly and in plain language makes the auditor well- disposed, receptive, and attentive/Principium est oratio perspicue et protinus perficiens auditorem benivolum aut docile aut attentum’ (Cicero trans. Hubbell, 1949: 42). The principal thematic and motivic material of the aria is stated in this section of Mozart’s oration, which concludes with a defined cadence on the dominant preparing the singer’s entry (see ex. 3.12).

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Ex. 3.12. Il rè pastore K.208. Act 2, Scene 10. Aria of Agenore. Bars 1-7.

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Agenore’s minor-mode aria modulates to the relative major at the commencement of the propositio, or ‘setting out from the key towards its ... third in minor ... ’, according to Augustus Kollmann (Kollmann, 1799: 5) (see ex. 3.13).

Ex. 3.13. Il rè pastore K.208. Act 2, Scene 10. Aria of Agenore. Bars 20-22.

In the confirmatio and confutatio, we can see Mozart’s use of one of the most striking features of the Classical music style – the surprise effect of alternating dynamics and textures, on which Daube writes: ‘This type [of contrast], when it occurs unexpectedly in a brilliant Allegro, and doesn’t last for long, sometimes receives much applause/Diese Art, wenn sie unvermuthet in einem brillanten Allegro vorkömmt, und nicht lange dauert, erhält zuweilen vielen Beyfall’ (Daube, 1773: 80). Daube continues on these elements, when he

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comments that this change in orchestral texture provides novelty and the unexpected to the listener (Parsonson, 1980: 29) (see ex. 3.14).

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Ex. 3.14. Il rè pastore K.208. Act 2, Scene 10. Aria of Agenore. Bars 48-60.

A short transitio (transition) passage leads the harmony of this aria from the subdominant to the tonic tonality, where the thematic material of the propositio now forms the peroratio. It is an unusual feature for Mozart not to repeat any musical material from the narratio in the peroratio, as he does in this aria, although the symmetrical setting of the text remains, with a complete musical setting of the first quatrain for the narratio and peroratio (see ex. 3.15 and below).

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Ex. 3.15. Il rè pastore K.208. Act 2, Scene 10. Aria of Agenore. Bars 82-90.

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EXORDIUM EXORDIUM

Instrumental ritornello Instrumental ritornello

NARRATIO NARRATION

Sol può dir come si trova The only one who can say Un amante in questo stato How a lover feels in this plight Qualche amante sfortunato Is some unfortunate swain Che lo prova al par di me. Who endures it like me.

PROPOSITIO PROPOSITION

Sol può dir come si trova The only one who can say Un amante in questo stato How a lover feels in this plight Qualche amante sfortunato Is some unfortunate swain Che lo prova al par di me. Who endures it like me.

(see ex. 3.13 for musical differentiation)

CONFIRMATIO CONFIRMATION

Un tormento è quel ch'io sento A torment is what I suffer, Più crudel d'ogni tormento, Crueller than any torment. È un tormento disperato, It is a desperate torment Che soffribile non è. Which is unbearable.

CONFUTATIO CONFUTATION

Che soffribile non è. Which is unbearable.

PERORATIO PERORATION

Sol può dir come si trova The only one who can say Un amante in questo stato How a lover feels in this plight Qualche amante sfortunato Is some unfortunate swain Che lo prova al par di me. Who endures it like me.

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The eight-part oration

During the 1760s, the aria with the structural form and tonal plan of the contemporary sonata or symphony began to emerge with greater prominence in the genre of dramma per musica. This process was gradual; at first this type of aria was given to secondi characters, but by the time Mozart came to compose Idomeneo, this form of aria was frequently given to the prima donna or primo uomo. An aria of this type was seen to be suitable for the expression of a single affect and the associated unified group of musical ideas (Ratner, 1980: 279).

Many composers of the late eighteenth century drew analogies between the divisions of an oration and the analysis of musical form. French composer, André-Ernest-Modeste Grétry (1741-1813) famously wrote that, ‘a sonata is an oration/une sonate est un discours’, in his Mémoires, ou Essais sur la musique (Grétry, 1797: Vol. 3, 356). In a passage suppressed from Allgemeine Geschichte and cited for the first time in Wordless Rhetoric by Mark Evan Bonds (1991), Forkel also made the comparison between sonata form and the rhetorical two- section structure of an oration:

As the first part of a sonata is ordinarily much shorter than the second, there is no true elaboration, fragmentation etc. in the first part; instead, it comprises, just as in the introduction to an oration, only a preliminary presentation and mention of the main intention and goal of a musical work. The second part, on the other hand, comprises: 1. The Hauptsatz transposed, or in the key of the dominant. 2. Fragmentation of the Hauptsatz. 3. Various doubts against it, along with a refutation and resolution of the same. 4. Yet another confirmation through the presentation of the Hauptsatz once again in varied form, as in a secondary key related to the tonic. 5. A conclusion that now moves to the tonic, just as the harmony had moved to the dominant in the first part. The movement now ends in this fashion.

Da der erste Theil einer Sonate gemeinglich viel kürtzer ist, als der zweyte, so findet im erstern Theile noch keine eigentl[iche] Ausarbeitung, noch keine Zergliederung u.s.f. statt, sondern er enthält gleichsam wie der Eingang einer Rede, eine vorläufige Darstellung und Erwähnung der Hauptabsicht und des Zweckes eines Tonstückes. Der zweyte Teil hingegen enthält: 1, Den Hauptsatz versetzt, oder in der Harmonie der Dominante. 2, Zergliederungen des Hauptsatzes. 3, Dagegen mögliche Zweifel, nebst Wiederlegung und Auflösung derselben. 4, Abermalige Bekräftigungen dadurch, dass der Hauptsatz wiederum in einer veränderten Gestalt, etwa in einer mit der Haupttonart verwandten Nebentonart vorgetragen wird. 5, Conclusion, die, so wie der erste Teil in die Harmonie der Dominante gieng, nun in der angenommenen

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Hauptton zurückgeht, und das Tonstück auf diese Weise endigt (Forkel quoted in Bonds, 1991: 221-222).

Using Gottsched’s Germanicised theoretical treatises as a model, each section of Forkel’s disposition of a musical oration is divided into four partitions: the exordium (introduction), Hauptsatz (main proposition), Nebensätze (secondary proposition) and the Gegensätze (contrasting proposition), which forms the opening section of the discourse; while the Zergliederungen (fragmentation), Widerlegungen (refutations), Bekräftigungen (confirmations) and Conclusion brings the oration to a close (Forkel, 1788: 66-68).

This type of aria structure is prevalent throughout Idomeneo, and a pertinent example is Ilia’s final aria from Act III of the opera. The exordium encompasses the opening ritornello of the aria, which states the main thematic material of the aria (see ex. 3.16).

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Ex. 3.16. Idomeneo, rè di Creta K.366. Act 3, Scene 1. Aria of Ilia. Bars 1-8.

The Hauptsatz announces the entry of the vocal line, which reiterates the material that has been previously presented in the exordium (see ex. 3.17). In an instrumental work in sonata 140

form, a conventional analysis would define this as the exposition. The text of the aria, constructed of two quatrains further consolidates the two-part rhetorical structure of an oration, which can then be evenly subdivided into couplets to strengthen Forkel’s eight-part musical structure (see below).

ILIA ILIA

Zeffiretti lusinghieri, Gently caressing zephyrs, Deh volate al mio tesoro: O fly to my beloved E gli dite, ch’io l’adoro And tell him that I adore him Che mi serbi il cor fedel. And to keep his heart faithful.

E voi piante, e fior sincere And you plants and tender flowers Che ora innaffia il pianto amaro, Which my bitter tears water, Dite a lui, che amor più raro Tell him that you never saw Mai vedeste sotto al ciel. A love more rare beneath the sky.

Ex. 3.17. Idomeneo, rè di Creta K.366. Act 3, Scene 1. Aria of Ilia. Bars 18-24.

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The setting of the first two lines of the aria’s text make up the Hauptsatz.

A modulation to the dominant sees the beginning of the Nebensätze (see ex. 3.18), which is a musical setting of the second couplet of the text.

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Ex. 3.18. Idomeneo, rè di Creta K.366. Act 3, Scene 1. Aria of Ilia. Bars 25-36.

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Continuing in the dominant, new thematic material is introduced with the commencement of the Gegensätze, thereby closing the first part of this oration (see ex. 3.19). This section of an aria of this type generally contains a complete repetition of the text up until this point.

Ex. 3.19. Idomeneo, rè di Creta K.366. Act 3, Scene 1. Aria of Ilia. Bars 37-41.

As in Forkel’s analysis of sonata form, the Zergliederungen of Ilia’s aria are based on the Hauptsatz and presented in the tonic minor (see ex. 3.20). This marks the beginning of the second part of Mozart’s oration and the musical setting of the second quatrain of text.

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Ex. 3.20. Idomeneo, rè di Creta K.366. Act 3, Scene 1. Aria of Ilia. Bars 61-66.

A feature of the Widerlegungen is the modulation from the tonic minor to that key’s mediant major (G major) before returning again to tonic minor (see ex. 3.21). The modulation heralds a setting of the final two lines of text. An augmented sixth chord (at bar 80) leads the aria back to its home key. The climatic effect of this chord brings about a clearly defined conclusion to this section of Mozart’s musical oration.

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Ex. 3.21. Idomeneo, rè di Creta K.366. Act 3, Scene 1. Aria of Ilia. Bars 67-81.

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The section termed Bekräftigungen by Forkel would nowadays be more commonly defined as the aria’s recapitulation. In this section, the Hauptsatz is repeated in full, while the material of the Nebensätze and Gegensätze is transposed to the main tonality and includes a repeated setting of the first quatrain of text. The closing instrumental ritornello forms the Conclusion.

Composite orations

Traditionally the most well-known type of aria associated with dramma per musica is the . Due to changing musical aesthetics during the 1760s, full da capo arias are rare in Mozart’s operas of this genre. It was far more common for Mozart to compose arias in dal segno form. This form of aria accommodated the continued expression of a ruling sentiment, while allowing the dramatic action to proceed more freely by eliminating the ‘static’ effect created by the full da capo aria; it omits a complete repetition of the opening ritornello and musical subjects of the vocal line (Ratner, 1980: 277). This could be seen as a result of the instrumental exordium becoming more complex with diverse musical subjects, in a similar style to that of the concerto, as the eighteenth century progressed. Therefore, the musical focus remains on the singer and the emotions of the protagonist. Koch provides a detailed description of both types of aria and their importance to dramma per musica in his Musikalisches Lexikon:

The poetry in such an aria heretofore comprised two sections, of which the first gave the general expression of the sentiment, the second a particular aspect of the sentiment. The musical setting has had, until the last quarter of the past century, a fixed form, from which no deviations were made. It consists, according to Sulzer’s description, of the following plan:

“First, the instruments play an introduction, called the ritornello, in which the main expressive quality of the aria is briefly presented; then the voice enters and sings the first part of the aria without a great deal of expansion; it then repeats the phrases and develops them [Koch’s footnote: “The modulation then turns to the dominant, or when the piece is in the minor, to the relative major, in which the first period closes.”], then the voice rests for some measures for the singer to take fresh breath. Meanwhile, the instruments play a short interlude in which the gist of the principal affect is repeated; working over the text of the first part, taking up essential elements of the ruling sentiment, and concludes the melody of the first part [Koch: “and in the principal key, in which the following ritornello will also close”]; the instruments, however, continue in order to emphasise the sentiment, and finally 147

close the first part of the aria. The second part is sung without the repetitions and working over that took place in the first part, with the instruments here and there underlining the expression during the short pauses for the voice. When the singer is finished the instruments enter again with a ritornello, after which the first part is repeated. This is the usual form of present-day arias”.

Die Poesie zu einer solchen Arie bestand ehedem jederzeit aus zwey Sätzen, von welchen einer die allgemeine Aeußerung der Empfindung, der andere aber einer besondere Wendung derselben enthielt. Die musikalische Einkleidung derselben hatte bis ohngefäbr gegn das letzte Viertel des verwichenen Jahrhunderts eine bestimmte Form, von der man nicht abwich. Sie bestehet nach Sulzers Beschreibung aus folgender Einrichtung:

“Zuerst machen die Instrumente ein Vorspiel, das Ritornell genannt, in welchem der Hauptausdruck der Arie kürzlich vorgetragen wird; hierauf trist die Singstimme ein, und singt den ersten Theil der Arie ohne große Ausdehnung ab; wiederholt hernach die Sätze und zergliedert sie; [Dabey wendet sich aber die Modulation zugleich nach der Tonart der Quinte, oder wenn die Arie in einer weichen Tonart gefeßt in, nach der Tonart der Terz bin, in welcher diese erste Periode schließt.], alsdenn ruht die Stimme etliche Takte lang, damit der Sänger wieder frei Athem holen könne. Während diese Zeit machen die Instrumente ein kurzes Zwischenspiel, in welchem die Hauptpunkte des Ausdruckes widerholt werden; hierauf fängt der Sänger wieder an, die Worte des ersten Theilsnoch einmal zu zergliedern, und halt sich vornehmlich bey dem Wesentlichen der Empfindung auf; alsdenn schließt er den Gesang des erstern Theils [und zwar in der Haupttonart, in welcher auch das darauf folgende Ritornell geschlossen wird]; die Instrumente aber fahren fort den Ausdruck immer mehr zu bekräftigen; und schließen endlich den ersten Theil der Arie. Der andere Theil wird hernach ohne das viele Wiederholen und Zergliedern, das im ersten Theile statt gehabt, hinter einander abgefangen, nur daß die Instrumente ab und zu, bey kurzen Pausen der Singstimme den Ausdruck mehr bekräftigen. Wenn der Sänger fertig ist, so machen die Instrumente wieder ein Ritornell, nach welchem der erste Theil der Arie noch einmal eben wie zuvor wiederholet wird. Dieses ist die allgemeine Form der heutigen Arien” (Sulzer quoted in Koch, 1802: column 156-157).

In both cases, these types of arias can be seen as multi-sectioned orations which contain multiple configurations of the rhetorical partitions.

While many eighteenth-century German music theorists were influenced by the contemporary rhetorical works of Gottsched, they continued to pay homage to the Classical texts on these concepts. Forkel offers the following commentary on the dispositio:

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... one of the main points in musical rhetoric and aesthetics is the ordering of musical ideas and the progression of sentiments expressed through them, so that these ideas are conveyed to our hearts with a certain coherence, just as the ideas in an oration are conveyed to our minds and follow one another according to logical principles. ... When ordered in an appropriate manner, these elements are thus to the language of sentiments the equivalent of that which in the language of ideas ... are the elements grounded in our nature still preserved by good orators – that is exordium, propositio, refutatio, confirmatio, etc.

Die Anordnung musikalischer Gedanken, und die Fortschreitung der durch sie ausgedrückten Empfindungen so daß sie unserm Herzen in einem gewissen Zusammenhange beygebracht werden, wie die in einer Rede enthaltenen, nach logischen Grundsäßen auf einander folgenden Ideen unserm Geiste ist daher ein hauptpunkt in der musikalischer Rhetorik und Aesthetik. ... wenn sie in eine gehörige Folge gestellt werden, in der Sprache der Empfindungen das sind, was in der Sprache der Ideen ... und von guten, ächten Redern noch immer beybehaltenen, auf unsere Natur gegründeten Exordien, Propositionen, Wiederlegungen, Bekräftigungen &c. (Forkel, 1783: 31-32).

This rhetorical approach is parallel to that adopted by Mattheson some 50 years earlier, when he analysed the disposition of a da capo aria by Benedetto Marcello (1686-1739) in Der vollkommene Capellmeister. The rhetorical divisions which Mattheson found in Marcello’s aria can equally be identified in an aria of this type by Mozart, where a complete cycle of the rhetorical partitions is made during the first section of the aria which are repeated in the da capo. In most cases, Mozart does not write out the da capo in full but notes Aria da capo al fine at the end aria’s central section.

The exordium and narratio of a Mozartian da capo or dal segno aria function in the accepted manner, in which the main musical subjects (or thematic material) to be expanded upon are presented in the opening lines of the text. Instead of a propositio, these arias feature a partitio (partition), which contains separately defined musical propositions (see exs. 3.22 and 3.23). In this section of a composition, the orator makes his entire speech clear and lucid; informing the listener on the points he intends to cover. Quintilian comments: ‘Partitio may be defined as the enumeration in order of our own propositions, those of our adversary or both. ... Besides, what can be simpler or clearer than a straightforward partitio? It follows nature as a guide and the adhesion to a definite method is actually of the

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greatest assistance to the speaker’s memory/Partitio est nostarum aut adversarii propositionum aut utrarumque ordine collocata enumeratio. ... Alioque quae tam manifesta et lucida est ratio quam rectae partitionis? Sequitur enim naturam ducem adeo ut memoriae id maximum sit auxilium via dicendi non decedere’ (Quintilian trans. Butler, 1921: 136).

The partitio is not only reflected by its clearly defined musical subjects, but also by reiterations of text. The first and second propositions can be seen in the final two couplets of the opening sestet. Hyacinthus’ antithetical sentiments regarding the gods are set to contrasting thematic material providing an expressive coherence in rhetorical style (see below).

HYACINTHUS HYACINTHUS

Saepe terrent Numina, Often the gods cause terror, Surgunt, et minantur, Rise up and threaten, Fingunt bella, quae nos angunt, Simulate wars which distress us, Mittunt tela, quae non tangunt, Shoot arrows that do not hit a mark; At post ficta nubila But after the imitation storms Rident et iocantur. They laugh and joke.

Et amore Both by love Et tremore And by trembling Gentea stringunt subditas: They coerce their subjects, Nunc amando, Now by loving, Nunc minando, Now by threatening, Salva stat auctoritas. Their authority stands secure.

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Ex. 3.22. Apollo et Hyacinthus K.38. Prologus. Aria of Hyacinthus. Bars 36-41. 1st propositio.

Ex. 3.23. Apollo et Hyacinthus K.38. Prologus. Aria of Hyacinthus. Bars 42-50. 2nd propositio.

The confirmatio sections of Mozart’s da capo and dal segno arias generally conform to the rhetorical structure described by Forkel (see above). In the following example from Apollo et Hyacinthus, the confirmatio is a straightforward restatement of the narratio in the dominant tonality (see exs. 3.24 and 3.25); while in another example from Lucio Silla, the confirmatio is again presented in the dominant, but is stated as a fragmentation of the thematic material from the narratio (see exs. 3.26 and 3.27).

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Ex. 3.24. Apollo et Hyacinthus K.38. Prologus. Aria of Hyacinthus. Bars 27-30. Principal subject of the narratio.

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Ex. 3.25. Apollo et Hyacinthus K.38. Prologus. Aria of Hyacinthus. Bars 60-71. Subject of the narratio restated in the confirmatio.

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Ex. 3.26. Lucio Silla K.135. Act 1, Scene 6. Aria of Silla. Bars 25-29. Principal subject of the narratio.

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Ex. 3.27. Lucio Silla K.135. Act 1, Scene 6. Aria of Silla. Bars 70-73. Principal subject of the confirmatio.

In most cases, the confutatio of these arias begins in the minor mode – either in the relative minor or the supertonic - before making its way back to the home tonality (see exs. 3.28 and 3.29). As the oratorical structure of the da capo and dal segno aria of the 1760s and 1770s emulates sonata form, this tonal plan can also be seen in the arias of this type of Mozart’s contemporaries – for example, Johann Christian Bach and Josef Mysliveček.

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Ex. 3.28. Apollo et Hyacinthus K.38. Prologus. Aria of Hyacinthus. Bars 78-84.

Ex. 3.29. Lucio Silla K.135. Act 1, Scene 6. Aria of Silla. Bars 74-77.

The musical ideas of the partitio in the da capo and dal segno aria follow the confutatio, often beginning in the subdominant before modulating to the tonic, which now forms the peroratio, thereby concluding the first part of the aria.

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The second part of these arias begins with a new narratio, which often takes the form of an apostrophe or aversio (for further discussion on these and subsequent rhetorical figures, see Chapter II ), as is evident from the text of this example from Lucio Silla.

SILLA SULLA

Il desio di vendetta, e di morte The desire for revenge and death Sì m’infiamma, e sì m’agita il petto, So inflames me and stirs my heart, Che in quest’alma ogni debole affetto That every rejected tender feeling Disprezzato si cangia in furor. Is transformed into rage within my heart.

Forse nel punto estremo Perhaps in the last moment Della fatal partita You will beg me for your life, Mi chiederai la vita, But your tears Ma sarà il pianto inutile, Will be in vain Inutile il dolor. In vain will be your sorrow.

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Analysis of the text, rhetorical structure and tonality of Silla’s aria ‘Il desio di vendetta’ from Lucio Silla K.135

Dispositio Text repetitons Tonality/Mode

Exordium Introductory ritornello D major - tonic Il desio di vendetta, e di Narratio morte D major - tonic Sì m’infiamma, e sì m’agita il petto Che in quest’alma ogni Partito – first propositio debole affetto A major - dominant Disprezzato si cangia in furor. Che in quest’alma ogni Partito – second propositio debole affetto A major - dominant Disprezzato si cangia in furor.

Confirmatio Il desio di vendetta, e di A major - dominant morte

Confutatio Sì m’infiamma, e sì m’agita il E minor – supertonic petto modulating to D major - tonic Il desio di vendetta, e di Peroratio morte G major subdominant Sì m’infiamma, e sì m’agita il modulating to D major - petto, Che in quest’alma ogni tonic debole affetto Disprezzato si cangia in furor.

The above analysis reveals symmetry in Mozart’s setting of the text. A single setting of the first quatrain of Silla’s aria comprises the beginning and conclusion of the first section of the aria, while consecutive settings of the quatrain’s couplets form the central divisions of this musical oration.

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Mattheson writes that the middle section of a da capo aria should demonstrate elements belonging to a variety of rhetorical figures (see Chapter II) and be a showcase for these figures of speech.

In the dal segno aria, Mozart generally composes a short transitio passage to lead the listener back to the first section of the aria (see ex. 3.30), where the confutatio and peroratio are repeated.

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Ex. 3.30. Lucio Silla K.135. Act 1, Scene 6. Aria of Silla. Bars 135-145.

During the latter years of Mozart’s life, it was becoming common for arias of this period to be composed according to a wide variety of musical forms, while still retaining their rhetorical structure. These arias were often through-composed without a recapitulation. Koch says of this development in vocal composition:

Since the power of custom required that this form [the aria] also be used in texts wherein the second part was better suited to expansion and working over than the first ... and where repetition of the entire first part would be unsuitable and boring ... lately ... this form has been altered so that the second part constitutes a separate period and only the first line of the first part is repeated, the aria nowadays is usually composed in two sections ... Generally, the first section is composed in a slow or moderate tempo, the second in a quick tempo.

Weil aber die Macht der Gewohnheit veranlaßte, daß man sich dieser Form auch bey solchen Texten bediente, bey welchen der Inhalt des zweyten Theils zur Ausdehnung und Zergliederung schicklischer war, als der erste, und weil die Widerholung des ganzen ersten Theils bey vielen Texten zweckwisdrig, und überhaupt, bey allen Arien angebracht, nothwendig langweilig werden mußte, ... diese Form dergesalt abgeändert, daß der zweyte Satz, ebenfalls ausgeführt und zergliedert, eine Periode

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erhält, und daß anstatt der Wiederholung des ganzen ersten Theils, der erste Satz des Textes in der leßten Periode der Arie nachmals durchgeführet wird. ... Gemeinglich wird der erste dieser Sätze in einer langsamen oder mäßigen, der zweyte aber in einer geschwindern Bewegung vorgetragen (Koch, 1802: column 161-162).

Often, arias of this type contained a small scale exordium to open each contrasting section. This is particularly evident in the famous aria ‘Parto, parto’ from La clemenza di Tito, which is in tripartite form and features three separate introductory ritornelli for each section (see exs. 3.31-3.33).

Ex. 3.31. La clemenza di Tito K.621. Act 1, Scene 9. Aria of Sesto. Bars 1-3. 1st exordium.

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Ex. 3.32. La clemenza di Tito K. 621. Act 1, Scene 9. Aria of Sesto. Bars 44-49. 2nd exordium.

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Ex. 3.33. La clemenza di Tito K. 621. Act 1, Scene 9. Aria of Sesto. Bars 96-99. 3rd exordium.

The vital importance of the rhetorical disposition to musical composition can be understood in the succinct summing up by Burmeister, who wrote: ‘ ... so we must conclude that there is only little difference between music and the nature of oration’ (Burmeister quoted in Bartel, 1997: 57). If this position was true of the early seventeenth century, it may be seen to be equally valid in regard to the operatic musical forms of the late eighteenth century; this link between music and rhetoric could transcend changes in musical style over a period of 200 years. In the 1780’s, the Comte de Lacépède says the dispositio of an aria permits the poetry and music to function together as a poetic whole (Ranum, 2001: 97). To ensure that this balanced and eloquent structure could be conveyed to the audience, Mozart and his contemporaries affectively selected the emotive characteristics attributed to key or mode, tempo and harmonic inflection to further enhance the expression of the passions in the operatic genre of dramma per musica.

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Chapter IV

Expression of the affections through modes, tempo and harmonic inflection: a case study of these concepts in Il rè pastore

Theory of modes and keys

After returning to Salzburg from Munich on 7 March 1775, and following the success of the dramma giocoso, K.196, another commission was awaiting Mozart. The youngest son of Holy Roman Empress Maria Theresa, Archduke Maximilian (1756-1801) was to be a guest of Archbishop Hieronymus Josef Franz de Paula, Count Colloredo (1732-1812) at the end of April, as he returned to Vienna from Paris, where he had been visiting his sister, Marie Antoinette (1755-1793). Mozart had six weeks to compose Il rè pastore, with the libretto being chosen by the Archbishop and his advisers (Osborne, 1986: 105).

Archbishop Colloredo was keen to stage first class entertainment for the Archduke’s visit, and to provide for this he engaged two musicians from nearby Munich; the castrato, Tommaso Consoli, who created the role of Aminta, and flautist Johann Baptist Becke for the orchestra. While no other cast list is extant, it is regarded as highly likely that the role of Elisa was sung by Maria Magdalena Haydn née Lipp (1745-1827), the wife of Michael Haydn (1737-1806), who was then Konzertmeister of the Salzburg court orchestra. She had created the role of Rosina in Mozart’s first dramma giocoso of 1769, K.51 (Osborne, 1986: 35).

The libretto of Il rè pastore was by the incomparable Metastasio, and had been re-set numerous times, since the first setting by Giuseppe Bonno (1711-1788), the Kapellmeister to the Imperial Court in Vienna. Metastasio considered Il rè pastore one of his finest libretti. He wrote on completing it in 1751: ‘I have not written any of my other works with such facility, and I feel much less ashamed of this one./Non ho mai scritto alcuna delle mie opere con facilità uguale e della quale io abbia meno arrossito’ (Metastasio quoted in Osborne, 1986: 106).

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Unlike the plots of most of Metastasio’s other drammi per musica, which are based on heroic and political intrigue, Il rè pastore deals with the Enlightened, Rousseauvian predilection for the virtues of a simple life. The drama takes place in an Arcadian setting, and the central theme is the idea of reforming and humanising an ossified social order through the virtues of the heart, where the drama springs from the misunderstandings that result when two different worlds are brought into conflict (Fürstauer, 1996: 15).

For Mozart’s setting, the work was substantially revised, with the original second and third acts being compressed into a single act, probably to accommodate the reduced musical forces at the Archiepiscopal Court. These revisions are believed to be the work of the Archbishop’s chaplain, Abbate Varesco, who was to write the libretto of Idomeneo. In a letter to Padre Giovanni Battista Martini (1706-1784) of 4 September 1776, Leopold writes on his son’s behalf: ‘As for the theatre we are in a bad way for lack of singers. We have no castrati, and we shall never have them, because they insist on being handsomely paid; and generosity is not one of our faults/Per il teatro stiamo male per mancanza dei recitanti. Non abbiamo Musici e non gli averemo si facilmente, giache vogliono esser ben pagati: e la generosità, non è il nostro difetto’ (L. Mozart trans. Anderson, 1985 edn: 266).

The work is described as a cantata in Archduke Maximilian’s travel journal, whereas Salzburg diarist Joachim Ferdinand von Schiedenhofen (1747-1823) calls it a serenata. The serenata shared important features with other larger-scale vocal compositions of the period. Like the cantata, the serenata was usually an entertainment given at court before an invited audience. Occasions which called for serenatas to be performed were namedays, weddings, annual celebrations and in the case of Il rè pastore – official visits (Talbot. ‘Serenata.’ Grove Music Online). Il rè pastore was performed before the Imperial visitor to Salzburg on 23 April 1775 (Osborne, 1986: 105).

The work illustrates the contrast between the pastoral world and that of the courts, which makes Il rè pastore an ideal case study through which to investigate eighteenth-century opinion on the affective attributes of keys or modes, tempo and the associated harmonic context. Most of the arias in this work are of the simile type and paint a vivid image of

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nature (Strohm, 1997: 273-274), allowing for the emotions to be expressed through tonality, tempo and harmony.

As outlined in previous chapters, composers of the eighteenth century made a conscious effort to embody the musical modes of the Ancient Greeks and the emotions associated with each. Working with eighteenth-century equivalents of classical forms, musicians related the ancient musical modes with the expression of the passions and the art of rhetoric as they strove to ‘imitate nature’.

Aristotle uses the term energeia (‘feeling pattern’) to denote the guiding ‘force’ that propels the rhetorical act of persuasion. Energeia was viewed as being in one’s soul. In her study of rhetoric in seventeenth-century song, Patricia Ranum argues that as the act of persuasion is an interactive one, the orator and listeners must have identical energeia if persuasion is to take place (Ranum, 2001: 318-322). Seventeenth- and eighteenth-century composers drew on this concept, which refers back to antiquity to express emotion through modes and impart dramatic colour to their works. Aristotle writes in Politics:

With musical compositions, however, the case is different. They involve representations of states of character themselves. This is an evident fact. In the first place, the nature of the modes varies; and listeners will be differently affected as they listen to different modes. The effect of some will be to produce a sadder and graver temperament; this is the case, for example, with the mode called the Mixolydian. The effect of others (such as the soft modes) is to relax the tone of the mind. Another mode is specifically calculated to produce a moderate and collected temperament; this is held to be the peculiar power of the Dorian mode, while the Phrygian mode is held to give inspiration and fire. Those who have studied this kind of education do well to make these points, for the evidence by which they support their theories is derived from actual facts (Book 8: Ch. 5, Aristotle trans. Barker, 1995: 309-310).

The inherent expressive qualities of each mode, such as these, and the debt to the Ancient Greek pedigree were acknowledged by seventeenth and eighteenth-century writers, although the affects Aristotle associated with each mode do not seem to have directly translated to later centuries, becoming a system of major and minor scales with different expressive qualities based on the renaissance notion of ‘hard, soft and natural’ hexachords.

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For example, in Synopsis musicae (1630) by German composer and theorist Johannes Crüger (1598-1662), modes are grouped by their species of triad, to which their affective quality is ascribed. Crüger asserts that each mode follows the ‘nature of its fundamental triad/naturam radicis unitrisonae’ and is therefore distinguished from each other. Crüger groups the Ionian, Lydian and Mixolydian modes together as having a vigorous and cheerful quality (note the contradiction to Aristotle’s description above of Mixolydian mode), while Dorian, Aeolian and Phrygian modes are characterised as sad and serious (Powers et al. ‘Mode.’ Grove Music Online). Dr Burney also expresses a reluctance to accept the direct mode-emotion link which Aristotle confidently asserts in A General History of Music (1776- 1789):

But such miraculous powers have been attributed to the modes in ancient music, that it must be confessed there is nothing so difficult as to imagine they could have been produced by a mere transposition of the scale to a different pitch, while the intervals remained the same, ... Heraclides of Pontus, in Athanaeus, lib. xiv. P. 614, describing what he calls the three most ancient modes, says ‘the Dorian is grave and magnificent, neither too diffuse, gay, nor varied; but severe and vehement. The Aeolian is grand and pompous, through sometimes soothing, as it is used for the breaking of horses, and the reception of guests; and it has likewise an air of simplicity and confidence, suitable to pleasure, love, and good cheer. Lastly, the ancient Ionian is neither brilliant nor effeminate, but rough and austere; with some degree, however, of elevation, force, and energy’ (Burney, 1935 edn: 61-62).

Nonetheless the association between choice of mode and emotion continued to be observed through subsequent ages. During the Renaissance, when new humanistic studies were being made of the ancient sources, the original Greek descriptions of the modes again became influential. It was not until the mid-sixteenth century that tonality began to emerge from modality with the recognition that modes were of two basic types that were determined by the quality of the third. Italian theorist Gioseffo Zarlino distinguishes between modi laetiores (joyful modes), which use the major third and modi tristiores (sad modes), which adopt the minor third in Le institutioni harmoniche of 1558 (Steblin, 1983: 36, 47).

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Baroque theorists recommended the careful choice of mode or key when setting a text to music. Treatises of the period often express a certain character of a mode without limiting its use to a specific affection. A reference such as this to a mode’s character allowed for a wider spectrum of application and reception, therefore providing room for key characteristics to be linked to an individual’s temperamental disposition rather than being allocated to purely expressive attributes (Bartel, 1997: 44-45). Mattheson makes the point that his suggestions regarding the expressive nature of keys were based on his own personal interpretations:

... allowing everyone complete freedom to construct a better arrangement according to their own sentiment, being fully aware that although they may seem satisfactory, they will not necessarily find favour with everyone else. ... the more one wishes to clarify the matter, the more contradictory it becomes. For the opinions regarding this matter are innumerable. I can only explain this on the basis of the human temperaments which must undoubtedly be the main cause for a certain mode to seem merry and lively to the sanguine temperament but troubled and sorrowful to the phlegmatic one. For that reason we will not dwell on this any longer, but allow each one the freedom to ascribe certain qualities to the modes according to his own disposition.

... dabey zugleich einem jeden seine völlige Freyheit lassen/nach seinem Sentiment eine andere und bessere Einrichtung hieren zu machen/von welcher er sich doch auch/wenn sie gleich noch so vilkommen/nicht wird versprechen können/daß sie bey allen und jeden Ingress finden werde. ... Allein je mehr man sich bestreben wolte/etwas positives davon zu statuiren/je mehr contradicentes würde sich vielleicht finden/sintemahl die Meinungen in dieser Materie fast unzehlig sind/davon ich keine andere Raison, als den Unterscheid der Menschlichen Complexionen zu geben weiß/als wodurch es Zweifels frey hauptsächlich geschehen mag/daß ein Tohn/der einem Sanguinischen Temperament lustig und ermunternd scheinet/einem Phlegmatischen träge/kläglich und betrübt vorkommt/u.s.w. derowegen wir uns hierbey auch nicht länger auffhalten/sondern einem jeden nochmals die Freyheit gerne lassen wollen/ daß er einem oder andern Tohn solche Eigenschafften beylege/die mit seiner natürlichen Zuneigung am besten übereinkommen/da man den finden wird (Mattheson, 1713: 231).

Rameau asserted that sentiments are linked to different modes, while La Borde compiled a synthesis of the characteristic ambiances of modes. Having compared the characters that the authors of antiquity associated with each mode with those of ‘modern music’, La Borde concluded that the emotions expressed by the Ancient Greek modes corresponded to the 168

sentiment of eighteenth-century modes, which, he says remained unchanged for more than two thousand years (Ranum, 2001: 323). This continued acknowledgment of the modal system of Ancient Greece remained uninterrupted into the eighteenth century, even after the final transition of modes into the concept of keys and tonality, as can be seen in the comments above. From the sixteenth-century, the theory of the 12 modes was enthusiastically taken up by theorists and composers of the seventeenth century, and by the early eighteenth century, theorists such as Mattheson incorporated the system of 24 major and minor keys into the 12 modes in his Das neu-eröffnete Orchestre of 1713. Mattheson asserts that the 12 semitones of the chromatic octave could be differentiated by their thirds through which the 24 major and minor keys are derived (Powers et al. ‘Mode.’ Grove Music Online). This was the theory with which, we may expect, La Borde, Mozart and other composers of the later eighteenth century were familiar.

The characteristics of modes and keys remained a subject of continued discussion during the eighteenth century, as treatises of the period reveal. The second half of the century saw comparisons being made between the emotional affect found in musical modes and an analogous technique in the visual arts called Ton der Farben (Tone colour). Forkel discusses this in his essay Über die Theorie der Musik: ‘If the keys are to music what the so-called Tuono di colore [Tone colour] is to painting then it is easy to accept that their use for the expression of this or that feeling must be as carefully chosen as the tone of colour in painting. Often the whole effect of a composition is only attributed to the lucky, perhaps haphazard choice of key./Wenn die Tonarten in der Musik das sind, was sogenante Tuono di colore in der Malerey ist, so läßt sich leicht abnehmen, daß ihr Gebrauch zum Ausdruck dieser oder jener Empfindung eben so vorsichtig bestimmt werden muß, wie der Ton der Farbe in der Malerey. Bloß einer glücklichen, vielleicht zufälligen Wahl dieses Tons ist oft die ganze Wirkung eines stücks zuzuschreiben’ (Forkel, 1777: 30-31). Kirnberger’s article Ton (Mahlerey) in Allgemeine Theorie by Sulzer shares Forkel’s view. Kirnberger comments: ‘For, just as in music one key is distinguished from the others by a moral or passionate quality, one being more severe, serious, wild, another being tender, pleasant, gentle, so this applies also to colour-mixture./Denn wie in der Musik eine Tonart von der andern sich ebenfalls durch etwas Sittliches oder Leidenschafliches unterscheidet, indem eine streng, ernsthaft,

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wild, eine andre sanft, gefällig, zärtlich ist, so ist es auch in der Farbenmischung’ (Kirnberger cited in Sulzer, 1774: Vol. 2, 1161).

As one of the most famous pedagogues of the late eighteenth century, Leopold Mozart poses a series of rhetorical questions in his discussion on major and minor keys in his Violinschule:

Even if all the modern keys seem to be constructed only from the scales of C major and a minor ... how is it that a piece which, for example, is transposed from F to G, never sounds as pleasant and has a totally different effect on the emotions of the listener? And how is it that a well-practised musician, on hearing a composition, can instantly specify the key note, if [the keys] are not different [in character]?

Und wenn gleich alle die heutigen Tongattungen nur aus der Tonleiter (C) Dur und (A) moll versetzet zu seyn scheinen; ja wirklich durch Hinzusetzung der (be) und (kreuz) erst gebildet werden; woher kömmt es denn, daß ein Stück, welches z. E. Vom (F) ins (G) übersetzet wird, nimmer so angenehm läßt, und eine ganz andere Wirkung in dem Gemüthe der Zuhörer verursachet? Und woher kömmt es denn, daß ein wohlgeübter Musikus bey Anhörung einer Musik augenblicklich ein Ton derselben anzugeben weis, wenn sie nicht unterschieden sind? (L. Mozart, 1756: 59)

Another theory growing in popularity at this time was the association of ‘harshness’ or ‘softness’ with the number of sharps or flats in a key signature. Not that this idea was a new one by the mid-eighteenth century. French composers at the turn of the century were already grouping modes together by accidental type and their associated affective characteristic, which was derived from the hexachord system as practised by composers of sixteenth-century polyphony and transmitted to seventeenth-century composers of polyphony and monody (Hughes, 1980: Vol. 17, 459). This was seen as an obvious way musicians could deduce the general ambience they were expected to express in a particular piece. For example, flats in a key signature indicated gentle and introspective emotions, while sharps conveyed more assertive and outgoing sentiments: a method of organising the expression of emotional contrasts with its roots in the earlier hexachord system. The result being that the more flats or sharps there are in a key signature, the stronger the passion being expressed. By the mid-eigtheenth century, this idea of key association was a well established principle, with identifiable expressive characteristics assigned to different keys on this basis. Rousseau explains in his article Ton in Diderot’s Encyclopédie:

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Do you want something, grave, majestic? F ut fa [F major] and all major keys [tons] with flats will express it nobly. Do you want to animate the listener by gay and brilliant music? Choose A mi la major [A major] or D la re [D major] – in a word, the sharped major keys. C sol ut minor [c minor] brings tenderness to the soul, F ut fa minor [f minor] takes one all the way to the lugubrious and to despair. In a word, each key [ton], each mode has its individual expression that one must know how to recognise. And this is one of the manners in which an able composer, in a way, becomes master of the affections of those who are listening.

Faut-il du grave, du majestueux? L’f-ut-fa, et tous les tons majeurs par bémol l’exprimeront noblement. Veut-on animer l’auditeur par une musique gaie et brillante, prenez a-mi-la majeur, d-la-ré, en un mot, les tons majeurs par dièse. C-sol- ut mineur porte la tendresse dans l’ame, f-ut-fa mineur va jusqu’au lugubre et au désepoir. En un mot, chaque ton, chaque mode a son expression propre qu’il faut savoir connoître; et c’est-là un des moyens qui rendent un habile compositeur, maître en quelque maniere des affections de ceux qui l’écoutent (Rousseau quoted in Diderot, 1751: 827).

In all of the above discussions, the issue of unequal temperament and the tuning of woodwind and brass instruments are not explicitly discussed, although it clearly played a role in the choice of keys for particular affects (see below).

In summary, modes become increasingly brighter and more exuberant as the number of sharps in their key signature rise, while flattened modes become more self-absorbed and gloomy as the number of flats in the key signature increase (Ranum, 2001: 339, 341). Due to the indebtedness of eighteenth-century composers to the hexachord system of previous generations, the introduction of sharps and flats within a specific tonal framework would convey similar emotional messages as the overall tonality of the piece in question.

Music theorists also paid increasing attention to the physical factors that contributed to the affective qualities of individual modes, for example, the acoustical properties of orchestral instruments. Koch brings a violinist’s perspective to this argument in Versuch einer Anleitung zur Composition (1782-1793):

[The] individuality or difference between transposed keys is, of all instruments, most noticeable on the violin. This instrument shows most markedly that this key is sharper [scharf], that key softer [schmeidig], that one key corresponds more to the expression of joy, another more to sorrow. For example, f minor is far more suited 171

than a minor or e minor to arouse deep sorrow or to express the sounds of lament. Likewise A major, as a very sharp key, is more suited than F major to express a feeling of intensity etc. Therefore, those keys which are especially suited to the character of gentleness are used to set gentle feelings; on the other hand, those keys whose inner characters are sharper and more biting are required for intense feelings.

Dieses Eigenthümliche, oder der Unterschied dieser versezten Tonarten ist unter allen Instrumenten auf der Violine am merklichsten. Dieses Instrument zeigt es am fühlbaresten, daß diese oder jene Tonart schärfer, eine andere schmeidiger ist; daß eine mehr dem Ausdrucke der Freude, eine andere mehr dem Ausdrucke der Traurigkeit entspricht. So ist z. B. Die Tonart f moll zur Erweckung einer tiefen Traurigkeit, oder zum Tone der Klage weit schicklicher als die Tonart a oder e moll; und eben so ist die Tonart a dur, als ein sehr scharfer Ton zum Ausdrucke einer Empfindung die sich mit Heftigkeit äussert schicklicher, als f dur, u. s. w. Daher bedienet man sich bey der Bearbeitung sanfter Empfindungen hingegen braucht man solche, die ihrem inner Character gemäß schärfer und schneidender sind (Koch, 1787: 171-172).

F. G. Drewis writes of this phenomenon in regards to the other instruments of the orchestra in Freundschaftliche Briefe Über die Theorie der Tonkunst und Composition (1797):

Many instruments are not at all or only a little practicable in many keys, If tympani and trumpets are tuned too high or too low they are not only lose a great deal of their strength and effect, but also are in danger of bursting. Bassoons are excellent only in flat keys, flutes and oboes likewise in [sharp] keys. Clarinets play only in B- flat, C, and E-flat majors; almost as limited is the use of horns.

Viele Instrumente sind auch in mancher Tonleiter gar nicht, oder doch nur wenig brauchbar. Die Pauken und Trompeten verlieren nicht allein viel von ihrer Kraft und Wirkung, wenn sie zu hoch oder niedrig gestimmt werden, sondern riskiren auch wol zu zerspringen. Die Fagots sind vorzüglich nur bey den Tönen, die be Vorzeichnung, so wie Flöten und Hoboen bey denen zu gebrauchen, die [sic] Vorzeichnung haben; die Clarinetts spielen nie anders als aus b c und es dur; fast eben so eingeschränkt ist auch der Gebrauch der hörner (Drewis, 1797: 15).

On the other hand, Avison discusses the expressive attributes of individual instruments in Essay on Musical Expression, although he does not extensively investigate the link between an instrument’s tone colour and choice of mode:

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He [the composer] should also minutely observe different qualities of the instruments themselves; ... different instruments have also a different expression peculiar to them. Thus, the hautboy will best express the cantabile, or singing style, and may be used in all movements whatever under this denomination; ... In compositions for the German flute, is required the same method of proceeding by conjoint degrees, or such other natural intervals, as, with the nature of its tone, will best express the languishing, or melancholy style. With both these instruments, the running into extreme keys, ... must be avoided. The bassoon should also have those gradual movements which naturally glide in their divisions, and have the easiest transitions from one key to another; ... The trumpet and French-horn, though equally limited in their scale, yet have pieces of very different styles adapted to them. The one, perhaps, to animate and inspire courage; the other to enliven the chear [sic] the spirits; ... (Avison, 1775 edn: 98-100).

Probably the most influential summary of late eighteenth-century thinking on the affective characteristics of modes or keys was by Christian Friedrich Daniel Schubart in his widely read Ideen. The emotive and highly charged images which Schubart developed for each key were especially appealing to Enlightenment thinking and had enormous impact on subsequent key descriptions. Beethoven and Schumann were amongst the nineteenth- century composers who commented on Schubart’s views, due to the significance of his opinions, as they could be seen retrospectively in regard to the most admired composers of the late eighteenth century, . Schubart’s account of key characteristics is the most closely aligned to Mozart’s use of their associated affective purpose. Schubart’s introduction to the chapter Charakteristik der Töne (Characteristics of the Keys) confirms his use of the flat-sharp dichotomy and analogies with the concept of Ton Farben: ‘Every key is either coloured or uncoloured. Innocence and simplicity are expressed by uncoloured keys. Tender and melancholy feelings [are expressed] by flat keys; wild and strong passions by sharp keys./Jeder Ton ist entweder gefärbt, oder nicht gefärbt. Unschuld und Einfalt drückt man mit ungefärbten Tönen aus. Sanfte, melancholische Gefühle, mit B Tönen; wilde und starke Leidenschaften, mit Kreuztönen’ (Schubart, 1839 edn: 381).

This expression of emotion through key choice can be seen in all of Mozart’s operatic works, but it is especially highlighted in Il rè pastore where (as noted above) the sentiments, in most cases, are expressed by the text in metaphorical terms in a series of simile arias.

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Il rè pastore: a case study

Emotional content of keys

The selection of key for the individual numbers of Il rè pastore was one of a variety of expressive and rhetorical resources available to Mozart, allowing him to evoke the diverse emotional states of the drama.

The sinfonia of an eighteenth-century dramma per musica was often linked to the sujet (subject) of the drama to follow; and as such the key, mode, instrumentation, metre and form or dispositio of sinfonias could become vehicles of dramatic meaning, just as much as, or to a greater extent than thematic material. The sinfonia could also allude to the ethos and dignity of the main characters and express a generalised image of important subject matter (Strohm, 1997: 240, 246). This is certainly the case for the sinfonia of Il rè pastore. Mozart uses the one-movement sinfonia to convey the pastoral setting of the ensuing drama and the ethos of the primo uomo, Aminta – the ‘shepherd king’ of the title, and the benevolence of the secondo uomo, Alexander the Great. Mozart reflects these ideas through his choice of key for the sinfonia. Many theorists of the period point to the ‘pure’ quality of C major. Schubart writes in Ideen: ‘C major is completely pure. Its character is: innocence, simplicity, naivety, children’s talk./C-Dur ist ganz rein. Sein Charakter heißt: Unschuld, Einfalt, Naivität, Kindersprache’ (Schubart, 1839 edn: 381). The ‘purity’ of C major can also be related to the natural hexachord, as well as having a pure or nearly pure third in every seventeenth and eighteenth century tuning system.

German physician and flautist, Justus Johannes Heinrich Ribock (1743-c1785) emphasises the pastoral associations of C major in his description of the key, which was published in the Magazin der Musik, edited by Carl Freidrich Cramer (1752-1807): ‘C major is perhaps serviceable for every affect, but will not express one that is very strong and marked; it is not very noble, but also not at all vulgar. It looks like lilacs and smells of stock-plants./C-dur ist vielleicht zu jedem Affecte brauchbar, wird aber keinen gar stark und markirt ausdrücken; ist nicht sehr edel, aber auch gar nicht gemein. Es sieht aus wie Lilla, und riecht nach Leucojen’ (Ribock cited in Cramer, 1783: Vol. I, 706-709).

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The sinfonia of Il rè pastore imperceptibly glides into the serenata’s first aria, by way of a transitio passage, and therefore remains in C major. The text reflects the affective qualities of the key (see ex. 4.1).

AMINTA AMYNTAS

Intendo amico rio I understand, o friendly stream, Quel basso mormorio: That low murmuring, Tu chiedi, in tua favella, You are asking in your language Il nostro ben dov’è? Where our beloved is.

Ex. 4.1. Il rè pastore K.208. Act 1, Scene 1. Aria of Aminta.

The noble nymph from Phoenicia, Elisa, expresses a desire for the simplicity of a shepherd’s life in Aria no. 2 (see ex. 4.2). The text of this aria is a statement of Enlightenment philosophical thought – the importance of returning to nature. This ideal is reflected in Schubart’s description of G major in Ideen: ‘G major. Everything rustic, idyllic and lyrical, every calm and satisfied passion, every tender gratitude for true friendship and faithful love, - in a word, every gentle and peaceful emotion of the heart is correctly expressed by this key. What a pity that because of its seeming lightness it is so greatly neglected nowadays. ... /G-Dur. Alles Ländliche, Idyllen-und Ekogenmäßige, jede ruhige und befriedigte Leidenschaft, jeder zärtliche Dank für aufrichtige Freundschaft und treue Liebe, - mit einem Worte, jede sanfte und ruhige Bewegung des Herzens läßt sich trefflich in diesem Tone ausdrücken. Schade! daß er wegen seiner anscheinenden Leichtigkeit heutzutage so sehr vornachlässigt wird ... (Schubart, 1839 edn: 384).

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ELISA ELISA

Alla selva, al prato, al fonte, To the forest, to the meadow, to the spring, Io n’andrò col gregge amato; I shall go with the beloved flock, E alla selva, al fonte, al prato And to the forest, to the spring, to the meadow, L’idol mio con me verrà. My idol will come with me.

In quel rozzo angusto tetto, In that cramped, rough hut Che ricetto a noi darà, Which will give us shelter, Con la gioia e col diletto With joy and delight L’innocenza albergherà. Innocence will dwell.

Ex. 4.2. Il rè pastore K.208. Act 1, Scene 1. Aria of Elisa.

Aminta also expresses his contentment with the simple, country life in Aria no. 3 (see ex. 4.3). The positivity of B-flat major is described by Schubart thus: ‘Cheerful love, clear conscience, hope, aspiration for a better world./B-Dur, heitere Liebe, guten Gewissen, Hoffnung, Hinsehnen nach einer bessern Welt’ (Schubart, 1839 edn: 381).

AMINTA AMYNTAS

Aer tranquillo e dì sereni, Tranquil air and serene days, Freschi fonte, e verdi prati Cool springs and green meadows Sono i voti fortunati, Are the fortunate wishes Della greggia e del pastor. Of flock and shepherd.

Che se poi picasse ai fati And if it should please the Fates Di cambiar gl’offici miei, So to change my duties, Avran cura allora i Dei Then the gods will take care Di cambiarmi e mente e cor. To change my mind and heart.

Ex. 4.3. Il rè pastore K.208. Act 1, Scene 2. Aria of Aminta.

Mozart’s scoring for oboes and horns, in addition to the strings in these two arias adds to the pastoral atmosphere. The bright timbre of horns in G and B-flat major was often used by Mozart to express rural jollification, even in his later operas, like Le Nozze di Figaro and Don 176

Giovanni. Avison writes in Essay on Musical Expression that oboes are suited ‘... especially those movements which tend to the gay and chearful [sic]’ (Avison, 1775 edn: 99). This character is further reinforced by these arias’ tempo and metre (see below).

Despite Mozart’s unfavourable opinions of composer and theorist Georg Joseph Vogler, in his use of keys, at least, Mozart may be seen to share some overall concepts. Vogler’s description of D major in the Deutsche Encyclopädie (1779) is the most closely associated to Mozart’s use of the key in Alessandro’s first aria in Il rè pastore (see ex. 4.4), in which Alessandro (Alexander the Great) likens his benevolence to the emergence of the sun after a storm. Abbé Vogler writes that ‘D [major] enflames the heart ... now the whole body is enlivened; the spirit wallows in heroic deeds. ... /Das D wirft Feuer in die Herzen ... nun wird der ganze Körper belebt, der Geist schwimmt in Heldentaten ... ‘ (Vogler quoted in Steblin, 1983: 169).

ALESSANDRO ALEXANDER

Si spande al sole in faccia Sometimes a storm-cloud stretches Nube talor così, Over the face of the sun, E folgora, e minaccia And lightens, threatening, Su l’arido terren. Upon the arid ground.

Ma poi, che in quella foggia But when in that form Assai d’umori unì, Enough moisture has collected, Tutta si scioglie in poggia, It all falls as rain E gli feconda il sen. And fertilises the earth’s womb.

Ex. 4.4. Il rè pastore K.208. Act 1, Scene 3. Aria of Alessandro.

Trumpets are added to the aria’s scoring for oboes, horns and strings. It could be said that trumpets are the sonic representative of a sovereign’s absolute authority (Jacobs, 2006: 48). Avison writes that horns and trumpets ‘when fully accompanied [in an orchestral setting], produce more wonderful effects than when heard alone, ... ‘ (Avison, 1775 edn: 101).

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Alexander’s adviser and Sidonian nobleman, Agenore, expresses his love for princess Tamiri in the following aria from Il rè pastore (see ex. 4.5). This aria highlights the ‘every tender gratitude for true friendship and faithful love’ of Schubart’s affective description of G major.

AGENORE AGENOR

Per me rispondete, Answer for me, Begl’astri d’amore: Fair stars of love: Se voi nol sapete, If you do not know, Chi mai lo saprà? Who does?

Voi tutte apprendeste You have learnt all Le vie del mio core, The ways of my heart Talor che vinceste Since you robbed La mia libertà. Me of my liberty.

Ex. 4.5. Il rè pastore K.208. Act 1, Scene 4. Aria of Agenore.

Although Tamiri laments that her fate has greatly altered, from that of a princess to a shepherdess in hiding, she thanks the gods for her faithful lover. The key of her first aria reflects these sentiments (see ex. 4.6), according to Schubart’s description of E-flat major: ‘The key of love, of devotion, ... /[Es-Dur], der Ton der Liebe, der Andacht, ...’ (Schubart, 1839 edn: 381).

Tamiri’s royal status and her aria’s text can also be seen in Ribock’s description: ‘E-flat major is perhaps less majestic [than B-flat major], but more aggressive, life and activity throughout, noble and ardent. Deep poppy-red; cinnamon with orange-blossom./Es dur vielleicht minder majestätisch, aber noch angreifender, durchaus Leben und Activität, edel und hitzig. Hochponceau; Zimmet mit Orangenblüte’ (Ribock cited in Cramer, 1783: Vol. 1, 706-709).

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TAMIRI TAMYRIS

Di tante sue procelle My heart has already forgotten Già si scordò quest’alma: All the many storms; Già ritrovò la calma It has found peace again Sul volto del mio ben. On the face of my love.

Fra l’ire delle stelle Amid the anger of the stars Se palpitò d’orrore, Though my heart trembled with horror, Or di content il core, Now it is throbbing Va palpitando in sen. With joy in my breast.

Ex. 4.6. Il rè pastore K.208 Act 1, Scene 5. Aria of Tamiri.

As in all of Mozart’s drammi per musica, the love duet between the primo uomo and prima donna (in this case soprano and soprano castrato) is in the key of A major. A duet of this type in this key can be found not only in Il rè pastore, but also Mitridate, Lucio Silla, Idomeneo and La clemenza di Tito, though that is a love duet between the secondo uomo and the seconda donna. Schubart says: ‘This key includes declarations of innocent love, satisfaction with one’s state of affairs; hope of seeing one’s beloved again after a separation; youthful cheerfulness and trust in God./Dieser Ton enthält Erklärungen unschuldiger Liebe, Zufriedenheit über seinen Zustand; Hoffnung des Wiedersehens beim Scheiden des Geliebten; jugendliche Heiterkeit und Gottvertrauen’ (Schubart, 1839 edn: 383). This description is aptly reflected in the tutti of the duet:

ELISA, AMINTA ELISA, AMYNTAS

Ah proteggete o Dei, Oh, protect, o gods Questo innocente amor. This innocent love.

Ex. 4.7. Il rè pastore K.208. Act 1, Scene 8. Duet of Elisa and Aminta.

The beginning of Act II sees Aminta installed as the legitimate king of Sidon by Alessandro. While Aminta meets with his Greek counsellors, Elisa is refused access to the camp by Agenore, sparking an emotional outburst. 179

ELISA ELISA

Barbaro! oh Dio mi vedi Barbarian! Oh God! You see me Divisa dal mio ben: Separated from my love, Barbaro, e non concedi Barbarian, and you do not allow me Ch’io ne dimandi almen. At least to ask about him.

Come di tanto affetto Why not give way to pity Alla pieta non cedi? At such deep affection? Hai pure un core in petto, You too have a heart in your breast, Hai pure un’alma in sen! You too have a soul within you.

Ex. 4.8. Il rè pastore K.208. Act 2, Scene 1. Aria of Elisa.

Again, Ribock’s description of the key of B-flat major is best suited to reflect the affective content of Elisa’s musical oration: ‘B-flat major is majesty, quiet in its greatness, powerful- acting without operosity, pressing without pinching; ... /B dur ist Majestät, ruhig in seiner Grösse, gewaltig wirkend ohne Operosität, drückend ohne zu kneipen; ... ’ (Ribock quoted in Cramer, 1783: Vol. 1, 706-709).

Alessandro expresses his contentment that he will be able to leave Sidon without making an enemy in his next aria (see ex. 4.9). Schubart describes this aria’s key of F major as ‘complaisance and calm./Gefälligkeit und Ruhe’ (Schubart, 1839 edn: 381). A 1796 description of F major in Elementi teorico-pratici di musica by Italian violinist and theorist Francesco Galeazzi (1758-1819) can be equally applied to convey the affect of Alessandro’s aria: ‘F [major] is majestic, but less so than E-flat and C; it is also shrill but not piercing./F è maestoso, ma meno dell’E bemolle, e del C; anch’egli acuto, ma non atridulo’ (Galeazzi, 1796: Vol. 2, 293-295).

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ALESSANDRO ALEXANDER

Se vincendo vi rendo felici, If in victory I make you happy, Se partendo non lascio nemici, If in departing I leave no enemies, Che bel giorno fia questo per me. What a wonderful day this will be for me!

De’sudori ch’io spargo pugnando, For the sweat that I shed in battle Non dimando più bella mercè. I ask no more handsome reward.

Ex. 4.9. Il rè pastore K.208. Act 2, Scene 4. Aria of Alessandro.

The aria to follow is Aminta’s rondeaux L’amerò, as Mozart terms it, which reveals the new king of Sidon’s devotion to Elisa, despite Alessandro’s plans that he should marry Tamiri. This rondeaux could also be viewed as an expression of royal duty buttressed by ideal love. This is a typical aria d’affetto, and Mozart sets it in E-flat major, echoing the expressive characteristic that Schubart outlines for that key (see above).

AMINTA AMYNTAS

L’amerò, sarò costante: I shall love her, I will be constant, Fido sposo, e fido amante Faithful husband and faithful lover. Sol per lei sospirerò. I shall sigh for her alone.

In sì caro e dolce oggetto In so dear and sweet an object La mia gioia, il mio diletto, I shall find my joy, my delight La mia pace io troverò. And my peace.

Ex. 4.10. Il rè pastore K.208. Act 2, Scene 6. Rondeaux of Aminta.

The instrumentation of the rondeaux is one of the most extensive in this musical drama. The scoring features parts for flutes, English horns, bassoons, French horns, strings and obbligato violin. The idiomatic writing for the flutes concurs with Avison’s view that the instrument is best suited for conveying a ‘languishing’ affect, while the obbligato violin part could be seen to act as an interlocutor with Aminta in expressing his innermost sentiments.

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The underlying ‘harshness’ associated with sharp keys is evident in Tamiri’s last aria from Il rè pastore. Vogler’s description of A major as: ‘sharp, bright, shining ... /spitzig, hell, leuchtend ... ‘ (Vogler quoted in Steblin, 1983: 169) conveys Tamiri’s questions to Agenore as to why he blames her for her arranged marriage to Aminta. She asks him to be kinder.

TAMIRI TAMYRIS

Se tu mi fai dono: If you make a gift of me, Se vuoi che d’altri io sia: If you want me to belong to another, Perché la colpa è mia? Why is it my fault, Perché son io crudel? Why am I cruel?

La mia dolcezza mia imita. Imitate my sweetness: L’abbandonata io sono: I am the deserted one E non t’insulto ardita, And I do not insult you boldy, Chiamandoti infedel. Calling you unfaithful.

Ex. 4.11. Il rè pastore K.208. Act 2, Scene 9. Aria of Tamiri.

Agenore responds with the opera’s only aria that is composed in a minor key. Schubart’s affective description of C minor reflects the sentiment of the text (see ex. 4.12): ‘Declaration of love and at the same time the lament of unhappy love. - All languishing, longing, sighing of the love-sick soul lies in this key./Liebeserklärung and zugleich Klage der unglücklichen Liebe. - Jedes Schmachten, Sehnen, Seufzen der liebetrunkenen Seele liegt in diesem Tone (Schubart, 1839 edn: 381).

AGENORE AGENOR

Sol può dir come si trova The only one who can say Un amante in questo stato How a lover feels in this plight Qualche amante sfortunato Is some unfortunate lover Che lo prova al par di me. Who endures it like me.

Un tormento è quel ch’io sento A torment is what I suffer, Più crudel d’ogni tormento, Crueller than any torment. È un tormento disperato, It is a desperate torment Che soffribile non è. Which is unbearable.

Ex. 4.12. Il rè pastore K.208. Act 2, Scene 10. Aria of Agenore.

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The scoring of Agenore’s aria features parts for four horns. While the horn was often associated at this period with compositions in the martial style, Avison comments that the French horn could not be ‘discarded in the figurate descant, or that part of composition where discords are concerned. In this species of harmony I have known the French-horn introduced with amazing success; but it requires a very able composer to manage it properly with such accompnyments [sic]’ (Avison, 1775 edn: 101) (see below). Mozart generally composes for the four horn parts in this aria simultaneously, producing a remarkable effect. The dynamic contrasts and shifts in orchestral texture are more pronounced, with a full harmonic texture produced by the brass and woodwind instruments alone, without any assistance from the strings. Daube comments in Musikalische Dilettant that these dramatic alternations in texture in operatic composition are often guided by the text: ‘With the exception of symphonies, one very seldom encounters such fully accompanied scores, unless it would be in a few opera arias, the text of which required an alternation of the full harmony./Außer den Sinphonien trifft man sehr wenig andere so stark begleitete Partien an: es wären dann einige Opernarien, deren Text die Abwechslung der starken Harmonie erfoderte (Daube, 1773: 136).

The last aria of Il rè pastore is reserved for Alessandro. The key of this aria is C major, thereby resolving and completing the key scheme of the work by returning to the key of the opening sinfonia. The key of C major expresses the dichotomy between Alessandro’s magnanimity and his status as king and conqueror. The affective qualities which highlight that key’s purity still apply, while late eighteenth-century affective descriptions look to noble characteristics of the key. Galeazzi writes in Elementi: ‘C [major] is a grandiose, military key, fit to display grand events, serious, majestic, and the tumultuous./C è un Tono grandioso, militare, atto ad esporre grandi avvenimenti, serio, maestoso, e di strepito’ (Galeazzi, 1796: 293). These military associations are further strengthened by the scoring, which includes both trumpets and horns.

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ALESSANDRO ALEXANDER

Voi che fausti ognor donate You who favourably ever grant Nuovi germi a’lauri miei, New seeds to my laurels, Secondate, amici Dei, Support, o friendly gods, Anche i moti del mio cor. Also the emotions of my heart.

Ex. 4.13. Il rè pastore K. 208. Act 2, Scene 11. Aria of Alessandro.

The finale of this work is a rare case in Mozart’s operas, of both serious and comic genres, in that it is not set in the same key as the overture or opening number. The finale praises Alessandro for his wise decision to install the legitimate King of Sidon to the throne, as well as not separating the two pairs of lovers. All eighteenth-century composers and theorists acknowledge that the key of D major is suitable for expressing joy and rejoicing. Vogler describes D major simply as: ‘lively/munter’ in Betrachtungen der Mannheimer Tonschule (1778-1781), while Schubart writes that this key is: ‘The key of triumph, of Hallelujahs, of war-cries, of victory-rejoicing. Thus, the inviting symphonies, the marches, holiday songs and heaven-rejoicing choruses are set in this key./Der Ton des Triumphes, des Hallelujas, des Kriegsgeschreis, des Siegesjubels. Daher setzt man die einladenden Symphonien, die Märsche, Festtagsgesänge und himmelaufjauchzenden Chöre in diesen Ton’ (Schubart, 1839 edn: 383). The finale returns to the key of Alessandro’s first aria – the character who is at the centre of this serenata’s dramatic action. The final chorus is very much an ingredient of the serenata genre. This case suggests that the tonal unity of the work begins and ends with the last piece of the musical drama proper (C major), and the celebratory finale was designed to pay homage to the visiting archduke, who no doubt would have identified Alexander the Great as an allegory of himself or his mother, Maria Theresa (Osborne, 1986: 108). The unity between the finale and the sinfonia is maintained not through key, as is usually the case in Mozart’s drammi per musica, but through the use of the same tempo marking and time signature in both pieces (see ex. 4.15).

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TUTTI ALL

Viva, viva l’invitto duce, Long live the unvanquished leader! Viva dal Cielo il dono Long live the gift of heaven Più caro al nostro cor. Dearest to our heart.

Ex. 4.14. Il rè pastore K.208. Act 2. Scena ultima. Finale.

Tempo plan of arias

It was not only through the composer’s choice of mode or key that the passions could be expressed. This aim could also be achieved through tempo and metre. Tempo was not only considered as literal ‘movement’, which is related to the speed of the musical beat, but movement which stirs the passions in the soul. Thus, tempo has several intertwined meanings: emotion, movement, rhythm as well as tempo in the strict sense of the word (Ranum, 2001: 309).

Movimento was therefore associated with the expression of the passions that ‘shake’ the soul, causing the pulse to quicken or slow. In musical terms, movimento refers to the speed of beat and the speed of the listeners’ pulses as they are ‘moved’ by the composition they are hearing. All forms of movement are connected to the heartbeat (Ranum, 2001: 310).

Another contributing factor to the movement of the passions was that of the human temperament. Descartes was one of the first modern philosophers to attempt an all- encompassing , systematic theory of the affections in Passions de l’âme, resulting in an idea known as musica pathetica (musical pathology). The theories relating to the temperaments dates back to ancient Greek medical teaching of Empedocles (fl. c450BC), Hippocrates (c460-377BC) and Galen (c130-c201), which continued to remain authoritative into the eighteenth century. The principles behind this theory were that humans were governed by four different temperaments: sanguine, melancholic, choleric and phlegmatic. Each of these was guided, in turn, by one of the four elements: earth, air, fire and water. Temperament was seen to be determined by a combination of two of four primary attributes: hot and cold, wet and dry. Hereby, a person’s temperament is part of each individual’s physiology 185

and their personality will reflect those passions associated with the corresponding temperament more prominently than others (Bartel, 1997: 36-37).

An external emotive stimulus, such as music, was believed to influence an individual with the corresponding affective inclination much more strongly than those individuals governed by contrasting temperaments. A person was said to be moved to a particular affection by a process which involves a change in the balance of ‘humours’ in the body. Each temperament was associated with a humour, which was believed to be produced by internal organs of the body. When affected by external stimuli, one of the body’s organs produces its corresponding humour, which enters the blood stream. Descartes considered these the smallest of sub-particles in the blood, as a type of ether (Bartel, 1997: 37).

The effect of music on the human psyche was considered just one of these stimuli, which stir the passions of the soul. For this phenomenon to function properly, it was viewed as necessary for both the text and the accompanying music to express the same affection, while listeners’ different reactions to hearing the same music could also be rationally explained under this theory. The varying temperaments of different individuals would predispose them to stronger reactions to different affections. For example, a person with a melancholic temperament would react more vehemently to melancholic music than someone with a choleric temperament would because a person with a melancholic temperament, matched by the already dominant corresponding humour, would be that much more receptive to the movement of a passion parallel to its own nature. Not only would individuals react differently to various affections, but they would also be attracted to music corresponding to their temperamental predisposition. Those musical-rhetorical devices and idioms which might stir a passion in one listener may not succeed to the same degree in another (Bartel, 1997: 38-39).

Theorists of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries often comment on the physiological effects of music in their discussions on tempo. The emotions expressed by tempo and musical metre were believed to provoke sympathetic vibrations causing both performer and listener to feel those emotions. In short, theorists suggest that emotion cannot be divorced

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from tempo and its associated movement (Ranum, 2001: 311-312). Rousseau’s article on tempo in Diderot’s Encyclopédie corroborates this line of thought:

The beat is the soul of song. Airs whose tempo is slow naturally sadden us; but a gay, lively and strongly cadenced air stirs us to joy, and our feet can scarcely keep from dancing. Take away the metre of an air, destroy the proportion between the beats, and the same airs that this proportion would make agreeable for you, left without charm and force will become incapable of pleasing and interesting. The beat, on the contrary, has a force of its own. That force depends on the beat alone and can subsist without the diversity of sounds. The drum provides us with an example of this.

Le Tems est l’ame du Chant; les Airs dont la mesure est lente, nous attristent naturellement; mais un Air gai, vif et bien cadencé nous excite à la joie et à peine les pieds peuvent-ils se retenir de danser. Otez la Mesure, détruisez la proportion des Tems, les mêmes Airs que cette proportion vous rendroit agréables, restés sans charmes et sans force, deviendront incapables de plaire et d’intéresser. Le Tems, au contraire, a sa force en lui-même; elle dépend de lui seul, et peut subsister sans la diversité des Sons. Le tambour nous en offer un exemple (Rousseau quoted in Diderot, 1751: Vol. 3, 757).

A contribution to the 1776 edition of the Encyclopédie by Dutch theorist Frédéric de Castillon gives us a later eighteenth-century perspective on the link between tempo and expression, which Mozart is likely to have been more familiar with. The principle can be summarised thus: the more introspective the affection being expressed, the slower the tempo; the faster the tempo, the more extroverted the sentiment being conveyed:

The gaiety that gives vivacity to our movements should do the same for musical metre. Sadness constricts the heart, slows movements; and the same languor is felt in the songs that sadness inspires; ... Musical metre is also one of the principal sources for the expression of the melody. Quadruple metre is sad when it is very slow; less slow, it is merely grave; still less slow, it has something grand and majestic about it. When the tempo is allegro, it becomes imposing, proud; and faster, it is impetuous, hot-headed, furious. Cause triple metre to pass through all these degrees, it will never lose its gentleness. And so, when slow, it will express affectionate sadness; less slow, tenderness; a bit quickly, contentment; quicker still, gaiety, but never anger – unless you stifle its natural gentleness by the nature of the upper voice, the accompaniment, and so forth. Six-eight metre ... is suitable for gentle and graceful affections, and for pastorals, when it is moderate. More rapid, it becomes gay; but try as one may, one can never make it as furious as quadruple metre. Six-eight metre is very appropriate for expressing despair, especially when it

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is mingled with a tender sentiment. This metre tolerates neither too great a slowness nor too great a rapidity.

La gaieté qui donne de la vivacité à nos mouvemens, en doit donner de même à la mesure: la tristesse ressere le coeur, ralentit les mouvemens; et la même langueur se fait sentir dans les chants qu’elle inspire. ... La mesure est encore une des principales sources de l’expression de la mélodie. La mesure à quatre tems est triste, lorsqu’elle est trés-lente; moins lente, elle n’est que grave; moins lente encore, elle a quelque chose de grand, de majestueux. Lorsqu’elle est allegro, elle devient imposante, fiere; enfin plus vîte, elle est impétueuse, emportée, furieuse. Faites passer la mesure à trois tems par tous ces degrés, elle ne perdra jamais sa douceur: ainsi, lente elle exprimera une tristesse affectueuse; moins lente, de la tendresse, un peu vite, du contentement; plus vîte, de la gaité, mais jamais de la colere; à moins que vous n’étouffiez sa douceur naturelle par le genre de votre chant, par l’acconpagnement, etc. La mesure de 6/8 ... est propre aux affections douces et gracieuses: c’est aussi celle des pastorales, quand elle est modérée. Plus vîte, elle devient gaie; mais on a beau faire, jamais elle ne devient aussi furieuse que la mesure à quatre tems. La mesure à 6/8 est trés-propre pour exprimer le désespoir, surtout quand il est mêlé d’un sentiment tendre. La mesure à 6/8 ne souffre ni un trop grand lenteur, ni une trop grande vîtesse (Castillon quoted in Diderot, 1776 edn: Vol. 5, 479-480).

The link between tempo, passion and pulse rate is clear. Slow pieces are sad; if they are slow, it is because the heart is so icy that the pulse slows appreciably. Moderate pieces are tender; and if they are performed at a moderate tempo, it is because a tender, loving heart beats steadily and moderately. Fast pieces are sometimes joyous and cheerful, or angry and hateful. If they are set at a rapid tempo, it is because the heart is on fire and is beating wildly, which causes the pulse to race (Ranum, 2001: 315).

Mozart’s affective use of tempo and metre in Il rè pastore is closely aligned to the principles illustrated by de Castillon (see above). Half of the musical numbers in this work are set to varying gradations of allegro tempo in quadruple or triple metre, expressing sentiments of joy and contentment (see ex. 4.15). The pulse rate of a joyous person is equal, rapid and moderately strong. Schubart describes the allegro in his Ideen as: ‘ ... a dominant motive, executed with fairly rapid movement./... ein herrschendes Motiv, mit ziemlich schneller Bewegung ausgeführt’ (Schubart, 1839 edn: 364). While theorists, such as Athanasius Kircher (1601-1680) suggest that the various affections could be categorised into three groups: joyful, pious or subdued and sad, eighteenth-century composers warned against

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using rhetorical tools like a dictionary (Tarling, 2005: 84). Baron von Grimm confirms this idea in his article ‘Motif, musique’ in Diderot’s Encyclopédie:

There is no music without metre. ... It is natural to express gentle passions by a gentle and tranquil tempo and violent passions by rapid tempos. But those who know the masterpieces of the [musical] art, know that the sweetest passion can be expressed by an air with a rapid tempo, without losing any of its sweet and tender ambience, and that genius has sometimes required a rapid and gay tempo for the expression of sadness and languor.

Il n’y a point de musique sans mesure. ... Il est naturel d’exprimer des passions douces par un mouvement doux et tranquille, et les passions violentes par des mouvements rapides; mais ceux qui connoissent les chef-d’oeuvres de l’art, savent que la passion la plus douce peut être rendue par un air d’un mouvement rapide, sans perdre son caractere de douceur et de tendresse, et que le génie a quelquefois rendu la vîtesse et la gaieté du mouvement nécessaries à l’expression de la tristesse et de la langueur (Grimm quoted in Diderot, 1751: Vol. 2, 952).

Agenore’s last aria is an impassioned plea of languishing love set to an allegro in quadruple metre (see exs. 4.12 and 4.15). In a case such as this, the heart beats wildly and the pulse becomes unequal, shallow and rapid.

Other arias or sections of arias in Il rè pastore are set to dance metres. In France, this type of aria was known as an air de mouvement, highlighting the fundamental link between movement of the beat and the movement of the passions. Arias of this genre were seen to be the most likely to express musical rhetoric in its most ordered and predictable form (Ranum, 2001: 37). Rousseau defines the air de mouvement in his Dictionnaire de musique: ‘Thus airs for dancing require above all a rhythmic and cadenced accentuation whose character, in each nation, is determined by language./Ainsi les airs de Danse exigent surtout un Accent rhythmique et cadencé, dont en chaque Nation le caractère est déterminé par la langue’ (Rousseau, 1768: 3).

The second quatrain of Aminta’s second aria (see exs. 4.3 and 4.15) and Agenore’s Act I aria (see exs. 4.5 and 4.15) are set to minuet dance metre under a 3/8 time signature, although their tempo indications are given simply as Grazioso. These pieces are of a moderate tempo, which express tenderness as the pulse rate is equal and strong. The use of the minuet dance

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metre in these arias alludes to the characters’ royal and noble status. In contrast, the tutti of Aminta and Elisa’s Act I duet is composed to gavotte metre marked at allegretto tempo. While Mattheson comments that the gavotte expresses sentiments of jubilant joy (jauchzende Freude), Rousseau asserts that the gavotte can express a wide variety of emotions, including tenderness, as in this example of Mozart’s (see exs. 4.7 and 4.15): ‘The movement of the gavotte is usually graceful, often gay, also sometimes tender and slow. Its phrases and reposes are marked every two bars./Le mouvement de la Gavotte est ordinairment gracieux, souvent gai, quelquefois aussi tendre et lent. Elle marque ses phrases et ses repos de deux en deux Mesures’ (Rousseau, 1768: 230).

The remaining arias are set to variants of andante or andantino tempo, all but one in triple metre. Rousseau’s definitions of both tempi are given under the one entry in his Dictionnaire: ‘It [Andante] characterises a movement marked without being gay, and which comes close to that in French designated by the word Gracieusement. The diminutive Andantino indicates a little less gaiety in its metre: ... /Il caractérise un mouvement marqué sans être gai, et qui répond à-peu-près à celui qu’on désigne en François par le mot Gracieusement. Le diminutif Andantino indique un peu moins de gaité dans la Mesure: ... ‘(Rousseau, 1768: 31-32).

Sentiments of love and tenderness prevail in these arias (see exs. 4.15), in which the pulse rate of a person in love remains equal and strong. An aria assigned an andante tempo could also be used to convey the ‘pathetic’ elements of the piece. The pathetic accent expressed the concept of pathos – or strong emotion. Brossard’s definition of the pathetic accent in his Dictionnaire de musique (1703) could equally apply to Mozart’s application of this oratorical accent to tempo and movimento in Elisa’s aria from Act II of Il rè pastore (see exs. 4.8 and 4.15):

Pathetico means touching, expressive, passionate, capable of arousing pity, compassion, anger and all the other passions that agitate man’s heart. ... The chromatic genre, with its major and minor semitones, both descending and rising, is very appropriate for this, as is the good use of dissonances, especially augmented and diminished chords. Variety in the ‘movements’, sometimes lively and sometimes languishing, sometimes slow and sometimes fast, and so forth, also contributes greatly [to expressing pathos].

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Pathetico, Pathetique veut dire Touchant, Expressif, Passionné, capable d’émouvoir, la pitié, la compassion, la colere, et toutes les autres passions qui agitent le coeur de l’homme. ... Le genre Chromatique avec ses Semitons majeurs et mineurs tant en descendant qu’en montant est fort propre à cela, comme aussi le bon menagement des dissonances, sur tout des superflues et des diminuées; la varieté des mouvements tantôt vifs, tantôt languissants, tantôt lents, tantôt vites, etc. y contribüe aussi beaucoup (Brossard, 1703).

This definition in Brossard’s Dictionnaire highlights the rhetorically-oriented thinking of the eighteenth-century composer. Both composers and librettists of drammi per musica sought artful ways of expressing the ‘movements of the soul’ – the passions that the listener was accustomed to hearing in the theatre. Each movimento or passion had its own expressive ambience, which could be conveyed, not only through choice of mode, tempo and tonal modulation, but also within the harmony of each chord itself, forming a comprehensive and cohesive whole (Ranum, 2001: 361).

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Aria Key Tempo

Overall affective Time signature characteristic

Sinfonia C major Molto allegro

Pure/innocent Common time (4/4)

No. 1: Aria of Aminta C major Andantino Intendo amico rio Not very noble, but also not 6/8 vulgar

No. 2: Aria of Elisa G major Allegro Alla selva, al prato, al fonte Common time (4/4) Everything rustic, idyllic

No. 3: Aria of Aminta B-flat major Allegro aperto Aer tranquillo e dì sereni Common time (4/4)

Cheerful love, aspiration, Grazioso hope 3/8

No. 4: Aria of Alessandro D major Allegro Si spande al sole in faccia 3/4 Heroic deeds

No. 5: Aria of Agenore G major Grazioso Per me rispondete 3/8 True friendship/faithful love

No. 6: Aria of Tamiri E-flat major Allegro aperto Di tante sue procelle Common time (4/4) Noble/ardent

No. 7: Duet of Elisa/Aminta A major Andante 3/4 192

Vanne a regnar ben mio Allegretto Common time (4/4) Innocent love

No. 8: Aria of Elisa B-flat major Andante Barbaro! oh Dio mi vedi 3/4

Majesty, greatness Allegro Common time (4/4)

No. 9: Aria of Alessandro F major Allegro moderato Se vincendo vi rendo felici Common time (4/4) Majestic/calm

No. 10: Rondeaux of Aminta E-flat major Andantino L’amerò, sarò costante 3/4 Love/devotion

No. 11: Aria of Tamiri A major Andantino grazioso Se tu mi fai dono 2/4 Sharp/bright

No. 12: Aria of Agenore C minor Allegro Sol può dir come si trova Common time (4/4) Lament/unhappy love

No. 13: Aria of Alessandro C major Allegretto Voi che fausti ognor donate Common time (4/4) Grandiose/militaristic

No. 14: Finale D major Molto allegro Viva, viva l’invitto duce Common time (4/4) Triumph/rejoicing

Ex. 4.15. Il rè pastore K. 208. Comparison of arias’ key, tempo, time signature and intended affect.

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Harmonic inflection

The expressive interplay between harmony and melody continued to be observed by composers as the eighteenth century progressed, and Mozart was no exception. Part of this interplay involved the role that accidentals played in expressing the character of the passions. The introduction of accidentals in the vocal line of sung orations therefore marked a shift to a new emotional state (Ranum, 2001: 342).

By the end of the seventeenth century, the use of sharp, natural and flat accidentals were linked to the expression of ‘harsh’ or ‘soft’ emotions, on the same principle as the hexachord theory outlined above that influenced key choice. By the mid eighteenth century the idea of tonal modulation became more and more associated with the rhetorical partitions of a musical oration, the affective application of accidentals continued to be maintained by Mozart and his contemporaries. This view of the link between speech and pitching of the voice is confirmed by Rameau, who comments in Observations sur notre instinct pour la musique: ‘One is doing just that every day when one refers to the sharp or the natural as a sign of strength, of joy, when one raises the voice in the same cases, from anger and so forth; and when one cites the flat as a sign of languor, weakness and so forth, when, in short, one lowers the voice in the same cases./On donne tous les jours dans ce sens, lorsqu’on cite le Diéze, ou le Béquare en signe de force, de joye, lorsqu’on éleve la voix dans les mêmes cas, dans la colère, etc. et lorsqu’on cite le Bémol en signe de molesse, de foiblesse, etc, lors enfin qu’on rabaisse la voix dans les mêmes cas’ (Rameau, 1754: 54).

This use of accidentals as signposts to the emotions is particularly evident in recitative composition of the mid to late eighteenth century, which had remained relatively unchanged since the seventeenth century. In the following example of recitativo obbligato from Il rè pastore, Mozart consistently uses sharp, natural and flat accidentals to reinforce either the sentiment being expressed by the text, or particular words of the text (see ex. 4.15).

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Predominance of sharp accidentals (and keys suggested by cadences)

AMINTA AMYNTAS

Che? [A major] m’affretti a lasciarti? e non ti What? [A major] You press me to leave you? cale, Ye Gods, [D major] Che il genitor, il genitore, oh Dei? [D major] Does it not matter to you if your father, A cui la tua dei, To whom you owe your happiness, La mia felicità degg’io, de’nuovi As I do mine, now shares Improvvisi contenti, or ne sia a parte? Our new unforseen joy? Perdona Elisa, [A major] ubbidirti non posso; Forgive me, Elisa, [A major] I cannot [D [D major] major] obey you; Me’l vietan l’amor tuo, il gran piacere, Your love, our bliss, Il rispetto, il dovere. Respect, duty all forbid it.

Predominance of natural accidents

Ah pria, ch’altri il prevenga, Ah, before others inform him, Dal mio labbro si lieta [C major] nuova Let him hear such happy [C major] tidings intenda, from my lips,

E ad Alessandro, e al regno poi n’andrò; Then I shall go to Alexander and the throne;

Predominance of flat accidents

Quindi fra poco nel tuo fido pastore [B-flat And soon your faithful shepherd [B-flat major] major] Un re tuo sposo a te ritornerà. Will return to you as king and your husband. Soffri, ch’io vada ... Ah se sapessi, quanto [F Let me go ... Oh, if I knew, [F major] major] My idol, how much [F major] Lungi da te, My loving [B-flat major] heart suffers Idol mio, un solo istante Far from you a single moment! Peni il mio cor amante ... [B-flat major]

Return of sharp accidentals

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ELISA ELISA

Ah se vedessi, Oh, if you could see Come sta questo cor! Di gioia esulta. [A How my heart is! It exults [A major] with joy: major] Ma pur [A major] ... no no, tacete, And yet [A major] ... no, no, hush, Importuni timori. [A major] Or non si pensi, Troublesome fears. [A major] Now my only [A major] thought [A major] Se non che Aminta è re. Deh va: potrebbe Must be that Aymtas is king. Go then, Alessandro sdegnarsi. Alexander must be angry.

AMINTA AMYNTAS

Amici Dei, [E major] Friendly gods, [E major] Son grato al vostro dono: [A major] I am grateful for your gift: [A major] Ma troppo è caro a questo prezzo [E major] But a throne is too dear at this price. un trono. [E major]

Ex. 4.16. Il rè pastore K. 208. Act 1, Scene 8. Recitative of Aminta and Elisa.

As Aminta’s sentiments in this recitative become more languid, the type of accidentals employed reflects his change in emotion. Sharp accidentals predominate in the first section of the recitative, as Aminta’s assertive statements reflect his elevation in status from shepherd to king of Sidon. Natural accidentals appear from the line: ‘Ah pria’ (see ex. 4.15) to represent Aminta’s happiness at the news that his fate has changed. As Aminta realises that he must leave Elisa to join the royal camp, flat accidentals replace naturals aptly from the word ‘n’andrò’ (I shall go), as Aminta accepts that he must leave Elisa and his idyllic rustic life to become king. Elisa’s reassuring and exultant response sees the return of sharps to this recitative. The key words which Mozart set to the aforementioned accidents are highlighted in the table above (see ex. 4.15).

The introduction of accidentals outside of the prevailing tonic key in any part of a musical composition was seen during the eighteenth century as a reflection of the emotions being conveyed by the harmony as a whole. The Comte de Lacépède discusses this at length in his Poétique:

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To imitate the passions in airs and in places where he will truly be singing, the musician will employ those melodic phrases ... that derive such great power from their resemblance to the signs of the sentiments, and that should serve as a link to the most faithful images of the affections of our souls. He will place moreover in the accompaniment everything that can present or renew the image of the passions that he wants to paint, [and] all the signs that might characterise them.

Le musicien emploiera, pour imiter les passions dans les air et dans les endroits où il chantera véritablement, ces phrases de chant ... qui tirent une si grande puissance de leur ressemblance avec les signes des sentimens, et qui doivent server de liaison aux images plus fidèles des affections de notre ame. Il placera d’ailleurs dans les accompagnemens, tout ce qui pourra présenter ou renouveller l’image des passions qu’il voudra peindre, tous les signes qui pourront les caractériser (Lacépède, 1785: Vol. 2, 132).

Late eighteenth-century treatises single out the use of inversions and dissonant in a consistent way to bolster the expression of the passions, particularly in the vocal genres of composition (Ranum, 2001: 346). In arias which express grand and majestic statements, chords in root position dominate the musical landscape, however, there will be some dominant seventh chords at cadences, as Castillon asserts in his article ‘Expression, musique’ in Diderot’s Encyclopédie:

If, to a melody that expresses something grand, something majestic, one adds a full [tonal] harmony composed of perfect chords rather than inverted ones, putting as often as possible the major third in the upper voice, avoiding the dominant chords and preferring instead seventh chords on the dominant, one will certainly make the melody even more expressive.

Si à une mélodie qui exprime du grand, du majestueux, on ajoute une harmonie pleine, composée d’accords parfaits, plutôt que renversés, mettant toujours autant qu’on le peut la tierce majeure dans le dessus, évitant les accords de la dominante, et leur préférant ceux de dominante tonique, l’on rendra certainement sa mélodie encore plus expressive (Castillon quoted in Diderot, 1776 edn: Vol. 5, 480).

Alessandro’s last aria from Il rè pastore evokes these musical ideas of grandeur and majesty (see 4.13). As can be seen in the instrumental exordium of the aria, ‘perfect chords’, which Castillon describes above, are predominant in this section of Mozart’s musical oration,

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reflecting the sentiments of the text and Alessandro’s status as king and warrior (see ex. 4.16).

Ex. 4.16. Il rè pastore K. 208. Act 2, Scene 11. Aria of Alessandro. Bars 1-7.

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On the other hand, inverted chords reflected more subtle emotion, supporting the sensual statements in a text, such as love, repose, torment, pleasure and pain (Ranum, 2001: 349). Tamiri’s solo recitativo semplice, which opens Scene V of Act I of Il rè pastore, deals with sentiments of love and repose.

TAMIRI TAMYRIS

No: voi non siete, o Dei, No, ye gods Quanto fin’or credei, You are not so inclement to me Inclementi con me. Cangiaste, è vero, As I believed till now. It is true, In capanna il mio soglio; in rozzi velli You changed my throne into a hut, La porpora real; ma fido ancora My royal purple into coarse fleeces, but L’idol mio ritrovai. I found my idol still faithful: Pietosi Dei, voi mi lasciate assai. Merciful gods, you have left me enough!

The emotions expressed in the above text are conveyed through the use of chord inversions. Of the few root position chords in this recitative, a root position chord in B-flat major is employed to highlight Tamiri’s royal heritage on the word ‘soglio’ (throne) in bar five (see ex. 4.17).

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Ex. 4.17. Il rè pastore K. 208. Act 1, Scene 5. Recitative of Tamiri.

Discordant harmony was used as means of expressing the most vehement feelings by seventeenth and eighteenth-century composers. In his treatise Versuch einer Anweisung die Flöte traversiere zu spielen (1752), Johann Joachim Quantz (1697-1773) describes dissonances as ‘disturbing the spirit’ (Tarling, 2005: 78). While disturbing the spirit, 200

dissonant harmony was simultaneously viewed as enhancing the expressiveness of the vocal line of a composition, highlighting the more passionate thoughts of the work (Ranum, 2001: 350, 352). Rousseau explains in his Dictionnaire that for sweet, tender or lugubrious passages, dissonances should suggest the minor mode and resolve downwards. By contrast, when the orator expresses despair, angry, or astonished thoughts, the dissonances should be major, therefore resolving upwards: ‘[The tonal harmony] will bring out the strong expressions by major dissonances and it will reserve minor dissonances for gentler sentiments./[L’Harmonie] fera sortir les Expressions fortes par des Dissonances majeures; il réservera les mineures pour des sentimens plus doux’ (Rousseau, 1768: 209-210).

Agenore’s final aria from Il rè pastore is not only the most impassioned oration from this work, but is one of Mozart’s most emotionally wrought compositions from his drammi per musica. Here, Mozart alternates major and minor dissonances to express Agenore’s pathos and despair at the thought of Tamiri marrying Aminta. These principles are particularly pertinent in conveying the emotions portrayed in the second quatrain of the aria (see ex. 4.12). The conclusion of the first couplet resolves upwards on ‘tormento’ (torment), while the vocal line of the remaining section of the quatrain descends, resolving downwards, focusing on the word ‘disperato’ (desperate) (see. 4.18).

Ex. 4.18. Il rè pastore K. 208. Act 2, Scene 10. Aria of Agenore. Bars 60-67.

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Note how the dissonances in this example fall on the strong beats of the bars. From the seventeenth century onwards, this use of discordant harmony was felt to express a ‘hard’ or ‘harsh’ emotional state. French theorist Charles Masson (fl. 1680-1700) writes in Nouveau traité des règles pour la composition de la musique (1697) that: ‘The dissonances that one employs to make people hear harshness should fall on the downbeat or on the first part of the beat./Les Dissonances qu’on employe pour faire entendre la dureté, doivent se rencontrer sur le frappé ou sur la premiére partie d’un temps de la mesure’ (Masson, 1705 edn: 59).

Although musical style and genres were evolving rapidly during Mozart’s lifetime, the principal concern of composers of this period was to enhance the expression of their works, just as it had been in the earlier eighteenth century. In the genre of dramma per musica, composers would express the affections through a constantly expanding repertoire of resources that included their choice of key or mode, tempo and its associated metre, as well as through various aspects of harmony to interact with the text being set. Besides these compositional resources, tones of voice and melodic line patterns were also part of the language which composers drew upon to express emotion in a rhetorical fashion.

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Chapter V

Tones of voice and melodic line

Seventeenth- and eighteenth-century treatises on public speaking pointed to the voice’s crucial role in expressing the passions, in which analogies were often drawn between reading poetry aloud and singing expressively. Just as emotion alters the tempo of the pulse and speech, emotion also causes the throat to constrict or relax, giving rise to different tones of voice. For example, fear makes the throat tighten and makes the voice sound tense, muffled or choked as it hovers around one pitch, while joy and happiness causes the throat to relax, so that the voice becomes full and clear, rising in pitch (Ranum, 2001: 360). Therefore, tone of voice not only deals with the tessitura of the orator’s voice, but also the musical pitch of notes. French Academician, Antoine Furetière (1619-1688) emphasises the role that tones of voice play in expressing the passions in Dictionnaire universel:

Ton, as a musical term, is the inflection of the voice that marks various passions of the soul. A gentle and agreeable tone is the tone used in conversation. A shrill and menacing tone is the one that marks an angry man. A proud and imperious tone is the one that commands when one speaks in a masterful way. A mocking and ironic tone is the tone of a person who feels hate or envy. A plaintive and doleful tone is the one that shows affliction or pain. A declamatory or theatrical tone is the one that is used in speech or on the stage. This word ton expresses its principal cause, which is tension of the body that produces it. The tone is low or high, according to the tension on the resonating body, as can be observed with string instruments. Ton, in music, refers specifically to the elevation of the voice by certain equal, measured degrees or intervals, which serve to form chords.

Ton, Terme de Musique. Inflexion de voix qui marque diverses passions de l’ame. Un ton doux et agreable, est le ton dont on parle en conversation. Un ton aigre et menaçant, est celuy qui marque un homme en colere. Un ton fier et imperieux, est celuy qui commande, lors qu’on parle d’un ton de maistre. Un ton mocqueur et ironique, est le ton d’une personne qui a de la haine, ou de l’envie. Un ton plaintif et dolent, est celuy qui témoigne de l’affliction, de la douleur. Un ton de Declamateur, de Comedien, est celuy dont on use dans les harangues et sur les theatres. Ce mot de ton exprime sa principale cause, qui est la tension du corps qui le produit. Le ton est grave, ou aigu, selon que le corps sonnant a une different tension, comme on voit arrive aux cordes des instruments. Ton, se dit particulierement en Musique, de l’elevation de la voix part certains degrez ou intervalles égaux ou mesurez, qui servent à former des accords (Furetiére quoted in Ranum, 2001: 317). 203

Intervals and their affects

Tones of voice (tonus) are thus considered the result of tension in the body. When the voice rises or falls in pitch, it is because emotional tension has changed in the orator. Varying pitch or tone of voice in an oration was seen as playing an important role in expressing the passions (Ranum, 2001: 318).

As composition gradually moved further away from a contrapuntal approach during the eighteenth century, composers used musical intervals with a specific expressive intent (Ranum, 2001: 353). Patricia Ranum in The Harmonic Orator draws attention to the concept of the ‘perfection’ or ‘imperfection’ of intervals being employed to convey emotion in the context of a musical composition (Ranum, 2001: 354). The eighteenth-century perspective on the perfection or imperfection of an interval was inherited from the modal and contrapuntal system of composition of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, in which the interval was determined by the number of tones in the diatonic scale that separates notes in the bass line from the vocal line (Ranum, 2001: 353). Mozart’s ordering of parts in his vocal scores concurs with this compositional approach. In the example below, we can see that Mozart places the vocal line immediately above the bass line, and the sketches or fragments of incomplete works reveal that Mozart composed the vocal and bass lines of his vocal works first before filling in the harmony (see ex. 5.1).

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Ex. 5.1. Mitridate, rè di Ponto K.87. Act 1, Scene 10. Cavata of Mitridate (sketch). Bars 1-17.

The examples following will illustrate Mozart’s use of particular ascending and descending melodic intervals in the musical word setting of arias and accompanied recitatives, comparing them to the theoretical writings of Johann Philipp Kirnberger (1721-1783) in his treatise Die Kunst des reinen Satzes in der Musik (1771-1779).

According to sources of the seventeenth and eighteen centuries, intervals of the fourth, fifth and octave or unison were considered ‘perfect’, matching today’s description of these intervals, while thirds and sixths were considered ‘imperfect’. Seconds and sevenths were regarded as dissonances. In this way, the emotional states imitated in the music could trigger recognition of them in the listener. Mattheson says it is the job of the composer to give musicians the best opportunity to understand, feel and be in sympathy with the prevailing affection of the piece they are performing (Tarling, 2005: 72-73). Already in the seventeenth century, the French theorist Marin Mersenne lists five pairs of opposites for representing the expressive power of musical intervals: diatonic versus chromatic intervals, consonant or dissonant harmony, ascending or descending intervals and high versus low placement of the voice (Tarling, 2005: 74). These principles combined could produce a variety of emotional effects. The size and direction of intervals were used to enhance emotion, not only between parts in the musical score, but within parts themselves. Rising

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intervals express hopeful sentiments and grow stronger, while descending intervals are despairing and convey the diminishing emotional state of the spirit. Composers employed the contrasting emotional expressiveness of different intervals to create interest and surprise (Tarling, 2005: 78). Scottish writer on music, John Holden (c.1737-c.1771), sums up the affective attribute of each note in the diatonic scale in An Essay towards a Rational System of Music (1770):

There is something peculiar in every note, which well deserves our regard. The key note is remarkably bold and commanding, the third and seventh have something supplicative in them: and it is on one of these tones which the beggar chiefly dwells, if he uses any tone at all: the sixth is a kind of plaintive sound; the fourth, as observed before, is grave and solemn; the fifth partakes something of the nature of the key, and the second is not unlike to the sixth. It must be observed, that these properties are not inseparable from the sounds; but the same sound will have different effects, according to the different manners in which it is introduced (Holden, 1770: 6).

Treatises on sung and spoken declamation allude to sudden changes of pitch that express emotion. In a musical sense, the size of the interval reveals the strength of the passion being felt. Castillon canvasses the different emotions that can be expressed by intervals in his article on ‘Expression, musique’ in the Encyclopédie:

Of all melodies that move by leaps, the one that moves upward through the perfect major chord should be the most agreeable and the least stirring, because all the sounds that follow are already contained and announced in the first one. ... The melody which moves through the perfect chord, from high to low, is less natural, and it is also more sad. If the melody moves by dissonant leaps instead of advancing by consonant ones, it is more striking; and when it moves upward, it expresses astonishment and hot-headedness, and when it moves downward, it expresses gravity, sadness, horror. An upward leap of a diminished fifth is gentle and sad, while a leap to the tritone is harsh and causes astonishment mingled with fury. Indeed, small leaps have less effect than large ones. An upward leap of a minor sixth and one of a major sixth create very different effects. ... If one moves upward slowly, by semitones, one conveys sadness; going down by semitones at the same tempo beings sadness to its maximum.

De toutes les mélodies qui vont par sauts, celle qui parcourt l’accord parfait majeur en montant doit être le plus agréable et remuer le moins, parce que tous les sons qui se succedent sont déjà contenus et annoncés dans le premier. ... La mélodie qui parcourt l’accord parfait en allant de l’aigu au grave est moins naturelle, elle est 206

aussi plus triste. Si la mélodie, au lieu d’aller par sauts consonnans, va par sauts dissonans, elle frappe plus; et en montant exprime de l’étonnement et de l’emportement: en descendant, de la gravité, de la tristesse, de l’horreur. Le saut du fausse quinte, en montant, est doux et triste, celui du triton est dur; il cause un étonnement mêlé de fureur. Les petits sauts sont en effet moindres que les grands. Un saut de sixte mineure en montant, et un sixte majeure, font un effet tout différent. ... Si l’on monte par semi-tons avec un mouvement lent, on imprime de la tristesse: descendez par semi-tons avec le même mouvement, et la tristesse est portée à son comble (Castillon quoted in Diderot, 1776: Vol. 5, 480).

Kirnberger assigned specific expressive qualities to intervals in the treatise Die Kunst des reinen Satzes in der Musik, echoing similar ideas to Castillon. Both writers’ views on the affective attributes of particular intervals can be seen to be reflected in Mozart’s drammi per musica. The chromatic nature of the minor second is described by Kirnberger as ‘sad/traurig’, when it rises (Kirnberger, 1776: Vol. 2, part 1, 103). Theorists of the eighteenth century viewed chromatic movement as representing pathos (Tarling, 2005: 78). For example, Mozart employs the rising minor second to enhance the heightened expression of Aspasia’s emotions in her second aria from Act I of Mitridate (see below).

ASPASIA ASPASIA

Nel sen mi palpita dolente il core; In my breast my heart beats sadly; Mi chiama a piangere il mio dolore; My grief calls me to weep; Non so resistere, non so restar. I cannot resist, I cannot remain.

Ma se di lagrime umido ho il ciglio, But if my eyes are wet with tears, È solo, credimi, il tuo periglio Believe me, it is only your peril which is La cagion barbara del mio penar. The cruel reason for my suffering.

The minor second is used in the vocal line to highlight the line of text (with the key word that falls on the interval highlighted in bold, where applicable): Ma se di lagrime umido il ciglio, which is also mirrored in the orchestral accompaniment, further reiterating the sentiment of the text (see exs. 5.2 and 5.3).

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Ex. 5.2. Mitridate, rè di Ponto K.87. Act 1, Scene 7. Aria of Aspasia. Bars 33-39.

Ex. 5.2. Mitridate, rè di Ponto K.87. Act 1, Scene 7. Aria of Aspasia. Bars 54-59.

Kirnberger describes the rising major second as ‘pleasant, also pathetic (in terms of oratorical accent)/angenehm auch pathetisch’ (Kirnberger, 1776: Vol. 2, part 1, 103). The interval dominates the first aria of seconda donna (see below), Celia from Lucio Silla, in which she urges her brother Silla to woo Giunia, the prima donna, to win her affections (see ex. 5.4 and 5.5), which is represented by Kirnberger’s description of the falling major second as ‘earnest, reassuring/ernsthaft, beruhigend’ (Kirnberger, 1776: Vol. 2, part 1, 103). A

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succession of rising and falling in an extended vocal line of the aria matches the sentiments of Kirnberger’s affective description of the interval.

CELIA CELIA

Se lusinghiera speme If lovers can no longer Pascer non sa gli amanti Deceive themselves with flattering hope, Anche fra i più costanti Even among the most constant Languisce fedeltà. Fidelity will languish.

Quel cor sì fido, e tenero, That heart so faithful and tender, Ah sì quel core istesso Yes, the very heart Così ostinato adesso, That is still so steadfast, Quel cor si piegherà. That heart will yield.

Ex. 5.4. Lucio Silla K.135. Act 1, Scene 3. Aria of Celia. Bars 181-184.

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Ex. 5.5. Lucio Silla K.135. Act 1, Scene 3. Aria of Celia. Bars 167-173.

The rising augmented second is a particular feature of Fauno’s sole aria from Ascanio in Alba (see below).

FAUNO FAUNUS

Dal tuo gentil sembiante From your kindly face Risplende un’alma grande: Shines a great soul; E quel chiaror che spande Its expansive brightness Quasi adorar ti fa. Almost makes me worship you.

Se mai divieni amante If ever you fall in love, Felice la donzella The damsel will be happy Che a fiamma così bella Who is ignited Allor s’accenderà. By so fair a flame.

Kirnberger assigns to the rising augmented second, the character of ‘languishing/schmachtend’ (Kirnberger, 1776: Vol. 2, part 1, 103). Mozart consistently uses this interval to express the languishing sentiments of the last two lines of text: Che a fiamma così bella allor s’accenderà (see exs. 5.6 and 5.7). The chromatic intervals, including the augmented second, are situated on the key word of the phrase s’accenderà.

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Ex. 5.6. Ascanio in Alba K.111. Part 1, Scene 3. Aria of Fauno. Bars 82-87.

Ex. 5.7. Ascanio in Alba K.111. Part 1, Scene 3. Aria of Fauno. Bars 164-169.

On the other hand, Kirnberger felt the falling augmented second to be ‘plaintive, tender, caressing/klagend, zärtlich, schmeichelnd’ (Kirnberger, 1776: Vol. 2, part 1, 103). These expressive qualities are evident in primo uomo Sifare’s final aria in Mitridate (see below).

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SIFARE XIPHARES

Se il rigor d’ingrata sorte If the severity of ungrateful fate Rende incerta la mia fede, Makes my faith uncertain, Ah palesi almen la morte Ah, let death at least reveal Di quest’alma il bel candor. The fair purity of my soul.

D’una vita io son già stanco I am now weary of a life Che m’espone al mondo in faccia Which exposes me to the world, A dover l’indegna taccia Having to tolerate Tollerar di traditor. The shameful charge of traitor.

Mozart employs the descending augmented second to highlight the sentiment of the text at the line: Ah palesi almen la morte di quest’alma il bel candor (see ex. 5.8). The interval prepares the musical phrase for the climatic word of the text: ‘morte/death’.

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Ex. 5.8. Mitridate, rè di Ponto K.87. Act 3, Scene 6. Aria of Sifare. Bars 86-89.

Despite being set as an allegro assai, the affective attribute Kirnberger gives to the rising minor third still applies to Elettra’s final aria from Idomeneo (see below). Kirnberger describes the interval as: ‘sad, lugubrious/traurig, wehmüthig’ (Kirnberger, 1776: Vol. 2, part 1, 103).

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ELETTRA ELECTRA

D’Oreste, d’Aiace Within my breast I feel Ho in seno i tormenti, The torments of Orestes and Ajax; D’Aletto la face ’s torch Già morte mi dà. Brings me death.

Squarciatemi il core, Tear out my heart, Ceraste, serpenti, You horned serpents, O un ferro il dolore Or a sword In me finirà. Shall end my grief.

Mozart consistently employs the rising minor third to express Elettra’s sadness, on words such as ‘tormenti/torments’ and ‘morte/death’, as she realises she has lost Idamante to her rival Ilia forever, following Neptune’s decree that Idamante and Ilia will marry and rule Crete (exs. 5.9 and 5.10). The rising minor third on ‘morte’ occurs in the extreme harmonic context of the augmented sixth.

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Ex. 5.9. Idomeneo, rè di Creta K.366. Act 3, Scene 10. Aria of Elettra. Bars 5-8.

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Ex. 5.10. Idomeneo, rè di Creta K.366. Act 3, Scene 10. Aria of Elettra. Bars 21-24.

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The falling minor third is described by Kirnberger as ‘unperturbed, moderately cheerful/gelassen, mäßig vergnügt’, while he describes the diminished third as: ‘very lugubrious, caressing/sehr wehmüthig, zärtlich’ (Kirnberger, 1776: Vol. 2, part 1, 103). Mozart juxtaposes these intervals in his first musical drama, Apollo et Hyacinthus, to heighten the expression of the text from the central section of Hyancinthus’ first aria at: nunc amando, nunc minando/now loving, now menacing (see ex. 5.11). This diminishing of successive intervals was felt to represent musical contraction, but also contraction of the body and spirit (Tarling, 2005: 85), as well as heightening the contrast of the text between ‘loving’ and ‘menacing’.

Ex. 5.11. Apollo et Hyacinthus K.38. Prologus. Aria of Hyacinthus. Bars 145-151.

Arias which evoke the proud and martial during the eighteenth century were expressed through consonant harmony, and often revolve around the intervals of the major triad. The Comte de Lacépède comments in Poétique: ‘The musician can paint this same pride by giving his music a military tone, ... by causing to be heard ... bellicose chords such as major thirds mingled with fifths, and by allowing no foreign note to come and alter these simple

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chords made for warriors./Le musicien pourra peindre cette même fierté, en donnant à sa musique un ton militaire; ... en y faisant entendre des ... accords belliqueux, tels que des tierces majeures mêlées avec des quintes; en ne souffrant pas qu’aucune note étrangère vienne altérer ces accords simples et faits pour les guerriers’ (Lacépède, 1785; Vol. 1, 197).

Aufidio’s only aria in Lucio Silla is an aria of this type, which also reflects his warlike character in the opera as a tribune.

AUFIDIO AUFIDIUS

Guerrier, che d’un acciaro The warrior who turns pale Impallidisce al lampo, At the flash of steel A dar non vada in campo, Should not expose his cowardice Prove di sua viltà. On the battlefield.

Se or cede un vil timore, If he gives way to base fear Se or cede alla speranza, If he gives way to hope, E qual sarà incostanza, And what is inconstancy, Se questa non sarà? If this is not?

The mixture of perfect intervals (fourths, fifths and octaves) and thirds (an imperfect interval) was associated with the absence of strong passions (Ranum, 2001: 354), as one would expect in the utterances of a soldier. While Patricia Ranum’s research deals with this concept in relation to French music, she suggests that this principle is one that can be generally applied to compositions of the eighteenth century (Ranum, 2001: 354). Kirnberger’s affective descriptions of these intervals clearly mesh with the character of military music. Kirnberger describes the rising major third as ‘cheerful/vergnügt’; the rising perfect fourth as ‘bright/ frölich’; the rising perfect fifth as ‘bright, bold/frölich, muthig’; and the rising octave as ‘bright, bold, uplifting /frölich, muthig, aufmunternd’ (Kirnberger, 1776: Vol. 2, part 1, 103). Likewise, falling perfect intervals also share similar expressive characteristics amongst themselves. Kirnberger describes the falling perfect fourth as ‘calm, content/gelassen, zufrieden’; the falling perfect fifth as ‘content, reassuring/zufrieden, beruhigend’; and the falling octave as ‘very comforting/sehr beruhigend’. On the other hand, the falling major third is described as ‘pathetic, also melancholy/pathetisch, auch melacholisch’ (Kirnberger, 1776: Vol. 2, part I, 103-104). Rhetoricians assert that this interval

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is an expression of the ‘lesser pathetic accent’ (Ranum, 2001: 387), and in Aufidio’s martial aria, the falling major third expresses the references to cowardice and fear in the text (see above). While here, Ranum is specifically referring to rhetorical practice in the setting of French texts, it could be asserted that the underlying principle is evident in Mozart’s settings of an Italian-language libretto, as in this example from Lucio Silla.

The use of these intervals, which are primarily based on the major triad, dominates in Aufidio’s aria. They are evident, not only in the instrumental exordium and other (see ex. 5.12), but also in the vocal line. The intervals of the major arpeggio, which convey the martial are generally employed to express the first couplet of the text (see ex. 5.13).

Ex. 5.12. Lucio Silla K.135. Act 2, Scene 1. Aria of Aufidio. Bars 1-7.

Ex. 5.13. Lucio Silla K.135. Act 2, Scene 1. Aria of Aufidio. Bars 72-79.

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Mozart’s use of the tritone is particularly striking in his setting of Tito’s recitativo obbligato ‘Che orror!’ from Act II of La clemenza di Tito. Mozart sets Metastasio’s original text of 1734, and Mozart’s employment of the tritone is strongly aligned to the affective characteristics that Kirnberger assigns to the rising and falling tritone.

Kirnberger describes the rising tritone as ‘vehement/heftig’ (Kirnberger, 1776: Vol. 2, part 1, 103). As Tito meditates on his conflicting emotions at the betrayal of his friend Sesto, and whether or not he should sign Sesto’s death warrant, Mozart adopts the rising tritone to express Tito’s more emphatic statements, such as: E la sentenza ancora non segno/And still I do not sign the sentence (see ex. 5.14)? – and: Olà/Ho there (see ex. 5.15)? The key word in ex. 5.14, ‘sentenza/sentence’ is underlined in forceful expression by the augmented sixth.

Ex. 5.14. La clemenza di Tito K.621. Act 2, Scene 8. Recitative of Tito. Bars 9-13.

Ex. 5.15. La clemenza di Tito K.621. Act 2, Scene 8. Recitative of Tito. Bars 22-25.

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The falling tritone is described by Kirnberger as ‘sinking sadness/sinkend traurig’ (Kirnberger, 1776: Vol. 2, part 1, 103). This emotional characteristic dominates the final section of Tito’s recitative, in which his thoughts turn to the carefree existence of the rustic peasant that would be so much more desirable than the life of a ruler (see ex. 5.17). The tritone falling on ‘villanel mendico/poor peasant’ is expressed more ‘weakly’ than the previous examples of the rising triton by its harmonic context – a dominant seventh over a stationary bass note.

TITO TITUS

È pur di regna infelice il destino! How unfortunate is the destiny of rulers! A noi si nega ciò che a’ più bassi è dato. We are denied what is granted to the most humble.

In mezzo al bosco quel villanel mendico, Deep in the woods, any poor peasant, A cui circonda ruvida lana il rozzo fianco, His rough sides clad in coarse wool, A cui è mal fido riparo dell’ingiurie del ciel Whose shapeless hovel is an unreliable tugurio informe, shelter against the ravages of the heavens, Placid i sonni dorme, Sleeps a peaceful sleep, Passa tranquillo i dì. And spends his days in tranquillity.

Ex. 5.16. La clemenza di Tito K.621. Act 2, Scene 8. Recitative of Tito. Bars 30-32.

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Ex. 5.17. La clemenza di Tito K.621. Act 2, Scene 8. Recitative of Tito. Bars 36-39.

Kirnberger gives the rising major sixth seemingly opposing expressive qualities. He says the interval is: ‘merry, irascible, vehement/lustig, auffahrend, heftig’ (Kirnberger, 1776: Vol. 2, part 1, 103). These affective characteristics are often a feature of revenge arias in the dramma per musica. Cinna’s aria from Act II of Lucio Silla is an example, in which the rising major sixth conveys the sentiments of the text (see ex. 5.18). In this example, the ‘flexibility’ of this interval can be seen within the sequential setting of the interval – a minor key in the first instance, following by a major key.

CINNA CINNA

Nel fortunate istante, In the fortunate moment Che’ei già co’voti affretta To which he hurries eagerly, Per la comun vendetta I intend that, to avenge us all, Vuò, che mi spiri al piè. He shall die at my feet.

Già va una destra altera Already a proud hand Del colpo suo felice Is gladly preparing the blow E questa destra ultrice And this hand, eager for vengeance, Lungi da lui non è. Is not far away from him.

Ex. 5.18. Lucio Silla K.135. Act 2, Scene 6. Aria of Cinna. Bars 101-106.

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In another aria from Act II of Lucio Silla, the opening line of text from Cecilio’s aria Quest’improvviso tremito/This unexpected trembling is expressed through the use of the falling major sixth in the vocal line (see ex. 5.19). Kirnberger says this interval is ‘somewhat frightening/etwas schreckhaft’ (Kirnberger, 1776: Vol. 2, part 1, 104).

Ex. 5.19. Lucio Silla K.135. Act 2, Scene 3. Aria of Cecilio. Bars 6-11.

Rhetoricians felt that these larger leaps of a musical fifth or more were in the realm of ‘great pathos’ and were therefore defined as being of the pathetic accent (Ranum, 2001: 388). Ranum’s analysis of French treatises of the late seventeenth and eighteenth centuries shows comparable findings to the views of Kirnberger, regarding the emotional characteristics conveyed by the leap of a musical interval. Kirnberger’s description of the rising minor sixth corroborates with the above rhetorical view. He describes the interval as ‘lugubrious, pleading, coaxing/wehmüthig, bittend, schmeichelnd’ (Kirnberger, 1776: Vol. 2, part 1, 103). The rising minor sixth is used with great emotional intensity by Mozart in last line of text of Giunia’s final aria ‘Fra i pensier’ in Lucio Silla, in which the prima donna

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believes that the ghost of her husband Cecilio is calling her to follow him in death (see ex. 5.20). Here, the second rising minor sixth is followed by a diminished seventh, therefore making it much stronger.

GIUNIA JUNIA

Fra i pensier più funesti di morte Filled with melancholy thoughts of death Veder parmi l’esangue consorte I see my husband’s bloodless corpse, Che non gelida mano m’addita Showing me with his icy hand La fumante sanguigna ferita, His wound, still warm with his blood, E mi dice: Che tardi a morir? And saying to me: Why do you hesitate to die?

Già vacillo, già manco, già moro I falter, I faint, I die E l’estinto mio sposo, ch’adoro And hasten to follow the faithful shade Ombra fida m’affretto a seguir. Of my husband that I adore.

Ex. 5.20. Lucio Silla K.135. Act 3, Scene 5. Aria of Giunia. Bars 81-85.

The falling minor sixth has similar expressive qualities to its rising counterpart. Kirnberger says that the falling minor sixth conveys ‘dejection/niedergeschlagen’ (Kirnberger, 1776: Vol. 2, part 1, 104). Mozart uses this interval in the principal subject of the trio from Act II of 224

La clemenza di Tito to reflect Sesto’s emotions, as he is brought before the emperor Tito on charges of treason (see ex. 5.21).

SESTO SEXTUS

(Quello di Tito è il volto! (Is that the face of Titus? Ah dove, oh stelle, è andata Where, oh heavens, has his La sua dolcezza usata! Usual gentleness gone? Or ei mi fa tremar!) Now he makes me tremble!)

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Ex. 5.21. La clemenza di Tito K.621. Act 2, Scene 10. Trio. Bars 5-13.

The interval of the seventh, as the dissonance of the widest musical leap, displayed the extremes of emotional expression during the eighteenth century. Kirnberger asserts that the variants of this interval could convey contrasting passions through his descriptions of musical intervals. The rising minor seventh he says is ‘tender, sad, also (literally) unresolved/zärtlich, traurig, auch unentschlossen’ (Kirnberger, 1776: Vol. 2, part 1, 103). Falling sevenths are more commonly seen in Mozart’s compositions. Kirnberger describes the falling diminished seventh as ‘lamenting/wehklagend’; and the falling minor seventh as ‘somewhat terrifying/etwas fürchterlich’ (Kirnberger, 1776: Vol. 2, part 1, 104).

The rising minor seventh evokes the tender and unresolved emotions of Ascanio, as well as the unresolved plot in his last aria ‘Torna mio bene’ from Ascanio in Alba (see exs 5.22 and 5.23). Urged by his grandmother, the goddess , Ascanio hides his true identity from the nymph, Silvia, to test her virtue. Convinced that the ‘foreigner’ she has met is not Ascanio, Silvia declares she will never marry anyone else.

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ASCANIO

Torna mio bene, ascolta. Return, my love, listen. Il tuo fedel son io. I am your faithful one. Amami pur ben mio: Only love me, my love; No non t’inganna amor. No, does not deceive you.

Quella, che in seno accolta Keep that rare virtue Serbi virtu sì rara, Within your heart A gareggiar prepara And be prepared to contend Coll’innocente amor. With innocent love.

Ex. 5.22. Ascanio in Alba K.111. Part 2, Scene 5. Aria of Ascanio. Bars 59-66.

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Ex. 5.23. Ascanio in Alba K.111. Part 2, Scene 5. Aria of Ascanio. Bars 101-105.

Mozart uses the falling diminished seventh for great emotional effect in the tutti of the quartet from Act III of Idomeneo. The quartet marks a pivotal moment for the four primi and secondi characters in this dramma per musica, resulting in Idmanate’s resolution to go into exile to protect the population of ancient Crete’s capital city, Sidon, from the monster the god Neptune sent to terrorise it (see ex. 5.24). Once again, the key words of the tutti fall on the interval (highlighted below).

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TUTTI ALL

Soffrir più non si può. To suffer more is impossible. Peggio è di morte Worse than death Sì gran dolore. Is such great grief. Più fiera sorte, No one ever suffered Pena maggiore A harsher fate Nessun provò! Or greater punishment.

Ex. 5.24. Idomeneo, rè di Creta K.366. Act 3, Scene 3. Quartet. Bars 43-55.

The affective characteristic that Kirnberger attributes to the falling minor seventh is used by Mozart to reflect the sentiments of ’s first aria ‘Va, l’error mio palesa’ from Act II of Mitridate (see exs. 5.25 and 5.26). When Farnace tells Ismene, his intended bride, that he no

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longer loves her, she threatens to appeal to his father, Mitridate. In his aria, Farnace warns her that she may regret the consequences of doing so.

FARNACE PHARNACES

Va, l’error mio palesa, Go, reveal my wrongdoing, E la mia pena affretta, And hasten my punishment, Ma forse la vendetta, But maybe revenge Cara ti costerà. Will cost you dearly.

Quando sì lieve offesa When you see me punished Punita in me vedrai For such a slight offence, Te stessa accuserai You will accuse yourself Di troppa crudeltà. Of excessive cruelty.

Ex. 5.25. Mitridate, rè di Ponto K.87. Act 2, Scene 1. Aria of Farnace. Bars 19-22.

Ex. 5.26. Mitridate, rè di Ponto K.87. Act 2, Scene 1. Aria of Farnace. Bars 44-49.

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The strength of emotion conveyed by musical intervals not only applied within parts of a score, but could also be expressed between parts of a score. Lacépède, for example, proposes that emotion could equally be conveyed between a vocal line and its corresponding bass line, such as the examples of the augmented sixth mentioned above:

Should not each note offer a different expression and consequently exert a more or less varied action, according to whether it is at unison with the bass, is the major third, the minor third, the fifth, the second, and so forth, over the bass? Does not the generally weaker impression each note produced by itself, because of its greater or lesser gentleness [and] its more or less elevated pitch, unite with the impression created by the interval that it forms with the bass? And should that interval not renew such and such affection, paint such and such sentiment, be more or less agreeable, according to whether it departs a greater or a lesser degree from the natural harmony?

Chaque note ne doit-elle pas offrir une expression différente, et par conséquent exercer une action plus ou moins variée, suivant qu’elle sera l’unisson, la tierce majeure, la tierce mineure, la quinte, la seconde, etc. de la basse? L’impression communément assez foible, que chaque note produit par elle-même, à cause de sa douceur plus ou moins grande, de sa place ou moins élevée, ne se rénuit-elle pas alors à celle qui résulte de l’intervalle qu’elle forme avec la basse? Et cet intervalle ne doit-il pas renouveler telle ou telle affection, peindre tel ou tel sentiment, être plus ou moins agréable, suivant qu’elle s’éloigne plus ou moins de l’harmonie naturelle (Lacépède, 1785; Vol. 1, 291).

Perfect intervals were felt to support reposeful concepts, tender thoughts and express allusions to stability and self control; where these intervals tend to cluster, tender or reposeful thoughts are being expressed (Ranum, 2001: 354). Here again, Ranum’s argument is embedded in the French repertoire of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, but as can be seen in the examples below, it could be argued that these principles may equally be applicable to the German tradition of Italian-language musical drama of the late eighteenth century. An example of this principle in Mozart’s drammi per musica can be seen in the first aria of Il rè pastore (see ex. 4.1). The idyllic pastoral setting, where Aminta waits for Elisa is represented by the predominance of perfect intervals between the vocal and bass lines, especially in the musical setting of the first line of text (see ex. 5.27).

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Ex. 5.27. Il rè pastore K.208. Act 1, Scene 1. Aria of Aminta. Bars 6-11.

In contrast, imperfect intervals expressed more emotional, passionate or transitory ideas. Texts which convey fleeting or bright concepts tended to be set to a succession of imperfect intervals. Such a text and this application of imperfect intervals can be found in the first aria of the second part of Ascanio in Alba (see ex. 5.28). In this aria, Silvia contemplates her divinely ordained marriage to Ascanio.

SILVIA SILVIA

Spiega il desìo, le piume: Longing unfurls its wings, Vola il mio core, e geme; My heart soars and coos, Ma solo con la speme But only hope Poi mi ritorna al sen. Returns it to my breast.

Vieni col mio bel nume Come with my fair god Alfine, o mio desìo, At last, oh my longing. Dimmi una volta, oh Dio! Say to me just once, o god: Ecco l’amato ben. ‘Here is your beloved.’

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Ex. 5.28. Ascanio in Alba K.111. Part 2, Scene 1. Aria of Silvia. Bars 101-111.

Imperfect intervals were also employed to express painful sentiments. In his second aria ‘Il padre adorato’ from Act I of Idomeneo, Idamante is bewildered and overcome with grief 233

after his father banishes him from his sight, not yet knowing Idomeneo’s vow to the god Neptune. Mozart employs imperfect intervals to particularly heighten the expression of the last line of text (see ex. 5.29).

IDAMANTE IDAMANTES

Il padre adorato My adored father Ritrovo, e lo perdo. I find again, only to lose him. Mi fugge sdegnato He scorns and flees from me, Fremendo d’orror. Trembling with horror.

Morire credei I thought I would die Di gioia e d’amore: Of joy and love, Or, barbari Dei! But, cruel gods, M’uccide il dolor. Grief is killing me.

Ex. 5.29. Idomeneo, rè di Creta K.366. Act 1, Scene 10. Aria of Idamante. Bars 77-86.

Often composers of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries set texts which convey sentiments of duration or prolongation to a succession of imperfect intervals (Ranum, 2001: 355). Mozart was no exception, and in the first aria of Il sogno di Scipione (see below), Scipione’s uncertainty as a result of the haranguing of the goddesses Costanza and is expressed through a sequence of imperfect intervals (see ex. 5.30).

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SCIPIONE SCIPIO

Risolver non osa My confused mind Confusa la mente, Does not dare to decide, Che oppressa si sente, Oppressed as it is Da tanto stupor. By such a shock.

Delira, dubbiosa, When the heartbeat Incerta vaneggia fluctuates, Ogn’alma che ondeggia Every spirit Fra’moti del cor. raves incoherently.

Ex. 5.30. Il sogno di Scipione K.126. Scene 1. Aria of Scipione. Bars 90-92.

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The striking device of abrupt changes in pitch level has been termed ‘correspondences’. The term is not commonly seen in most sources and seems to be derived from Henri Morier’s Dictionnaire de poétique et de rhétorique (1989), drawn on frequently by Ranum in Harmonic Orator. This principle holds the essence that material objects and earthly beings participate in the spirits that move the world and the universe. An orator draws upon correspondences, in which he expresses alliteration, imitative sounds, speech rhythms, vowels and pitch (Ranum, 2001: 389-390). This concept is expressed by Rousseau in his Dictionnaire:

Speech is diversely accentuated according to the diverse passions that inspire it. It is sometimes intense and vehement, sometimes abated and slack, sometimes varied and impetuous, sometime equal and tranquil in its inflections. From this the musician derives different modes through which he makes the melody move and different levels where he keeps the voice, making it move in narrow intervals on low pitches to express the languor of sadness and despondency, wrenching from it the high-pitched, shrill sounds of hot-headedness and anguish, and dragging it rapidly through all the intervals of its range in the agitation of despair or the bewilderment of contrasting passions.

La parole est diversement accentuée selon les diverses passions qui l’inspirent, tantôt aiguë et véhémente, tantôt remisse et lâche, tantôt variée et impétueuse, tantôt égale et tranquille dans ses inflexions. De-là le Musicien tire des differences des Modes de Chant qu’il emploie et des lieux divers dans lequel il maintient la Voix, la faisant procéder dans le bas par de petits Intervalles pour exprimer les langeurs de la tristesse et de l’abatement, lui arrachant dans le haut les Sons aigus de l’emportement et de la douleur, et l’entraînant rapidement par tous les Intervalles de son Diapason dans l’agitation de desepoir ou l’égarement des passions contrastées (Rousseau, 1768: 208).

From the first generation of opera composition, identified three principal passions and affections and aligned them to registers of the voice: high with anger, mid-range with moderation and low with humility or supplication (Tarling, 2005: 75). Harmonic orators felt that a higher tessitura in the voice was naturally tenser than a lower range, which is more relaxed (Ranum, 2001: 389). Therefore, in musical orations, when a voice or instrument moves away from its natural range, it is used to reinforce a strong form of expression (Tarling, 2005: 75). 236

Higher pitches in a musical composition could also betray how much torment is being experienced by the orator. This is certainly the case in Aspasia’s Act III cavatina ‘Pallid’ombre’ from Mitridate, in which she hopes to find peace in death after refusing to marry Mitridate to save the life of the primo uomo, Sifare.

ASPASIA ASPASIA

Pallid’ombre, che scorgete Pallid shades, who see Dagli Elisi i mali miei, My misery from Elysium, Deh pietose a me rendete Pray restore to me Tutto il ben, che già perdei. All the happiness which I lost.

Mozart divides the range of his vocal writing, according to the ideas expressed in the text. The first couplet is composed to low pitches in a supplicative tone, as Aspasia prays to the souls in the Elysian Fields (see ex. 5.31), while the second couplet is set to an extremely higher range, of over an octave higher, as Aspasia makes an appeal to have happiness restored to her (see ex. 5.32).

Ex. 5.31. Mitridate, rè di Ponto K.87. Act 3, Scene 4. Cavatina of Aspasia. Bars 61-66.

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Ex. 5.32. Mitridate, rè di Ponto K.87. Act 3, Scene 4. Cavatina of Aspasia. Bars 80-84.

The use of wide intervals not only expressed the emotions behind whole sections of text, but they could also highlight the emotional intensity of particular words (Ranum, 2001: 388). In Elettra’s aria ‘Tutte nel cor vi sento’ from Act I of Idomeneo, which is a jealous tirade against Idamante for loving Ilia and Ilia herself, Mozart consistently employs leaps of over an octave to place the word averno/Hades in the spotlight (see ex. 5.33). This is a paradoxical setting of the text: while the voice initially plunges on the first syllable of averno, the voice then rises to an extreme (an interval of a tenth), as Mozart expresses the depth of Elettra’s anger.

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Ex. 5.33. Idomeneo, rè di Creta K.366. Act 1, Scene 6. Aria of Elettra. Bars 20-30.

Considering his skilful use of these intervallic and harmonic devices, the vocal compositions of Mozart and his contemporaries were fundamentally considered by theorists to be a poetic recitation set to music. Conveying the passions of these works to an audience required that the composer should have a consummate knowledge of the art of rhetoric, whether explicitly studied or absorbed intuitively through his musical training. Rousseau comments on this in his Dictionnaire:

It is not in cold blood that one finds the language of the passions, and it is an old saw that one must be moved oneself in order to move others. To find the pathetic accent, nothing can therefore replace this genius that arouses all the sentiments at will. And here the sole art is to kindle in one’s own heart the fire that one wishes to transmit to the hearts of others.

On ne trouve point de sang-froid le langage des passions, et c’est une vérité rebattue qu’il faut être ému soi-même pour émouvoir les autres. Rien ne peut donc suppléer dans la recherche de l’Accent pathétique à ce génie qui réveille à volonté tous les sentimens, et il n’y a d’autre Art en cette partie que d’allumer en son propre coeur le feu qu’on veut porter dans celui des autres (Rousseau, 1768: 4).

By imitating the tone of voice of each emotion, poetic and musical recitation expressed the different passions of the soul. As the expression of the passions was highly codified, treatises of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries discuss the distinctive tones of voice

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implied by interval choice in a similar way to the energeia associated with each of the modes (see Chapter IV). Lacépède explains:

A stage character need but be stirred by some sentiment and he abandons, so to speak, the declamation of his language. ... He uses only those [intonations] that the passions dictate to him. He employs only the higher or lower sounds that the sentiment inspires. If he raises [the pitch of] his voice, it is because the sounds that can serve as signs of the passion agitating him are high. If he lowers his pitch, it is because they are low. In short, he utters only the cries or tones of voice associated with each affection. ... These sounds are always the same when a given passion is involved and is felt to the same degree. All this is independent of the language.

Pour peu que le personnage soit animé de quelque sentiment, il abandonne, pour ainsi dire, la déclamation de la langue; ... il ne prend que [les intonations] que les passions lui dictent; il n’emploie que les sons plus ou moins graves ou aigus que le sentiment lui inspire: s’il élève sa voix, c’est parce que les sons qui peuvent server de signes à la passion qui l’agite, sont élevés; s’il l’abaisse, c’est parce qu’ils sont graves; il ne profère enfin que les cris ou les tons attachés à chaque affection. ... Ces sons sont toujours les mêmes, toutes les fois qu’il s’agit de la même passion, et d’une passion ressentie au même degré; tout ceci est indépendant de la langue (Lacépède, 1785: Vol. 2, 53).

Lacépède’s treatise also asserts that this imitation of passionate speech is the raison d’être of a musical composition:

When imitating the passions in airs and in places where he will truly be singing, the musician will employ those melodic phrases ... that derive such great power from their resemblance to the signs of the sentiments, and that must serve as a link to the most faithful images of the affections of our souls. In the accompaniment he will place everything that can present or renew the image of the passions that he wants to paint, all the signs that can characterise it.

Le musicien emploiera, pour imiter les passions dans les airs et dans les endroits où il chantera véritablement, ces phrases de chant ... qui tirent une si grande puissance de leur ressemblance avec les signes des sentimens, et qui doivent servir de liaison aux images plus fidèles des affections de notre ame. Il placera dans les accompagnemens tout ce qui pourra présenter ou renouveller l’image des passions qu’il voudra peindre, tous les signes qui pourront les caractériser (Lacépède, 1785: Vol. 2, 132).

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Melodic lines

Seventeenth- and eighteenth-century writings on rhetoric and aesthetics are unanimous in asserting that music imitates the melodies that characterise different emotions in speech. These distinctive melodic patterns were considered to be modelled on everyday speech (Ranum, 2001: 399-400). The emotional states imitated in musical composition were often based on Aristotle’s descriptions of the emotions in Art of Rhetoric. Aristotle explains that humankind is subject to any emotional state as a result of three contributing factors: their underlying psychological condition, the events that provoke the emotion and the intentional objects of the emotion (2.1, Aristotle trans. Lawson-Tancred, 1991: 141). Just as individual intervals evoked states of mind, the larger units of melodic line were similarly seen to convey affect.

Music theorists of the eighteenth century draw a comparison between the principle of imitation and the visual arts. French author and poet, Jean-Laurent de la Viéville Le Cerf (1674-1707) provides an early eighteenth-century commentary on imitation in Comparison de la musique italienne et de la musique françoise (1704), saying that it is ‘doing with words what a painter does with colours/c’est de faire avec des paroles ce que le Peintre fait avec des couleurs’ (Le Cerf, 1705 edn: 168). This view continued to be held through to the mid century, according to Diderot’s Encyclopédie: ‘Music is an imitation, and an imitation is only, and can only be, the true expression of the sentiment one wishes to paint. Poetry expresses by words, painting by colours, music by melodies; and the words, the colours and the melodies must be suitable for expressing what one wishes to say, paint or sing./La musique est une imitation, et l’imitation n’est et ne peut être que l’expression véritable du sentiment qu’on veut peindre. La Poésie exprime par les paroles, la Peinture par les couleurs, la Musique par les chants; et les paroles, les couleurs, les chants doivent être propres à exprimer ce qu’on veut dire, peindre, ou chanter’ (Cahusac quoted in Diderot, 1751: Vol. 1, 1337).

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Calm and respose

The emotional states of calm, repose and constancy were regularly a subject for imitation in music from the seventeenth century. Grounded in the writings of the ancient philosophers, such as Aristotle, seventeenth-century publications on rhetoric, particularly the French sources, provide definitions of the characteristic qualities of the emotions. These French treatises had considerable influence on the rhetorically based articles in the eighteenth- century Encyclopédies. Many of the articles in these Encyclopédies include translations of those written by German theorists, such as Sulzer’s Allgemeine Theorie, revealing the widespread acceptance of these ideas throughout Europe.

In musical composition, calm is often imitated by the use of long notes (Ranum, 2001: 369). This principle certainly holds true in Mozart’s drammi per musica. In Idomeneo’s final aria ‘Torna la pace’ from Idomeneo, the word pace/peace is set to a sustained note that spans two bars. The long note in the vocal line is also mirrored in the orchestral accompaniment (see ex. 5.34). In this example, Aristotle’s description of calm in Art of Rhetoric concurs with the plot, in which Idomeneo abdicates the throne of Crete, following a decree from Neptune, releasing Idomeneo from his sacrificial vow and placing his intended victim, Idamante, on the throne. Aristotle writes: ‘Let calming, then, be a suspension and placation of anger. ... It is obvious, then, that those who wish to calm the audience down should speak from these premises, bringing the audience into the appropriate condition by making out those with whom they are angry to be either fearsome or worthy of respect or having done favours or acted involuntarily or being excessively pained at their deeds’ (2.3, Aristotle, trans. Lawson-Tancred, 1991: 147, 149).

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Ex. 5.34. Idomeneo, rè di Creta K.366. Act 3, Scena ultima. Aria of Idomeneo. Bars 123-128.

This aria also features the melodic line of peace and continuity. Idomeneo expresses that the hope of tranquillity has arrived and this peaceful situation will persist through the reign of his son. An element of agitation can also be seen in the chromatic setting of al core/to my heart (see above for the affective characteristic of intervals), which is ‘pulling’ against the ‘calm’ of the long notes. Here we can see an example of the mix of emotions that Mozart is able to evoke within a single phrase (see ex. 5.35).

IDOMENEO IDOMENEUS

Torna la pace al core, Peace returns to my heart, Torna lo spento ardore; Extinguished ardour is rekindled; Fiorisce in me l’età. Youth is reborn in me.

Tal la stagion di Flora Thus does Flora’s season L’albero annoso infiora, Make the old tree bloom again Nuovo vigor gli dà. And give it fresh vigour.

In musical orations where peace and calm has been attained, the fluctuations in pitch remain relatively narrow. The Comte de Lacépède writes of these peaceful sentiments in Poétique:

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Agreeable serenity, happy calm, gentle peace, ... what a sweet, pure and tranquil melody announces your approach! ... A moderate movement regulates these upper voices. ... The [chords] present none but the weakest dissonances. What simplicity! It is the sweetest harmony. ... The upper voices that develop amid these so simple yet so harmonious chords, do not move through great musical intervals, do not rise to great heights. Few notes are employed. ... It is, in a way, painting of the absence of all passions. ... This is the picture of tranquillity.

Agréable sérénité, calme heureux, douce paix, ... quelle mélodie douce, pure et tranquille annonce votre approche! ... Un mouvement modéré règle ces chants. ... [Les accords] à peine présentent-ils la dissonance la plus foible. Quelle simplicité! c’est l’harmonie la plus douce. ... Les chants qui se développent au milieu de ces accords si simples mais si harmonieux, ne franchissent point de grands intervalles, ils ne s’élèvent point à de grandes hauteurs; peu de notes y sont répandues; ... c’est, en quelque sorte, la peinture de l’absence de toutes les passions. ... Tel est le tableau de la tranquillité (Lacépède, 1785: Vol. 1, 235-236).

The ideas presented by Lacépède suggest the nuances associated with the melodic line of peace and continuity. In Idomeneo’s aria, these sentiments are expressed by a melodic line which dips, then rises again in a convex-shaped phrase. This dipping curve conveys the intention to continue peace and avoid further conflict, which is represented here at its lowest point by the word pace. The rising ends of the phrases in this type of melodic line tend to be occupied by important poetic relays, in this case al core/to my heart (see ex. 5.35).

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Ex. 5.35. Idomeneo, rè di Creta K.366. Act 3, Scena ultima. Aria of Idomeneo. Bars 9-13.

The musical imitation of repose is often expressed by a descending melodic line, which moves by a succession of plateaux. In Ilia’s aria ‘Se il padre perdei’ from Act II of Idomeneo, this type of melodic line again leads to a poetic repose on the word riposo/repose (see ex. 5.36).

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Ex. 5.36. Idomeneo, rè di Creta K.366. Act 2, Scene 2. Aria of Ilia. Bars 12-18.

Constancy

The melodic line of constancy is marked by a steady rhythmic cadence and the preferred use of equal note values. Furtière defines constancy as: ‘Force of mind that keeps the soul in a given condition, a given firmness, irrespective of any perturbation the body suffers from pain, affliction, need or other similar causes./Force d’esprit qui entretient toujours l’âme dans une même assiette, en une même fermeté, quelque ébranlement que souffre le corps par la douleur, l’affliction, la necessité, ou autres causes semblables’ (Furtière, 1690).

These elements of constancy are particularly evident in the closing section of Aminta’s rondeaux ‘L’amerò’ from Il rè pastore. A steady rhythmic cadence can be seen alternating between the vocal part and the accompanying orchestra; meanwhile, equal rhythmic values on the last two syllables of costante/constant lead to the poetic reposes, which fall on the first beat of the bar (see ex. 5.37).

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Ex. 5.37. Il rè pastore K.208. Act 2, Scene 6. Rondeaux of Aminta. Bars 111-120.

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Assertions

In a sentence which states an assertion, the tone of voice usually rises slowly, then descends to a level lower than its starting pitch. Bernard Lamy explains in L’Art de parler: ‘We raise [the pitch of] our voice only at the beginning of a clause, and we lower it only at the end. ... because naturally, and artlessly, one raises the voice when beginning to express a complete meaning, and one lowers it at the end of that expression./Nous n’élevons la voix qu’au commencement du sens, et nous ne la rabaissons qu’à la fin. ... puisque naturellement et sans art on éleve la voix en commençant l’expression d’un sens parfait, et qu’on la rabaisse sur la fin de cette expression’ (Lamy, 1699 edn: 227).

The second section of Sifare’s aria ‘Lungi da te’ from Act II of Mitridate opens with an assertion: Parto, mia bella, addio/I go, my beautiful one, farewell, which is reflected in the melodic line (see ex. 5.38).

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Ex. 5.38. Mitridate, rè di Ponto K.87. Act 2, Scene 7. Aria of Sifare. Bars 65-71.

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The brief assertion often incorporates an exclamation, in which the resulting melodic line follows just one of the slopes of an assertion. Bretteville explains the role of the exclamation: ‘An exclamation, as its name implies, requires quite a lofty, firm and vehement tone of voice./L’Exclamation comme son nom même le montre, demande un ton élevé, ferme et vehement’ (Bretteville, 1689: 477).

In an exclamation that expresses either pleasure or an assertive command, the resulting melodic line tends to descend, as in this example from Il rè pastore (see ex. 5.39): Ah proteggete o Dei, questo innocente amor./Oh, protect, o gods, this innocent love.

Ex. 5.39. Il rè pastore K.208. Act 1, Scene 8. Duet of Aminta and Elisa. Bars 38-41.

On the other hand, a brief assertion, in which strong emotion is expressed, can cause the voice to rise gradually, as it becomes tenser. This is certainly the case in Giunia’s first aria from Act II of Lucio Silla, in which Giunia urges Cinna to protect her husband Cecilio from Silla: Ah se il crudel periglio, del caro ben rammento/When I think of the cruel danger of my beloved (see ex. 5.40).

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Ex. 5.40. Lucio Silla K.135. Act 2, Scene 5. Aria of Giunia. Bars 29-36.

Desire

The melodic line of desire adopts the convex shaped phrasing structure of continuity, as desire strives to keep the things it possesses, although unlike the melodic line of continuity, that of desire places the key statement of the poetic line at the lowest point of the melodic curve. Once again, the French rhetoricians state that desire can be either violent or languid,

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and the ensuing the undecided sentiments, which are often torn between love or hate need to be pronounced with appropriate tones of voice (Ranum, 2001: 402, 404).

Sesto’s aria ‘Parto, parto’ from Act I of La clemenza di Tito expresses these conflicting emotions, as the primo uomo prepares to murder his friend, Tito in order to win the affections of Vitellia. The melodic line of desire can be seen in the final section of this aria: Ah qual poter, oh Dei, donaste alla beltà./Ah, what power, o gods, you have given to beauty! The key words of this couplet, poter and beltà, occupy the low points of the melodic phrase (see ex. 5.41). The brief assertion of an exclamation is also evident in this example.

Ex. 5.41. La clemenza di Tito K.621. Act 1, Scene 9. Aria of Sesto. Bars 104-108.

Love and tenderness

The melodic line of love and tenderness shares many attributes with the melodic line of calm. While love was viewed as a relatively calm emotion in seventeenth- and eighteenth- century sources, the pitch level tends to be more elevated than it would be in normal speech. Love may be expressed through the rhythmic density of ‘long’ vowels and the resulting melodic line develops into a wave-like formation (see ex. 5.42). French singer Jean-

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Antoine Bérard (1710-1772) imparts in the treatise L’Art du chant how the singer-orator must express sentiments of love: ‘One must exhale weakly for some time on each sound, by which one will impart to it an ambience of duration and of gentleness that is suitable for tenderness. ... One must pronounce gently and clearly the words that express tranquil, tender and amiable passions./Il faut expirer quelque tems et mollement sur chaque Son; par- là on lui imprimera un caractère de durée et de douceur propre à la tendresse. ... Il faut prononcer avec douceur et clarité les paroles qui experiment les passions tranquilles, tendres et aimables’ (Bérard, 1755: 31, 72-73).

The melodic arc of love is particularly evident in the tutti of the Act III duet from Idomeneo, as well as the proliferation of long vowels.

ILIA, IDAMANTE ILIA, IDAMANTES

Ah il gioir sorpassa in noi Ah, our happiness overcomes Il sofferto affanno rio: The cruel grief we have suffered: Tutto vince il nostro ardor. Our ardour conquers all.

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Ex. 5.42. Idomeneo, rè di Creta K.366. Act 3, Scene 2. Duet of Ilia and Idamante. Bars 32-37.

Joy

When sentiments of joy are expressed, words of secondary importance tend to be elongated, which is usually the case for key words expressed in other emotional states. Often composers embellished, ornamented or set these secondary words to melismatic passages as a way of coveying length or longevity. Lacépède provides a late eighteenth- century perspective on the musical expression of joy:

To paint joy, even the most perceptible joy, the musician need only add motion to the painting of tranquillity, animate it and make it lighter. Joy has its cries. The musician will scatter them throughout, in the upper voice or the accompaniment. Sometimes he will even to go excess in the accompaniment, to express rapture, and into the accompaniment he will weave rocket-like runs of notes, very hasty passages and so forth: ... and in expressions of pure joy he usually will use neither the minor mode nor a great number of minor thirds. ...

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Pour peindre la joie, et même celle qui est la plus sensible, le musicien n’a qu’à jete du mouvement dans la peinture de la tranquillité, qu’à l’animer, qu’à la rendre plus légère. La joie a ses cris; il les répandra soit dans le chant, soit dans les accompagnemens, quelquefois même il chargera ces accompagnemens, pour exprimer des transports; il y mêlera des fusées de notes, des traits précipités, etc. ... et même le plus souvent il n’emploiera dans l’expression de la joie pure ... ni mode mineur, ni un grand nombre de tierces mineures. ... (Lacépède, 1785: Vol. 1, 236).

These elements can be seen in Silvia’s second aria from part one of Ascanio in Alba (see below).

SILVIA SILVIA

Come è felice stato How happy is the state Quello d’un alma fida, Of that faithful soul Ove innocenza annida, Where innocence dwells E non condanna amor. And love does not condemn.

Del viver suo beato That soul is ever content Sempre contenta è l’alma: With its blessings, E sempre in dolce calma The heart always beats on Va palpitando il cor. In sweet calm.

The ‘run of notes’ and ‘very hasty passages’, of which Lacépède speaks of, are a feature of the second violin and viola parts in the exordium and narratio of this musical oration. The ‘cries of joy’ can be seen in the use of the rising major sixth in the opening statement of the vocal line, where the interval’s affective characteristic reflects the sentiment of the first line of text (see above). Elongation is also given to seemingly unimportant words, such as come/how and quello/that (see ex. 5.43).

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Ex. 5.43. Ascanio in Alba K.111. Part 1, Scene 4. Aria of Silvia. Bars 19-24.

The word stato/state is also singled out for melismatic treatment, which rises gradually by plateaux (see ex. 5.44).

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Ex. 5.44. Ascanio in Alba K.111. Part 1, Scene 4. Aria of Silvia. Bars 95-106.

Surprise

The ways in which surprise was portrayed in music changed considerably during the course of the eighteenth century. Treatises from the early part of that century focus on the use of melodic intervals to convey this affect, in which the larger the interval in the vocal part of a composition, the greater the stupefaction being expressed. Sources of the later eighteenth century indicate that surprise could also be achieved by sudden changes in tonal modulation, or orchestral texture, as Lacépède again explains: ‘In a way, surprise is too brief to be considered a passion. ... The musician will find it easy to depict and arouse. To do this, he need merely pass suddenly to a foreign modulation, to a new melody or to a different accompaniment. The greater the surprise, the more he will have to resort to a melody, to a 259

modulation, to accompaniments that are far-removed./La surprise a trop peu de durée, pour pouvoir, en quelque sorte, porter le nom de passion. ... Le musicien la représentera, et la fera naître aisément. Il n’a, pour cela, qu’à passer tout d’un coup dans une modulation étrangère, dans une mélodie nouvelle, dans une genre d’accompagnemens différent. Plus la surprise sera grande, et plus il faudra qu’il air recours à une mélodie, à une modulation, à des accompagnemens éloignés’ (Lacépède, 1785: Vol. 1, 220).

The element of surprise often takes the form of an exclamation, or a question, in which the pitch tends to rise at the end to represent that a definitive reply is expected (Ranum, 2001: 410). This is the case in Cecilio’s recitativo obbligato ‘Morte fatal’ from Lucio Silla. In this recitative, Cecilio’s contemplation of the deeds and death of Rome’s heroes is suddenly interrupted by the approach of his wife, Giunia and her retinue. The marked distinction in sentiment is expressed both poetically and musically.

CECILIO CECILIUS ... e or qui gl’avvolge un muto orror ... and now they are enfolded in deep silent profondo. gloom.

Oh Dei! ... Chi mai s’appressa? ... Ye Gods! ... Who is approaching? ...

While there is not a large musical leap in the vocal line to evoke surprise, Mozart does employ successive falls of a fifth in the first violin part as he approaches a new musical motif (see ex. 5.45). Mozart also introduces a change in tempo and chromatically striking harmony, as well as trumpet and horn parts to the orchestral texture.

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Ex. 5.45. Lucio Silla K.135. Act 1, Scene 7. Recitative of Cecilio. Bars 26-40.

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Sadness

Theorists and rhetoricians of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries write of a clear distinction in the expression of sadness – between anguish and lament. The descriptions of sad emotions during this period find analogies with Aristotle’s description of pity in The Art of Rhetoric: ‘Let pity then, be a certain pain occasioned by an apparently destructive evil or pain’s occurring to one who does not deserve it, which the pitier might expect to suffer himself or that one of his own would, and this whenever it should seem near at hand’ (2.8, Aristotle trans. Lawson-Tancred, 1991: 163).

The Comte de Lacépède gives a detailed musical interpretation of expressions of anguish and lament:

If the musician wants to portray mortal anguish, let him portray Ariadne dying: the torment oppressing this unfortunate lover permits her to exhale her laments only as interrupted accents. The musician will make these heart-rending sounds heard, sometimes in rapid succession, moving through small intervals and rising with great effort until they manage to become nothing but shrill cries that tear out the heart; sometimes slower and more grave, to express dark despair. ... He need only avoid melodic passages that are too strong, a harmony that is too heart-rending, chords that are too elaborate, passages of rapid notes that are too precipitous, and too many notes piled together. ... Let him write only gentle and touching melodies and suave chords. Now and then, at equal intervals, let the music stop, as if imitating the rhythmic reposes of a long lament. Let the tempo in general not be too hasty, but let it match that external quietness that accompanies reverie, melancholy, sadness. ... The musician who wants to convey [pity] should, if possible, let his tableau be preceded by a depiction of sadness. How naturally the soul will then lead toward pity! ... To paint and stir pity, the musician will use all the signs of anguish, but a gentle anguish; ... let the musician also use colours of sadness here. ... Let him imitate moans, but let him make them gentle; let him make them touching, let him add the expression of tenderness. ... And how does one paint anguish? ... Let everything moan; let even the bass produce sadly accentuated sounds; let tender chords and minor thirds abound; let the minor mode predominate. Sadness and anguish go hand in hand so often that musicians should have recourse to those moderate, frequent but very brief forte that paint sobs and moans so successfully, and employ those sounds that are sustained with effort, that swell when anguish increases and that die out when anguish begins to calm, or when the voice is no longer strong enough to lament.

Que le musicien veuille peindre une douleur mortelle, qu’il fasse voir Ariane expirante: le tourment qui oppresse cette amante infortunée, ne lui permet d’exhaler ses plaints qu’en accens entrecoupés: le musicien fera entendre ces sons déchirans, 263

tantôt se succédant avec rapidité, parcourant de petits intervalles, et s’élevant avec effort, jusqu’à ce qu’ils soient parvenus à n’être que des cris aigus qui arrachent le coeur; tantôt plus lents, plus graves, exprimant le sombre désepoir. ... Qu’il évite seulement les traits trop forts, l’harmonie trop déchirante, les accords trop recherchés, les passages trop précipités, les notes trop entassés. ... Qu’il cherche uniquement les chants doux et touchants, les accords suaves; que de temps en temps, et par intervalles égaux, sa musique s’arrête, comme pour imiter les repos périodiques d’une longue complainte; qu’en général, le mouvement ne soit pas trop pressé, mais qu’il s’accommode avec cette quiétude extérieure qui accompagne la rêverie, la mélancholie, la tristesse. ... Que le musicien qui voudra représenter [la pitié], fasse donc, s’il est possible, précéder son tableau par celui de la tristesse. Comme alors l’ame se portera naturellement vers la pitié! ... Pour faire voir et exciter la pitié, que le musicien emploie tous les signes de la douleur, mais d’une douleur douce; ... que le musicien emploie encore ici les couleurs de la tristesse; ... qu’il imite des gémissements, mais qu’il les adoucisse; qu’il les rend touchants, qu’il y joigne l’expression de la tendresse. ... Et la douleur comment la peindre? ... Que tout y gémisse; que les basses même produisent des sons tristement accentués; que les accords tendres, que les tierces mineures y soient prodigués; que le ton mineur paroisse de préference: la tristesse et la douleur vont si souvent ensemble que le musicien ait recours à ces forte modérés, fréquens, mais d’une très-courte durée, qui peignent si bien les sanglots et les gémissemens, à ces sons soutenus avec effort, qui s’enflent avec la douleur qui augmente, et qui retombent ensuite lorsque la douleur commence à se calmer, ou lorsque la voix ne peut plus suffire à la plainte (Lacépède, 1785: Vol. 1, 209-212, 228).

Anguish

An expression of anguish, such as this, can be particularly seen in the opening section of the final aria ‘Fra i pensier’ from Lucio Silla, in which Giunia believes that her husband Cecilio has been led away to his execution. The instrumental exordium of the aria portrays Lacépède’s idea of lament through the interrupted musical motif. Mozart employs the triplet figurations of the upper strings, which are further supported by repeated notes in the bass line, to convey Giunia’s sobs and moans of anguish. This affect is further enhanced by the use of a forte dynamic marking on the final weak beat of the opening bars. The vocal line alternates between the semitone and larger intervals, which lead to higher pitches that often highlight important words in the text, such as: morte/death (see ex. 5.46).

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Ex. 5.46. Lucio Silla K.135. Act 3, Scene 5. Aria of Giunia. Bars 1-9.

The second section of this aria begins with short interjections in the vocal line, which are matched by the accompanying orchestral writing to convey Giunia’s failing strength, which 265

is expressed through the text: Già vacillo, già manco, già moro/I falter, I faint, I die (see ex. 5.47).

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Ex. 5.47. Lucio Silla K.135. Act 3, Scene 5. Aria of Giunia. Bars 30-40.

Lament and pity

The pitch range of an aria which expresses either lament or pity was seen during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries to be less restricted than an aria in which anguish was portrayed. In expressions of lament or pity, the voice is weak, dragging and plaintive. Orations which express these emotions often tell of solitary places, sad or frightening thoughts (Ranum, 2001: 412). French composer Pierre Perrin (c1620-1675) writes:

For matters that should arouse sadness or pity, I chose my subjects from among the objects that stir these sorts of passions: wildernesses, rocks, caverns, prisons and all the things that cause hearts to see images of horror or compassion.

Dans les matières qui doyvent exciter la tristesse ou la pitié, j’ay pris mon sujet les objects qui excitant cette nature des passions, les deserts, les rochers, les caverns, les prisons et toutes les choses qui portent dans les coeurs des images d’horreur ou de compassion (Perrin, 1986 edn: ix).

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The extreme of emotion seen in the melodic line of anguish is less ‘harsh’ in that of lament or pity. These emotions are expressed in the first section of Idomeneo’s aria ‘Vedrommi intorno’ from Act I of Idomeneo, as the King of Crete reflects on the sacrificial vow he has made to Neptune, to be carried out on the return to his homeland.

IDOMENEO IDOMENEUS

Vedrommi intorno I shall see about me L’ombra dolente, A lamenting shade Che notte e giorno: Which night and day Sono innocente Will cry to me, M’accenderà. ‘I am innocent.’

Nel sen trafitto, The blood spilt Nel corpo esangue From his pierced breast, Il mio delitto, His scattered blood Lo sparso sangue Will point out to me M’additerà. ... My crime. ...

Mozart expresses the dragging of the voice, which rhetoricians saw as necessary to convey lament, not through the vocal line of Idomeneo’s aria, but in the orchestral accompaniment, representing his emotional state. This idea is portrayed musically through the use of the repeated note motif, which can be seen particularly in the writing for the wind instruments. Lament was also felt to be characterised musically through sustained notes, which are evident in the vocal line of the aria (see ex. 5.48).

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Ex. 5.48. Idomeneo, rè di Creta K.366. Act 1, Scene 9. Aria of Idomeneo. Bars 16-29.

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Threat or fear

The melodic line of threat or fear causes the pitch range of the voice to narrow. The throat tightens considerably, resulting in a melodic line that can tend to become frozen from the fear being expressed. Aristotle defines fear as: ‘... a kind of pain or disturbance resulting from the imagination of impending danger, either destructive or painful; for not all evils are feared, such as that someone should become unjust or slow, but such as can produce great pain or destruction, and these if they are not remote but near, so as to seem impending’ (2.5, Aristotle trans. Lawson-Tancred, 1991: 153).

Lacépède elaborates further from an eighteenth-century musical perspective:

[Fear] shivers often; its gait is uncertain and vacillating; its voice echoes its gait; it hesitates, it stops as if to examine, it advances, and suddenly it flees precipitously. ... Let the upper voices be vacillating and uncertain, as with fear. Let them change rhythm often. Let the music stop, in a way, from time to time, then continue its march. Let it, so to speak, sometimes appear to retreat, by changing rhythm or genre, then let it present rapid melodic passages and a succession of several notes, to show the precipitation of a forced retreat. Sometimes let sustained sounds show attentiveness, and let them yield to new rapid passages that represent the trembling to which attentiveness yields at the least noise.

[La crainte] frissonne souvent; sa démarche est incertaine et vacillante; sa voix se ressent de sa démarche; elle hésite: elle s’arrête comme pour examiner; elle avance, et tout d’un coup s’enfuit précipitamment. ... Que les chants soient, comme la crainte, vacillantes et incertains; qu’ils changent souvent de rhythme; que la musique s’arrête en quelque sorte de temps en temps, qu’ensuite elle continue sa marche; que, pour ainsi dire, elle paroisse quelquefois revenir sur ses pas, en changeant de rhythme ou de genre, et qu’elle présente des traits rapides, et une succession de plusieurs notes, pour désigner la précipitation d’une retraite forcée. Quelquefois, que des sons soutenus marquent l’attention, et fassent place à de nouveaux traits rapides: ceux-ci représenteront le tressaillement qui au moindre bruit succède à l’attention (Lacépède, 1785: Vol. 1, 206-207).

All of the characteristics which Lacépède writes of above are present in Giunia’s second aria from Act II of Lucio Silla, she resolves to plead for her husband’s life to the Roman Senate and even follow him to his death, rather than be forced to marry the dictator Silla.

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GIUNIA JUNIA

Parto, m’affretto. I go, I hasten. Ma nel partire In leaving Il cor si spezza. My heart breaks. Mi manca l’anima, My soul fails, Morir mi sento. I feel near death. Nè so morir, I cannot die. E smanio, e gelo, I yearn, and freeze, e piango, e peno. And weep, and suffer. Ah potessi almeno, Could I, at least, Fra tanti spasimi Die thus from morir così. so many agonies.

Ma per maggior duolo But to increase my grief Verso un amante oppressa Death itself today scorns Divien la morte istessa An oppressed lover Pietosa in questo dì. Bowed down with care.

Lacépède’s characterisation of threat or fear is evident in Mozart’s setting of this aria. The short poetic lines, which are often broken by mid-line caesurae, are composed accordingly in a variety of musical motifs, which are matched by equally diverse motifs in the accompanying orchestration and wide-ranging dynamic contrasts (see ex. 5.49).

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Ex. 5.49. Lucio Silla K.135. Act 2, Scene 11. Aria of Giunia. Bars 20-31.

Mozart isolates specific words of the text or group of words for musical affect, such as morir/to die; the melismatic treatment of spasimi/agonies; and the use of the rhetorical figure of tmesis (see Chapter II) to express the line: Mi manca l’anima/My soul fails (see exs. 5.50 and 5.51).

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Ex. 5.50. Lucio Silla K.135. Act 2, Scene 11. Aria of Giunia. Bars 65-75.

Ex. 5.51. Lucio Silla K.135. Act 2, Scene 11. Aria of Giunia. Bars 5-9.

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Anger

Describing anger in Art of Rhetoric Aristotle says: ‘Let anger, then, be desire, accompanied by pain, for revenge for an obvious belittlement of oneself or one of one’s dependants, the belittlement being uncalled for’ (2.2, Aristotle trans. Lawson-Tancred, 1991: 142).

Of the musical expression of anger, Lacépède writes:

In anger, everything is animated. Anger often bursts out; its march is interrupted, its voice broken up. Should not the musician therefore paint it by means of an animated music whose upper voice or accompaniments are interrupted and where, from time to time, he intermingles noisy melodic passages with great harmonic masses? ... Anger becomes a sort of delirium; it is transformed into fury. The musician will paint that terrible passion [fury] in the way he painted anger, but all the rapid melodic passages should offer the most lively expression. The voice will be broken, ... the upper voice and the accompaniments will all bear the imprint of the greatest disorder. ... Let the harmony momentarily lose its purity; let it include from time to time the harshest, most charged, most extraordinary chords, and the most daring dissonances from passing notes. Let the modulations leave the well-travelled highways.

Dans la colère tout est animé; elle éclate souvent; sa demarché est interrompue, sa voix entrecoupée; le musicien ne devra-t-il pas, d’après cela, la peindre par le moyen d’une musique animée dont le chant ou les accompagnemens soient interrompus, et où, de temps en temps, il mêle des traits bruyans, et de grandes masses d’harmonie? ... La colère devient une espèce de délire; elle se change en fureur. Le musicien peindra cette passion terrible [la fureur], comme il aura représenté la colère; mais tous les traits devront offrir l’expression la plus vive; la voix sera entrecoupée, ... le chant, les accompagnemens, tout portera l’empreinte du plus grand désordre. ... Que l’harmonie perde pour un moment sa pureté; qu’elle fasse entendre de temps en temps les accords les plus durs, les plus chargés, les plus extraordinaires, et les suppositions les plus hardies; que les modulations sortent des routes communes (Lacépède, 1785: Vol. 1, 201-202).

The musical elements which Lacépède writes of as portraying anger can be seen in Mozart’s setting of Mitridate’s second aria ‘Già di pieta mi spoglio’ from Act II of Mitridate (see below). In this aria, Mitridate rages against his betrothed, Aspasia and his two sons for their treachery.

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MITRIDATE MITHRIDATES

Già di pieta mi spoglio I already strip my heart of pity. Anime ingrate, il seno: Ungrateful souls: Per voi già sciolgo il freno, For you, traitors, I give Perfidi, al mio furor. Free rein to my fury.

Padre ed amante offeso An offended father and lover, Voglio vendetta, e voglio I want vengeance and I want Che opprima entrambi il peso The weight of my just severity Del giusto mio rigor. To crush you.

Tremolos, particularly in the second violin part, and a broken chord figuration in the bass line are predominant this aria. The use of rauschende noten in the second violin part is employed to ‘animate’ the overall affect of anger (see ex. 5.52).

Ex. 5.52. Mitridate, rè di Ponto K.87. Act 2, Scene 14. Aria of Mitridate. Bars 6-12.

The second quatrain of the aria modulates regularly. Beginning in the supertonic of the main tonality (C major), Mozart moves to the relative minor before making his way back to the home key, via the subdominant and ending this section of the aria in the dominant (see ex. 5.53).

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Ex. 5.53. Mitridate, rè di Ponto K.87. Act 2, Scene 14. Aria of Mitridate. Bars 34-51.

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Regular orchestral interjections frequently interrupt the vocal line in the aria’s first quatrain, usually at the end of each poetic line (see ex. 5.54). These interjections project martial overtones, which were felt to express pride. Lacépède again comments:

Let his [the composer] work have a certain determined character, and let him create that character by the nature of the rhythm that he uses, by the nature of the upper voice, by the type of accompaniments, by a felicitous use of notes that are firmly executed and placed at regular intervals, by very short and attention-getting quicker notes that are scattered about, by showy melodic passages that are strongly articulated, and by transitions that are not very connected. Lastly, he should eliminate all over delicate ornaments, and all nuances that are too weak, too gentle, too tender. ... The musician can paint the same pride by giving his music a military tone, ... .

Que son ouvrage ait un certain caractère décidé; et qu’il le lui donne par la nature du mouvement dont il se sevira, par celle du chant, par le genre des accompagemens, par un heureux emploi de notes exécutées avec une certain fermeté, qu’il placera de distance en distance, par des passages fort courts et saillans qu’il y semera, par des traits fortement prononcés, des transitions assez peu liées, et enfin par la suppression de tous les ornemens trop délicats, de toutes les nuances trop foibles, trop douces, trop tendres. ... Le musicien pourra peindre cette même fierté, en donnant à sa musique un ton militaire, ... (Lacépède, 1785: Vol. 1, 196).

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Ex. 5.54. Mitridate, rè di Ponto K.87. Act 2, Scene 14. Aria of Mitridate. Bars 52-64.

Supplication

Supplication presents another common melodic line, and resulting tone of voice, which are often seen in the genre of dramma per musica. French historian and rhetorician, Charles Rollin (1661-1741) writes of this tone of voice: ‘When it is a matter of confessing an error, satisfying someone or begging, [the voice] becomes gentle, timid, submissive./Quand il s’agit de confesser une faute, de faire satisfaction, de supplier, devient douce, timide, soumise’ (Rollin quoted in Diderot, 1751: Vol. 3, 121).

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A seminal example of this tone of voice can be seen in Idomeneo’s aria ‘Accogli, oh re del mar’ from Act III of Idomeneo, which is essentially a prayer to the god of the sea Neptune that looks forward to the preghiera of nineteenth-century operatic genres.

IDOMENEO IDOMENEUS

Accogli, oh re del mar, O king of the sea, I nostri voti, Receive our prayers; Placa lo sdegno tuo, Placate your anger, Il tuo rigor! Your severity.

SACREDOTI PRIESTS

Accogli, oh re del mar, O king of the sea, I nostri voti, Receive our prayers; Placa lo sdegno tuo, Placate your anger, Il tuo rigor! Your severity.

IDOMENEO IDOMENEUS

Tornino a lor splendoche gl’Euri, Let the east and south winds return to their caves; I noti, torni Zeffiro al mar, Let the gentle breeze return to the sea Cessi il furor. And the fury cease. Il pentimento, Accept the heartfelt repentance E il cor de’tuoi devote accetta, Of your devotees E a noi concedi il tuo favor! And grant us your favour!

SACREDOTI PRIESTS

Accogli, oh re del mar, O king of the sea, I nostri voti, Receive our prayers; Placa lo sdegno tuo, Placate your anger, Il tuo rigor! Your severity.

The pitch range of a supplication often remains within a fifth, as it generally does in the vocal line of this case from Idomeneo (see ex. 5.55).

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Ex. 5.55. Idomeneo, rè di Creta K.366. Act 3, Scene 7. Cavatina of Idomeneo and chorus. Bars 30-37.

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The repeated pitches sung by the priests are also features of the melodic line of duration or prolongation, which characterise sentiments of hope or incantations (Ranum, 2001: 419) (see ex. 5.56).

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Ex. 5.56. Idomeneo, rè di Creta K.366. Act 3, Scene 7. Cavatina of Idomeneo and chorus. Bars 15-20.

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Imitations of the state of calm, representing allusions to the gentle breeze and the calm sea are evident in Mozart’s writing for winds in this aria, as well as that of the second violins (see ex. 5.57).

Ex. 5.57. Idomeneo, rè di Creta K.366. Act 3, Scene 7. Cavatina of Idomeneo and chorus. Bars 21-29. 283

Tones of voice were described at length in books on rhetoric and other treatises that investigate the passions of the soul. From these descriptions, the melodic contours of the passions could be gleaned and they often reflect Mozart’s musical settings to a striking degree. Mozart’s use of this rhetorical principle in his compositional process to express a wide range of emotions has remained relatively unexplored. His consistent musical setting of these tones of voice is reflected in the musical examples above. It could be argued that the descriptions in Lacépède’s La Poétique de la musique of 1785 shows it to be one of the last treatises that proposes a universal music poetics, and it could be viewed as the ‘swan song’ of eighteenth-century musical aesthetics. Lacépède’s argument is based on what was by the 1780s an orthodox assumption: that music, as a form of communication or expression of emotion, was that of a language (Thomas, 2002: 294, 304).

The various forms of vocal composition seen in the drammi per musica of Mozart not only took the form of an oration, but they also remained faithful to the principles of ‘imitating nature’. The melodic lines and tones of voice used in these operatic works provide evidence of this, to the extent that they imitated speech. The expression of the passions was fundamental to the art of rhetoric reflected through the genre of dramma per musica. Sulzer, quoted here in Diderot’s Encyclopédie, provides an over-arching definition of expression, with which we may assume Mozart was well acquainted through the training of his father and the wide reading of his family on these subjects of rhetoric and musical expression (see Introduction and Chapter I):

This term, as applied to the arts, refers to the emotions of the soul and to its passions stirred or represented by external signs. The name [expression] is sometimes given to the sign, as a cause of the emotion in the soul, and sometimes to the effect that this sign produces. The words, the terms of a language stir certain ideas: these ideas are expressions of the state of the soul, and the words themselves are also expressions in so much as they are the means that stirs expression.

Ce terme, dans le langage des arts, se rapporte aux mouvemens de l’ame et à ses passions excitées ou représentées par de signes extérieurs. On donne ce nom tantôt au signe, comme à la cause du mouvement de l’ame, tantôt à l’effet que ce signe produit. Les mots, les termes d’une langue excitent certaines idées; ces idées sont des expressions de l’état de l’ame, et les mots eux-mêmes sont encore des expressions en

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tant qu’ils sont le moyen qui les excite (Sulzer quoted in Diderot, 1776 edn: Vol. 5, 478).

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Conclusion

This study of Mozart’s musical application of rhetorical concepts in the genre of dramma per musica, poses further questions for investigation. For example, can the influence of these rhetorical principles be identified in the operatic genres of the nineteenth century? If they can, are these principles confined to Forkel’s ‘individualisation of common sentiments/individualisirung allgemeiner Empfindung’, or are there specific rhetorical devices and processes to be found in operatic composition of the nineteenth century? Treatises certainly continued to encourage performers to be in sympathy with the emotional message of the work, while expressing their own individuality, taste and style (Tarling, 2005: iv); the expression of the passions continued to be the motivation of the dramatis personae in musical drama. Even within the conservatorium education system which developed following the French Revolution, rhetoric was included as part of the curriculum. For example, librettist engaged for the Teatro La Scala, Luigi Romanelli (1751- 1839) was professor of rhetoric and literature at the Milan conservatory from 1816 to 1831 (Cella, 1980: Vol. 16, 126).

One aspect of musical composition which maintained its strong link to the rhetorical expression of the passions was the continued association between keys and specific affective characteristics. The increased interest in music theory and analysis in the early nineteenth century resulted in the descriptive lists of keys from the previous century having a marked influence on the new, with the full range of chromatic keys now added to the lists of keys associations of previous centuries. Schubart’s descriptions of key characteristics tend to be central to nineteenth-century thinking on this topic. Although they were not in full agreement with all of his observations, Beethoven and Schumann held Schubart’s Ideen in high regard (Steblin, 1983: 221). Editions of this treatise appeared throughout the century. The edition of Ideen referenced in this dissertation dates from 1839, indicating its enduring popularity and circulation.

Other writers on music of the nineteenth century approached the subject of key characteristics from a personal, subjective perspective. German composer E. T. A. Hoffmann 286

(1776-1822) and philosopher, Johann Jacob Wagner took the approach of composing short poems or excerpts of prose to illustrate the affective qualities of each key. These writers tended not to discuss the physical properties of key characteristics, but regarded them as inherent properties which were determined by nature - principles discussed by eighteenth- century theorists as the role of rhetoric; not only in music, but in all the arts (Steblin, 1983: 212).

The emergence of musicology as an independent discipline in the nineteenth century saw the appearance of a wide variety of bibliographic references to earlier publications on this topic. Die Musik und Poesie (1835) by Peter Jospeh Schneider (c1795-1837) quotes selections from Schubart’s Ideen, as well as publications by Forkel and Sulzer. Along with these citations, writers began illustrating their points with musical examples of the period – the works of Handel, Haydn and Mozart were favourites. For example, Papageno’s arias from Die Zauberflöte were used by Johann Wagner to illustrate the affective attributes of F and G major (Steblin, 1983: 233).

While attitudes to rhetoric changed following the Napoleonic wars, the attitude towards the human response to music did not. Rhetorical techniques and devices were therefore inherited from previous generations of composers and performers, and used to express emotion in new musical styles. French violinist and composer, Pierre Baillot (1771-1842) uses the term ‘musical character’ in his treatise L’art du violon (1834) to denote musical expression in a rhetorical context (Tarling, 2005: 43). He writes:

The character is the general colour given to the expression of the [musical] composition and which the author has chosen to determine its intention so as to seize the soul of the listener by making him experience the sentiment he wished to paint.

Le caractère est le tenite générale donnée à l’expression de la composition et dont l’auteur a fait choix pour déterminer son intention de manière à saisir l’ame de l’auditeur en lui faisant éprouver le sentiment qu’il a voulu peindre (Baillot, n.d: 188).

In a review of a performance by Paganini reported in The Manchester Guardian on January 14, 1832, the journalist is of the opinion that the model for perfect expression lies with the human voice. He describes:

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... an adagio, full of soul and expression ... gave full scope to his [Paganini’s] powers. In playing this piece his tones were the most extraordinary that we ever heard from any musical instrument. They seemed to be susceptible of all the varied intonation of the human voice; to be capable of expressing all the varieties of human passions; in short, they wanted nothing but articulation to form a complete language (Anon., quoted in Tarling, 2005: 43).

Thus, the musical expression of human emotions continued into the nineteenth century to be based on the concepts of rhetoric that were developed in the ancient world. Despite the rapidly changing musical style of the late eighteenth century, compositional techniques remain faithful to rhetorical traditions. Metastasio writes of these principles aptly in a letter to his friend and mentor, Marianna Bulgarelli-Benti ‘La Romanina’ (c1684-1734) on 4 July 1733: ‘Hence it is, that man seems not to act by reason, but mechanical impulse; adapting reason to his feelings, and not his feelings to reason. ... If this were not the case, all those who think well, would act well; but we see the contrary. Whoever examined nature and virtue better than Aristotle?/Quindi è assai chiaro, che gli uomini non operano per ragione, ma per impulse meccanico, adattando poi con l’ingegno le ragioni all’opera, non operando a tenore delle ragioni. ... Se non fosse così, tutti coloro, che pensan bene opererebbero bene, e noi vediamo il contrario. Chi ha mai meglio di Aristotile esaminato la natura della virtù?’ (Metastasio, 1786 edn: Vol. 1, 61).

This study of rhetorical techniques in Mozart’s drammi per musica has aimed to investigate the extent to which the most admired opera composer of the late eighteenth century adhered to the precepts of the rhetorical discipline in music as applied by composers of previous generations. Previous scholars have observed a consistency in the writings of French composers, philosophers, academicians and aestheticians to how rhetoric was employed to mirror human emotions in the music of the French national style from the mid seventeenth century until the French Revolution (see Introduction); this dissertation has uncovered a similar continuity of approach by Mozart within the Italian operatic genre of dramma per musica.

The issue here is not how present-day composers view the art of rhetoric and its application to musical composition, but rather how this topic was viewed during its heyday, usually

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considered to be during the baroque era. What is significant is that so many composers of the late eighteenth century (including Mozart), musicians and aestheticians believed in its importance in expressing and projecting emotion. Despite the absence of documentary evidence that Mozart received any specific education in rhetoric, the correspondence with his father, during the rehearsals of Idomeneo, attests to the above assertion that the aim of expressing emotion lay at the heart of musical composition during the eighteenth century (see Chapter I). This should contribute to our understanding of Mozart’s relatively unexplored drammi per musica, which, with the exception of Idomeneo, have been far less extensively analysed by scholars - and seen on stage by modern audiences - than the comedies which resulted from his collaboration with Lorenzo Da Ponte and Die Zauberflöte. The final words of this thesis can be left to English poet John Dryden (1631-1700), who sums up this topic in his immortal words from A Song for St. Cecilia’s Day (1687): ‘What passion cannot Musick raise and quell?’ (ed. Quiller-Couch, 1919: 399).

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Scores

Mozart, W. A. (2006). Idomeneo K.366. Los Altos, California: The Packard Humanities Institute.

Mozart, W. A. (2008). La clemenza di Tito K.621. Los Altos, California: The Packard Humanities Institute.

Mozart, W. A. (1991). Neue Ausgabe Sämtlicher Werke 4 - Bühnenwerke I. Kassel: Bärenreiter-Verlag.

Mozart, W. A. (1991). Neue Ausgabe Sämtlicher Werke 5 - Bühnenwerke II. Kassel: Bärenreiter-Verlag.

Mozart, W. A. (1991). Neue Ausgabe Sämtlicher Werke 6 - Bühnenwerke III. Kassel: Bärenreiter-Verlag.

Mozart, W. A. (1991). Neue Ausgabe Sämtlicher Werke 9 - Bühnenwerke VI. Kassel: Bärenreiter-Verlag.

Scarlatti, A. (2009). Venere, Adone et Amore. (R. Halton, ed.). Middleton, Wisconsin: A-R Editions.

Recordings

Mozart, W. A. (1990). Apollo et Hyacinthus K.38 [2 compact discs]. Rundfunk- Sinfonieorchester and Rundfunkchor, Leipzig. Recorded Leipzig 1990: Brilliant Classics 92633/1-2.

Mozart, W. A. (1995). Ascanio in Alba K.111 [2 compact discs]. Concerto Armonico and Choeur de l'Université de Paris-Sorbonne. Recorded September 1990: Naxos 8660040-1.

Mozart, W. A. (2002). Ascanio in Alba K.111 [3 compact discs]. Musica ad Rhenum. Maria Minor, Utrecht. Recorded May 2002: Brilliant Classics 92633/10-12.

Mozart, W. A. (1991). Idomeneo K.366 [3 compact discs]. The English Baroque Soloists and The Monteverdi Choir, Queen Elizabeth Hall, London. Recorded June 1990: Archiv Produktion 431 674-2.

299

Mozart, W. A. (2001). Idomeneo K.366 [3 compact discs]. Staatskapelle Dresden and Chor des Leipziger Rundfunks, Köln. Recorded 1972.: Brilliant Classics 92633/26-28.

Mozart, W. A. (1996). Il rè pastore K.208 [2 compact discs]. Concentus Musicus Wien, Musikverein Wien. Recorded May 1995: Teldec 4509-98419-2.

Mozart, W. A. (2001). Il rè pastore K.208 [2 compact discs]. Musica ad Rhenum, Maria Minor, Utrecht. Recorded September 2001: Brilliant Classics 92633/21-22.

Mozart, W. A. (2001). Il sogno di Scipione K.126 [2 compact discs]. Musica ad Rhenum and Capella Amsterdam, Maria Minor, Utrecht. Recorded August 2001: Brilliant Classics 92633/13-14.

Mozart, W. A. (1995). La clemenza di Tito K.621 [2 compact discs]. The Academy of Ancient Music Orchestra and Chorus, EMI Studios, London. Recorded 1991-1992: Editions de l'Oiseau Lyre 444 131-2.

Mozart, W. A. (2006). La clemenza di Tito K.621 [2 compact discs]. Freiburger Barockorchester and RIAS Kammerchor, Teldex Studio Berlin. Recorded November 2005: Harmonia Mundi France HMC901923.24.

Mozart, W. A. (2002). La clemenza di Tito K.621 [2 compact discs]. Musica ad Rhenum and Vocal Ensemble Cocu, Maria Minor Church, Utrecht. Recorded August 2002: Brilliant Classics 92633/43-44.

Mozart, W. A. (1989). Lucio Silla K.135 [2 compact discs]. Concentus Musicus Wien and Arnold Schönberg Chor, Konzerthaus, Wien. Recorded June 1989: Teldec 2292-44928-2.

Mozart, W. A. (1985). Lucio Silla K.135 [3 compact discs]. Orchestre et Choeurs du Théâtre Royal de la Monnaie, Brussels, Belgium. Live recording 19/20 January 1985: Brilliant Classics 92633/15-17.

Mozart, W. A. (1999). Mitridate, rè di Ponto K.87 [3 compact discs]. . Recorded May 1998: Decca 460772-2.

Mozart, W. A. (2001). Mitridate, rè di Ponto K.87 [3 compact discs]. Musica ad Rhenum. Maria Minor, Utrecht. Recorded August 2001: Brilliant Classics 92633/7-9.

Mozart, W. A. (2004). oder Das Serail K.344 [1 compact disc]. The Academy of Ancient Music, Théâtre de Poissy. Recorded June 1997: Harmonia Mundi 2907205.

Mozart, W. A. (2001). Zaide K.344 [2 compact discs]. Radio Kamerorkest, Muziekcentrum Vredenburg Utrecht. Recorded February 2001.: Brilliant Classics 92633/23-24.

300

Mozart, W. A. et al. (2001). Le belle immagini [1 compact disc]. Prague Philharmonia, Magdalena Kožená, Dvořák Hall. Recorded September 2001: Deutsche Grammaphon 471 334-2.

301