|
Getting your Trinity Audio player ready...
|
Above: Vienna
Antonio Salieri’s name has often been overshadowed by myths—particularly those surrounding his supposed rivalry with Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart († 1791). However, when Salieri passed away on May 7, 1825, he left behind a legacy far richer than these rumors suggest. Revered as a composer, conductor, and teacher, his influence on European music was both profound and enduring.
In contemporary discussions, Salieri’s music is less prominent compared to the works of his illustrious students—such as Ludwig van Beethoven († 1827), Franz Schubert († 1828), Johann Nepomuk Hummel († 1837), Carl Czerny († 1857), and Franz Liszt († 1886). Yet, the profound respect and admiration these great musicians held for their teacher serve as a testament to his true worth and significance. Salieri was not only a composer; he was a dynamic conductor and a dedicated teacher, profoundly influencing the Viennese musical landscape.
Born in Legnago, near Verona, on August 18, 1750, the Venetian composer spent the majority of his life in Vienna, where he served the Habsburg court for nearly fifty years—an exceptional achievement for any artist of his time. After arriving in Vienna in 1766, he quickly became a key figure in the city’s thriving musical scene. Following a series of successful opera productions between 1770 and 1774, he was appointed court composer in 1774 and became Kapellmeister in 1788, a position he held until his retirement in 1824. His career was marked by remarkable versatility and productivity: he composed over forty operas, including L’Europa riconosciuta, which had the honor of inaugurating the newly constructed Teatro alla Scala in Milan in 1778 after the previous Teatro Ducale had been destroyed by fire in 1776. Additionally, Salieri’s prolific output included cantatas, chamber vocal works, symphonies, and chamber music.
In addition to his achievements in opera, the Venetian composer was equally prolific in sacred music. His vast body of religious works includes seven Masses, three Requiems (one nearly lost), sixteen Graduals, thirty-five Offertories, ten Psalms, and much more, reflecting his versatility and deep understanding of liturgical forms. Notably, one of his Requiems was performed at his own funeral, conducted by none other than Schubert.
Among his many accomplishments, La Passione di Gesù Cristo stands out as Salieri’s first true masterpiece. Composed in 1776 for the Tonkünstler-Societät (Musician’s Society) of Vienna—an institution dedicated to both concert performances and the social welfare of musicians—this oratorio premiered on December 18, 1777.
Described as “unparalleled for its psychological depth,” the libretto for La Passione was originally penned by Pietro Metastasio in 1730 for composer Antonio Caldara († 1736) and has since been set to music by over ten composers. “Of all the versions I know, the most beautiful is by Paisiello; the most dramatic, with a sort of iron resolve, is by Salieri.”[1] Metastasio, a court poet and master librettist renowned for his profound musical understanding and aesthetic sensibility, expressed admiration for Salieri’s version, calling it “the most expressive music of all those composed for this poem,” a remarkable accolade for a composer who was only twenty-six years old at the time.[2]
This “azione sacra” in two parts follows the 18th-century Italian oratorio tradition, characterized by a narrative structure that seamlessly alternates between meditative and dramatic moments. Rather than directly narrating the events of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, the oratorio evokes these pivotal moments through the reflections of four main characters: Mary Magdalene (soprano), John (contralto), Peter (tenor), and Joseph of Arimathea (bass). Following an overture that represents, according to a note in the autograph, Li rimorsi e la disperazione di Pietro (the remorse and despair of Peter), the emotions of the soloists unfold through a series of recitatives (both secco and accompanied) and arias that showcase their expressive capabilities. Standout moments include: Peter’s aria Giacché mi tremi in seno, characterized by plaintive singing following a lengthy obbligato recitative; Mary Magdalene’s aria Vorrei dirti il mio dolore, a fragment of which Mozart borrowed for Donna Elvira’s cavatina in Don Giovanni; Mary Magdalene’s cabaletta Potea quel pianto, with choral interjections; Joseph of Arimathea’s fiery aria All’idea de’ tuoi perigli; John’s expansive and solemn aria Dovunque il guardo io giro; and finally, Mary Magdalene’s aria Ai passi erranti, which demands exceptional technical skill from the performer.
The orchestration of La Passione is rich and varied, employing two flutes, two oboes, two bassoons, two horns, two trumpets (clarini), timpani, strings, and basso continuo. Although the choir appears only at select moments, it concludes each of the two parts with a majestic fugue. The grandeur of the work is further evidenced by its enthusiastic reception; during Advent in 1777, performances of La Passione drew more than 2,000 spectators over two snowy nights, a testament to the work’s emotional power and Salieri’s masterful composition.
The story of Antonio Salieri is a powerful reminder that greatness is not always synonymous with extraordinary genius. As Pope Benedict XVI observed, “the great music born in the Church” is not solely the result of remarkable talent, but rather it “makes the truth of our faith audible and perceivable: […] all music, even that of minor composers.”[3] Though the Legnago composer may not have achieved the immortal fame of Mozart, his life and work demonstrate that true greatness resides not in immediate acclaim but in a lifelong dedication to authenticity, the refinement of one’s craft, and the humble acceptance of personal limits. Like many often-overlooked “minor composers,” Salieri’s pursuit of beauty helped lay the foundation from which musical genius could flourish.
Photo by Jacek Dylag on Unsplash
[1] P. Isotta, Corriere della Sera, December 6, 2004.
[2] Quoted in R. Angermüller, Antonio Salieri, Munich 1971, p. 47.
[3] Benedict XVI, Meeting with the clergy of the Diocese of Bolzano-Bressanone, August 6, 2006.
