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In 1864, Salzburg’s Mozarteum Foundation secured a collection of musical autographs known as “Nannerl’s Notebook”—long assumed to have been a collection of pieces assembled by Leopold Mozart for his daughter Maria Anna, known in her youth by the nickname “Nannerl.” Among the eighteen works contained in this collection was a 75-bar, five-minute concerto movement for keyboard transcribed in Leopold’s handwriting which had long been assumed to have been his work. Only the solo part exists–the orchestral passages have not been retained. Now, however, musicologists studying the manuscript state that they can establish “with a likelihood bordering on certainty” that the work was composed by Nannerl’s brother, Wolfgang Amadeus, reports Vienna’s Der Standard: (S.H. transl.)
”neither the style of composition nor the speedy, corrected handwriting correspond to Leopold’s authorship,” argues Ulrich Leisinger, a Mozart researcher in the Mozarteum Foundation. “It’s far more likely that Wolfgang Amadeus played this composition for his father on the piano, and that it was then transcribed for the still unpracticed Wolfgang in the notebook, and subsequently corrected.” Father Leopold did not compose piano works of such breakneck virtuosity and extraordinary difficulty (for the period 1763-64)—in it the soloist is required to cross his hands and let them fly wildly over the keyboard, Leisinger stated.
Florian Birsak gave the work its public premiere this weekend, performing in Salzburg on a period fortepiano. Swiss television reported on the developments last night:
More from Scott Horton:
Six Questions — October 18, 2014, 8:00 pm
Nathaniel Raymond on CIA interrogation techniques.
On a Friday evening in January, a thousand people at the annual California Native Plant Society conference in San Jose settled down to a banquet and a keynote speech delivered by an environmental historian named Jared Farmer. His chosen topic was the eucalyptus tree and its role in California’s ecology and history. The address did not go well. Eucalyptus is not a native plant but a Victorian import from Australia. In the eyes of those gathered at the San Jose DoubleTree, it qualified as “invasive,” “exotic,” “alien” — all dirty words to this crowd, who were therefore convinced that the tree was dangerously combustible, unfriendly to birds, and excessively greedy in competing for water with honest native species.
In his speech, Farmer dutifully highlighted these ugly attributes, but also quoted a few more positive remarks made by others over the years. This was a reckless move. A reference to the tree as “indigenously Californian” elicited an abusive roar, as did an observation that without the aromatic import, the state would be like a “home without its mother.” Thereafter, the mild-mannered speaker was continually interrupted by boos, groans, and exasperated gasps. Only when he mentioned the longhorn beetle, a species imported (illegally) from Australia during the 1990s with the specific aim of killing the eucalyptus, did he earn a resounding cheer.
Percentage of Britons who cannot name the city that provides the setting for the musical Chicago:
An Australian entrepreneur was selling oysters raised in tanks laced with Viagra.
A tourism company in Australia announced a service that will allow users to take the “world’s biggest selfies,” and a Texas man accidentally killed himself while trying to pose for a selfie with a handgun.
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“Shelby is waiting for something. He himself does not know what it is. When it comes he will either go back into the world from which he came, or sink out of sight in the morass of alcoholism or despair that has engulfed other vagrants.”