"I've only ever had three piano teachers in my life: Enid Roberts, a frail, old Australian woman who ran a small music school out of her own home in Pune, India. Veera Pooniwala, a Parsi who herself studied with Roberts. And Glenn Gould." - Karishmeh Felfeli

Remembering NANNERL MOZART




Today, one hundred and eighty years ago, Marianne Mozart, known to most as “Nannerl” died at the age of seventy eight in Salzburg. Her brother, Wolfgang Amade Mozart had already been regarded as one of the world’s greatest composers, and Nannerl had outlived him by nearly forty years, despite the fact that she was five years older. And while Mozart’s untimely death and his extraordinary musical output has resulted in his name becoming synonymous with greatness in classical music, his own childhood idol, his sister Nannerl, is known to few outside the world of classical music. Mozart adored his older sister when he was but a toddler. He aspired to be just like her, to play just as she did, he was her biggest fan. Together with Nannerl, Mozart was one half of the “wunderkinder duo” that performed in royal houses and courts across Europe, dazzling nobility with their unbelievably prodigious accomplishments. And while Leopold Mozart, their father continued to push his son to conquer Europe’s musical world, by the time Nannerl turned eighteen, she was no longer allowed to pursue a career as a pianist, and practically forbidden to even think about composing. Young Wolfgang’s letters to Leopold and Nannerl reveal that he thought extremely highly of his gifted, talented sister, he remarked on her excellent compositions and yet none survive. Yet it was Nannerl who played a vital role in preserving her gifted brother’s memory for centuries to follow, and it was Nannerl who gave all the Mozart family letters to Constanze (Mozart’s widow) and her second husband, the Danish diplomat George Nicolas Von Nissen who was attempting the first major biography of Mozart.

I have my own reasons for remembering Nannerl Mozart, and these will become even more clear at a later stage. For now, it is sufficient to say that she is and will remain one of history’s most underappreciated women, and the fact that she died alone, blind and nearly speechless on this day nearly two centuries ago is enough to make me want to be appreciative of all I have, and every opportunity that has come my way.