Deceptively Simple

“At last, to make a long story short, I did play on that miserable, Wretched Pianoforte. And what really galled me was that Madame and her gentlemen never interrupted their drawing for one moment, they just continued, and I had to play for the chairs, tables, and walls. Given these miserable conditions, I finally lost my patience—I had begun to play the Fischer Variations and I had played about half of them when I stood up. They immediately showered me with compliments; but I said what had to be said, namely that I could not do myself justice on this Clavier, and I would be happy if Madame would choose another day when a better Clavier would be available. But she wouldn’t hear of my leaving and I was obliged to wait another half hour until her husband came. He, however, sat down next to me and listened to me very attentively, and I—I forgot the cold and the headache, and played in spite of the Wretched clavier—the way I play when I am in the best of spirits. Give me the best Clavier in Europe, but an audience that either doesn’t understand, or doesn’t want to understand, people who do not connect with me and my playing, and I will lose all joy in performing.”—Mozart, in a letter to his father dated May 1, 1778, translated and edited by Robert Spaethling.