A Major Discovery: The REAL story behind Per la ricuperata salute di Ofelia - KV 477a

The years 1784 and 1785 were significant for Nancy Storace in that they could be described as the most turbulent and life-changing years in her entire life. Having arrived in Vienna only the year before as Emperor Joseph II's "prima buffa" in his new Italian Opera Company, the then 17-year-old Ann Selina Storace experienced instant and wild popularity with the Viennese audience. She quickly garnered the admiration of the likes of the Emperor and the nobility, as well as her musical colleagues including, Antonio Salieri, Wolfgang Mozart, Martin y Soler, Francesco Benucci (Mozart's original Figaro), and the court librettist, Lorenzo da Ponte and became Europe's most popular and highest-paid stage performer. Her skills as a musician and actor, as well as her high energy on stage charmed and delighted her audiences, and propelled her into a stage career that was unparalleled by any before her.

Soon after Nancy's arrival in Vienna, her mother, Elizabeth Storace arranged a marriage for Nancy to an English violinist by the name of John Abraham Fisher. Fisher came to Vienna on sabbatical from Oxford and connected with the Storaces, as they were from London and he had been acquaintances of Nancy's parents there. Elizabeth, who hated Vienna and wanted to return to London, saw this marriage as insurance of their return once Fisher's sabbatical was complete. Fisher and Nancy were married in March of 1784 and almost immediately afterward it became evident that the marriage was a disaster as Fisher began beating and brutalizing Nancy very likely from the first day. In the first few

weeks after they married, Nancy was absent from the Burgtheater stage due to "illness" and started experiencing periods when she was off the stage more than she was on. This finally escalated to the point that Emperor Joseph intervened and sometime in August or September of 1784, he kicked Fisher out of Vienna and forbid him to return. There was a period of several weeks in this time when we have no accounting of Nancy's whereabouts. She was housed in the Imperial apartments but records indicate that only her mother remained in the apartments during those weeks and it is believed that Nancy was either hiding out from or being hidden from Fisher until the time he was out of the city and it was safe for Nancy to return to her residence.

Shortly after Nancy's return to the Burgtheater stage (most likely in early November of 1784), she announced that she was pregnant but the Emperor either didn't or wouldn't release her from her contract. Performance records show that she was on stage throughout its duration, despite indications of it being an extremely difficult pregnancy and Nancy experiencing periods of absence due to illness.

In January of 1785, Nancy's older brother, Stephen arrived in Vienna from London to fulfill a commission for an opera that apparently Nancy had arranged. How she was able to obtain such a commission for Stephen, who was an entirely unknown composer, remains a mystery. Some attribute it to the notion that she was Emperor Joseph's mistress. Others believe that she appealed to one of the nobles with a high position in the Emperor's court and offered him "favors" to obtain the commission. No one really knows how the commission came about, however what we do know is that Nancy was extremely close to her brother, and she needed his presence and support during what were the most traumatic times of her life. Shortly after his arrival her child was born. There is some dispute over the birth date of the child. Earlier research indicated that the child was born sometime in late May or early June of 1785, which would mean that Nancy was near full term at the time of the premiere of her brother's opera, in which she starred. Later scholarship by the Mozart scholar, Michael Lorenz indicates that the child, a baby girl, who was named Josefa Fisher, was born in late January of 1785. What we do know for certain is that the child was given to the Viennese foundling home and died only a month after her birth. Foundling home records from this period indicate that only children who were orphaned or proven to be bastards were accepted into the home. This is a strong indicator that Fisher wasn't the father of Nancy's child.


Despite the controversy over the actual birth date of Nancy's child, it is documented fact that during the premiere of her brother Stephen's opera in May of 1785, Nancy suffered a complete loss of her voice onstage. She had to be carried off stage and the performance shut down. Nancy's voice loss was so complete that she was off stage for a solid 4 months and there was some very substantiated concern that she would never recover. Historians have been baffled as to the reason for such a complete vocal demise citing possible emotional/psychological distress, a throat infection, and even hormonal changes being contributing factors. However, she did recover after a long period of rest, but she never regained her voice at full capacity. From that point on, her stage reviewers reported a

"hoarse", "throaty", even "harsh" edge to the voice as well as a loss of flexibility and suppleness. When composing the role of Susanna for her in Le Nozze di Figaro, Mozart had to lower the tessitura of her parts in the ensemble pieces and greatly reduce the complexity of her arias, much to her personal frustration. Because of this, however, he promised her that he would compose a large-scale "bravura" aria for her for another time. The fulfillment of this promise came in the aria he composed as a gift for her to sing in her final Viennese concert on the night before she left the city to return to London, "Ch'io mi scordi di te...Non temer amato bene" K. 505. It has been noted by musicologists that while it was a large scale bravura aria, the tessitura is much lower than most arias for soprano voice, and the melismatic passages are fewer, shorter, and less complicated and easier to negotiate by the singer. This aria today is most often sung by what we now classify as Mezzo Sopranos.

All of the above is merely the backdrop for the events that led to the composition of the cantata, "Per la ricuperata salute di Ofelia, KV 477a, which was a joint composition by Mozart, Salieri, and a mysterious composer by the name of Cornetti (thought by historians to be an alias).

When I began my research for my master's thesis (vocal performance and pedagogy) on the life and career of Nancy Storace in the spring of 1999, I was intrigued by this amazing woman who seemed to make a miraculous recovery after her two year ordeal as a victim of domestic violence. And like the historians whose biographies and articles I read, I got lost in her relationship with Mozart and the intrigue of a possible affair with him and with others, as well as dazzled by her amazing success throughout the rest of her career until her death in her estate home in Dulwich in 1817 - so much so, that I, like the others, started viewing her experience with domestic violence as just a small blip on her radar. Years later, even as I continued to research her life for my historical novel series "So Faithful a Heart", and as a vocal pedagogue, I

didn't see the connection between the loss and permanent damage to her voice to her being a victim of domestic violence. I attributed the complete loss of her voice to an emotional/psychological breakdown and still didn't make the real connection until years later, when in 2014 I was employed as receptionist/crisis intervention staff at a local center/shelter for victims of domestic violence and sexual assault. It was while training for that position that I learned about the damaging, life-threatening, and permanent affects of strangulation on not only the voice, but upon the victim's health and life for the entirety of their lives. When I learned of the permanent scar tissue that can remain on the larynx and soft tissues of the vocal folds, I put it together. It isn't widely known that several years later in November of 1791 (the same time that Mozart fell sick with his final illness), Nancy started to experience bouts of dizziness and fainting and was eventually diagnosed with a brain hemorrhage and underwent a procedure called "trepanning" by which a quarter-sized hole is opened up in the victim's skull and the blood drained to relieve the pressure. She nearly died. This is entirely consistent with symptoms experienced by victims of strangulation, even years later, because of the pressure put on the carotid artery and the cutting off of the blood flow to the brain resulting in brain injury and blood clotting in the brain.

After a year of serving in the capacity of support staff at the center for victims of domestic violence/sexual assault I was sent to train as a Certified Domestic & Sexual Assault Response Professional and was promoted to the position of full time Sexual Assault Advocate/Educator. My training as a professional victim advocate further corroborated my theories, and I am now convinced beyond any doubt that Nancy Storace was a victim of strangulation during her abuse with her husband, John Fisher and that her voice loss and the permanent "hoarseness" and "edge" sustained to her voice, as well as her near death from a brain hemorrhage were all the result of strangulation.

Now, back to the cantata: I have been elated and at the same time disappointed and even appalled by the recent discovery and revelation of Per la ricuperata salute di Ofelia in January of 2016. Historians and headlines are making this discovery entirely about Mozart and Salieri, and the myth perpetuated by the play and film ,"Amadeus", that Salieri was so jealous of Mozart's talent that he murdered him. Documented research long ago dispelled that myth, so for notable and serious music historians to present this discovery as some kind of "proof" that this dispels that myth is not only ridiculous, but is nothing but cheap sensationalism. This discovery isn't about the composers or their relationships with each other, but about the woman for whom this cantata was composed, and the joyous occasion it celebrated. It is about the triumph of a woman over her brutal and devastating abuse - her strength, her determination, and her unrelenting spirit. This cantata is about Ann "Nancy" Selina Storace a woman who was loved and celebrated by the likes of the Emperor of the greatest empire in the world at that time, and of men like Mozart, Salieri, and Lorenzo da Ponte. This discovery is about the triumph of the human spirit and our ability to rise above and conquer the affects of even the most devastating events of our lives.

Mozart's Motet for Castrato: Exultate Jubilate

Mozart's motet, Exultate Jubilate was composed for the castrato Vinanzio Rauzzini (later the voice teacher of young Nancy Storace), in 1773 when Mozart was visiting in Milan. Rauzinni was born in Camerino, Italy in 1746. Mozart first heard him sing in the Viennese court in 1767 and was so delighted with his voice that he offered him the premiere role in his opera Lucio Silla, when it was staged in Milan in 1772.

The Exultate Jubilate is a three movement motet consisting of an allegro movement followed by a slower andante movement, then another allegro movement known as the "Alleluja".

The two allegro movements are sung here by male soprano Michael Maniaci. Maniaci is a true male soprano and not a counter tenor or a castrato. This is the closest the 21st century ear will ever hear to how this piece sounded when Rauzzini sang it.

The Villain You Love to Hate and Hate to Love: Count Almaviva

Ah! Count Almaviva. How could a man be so cold and uncaring? How could he be so unfaithful to his lovely wife? And with her personal servant girl who's engaged to be married to his valet? Only Mozart and da Ponte could create a character so strong, so compelling...someone you hate to love and love to hate.

Simon Keenlyside sings the Count's aria, Hai gia vinta la causa.

Beloved Cherubino

By far the most beloved character in Le Nozze di Figaro has to be the 14-year-old boy who is in love with love, Cherubino. Mozart and da Ponte created the role to be sung by a woman wearing men's clothing (a trouser role), and since that time it has been one of the most coveted roles for mezzo-soprano.

This scene features one of the most beloved Cherubinos of all time, Frederica von Stade, singing the aria "Non so piu".

Mozart Week: Le Nozze di Figaro Act I: Via, resti servita

In this comical scene between the servant Susanna and the noblewoman Marcellina, we see the classical tension between the servant working class and the nobility. To say that Mozart and da Ponte removed the "politics" from Le Nozze di Figaro is a fallacy. Figaro is chocked full of the revolutionary politics of the time with the Count's servants working to outwit him and undo his plans at every turn.

Notice the slurs in the violins that sound like cats "meowing", indicating the "cat fight" that breaks out between them.

Marcellina (curtsying): To greet you, my lady, I'm honored supremely.
Susanna (curtsying): By your recognition I'm flattered extremely.
Marcellina (curtsying): Please enter before me.
Susanna (curtsying): No, no, you go first!
Marcellina: I beg you, ignore me!
Susanna (mocking): Your noble position, fine and patrician, inspires respect.
Marcellina (mocking): I know my position, bow to tradition, fine and patrician, with all due respect.
Marcellina: The bride of the hour!
Susanna: A lady of station!
Marcellina: The Count's little bella!
Susanna: The pride of the nation!
Marcellina: Her attitude!
Susanna: Dignified!
Marcellina: Her posture!
Susanna: Your age!
Marcellina: I swear I shall fly at her in one minute more!
Susanna (aside) Decrepit old battle ax, I'll settle your score.
Marcellina: I praise your deportment without reservation.
Susanna: And I, your experience and broad reputation!
Marcellina: So young and so pretty!
Susanna: The belle of the city!
Marcellina: What distance between us!
Susanna: The true Spanish Venus!
Marcellina: So innocent!
Susanna: Durable!
Marcellina: So simple!
Susanna: So old!
Marcellina: How dare she make fun of me, it is a disgrace!

It's Mozart Week!

Because January 27th, is Mozart's 255th birthday, I'll be celebrating by posting a scene from his opera, The Marriage of Figaro every day through this coming Thursday. Mozart regarded Figaro as one of his greatest triumphs and the role of Susanna, created for Nancy Storace, is considered one of the most coveted soprano roles.

Today I've featured the opening scene in Act I of Le Nozze di Figaro. Starring Bryn Terfel as Figaro and Alison Hagley as Susanna.

The Music: Exsultate Jubilate

In the year 1772 when Mozart was 17, he and his father, Leopold, traveled to Italy where he was commissioned to compose an opera (Lucio Silla), for the theater in Milan. It was there that Mozart was introduced to an amazing castrato (adult male soprano), named Venanzio Rauzzini, whom young Mozart said "Sings like an angel". Mozart composed his motet Exsultate Jubilate especially for Rauzzini and it was premiered on 17 January 1773 in Milan.

Only a few years later, Rauzzini moved to England and became a noted and respected voice instructor. When Nancy Storace turned 11 years old, her father turned her vocal instruction over to Rauzzini who, after hearing that some damage had been done to her voice (most likely due to over-singing and too much intense performing at such a young age), forbade her to perform for a year while he worked with her to undo the damage.

Rauzzini finished out his life and career in England and died in Bath in April of 1810 at the age of 63. Nancy Storace and her then common law husband, the English tenor, John Brahm (who had also been a student of Rauzzini's), erected a stone plaque in his memory.

The following is the Alleluia from Mozart's Exsultate Jubilate. Sung by male soprano Michael Maniaci.

The Gift

In the fall of 1786, Nancy Storace announced to the Bergtheater management that she would be returning to London to fulfill a contract that her brother, Stephen, had arranged (without her knowledge), over the previous summer. When Mozart learned of this, he began immediately to make plans to travel with Nancy, Stephen, their mother, Elizabeth, Michael Kelly, his English pupil, Thomas Atwood, and the young English nobleman (who had been residing in Vienna during his grand tour), Harry Vane (Lord Barnard), with them to London, where he hoped to gain a commission for some operas at the King's Theater. His plans were thwarted, however, when his wife, Constanze, who was pregnant with their third child, refused to allow him to go without her. Mozart wrote to his father, Leopold, (who lived in Salzburg), and asked if he would take the two children until he and Constanze were settled in London. He promised to make arrangements for a wet nurse for the baby as well as a nanny for little Karl. The request was sent shortly after the birth of their son, Johann Thomas Leopold, however, before Mozart received Leopold's reply, little Thomas died of a choking cough. Leopold's reply was a cold, scathing refusal. So it was with a heart heavy with grief, disappointment and discouragement that Mozart delivered the news to Nancy and his other English friends that he would not be traveling back with them to London.

The following December (1786), Mozart composed an aria (a "Scena con Rondo"), for Nancy and presented it to her as a gift (presumably for Christmas). The text was taken from his beloved opera Idomeneo and was really a vocal/piano duet, the piano part composed for him to play. It was his intentions that Nancy sing it at her Viennese farewell concert, which was scheduled for the night before the group's departure in February of 1787. In his thematic catalog, dated 27 December 1786, Mozart made the following personal entry next to the musical incipit of the aria: Für Mlle. Storace und mich (For Mademoiselle Storace and me). This is the only personal reference found in Mozart's thematic catalog.

The following is the scene from So Faithful a Heart where Mozart presents his gift to Nancy:


After supper, they all retired to the salon for a special presentation, for Mozart announced upon his arrival that he had a gift to give Nancy before he left for Prague. He motioned Nancy to step forward and join him at the fortepiano, where he sat, opening the aria. Knowing her excellent sight singing capabilities, he invited her to read through it with him in front of the other guests.

As she quickly leafed through the manuscript, she immediately recognized the text, and turned to him with tears brimming in her eyes. “I can’t believe you did this,” she whispered to him.
Mozart smiled sheepishly and replied softly, “It’s everything I wish to say to you, Wanze.” He silently mouthed the words to her in English, “I adore you, little bug.” He then played the opening measures of the recitative and she began to sing.


You ask me to forget you?
You advise me calmly to forget you and love another
and want that I still live?
Ah, No! I would rather die!
Come death! I wait for it courageously!
To seek consolation from another,
to give my love to another only fills my heart with dread!
Cruel suggestion! Ah! My despair will kill me.
Do not fear, my love will never be changed.
Faithful I shall always remain.
But my affliction has caused me to falter
and now my soul from grief must flee.
Are you sighing? O woe outpouring?
But all is vain to one who is begging.
O Heaven, I cannot express it!
Pity me, Heaven, see my anguish,
see the grief due to my affection!
Has ever such torment plagued so faithful a heart?
Has such doom or dejection ever beset such a loyal heart?
Hateful galaxies! Vile constellations!
Why should you beset me with such sorrow? Ah, why?

She thought that when he’d composed the role of Susanna, it was the ultimate in his public expression of his affection for her, but now this. Not even the tender, Deh vieni non tardar, which they had always considered their special aria, could compare. The music was passionate and tender all at once, and the piano part that he had composed for himself to play as a duet with her vocal line, wrapped itself around the vocal melody as a lover wrapping himself around the object of his devotion. She could hardly wait for her concert when they would perform it with the orchestra and she would be able to hear his piano line standing out from the orchestral accompaniment, mingling with hers in a public, musical declaration of what had taken place in their hearts and in their most intimate moments, behind closed doors.

After they finished the last bars, he stood and handed her the manuscript. She read the dedication aloud, “From your servant and friend…” and she threw her arms around his neck. He wrapped her in his embrace, the two of them remaining in one another’s arms for several moments as the small group of onlookers sat silently and watched, many of them moved to tears by what they had just heard and seen.

The Music: Sull'aria or The Letter Song from Le Nozze di Fiagro

One of the most beloved and delightful scenes in Figaro has to be when the Countess sits Susanna down at her desk and has her pen out the note that she will slip to the Count during the wedding festivities later on. Note three things that this implies: 1) Susanna is an educated servant; she can read and write, and 2) the Countess is conspiring in a plot against her husband with a servant, in order to trick him, and 3) they are both women in the process of outwitting the men.

These were all very revolutionary ideas in the 18th century and completely debunks the notion that Mozart and da Ponte removed the "offensive politics" from the story or that Mozart was a misogynist. Mozart's favorite story plots always involved strong, intelligent women undoing the men.

Lyrics and translation:

Sull'aria . . .

On the breeze . . .

Che soave zeffiretto . . .

What a gentle zephyr . . .

Zeffiretto . . .

Zephyr . . .

Questa sera spirera!

Will sigh this evening!

Questa sera spirera . . .

Will sigh this evening . . .

Sotto i pini del boschetto.

Beneath the pine grove.

Sotto i pini?

Beneath the pines?

Sotto i pini del boschetto . . .

Beneath the pine grove . . .

Ei gia il resto capira.

He will understand the rest.

Certo, certo il capira.

Certainly, he'll understand.

Ei gia il resto capira.

He will understand the rest.

Canzonetta sull'aria . . . etc.

Little tune on the breeze . . . etc.

The Music: Das Lied der Trennung (The Song of Parting)

In May of 1787, only three months following Nancy's departure from Vienna to return to London, Mozart composed this Lied based on a text by the German poet, Klamer Eberhard Karl Schmidt (1764-1824). It wasn't difficult at all to discern who Mozart had in mind when he chose this particular text.








God's angels weep when lovers part,
how can I go on living,
o maid, without you?
A stranger to all joys
henceforth I live to suffer!
And you, and you?
Possibly forever Luisa will forget me!
Possibly forever she will put me out of her mind!

Awake and in my dreams
I will quote Luisa's name;
professing her name
be a service for me;
I will even profess and praise it
when I am with God.
And you, and you?
Possibly forever Luisa will forget me!
Possibly forever she will put me out of her mind!

I cannot forget her,
here, there, everywhere
the burden of love pursues me
by the squeeze of her hands.
I tremble with longing for her,
and find myself forsaken!
And you, and you?
Possibly forever Luisa will forget me!
Possibly forever she will put me out of her mind!

I cannot forget her;
this heart, separated from her,
seems to beg me with sighs,
"My friend, remember me!"
Alas, I will remember you
until they lay me in the grave.
And you, and you?
Possibly forever Luisa will forget me!
Possibly forever she will put me out of her mind!

Oblivion robs within hours
what love bestows within years.
Like the turn of a hand
such is the turn of a heart.
When new courtships
have supplanted me in her heart,
o God, then Luisa will possibly forget me forever.

Alas, remember our parting!
That tearless silence,
that throbbing of the heart
may weigh you down
like a burdening nightmare;
will you think of someone else,
will you forget me some day,
forget God and yourself?

Alas, remember our parting!
This token, bitten amid kisses
onto my mouth
may judge me and you!
With this memento on my lips
I will come in the witching hour,
to be you a warning,
that Luisa forgets me,
that she puts me out of her mind!

The Music: Zeffiretti lusinghieri from Mozart's Idomeneo

During the Lenten season of 1786, while Le Nozze di Figaro was in rehearsal, Nancy sang the role of Ilia in Mozart's "Idomeneo", in a concert performance at Palais Auersperg, in Vienna. The following is an excerpt from Chapter 12 of So Faithful a Heart:


It was a frigged January afternoon as Mozart sat in the music room of his apartment at his fortepiano, rehearsing with Nancy, Ilia's Act Three aria, in which she asks the breezes to carry her confession of love to Idamante, who has gone to battle the sea serpent. The warmth of Nancy's voice seemed to soften the chill in the air which had invaded the room from outside, and he didn't seem to notice the white puffs of steam that poured from her mouth as she exhaled.


Zeffiretti lusinghieri, Deh volate al mio tesoro: E gli dite, ch'io l'adoro, Che mi serbi il cor fedel. (Gently caressing breezes, fly to my beloved. Tell him that I adore him and keep him faithful.)


"That's it, Nancy! Smoooothly...yes...yes," he coached as he raised his hand in the air. "Lovely...hold that now...crescendo...now let it trail off...yes!" He stopped playing and sighed, "Oh how I wish you could have been my original Ilia! How Munich would have adored you, Nancy!"

The Music: Plasir d'amour

In one very tender scene from So Faithful a Heart, Nancy's brother walks in on her to find her playing her guitar and singing a very popular tune of the time. It was composed in 1780 by Jean Paul Égide Martini, (with whom Mozart studied for a short time when he was 14 years old while he and his father were touring in Italy), entitled Plasir d'amour (The Joys of Love). In the 20th century it was recorded by several pop ballad artists including Joan Baez in 1961, and Nana Mouskouri in 1997.

I listened to several recordings of the piece and I was never able to find one that I liked altogether, so I settled on the Mouskouri recording, which incorporates a more modern orchestration, but captures the mood and the spirit of the piece better than any other recording I could find. She sings it in the original French, so I have provided the English translation below.



The pleasure of love lasts only a moment The pain of love lasts a lifetime.
I gave up everything for ungrateful Sylvia,
She is leaving me for another lover.
The pleasure of love lasts only a moment,
The pain of love lasts a lifetime.
"As long as this water will run gently
Towards this brook which borders the meadow,
I will love you", Sylvia told me repeatedly.
The water still runs, but she has changed.
The pleasure of love lasts only a moment,
The pain of love lasts a lifetime.

The Music: Handel, Lascia Ch'io Pianga from Rinaldo

In Chapter Six of So Faithful a Heart a poignant moment occurs between Nancy and Wolfgang when she sings Handel's Lascia Ch'io Pianga during an impromptu concert in the Baroness Waldtstätten's music salon at her estate in Klosterneuburg.

     “It’s your turn, Nancy, dear. We’ve not heard from you yet,” Elisabeth said as she slipped her arm through Nancy’s and led her to the harpsichord.

     Mozart turned and walked to the wine table to pour himself another glass as Michael moved from the fortepiano to take a seat to listen.

     “Why don’t you sing that ravishing little aria that you sang for me the other day?” she suggested as she gracefully positioned herself at the keyboard. “I’ll accompany you.”

     “What was it you sang, Nancy? We’d love to hear you perform it for us,” Michael said cheerfully as he made his way to a comfortable, overstuffed settee.

     Mozart, who stood with his back turned, teased, “It’s probably a bawdy little pub song that she learned back in England!” But almost before he could finish his sentence, the Baroness began to play. He stood motionless as he heard the opening notes and instantly recognized the introductory chords of the continuo. He was overtaken with emotion as he remembered the day at the Baron van Swieten’s home when he suggested to Nancy that one day she should sing this aria for him, for it was on that day he realized he had begun to fall in love with her.

     “Lascia ch’io pianga, mia cruda sorte…”

     He turned around, his gaze intense and fixed upon her.

     “…e che so spiri, la liberta!” Her voice was plaintive and full of longing. She understood perfectly well the suffering of which she sang. “Let me weep over my cruel fate, for I long for freedom. I pray for mercy for my sufferings!”

     Mozart stood transfixed, overcome with tenderness for this young woman who stole his heart in that very moment.

     “Il duolo ingfranga, queste ritorte, de miei martiri, sol per pieta!"

     Their gaze met across the divide as she sang to him.

     “Have pity! Shatter my chains out of mercy for my suffering!”

     When she finished there was only silence. She had ripped her heart from herself and held it out for everyone in the room to see. Finally Michael broke the silence by quietly suggesting to the Baroness that they take a turn around the rose garden, leaving Mozart and Nancy alone in the salon.

     Nancy, who remained stationed by the harpsichord, watched intently as Mozart sat his wine glass on the table and silently crossed the room toward her. As he drew nearer, she saw the tears that pooled in his eyes and her heart began to race once again as she felt the blush return. He stood close to her, barely breathing, and gently enveloped her in his arms, pulling her to him. She wrapped her arms softly around his neck and closed her eyes as he kissed her tenderly on the forehead. There they stood silently, for several moments holding one another in their arms. Then, without a word, he took her by the hand and led her out of the salon, into the great hall and up the stairs to her bedchamber, quietly closing the door behind them.

The Music: Handel, But Who May Abide from Messiah

In Chapter Three of So Faithful a Heart, Nancy is invited by the Baron von Swieten to sing for one of his Sunday musicales, to sing several of the soprano solos in Handel's Messiah.

"At the conclusion of the overture, Michael stood and began to sing the first recitative and the accompanying air, Every Valley, which was followed by the chorus, And the Glory of the Lord. Nancy and Michael were amused as the group, made up primarily of Viennese men and women, with the occasional Italian, struggled with the English pronunciations. On several occasions they would stop the music and defer to their English guests on how to correctly pronounce some of the more difficult words. Then after Nancy stood and gave her rendition of the air But Who May Abide, she was greeted with thunderous applause by the gathering, who were most notably impressed by her skillful manipulation of the difficult melismatic passages in the prestissimo section." 

It is recorded  that Mozart was in regular attendance at these Sunday musicales hosted by the Baron in his home. Van Swieten was a lover of fugues and therefore was greatly enamored of the music of both Bach and Handel. He was a great admirer of Mozart's and introduced him to the music of Bach and Handel, as well as hired him to accompany his Sunday afternoon musicales, which were held in van Swieten's large library.

The aria, But Who May Abide the Day of His Coming, is generally sung by bass in most contemporary performances, but Handel originally composed it to be sung by soprano. The following recording features soprano Lorraine Hunt with Nicholas McGegan and the Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra.

The Music: La scuola de gelosi by Antonio Salieri

In the opening chapters of So Faithful a Heart we learn that Nancy has just been hired by His Imperial Majesty, Joseph II of Austria, as the prima buffa (first comedienne), of his newly-formed Italian Opera Company. At the tender age of seventeen, Nancy travels from Venice (with her mother, Elizabeth, as her escort), to accept her position in the Austrian capital of Vienna. Upon her arrival she is given three days to rest and orient herself to her new surroundings before she is to report to the first rehearsals at the Burgtheater.

The opera that Nancy premiered was Antonio Salieri's La scuola de gelosi (The School of Jealousy), in which she took the role of the Countess Bandiera.  The plot of the opera involves love intrigues, attempted seductions and provocations to jealousy between members of the three different social strata: the aristocracy, the bourgeoisie and the working class, which was typical for plots in the early to late 1780s.

For the Viennese premiere, Salieri composed a new grand aria especially for Nancy, entitled Ah sia gia de' miei sospiri. It is sung here by the great Italian mezzo-soprano, Cecelia Bartoli.

Handel's Let the bright Seraphim, from Sampson

Because So Faithful a Heart is a novel about two musicians, music plays a huge role within the scope of the plot. I thought it might be interesting and helpful to do a series of posts about the music featured in the book, so that readers who might not be familiar some of the pieces could have a chance to hear some of the selections.

In chapter two, Nancy meets Mozart at a grand palatial reception designed to introduce the members of the Emperor's new Italian Opera Company. In addition to meeting Mozart, she also meets Aloysia Lange, Mozart's sister-in-law, who was, considered the best singer in Vienna at the time. Aloysia, who is already quite jealous over Nancy and the reputation she has already garnered throughout the city, receives her rather coldly.

     “I hear you are to entertain us with a taste of your talent, Mademoiselle,” Mozart interjected in an attempt to break the ice, which had frozen what was an otherwise warm introduction. “I can’t tell you how I look forward to hearing you sing. Pray, tell us what you will offer us this afternoon,” he went on enthusiastically, already charmed by her appearance and obvious intelligence.

     “I’ve chosen some arias by Paisiello and a favorite of mine by Handel, Let the bright Seraphim from Sampson, as well as one of the Countess’ arias from the Salieri piece which opens in two weeks,” she replied nervously. She suddenly realized this would be her first time to sing for Mozart, who could be rather critical. “If I may, I need to excuse myself because I believe it is almost time for me to take my place for the concert.”

Let the bright Seraphim from Handel's oratorio, Sampson, was considered one of the best arias in Nancy Storace's repertoire. It is sung here by soprano, Kathleen Battle.