Mozart and Underpants.

I have always thought Mozart to be the musical equivalent of a grass seed in the underpants.
Most of his music seems to me to consist of irritating repetition of simple and unattractive themes, only sometimes being dignified by the title "Rondo".

I have the feeling that he devised the reliable trick of churning out pococurante compositions on demand, trading on his reputation as a prodigy. 
A bit like Ken Done in art. (Although unlike Done, he did manage to occasionally produce a true masterpiece.)

If my opinion has any merit, his was a monumentally wasted talent. 
I can't help but compare his music with the brilliantly complex and beautiful work of Bach, who was equally prolific.
Or if simplicity is desirable, with Handel.

However, those who actually know something about music regard Mozart as an unparalleled genius, so I am, in my ignorance, obviously wrong-headed. 
But whenever I hear Eine kleine Nachtmusik, I am tempted to take to the radio with an axe.

My wife's father was a musical elitist, and disdained accessible music such as Puccini, regarding me as a musical dilettante. 
However since "dilettante" is derived from an Italian word meaning "to delight in", I don't feel too badly.


I discussed my dilettantism with my friend and drinking companion, Ian, who is the house philosopher at the St Clair Tavern in Kirkcaldy.  
He told me: "Just as looking at something white will enhance appreciation of colours in all their splendour, and just as sorbet is sometimes served between courses as a way to cleanse the palate before the main course, Mozart enhances the appreciation of the splendour of Bach."

I think I could accept Mozart as a palate cleanser.
I will listen again.

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