A Radical Theory about Archbishop Colloredo

I once read: in literature, a character (whether good or bad) should never be entirely one-sided. Antagonists written completely evil for the sake of being evil are shallow, boring and unrealistic. One such character in Mozart’s life is so often portrayed in such a manner. Archbishop Colloredo. Here’s my radical theory that alters that portrayal. I intend to paint Colloredo not as a child squeezing a struggling kitten tighter, but more as a conservationist chasing away a captive-born endangered animal.

First off, who was the man? Archbishop Colloredo took over after his predecessor, Archbishop Schrattenbach. Leopold hadn’t much respect for Schrattenbach, although the man had been quite generous to the Mozarts. Schrattenbach paid for their journeys, while Leopold scavenged for employment elsewhere. In addition, he used the possibility of new employment to extort for higher pay and position. From early on, Mozart was conditioned to have an adversarial role with the Archbishop. How much did Colloredo know about Leopold’s disrespect of the previous Archbishop?


After the death of Schrattenbach, Archbishop Colloredo won a controversial election. Once in office, he enacted some new policies. In each of their biographies on Mozart, Maynard Solomon and Julian Rushton both emphasize that Colloredo was no ‘liberal/progressive’ (Mozart: a Life. Harper Collins, 1995) (Julian Rushton. Mozart. Oxford University Press, 2006). Of course, neither author directly defines his terms. My guess would be Solomon and Rushton are using present-mined liberal/progressive connotations. However, one generation’s progressive sometimes ends up being a future generation’s conservative. For example, the term ‘classical liberal’ is associated with the more extreme right-wing. Our primarily secular culture—especially patrons of modern progressive philosophies—tends to quickly vilify religious authorities. (Surely, such criticisms have merit.)

Why does that matter? I am trying to establish that for his time, Colloredo was a progressive. Someone who instituted change. Moreover, he was someone who knew how to make change happen in spite of opposition. A very shrewd politician who believed what he was doing was right. We have the tendency to hate these politicians when we disagree with them, but love them when they crusade for our cause. So what were some of his changes? Many were similar to Emperor Joseph II. But, efficiencies dominated his priorities. Efficiencies and the arts have been known to butt heads. And, lacking a full-hearted support for the arts is often enough to strip one of the label ‘progressive’ via modern scholars. But I can’t help but think of his changes, and wonder if I would agree. In worship, Colloredo shortened liturgy and music. He also removed unessential and superstitious elements. In my experience, modern progressives favor liturgical, musical, and superstitious elements of religiosity over doctrinal. In a world dominated by the aristocracy, to whom did pre-Colloredo elements ultimately cater? It was the common work person who had a hard time sitting through lengthy services.

Although Colloredo instituted change, he knew how far to push his limits. For example, he covered his provocative paintings whenever more conservative patrons visited. Consequently, to play politics Colloredo needed to control the Mozarts. Salzburg loved Mozart. They loved the attention he brought the city. And, I highly doubt the city placed Mozart’s career dreams over their desires to use him for fame and gain. It would be political suicide for Colloredo to do anything to encourage Mozart to abandon Salzburg.

So, now it is 1777. In his efficiencies, Colloredo limited the Mozart travels. Putting myself in his shoes, I have a hard time blaming him. I liken it to my work. If I were to complain about how horrible my boss was, yet demanded that he should pay for me to work at other locations while I try to find a position there, how should I reasonably expect him to react? Leopold, however, believed Colloredo to be completely unreasonable. Eventually, he sent the Archbishop a letter. He stated that the Gospel requires people to use their talents. And, he requested to be allowed to tour again. Even if Colloredo wasn’t a prideful man (which he clearly was), he’d certainly have a hard time with such demands. The archbishop responded with his infamous letter, ‘in the name of the Gospel, father and son have my permission to seek their fortune elsewhere.’

So, why did Colloredo essentially fire the Mozarts ‘in the name of the Gospel’? The less-than-religious, and even many of the religious, would say such an action is contrary to the Gospel. But, this is not necessarily the case. True, Leopold was correct. The Gospel does call us to use our talents for God. However, the main thrust of the Gospel is trusting that God has provided, and will provide, in order that we may use our talents. Colloredo (who himself likely had faith issues) knew Leopold lacked the faith to venture out without an earthly safety net. Leopold caved, and Colloredo took him back as long as he remained in Salzburg.

Mozart, however, traveled Europe. Leopold monetarily supported the trip. Why did Colloredo allow him to go? Many books and documentaries seem suggest Colloredo did this to spite Leopold, and watch Mozart fail. Spiting Leopold may be possible, but I can’t help but wondering if he really wanted Mozart to fail. Sure, there’s the old if you let a bird go cliché. I just can’t imagine a politically-calculated man releasing his arena’s prized calf, apart from any other motive than principle. If spiting Leopold was the lone goal, he had already had the man humbled to full servitude. I believe Colloredo truly wanted Mozart to find a suitable position on his journey.

Not only did Colloredo want Mozart to find a suitable post, he may have wanted Mozart to gain independence from his domineering father. That is why he insisted Leopold never leave Salzburg. However, Mozart’s journey failed. In addition, his mother died, which ended up giving Leopold even more power over his son, who blamed Mozart for her death. Leopold found a position for Mozart back in the service of Colloredo. Possibly, for the sake of Salzburg political pressure, and for the sorrowed musician’s soul, Colloredo took Mozart back. (And, here’s where my theories will grow to their radical climax.) Colloredo now knows he will have to seek extreme measures to separate Father from son, while not enraging his Salzburg constituents.

Colloredo had to know Mozart’s passion for Opera. And, a commission for an Opera in Munich may have been the catalyst for a plan to release Mozart. If Colloredo truly wanted to keep Mozart in an un-spirited servitude, no way would he allow the musician the commission of Idomeneo. Then, of all actions, he calls Mozart directly to Vienna afterward. No stop back to Salzburg. That would be like a producer asking a rookie, Broadway-acclaimed actor to join him in Hollywood. In his biography on Mozart, Julian Rushton recognizes the difficulty Colloredo would have had by inviting Mozart to the Vienna, the land of opera and keyboard. Ruston states that Colloredo believed he had the power to control Mozart, especially with his father still in Salzburg (Julian Rushton. Mozart. Oxford University Press, 2006, pg. 102). Again, this portrayal of Colloredo seems to paint a picture of a daft, arrogant, small man unconcerned with any bigger picture.

But, something about this portrayal just doesn’t make sense to me. If Colloredo was a man who needed to prove he had the largest phallus in the room, why would he cover up a painting to please peons? (Again, I’m not saying he was an altruistic crusader.) Colloredo was more sophisticated than that, the shrewd politician. Not, only did Mozart’s trip to Munich goad an opera passion, it kept the young man away from his father. Separation from Leopold would have more likely fueled Mozart’s rebellion, not snuffed it.

Now, I can imagine the vigor and optimism surging through Mozart’s nerves as he arrived in Vienna. The young musician was ready to take on the city. Only one obstacle stood in his way: Colloredo. Historians would have us believe that Colloredo wanted to show his dominance, and he laid it on thick. Making Mozart sit with servants, refusing to let him talk to the aristocracy, kicking Mozart out of his quarters, denying a lucrative gig, demanding Mozart leave for Salzburg immediately and without warning, etc. No one can, will, or should deny Colloredo acted like an ass. Even fellow musicians agreed his behavior was over the top. So did the aristocracy. Even if he didn’t value his ‘servants’ opinions, surely, he thought highly of the views of the affluent. (If he were in fact a small, daft, arrogant ass.) But, I believe Colloredo went to drastic measures to drive Mozart away completely.

So, if Colloredo wanted Mozart gone, why didn’t he simply let the musician go? Salzburg. The city loved their treasure, and for Colloredo to give up Mozart would have been political suicide for a less-than-popular archbishop. He had already let Mozart go once. Colloredo needed Mozart to abandon him, and leave in such a manner that he would never return. (When Mozart did rebel, Salzburg disowned the musician, not the archbishop.) The archbishop struck Mozart’s pride. What things did Colloredo tell Mozart that final day? From his letters we can gain a lot of information, but it is the unmentioned elements that draw my curiosity. Particularly, what Colloredo said about Mozart’s father? From his letter on May 9, 1781, Mozart mentions he wanted to spare Leopold’s feelings (Mozart Letters. Trans. by Lady Wallace. Published by Alfred A. Knoff 2006, pg 165). From what? What were the anti-Leopold comments? I could imagine Colloredo telling Mozart that his father was a faithless man, who didn’t trust Mozart’s job acquiring abilities. He may have also blamed Leopold for Mozart’s career troubles. (There is plenty of evidence that Leopold may have in fact been the source of Mozart’s trouble.)

Colloredo needed to address the father/son relationship, for he knew Leopold would attempt to convince Mozart to return. And Leopold tried quite hard to get Mozart to go back to Colloredo. Mozart was so offended by the attempts, he may have likely tore up his father’s letters, and thus we don’t have them. Leopold, and not Colloredo, may have also conspired with Count Arco to try to get Mozart to return. With an Arco Arse boot, the musician’s resolve only thickened.

Ok. If all the events from the Paris journey to Vienna firing were part of a master Colloredo plot, why? Sure, he may have done everything the way he did it to avoid political fallout. But, why not keep Mozart around and let him be the musician he wanted to be? Wouldn’t that be another way to avoid political controversy? I will pose three possible reasons. One, the altruistic reason: Colloredo wanted what was best for Mozart. If this theory is true, the archbishop wanted Mozart to find employment on his Parisian tour. And, he actually wanted to share Mozart with the world. Moreover, Colloredo recognized the unhealthy control Leopold had over his son and wanted to free Mozart. In the end, he found harsh means to do so. Such methods are not historically uncommon. For example, Henry Ford treated his son ruthlessly in order to get a rise out of him, so the man would be a better businessperson.

A second reason, Colloredo may have not liked Mozart and simply no longer wanted to pay for his services and deal with his antics. The third, Colloredo wanted to spite Leopold. Nothing could slap Leopold like driving away the man’s hope for fame and success. Ultimately, all three reasons whisper some truth, but, to me, the first and third resonate the most powerful.

Finally, I would like to address the reason I wrote this article. I’ve read books and watched documentaries. This theory has been poking my spine, keeping me up at night. I’ve been telling myself, ‘who are you to come up with such theories?’ For the longest time, I’ve ignored my inklings to share. But, when I think of movies such as Amadeus (which I actually loved) and Mozart’s Sister (hated), I say to myself, ‘who are their creators?’ What right do they have to mess with history with their theories? So, I figured, ‘why not?’ I’ll share this with the one or two people who may actually read it, and see who will tell me I’m out of my mind. I do have more in-depth arguments to support my theory, but that felt for the sake of brevity it was necessary to simply offer highlights. 

Let me know what you think. Am I crazy?  

If you're interest in a work that Mozart started in during the Colloredo years, check out my novel Zaide: Mozart's Lost Opera. I think there could possibly be some symbolism that applies.