Leon Rosselson 1991
Nancy Kerr: “‘Nannerl’ is Maria Anna Mozart (1751-1829) and I’d always heard this as an ‘ignored woman genius’ biography. Deeper listening also uncovers the speaker’s subtle disdain not just for the wayward brother but for art itself. ‘In the end, what good did all that music do?’ Of course, this should really be played on the clavier, but I decided to use viola – the ignored genius of the string section.” Rosselson: “The bicentenary of Mozart’s death in 1991 seemed to me to be worth a small song. Nannerl, like her younger brother, was a wonder child on the clavier. Both were paraded round Europe by their proud father for the entertainment and amusement of the aristocracy.”
Nancy Kerr: https://nancykerr.bandcamp.com/track/whatever-happened-to-nannerl
https://nancykerr.bandcamp.com/track/whatever-happened-to-nannerl
Chorus: Whatever happened to Nannerl, Nannerl? She showed such promise as a girl With her nimble little fingers Racing up and down the keyboard Why do we never hear her name, her name? And we thought she was bound for fame. Sitting playing duets at the harpsichord What a pretty pair they made She was so demure she hardly said a word He was such a show-off, always on parade Expecting to be worshipped like a god He was a cocky little sod She showed no resentment that her father lavished All of his attention on the boy Spoiled him so that if he felt he wasn’t loved Tears would be the girlish weapon he’d employ While she was always smiling, being good Behaving as a daughter should (talent as a girl) Trouble was he didn’t understand the times Never learned to bend of knew his place Always telling smutty jokes and playing games Mocking his superiors, such a disgrace To say that the Archbishop was a prick The man was definitely sick (talent as a girl) Nannerl married well and was her pa’s support Settled down to lead a useful life Her brother went his own way, broke his father’s heart With his wilful ways and foolish choice of wife Lived it up as if he was a lord You don’t spend what you can’t afford (promise, for a girl) Arrogance, in my view, was what brought him low Thought that he could make it on his own And in the end what good did all that music do Spent his last days scrounging, begging for a loan You must obey the rules, work hard and save Or end up in a pauper’s grave (talent, for a girl)