The Girl in the Shadows

It should have been me,

I should have been famous,

I should have been a renowned pianist, known to all of Europe,

But I am stuck in the shadows of my brother,

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

I was eight when I started to play the clavier,

Father taught and wrote menuets for me,

He told me that I was gifted, and that I had so much potential,

I felt so pleased to be praised by my father.

One day, my four year old brother walked up to me,

“Nannerl,” he said.  “Will you teach me to play the clavier?”

“No, Wolfy, you are too young.” I replied.

He started to pout, “Am not!”,

He climbed onto the bench and touched each key,

Amazed by each sound a key made when it was struck,

Then he started to play thirds and then chords,

Pleased, he started hesitantly playing the menuet that I have just learnt without my music book,

I was shocked, my brother is a musical prodigy.

Father came storming into music room yelling,

“Nannerl! I just taught you that! Why are you playing it so badly? I thought—“

He stopped in his tracks, looking at Wolfy innocently touching the keys and playing flawless arpeggios and scales,

He gasped, his eyes widening, and his lips widening into a smile,

“My boy is a child prodigy!” He grinned, his anger vanishing.

I looked in disbelief, Father wasn’t angry?

“I better tell my friends!” he gasped. “My children can perform in front of the royal court!”

I beamed, at least some people might recognize my talent.

Weeks passed and Wolfy got better and better at the clavier,

He even started to pick up the violin,

His little fingers struggling to play some notes,

Wolfy had even started composing, 

Writing and scribbling for hours on end,

While I, still haven’t improved much,

Reality dawned on me,

No matter what,

I will always be upstaged by my brother.

The performance was drawing closer and closer,

Anxiety and fear were all on my mind,

Unlike Wolfy who was bouncing excitedly in the carriage ride there, I was worried,

What if I mess up in front of everyone?

At the start of the performance, the announcer shouted,

“Please welcome Leopold Mozart’s amazing children,

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Maria Anna Mozart, child prodigies!”

I played first, my hands fluttered across the keys,

My once anxious heart stilled as the notes formed into majestic melodies,

I’ve never played like this before, it was different,

I looked over to Father standing at the side,

The look on his face said everything,

Even he was shocked!

The audience started applauding politely with a few occasional “brava”s.

But when Wolfy played, he charmed the audience with his cuteness, playing both the clavier and the violin,

The second Wolfy finished playing, the audience erupted into instant applause with many shouting and hugging Wolfy.

I was proud of him for all he had done,

But all I was selfishly thinking was,

Why didn’t they clap for me like that after my performance?

Father was especially proud and in a good mood after that,

The royal court enjoyed our performance and gifted us 300 marks which was more than what Father earned in a year,

The days that followed, while Father was out scouting for more performance opportunities, 

I was watching Wolfy compose, 

Note after note, line after line,

It was fun watching Wolfy, because after every line that he wrote,

He would tilt his head a little, as if imagining it playing in his tiny head.

After a while, Wolfy noticed and offered me music paper and a pen,

“Try it, Nannerl, you are so good at making melodies. Why not write them down for me to enjoy?” He asked.

“No.” I said sadly. “I can’t.”

His watery eyes widened, “Well, why not? Just try!”

I relented, “Wolfy, have you ever seen a woman compose? No! Right now only men can compose but I could play your pieces if you wanted me to. Plus Father would notice and I’ll be in very big trouble.”

“That’s not fair!” He pouted.

“I know.” I replied agreeing with him.

“Why don’t you compose and I’ll hide it with my papers so that Father won’t know that they are yours. I won’t tell anyone!” He said.

I really wanted to compose so I gave in.

“Very well, Wolfy,” I smiled. “I’ll do it for you!”

He gave me paper and my ideas started transferring to the paper, it was as easy as breathing.

Days passed and I finally understood what Wolfy meant when he said it was fun to compose,

It was like writing down everything one felt, happy, sad, anxious, into beautiful strings of music.

Wolfy was true to his promise and slipped my music into his folder.

That night, I heard Father shouting excitedly to Mother,

“Did you see Wolfy’s compositions? They’re wonderful!” He exclaimed.

“Imagine if Nannerl played one of Wolfy’s compositions? Imagine how much fame we would get!” Father added.

I saw he was holding up the folder with Wolfy’s music, and mine too,

My heart skipped a beat,

Would he discover the messier pages and different styles that are from my music?

I was so scared that I couldn’t sleep that night,

What if I told Father about my music?

But there are endless possibilities,

He could accuse me of taking credit of Wolfy’s work,

He could disown me,

I could be the first woman to compose,

But a small part of me wished that he would be proud of me,

Because no matter what, I’m always in the shadows of Wolfy.

A few days later, I woke up late and went to the kitchen to make breakfast,

But sitting on top of the dinner table,

Was a book of sonatinas, 

Coiled neatly, thick and new,

I went closer to see it, touching the glossy cover,

I flipped through the first sonata, 

I recognized it instantly, it was Wolfy’s,

So I flipped further through the book,

It was my sonatina after another!

I frantically checked the cover,

It said, “Music by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart”,

A sickening thump echoed the room as I dropped the book,

My brother has stolen my music.

I couldn’t be mad at Wolfy, 

It wasn’t his fault,

But I was just mad at myself,

Mad at myself for believing that I could be famous,

Mad at myself for thinking that Father could be proud of me,

Mad at myself for composing,

I made a vow, I would never compose again.

In the end, I got what I wanted,

Some say that I am one of the best musicians in Europe,

While others argue that my brother is better,

I don’t care anymore,

Since I overheard Father restricting me from performing anymore when I turn 15,

So that I can get married,

It’s so unfair,

Music is my life,

But since I’m a girl, I must stop so I can marry,

I wish I was a boy,

And it could be me,

And I could be famous,

And I could be a renowned pianist,

Known to all of Europe,

But I will and always be,

Stuck in the shadows of my brother,

The amazing Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart,

I am her,

The girl whose life has been forgotten,

Because of her brother,

I am her,

The girl behind some of his work,

I am her,

And I hope someone out there is proud of me,

I am her, 

A little girl just trying to be loved and recognized,

I am her,

And I will not go away.