“A bachelor, in my opinion, is only half alive,” Mozart wrote to his father in 1781. He longed to marry Constanze Weber, hearing the insistent call of the “voice of nature . . . as loud in me as others, louder, perhaps, than in many a big strong lout of a fellow.” Mozart’s father Leopold had different ideas, however. Convinced that Constanze’s mother, whom he termed “the seducer of youth,” was plotting to rid his naïve son of all of his money, Leopold staunchly refused to assent to their union. Ultimately, love’s siren song was more persuasive than parental opinion. Mozart and Constanze married on August 4, 1782—the day before the arrival of a letter bearing his father’s grudging approval. Despite his willingness to defy his father, Mozart continued to hope for his blessing. Toward the end of July 1783, the newlyweds traveled to Salzburg and stayed with Leopold for three months. Mozart did his best to impress his father during their visit, even writing several pieces for Constanze to perform for his family. Unfortunately, the trip was a disaster. Leopold remained entirely unpersuaded by their union, and the rift between Mozart and his father grew even more pronounced.

The pair finally left Salzburg for Vienna in late fall 1783, arriving in Linz on October 30 as the guests of Count Thun the Elder and his son. A devoted music lover, Count Thun maintained an excellent orchestra, and Mozart agreed to give a concert at the Linz Theatre in exchange for his host’s generosity. As Mozart confessed to his father, “I do not have a single symphony on me, [and] I shall write a new one in a hurry.” The result was the Symphony No. 36 in C Major, known today as the Linz Symphony. The work seems to reflect the joy and sorrow bound together in Mozart’s personal life. Flashes of pessimism and pensiveness interrupt the generally serene and happy character of the Symphony No. 36, just as Leopold’s disapproval tempered the happiness of the newlyweds. The first movement begins with a brief Adagio (the earliest instance of Mozart introducing a symphony in this manner) that revolves around the distinction between vigorous dotted rhythms and lyrical, expressive figures. The ensuing Allegro evokes an exoticism reminiscent of The Abduction from the Seraglio that quickly dissolves in a torrent of trumpets and drums. This sharp contrast obtains throughout the work. These two instruments also add an almost apocalyptic touch in the somber Poco adagio, balanced by the rustic and straightforward third movement. In the virtuosic finale, fleeting reminders of gloom occasionally interrupt the generally lighthearted and buoyant mood.