Orchestral manoeuvres in profiteering!
ORCHESTRAL MANOEUVRES
IN PROFITEERING!
1991 has barely stepped out of its underpants and already Gazzamania is in danger of being gazumped - by Mozzamania!
Yes, you’ve heard the tunes, seen the film and laughed at the silly hairstyle - now wear the socks, chew the chops and buy the lunch boxes.
In case you haven’t heard (and if not, you soon will), this year is the bicentenary of the death of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. No, not West Germany’s star midfielder during the last World Cup, but some 18th century superbrat who wrote catchy classical music.
Although the actual anniversary is still some 11 months away, the junk merchants of Salzburg and Vienna are already drawing up plans on how to export Mozza overkill to the rest of the world.
But while Gazza has spent the last six months crying all the way to the bank, mighty Mozza will avoid accusations of cashing in on his own name on account of having had the misfortune to die 200 years ago. A bad career move for any aspiring musician!
Mozart as portrayed in the 1984 film.
Like our own "Mr Cashcoin”, young Wolfie - who was only 35 when he popped his clogs - was a bit of a lad, by all accounts. In his day the keyboard king was the Elton John of Austria, with his colourful clothes and flamboyant fashions.
The amorous Amadeus also enjoyed a certain reputation between the sheets (and I’m not talking music here, ladies). Had he been alive today, he would probably be hosting Trick or Treat with Mike Smith - or at least be giving Jive Bunny a run for his money in the pop charts.
Like many current musicians, of course, the precocious composer does not play a single note on his own albums. But the commercial spin-offs over the next 12 months are set to make the marketing men a considerable fortune from his name.
Mozza was the Elton John of Austria
In the delicatessen which occupies the ground floor of the Salzburg building where Mozart was born, you can buy Mozza marzipan and drink Amadeus beer (you know it's Mozart’s birthplace because it has “Mozart’s Birthplace” emblazoned on the side in huge gold letters).
Elsewhere in the city you can stuff your face with Mozart cookies and chocolates or splash yourself all over with Mozart perfume (“a new young symphony of scent” according to the adverts), while local book and record stores heave with Mozartabilia.
In Vienna airport’s duty-free shop there is an exact life-size model of Mozza playing a violin, which is made entirely of chocolate and apparently took 180 hours to create.
Some of the Mozart tourist tat on sale in Salzburg.
And as he lived at a dozen different places in the city during the last decade of his life, you can expect souvenir shops to spring up on every street corner, selling everything from Mozart socks, T-shirts and nail-clippers to posters and paperweights, chewbars and condoms!
If Mozart came back today, he would no doubt roar with laughter at the ridiculous razzmatazz surrounding his name (though I bet he’d be pretty miffed with what Waldo de Los Rios did to his 40th Symphony).
For a child prodigy who wrote his first concerto aged four and symphony at seven, the boy wonder undoubtedly done good. But believe me, the hype starts here...
1991 has barely stepped out of its underpants and already Gazzamania is in danger of being gazumped - by Mozzamania!
Yes, you’ve heard the tunes, seen the film and laughed at the silly hairstyle - now wear the socks, chew the chops and buy the lunch boxes.
In case you haven’t heard (and if not, you soon will), this year is the bicentenary of the death of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. No, not West Germany’s star midfielder during the last World Cup, but some 18th century superbrat who wrote catchy classical music.
Although the actual anniversary is still some 11 months away, the junk merchants of Salzburg and Vienna are already drawing up plans on how to export Mozza overkill to the rest of the world.
But while Gazza has spent the last six months crying all the way to the bank, mighty Mozza will avoid accusations of cashing in on his own name on account of having had the misfortune to die 200 years ago. A bad career move for any aspiring musician!
Mozart as portrayed in the 1984 film.
Like our own "Mr Cashcoin”, young Wolfie - who was only 35 when he popped his clogs - was a bit of a lad, by all accounts. In his day the keyboard king was the Elton John of Austria, with his colourful clothes and flamboyant fashions.
The amorous Amadeus also enjoyed a certain reputation between the sheets (and I’m not talking music here, ladies). Had he been alive today, he would probably be hosting Trick or Treat with Mike Smith - or at least be giving Jive Bunny a run for his money in the pop charts.
Like many current musicians, of course, the precocious composer does not play a single note on his own albums. But the commercial spin-offs over the next 12 months are set to make the marketing men a considerable fortune from his name.
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| Mozza was the Elton John of Austria |
In the delicatessen which occupies the ground floor of the Salzburg building where Mozart was born, you can buy Mozza marzipan and drink Amadeus beer (you know it's Mozart’s birthplace because it has “Mozart’s Birthplace” emblazoned on the side in huge gold letters).
Elsewhere in the city you can stuff your face with Mozart cookies and chocolates or splash yourself all over with Mozart perfume (“a new young symphony of scent” according to the adverts), while local book and record stores heave with Mozartabilia.
In Vienna airport’s duty-free shop there is an exact life-size model of Mozza playing a violin, which is made entirely of chocolate and apparently took 180 hours to create.
|
| Some of the Mozart tourist tat on sale in Salzburg. |
And as he lived at a dozen different places in the city during the last decade of his life, you can expect souvenir shops to spring up on every street corner, selling everything from Mozart socks, T-shirts and nail-clippers to posters and paperweights, chewbars and condoms!
If Mozart came back today, he would no doubt roar with laughter at the ridiculous razzmatazz surrounding his name (though I bet he’d be pretty miffed with what Waldo de Los Rios did to his 40th Symphony).
For a child prodigy who wrote his first concerto aged four and symphony at seven, the boy wonder undoubtedly done good. But believe me, the hype starts here...
This column was originally published in the Northamptonshire Evening Telegraph on Saturday, 5 January, 1991
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