05/08/25

Assembly George Square Studios (Studio Two), Edinburgh

You’ve heard of Nannerl Mozart, right?

Nope?

Me neither.

Her brother’s pretty well-known though. He’s so famous he’s known by just one name (which is probably a good thing, considering his original moniker was the unwieldy Joannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus Mozart – although he did later change this to Wolfgang Amadeus).

It turns out “Nannerl” (aka Maria Anna Walburga Ignatia; yep, Mama and Papa Mozart really liked long names) was something of a musical prodigy too, who toured with “Wolfie” when they were both children. This elegant production, written and performed by Sylvia Milo (in rotation with Daniela Galli), finally brings Nannerl out of the shadows and into the light.

It’s no great shock to discover that the reason we don’t know about her is because of her gender. Europe’s aristocracy were happy to watch a little girl perform, less so a grown woman. Here, with great artistry and precision, Milo shows us the toll this must have taken on the talented musician and composer, forced to watch her younger sibling garnering credit and acclaim while her own similar ambitions were thwarted, subsumed into marriage and motherhood.

Sadly, none of Nannerl’s original pieces survive, but Milo’s poised performance is beautifully complemented by Phyllis Chen and Nathan Davis’s compositions, which evoke the era perfectly, allowing us to believe in Nannerl’s genius.

The Other Mozart, directed by Isaac Byrne, is a work of art: a sophisticated blend of monologue, music and movement – and it’s a visual marvel too. The set is the costume; the costume is the set: a giant dress, designed by Magdalena Dąbrowska, fills the entire stage, waiting, predator-like, to trap Nannerl in its fathomless drapes. The image is intensified by Miodrag Guberinic’s cage-like panier, constructed – I think – from music stands, constricting Nannerl but also amplifying her stature, so that she rises monumentally, towering over us, defying us to forget her name.

An object lesson in reclaiming women’s history, The Other Mozart is exquisitely conceived and realised, a magnum opus in its own right.

5 stars

Susan Singfield