The Wicked Scene in Amadeus When Mozart Mocked the Talents of His Rival Antonio Salieri: How Much Does the Film Square with Reality?

Pity the ghost of Anto­nio Salieri, “one of history’s all-time losers — a bystander run over by a Mack truck of mali­cious gos­sip,” writes Alex Ross at The New York­er. The rumors began even before his death. “In 1825, a sto­ry that he had poi­soned Mozart went around Vien­na. In 1830, Alexan­der Pushkin used that rumor as the basis for his play ‘Mozart and Salieri,’ cast­ing the for­mer as the doltish genius and the lat­ter as a jeal­ous schemer.” The sto­ries became fur­ther embell­ished in an opera by Niko­lai Rim­sky-Kor­sakov, then again in 1979 by British play­wright Peter Shaf­fer, whose Amadeus, “a sophis­ti­cat­ed vari­a­tion on Pushkin’s con­cept, …became a main­stay of the mod­ern stage.”

In 1984, these fic­tions became the basis of Miloš Forman’s Amadeus, writ­ten by Shaf­fer for the screen. The film fur­ther solid­i­fies Salieri’s vil­lainy in F. Mur­ray Abraham’s Oscar-win­ning per­for­mance of his envy and despair. Like all great cin­e­mat­ic vil­lains, Salieri is shown to have good rea­son for his hatred of the hero, played as a man­ic tod­dler by Thomas Hulce, who was nom­i­nat­ed for the same best-actor award Abra­ham won. In their first meet­ing (above), Mozart humil­i­ates Salieri in the pres­ence of the Emper­or, insult­ing him sev­er­al times and show­ing that Salieri’s years of toil and devo­tion are worth lit­tle more than what the Ger­man prodi­gy mas­tered as a small child, and could improve upon immea­sur­ably with hard­ly any effort at all.

Is there truth to this scene? In gen­er­al, the his­to­ry of Amadeus is “laugh­ably wrong,” Alex von Tun­zel­mann writes at The Guardian, though maybe the joke’s on us if we believe it. As For­man’s film takes pains to show, what we see on screen is not an objec­tive point of view, but that of an aged, embit­tered, insane man remem­ber­ing his past with regret. Salieri is a most unre­li­able nar­ra­tor, and For­man an unre­li­able sto­ry­teller. The sup­posed “Wel­come March” com­posed for Mozart in the scene above is not a Salieri com­po­si­tion at all, but a sim­pli­fi­ca­tion of the aria from Mozart’s The Mar­riage of Figaro, which Hulce-as-Mozart then trans­forms into the actu­al tune of the aria.

Oth­er inac­cu­ra­cies abound. The Salieri of his­to­ry was not “a sex­u­al­ly frus­trat­ed, dried-up old bach­e­lor,” von Tun­zel­mann notes. “He had eight chil­dren by his wife, and is reput­ed have had at least one mis­tress.” He was also more col­league and friend­ly com­peti­tor than ene­my of the new­ly-arrived Mozart in Vien­na. The two even com­posed a piece togeth­er for singer Nan­cy Storace, who played the first Susan­na in The Mar­riage of Figaro. While Mozart wrote to his father of a shad­owy cabal arrayed against him at court, there is no evi­dence of a plot, and Mozart could be, by all accounts, just as puerile and obnox­ious as his por­tray­al in the film.

Mozart did die a pau­per from a mys­te­ri­ous ill­ness at 34. (He did not dic­tate the final pas­sages of his Requiem to Salieri). And Salieri did lat­er con­fess to poi­son­ing Mozart while he was aged and in a tem­po­rary state of men­tal ill­ness, then retract­ed the claim when he lat­er recov­ered. (“Let’s be hon­est,” writes von Tun­zel­mann, “nobody seri­ous­ly thinks Salieri mur­dered Mozart.”) These are the barest his­tor­i­cal facts upon which Amadeus’s infa­mous rival­ry rests. The Salieri of the film is a fic­tion­al con­struc­tion, cre­at­ed, as actor Simon Cal­low said of Shaf­fer­’s play, to serve “a vast med­i­ta­tion on the rela­tion­ship between genius and tal­ent.”

In For­man’s film, the theme becomes the rela­tion­ship between genius and medi­oc­rity. But to call Salieri a medi­oc­rity — or the “patron saint of medi­oc­ri­ties,” as Shaf­fer does in his play — “sets the bar for medi­oc­rity too high,” Ross argues. “His music is worth hear­ing. Mozart was a greater com­pos­er, but not immea­sur­ably greater.” Fur­ther­more, “amid the pro­ces­sion of mega­lo­ma­ni­acs, mis­an­thropes, and bas­ket cas­es who make up the clas­si­cal pan­theon, [Salieri] seems to have been one of the more lik­able fel­lows.”

Learn more about Salier­i’s life and work in Ross’s New York­er pro­file, and hear “4 Operas by Anto­nio Salieri You Should Lis­ten To” at Opera Wire.

Relat­ed Con­tent: 

Mozart’s Diary Where He Com­posed His Final Mas­ter­pieces Is Now Dig­i­tized and Avail­able Online

The Let­ters of Mozart’s Sis­ter Maria Anna Get Trans­formed into Music

Maria Anna Mozart Was a Musi­cal Prodi­gy Like Her Broth­er Wolf­gang, So Why Did She Get Erased from His­to­ry?

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Watch Anthony Bourdain’s First Food-and-Travel Series A Cook’s Tour Free Online (2002–03)

At the time of his death in 2018, Antho­ny Bour­dain was quite pos­si­bly the most famous cook in the world. With­out ques­tion he held the title of the most famous cook-trav­el­er, a sta­tus rest­ing pri­mar­i­ly on No Reser­va­tions and Parts Unknown, the tele­vi­sion shows he host­ed on the Trav­el Chanel and CNN, respec­tive­ly. But it all began with A Cook’s Tour, which the Food Net­work orig­i­nal­ly broad­cast in 2002 and 2003. That series, Bour­dain’s very first, took him from Japan to Moroc­co to Mex­i­co to Aus­tralia to Thai­land — and through many points in between — in search of the world’s most stim­u­lat­ing eat­ing expe­ri­ences.

Now A Cook’s Tour has come avail­able free to watch on Youtube, thanks to the stream­ing chan­nel GoTrav­el­er (who also offer the show through their own ser­vice).

A Por­tuguese slaugh­ter­ing-and-roast­ing par­ty; vod­ka-fueled ice fish­ing in St. Peters­burg; an explo­ration of the Amer­i­can “Bar­be­cue Tri­an­gle” con­sti­tut­ed by Kansas City, Hous­ton, and North Car­oli­na; and a best-faith effort to lose him­self in Chi­ang Mai: if you caught these or oth­er of Bour­dain’s ear­ly inter­na­tion­al culi­nary adven­tures those near­ly twen­ty years ago, you can relive them, and if you missed out, you can enjoy them for the first time.

Dur­ing the launch phase of his rise to fame (after decades of restau­rant work and years of writ­ing, an effort that first pro­duced a cou­ple of food-themed mur­der-mys­tery nov­els), Bour­dain man­aged to tap into a new wave of gas­tro­nom­ic inter­est then ris­ing in Amer­i­ca. He did so with a street-smart sense of humor that appealed even to view­ers with no par­tic­u­lar invest­ment in the world of cook­ing and din­ing, as long as they had an inter­est in the world itself. With A Cook’s Tour, he took food tele­vi­sion out of the kitchen — way out of the kitchen — and over the eigh­teen years since its con­clu­sion, the series’ influ­ence has become so per­va­sive as almost to be invis­i­ble. Antho­ny Bour­dain may be gone, but parts of his per­son­al­i­ty live on in every high-pro­file trav­el­er out there cook­ing, eat­ing, and get­ting lost today.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch Antho­ny Bourdain’s Free Show Raw Craft, Where He Vis­its Crafts­men Mak­ing Gui­tars, Tat­toos, Motor­cy­cles & More (RIP)

Antho­ny Bour­dain Talks About the Big Break That Changed His Life — at Age 44

Life Lessons from Antho­ny Bour­dain: How He Devel­oped His Iron Pro­fes­sion­al­ism, Achieved Cre­ative Free­dom & Learned from Fail­ure

Al Jazeera Trav­el Show Explores World Cities Through Their Street Food

Watch 26 Free Episodes of Jacques Pépin’s TV Show, More Fast Food My Way

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities, the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

How Caffeine Fueled the Enlightenment, Industrial Revolution & the Modern World: An Introduction by Michael Pollan

Accord­ing to the cur­rent research, caf­feine, “con­tributes much more to your health than it takes away.” These words come from a thinker no less vig­i­lant about the state of food-and-drink sci­ence than Michael Pol­lan, and per­haps they’re all you feel you need to know on the sub­ject. In fact, you’re prob­a­bly tak­ing in some form of caf­feine even while read­ing this now. I know I’m doing so while writ­ing it, and this, accord­ing to the Pol­lan-star­ring Wired video above, gives us some­thing in com­mon with the cen­tral fig­ures of the Enlight­en­ment. “Isaac New­ton was a big cof­fee fan,” says Pol­lan, and Voltaire “appar­ent­ly had 72 cups a day. I don’t know quite how you do that.”

The Enlight­en­ment, the Age of Rea­son, and the Indus­tri­al Rev­o­lu­tion also owe much to the intel­lec­tu­al and com­mer­cial churn of the cof­fee house, an insti­tu­tion that emerged in 17th-cen­tu­ry Lon­don. “There were cof­fee hous­es ded­i­cat­ed to lit­er­a­ture, and writ­ers and poets would con­gre­gate there,” says Pol­lan.

“There was a cof­fee house ded­i­cat­ed to sell­ing stock, and that turned into the Lon­don Stock Exchange even­tu­al­ly. There was anoth­er one ded­i­cat­ed to sci­ence, tied to the Roy­al Insti­tu­tion, where great sci­en­tists of the peri­od would get togeth­er.” Con­sumed in ded­i­cat­ed hous­es or else­where, the “new, sober, more civ­il drink was chang­ing the way peo­ple thought and the way they worked.”

The rel­e­vant con­trast is with alco­hol, once an ele­ment of prac­ti­cal­ly all bev­er­ages in Europe. Before caf­feine got there, “peo­ple were drunk or buzzed most of the day. Peo­ple would have alco­hol with break­fast” — chil­dren includ­ed, since it was still health­i­er than con­t­a­m­i­nat­ed water. This cus­tom hard­ly encour­aged clear, lin­ear thought; Diderot, Pol­lan tells us, wrote the Ency­clopédie while drink­ing cof­fee, but imag­ine the result, if any, had he been drink­ing wine. More than a quar­ter-mil­len­ni­um lat­er, we have sol­id evi­dence that caf­feine “does improve focus and mem­o­ry, and the abil­i­ty to learn,” if at the cost of a decent night’s sleep. Not that this seems to have both­ered cof­fee-pound­ing Enlight­en­ment thinkers: what’s a lit­tle toss­ing and turn­ing, after all, when there’s a world­view to be rev­o­lu­tion­ized?

Pol­lan elab­o­rates on the role cof­fee plays in our lives in his new book, This Is Your Mind on Plants. And sep­a­rate­ly see his short audio book, Caf­feine: How Caf­feine Cre­at­ed the Mod­ern World.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Curi­ous Sto­ry of London’s First Cof­fee­hous­es (1650–1675)

Philoso­phers Drink­ing Cof­fee: The Exces­sive Habits of Kant, Voltaire & Kierkegaard

Hon­oré de Balzac Writes About “The Plea­sures and Pains of Cof­fee,” and His Epic Cof­fee Addic­tion

“The Virtues of Cof­fee” Explained in 1690 Ad: The Cure for Lethar­gy, Scurvy, Drop­sy, Gout & More

The Hertel­la Cof­fee Machine Mount­ed on a Volk­swa­gen Dash­board (1959): The Most Euro­pean Car Acces­so­ry Ever Made

Michael Pol­lan Explains How Cook­ing Can Change Your Life; Rec­om­mends Cook­ing Books, Videos & Recipes

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities, the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Philosophy vs. Improv: A New Podcast from The Partially Examined Life and Chicago Improv Studio

The Par­tial­ly Exam­ined Life Phi­los­o­phy Pod­cast has been shar­ing read­ing-group dis­cus­sions on clas­sic phi­los­o­phy texts for well over a decade, with over 40 mil­lion down­loads to date.

How­ev­er, inter­ac­tive con­ver­sa­tions about texts you prob­a­bly haven’t read can be dif­fi­cult to fol­low no mat­ter how much we try to make them acces­si­ble, and a decade of his­to­ry means that many names that might be dropped that those new­ly check­ing in may or may not be famil­iar with.

I’m one of the hosts of that pod­cast, and while I’m very hap­py with the for­mat and thrilled to have reached so many peo­ple with it, I also appre­ci­ate the dynam­ic of a one-on-one tutor­ing inter­change, and I stand firm­ly behind one of the orig­i­nal rules of The Par­tial­ly Exam­ined Life: No name-drop­ping.

As we read more com­pli­cat­ed texts, our inter­est becomes fig­ur­ing out what the philoso­pher meant, and only sec­on­dar­i­ly whether that mean­ing actu­al­ly relates to some­thing in peo­ple’s actu­al lives. Yes, we are crit­i­cal (some say too crit­i­cal) of the sub­ject-mat­ter, but we’re also big fans; we could bask in the lit­er­ary glow of Hegel or Pla­to or Simone de Beau­voir or Han­nah Arendt all day, and have often done so.

My newest pod­cast, Phi­los­o­phy vs. Improv, is rec­i­p­ro­cal tutor­ing real­ized as com­e­dy (or at least per­for­mance art?). As some­one who stud­ied phi­los­o­phy for many years in school and has then been host­ing The Par­tial­ly Exam­ined Life for so long, I’m in a good posi­tion to come up with par­tic­u­lar philo­soph­i­cal points worth teach­ing to a new learn­er.

My Phi­los­o­phy vs. Improv co-host is Bill Arnett, founder of the Chica­go Improv Stu­dio, author of The Com­plete Impro­vis­er, and the for­mer train­ing direc­tor at Chicago’s famed iO The­ater. He has appeared repeat­ed­ly on the Hel­lo From the Mag­ic Tav­ern improv com­e­dy pod­cast as a char­ac­ter named Meta­more who leads the show’s hosts (who are all fan­ta­sy char­ac­ters a la Tolkein or Nar­nia) in a table-top role-play­ing game called Offices and Boss­es. This and oth­er shows ignit­ed in me an urge to learn the fun­da­men­tals of improv com­e­dy, and so each Phi­los­o­phy vs. Improv episode, Bill comes up with some trick of the trade to try to teach me.

There are two rules of engage­ment: First, we can’t just state up front what the les­son is. We can ask each oth­er ques­tions, go through exer­cis­es, and oth­er­wise dis­cuss the mate­r­i­al, but the les­son should emerge nat­u­ral­ly. Sec­ond, we don’t take turns in try­ing to teach each oth­er. As he’s mak­ing me act out scenes, I’m try­ing to set up those scenes or have my char­ac­ter react in such a way to exem­pli­fy my philo­soph­i­cal point. As we’re dis­cussing phi­los­o­phy, Bill is relat­ing it to com­pa­ra­ble points about improv. Of course, we’re both inter­est­ed in learn­ing as well as teach­ing, so the “vs.” in the show’s title is not so much com­pe­ti­tion between us as between which les­son ends up more near­ly pro­duc­ing its intend­ed effect in the oth­er per­son.

It is sur­pris­ing how smooth­ly these duel­ing lessons often fit togeth­er, as lessens about ethics in par­tic­u­lar, about the art of liv­ing, are very much rel­e­vant to the impro­vi­sa­tion­al skills of being present, pre­sent­ing your­self, dis­cov­er­ing the real­i­ty of a sit­u­a­tion, and explor­ing truths of char­ac­ter. Fic­tion is often a very effec­tive vehi­cle for address­ing phi­los­o­phy, whether the char­ac­ters them­selves are talk­ing philo­soph­i­cal­ly (even if they’re ani­mals, cave men, or oth­er­wise in a non-typ­i­cal sit­u­a­tion for dis­cus­sion), or per­haps we’re embody­ing some polit­i­cal sit­u­a­tion or thought exper­i­ment that we’re sub­ject­ing to philo­soph­i­cal analy­sis.

Like­wise, back to the days of Pla­to, a dose of irony in dis­cussing phi­los­o­phy can be use­ful, and this for­mat allows us to not just be our­selves on a pod­cast dis­cussing phi­los­o­phy, but at any point to launch into some com­e­dy bit, and in this way show the absur­di­ty of views we’re argu­ing against or just play with the ideas in a man­ner that I think enhances men­tal flex­i­bil­i­ty, which is essen­tial both for impro­vi­sa­tion and for philo­soph­i­cal cre­ativ­i­ty.

Lis­ten to the lat­est episode (#7), enti­tled “Mer­i­toc­ra­cy Now!”

Start lis­ten­ing with Phi­los­o­phy vs. Improv episode 1.

For more infor­ma­tion, see philosophyimprov.com.

Mark Lin­sen­may­er is the host of four pod­casts: Pret­ty Much Pop: A Cul­ture Pod­cast, Naked­ly Exam­ined Music, The Par­tial­ly Exam­ined Life, and Phi­los­o­phy vs. Improv.

360 Degree Virtual Tours of the Hagia Sophia

Last year, when Turk­ish pres­i­dent Recep Tayyip Erdoğan announced that Hagia Sophia would be recon­vert­ed into a mosque, he assured a con­cerned UNESCO that changes to the 1,500-year-old for­mer cathe­dral-turned-mosque would have “no neg­a­tive impact” on its sta­tus as World Her­itage Site. “A state must make sure that no mod­i­fi­ca­tion under­mines the out­stand­ing uni­ver­sal val­ue of a site list­ed on its ter­ri­to­ry,” the world body has said. Claims to the con­trary notwith­stand­ing, the “uni­ver­sal val­ue” of the site does seem to have been under­mined.

Des­ig­nat­ed a muse­um by the sec­u­lar Turk­ish Repub­lic in 1934, the site con­tains hun­dreds of years of his­to­ry for both the Chris­t­ian and Islam­ic worlds, and the shared her­itage between them in the shift­ing mix of peo­ples who con­quered, set­tled, and moved through the city first called Byzan­tium, then Con­stan­tino­ple, then Istan­bul.

“The World Her­itage site was at the cen­tre of both the Chris­t­ian Byzan­tine and Mus­lim Ottoman empires and is today one of Turkey’s most vis­it­ed mon­u­ments,” Reuters not­ed last year.

The mosque is open to the pub­lic for prayers, and any­one can vis­it. What they’ll find — as you can see in this recent tour video — is ugly green car­pet­ing cov­er­ing the floor, and screens, pan­els, and ply­wood obscur­ing the Byzan­tine Chris­t­ian art. (The same thing was done in the small­er Hagia Sophia in the city of Tra­b­zon.) These changes are not only dis­tress­ing for UNESCO, but also for lovers of art and his­to­ry around the world, myself includ­ed, who had hoped to one day see the mil­len­nia-and-a-half of blend­ed reli­gious and aes­thet­ic tra­di­tions for them­selves.

It’s pos­si­ble Turk­ish pol­i­tics will allow Hagia Sophia to return to its sta­tus as a muse­um in the future, restor­ing its “uni­ver­sal val­ue” for world his­to­ry and cul­ture. If not, we can still vis­it the space vir­tu­al­ly — as it was until last year — in the 360 degree video views above, both of which allow you to look around in any direc­tion as they play. You can also swiv­el around a spher­i­cal panoram­ic image at 360 cities.

The BBC video at the top nar­rates some of the sig­nif­i­cant fea­tures of the incred­i­ble build­ing, once the largest church in the world, includ­ing its “col­ored mar­ble from around the Roman Empire” and “10,000 square meters of gold mosa­ic.” Learn much more about Hagia Sophia his­to­ry in the video above from Khan Academy’s exec­u­tive direc­tors (and for­mer deans of art and his­to­ry), Dr. Steven Zuck­er and Dr. Beth Har­ris.

Relat­ed Con­tent:  

An Intro­duc­tion to Hagia Sophia: After 85 Years as a Muse­um, It’s Set to Become a Mosque Again

Hear the Sound of the Hagia Sophia Recre­at­ed in Authen­tic Byzan­tine Chant

Istan­bul Cap­tured in Beau­ti­ful Col­or Images from 1890: The Hagia Sophia, Top­ka­ki Palace’s Impe­r­i­al Gate & More

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Become a Project Manager Without a College Degree with Google’s Project Management Certificate

As we first men­tioned last year, Google has launched a series of Career Cer­tifi­cate pro­grams that allow stu­dents to gain exper­tise in a field, ide­al­ly enough to start work­ing with­out a 4‑year col­lege degree. This ini­tia­tive now includes a Cer­tifi­cate in Project Man­age­ment, which con­sists of six cours­es.

  • Foun­da­tions of Project Man­age­ment
  • Project Ini­ti­a­tion: Start­ing a Suc­cess­ful Project
  • Project Plan­ning: Putting It All Togeth­er
  • Project Exe­cu­tion: Run­ning the Project
  • Agile Project Man­age­ment
  • Cap­stone: Apply­ing Project Man­age­ment in the Real World

Above, a Pro­gram Man­ag­er talks about “her path from drop­ping out of high school and earn­ing a GED, join­ing the mil­i­tary, and work­ing as a coder, to learn­ing about pro­gram man­age­ment and switch­ing into that career track.” An intro­duc­tion to the Project Man­age­ment cer­tifi­cate appears below.

The Project Man­age­ment pro­gram takes about six months to com­plete, and should cost about $250 in total. Stu­dents get charged $39 per month until they com­plete the pro­gram.

You can explore the Project Man­age­ment cer­tifi­cate here. And find oth­er Google career cer­tifi­cates in oth­er fields–e.g. UX Design and Data Ana­lyt­ics–over on this page. All Google career cours­es are host­ed on the Cours­era plat­form.

Note: Open Cul­ture has a part­ner­ship with Cours­era. If read­ers enroll in cer­tain Cours­era cours­es and pro­grams, it helps sup­port Open Cul­ture.

Relat­ed Con­tent 

Google Intro­duces 6‑Month Career Cer­tifi­cates, Threat­en­ing to Dis­rupt High­er Edu­ca­tion with “the Equiv­a­lent of a Four-Year Degree”

Google & Cours­era Launch Career Cer­tifi­cates That Pre­pare Stu­dents for Jobs in 6 Months: Data Ana­lyt­ics, Project Man­age­ment and UX Design

Google’s UX Design Pro­fes­sion­al Cer­tifi­cate: 7 Cours­es Will Help Pre­pare Stu­dents for an Entry-Lev­el Job in 6 Months

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The Birth of Espresso: The Story Behind the Coffee Shots That Fuel Modern Life

Espres­so is nei­ther bean nor roast.

It is a method of pres­sur­ized cof­fee brew­ing that ensures speedy deliv­ery, and it has birthed a whole cul­ture.

Amer­i­cans may be accus­tomed to camp­ing out in cafes with their lap­tops for hours, but Ital­ian cof­fee bars are fast-paced envi­ron­ments where cus­tomers buzz in for a quick pick me up, then right back out, no seat required.

It’s the sort of effi­cien­cy the Father of the Mod­ern Adver­tis­ing Poster, Leonet­to Cap­piel­lo, allud­ed to in his famous 1922 image for the Vic­to­ria Arduino machine (below).

Let 21st-cen­tu­ry cof­fee afi­ciona­dos cul­ti­vate their Zen­like patience with slow pourovers. A hun­dred years ago, the goal was a qual­i­ty prod­uct that the suc­cess­ful busi­nessper­son could enjoy with­out break­ing stride.

As cof­fee expert James Hoff­mann, author of The World Atlas of Cof­fee points out in the above video, the Steam Age was on the way out, but Cappiello’s image is “absolute­ly lever­ag­ing the idea that steam equals speed.”

That had been the goal since 1884, when inven­tor Ange­lo Morion­do patent­ed the first espres­so machine (see below).

The bulk brew­er caused a stir at the Turin Gen­er­al Expo­si­tion. Speed wise, it was a great improve­ment over the old method, in which indi­vid­ual cups were brewed in the Turk­ish style, requir­ing five min­utes per order.

This “new steam machin­ery for the eco­nom­ic and instan­ta­neous con­fec­tion of cof­fee bev­er­age” fea­tured a gas or wood burn­er at the bot­tom of an upright boil­er, and two sight glass­es that the oper­a­tor could mon­i­tor to get a feel for when to open the var­i­ous taps, to yield a large quan­ti­ty of fil­tered cof­fee. It was fast, but demand­ed some skill on the part of its human oper­a­tor.

As Jim­my Stamp explains in a Smith­son­ian arti­cle on the his­to­ry of the espres­so machine, there were  also a few bugs to work out.

Ear­ly machines’ hand-oper­at­ed pres­sure valves posed a risk to work­ers, and the cof­fee itself had a burnt taste.

Milanese café own­er Achille Gag­gia cracked the code after WWII, with a small, steam­less lever-dri­ven machine that upped the pres­sure to pro­duce the con­cen­trat­ed brew that is what we now think of as espres­so.

Stamp describes how Gaggia’s machine also stan­dard­ized the size of the espres­so, giv­ing rise to some now-famil­iar cof­fee­house vocab­u­lary:

The cylin­der on lever groups could only hold an ounce of water, lim­it­ing the vol­ume that could be used to pre­pare an espres­so. With the lever machines also came some some new jar­gon: baris­tas oper­at­ing Gaggia’s spring-loaded levers coined the term “pulling a shot” of espres­so. But per­haps most impor­tant­ly, with the inven­tion of the high-pres­sure lever machine came the dis­cov­ery of cre­ma – the foam float­ing over the cof­fee liq­uid that is the defin­ing char­ac­ter­is­tic of a qual­i­ty espres­so. A his­tor­i­cal anec­dote claims that ear­ly con­sumers were dubi­ous of this “scum” float­ing over their cof­fee until Gag­gia began refer­ring to it as “caffe creme,“ sug­gest­ing that the cof­fee was of such qual­i­ty that it pro­duced its own creme.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Cof­fee Entre­pre­neur Rena­to Bialet­ti Gets Buried in the Espres­so Mak­er He Made Famous

The Life & Death of an Espres­so Shot in Super Slow Motion

The Bialet­ti Moka Express: The His­to­ry of Italy’s Icon­ic Cof­fee Mak­er, and How to Use It the Right Way

Every­thing You Ever Want­ed to Know about the Bialet­ti Moka Express: A Deep Dive Into Italy’s Most Pop­u­lar Cof­fee Mak­er

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

An Interactive Map of 530 Female Composers from Across the Globe

Self-pro­claimed tra­di­tion­al­ists love to talk about how allow­ing women in the work­force pre­cip­i­tat­ed social decline. This is a delu­sion. “Women have always worked,” as Amer­i­can labor his­to­ri­an Alice Kessler-Har­ris argued in her book of the same name. “In prein­dus­tri­al soci­eties,” she writes, “near­ly every­body worked” in coop­er­a­tive endeav­ors, “and almost nobody worked for wages.” And in indus­tri­al soci­eties, women have always worked, and they were often the pri­ma­ry earn­ers in their fam­i­lies. But since their sto­ries do not fit a tra­di­tion­al nar­ra­tive, they’ve been ignored. 

Mov­ing goal­posts and nar­row def­i­n­i­tions of what counts as “work” have mar­gin­al­ized women’s con­tri­bu­tions in hun­dreds of fields, includ­ing music. But women have always writ­ten music, whether or not they’ve been com­pen­sat­ed or rec­og­nized as pro­fes­sion­al com­posers.

In some cas­es, their careers were cut short before they could begin. Such was the fate of Mozart’s sis­ter, Maria Anna, who was also a child prodi­gy, trav­el­ing Europe with her broth­er and daz­zling the aris­toc­ra­cy in the 1700s. Her accom­plish­ments “were quick­ly for­got­ten,” writes Ashifa Kas­sam at The Guardian, “after she was forced to halt her career when she came of age.”

Maria Anna Mozart is one of hun­dreds of women com­posers you’ll find in the inter­ac­tive map cre­at­ed by Saki­ra Ven­tu­ra, a music teacher from Valen­cia, Spain, who has col­lect­ed 530 com­posers, placed them geo­graph­i­cal­ly on the map, and includ­ed links to Wikipedia pages, web­sites, and Spo­ti­fy. The map is in Span­ish, as are all of the short biogra­phies in each composer’s win­dow, but Ven­tu­ra links to their Eng­lish-lan­guage Wikipedia pages, mak­ing this an excel­lent resource for Eng­lish speak­ers as well, and a much-need­ed one, Ven­tu­ra found out when she began her research.

When Mozart’s sis­ter was writ­ing music, “It was tak­en for grant­ed that a work com­posed by a woman would­n’t be of the same qual­i­ty as that com­posed by a man,” Ven­tu­ra says. Not much has changed. When crit­ics have asked why she does­n’t include men on her map, “I have to explain to them that if they want to find out about male com­posers, they can open any book on music his­to­ry, go to any con­cert or tune into any radio sta­tion. But if I’m putting togeth­er a map of female com­posers, it is because these women don’t appear any­where else.” Vis­it the inter­ac­tive map, Creado­ras de la His­to­ria Músi­ca, here.

via The Guardian

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Maria Anna Mozart Was a Musi­cal Prodi­gy Like Her Broth­er Wolf­gang, So Why Did She Get Erased from His­to­ry?

1200 Years of Women Com­posers: A Free 78-Hour Music Playlist That Takes You From Medieval Times to Now

Cel­e­brat­ing Women Com­posers: A New BBC Dig­i­tal Archive Takes You from Hilde­gard of Bin­gen (1098) to Nadia Boulanger (1979)

Meet Four Women Who Pio­neered Elec­tron­ic Music: Daphne Oram, Lau­rie Spiegel, Éliane Radigue & Pauline Oliv­eros

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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