# A Dictionary of Music and Musicians/Wagner, Richard

​WAGNER, Wilhelm Richard, born May 22, 1813, at Leipzig; died Feb. 13, 1883, at Venice; interred Feb. 18, 1883, at Bayreuth.
The materials of the following article have been thus arranged: I. Biographical, personal. II. Literary. III. Musical. IV. Chronological Lists.
I. Wagner's ancestors were natives of Saxony fairly well educated and fairly well to do. The grandfather, Gottlob Friedrich Wagner, who died in 1795, was Accisassistent, and later on Kurfürstlich Sächsischer Generalaccisemnehmer (Receiver-general of excise), in plain words Thorschreiber (clerk at the town-gates of Leipzig); he married in 1769 Johanna Sophia Eichel daughter of Gottlob Friedrich Eichel, Schulhalter (keeper of a school). Of their children, two sons and a daughter, the eldest son, Carl Friedrich Wilhelm Wagner, born 1770 at Leipzig was the father of the poet-composer. He is described as Actuarius bei den Stadtgerichten (clerk to the city police-courts); a ready linguist; whose command of French stood him in good stead during the occupation of Leipzig, when Davoust made him chief of police; fond of poetry, and of theatricals, in which he occasionally took an active part—as, for instance, in the private performance of Goethe's 'Die Mitschuldigen,' given by Leipzig dilettanti in Thomé's house, near the famous Auerbach's Keller, facing the Marktplatz. He married in 1798 Johanna Rosina Bertz (born at Weissenfels, died Feb 1848), by whom between 1799 and 1811 [App. p.814 "1813"] he had nine children.
* Albert Wagner, 1709–1874, studied medicine at the University of Leipzig; actor and singer at Würzburg and Dresden; finally stage manager at Berlin; father of Johanna Jachmann-Wagner the wellknown singer.
* Carl Gustav Wagner, 1801, died early.
* Johanna Rosalie Wagner, distinguished actress (Frau Dr. Gotthard Oswald Marbach), 1803–1837.
* Carl Julius Wagner, 1804, became a goldsmith, died at Dresden.
* Luise Constanze Wagner (Frau Friedrich Brockhaus), 1805–1870.
* Clara Wilhelmine Wagner (Frau Wolfram), a singer, 1807–1875.
* Maria Theresia Wagner 1809, died 1814.
* Wilhelmine Ottilie Wagner (Frau Professor Hermann Brockhausr), 1811–1883.
* Wilhelm Richard Wagner, May 22, 1813.
The last of these dates is inscribed on a white marble slab between the first and second stories of a quaint old house, Der weisse und rothe Löwe, in the Brühl at Leipzig, now No. 88, where the poet-composer was born. After the battle of Leipzig, October 16, 18, and 19, 1813, an epidemic fever, attributed to the carnage, fell upon the town, and just five months after Richard's birth, on November 22, the 'Herr Actuarius' died of it. His widow was left in sad straits. The eldest son was but 14; she had no private means, and her pension was small. In 1815 she became the wife of Ludwig Geyer (born January 21, 1780, at Eisleben), actor, playwright, and amateur portrait-painter. He had formerly been a member of 'Seconda's troupe,' which used to give theatrical performances alternately at Dresden and Leipzig. At the time of the marriage he was a member of the Königl.-Sächs-Hoftheater, and accordingly the family removed to Dresden. Richard Wagner frequently spoke of him with affectionate reverence, treasured his portrait by the side of that of his mother, and was delighted at the surprise performance of one of Geyer's little plays, 'Der Bethlehemitische Kindermord,' which waa privately got up at Bayreuth in celebration of his 60th birthday, 1873. 'My schoolbooks at the Dresden Kreuzschule,' Wagner said to the writer, 'were marked Richard Geyer, and I was entered under that name.'
Geyer wanted to make a painter of me, but I was very unhandy at drawing; I had learnt to play 'Ueb' immer Treu und Redlichkeit' and the 'Jungfernkranz' (Freyschütz) which was then quite new. The day before his death (30th Sept., 1821) I had to play these to him in an adjoining room, and I heard him faintly saying to my mother, 'Do you think he might have a gift for music?'
In Dec. 1822 (æt. 9) Richard had begun to attend the Kreuzschule, a 'classical school.' He did well there, and became the favourite of Herr Sillig, the professor of Greek, to whose delight (set. 13) he translated the first twelve books of the Odyssey out of school hours. His progress in Latin ​seems to have been comparatively slow, still his gifts attracted attention. I was considered good in litteris.' At German verses he was unusually quick. The boys were asked to write commemorative verses on the death of a schoolfellow, and after the removal of much bombast Richard's were printed (æt. 11). 'I was now bent upon becoming a poet; I sketched tragedies in Greek form in imitation of Apel's 'Polyeidos,' 'Die Aetolier,' etc. I attempted a metrical translation of Romeo's monologue, by way of learning English, etc.' German versions of Shakespeare were then, as now, much read. The boy's fancy was excited, and he secretly began a grand tragedy (æt. 14). It was made up of Hamlet and Lear, forty-two men died in the course of it, and some of them had to return as ghosts so as to keep the fifth act going. Weber's music also took hold of him. He knew the airs from Der Freyschütz by heart, and played the overture 'with atrocious fingering.'—'When Weber passed our house on his way to the theatre, I used to watch him with something akin to religious awe.'
It appears that Weber now and then stepped in to have a chat with the delicate-featured and intelligent Frau Geyer. 'Her sweet ways and lively disposition had a special charm for artists.' But the pleasant life at Dresden was not to last long. Geyer's salary had been a small one, and soon after his decease pecuniary troubles arose. Three of the grown-up children took to the theatre, and when the elder sister Rosalie got a good engagement as 'erste Liebhaberin' at Leipzig, the mother followed with the younger members of the family. Richard attended the Kreuzschule till the autumn of 1827, and entered the Nicolaischule at Leipzig early in the following year (æt. 15). The change proved unfortunate. He had sat in 'Secunda' at Dresden, and was now put back to 'Tertia'; his feelings were hurt, and he came to dislike the school and the masters. 'I grew negligent, and scamped the work; nothing interested me except my big tragedy.' At the Gewandhaus Concerts he first heard Beethoven's symphonies, and the impression upon him 'was overwhelming.' Music such as that to Egmont appeared to be the very thing needful for the tragedy. He found a copy of Logier's 'Thorough-bass' at a circulating library, and studied it assiduously; but somehow the 'System' could not be turned to account. At length a master was engaged, Gottlieb Müller, subsequently organist at Altenburg; Richard composed a quartet, a sonata, and an aria, under his guidance; but it does not appear how far Müller was really responsible for these pieces. The lessons did not last long. Müller thought his pupil wilful and eccentric, and in return was accounted a stupid pedant. The ferment in Richard's mind now took a literary direction. The writings of E. T. A. Hoffmann engrossed his attention, and it is curious to note that so early as in his 16th year he became acquainted with some of the subjects which he treated later on. Thus, Hoffmann's 'Serapions Brüder,' in vol. ii., contains a story about the legendary contest of 'Meistersinger' (Hoffman's misnomer for 'Minnesinger') at Wartburg (2nd Act of Tannhäuser); and sundry germs of Wagner's 'Meistersinger' are to be found in Hoffmann's 'Meister Martin der Küfer von Nürnberg.'—Ludwig Tieck's narrative poem 'Tannhõuser' was read at the same time.—A performance of Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony led to an attempt at a musical pastoral, the dramatic aspect of which was suggested by Goethe's 'Laune des Verliebten.'—In 1829–30 Richard attended the 'Thomasschule' with results little more satisfactory than at the 'Nicolai.' Practically his philological studies went no further; 'I chose to write overtures for grand orchestra, and to bluster about politics with young litterati like Heinrich Laube.' An overture (in B♭, 6-8) was performed under H. Dorn at the theatre between the acts of a play (1830, æt. 17). 'This was the culminating point of my absurdities. The public was fairly puzzled by the persistence of the drum-player, who had to give a tap fortissimo every four bars from beginning to end; people grew impatient, and finally thought the thing a joke.'
When he matriculated at the University of Leipzig (1830), Wagner had the good luck to find a proper master, Theodor Weinlig, Cantor at the Thomasschule, an admirable musician and a kindly intelligent man, who at once gained his pupil's confidence and led him in the right direction. Wagner felt deeply indebted to Weinlig, and held his memory in great esteem. In 1877 he spoke at length about the lessons:—
Weinlig had no special method, but he was clear-headed and practical. Indeed you cannot teach composition, you may show how music gradually came to be what it is, and thus guide a young man's judgment, but this is historical criticism, and cannot directly result in practice. All you can do is, to point to some working example, some particular piece, set a task in that direction, and correct the pupil's work. This is what Weinlig did with me. He chose a piece, generally something of Mozart's, drew attention to its construction, relative length and balance of sections, principal modulations, number and quality of themes, and general character of the movement. Then he set the task:—you shall write about so many bars, divide into so many sections with modulations to correspond so and so, the themes shall be so many, and of such and such a character. Similarly he would set contrapuntal exercises, canons, fugues—he analysed an example minutely and then gave simple directions how I was to go to work. But the true lesson consisted in his patient and careful inspection of what had been written. With infinite kindness he would put his finger on some defective bit and explain the why and wherefore of the alterations he thought desirable. I readily saw what he was aiming at, and soon managed to please him. He dismissed me, saying, you have learnt to stand on your own legs. My experience of young musicians these forty years has led me to think that music should be taught all round on such a simple plan. With singing, playing, composing, take it at whatever stage you like, there is nothing so good as a proper example, and careful correction of the pupil's attempts to follow that example. I made this the basis of my plan for the reorganisation of the Music-school at Munich, etc.
The course with Weinlig lasted barely six ​months. A Sonata in 4 movements B♭, op. 1, and a Polonaise for 4 hands in D, op. 2, were printed at Breitkopf & Härtel's—straightforward music, solid schoolwork, without a trace of Wagner. A Fantasia in F♯ minor, where Weinlig's controlling hand is less visible, remains in MS.
Whilst this musical work was going on, philology and æesthetics, for which his name was set down at the University, were neglected. He plunged into the gulf of German students' dissipations (curious details are given in the privately printed 'Lebenserinnerungen'), but soon felt disgusted, and worked all the more steadily at music. In the course of 1830 he made a pianoforte transcription of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, which was offered to Messrs. Schott in a letter dated Oct. 6. In 1831, feeling sure of his competency to do such work, he addressed a letter in very modest terms to the Bureau de Musique (Peters) offering his services as 'corrector for the press and arranger.' Dorn (in a contribution to Schumann's 'Neue Zeitschrift,' 1838, No. 7) gives a pleasant account of his enthusiasm for Beethoven in those early days. 'I doubt whether there ever was a young musician who knew Beethoven's works more thoroughly than Wagner in his 18th year. The master's overtures and larger instrumental compositions he had copied for himself in score. He went to sleep with the quartets, he sang the songs and whistled the concertos (for his pianoforte-playing was never of the best); in short he was possessed with a furor teutonicus, which, added to a good education and a rare mental activity, promised to bring forth rich fruit.' A 'Concert-overture mit Fuge' in C (MS.) was written in 1831; and another MS. Overture in D minor (Sept. 26, amended Nov. 4) was performed Dec. 25, 1831.
In 1832 (æt. 19) he wrote a Symphony in 4 movements (C major). 'Beethoven,' he says of it, 'and particular sections of Mozart's C major Symphony were my models, and in spite of sundry aberrations, I strove for clearness and power.' In the summer of this year, he took the scores of the Symphony and the Overture in C to the 'Music-town,' Vienna—probably with a view to some small post. He found Herold's 'Zampa' and Strauss's 'Potpourris' from 'Zampa' rampant there, and beat a hasty retreat. On the way home he stopped at Prague, and made the acquaintance of Dionys Weber, director of the Conservatorium, whose pupils rehearsed the Symphony. The score was then submitted to the Directors of the Gewandhaus Concerts at Leipzig. The managing director, Hofrath Rochlitz, editor of the 'Allgemeine Musicalische Zeitung,' an authority in musical matters, invited the composer to call. 'When I presented myself to him, the stately old gentleman raised his spectacles, saying, "You are a young man indeed! I expected an older and experienced composer." He proposed a trial performance at the meetings of a junior institution, the "Euterpe," and a fortnight afterwards (Jan. 10, 1833) my Symphony figured in the programme of a Gewandhaus Concert.' The sequel of the story of the work is as follows. In 1834–35, Wagner being on a visit to Leipzig, presented the score to Mendelssohn, who was then conducting the Gewandhaus Concerts; or rather, he forced it upon him in the hope of getting a critical opinion, and perhaps another performance. Mendelssohn, though repeatedly meeting Wagner later on, never mentioned the score, and Wagner did not care to ask him about it. After Mendelssohn's decease the MS. appears to have been lost, and inquiries proved fruitless. In 1872 an old trunk was discovered at Dresden which had been left by Wagner during the disturbances of 1849. It contained musical odds and ends, together with a set of orchestral parts almost complete, which proved to be those of the missing Symphony in the handwriting of a Prague copyist of 1832. A new score was compiled from these parts, and after nearly half a century a private performance of the work was given by the orchestra of the Liceo Marcello at Venice on Christmas Eve 1882, Wagner conducting. Apart from its biographical interest the symphony has few claims to attention. In 1883, 'for the benefit of the curious,' Wagner quoted a fragment of the Andante, and then dismissed the whole as 'an old-fashioned ouvrage de jeunesse.'
Whilst at Prague (summer of 1832) he wrote his first libretto for an opera, 'Die Hochzeit.' 'It was of tragic import. An infuriated lover climbs to the window of the bedroom of his beloved, who is his friend's bride. She is awaiting the arrival of the bridegroom. The bride wrestles with the madman, and precipitates him into the courtyard below. At the funeral rites the bride, with a wild cry, falls dead over the corpse.' On his return to Leipzig he began writing the music. There was a grand septet, which pleased Weinlig; but Wagner's sister Rosalie disapproved of the story, and the verses were destroyed. An autograph presentation copy to the 'Würzburger Musik-verein' consisting of the introduction, chorus and septet (not sextet), 36 pages, is extant.
With the year 1833 (æt. 20) begins Wagner's career as a professional musician. The elder brother Albert, who had a high tenor voice, was engaged at the theatre of Würzburg as actor, singer, and stage-manager. Richard paid him a visit in the summer, and was glad to take the place of chorus-master with a pittance of ten florins per month. Albert's experience of theatrical matters proved useful; the Musikverein performed several of Richard's compositions; his duties at the theatre were light, and he had ample leisure to write the words and music to an opera in 3 acts, 'Die Feen.' The plot of this opera is constructed on the lines ofGozzi's 'La donna ​serpente, Fiaba teatrale in tre atti,' with a characteristic change in the dénouement. In Gozzi's play a fairy is ready to forgo her immortality for a mortal lover, but she can do so only under certain conditions. The lover shall not disown her, no matter how unworthy she may happen to appear. The fairy is turned into a snake, which the lover courageously kisses. Wagner alters this: the fairy is not changed into a snake, but into a stone, and she is disenchanted by the power of music. 'Beethoven, Weber, and Marschner were my models. The ensemble pieces contained a good deal that seemed satisfactory, and the finale of the second act especially promised to be effective.' Excerpts were tried at Würzburg in 1834. On his return to Leipzig Wagner offered the opera to Ringelhardt, the director of the theatre, who accepted but never performed it. The autograph score is now in the possession of the King of Bavaria.
In the spring of 1834 Wilhelmine Schroeder-Devrient appeared at Leipzig. Her performances both as actress and as singer gave a powerful impulse to Wagner's talents. Her rare gifts appear to have suggested to him that intimate union of music with the drama which he afterwards achieved. During six important years (1843–48 and 49), when she was engaged as principal singer and he as Kapellmeister at Dresden, he was in almost daily communication with her. As late as 1872 he stated that her example had constantly been before him: 'whenever I conceived a character I saw her.' In 1834 she sang the part of Komeo in Bellini's 'Montecchi e Capuletti.' The young enthusiast for Beethoven perceived the weakness of Bellini's music clearly enough, yet the impression Mme. Devrient made upon him was powerful and artistic. The Leipzig theatre next brought out Auber's 'La Muette de Portici' (Masaniello). To his astonishment Wagner found that the striking scenes and rapid action of this opera proved effective and entertaining from beginning to end, even without the aid of a great artist like Mme. Devrient. This set him thinking. He was ambitious, and longed for an immediate and palpable success;—could he not take hints from Bellini and Auber, and endeavour to combine the merits of their work? Heroic music in Beethoven's manner was the true ideal; but it seemed doubtful whether anything approaching it could be attained in connection with the stage.—The cases before him showed that effective music can certainly be produced on different lines and on a lower level; the desiderata, as far as he then saw them, were, to contrive a play with rapid and animated action; to compose music that would not be difficult to sing and would be likely to catch the ear of the public. His sole attempt in such a direction—'Das Liebesverbot,' an opera in two acts after Shakespeare's 'Measure for Measure' (the part of Isabella intended for Mme. Devrient)—has not had a fair chance before the footlights. He sketched the libretto during the summer holidays, and worked at the score in 1835 and 36. Details of the plot and the rather licentious tendency of the whole are described in his Ges. Schriften, vol. i. The music is curiously unlike his former models; and it is easy to trace the influence of 'La Muette,' and even of 'Il Pirata' and 'Norma.'
In the autumn of 1834 Wagner undertook the duties of Musikdirector at the Magdeburg theatre. The troupe of actors and singers, mostly young people, was not a bad one; they liked him, and the curious life behind and before the scenes afforded interest and amusement. At concerts under his direction the overture to 'Die Feen' and a new overture to Apel's play 'Columbus' (1835) were performed; he wrote music for the celebration of New Year's Day 1835, songs to a fantastic farce 'Der Berggeist,' etc., and came to be liked by the public as well as the artists. In the summer of 1835 he went on a tour to find new singers, and was promised 'a benefit performance' as a set-off against expenses. During this tour he again met Mme. Schroeder-Devrient when she appeared at Nurnberg as Fidelio, and as Emmeline in Weigl's 'Schweizerfamilie.' The theatre at Magdeburg was supported by a small subvention from the Court of Saxony, and managed by a committee. But in spite of such assistance and supervision the worthy Director, Herr Bethmann, was ever on the brink of bankruptcy. He had a habit of disappearing when pay-day came round, and the troupe was in a bad plight during the spring season of 1836. 'We meant to close,' writes Wagner, 'towards the end of April with my opera, and I worked hard to get score and parts finished in good time. But as early as March the leading members threatened to leave; for my sake they agreed to remain till the end of the month and to study my work. This, however, was not an easy task. No Singspiel, but music after the manner of La Muette! Herr Bethmann represented that he would be put to sundry expenses for stage properties, etc., and claimed the first night for his benefit. I was to profit by the second.' There were twelve days left, and the preparations went on incessantly; rehearsals at the theatre, rehearsals at every private lodging; all Magdeburg excited; yet no man knew his part, and the ensembles were hopeless. At the general rehearsal Wagner's conducting, gesticulating and prompting, kept things together somehow. Not so at the performance (March 29, 1836)—a crowded house, and utter chaos. The repetition for the composer's benefit was duly announced, but collapsed ere the curtain could rise—few people in the auditorium, and a free fight behind the scenes!
Wagner had many debts and no means to pay. He repaired to Leipzig, hoping that the long connection of members of his family with the theatre there would smooth the way for 'Das Liebesverbot.' He was advised to offer the part of Marianne to the daughter of the director; but ​Herr Ringelhardt, after perusing the libretto, stated that his paternal conscience would not permit him to sanction the appearance of his daughter 'in a piece of such frivolous tendency.' Wagner next applied to the Königstaedter Theater at Berlin—equally in vain. Penniless, he left Berlin for the Prussian town of Königsberg, where colleagues from Magdeburg—Frau Pollert the prima donna, and his special friend Wilhelmina or 'Minna' Planer, the actress (erste Liebhaberin)—had found engagements. With a view to the conductorship he arranged concerts at the Schauspielhaus, at one of which an overture of his, presumably 'Columbus,' was performed.—At length the appointment as conductor was promised; and he forthwith married Fraulein Planer (Nov. 24, 1836)—the third daughter of the 'Mechanicus' Gothilf Planer of Dresden. 'I wasted a year at Königsberg amid petty cares, worrying myself and others. An overture "Rule Britannia" is the only thing I wrote.' How to get out of this groove of mediocrity? He longed for Paris. In those days success in the operatic world began in France. Had not Meyerbeer recently cleared 300,000 francs by 'Les Huguenots'? Wagner sent sketches for an opera in four acts 'Die hohe Braut,' after a novel of Heinrich König's to Scribe the librettist, hoping thus to approach the Parisian Opéra. Of course Scribe took no notice. About Michaelmas the Director at Königsberg followed Herr Bethmann's example, and declared himself bankrupt.
Wagner eagerly grasped at a chance which presented itself from the Russian side of the Baltic. A theatre was about to be started under Karl v. Holtei at Riga. On the recommendation of Dorn, who had gone thither some years before, Wagner was chosen 'First Musikdirector,' and his wife, and her sister, Therese Planer, were engaged for the 'Schauspiel.' As compared with Magdeburg or Königsberg, Riga was a wealthy place, and the salaries were liberal. Wagner found all that was needful to attain good performances, and set to work energetically. During the winter season he conducted orchestral concerts; his overtures 'Columbus' and 'Rule Britannia' were played; he wrote various arias for the vocalists; and the text to a comic opera in two acts, 'Die glückliche Bärenfamilie.' Dec. 11th is the date of a 'Benefizvorstellung von Bellini's Norma, für Herrn Musikdirector Wagner.' During the summer of 1838 he rehearsed Méhul's 'Joseph' 'with great love and enthusiasm for the work'—and completed the book of 'Rienzi,'
When in the autumn I began the music to Rienzi, my sole care was to do justice to the subject. I had so laid it out that a first performance would be impossible at a second-rate theatre. I had Paris in view.—The thought of conscious triviality, even for a single bar, was intolerable. The character of Rienzi, ardent, aspiring, amid barbarous surroundings, interested me. I approached it by way of the grand opera; still my first care was to depict it in accordance with my feelings.
In the spring of 1839, at the termination of his contract, the first two acts were finished. He returned to Königsberg (July 1839), paid his debts, repaired to the port of Pillau, and took berths, on board a sailing vessel bound for London, for himself, his little wife, and a huge Newfoundland dog, en route for Paris. 'I shall never forget the voyage: it lasted three weeks and a half, and was rich in disasters. Three times we suffered from the effects of heavy storms. The passage through the Narrows made a wondrous impression on my fancy. The legend of the 'Flying Dutchman' (he had read it in Heine's Salon) 'was confirmed by the sailors, and the circumstances gave it a distinct and characteristic colour in my mind. We stopped eight days in London to recover from the trying effects of the voyage. I was interested above all things in the aspect of the town and the Houses of Parliament; of the theatres I saw nothing.'
At Boulogne he made the acquaintance of Meyerbeer, and remained four weeks to cultivate it. How far the music to 'Rienzi' pleased Meyerbeer does not appear, and the saying attributed to him that 'Rienzi is the best opera-book extant' is not sufficiently authenticated. Meyerbeer provided Wagner with letters of introduction to the Directors of the Opéra and the Théâtre de la Renaissance, to Schlesinger the music-publisher and proprietor of the 'Revue et Gazette Musicale,' and to M. Gouin his agent, 'l'alter ego du grand maître.' Assertions in German journals that Wagner was then or at a later period under pecuniary obligations to Meyerbeer are groundless, and have been publicly contradicted. The true relations of the two men will be described further on.
Paris. Wagner arrived in Paris in September 1839, and remained till April 7, 1842 (æt. 26-29). His hopes and plans were not realised; yet, for the growth of his power as an artist this was an important and eventful time.
Except for the sake of my poor wife, whose patience was sorely tried, I have no reason to regret the adventure. At two distinct periods we felt the pinch of poverty severely—actually suffered from cold and hunger. I did a good deal of work, mere drudgery for the most part, but I also studied and wrote assiduously, and the performances of Beethoven at the Conservatoire were invaluable to me.
They found lodgings in an out-of-the-way quarter, Rue de la Tonnellerie, 'au fond d'un appartement garni d'assez triste apparence,' in an old house which claims to have been the birthplace of Molière. Patronised and introduced by Meyerbeer, Wagner was received ​with marked politeness. 'Léon Pillet, Director of the Opera, at that time called 'Académie royale de musique' [see vol. i. p. 6] lui tend les bras, Schlesinger lui fait mille offres de service, Habeneck (Conductor at the Opéra and the Conservatoire) le traite d'égal à égal.' But he soon found that fine speeches meant anything rather than help or goodwill. In fact, Meyerbeer's intervention seems to have told against, rather than for him. 'Do you know what makes me suspicious of this young man?' said Heine; 'it is that Meyerbeer recommends him.' 'When told of Wagner's antecedents and his sanguine hopes of success, Heine devoutly folded his hands in admiration of a German's faith.—There was no chance whatever for 'Rienzi' at the Opéra. 'Quand il lui détaille les merveilles de son Rienzi, le directeur de l'académie enveloppe sa phrase laudative d'épithètes plus réservées: quand il insiste et demands une audition à jour fixe, son interlocuteur recule visiblement, et redouble d'aménités oratoires pour éviter un engagement formel.' A writer for the 'Variétés' undertook a translation of the libretto of 'Das Liebesverbot' for the Théâtre de la Renaissance. Three numbers were tried and found acceptable. 'Wagner quitte à la hâte la rue de la Tonnellerie, trop éloignée de ce monde d'artistes avec lequel il va se trouver journellement en contact. Il achète des meubles et s'établit triomphalement rue du Helder.' On the very day of his removal M. Joli the Director failed, and the doors of the theatre were closed. Wagner attempted to gain a footing at one of the Boulevard theatres. There was a talk of his setting a vaudeville of Dumanoir's, 'La Descente de la Courtille,' and a beginning was made. 'Malheureusement, les choristes du théâtre ne s'étaient pas aguerris encore à cette époque avec la musique de La Belle Hélène, et, après quelques répétitions dérisoires, on déclara celle du jeune Allemand parfaitement inexécutable. On en conserva seulement une chanson: "Allons à la Courtille!" qui eut son heure de celébrité.' Wagner offered himself as a 'choriste' at a still smaller Boulevard theatre. 'I came off worse than Berlioz when he was in a similar predicament. The conductor who tested my capabilities discovered that I could not sing at all, and pronounced me a hopeless case all round.'
He tried song-writing with a view to the Salons. A French version of Heine's 'Die beiden Grenadiere' was made for him, and he set it, in 1839, introducing the 'Marseillaise' at the close—a rather difficult and not altogether satisfactory composition, refused by professional singers with sufficient reason. It appears strange, however, that neither singers nor publishers would have anything to do with three other simple and lovely songs to French words: the delicious little, Berceuse, 'Dors, mon enfant,' Ronsard's 'Mignonne,' and Victor Hugo's 'Attente.' These were, literally, too good for the market. For 'Mignonne' Wagner in the end got a few francs when the song was printed in the music pages of a French periodical. Subsequently (1841–42) it appeared together with 'Attente' and 'Dors, mon enfant,' in the 'Beilagen' to Lewald's 'Europa.' April 1, 1841, is the date of a touching letter to the editor of 'Europa,' to whom Wagner submits the three songs, requesting speedy payment of the 'maximum' fee paid for such contributions, since prices are known to vary from 5 to 9 florins (about 10–18s.), 'Ein Schelm, wer sich besser giebt, als er ist: mich hat man bier so zugerichtet!'
On Feb. 4, 1840, the score of a superb orchestral piece, published 15 years later as 'Eine Faust Ouverture,' was finished. This is the first work that has the true stamp of Wagner. It was conceived after a rehearsal of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony at the Conservatoire in the winter of 1839 (æt 25) and is in some sense a piece of autobiography written in music. As originally planned it was to form the first movement of a Faust Symphony.—After a trial performance at Dresden, July 22, 1844, it was laid aside till 1855, when a revised version was published bearing a motto from Goethe's 'Faust'—
Und so ist mir das Dasein eine Last, Der Tod erwünscht, das Leben mir verhasst!
It is a masterpiece of construction and instrumentation. The influence of Beethoven is apparent in the concise power of the themes, and the plain direct manner in which they are set forth, yet the work is Wagner's own from beginning to end.
Performances in Paris were not so good as he had anticipated. 'The Académie savours of mediocrity; the mise en scène and decorations are better than the singing.—At the Opéra Comique the representations have a completeness and a physiognomy of their own such as we know nothing of in Germany, but the music written for that theatre is perhaps the worst that has yet been produced in these days of decadence. The miserable quadrille rhythms which now (1842) rattle across the stage have banished the grace of Méhul, Isouard, Boieldieu, and young Auber. For a musician there is but one thing worth attention—the orchestral concerts at the Conservatoire; but these stand alone, and nothing springs from them.' His remarks about the stars at the Opéra—Duprez, Dorus-Gras, Rubini 'with his sempiternal shake'—are rarely without a sting.—The facile success of virtuosi annoyed him.—Liszt, with whom he was to be so closely connected in after days, and who was then at the height of his fame as a virtuoso, appeared quite antipathetic. Wagner called once only at Liszt's lodgings, and left them in a state of irritation. 'Take Liszt to a better world and he will treat the assembly of angels to a Fantaisie sur le Diable.'—Paris at the time harboured many Germans—artists, savants, literati—in needy ​circumstances for the most part, but warm-hearted and impulsive. In such circles Wagner found congenial associates. 'I met with many proofs of true friendship in Paris' and the words may be taken to explain how it was that he and his 'bildhübsche kleine Frau' did not actually starve during that first winter. The dog was stolen before they left the Rue de la Tonnellerie.
Having no immediate prospects, he set to work to complete the music to 'Rienzi,' and for its ultimate performance cast his eye on Dresden, where his name might be supposed to have some little weight. On Nov. 19 the score was completed, and on Dec. 4 he dispatched it to Herr v. Lüttichau, the Intendant. In the meantime, to keep the wolf from the door, he did all manner of odd work for Schlesinger, reading proofs, arranging rubbish for various instruments—the cornet-à-piston among the number—making partitions de piano of operas, etc. In 1841 he began to write for the 'Gazette Musicale.' A clever novelette, 'Une visite à Beethoven,' 'fut très remarqué par Berlioz, qui en parla avec eloge dans le Journal des Débats,' Such things improved his position in the estimation of musicians, and preserved his self-respect. But the pay was small and partly absorbed by the expenses of translation; for Wagner, like most Germans, knew enough French for everyday purposes, but could not write the language effectively. His contributions to the Gazette were—to give their German titles:—'Der Virtues und der Künstler,' 'Der Künstler und die Oeffentlichkeit,' 'Ein glücklicher Abend,' 'Der Freyschütz,' 'Eine Pilgerfahrt zu Beethoven,' 'Das Ende eines deutschen Musikers in Paris.' The original German of the two latter has been preserved in the 'Dresdener Abendzeitung' of Theodor Hell (Hofrath Winkler) for 1841; the other articles have been translated back into German by Frau Cosima Wagner. Further articles written in Paris which the author thought worth reprinting are:–Rossini's 'Stabat Materm' dated Dec. 15, 1841, and signed H. Valentino (Schumann's 'Neue Zeitschriffe für Musik'), 'Le Freyschütz,' 'Bericht nach Deutschland' (Ges. Schrift. vol. i.), 'Ueber die Ouvertüre' (ditto, do.). A series of gossiping articles in Lewald's 'Europa,' signed V. Freudenfeuer, and styled 'Pariser Amusements' and 'Pariser Fatalitäten für Deutsche,' also the correspondence written for the Dresden Abendzeitung—'Nachrichten aus dem Gebiete der Künste und Wissenschaften,' have been cancelled—with the one exception of an article on Halévy's 'Reine de Chypre,' Dec. 31, 1841 (Ges. Schrift. vol. i.).
On Feb. 4, 1841, Wagner's overture 'Columbus' was performed at the annual concert to which the publisher Schlesinger used to invite the subscribers to the Gazette musicale. This, by the way, was the only performance of one of Wagner's works at Paris during his first residence there. Score and parts disappeared at that time, and have not yet been found.
When Meyerbeer returned in the summer of 1840, Wagner was in great distress. Meyerbeer again introduced him to the Director of the Opéra, M. Pillet. This time it was a personal introduction, and the reception accordingly was still more polite and encouraging. On Meyerbeer's advice Wagner submitted detailed sketches for the libretto to an opera, 'Der fliegende Holländer,' with the proposal that a French text-book should be prepared for him to set to music. Wagner had come to an understanding about the treatment of the story with Heine, who had a claim to be consulted, inasmuch as it was Heine who had recently related it and had suggested a new and touching dénouement which Wagner wished to adopt. In Heine's 'Memoiren des Herrn von Schnabelewopski,' the imaginary hero witnesses the beginning and end of a play about the 'Ahasuerus of the ocean' at some theatre at Amsterdam, and reports that in the course of that performance the salvation of the doomed captain was brought about by the devotion of a woman 'faithful unto death.' Matters at the Opéra apparently progressed just as Wagner desired. His sketches were accepted, and the names of various arrangeurs were mentioned. Meyerbeer again left Paris, and soon after his departure M. Pillet astonished Wagner by telling him that he had taken a liking to 'Le Vaisseau-Fantôme,' and was therefore anxious to dispose of it in favour of a composer to whom he had long ago promised a good libretto. Wagner refused to listen to any such proposition, and demanded his manuscript back. But this again did not suit M. Pillet, and so the matter remained in abeyance, Wagner consoling himself with the hope that Meyerbeer would ultimately set it straight. In the spring of 1841 Wagner, pressed by creditors, sub-let his rooms in the Rue du Helder, and took lodgings in the suburbs, at Meudon. Accidentally he heard that the plans for the 'Holländer' had been handed to M. Paul Foucher for versification, and that if he did not choose to give his consent to what was going on, he might be left in the cold altogether. Protests proved useless, and in the end M. Pillet paid £20 by way of compensation!
Wagner lost no time in completing his own poem and setting it to music. In seven weeks the score of the entire opera, except the overture, was finished. But £20, even at Meudon, cannot last for ever. Before Wagner could find leisure to write the overture he had to do two months more of journeyman work (Partitions de piano of Halévy's 'Guitarrero,' 'La Reine de Chypre,' etc.). 'I did it all cheerfully enough, corresponded with the artists at Dresden, and looked forward to my deliverance. I offered the book ​of the Holländer to the managers at Munich and Leipzig; they refused it as unfit for Germany. I had fondly hoped it would touch chords that respond quickest with Germans!' At Berlin a word from Meyerbeer sufficed to get it 'accepted,' but without prospect of immediate performance.
After the composition of the 'Holländer' he cast about for other subjects. During a course of historical reading he met with the story of the conquest of Apulia and Sicily by Manfred, son of the Emperor Friedrich II. The picturesque semi-oriental circumstances of the story attracted him, and he sketched a libretto, 'Die Sarazener,' in which a prophetess, Manfred's half-sister by an Arabian mother, kindles the enthusiasm of the Saracens and leads to victory and to Manfred's coronation. Mme. Devrient, to whom some years later he submitted the fully developed plan, objected to the dénouement, and it was dropped altogether.
By a lucky chance, the popular version (Volksbuch) of the story of Tannhäuser now came into his hands and took possession of his fancy. It has already been said that he was familiar with the subject; in early youth he had read Tieck's rhymed 'Erzählung' of Tannhäuser, and Hoffmann's novel 'Der Sängerkrieg'; he was also aware that Weber had planned an opera on the legend of Tannhäuser. 'When I re-read Tieck's altogether modern poem, I saw clearly why its mystical coquetry and frivolous Catholicism had formerly repelled me. The Volksbuch and the plain Tannhäuser-Lied present the figure of Tannhäuser in far clearer and simpler outlines.' He was especially struck by the connection of Tannhäuser with the contest of Minnesänger at Wartburg, which the Volksbuch establishes in a loose sort of way. Thereupon, he endeavoured to trace the story of the 'Sängerkrieg' to its source. A German philologist of his acquaintance happened to possess a copy of the mediaeval German poem. It interested him greatly, and he was tempted to pursue the subject further.—One of the MS. copies of the 'Wartburgkrieg' introduces the poem of 'Loherangrin.' Wagner was led to the study of Wolfram von Eschenbach's 'Parzival' and 'Titurel'; 'and thus an entirely new world of poetical matter suddenly opened before me.'—
Dresden (1842–49, æt. 29–36). Before the ensemble rehearsals for 'Rienzi' began in July, Wagner made an excursion to the Bohemian hills, and at Teplitz completed the sketches for the book of 'Tannhäuser.' 'Rienzi' had found friends in the person of Herr Fischer the chorusmaster, and of Josef Tichatschek the tenor, who felt sure that his 'trumpet tones' would tell in the title-rôle. Mme. Schroeder-Devrient, in spite of her contours tant soit peu maternels, would make the most of Adriano. There was ample opportunity for novel scenic effects, dumb show, and the display of choral masses. The chorus-master and the stage-manager were ready to make special efforts; Reissiger, the conductor, was well disposed, and had a good orchestra; in short, the night of Oct. 20, 1842, proved a memorable one. The performance began at 6, and came to an end just before midnight, amid immense applause. 'We ought all to have gone to bed,' relates a witness, 'but we did nothing of the kind.' Early next morning Wagner appeared in the band-room to make excisions. In the afternoon he re-appeared to see whether they had been properly indicated in the parts; the copyist excused himself on the plea that the singers objected! 'Ich lasse mir nichts streichen,' said Tichatsehek, 'es war zu himmlisch!' During the next ten days two repetitions were given to crowded houses at increased prices. When Reissiger, after the third performance, offered Wagner the bâton, the enthusiasm redoubled. Wagner was the hero of the day. By and by Rienzi came to occupy two evenings: acts 1 and 2—and 3, 4, 5. The attraction at Dresden has continued more or less ever since. But it was five years before the work was performed at Berlin, Oct. 26, 1847; it was produced at Hamburg, 1844; at Königsberg, 1845; at Munich and Cassel, 1870; at Vienna, 1871.
Nov. 26, 1842, a soirée was given at the Gewandhaus, Leipzig, by Sophie Schroeder, the tragedian (Mme. Devrient's mother), at which Tichatschek sang Rienzi's prayer and Mme. Devrient the air of Adriano. Wagner's literary friend Laube ('Der sich gar nichts daraus machte wie etwas klang') mistook a duet from Marschner's 'Templer und Jüdin' for another extract from 'Rienzi,' and reported that the three pieces 'were rather dry and poor in thought.' Laube was about to assume the editorship of the 'Zeitung für die elegante Welt,' and asked Wagner for materials towards a biographical article. This was the origin of the 'Autobiographische Skizze,' repeatedly quoted above, and reprinted in vol. i. of Wagner's collected writings. It was printed verbatim in the 5th and 6th numbers of that journal, Feb. 1 and 8, 1843, and was accompanied by a portrait 'after Kietz.'
The managers of the Dresden theatre were now eager to bring out 'Der fliegende Holländer.' The opera was hastily prepared, and Wagner conducted the first performance on Jan. 2, 1843 (Senta, Madame Schroeder-Devrient). 'I had aimed at presenting the action in its simplest traits, and at avoiding needless details and everything that might flavour of intrigue; the incidents of the story were to tell their own tale.' The public had expected a second 'Rienzi,' and were disappointed. It was by no means a failure, nor was it a succès d'estime: some ​were deeply touched, others simply astonished. Schumann's Zeitschrift reported that Mme. Devrient's Senta 'was the most original representation she has perhaps ever given.' Wagner's own words tend to show that she made too much of her part; the rest, especially the representative of the Holländer, Wachter, too little, and that in spite of applause and recalls the performance was unsatisfactory. The work was repeated in due course, and never quite disappeared from the repertoire. The poem was submitted to Spohr, who pronounced it 'a little masterpiece,' and asked for the music, which he conducted at Cassel June 5, 1843. Wagner wrote a warm letter of thanks, and a pleasant correspondence ensued. Altogether Spohr appears to have been the only eminent musician of an earlier generation who cordially held out his hand to young Wagner. Spohr's 'Selbstbiographie' (ii. 272) contains extracts from a letter to his friend Lüder, written whilst the rehearsals were going on: 'Der fliegende Holländer interests me in the highest degree. The opera is imaginative, of noble invention, well written for the voices, immensely difficult, rather overdone as regards instrumentation, but full of novel effects; at the theatre it is sure to prove clear and intelligible.… I have come to the conclusion that among composers for the stage pro tem Wagner is the most gifted.'
The 'Holländer' was originally meant to be performed in one Act, as a 'dramatic Ballade.' A reference to the score will show that the division into three Acts is made by means of crude cuts, and new starts equally crude. The first reading should be restored.
When 'Rienzi' was produced, the death of Capellmeister Morlacchi (1841) and of Musik-director Rastrelli (1842) had left two vacancies at Dresden. The names of Schindelmeisser, Gläser, and Wagner were put forward as candidates. Wagner appears at first to have tried for the lesser post of Musikdirector, with a salary of 1200 thalers (£180). But Herr von Luttichau the 'Intendant' supported him, and in the end he was appointed Hofcapellmeister with a salary of 1500 thalers (£225) Jan. 10, 1843, he gave the customary 'trial performance' by rehearsing and conducting Weber's 'Euryanthe'; and, whilst the rival candidate, Schindelmeisser, was busy with Spontini's 'La Vestale,' he repaired to Berlin to press forward 'Rienzi' and the 'Holländer.' But it appeared that the managers of the Royal Prussian Opera did not care to risk a performance of either work just then, their acceptance of Wagner's libretti having been a mere act of politeness towards Meyerbeer. Before the end of January Wagner's appointment at Dresden was ratified by the authorities. The ceremony of installation took place on Feb. 2—the day after Berlioz's arrival—and it was the first of Wagner's official acts to assist Berlioz at the rehearsals for his concerts.
Wagner had scruples as to whether he would prove the right man for the place. With every appearance of reason his wife and friends urged that no one in his circumstances could afford to slight a permanent appointment with a fixed salary. No doubt he would have been the right man if the 'Königliche sächsische Hof-Opern-theater' had in reality been what it professed to be—an institution subsidised for the sake of art. But the words 'Operatic Theatre, Royal and subsidised' or otherwise, and 'Art for Art's sake,' convey widely divergent notions. Wagner had experience enough to know as much. He held his peace, however, and accepted—'froh und freudig ward ich königlicher Kapellmeister.' The duties were heavy: performances every evening all the year round—at least three plays, and generally three, sometimes four operas per week—besides the music at the Hofkirche and occasional concerts at Court. The Musik-director led at the plays, and looked after the church-music on week-days; the two Kapellmeisters conducted at church on Sundays and festivals, and each was responsible for certain operas. During his seven years' service Wagner rehearsed and conducted Euryanthe, Freyschütz, Don Juan, Zauberflöte, Clemenza di Tito, Fidelio; Spontini's La Vestale, Spohr's Jessonda, Marschner's Hans Heiling and Adolf von Nassau, Winter's Unterbrochenes Opferfest, Mendelssohn's Sommernachtstraum and Antigone, Gluck's Armida, etc. He made a special arrangement of Iphigenie in Aulis, performed Feb. 22, 1847, in which he revised the text, retouched the instrumentation, condensed certain bits, added sundry connecting links, and changed the close. The arrangement has been published, and is now generally adopted. At the 'Pensionsconcerte' given by the 'Hofcapelle' his reading of Beethoven's Symphonies, Eroica, C minor, A major, and F major, and particularly of the Choral Symphony, attracted much attention. 'It was worth while to make the journey from Leipzig merely to hear the recitative of the contrabasses,' said Niels Gade, concerning the last.
Wagner had not much to do with the music at the Hofkirche, but he detested the routine work there. The Catholic Court chose to have none but Catholics in the choir, women's voices were excluded, and the soprano and alto parts were taken by boys. All told, the choir consisted of 24 or 26—14 men and 10 or 12 boys. The accompaniments were played by a full orchestra, on festive occasions as many as 50 performers, including trumpets and trombones! 'The echoes and reverberations in the building were deafening. I wanted to relieve the hard-worked members of the orchestra, add female voices, and introduce true Catholic church-music a capella. As a specimen I prepared Palestrina's Stabat Mater, and suggested other pieces, but my efforts failed.'
There was an odd relic of bygone days there, a musico, a great fat soprano. I used to delight in his extreme conceit and silliness. On holidays and festivals he refused to sing unless some aria was especially set apart for him. It was quite wonderful to hear the ancient colossus trill that florid stuff of Hasse's: a huge pudding, with a voice like a cracked cornet à piston. But he had a virtue for which we may well envy him; he could sing as much in one breath as any normal singer I ever met with in two.
Wagner became leader of the 'Liedertafel' (a choir of male voices established 1839) and was chosen conductor of the 'Männergesangfest' which took place in July 1843, and for which he wrote 'Das Liebesmahl der Apostel'—eine biblische Scene. This work requires three separate choirs of male voices, which begin a capella and are ultimately supported by the full orchestra. It is dedicated to Frau Charlotte Weinlig, 'der Wittwe seines unvergesslichen Lehrers.'
In 1844 the remains of C. M. v. Weber were exhumed and brought from London to Dresden. Wagner had taken an active part in the movement; and the musical arrangements for the solemn reception of the body and the interment, Dec. 14, were carried out under his direction.
Meantime Tannhäuser was completed (April 13, 1844; first revision, Dec. 23; further revision of close, Sept. 4, 1846). He had worked at it arduously, and finished it with the greatest care; so much so that he ventured to have the full score lithographed from his manuscript. In July 1845 he forwarded a copy to Carl Gaillard at Berlin with a long and interestingletter:—'Pianoforte arrangement, etc., has already been prepared, so that on the day after the first performance I shall be quite free. I mean to be lazy for a year or so, to make use of my library and produce nothing … If a dramatic work is to be significant and original it must result from a step in advance in the life and culture of the artist; but such a step cannot be made every few months!' He desired to rest and read; but he returned from Teplitz after the summer holidays with sketches for 'Die Meistersinger' and 'Lohengrin.' The first performance of 'Tannhäuser' took place at Dresden Oct. 19, 1845. It was not an unqualified success—even the executants confessed themselves bewildered. Tichatschek sang the part of Tannhäuser, Mme. Devrient that of Venus, Johanna Wagner (Richard Wagner's niece) that of Elizabeth, Mitterwurzer that of Wolfram. The scene in the Venusberg fell flat. 'You are a man of genius,' said Mme. Devrient, 'but you write such eccentric stuff, it is hardly possible to sing it.' The second act, with the march, fared best; the third act, with the 'pointless and empty recitation of Tannhäuser' (i.e. the story of the pilgrimage to Rome which now holds people spellbound) was pronounced a bore. Critics discovered that Wagner had no melody, no form; 'this sort of music acts on the nerves.'—'A distressing, harassing subject'—'art ought to be cheerful and consoling'—'why should not Tannhäuser marry Elizabeth?' The Intendant explained to Wagner that his predecessor, 'the late Kapellmeister' Weber, had managed matters better, 'since he understood how to let his operas end satisfactorily!' The public was fairly puzzled. A feeling of complete isolation overcame me,' writes Wagner. 'It was not my vanity—I had knowingly deceived myself, and now I felt numbed. I saw a single possibility before me: induce the public to understand and participate in my aims as an artist.' And this is the root of his subsequent literary and theoretical efforts.
Liszt conducted the overture to Tannhäuser at Weimar Nov. 12, 1848, and produced the entire work Feb. 16, 1849. Other leading theatres followed at intervals—Wiesbaden 1852, Munich 1855, Berlin 1856, Vienna ('Thalia theater' and 'Theater in der Josefstadt' 1857), 'Hofoperntheater' Nov. 19, 1859; Paris March 13, 1861.
Spohr brought out 'Tannhäuser' in 1853. 'The opera,' he wrote, 'contains much that is new and beautiful, also several ugly attacks on one's ears … A good deal that I disliked at first I have got accustomed to on repeated hearing—only the absence of definite rhythms (das Rhythmuslose) and the frequent lack of rounded periods (Mangel an abgerundeten Perioden) continue to disturb me,' etc. Mendelssohn witnessed a performance, and said to Wagner 'that a canonical answer in the adagio of the second finale had given him pleasure.' Moritz Hauptmann (Weinlig's successor at the Thomasschule) pronounced the Overture 'quite atrocious (ganz grässlich), incredibly awkward, long and tedious.' Schumann (who settled in Dresden in the autumn of 1844) wrote to Heinrich Dorn, Jan. 7, 1846, 'I wish you could see Tannhäuser; it contains deeper, more original, and altogether an hundredfold better things than his previous operas—at the same time a good deal that is musically trivial. On the whole, Wagner may become of great importance and significance to the stage, and I am sure he is possessed of the needful courage. Technical matters, instrumentation, I find altogether remarkable, beyond comparison better than formerly. Already he has finished a new text-book, Lohengrin.'
About 1845–46 pecuniary troubles again began to press upon Wagner. The success of 'Rienzi' had naturally led him to hope that his operas would soon find their way to the leading theatres. To facilitate this he had entered into an agreement with a firm of music-publishers (C. F. Meser, Dresden) to print the pianoforte scores of Rienzi and the Holländer. The pianoforte arrangement and the full score of Tannhäuser were now ​added to these. The conditions of the contract have not been made public; the results, however, proved disastrous. Issued at high prices, and by publishers whose business relations were not very extensive, the editions did not sell well, and Wagner became liable for a considerable sum. His professional duties, too, began to grow irksome. He had gradually drifted into the position of an agitator and a party leader. The more gifted among his musical colleagues admired and liked him, but to the majority his excitable temperament was antipathetic; and his restless activity was found inconvenient. No one disputed his personal ascendancy, yet he was made to feel the effects of jealousy and ill-will. The press did its best to confuse matters, and to spread damaging gossip. The accredited critic at Dresden, Reissiger's friend J. Schladebach, was the champion of existing usages, which he chose to call classical traditions. A person of some education and an experienced writer, Schladebach cannot be accused of having treated Wagner unfairly, as journalism goes. At first he was inclined to be rather patronising; in course of time he took care to minimise whatever might tell in Wagner's favour and to accentuate everything that looked like a departure from the beaten tracks. Unfortunately he was the principal Dresden correspondent of the musical and literary journals of Leipzig, Berlin, etc. Thus the effect of his reports was more detrimental to Wagner's prospects than perhaps he intended it to be. Managers of theatres and German musicians generally took their cue from the journals, and in the end Wagner came to be regarded as an eccentric and unruly personage difficult to deal with. The libretti and scores he submitted were hardly glanced at; in sundry cases indeed the parcels were returned unopened!
Except the performance of Gluck's Iphigenia in Aulis, arranged by Wagner, and of Beethoven's Choral Symphony, which was repeated at the Pensionsconcert, there was nothing remarkable in the musical doings of 1847.—Wagner led a more retired life than heretofore, and worked steadily at Lohengrin. On the 28th August the introduction was written, and the instrumentation of the entire work completed during the winter and early spring. He knew that he had made a considerable step in advance since Tannhäuser, but he was also conscious of having moved still further away from the standards of contemporary taste. It is enough to state that whilst he was writing Lohengrin, the repertoire at Dresden consisted in a large measure of Donizetti. A letter written early in 1847 exhibits an almost apologetic tone: 'I am inclined rather to doubt my powers than to overrate them, and I must look upon my present undertakings as experiments towards determining whether or not the opera is possible.' The management at Dresden did not care for such experiments, and indefinitely put off the production of Lohengrin; so that the finale to the first act, which was performed on the sooth anniversary of the Kapelle, Sept. 22, 1848, was all he heard of the work.
At Berlin Tannhäuser had been refused as 'too epic,' whatever that may mean. After six years' delay preparations were begun there for Rienzi, and the King of Prussia's birthday, Oct. 5, 1847, was fixed for the first performance. When Wagner arrived to superintend rehearsals he was received in a singularly lukewarm manner; personal attacks and injurious insinuations appeared in the local journals, and it soon became evident that Rienzi was foredoomed. The management discovered that political catchwords, 'liberty,' 'fraternity,' and the like, could be culled from the libretto; another opera was chosen for the royal fête, and Rienzi postponed till October 26, when the court did not attend, and 'General-Musikdirector Meyerbeer thought fit to leave town.' A large miscellaneous audience applauded vigorously, but the success proved ephemeral and Wagner's hopes of bettering his pecuniary position were disappointed.
In 1848 the universal distress and political discontent told upon musical matters at Dresden as it did elsewhere. The repertoire showed signs of rapid deterioration. Flotow's 'Martha' attracted the public. With the exception of three subscription concerts given by the orchestra, at the first of which, in January, Wagner conducted Bach's 8-part motet 'Singet dem Herrn ein neues Lied,' nothing of interest was performed. Towards the end of March, when the instrumentation of Lohengrin was finished, his restless mind had already begun to brood upon new subjects. Sketches for 'Jesus von Nazareth'—a tentative effort in the direction of Parsifal—were laid aside, as he failed to find a satisfactory mode of treating the subject. For the last time the conflicting claims of History and of Legend presented themselves—Friedrich der Rothbart on the one side, and Siegfried on the other. The former subject would have been particularly opportune at a time when the name of the great emperor was in everybody's mouth; but Wagner's historical studies regarding Barbarossa had no other result than a curious essay treating of that vague borderland which separates historical fact from mythical tradition, entitled Die Wibelungen, Weltgeschichte aus der Sage. It was written in 1848, and printed in 1850. To students for whom the growth of a great man's mind is almost as interesting as the ultimate result, this essay presents many points of interest; to others it cannot be attractive, except as evidence of Wagner's peculiar earnestness of purpose and his delight in hard work.
He decided to dramatise the myths of the Nibelungen, and made his first grip at the subject in a prose version (1848) 'Der Nibelungen-Mythus als Entwurf zu einem Drama.' This was immediately followed by 'Siegfried's Tod,' in three acts and a prologue (autumn, 1848), written in alliterative verse, and subsequently ​incorporated with many additions and emendations in 'Götterdämmerung.' Sundry germs of the music, too, were conceived at this early period.
Wagner entertained hopes that the general desire for political reform might lead to a better state of things in musical and theatrical matters. Accordingly he wrote out an elaborate plan for the organisation of a 'national theatre.' His objects were:—thorough reform of the theatre at Dresden; amalgamation of the existing art institutions of Saxony, with head-quarters at Dresden; increase of efficiency and reduction of expenditure. Supported throughout by detailed statements of facts and figures, his proposals appear eminently practical, and might have been carried out entire or in part with obvious advantage. The new liberal Minister of the Interior, Herr Oberländer, sympathised with Wagner, but had little hope of surmounting the initiatory difficulty, viz. to detach the finances of the theatre from those of the court, and get an annual grant of public money in place of the subsidies from the king's privy purse. Derisory pencil notes on the margin of the manuscript showed that it had been read by certain people at court, but no action was taken by the Ministry; and the political catastrophe of May 1849 ere long put an end to all projects of reform, social or artistic.
Wagner was less concerned with politics proper than is generally supposed. The speech—one of two—which he delivered in the 'Vaterlandsverein,' a political club, June 14, 1848, and which was then reported in full in the 'Dresden Anzeiger,' has been unearthed and reprinted by Herr Tappert (R. W. p. 33–42). Its tone is moderate enough; and it had no further consequences than a reprimand from the police authorities, who thought it undesirable that a 'königlicher Kapellmeister' should speak in such a place. In May 1849, when the court of Saxony fled, and Prussian troops were despatched to coerce the rioters at Dresden, Wagner was much excited; but the tale of his having carried a red flag, and fought on the barricades, is not corroborated by the 'acts of accusation' preserved in the Saxon police records. Alarming rumours, however, reached him that a warrant for his arrest was being prepared, and he thought it prudent to get out of the way and await the turn of events. He went quietly to Weimar, where Liszt was busy with Tannhäuser. On the 19th May, in course of a rehearsal, news came from Dresden that orders for Wagner's arrest as a 'politically dangerous individual' had been issued. There was no time to lose; Liszt procured a passport, and escorted Wagner as far as Eisenach on the way to Paris.
Exile (1849–61, æt. 36–48). 'It is impossible to describe my delight, after I had got over the immediate painful impressions, when I felt free at last—free from the world of torturing and ever-unsatisfied wishes, free from the annoying surroundings that had called forth such wishes.'
The hopes which Liszt indulged, that Wagner might now be able to gain a footing in Paris, proved futile. Wagner's desire to publish a series of articles in a French periodical 'on the prospects of art under the revolution' met with no response. Paris, said the editor of the Journal des Débats, would laugh at any attempt to discuss the notions of a German musician about the relation of art to politics.—Music altogether was at a low ebb in France, and no one cared to risk the production of a tragic opera.
In June, 1849, Wagner went to Zurich, where several of his Dresden friends had found refuge, and where his wife joined him. In Oct. 1849, he became a citizen of Zurich. The first years of his residence there are marked by a long spell of literary work: 'Die Kunst und die Revolution,' 1849; 'Das Kunstwerk der Zukunft,' 'Kunst und Klima,' 'Das Judenthum in der Musik,' 1850; 'Ueber die Goethe Stiftung,' 'Ein Theater in Zurich,' 'Erinnerungen an Spontini,' 1851; 'Ueber die Aufführung des Tannhäuser,' 'Bemerkungen zur Aufführung der Oper Der fliegende Holländer,' 'Oper und Drama,' 1852. 'My mental state,' writes Wagner, looking back upon these books and essays, 'resembled a struggle. I tried to express, theoretically, that which under the incongruity of my artistic aims as contrasted with the tendencies of public art, especially of the opera, I could not properly put forward by means of direct artistic production.'—An account of the main contents of these writings belongs to Part II of this article, and it will suffice here to touch upon a few minor points which are of biographical interest.
Too many side issues have been raised with regard to 'Das Judenthum in der Musik,' an article which first appeared in the Neue Zeitschrift under the pseudonym K. Freigedank. It is a far less intemperate and injudicious production than might be supposed from the succès de scandale it met with when Wagner signed and republished it with additions nineteen years later. In spite of his belief to the contrary, it did not at first attract much attention; the Zeitschrift, then edited by Franz Brendel, had only a few hundred subscribers, and no other German journal, as far as the writer is aware, reproduced it. The only immediate effect was a vindictive feeling in musical circles against Brendel. Eleven masters at the Leipzig Conservatorium, where Brendel was engaged as lecturer on the History of Music, signed a letter requesting him either to give up his post or to divulge the name of the writer. Brendel refused to accept either alternative. Wagner's authorship, however, was suspected, and the attitude of many professional journalists towards him grew bitterly hostile. When he issued the augmented edition in 1869 dozens of articles and pamphlets appeared in reply; yet none of these attempted to deal with the artistic questions ​he had raised. The actual contents of the article were ignored; but Wagner was persistently reproached with having attempted a disgraceful defamation of rival composers 'because of their Hebrew origin'! It remains significant that amongst his staunchest and most intelligent friends there were then, and there are still, many of Jewish descent, who may have wished he had let the subject alone, but who nevertheless see no reason to disagree with him in the main. The noise in the newspapers had an odd result: other writings of his, hitherto a drug on the market, suddenly began to sell, and have continued to do so.
With regard to the fierce attack upon Meyerbeer in 'Oper und Drama,' it should not be overlooked that Wagner's strictures concern Meyerbeer the musician, not Meyerbeer the man. The following extracts from a private letter of 1847 comprise everything Wagner thought fit to state publicly later on.
I am on a pleasant footing with Meyerbeer, and have every reason to value him as a kind and amiable man. But if I attempt to express all that is repellent in the incoherency and empty striving after outward effect in the operatic music of the day, I arrive at the conception 'Meyerbeer.'
Whoever mistakes his way in the direction of triviality has to do penance towards his better self, but whoever consciously seeks triviality is lost.
Did Wagner really act as an ungrateful and ill-conditioned person towards Meyerbeer? The two men never were friends in the true sense of the word. The time they actually spent together can hardly amount to a hundred hours. 1839–42 at Boulogne and Paris, Meyerbeer the senior by 22 years, was the patron, and Wagner the client; and for the next decade this state of things apparently continued. Meyerbeer had spoken well of Wagner, and in return it was expected that Wagner should make himself useful as a partisan. But this Wagner would not and could not do; the broadest hints produced no effect upon him.—When Wagner sought Meyerbeer's acquaintance the latter was surrounded by a host of literary adherents; willing champions in the press, with whom his agent and his publisher could manœuvre as they pleased. But the support of real musicians was wanting. Masters like Spohr and Marschner, Mendelssohn and Schumann, pronounced Meyerbeer's music an ingeniously contrived sham, and would have nothing to do with it; they attributed a good deal of the success of 'Robert,' etc. to Meyerbeer's business talents and to the exertions of his literary 'bureau.' Thus to secure the services of a promising young musician was a matter of some moment, and Wagner was regarded as the right sort of man to enlist. What did Meyerbeer do by way of patronage? He wrote a letter introducing Wagner to M. Pillet, fully aware that there was not a ghost of a chance for an unknown German at the 'Opéra.' To foist Wagner, with his 'Liebesverbot,' upon Antenor Joly and the Théâtre de la Renaissance, was, in the eyes of Parisians, little better than a practical joke; twice or thrice in the year that rotten concern had failed and risen again: 'mon théâtre est mort, vive mon théâtre,' was M. Joly's motto. Meyerbeer introduced Wagner to his publisher Schlesinger. And this is all that came to pass at Paris—unless the fact be taken into account that Scribe imitated an important scene from Rienzi in Le Prophète without acknowledgment. At Dresden a letter from Meyerbeer to Herr v. Lüttichau, dated March 18, 1841, turned the scales in favour of Rienzi, and both Rienzi and the Holländer were accepted (but not performed) on his recommendation at Berlin. After the surprising success of Rienzi, open hostility was shown by certain sections of the press. As time went on, Wagner traced some queer attacks to their source, and came upon members of Meyerbeer's bureau. No one who is aware of the large and complicated interests at stake with regard to the success or failure of a grand opera, will be surprised at the existence of press scandals, and it is of course impossible to say at present whether or not Meyerbeer was personally concerned. Wagner certainly thought he was, but chose to remain silent. It was not until 1850–52 that Meyerbeer's people came to know in their turn whom they were dealing with. By this time when Le Prophète was pitted in Germany against Lohengrin, the words 'friendship' or 'personal obligation' cannot have conveyed the usual meaning to Wagner's mind; yet there is little that savours of revenge or recrimination in 'Oper und Drama' and 'Das Judenthum.' Serious questions of art are treated, and Meyerbeer's works are quoted as glaring examples of operatic good and evil.
Besides the vast mass of theoretical and critical writing, Wagner got through much other work during the first two years at Zurich. He completed the prose version of a drama in three acts 'Wieland der Schmiedt' (meant to be carried out in French verse with a view to performance in Paris), conducted orchestral concerts, superintended the performances at the Stadt-theater (where his young disciples, Carl Ritter and H. von Bülow acted as conductors), lectured on the musical drama (reading the poem of Siegfried's Tod by way of illustration), and kept up a lively correspondence with German friends.
The first performance of Lohengrin took place under Liszt at Weimar, Aug. 28, 1850. The date chosen was that of Goethe's birth and of the inauguration of the statue to Herder; Liszt had invited musical and literary friends from all parts of Europe, and the work, performed (for once) without cuts, made a powerful impression. From that memorable night dates the success of the Wagner movement in Germany. The reception of Lohengrin by the musical profession, the press, and the general public, resembled that of Tannhäuser described above. It is not worth while to give details here. The following words ​of Wagner's are strictly applicable, not only to Lohengrin, but to the first performances of every subsequent work of his: 'Musicians had no objection to my dabbling in poetry, poets admitted my musical attainments; I have frequently been able to rouse the public; professional critics have always disparaged me.' Lohengrin was given at Wiesbaden, 1853; at Leipzig, Schwerin, Frankfurt, Darmstadt, Breslau, Stettin, 1854; at Cologne, Hamburg, Riga, Prague, 1855; Munich, Vienna, 1858; Berlin, Dresden, 1859. The full score, and the Clavierauszug (by Th. Uhlig) were sold for a few hundred thalers to Breitkopf & Härtel, and published in 1852.
Wagner fitly closed the literary work of this period with the publication of a letter to the editor of the Neue Zeitschrift 'Ueber musicalische Kritik,' and of 'Eine Mittheilung an meine Freunde' (1852). Written simultaneously with 'Oper und Drama,' the latter production forms the preface to three operatic poems ('Holländer,' 'Tannhäuser,' and 'Lohengrin'); it is a fascinating piece of psychological autobiography, indispensable for a right knowledge of his character.
His magnum opus, 'Der Ring des Nibelungen' now occupied him entirely.
When I tried to dramatise the one important moment of the mythos of the Nibelungen in Siegfried's Tod, I found it necessary to indicate a vast number of antecedent facts so as to put the main incidents in the proper light. But I could only narrate these subordinate matters—whereas I felt it imperative that they should be embodied in the action. Thus I came to write Siegfried. But here again the same difficulty troubled me, Finally I wrote Die Walküre and Das Rheingold, and thus contrived to incorporate all that was needful to make the action tell its own tale.
The poem was privately printed early in 1853. 'During a sleepless night at an inn at Spezzia the music to 'Das Rheingold' occurred to me; straightway I turned homeward and set to work.' He advanced with astonishing rapidity. In May 1854 the score of 'Das Rheingold' was finished. In June he began 'Die Walküre,' and completed the composition all but the instrumentation during the winter 1854–55. The full score was finished in 1856. The first sketches of the music to 'Siegfried' belong to the autumn of 1854. In the spring of 1857 the full score of Act I of Siegfried, and of the larger part of Act II, was finished.
Up to this point there has been but few interruptions to the work, viz. rehearsals and performances of Tannhäuser at Zurich, Feb. 1855; an attack of erysipelas, May 1856; a prolonged visit from Liszt (at St. Gallen, Nov. 3, 1856, Wagner conducted the Eroica, and Liszt his Poèmes symphoniques, Orphée, and Les Préludes); and the eight concerts of the Philharmonic Society in London, March to June 1855.
In Jan, 1855, Mr. Anderson, one of the directors of the London Philharmonic Society, arrived at Zurich to invite Wagner to conduct the coming seasons' concerts. The society, it appeared, was at its wits' end for a conductor of reputation—Spohr could not come, Berlioz was re-engaged by the New Philharmonic, and it had occurred to the directors that Wagner might possibly be the man they were in want of. Mr. Davison, of the 'Times' and the 'Musical World,' and Mr. Chorley, of the 'Athenæum,' thought otherwise. Wagner arrived in London towards the end of February. The dates of the concerts he conducted are:—March 12 and 26, April 16 and 30, May 14 and 28, June 11 and 25, 1855.
A magnificent orchestra as far as the principal members go, Superb tone—the leaders had the finest instruments I ever heard—a strong esprit de corps—but no distinct style. The fact is the Philharmonic people—orchestra and audience—consumed more music than they could possibly digest. As a rule an hour's music takes several hours' rehearsal—how can any conductor with a few morning hours at his disposal be supposed to do justice to monster programmes such as the Directors put before me? two symphonies, two overtures, a concerto, and two or three vocal pieces at each concert! The Directors continuously referred me to what they chose to call the Mendelssohn traditions. But I suspect Mendelssohn had simply acquiesced in the traditional ways of the society. One morning when we began to rehearse the Léonora overture I was surprised; everything appeared dull, slovenly, inaccurate, as though the players were weary and had not slept for a week. Was this to be tolerated from the famous Philharmonic Orchestra? I stopped and addressed them in French, saying I knew what they could do and I expected them to do it. Some understood and translated—they were taken aback, but they knew I was right and took it goodhumouredly. We began again and the rehearsal passed off well. I have every reason to believe that the majority of the artists really got to like me before I left London.
Among the pieces he conducted were Beethoven's 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, and 9th Symphonies; Overture Leonora, no. 3, the 2nd PF. Concerto in B♭ and the Violin Concerto; Mozart's Symphonies in E♭ and C, and Overture Zauberflöte; Weber's Overtures Oberon, Freyschütz, Euryanthe, Ruler of the Spirits, and Preciosa; Mendelssohn's 'Italian' and 'Scotch' Symphonies, the Overtures 'Isles of Fingal,' and 'A Mid-summer Night's Dream, and the Violin Concerto; Spohr's Symphony in C minor, Potter's in G minor; the Overture to Tannhäuser (twice), and a selection from Lohengrin (Introduction, Bridal procession, Wedding music, and Epithalamium). He occupied rooms at 31 Milton Street, Dorset Square, and at 22 Portland Terrace, Regent's Park, at which latter address a large portion of the instrumentation to 'Die Walküre' was completed. Karl Klindworth who had settled in London the previous year, and with whom Wagner became intimate, now began his pianoforte scores of the Nibelungen.
Whilst at work upon Die Walküre (1854) the stories of 'Tristan und Isolde' and of 'Parsifal' had already taken possession of Wagner's mind, and the plan for Tristan was sketched. In the summer of 1857 he resolved to put aside Die Nibelungen and to proceed with Tristan. Various causes contributed to this resolution. He was tired 'of heaping one silent score upon the other,' tired of the monotony of the task too—if he lived to finish it, how should his colossal ​work ever be performed? He longed to hear something of his own, he had moreover pecuniary needs, which made it desirable that he should again write something that stood a chance of performance. Finally a curious incident concluded the matter. A soi disant agent of the Emperor of Brazil called: would Wagner compose an opera for an Italian troupe at Rio Janeiro? would he state his own terms, and promise to conduct the work himself? Much astonished, Wagner hesitated to give a decisive answer; but he forthwith began the poem to Tristan!
Wagner looked upon 'Tristan' as an accessory to the Nibelungen, inasmuch as it presents certain aspects of the mythical matter for which in the main work there was no room. He was proud of the poem, proud of the music:
{fine block|I readily submit this work to the severest test based on my theoretical principles. Not that I constructed it after a system for I entirely forgot all theory but because I here moved with entire freedom, independent of theoretical misgivings, so that even whilst I was writing I became conscious how far I had gone beyond my system. There can be no greater pleasure than an artist's perfect abandonment whilst composing—I have admitted no repetition of words in the music of Tristan—the entire extent of the music is as it were prescribed in the tissue of the verse—that is to say the melody (i.e. the vocal melody) is already contained in the poem, of which again the symphonic music forms the substratum.}}
The poem was finished early in 1857; in the winter of the same year the full score of the first act was forwarded to Breitkopf & Härtel to be engraved. The second act was written at Venice, where Wagner, with the permission of the Austrian authorities, had taken up his residence, and is dated Venice, March 2, 1859; the third, Lyons, August 1859. In connection with Tristan, attention must be called to the strong and lasting impression made upon Wagner's mind by the philosophical writings of Schopenhauer. Tristan represents the emotional kernel of Schopenhauer's view of life as reflected in the mind of a poet and a musician. Even in Die Meistersinger (Hans Sachs's monologue, Act III) there are traces of Schopenhauer, and the spirit of his Buddhistic quietism pervades Parsifal. The publication of Schopenhauer's 'Parerga und Paralipomena' in 1851 took the intellectual public of Germany by surprise, and roused a spirit of indignation against the official representatives of 'Philosophy' at the Universities and their journals, who had secreted Schopenhauer's 'Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung' (1818 and 1844). The little colony of refugees at Zurich was among the first to hail Schopenhauer's genius as a moralist. Wagner accepted his metaphysical doctrine, and in 1854 forwarded to Schopenhauer at Frankfurt a copy of Der Ring des Nibelungen as a token of 'thanks and veneration.' Wagner adhered to Schopenhauer's teaching to the end, and has even further developed some of its most characteristic and perhaps questionable phases. It will be seen in the sequel that Wagner had more trouble in connection with the performance of Tristan than with any other of his works. At first the difficulty was to get permission to return to Germany; even the solicitations of the Grand Dukes of Weimar and of Baden in his favour had no effect upon the court at Dresden. Projects for producing Tristan at Strassburg and Karlsruhe came to nothing.
Paris, In September 1859 (æt 46) Wagner again went to Paris, with a faint hope of producing his new work there with the help of German artists, or perhaps getting Tannhäuser or Lohengrin performed in French. M. Carvalho, director of the Théâtre-Lyrique, seemed inclined to risk Tannhäuser. 'Il avait témoigné a Wagner le désir de connaitre sa partition. Un soir, en arrivant chez lui Rue Matignon j'entends un vacarme inusité. Wagner etait au piano; il se débattait avec le formidable finale du second acte; il chantait, il criait, il se démenait, il jouait des mains, des poignets, du coude. M. Carvalho restait impassible, attendant avec une patience digne de l'antique que le sabbat fut fini. La partition achevée M. Carvalho balbutia quelques paroles de politesse, tourna les talons et disparut.' Determined to bring some of his music forward, Wagner made arrangements for three orchestral and choral concerts at the Théâtre Impérial Italien, Jan. 25, Feb. 1 and 8, 1860. The programme, consisting of the overture to Der Holländer, 4 pieces from Tannhäuser, the prelude to Tristan, and 3 numbers from Lohengrin, was thrice repeated. 'De nombreuses répétitions furent faites à la salle Herz, à la salle Beethoven, où H. de Bülow conduisait les chœurs.' 'Un parti tres-ardent, tres-actif, s'était formé autour de Wagner; les ennemis ne s'endormaient pas davantage, et il était évident que la bataille serait acharnée.' The performances conducted by Wagner made a great sensation—'Wagner avait réussi à passionner Paris, à dechaîner la presse'—but the expenses had been inordinate, and there was a deficit of something like £400. which he had to meet with part of the honorarium paid by Messrs. Schott for the copyright of Der Ring des Nibelungen. Two similar programmes were conducted by him at the Brussels Opera house in March 1860, also, it would seem, with unsatisfactory results.
Unexpected events, however, sprang from the exertions at Paris. 'Sur les instances pressantes de Mme. de Metternich, l'empereur avait ordonné la mise a l'étude de Tannhäuser a l'opéra.' A substantial success seemed at last within Wagner's reach. Preparations on a vast scale were begun. Edmond Roche and Ch. Nuitter translated the text; the management met every wish of Wagner's; sumptuous scenery and stage properties were prepared; Wagner was invited to choose his own singers, and to have as many rehearsals as he might think fit. He chose Niemann for Tannhäuser, Mlle. ​Saxe for Elisabeth, Mlle. Tedesco for Venus, Mlle. Reboux for the shepherd, Cazaux for the 'Landgraf,' and Morelli for Wolfram. The number of rehearsals, according to the official record, was 164:—73 at the pianoforte, 45 choral, 27 with the vocalists on the stage but without orchestra, 4 for scenic changes, and 14 full, with orchestra. The total costs appear to have amounted to something like £8000. Wagner entirely rewrote the opening scene in the Venusberg, and made a number of minor changes. On the advice of M. Villot (curateur des musées impériaux), he also published 'Quatre poemes d' operas traduits en prose française, précédés d'une lettre sur la musique,' giving a résumé of his aims and opinions. After numerous interruptions, misunderstandings and quarrels, including a complete rupture with the conductor Dietsch—the quondam chorusmaster and composer of 'Le Vaisseau fantôme,' who proved incompetent, and whom Wagner could not get rid of—the performances began March 13, 1861. 'Une cabale très-active, très-puissante, très-determinée, s'était organisée de bonne heure. Un certain nombre d'abonnés de l'opéra, qui savaient que la pièce n'avait pas de ballet,' etc.—The scandal need not be repeated here.—After the third performance Wagner withdrew his work.
The less said the better as to the complicated causes of the disaster. But it was a blow to me: everybody concerned had been paid per month; my share was to consist in the usual honorarium after each performance, and this was now cut short. So I left Paris with a load of debt, not knowing where to turn.—Apart from such things, however, my recollections of this distracting year are by no means unpleasant.
On Wednesday evenings the little house he inhabited with his wife in the rue Newton, near the Arc-de-Triomphe, welcomed many remarkable Parisians,—'c'est ainsi,' reports Gasperini, 'que j'ai vue M. Villot (to whom Wagner dedicated his 'Music of the Future'), Emile Ollivier, Mmme. Ollivier (Liszt's daughter), Jules Ferry, Léon Leroy; et Berlioz, et Champfleury, et Lorbac, et Baudelaire, etc.'
Princess Metternichs' enthusiasm had a further result: whilst at work upon the additions to Tannhäuser, permission arrived for Wagner 'to re-enter German states other than Saxony.' It was not till March 1862 (i.e. after thirteen years) that the ban was completely raised; and he got leave, in truly paternal phrase, 'to return to the kingdom of Saxony without fear of punishment.'
Return to Germany, 1861 (æt. 48). The disaster in Paris produced a strong reaction. Wagner was received with enthusiasm wherever he appeared. Yet the three years to come until 1864, when he was suddenly called to Munich, must be counted among the most distressing of his entire career. His hopes and prospects lay in a successful performance of Tristan, and all his efforts to bring about such a performance failed. At Vienna, after 57 rehearsals, Tristan was definitely shelved, owing to the incompetence, physical or otherwise, of the tenor Ander; at Karlsruhe, Prague and Weimar, the negotiations did not even lead to rehearsals. He found it impossible to make both ends meet, and had to seek a precarious subsistence by giving concerts. A few words will explain this strange state of things at a time when his works were so unmistakeably popular. The customary honorarium on the first performance of an opera in Germany varied from 10 to 50 or 60 Louis d'or (£8 to £48) according to the rank and size of the theatre. On every subsequent repetition the author's share consisted either of some little sum agreed upon or of a small percentage on the receipts—generally five per cent, occasionally seven—never more than ten per cent. As most German towns possess a theatre, a successful opera on its first round may produce a considerable amount; but afterwards the yield is small. It is impossible to run the same piece night after night at a court or town theatre, the prices of admission are always low, and the system of subscription per season or per annum tends to reduce the number of performances allowed to any single work.
My operas were to be heard right and left; but I could not live on the proceeds. At Dresden Tannhäuser and the Hollander had grown into favour; yet I was told that I had no claim with regard to them, since they were produced during my Capellmeistership, and a Hofcapellmeister in Saxony is bound to furnish an opera once a year! When the Dresden people wanted Tristan I refused to let them have it unless they agreed to pay for Tannhäuser. Accordingly they thought they could dispense with Tristan. Afterwards, when the public insisted upon Die Meistersinger, I got the better of them.
On May 15, 1861, Wagner heard Lohengrin for the first time at Vienna. Liszt and a large circle of musicians welcomed him at the Tonkünstler Versammlung at Weimar in August. His long-cherished plan of writing a comic opera was now taken up. He elaborated the sketch for 'Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg,' which dates from 1845, and was intended to be a comic pendant to the contest of Minnesingers in Tannhäuser. The poem was finished during a temporary stay at Paris in the winter of 1861–62. Messrs. Schott of Mayence secured the copyright, and the poem was printed in 1862 for private circulation. Wagner settled opposite Mayence at Biebrich-am-Rhein to proceed with the music. On the 1st November of the same year (1862) he appeared at a concert given by Wendelin Weissheimer in the Gewandhaus at Leipzig, to conduct the overture to Die Meistersinger. The writer, who was present, distinctly remembers the half-empty room, the almost complete absence of professional musicians, the wonderful performance, and the enthusiastic demand for a repetition, in which the members of the orchestra took part as much as the audience.
That curious concert at Leipzig was the first of a long series of such absurd undertakings to which my straitened means led me. At other towns the public at least appeared en masse, and I could record an artistic success; but it was not till I went to Russia that the pecuniary results were worth mentioning.
Dates of such concerts, at which he conducted Beethoven Symphonies, fragments of the Nibelungen and Die Meistersinger, etc., are Dec. 26, 1862, and first weeks in Jan. 1863, Vienna; Feb. 8, Prague; Feb. 19, March 6, 8, St. Petersburg; March, Moscow; July 23, 28, Pesth; Nov. 14, 19, Karlsruhe, and a few days later Löwenberg; Dec. 7, Breslau. Towards the end of Dec. 1863, at a concert of Carl Tausig's, he astonished the Viennese public with the true traditional reading of the overture to Der Freyschütz.'
In his 50th year (whilst living at Penzing near Vienna at work upon Die Meistersinger) Wagner published the poem to Der Ring des Nibelungen, 'as a literary product.' 'I can hardly expect to find leisure to complete the music, and I have dismissed all hope that I may live to see it performed.' His private affairs went from bad to worse. In the spring of 1864 his power of resistance was almost broken; he determined to give up his public career, and accepted an invitation to a country home in Switzerland.
Munich and Lucerne, 1864–1872 (æt. 51–56). The poem of Der Ring des Nibelungen, with its preface, must have got into the hands of the young King Ludwig II. of Bavaria. The King was acquainted with Beethoven's Symphonies, and in his 16th year had heard Lohengrin. One of the first acts of his reign was to despatch a private secretary to find Wagner, with the message, 'Come here and finish your work.' Wagner had already left Vienna in despair—had passed through Munich on his way to Zurich—and for some reason had turned about to Stuttgart. The secretary tracked and there found him. In May the Augsburger Allgemeine Zeitung brought the news that King Ludwig had allowed to the composer Richard Wagner a 'Sustentationsgehalt von 1200 Gulden aus der Kabinetscasse' (a stipend of about £100, from the privy purse). Here was relief at last. Wagner's hopes revived, his enthusiasm returned and redoubled.
My creditors were quieted, I could go on with my work,—and this noble young man's trust made me happy. There have been many troubles since—not of my making nor of his—but in spite of them I am free to this day and by his grace.' (1877.)
Cabals without end were speedily formed against Wagner—some indeed of a singularly disgraceful character; and he found it impossible to reside at Munich, although the King's favour and protection remained unaltered. There can be no doubt that the Nibelungen Ring would not have been completed, and that the idea of Bayreuth would not have come to any practical result (the exertions of the Wagner Societies notwithstanding) if it had not been for the steady support of the royal good wishes and the royal purse. It must suffice here to indicate the dates and events which are biographically interesting.
Wagner was naturalised as a Bavarian subject in 1864. He settled in Munich, and composed the 'Huldigungsmarsch' for a military band; at the King's request he wrote an essay, 'Ueber Staat und Religion,' and the report concerning a 'German music school to be established at Munich (March 31, 1865). In the autumn of 1864 he was formally commissioned to complete the Nibelungen; and, further to ease his pecuniary affairs, the stipend was increased, and a little house in the outskirts of Munich, 'bevor den Propylaen' was placed at his disposal. Dec. 4, 1864, the Holländer was given for the first time at Munich; Dec. 11, Jan. 1, and Feb. 1, 1865, Wagner conducted concerts there. In Jan. 1865 his friend Semper the architect, was consulted by the King about a theatre to be erected for the Nibelungen. With a view to the performance of Tristan, von Bülow was called to Munich, and under his direction, Wagner supervising, the work was performed, exactly as Wagner wrote it, on June 10, 1865, and repeated June 13 and 19 and July 1—Tristan, Ludwig Schnorr v. Carolsfeld; Isolde, Frau Schnorr. In July 1865 the old Conservatorium was closed by the King's orders, and a commission began to deliberate as to the means of carrying out Wagner's proposals for a new 'music school.' But nothing tangible came of this; owing, it would seem, to ill-will on the part of Franz Lachner and other Munich musicians, and also, as was alleged, to the insufficiency of the available funds. In December 1865 Wagner left Munich and settled, after a short stay at Vevey and Geneva, at Triebschen near Lucerne, where he remained with little change until he removed to Bayreuth in April 1872. At Triebschen, the Meistersinger was completed (full score finished Oct. 20, 1867), twenty-two years after the first sketches! (see ante). Hans Richter arrived there in Oct. 1866 to copy the score, and the sheets were at once sent off to Mayence to be engraved.
The 'Meistersinger' was performed at Munich, under von Bülow (H. Richter chorusmaster), Wagner personally supervising everything, on June 21, 1868—Eva, Frl. Mallinger; Magdalena, Frau Dietz; Hans Sachs, Betz; Walther, Nachbauer; David, Schlosser; Beckmesser, Hölzel—a perfect performance; the best that has hitherto been given of any work of the master's, Parsifal at Bayreuth not excepted.
Before Wagner had quite done with the Meistersinger he published a series of articles in the 'Süddeutsche Presse' (one of the chief editors of which was his former Dresden colleague Musikdirektor Aug. Roeckel) entitled 'Deutsche Kunst und Deutsche Politik.'
During the quiet residence at Triebschen, the unfinished portion of The Ring progressed ​steadily. Early in 1869 the instrumentation of the third Act of Siegfried was completed, and the composition of the Vorspiel and first Act of Götterdämmerung finished, June 1870.
Aug. 25, 1870, is the date of Wagner's marriage to Cosima von Bülow née Liszt; his first wife, Minna Wagner, having died Jan. 25, 1866; after close upon 25 years of married life she had retired to Dresden in 1861.
1869 he published 'Ueber das Dirigiren' in the Neue Zeitschrift fur Musik. 'Beethoven' appeared in September 1870, during the Franco-Prussian War. The King's plan to build a special theatre for the Nibelungen Ring at Munich being abandoned, Wagner fixed upon Bayreuth.
Bayreuth (1872). The municipality of this little Franconian town did its best to further Wagner's objects; he left Triebschen and settled there in April, and on his 60th birthday May 22, 1872, he was able to celebrate the foundation of his theatre with a magnificent performance of Beethoven's Choral Symphony and his own Kaisermarsch. A large portion of the funds was got together by private subscription. The sum originally estimated, 300,000 thalers (£45,000), was to be raised in accordance with Carl Tausig's plan upon 1000 'Patronatsscheine,' i.e. 1000 certificates of patronage, each entitling the holder to a seat at the three complete performances contemplated. [See Tausig, vol. iv. p. 64.] A considerable number of these were taken up before Tausig's death; then Emil Heckel of Mannheim suggested 'Wagner Societies,' and started one himself. It appeared at once that all over Germany there were numbers of people who were ready to contribute their share of work and money, but to whom individually the 300 thalers asked for by Tausig would have been impossible. Societies sprang up on all sides—not only in German towns, but in the most unexpected quarters—St. Petersburg, Warsaw, New York, Amsterdam, Brussels, Paris, Stockholm, Cairo, Milan, London, etc.
In connection with the efforts of the societies, Wagner conducted concerts at Mannheim, Vienna, Hamburg, Schwerin, Berlin, Cologne, etc. In Nov. 1874 the instrumentation of Götterdämmerung was completed; and preliminary rehearsals with the vocalists had already produced satisfactory results. The ensemble rehearsals, with full orchestra, in the summer of 1875 under Hans Richter (Wagner always present) left no doubt as to the possibility of a performance in exact accordance with the master's intentions. The scenery and stage-machinery promised well, and the effects of sonority in the auditorium proved excellent.
It had at first been a matter of some doubt whether the invisible orchestra would answer for the more subtle effects of orchestration; but it turned out eventually that all details were perfectly audible; and, moreover, that certain shortcomings of our customary orchestra-arrangements had been removed. Flutes, oboes, clarinets, and bassoons were heard more distinctly, and the explosive blare which ordinarily seems inseparable from a sudden forte of trumpets and trombones, was less apparent. It may be well here to record the disposition of the Nibelungen orchestra:—conductor (quite invisible from the auditorium) facing the orchestra and the stage; to left of him, 1st violins; to right, 2nd violins; violas near violins; violoncellos and basses flanking to left and right; in the middle of the orchestra, somewhat nearer the stage, the wood-winds; behind these again, partially under the stage, the brass and percussion instruments. Total, exclusive of conductor, 114.
A notion of the auditorium may be gained by fancying a wedge, the thin end of which is supposed to touch the back of the stage, the thick end the back of the auditorium; the seats arranged in a slight curve, each row further from the stage raised a little above the one in front of it, and the several seats so placed that every person seated can look at the stage between the heads of two persons before him; all seats directly facing the stage; no side boxes or side galleries, no prompter's box. Total number of seats 1,500; a little over 1,000 for the patrons, the rest, about 500, for distribution gratis to young musicians, etc.
In November and December 1875 Wagner superintended rehearsals of Tannhäuser and Lohengrin at Vienna, which were performed, 'without cuts,' on Nov. 22 and Dec. 15. Tristan also under his supervision, was given at Berlin on March 20, 1876.
At last, 28 years after its first conception—on Aug. 13, 14, 16, 17, again from 20–23, and from 27–30, 1876—Der Ring des Nibelungen was performed entire at Bayreuth. Wotan, Betz; Loge, Vogel; Alberich, Hill; Mime, Schlosser; Fricka, Frau Grün; Donner and Gunther, Gura; Erda and Waltraute, Frau Jaïde; Siegmund, Niemann; Sieglinde, Frl. Schefzky; Brünnhilde, Frau Materna; Siegfried, Unger; Hagen, Siehr; Gutrune, Frl. Weckerlin; Rheintöchter, Frl. Lili and Marie Lehman and Frl. Lammert. Leader of strings, Wilhelmj; Conductor, Hans Richter. From a musical point of view the performances were correct throughout—in many instances of surpassing excellence; sundry short-comings on the stage were owing more to want of money than to anything else. In spite of the sacrifices readily made by each and all of the artists concerned, there was a heavy deficit, £7500, the responsibility for which pressed upon Wagner. He had hoped to be able to repeat the performances in the following summer; this proved impossible, and his efforts to discharge the debts of the theatre failed for the most part. The largest of these efforts, the so-called Wagner Festival at the Albert Hall in London, 1877, came near to involving him in further difficulties.
London, May 1877. Herr Wilhelmj believed that a series of concerts on a large scale under Wagner's personal supervision would pay; but the sequel proved all too clearly that ​his acquaintance with the ins and outs of musical matters in London was superficial. Messrs. Hodge and Essex of Argyll Street acted as 'entrepreneurs.' The Albert Hall was chosen, and six prodigious programmes were advertised for the 7th, 9th, 12th, 14th, 16th and 19th May. Copious extracts, of his own making, from all his works were to represent and illustrate Wagner as poet and composer: selections from Rienzi, the Holländer, Tannhäuser, Lohengrin, Meistersinger, Tristan, in the first part of the programmes; and from Der Ring des Nibelungen in the second part. An orchestra of 170 (wood-winds double) and several of the singers who had taken leading parts at Bayreuth (Frau Materna, Frau Grün, Herren Hill, Schlosser, Unger), besides sundry subordinates, were engaged; Wagner himself was to conduct the first half of each programme, and Hans Richter the second. The expenditure for advertisements and salaries to vocalists was lavish; the attendance, though always large, nothing like what had been anticipated; the result of the six concerts, a difficulty in making both ends meet. Thereupon the 'undertakers' were persuaded to try again: that is, to give two further concerts (May 28 and 29) with a minimum of expenditure all round, reduced prices, and programmes made up of the most telling pieces. This saved the venture, and enabled Wagner to forward a little over £700 to Bayreuth. After his departure, and without his knowledge, an attempt was made to get up a testimonial. A considerable sum was speedily subscribed, but before it reached him 'another way out of the difficulty had been found' viz. that the honorarium and tantièmes to come from performances of The Ring at Munich should be set aside to cover the debt of the Bayreuth theatre—and the promoters of the testimonial had the satisfaction of returning the contributions with a warm letter of thanks from Wagner 'to his English friends.' During this third residence in London (April 30 to June 4) Wagner resided at 12 Orme Square, Bayswater.
'Erinnerungen,' he wrote from Ems on June 39, 'so weit sie sich nicht auf die Ausübung meiner kleinen Kunstfertigkeiten beziehen, herrlich.' The expression 'kleine Kunstfertigkeiten' (little artistic attainments) was a hint at his conducting at the Albert Hall, which had been a good deal commented upon. Was Wagner really a great conductor? There can be no doubt that he was; particularly with regard to the works of Weber and Beethoven. His perfect sympathy with these led him to find the true tempi as it were by intuition. He was thoroughly at home in the orchestra, though he had never learnt to play upon any orchestral instrument. He had an exquisite sense for beauty of tone, nuances of tempo, precision and proportion of rhythm. His beat was distinct, and his extraordinary power of communicating his enthusiasm to the executants never failed. The writer was present at one of the great occasions when he appeared as conductor—the rehearsals and performance of the Ninth Symphony at Bayreuth, May 22, 1872—and felt that for spirit, and perfection of phrasing, it was the finest musical performance within the whole range of his experience. But at the Albert Hall Wagner did not do himself justice. His strength was already on the wane. The rehearsals fatigued him, and he was frequently faint in the evening. His memory played him tricks, and his beat was nervous. Still there were moments when his great gifts appeared as of old. Those who witnessed his conducting of the 'Kaisermarsch' at the first rehearsal he attended (May 5) will never forget the superb effect.
Wagner brought the manuscript of the poem of 'Parsifal' with him to London, and read it for the first time entire to a circle of friends at Orme Square (May 17). It was published in Dec. 1877.
A plan for a sort of school for the performance of classical orchestral music, together with classical operas, and ultimately of his own works at Bayreuth, came to nothing. Greatly against his wish he was obliged to permit Der Ring des Nibelungen to take its chance at the German theatres. The first number of 'Bayreuther Blätter,' a monthly periodical edited by Herr von Wolzogen and published by and for the Wagner Verein, appeared in January 1878. Wagner, whilst at work upon Parsifal, found time to contribute a delightful series of essays: 'Was ist Deutsch?' 'Modern'; 'Publikum und Popularität'; 'Das Publikum in Zeit und Raum' 1878; 'Wollen wir hoffen?' 'Ueber das Dichten und Komponiren'; 'Ueber das Opern-Dichten und Komponiren im Besonderen'; 'Ueber die Anwendung der Musik auf das Drama,' 1879.—A more elaborate work, a sort of comment upon the ethical and religious doctrine of Parsifal, 'Religion und Kunst,' with its sequel, 'Was nutzt diese Erkenntniss?' 'Erkenne dich selbst,' and 'Heldenthum und Christenthum' (1880–81), he did not live to finish—a fragment only of the concluding part was written in 1883. It is given under the heading 'Ueber das Weibliche im Menschlichen,' in a posthumous publication, 'Entwürfe, Gedanken, Fragmente, aus nachgelassene Papieren zusammengestellt' (Leipzig, Sept. 1885), pp. 125–129.
Wagner began the music to Parsifal in his sixty-fifth year. The sketch of the first act was completed early in the spring of 1878, and the greater part of the second act by the middle of June (completed on Oct. 11); the third act was begun after Christmas, and completed ​April 1879. Towards the end of the year his old enemy erysipelas re-appeared in a severe form, and he sought relief in Southern Italy. The instrumentation to 'Parsifal' was continued (the Vorspiel had already been performed privately, by the Meiningen orchestra under Wagner, at Bayreuth, Christmas, 1878), and was finished during the next winter's sojourn in the south, at Palermo, Jan. 13, 1882.
In July and August, 1882—six years after Der Ring des Nibelungen—16 performances of 'Parsifal,' everything under Wagner's supervision, were given; the artists alternating—Parsifal, Winkelmann, Gudehus, Jäger; Kundry, Frau Materna, Frl. Brandt, Frl. Malten; Gurnemanz, Scaria, Siehr; Amfortas, Reichman, Fuchs; Klingsor, Hill, Degele, Plank. Conductors, H. Levi and Franz Fischer. The work was repeated in 1883 and 1884, and is announced to be given again in the summer of 1886. [App. p.814 "for is announced to be given again, etc. read was repeated in 1886 and 1888."]
During the residence at Venice (Palazzo Vendramini on the Grand Canal) in the autumn and winter of 1882–83, the state of Wagner's health was not satisfactory, though no unusual symptoms appeared. He wrote for the Bayreuther Blätter; and was strong enough to rehearse and conduct a private performance of his Symphony in C (mentioned above, p. 348) at the Liceo Marcello on Christmas Eve.—Late in the afternoon of Feb. 13, 1883, the great heart suddenly ceased to beat.—On Feb. 18 the body was laid in the little ivy-covered vault he had built long ago at Bayreuth in a retired spot of the garden at the rear of his house 'Wahnfried.'
Apart from a host of letters, and the 'Lebenserinnerungen,' an autobiography covering fully two-thirds of his life, there are no MS. literary remains of importance. Reports of his having read or recited scenes from the poem to a Buddhistic drama 'Die Sieger,' or 'Die Büsser,' intended to follow Parsifal, rest upon vague hearsay. The fact is simply that in 1856–57 he came across a story in Burnouf's 'Introduction à l'histoire du Buddhisme' which interested him, and that he took note of the leading incidents with a view to dramatic treatment; but the plan was never matured, and what little of it had taken shape in his mind was incorporated in Parsifal. For a short sketch of 'Die Sieger,' dated 'Zürich, 16 Mai, 1856,' see 'Richard Wagner—Entwürfe, Gedanken, Fragmente' (Leipzig 1885), pp. 97, 98. Cancelled articles, and unpublished musical works of early date will be found enumerated in the chronological lists, p. 373a.
Wagner disliked sitting for his portrait, so that of the numerous likenesses current, few are at first hand. Two excellent paintings exist: one, by Prof. Lenbach (with the old German cap), is now at Bayreuth; the other, by Mr. Hubert Herkomer (1877), is at the German Athenæum, London (replica at Bayreuth). A bust (æt. 28) by Kietz, of Dresden (a pupil of Delaroche's whom Wagner met in Paris in 1840–41), is also of interest (at Bayreuth); the portrait sketch for it was reproduced in the 'Zeitung für die elegante Welt,' 1842, where it accompanied the 'Autobiographische Skizze,' (See ante, p. 353.) The best photographs are (1) a large half-length published in the revised edition of the 'Clavierauszug' of Tannhäuser (Berlin, Fürstner); (2) full-length profile (rare), æt. 52. seated at a table reading, a dog at his feet (Munich, Hanfstängl); (3) carte and cabinet sizes (æt. 64), (Elliot & Fry, London, 1877).
Like Beethoven, Wagner was slightly under middle height, well built, quick in movement, speech, and gesture. His carriage was usually erect, his aspect commanding, and he made the impression of being somewhat taller than he actually was. After the political disturbances of 1849, when he was 'wanted' by the Saxon police, the following 'Signalement' was issued. Wagner is 37 to 38 years old, of middle height, has brown hair, wears glasses; open forehead; eyebrows brown; eyes grey-blue; nose and mouth well proportioned; chin round. Particulars: in moving and speaking he is hasty. Clothing: surtout of dark green buckskin, trousers of black cloth, velvet waistcoat, silk neckerchief, the usual felt hat and boots.' Like Beethoven, too, he at once made the impression of an original and powerful individuality. The fascination of his talk and his ways increased on acquaintance. When roused to speak of something that interested him he looked what he meant, and his rich voice gave a musical effect to his words. His presence in any circle apparently dwarfed the surroundings. His instinctive irrepressible energy, self-assertion, and incessant productivity went hand in hand with simple kindness, sympathy, and extreme sensitiveness. Children liked to be near him. He had no pronounced manners, in the sense of anything that can be taught or acquired by imitation. Always unconventional, his demeanour showed great refinement. His habits in private life are best described as those of a gentleman. He liked domestic comforts, had an artist's fondness for rich colour, harmonious decoration, out-of-the-way furniture, well-bound books and music, etc. The good things of this world distinctly attracted him, but nothing could be further from the truth than the reports about his ways and tastes current in German newspapers. The noble and kindly man as his friends knew him, and the aggressive critic and reformer addressing the public, were as two distinct individuals. Towards the public and the world of actors, singers, musicians, his habitual attitude was one of defiance. He appeared on the point of losing his temper, showed impatience and irritation, and seemed to delight in tearing men and things to pieces. His violence often stood in the way of his being heard; indeed he has not yet been heard properly, either on questions of art so near and dear to him, or on questions further off regarding things political, social, or religious. It has been said with much truth that wherever Wagner was brought to a stand a social problem lies buried; hitherto, however, it is only his vehement protestations that have attracted attention, whilst most of the problems, social or religious, ​remain unsolved. Regarding the state of music and the theatre in Germany, those who have access to the facts can account for a large part of his excitement and irritation. One has but to remember that from his eighteenth year onwards his life was mixed up with that most equivocal institution the German Opern-theater. As a professional conductor, and subsequently as the recipient of tantièmes (percentage on the receipts)—for a long time his sole source of income—he could not afford to break the connection. Here the idealist, the passionate poet, there the opera and the operetta. How could the most disastrous misunderstandings fail to arise? The composer of 'Tristan' confronted by the Intendant of some Hoftheater, fresh from a performance of Herr v. Flotow's 'Martha'! A comic picture, but unfortunately a typical one, implying untold suffering on Wagner's part. Moreover he, the most irritable of men, impatient and fretting in his false position, was for years the object of personal attacks in the press, the 'best abused' man in Europe, the object of wilful misrepresentation and calumny—'it was like having to walk against the wind with sand and grit and foul odours blowing in one's face.'
All his life long Wagner was a great reader. 'Whatever is worth reading is worth re-reading,' he said. Thus, though never a systematic student, or even a good linguist (which as regards Greek he greatly regretted), he nevertheless became thoroughly familiar with all he cared for, and his range was a very wide one. He retained whatever touched him sympathetically, and could depend upon his memory. The classics he habitually read in translations. With Shakespeare (in German of course) he was as familiar as with Beethoven. To hear him read an act or a scene was a delight never to be forgotten. The effect, to use his own words about Shakespeare, was that of 'an improvisation of the highest poetical value.' When in particularly good spirits, he would take up a comic scene and render it with the exuberant merriment of a child. A list of the principal books in the extensive and very choice library at Bayreuth would give a fair idea of his literary tastes, for he kept nothing by him that was not in some way connected with his intellectual existence. The handiest shelves held Sanscrit, Greek, and Roman classics; Italian writers, from Dante to Leopardi; Spanish, English, French dramatists; philosophers from Plato to Kant and Schopenhauer. A remarkably complete collection of French and German mediæval poems and stories, Norse Sagas, etc., together with the labours of German and French philologists in those departments, occupied a conspicuous position; history and fiction old and new were well represented; translations of Scott, Carlyle, etc., etc.
In a Dictionary of Music it would be out of place to speak of Wagner's power as a poet or as a writer on matters foreign to music. All that can be done is to point out the leading features of his practice and theory as a musical dramatist. We may begin with his theoretical productions, premising merely that in his case, as in that of other men who have had new things to say, and found new ways of saying them, Practice goes before Theory; artistic instincts lead the way, and criticism acts in support and defence.
II. Broadly stated, Wagner's aim is Reform of the Opera from the standpoint of Beethoven's music.
Can the modern spirit produce a theatre that shall stand in relation to modern culture as the theatre of Athens stood to the culture of Greece? This is the central question, the multifaced problem he set himself to solve.—Whether he touches upon minor points connected with it; speaks of the mode of performance of a play or an opera; proposes measures of reform in the organisation of existing theatres; discusses the growth of operatic music up to Mozart and Weber, or of instrumental music up to Beethoven; treats of the efforts of Schiller and Goethe to discover an ideal form for their dramatic poems: whether he sweeps round the problem in wide circles, comparing modern, social, and religious institutions with ancient, and seeking free breathing space for his artistic ideals, he arrives at results tending in the same direction—his final answer is in the affirmative. Starting from the vantage of symphonic music, he asserts that we may hope to rise to the level of Greek tragedy: our theatre can be made to embody our ideal of life. From the Opera at its best a Drama can be evolved that shall express the vast issues and complex relations of modern life and thought, as the Greek stage expressed the life and thought of Greece.
The theatre is the centre of popular culture. For good or for evil it exerts the chief influence—from it the arts, as far as they affect the people, take their cue. Practically its power is unlimited. But who wields this power? for what ends, and for whom is it wielded! Wagner's experience in Germany and in Paris furnished an answer. He had found corruption in every direction. In front of the scenes, the stolid Gennan Philistine, or the bored Parisian roué clamouring for novelty, athirst for excitement; behind the scenes, confusion and anarchy, sham enthusiasm, labour without aim or faith—the pretence, art; the true end, money. Looking from the German stage to the German public, from the public to the nation, the case appeared hopeless, unless some violent change should upset the social fabric.—A hasty, and as it proved, mistaken diagnosis of the political situation in Germany in 1849 led Wagner to become a revolutionnaire for art's sake. Leaving the politics of the day to take care of themselves, he endeavoured to set forth his artistic ideals. In 'Die Kunst und die Revolution' (Art and Revolution) he points to the theatre of Æschylus and Sophocles, searches for the causes of its decline, and finds them identical with the causes that led to the decline ​of the ancient state itself. An attempt is then made to discover the principles of a new social organisation that might bring about a condition of things in which proper relations between art and public life might be expected to revive.
This pamphlet was followed by an elaborate treatise, 'Das Kunstwerk der Zukunft' (The Artwork of the Future), which occupied him for several months. The first edition (1850) begins with a dedicatory letter to Ludwig Feuerbach (since cancelled), in which the author returns enthusiastic thanks for the instruction afforded by that philosopher's works. Unfortunately Wagner was tempted to adopt Feuerbach's terminology, and to use it in a sense of his own. The result is bewildering, and the book, though rich in matter, warm in style, and well worth reading, is in every respect, difficult. The main argument, as far as art is concerned, might be sketched as follows:—Poetry, mimetics, and music were united in the drama of the Greeks; the drama disappeared with the downfall of the Athenian State; the union of the arts was dissolved, each had an existence of its own, and at times sank to the level of a mere pastime. Attempts made during the renaissance, and since, to reunite the arts, were more or less abortive, though the technique and the width of range of most of the arts increased. In our day each 'separate branch of art' has reached its limits of growth, and cannot overstep them without incurring the risk of becoming incomprehensible, fantastic, absurd. At this point each art demands to be joined to a sister art—poetry to music, mimetics to both; each will be ready to forego egotistical pretensions for the sake of an 'artistic whole,' and the musical drama may become for future generations what the drama of Greece was to the Greeks.
Wagner's next work, 'Opera and Drama' (his principal critical and theoretical production) contains little of the revolutionary and pseudophilosophical ferment. It was originally issued in three parts: 1. containing a quasi-historical criticism of the opera; 2. a survey of the spoken drama; 3. an attempt to unite the results obtained, and to construct the theory of the musical drama. To us who have witnessed the Nibelungen and Tristan, the entire book is easy reading; even the third and concluding part is readily intelligible and of very great interest. A generation ago, however, the case was different; especially with regard to the third, and in the author's eyes the most important part, which consists, in the main, of abstract statements about the new departure in art, the relation of verse to music, the function of the orchestra, etc.—Wagner could not illustrate and support his assertions by concrete examples; he thus laid himself open to misunderstanding, and was misunderstood indeed! Part the Second abounds in acute observations on the elements of the dramatist's art, with copious references to Shakespeare, Schiller, and Goethe. It seems to have attracted the attention of students of literature here and there, but on the whole it fell flat. The First part, however, caused a disturbance in the musical world such as had not occurred since the paper war between the Gluckists and Piccinists. It is sufficiently evident now that it was not the propositions seriously put forward, nor the brilliant literary powers displayed, that attracted attention. People were, or pretended to be, scandalised by the references to living composers, the biting satire, the fierce attack on Meyerbeer, etc. But Wagner's name was henceforth in everybody's mouth.
The course of musical history has already in so large a measure confirmed and endorsed Wagner's opinions regarding the opera, that a short résumé will answer the present purpose. The thesis of 'Oper und Drama' is as follows:—In the opera the means of expression (music) have been taken for the sole aim and end, while the true aim (the drama) has been neglected for the sake of particular musical forms.—The dramatic cantata of Italy is the root of the opera. The scenic arrangements and the action formed the pretext for the singing of arias, i.e. people's songs artistically arranged. The composer's task consisted in writing arias of the accepted type to suit his subject or to suit this or that vocalist. When the ballet was added to the conglomerate of airs, it was the composer's business to reproduce the popular dance-forms. The airs were strung together by means of recitatives, mostly conventional. The ballet tunes were simply placed side by side. Gluck's reform in the main consisted in his energetic efforts to place his music in more direct rapport with the action. He modified the melody in accordance with the inflections and accents of the language employed. He put a stop to the exhibition of mere vocal dexterity, and forced his singers to become the spokesmen of his dramatic intentions. But as regards the form of his musical pieces (and this is the cardinal point) he left the opera as he found it. The entire work remains a congeries of recitatives, arias, choruses, dance-tunes, just as before. Gluck's librettists furnished words for airs, etc., in which the action was not lost sight of; but it was considered to be of secondary importance. Gluck's great successors, Méhul, Cherubini, Spontini, cultivated the dramatic musical ensemble, and thus got rid of the incessant monologue which the arias of the elder opera had necessitated. This was an important step forward, and in essential matters the development of the opera is therewith at an end. For, although Mozart produced richer and more beautiful music than Gluck, there can be no doubt that the factors of Mozart's opera are essentially those of Gluck's. Subsequently, in the hands of Weber and Spohr, Rossini, Bellini, Auber, Meyerbeer, etc., the history of the opera is the history of the transformation of 'operatic melody.'
Subject and form in the spoken drama are investigated in the Second Part. With regard to subject Wagner traces two distinct factors; ​first the mediæval romance and its offspring the modern novel; secondly the Greek drama, or rather the formal essence thereof as given by Aristotle in his Poetics. He points to the plays of Shakespeare as being for the most part dramatised stories, and to those of Racine as constructed on the lines of Aristotle. In the course of the argument, the works of Schiller and Goethe are examined, and the conclusion is arrived at that historical subjects present special difficulties to the dramatist. 'The modern stage appeals to our sensuous perceptions rather than to the imagination.' Thus, Schiller was overburdened with the mass of historical facts in his Wallenstein; whereas 'Shakespeare, appealing to the spectator's imagination, would have represented the entire thirty years war in the time occupied by Schiller's trilogy.' An interesting parallel is drawn between the rhetorical art of Racine and Gluck's opera. Racine puts forward the motives for action, and the effects of it, without the action proper. 'Gluck's instincts prompted him to translate Racine's tirade into the aria.' In view of the difficulties experienced by Goethe and Schiller in their efforts to fuse historical matter and poetic form, Wagner asserts that mythical subjects are best for an ideal drama, and that music is the ideal language in which such subjects are best presented. In the Third part he shows that it is only the wonderfully rich development of music in our time, totally unknown to earlier centuries, which could have brought about the possibility of a musical drama such as he has in view. The conclusions arrived at in 'Oper und Drama' are again discussed in his lecture 'On the destiny of the Opera,' where particular stress is laid on the fact that music is the informing element of the new drama. Further statements regarding the main heads of the argument of the concluding part of 'Oper und Drama,' and of the lecture 'Ueber die Bestimmung der Oper,' will be found incorporated later on in this article, where details as to Wagner's method and practice as playwright and musician are given.
Nineteen years after his 'Oper und Drama' Wagner published 'Beethoven' (1870). This work contains his contributions towards the metaphysics of music, if indeed such can be said to exist. It is based on Schopenhauer's view of music; which that philosopher candidly admitted to be incapable of proof, though it satisfied him. Wagner accepts it and supplements it with quotations from Schopenhauer's 'Essay on Visions and matters connected therewith,' a which contains equally problematic matter. Apart, however, from metaphysics, the work is an 'exposition of the author's thoughts on the significance of Beethoven's music.' It should be read attentively.
One of the finest of his minor publications, and to a professional musician perhaps the most instructive, is 'Ueber das Dirigiren' (On Conducting), a treatise on style; giving his views as to the true way of rendering classical music, with minute directions how to do it and how not to do it, together with many examples in musical type from the instrumental works of Beethoven, Weber, Mozart, etc.
'Zum Vortrag der 9ten Symphonie,' is of great interest to students of instrumentation.
The general reader will be interested in Wagner's smaller essays and articles: 'Zukunftsmusik,' 'Ueber die Bestimmung der Oper,' 'Ueber das Dichten und Komponiren,' 'Ueber das Opern-Dichten und Komponiren im Besonderen,'—and especially in his graphic 'Erinnerungen,' recollections of contemporaries, Spohr, Spontini, Rossini, Auber. Three of the latter are excerpts from his 'Lebenserinnerungen'—apparently improvisations, showing the master-hand in every touch, valuable for their width of range and exquisite fidelity. Intending readers had better begin with these and 'Ueber das Dirigiren.'
III. Regarding Wagner's weight and value as a musician it is enough to state that his technical powers, in every direction in which a dramatic composer can have occasion to show them, were phenomenal. He does not make use of Bach's forms, nor of Beethoven's; but this has little if anything to do with the matter. Surely Bach would salute the composer of 'Die Meistersinger' as a contrapuntist, and the poet-composer of the 'Eroica' and the 'Pastorale' would greet the author of 'Siegfried' and of 'Siegfrieds Tod.' Wagner is best compared with Beethoven. Take Schumann's saying, ' you must produce bold, original and beautiful melodies,' as a starting-point, and supplement it with 'you must also produce bold and beautiful harmonies, modulations, contrapuntal combinations, effects of instrumentation.' Let excerpts be made under these heads from Beethoven's mature works, and a similar number of examples be culled from 'Die Meistersinger,' 'Tristan,' and the 'Nibelungen'—could it be doubtful that the aspect of such lists would be that of a series of equivalents? and as for originality, who can study the score of 'Tristan' and find it other than original from the first bar to the last?
Wagner's musical predilections may, perhaps, be best shown by a reference to the works that were his constant companions, and by a record of a few of his private sayings. Everyday friends, household words with him, were Beethoven's Quartets, Sonatas, and Symphonies; Bach's 'Wohltemperirtes Clavier'; Mozart's 'Zauberflöte,' 'Entführung,' 'Figaro,' and 'Don Juan'; Weber's 'Freyschütz,' and 'Euryanthe"; and Mozart's Symphonies in E♭, G minor, and C. He was always ready to point out the beauties of these works, and inexhaustible in supporting his assertions with quotations from them.
Give me Beethoven's quartets and sonatas for intimate communion, his overtures and symphonies for public performance. I look for homogeneity of materials, and equipoise of means and ends. Mozart's music and Mozart's orchestra are a perfect match: ​an equally perfect balance exists between Palestrina's choir and Palestrina's counterpoint; and I find a similar correspondence between Chopin's piano and some of his Etudes and Preludes.—I do not care for the 'Ladies'-Chopin,' there is too much of the Parisian salon in that; but he has given us many things which are above the salon.
Schumann's peculiar treatment of the pianoforte grates on my ear: there is too much blur; you cannot produce his pieces unless it be mit obligatem pedal. What a relief to hear a sonata of Beethoven's! In early days I thought more would come of Schumann. His Zeitschrift was brilliant, and his pianoforte works showed great originality. There was much ferment, but also much real power, and many bits are quite unique and perfect. I think highly, too, of many of his songs, though they are not as great as Schubert's. He took pains with his declamation—no small merit a generation ago. Later on I saw a good deal of him at Dresden; but then already his head was tired, his powers on the wane. He consulted me about the text to 'Genoveva,' which he was arranging from Tieck's and Hebbel's plays, yet he would not take my advice—he seemed to fear some trick.
Mendelssohn's overture, 'The Hebrides,' was a prime favourite of Wagner's, and he often asked for it at the piano.
Mendelssohn was a landscape-painter of the first order, and the 'Hebriden' Overture is his masterpiece. Wonderful imagination and delicate feeling are here presented with consummate art. Note the extraordinary beauty of the passage where the oboes rise above the other instruments with a plaintive wail like sea-winds over the seas. 'Meeresstille und glückliche Fahrt' also is beautiful; and I am very fond of the first movement of the Scotch Symphony. No one can blame a composer for using national melodies when he treats them so artistically as Mendelssohn has done in the Scherzo of this Symphony. His second themes, his slow movements generally, where the human element comes in, are weaker. As regards the overture to 'A Midsummer Night's Dream,' it must be taken into account that he wrote it at seventeen; and how finished the form is already! etc.
Schubert has produced model songs, but that is no reason for us to accept his pianoforte sonatas or his ensemble pieces as really solid work, no more than we need accept Weber's songs, his Pianoforte Quartet, or the Trio with a flute, because of his wonderful operas. Schumann's enthusiasm for Schubert's trios and the like was a mystery to Mendelssohn. I remember Mendelssohn speaking to me of the note of Viennese bonhommie (bürgerliche Behäbigkeit) which runs through those things of Schubert's. Curiously enough Liszt still likes to play Schubert. I cannot account for it; that Divertissement à la Hongroise verges on triviality, no matter how it is played.
I am not a learned musician; I never had occasion to pursue antiquarian researches; and periods of transition did not interest me much. I went straight from Palestrina to Bach, from Bach to Gluck and Mozart—or, if you choose, along the same path backwards. It suited me personally to rest content with the acquaintance of the principal men, the heroes and their main works.—For aught I know this may have had its drawbacks any way, my mind has never been stuffed with 'music in general.' Being no learned person I have not been able to write to order. Unless the subject absorbs me completely I cannot produce twenty bars worth listening to.
The latter part of this was said after a performance of the 'Centennial, Philadelphia, march' at the Albert Hall (1877), and that march was the case in point.
In instrumental music I am a Réactionnaire, a conservative. I dislike everything that requires a verbal explanation beyond the actual sounds. For instance, the middle of Berlioz's touching scene d'amour in his 'Romeo and Juliet' is meant by him to reproduce in musical phrases the lines about the lark and the nightingale in Shakspeare's balcony-scene, but it does nothing of the sort—it is not intelligible as music. Berlioz added to, altered, and spoilt his work. This so-called Symphonie dramatique of Berlioz's as it now stands is neither fish nor flesh—strictly speaking it is no symphony at all. There is no unity of matter, no unity of style. The choral recitatives, the songs and other vocal pieces have little to do with the instrumental movements. The operatic finale, Pére Laurent especially, is a failure. Yet there are beautiful things right and left. The convoi funèbre is very touching, and a masterly piece. So, by the way, is the offertoire of the Requiem. The opening theme of the scéne d'amour is heavenly; the garden scene and fete at the Capulets' enormously clever: indeed Berlioz was diabolically clever (verflucht pfiffig). I made a minute study of his instrumentation as early as 1840, at Paris, and have often taken up his scores since. I profited greatly, both as regards what to do and what to leave undone.
'Whenever a composer of instrumental music loses touch of tonality he is lost.' To illustrate this (Bayreuther Blätter, 1879), Wagner quotes a dozen bars from Lohengrin, Scene 2, bars 9 to 12, and then eight bars, 'mit züchtigem Gebahren' to 'Er soil mein Streiter sein,' as an example of very far-fetched modulation, which in conjunction with the dramatic situation is readily intelligible, whereas in a work of pure instrumental music it might appear as a blemish.
When occasion offered I could venture to depict strange, and even terrible things in music, because the action rendered such things comprehensible: but music apart from the drama cannot risk this, for fear of becoming grotesque. I am afraid my scores will be of little use to composers of instrumental music; they cannot bear condensation, still less dilution; they are likely to prove misleading, and had better be left alone. I would say to young people, who wish to write for the stage, Do not, as long as you are young, attempt dramas write 'Singspiele.'
It has already been said that Wagner looks at the drama from the standpoint of Beethoven's music. Bearing this in mind it is easy to see where and how he would apply his lever to lift and upset the opera, and what his ideal of a musical drama would be. In early days the choice of subject troubled him much. Eventually he decided that mythical and legendary matter was better for music than historical; because the emotional elements of a mythical story are always of a simple nature and can be readily detached from any side issue; and because it is only the heart of a glory, its emotional essence, that is suggestive to a musician. The mythical subject chosen (say the story of Volsungs and Niblungs, or Tristan and Isolde), the first and hardest thing to do is to condense the story, disentangle its threads and weave them up anew. None but those who are familiar with the sources of Wagner's dramas can have any idea of the amount of work and wisdom that goes to the fusing and welding of the materials. When this formidable preliminary task is finished, the dramatis personæ stand forth clearly, and the playwright's task begins. In planning acts and scenes, Wagner never for a moment loses sight of the stage; the actual performance is always present to his mind. No walking gentlemen shall explain matters in general, nothing shall be done in the background, and subsequently accounted for across the footlights. Whatever happens during the progress of the play shall be intelligible then and there. ​The dialogue in each scene shall exhibit the inner motives of the characters. Scene by scene the progress of the story shall be shown to be the result of these motives; and a decisive event, a turning-point in the story, shall mark the close of each act.—The play being sketched, the leading motives of the dialogue fixed, Wagner turns to the verse. Here the full extent of the divergence of his drama from the paths of the opera becomes apparent. He takes no account of musical forms as the opera has them—recitative, aria, duet, ensemble, etc. If only the verse be emotional and strongly rhythmical, music can be trusted to absorb and glorify it. With Wagner as with Æschylus the verse is conceived and executed in the orgiastic spirit of musical sound. There is no need of, indeed there is no room for, subtleties of diction, intricate correspondence of rhyme and metre; music can supply all that, and much more. Whilst working on The Ring he found that alliterative verse as it exists in the poems of the elder Edda, in Beowulf, etc., was best suited to his subject, and that such verse could be written in German without offering violence to the language. In Tristan and Parsifal he makes use of a combination of alliteration, assonance, and rhyme. Firm and concise, abounding in strong accents, the lines seem to demand music; indeed musical emphasis and prolongation of sound render them more readily intelligible and more impressive.
The poem finished, Wagner begins the music, or rather begins to write the music, for it is obvious that whereas in his case playwright and musician are one, the musical conception will go hand in hand with the poetic, will perhaps even precede it. Together with the first conception of the characters and situations at a very early stage in the growth of the work, certain musical phrases suggest themselves. These phrases, themes, 'Leitmotive.' are the musician's equivalents for the dominant emotions or characteristics of the dramatis personæ. Together with other musical germs of kindred origin they are the subjects—in a technical sense the themes—which the dramatic symphonist manipulates, using the full resources of Beethoven's orchestra, and adding thereto whatever the dramatic action may suggest. The pictures and actions on the stage are as visions induced by the symphonic music. The orchestra prepares for and floats the action, enforces details, recalls bygones, is, as it were, the artistic conscience of the whole performance.
Wagner's treatment of the voice, his vocal melody, has undergone many a change. First he tried to find melodies effective from a vocalist's point of view; then, in the Holländer, and more consciously in Tannhäuser the melodic ebb and flow is regulated by the action; in Lohengrin the emotions expressed, as much as any peculiarity of melody, attract attention, whilst characteristic harmony and instrumentation enforce the melodic outlines. In the later works the vocal melody often springs direct from the words; it is frequently independent of the orchestra, in some cases indeed it is but an intensified version of the actual sounds of the German language.
From the blatant and at times almost vulgar style of Rienzi there is a steady and truly astonishing increase in power and concentration, subtlety and delicacy. The Nibelungen, Tristan, and subsequent works abound in harmonic, melodic, and rhythmical combinations of great beauty and striking originality. The innovations in harmony and melody peculiar to Wagner are mainly due to the free use of chromatics. Besides bold chromatic and enharmonic progressions, he constantly employs chromatic anticipatory, changing, and passing notes, which have a melodic significance only. For purposes of analysis such chromatic notes should be eliminated—the harmonic framework will then stand forth clearly, and prove perfectly consistent. To take a couple of examples already quoted: the opening bars of the prelude to 'Tristan'—given under Leit-motif, vol. ii. p. 117—if the G♯ in bar 2 and the A♯ in bar 3 be eliminated from the treble part, the progression appears thus:
| a | - | b |
| d♯ | - | d♮ |
| B | - | g♯ |
| f | - | E. |
In the two bars from Act ii. of 'Tristan'—given under Harmony, vol. i. p. 684 the two chromatic notes of the upper parts are sustained as suspensions into the next chord, etc.; similar examples might be cited by the dozen. In the article Harmony attention is drawn to the complicated use of suspensions and passing notes 'which follow from the principles of Bach in polyphony as applied to Harmony'; and the opening bars of the Vorspiel to the Meistersinger are there cited as an example of the manner in which suspensions are taken 'in any form or position which can in the first place be possibly prepared by passing notes, or in the second place be possibly resolved even by causing a fresh discord, so long as ultimate resolution into concord is feasible in an intelligible manner.' [See vol. i. p. 682–83.]—The greater part of Wagner's chromatic or enharmonic progressions will be found to be based upon correct diatonic progressions in minor or major. Exceptionally, the chromatic progression of parts upwards or downwards, or in contrary motion (Tristan, PF. arrt. p. 25, lines 1, 2, etc.), forms a sufficient link between apparently contradictory chords. The exigencies and suggestions of the dramatic action fully account for sudden and far-fetched modulations, enharmonic changes, rhythmical elisions (as when a beat or a ​chord is dropped, the phrase being intelligible though not logically complete, Tristan, p. 150, bar 3 to 4 et seq.}, interrupted cadences, expansion or condensation of time (Tristan, PF. arrt., pp. 210–12, and 226–28), sequences of chromatically altered chords and other peculiarities (Siegfried, PF. arrt. p. 65 et seq.). In pure instrumental music such eccentric and apparently extravagant things would not have sufficient raison d'être; but in their right place they require no apology, nor do they present special difficulties from the point of view of musical grammar. Indeed Wagner as he advanced grew more and more careful with regard to diction, and it is not too much to say that among the hundreds of unusual and complex combinations in Tristan, Siegfried, Götterdämmerung and Parsifal, it would be difficult to point to a single crude one.
Wagner is a supreme master of instrumentation, of orchestral colour. His orchestra differs from Beethoven's in the quality of tone emitted; over and above effects of richness obtained by the more elaborate treatment of the inner part of the string quartet, the frequent subdivision of violins, violas, violoncellos, the use of chromatics in horn and trumpet parts, etc., there is a peculiar charm in the very sound of Wagner's wood-winds and brass. It is fuller than Beethoven's, yet singularly pure. And the reason for this is not far to seek. Wagner rarely employs instruments unknown to Beethoven, but he completes each group or family of wind instruments with a view to getting full chords from each group. Thus the two clarinets of Beethoven's orchestra are supplemented by a third clarinet and a bass-clarinet if need be; the two oboes by a third oboe or a corno-inglese (alto oboe); the two bassoons by a third bassoon and a contra-fagotto; the two trumpets by a third trumpet and a bass trumpet, etc. The results got by the use of these additional instruments are of greater significance than at first appears, since each set of instruments can thus produce complete chords, and can be employed in full harmony without mixture of timbre unless the composer so chooses.
To account for the exceptional array of extra instruments in the scores of the Nibelungen it is enough to say that they are used as special means for special ends. Thus at the opening of the Rheingold the question is what sound will best prepare for and accord with dim twiHght and waves of moving water? The soft notes of horns might be a musician's answer; but to produce the full smooth wavelike motion upon the notes of a single chord, the usual two or four horns are not sufficient. Wagner takes eight, and a unique and beautiful effect is secured. Again, in the next scene, the waves change to clouds; from misty mountain heights the gods behold Walhall in the glow of the morning sun. Here subdued solemn sound is required. How to get it? Use brass instruments piano. But the trumpets, trombones, and tuba of Wagner's usual orchestra cannot produce enough of it; he therefore supplements them by other instruments of their family; a bass trumpet, two tenor and two bass tubas, a contrabass trombone, and contrabass tuba; then the full band of thirteen brass instruments is ready for one of the simplest and noblest effects of sonority in existence. At the close of Rheingold, Donner with his thunder hammer clears the air of mist and storm-clouds; a rainbow spans the valley of the Rhine, and over the glistening bridge the gods pass to Walhall. What additional sounds shall accompany the glimmer and glitter of this scene? The silvery notes of harps might do it: but the sounds of a single harp would appear trivial, or would hardly be audible against the full chant of the orchestra. Wagner takes six harps, writes a separate part for each, and the desired effect is attained.
In the Ring, in Tristan, the Meistersinger, and Parsifal, the notation of all that pertains to execution, tempi, gradations of sonority, etc., has been carried out in the most complete manner possible. The composer's care and patience are truly extraordinary. Nothing is left to chance. If the conductor and the executants strictly follow the indications given in the scores, a correct performance cannot fail to ensue. The tempo and the character of each movement, and every modification of tempo or character, are indicated in unmistakeable German (for instance, in Rheingold, p. 1, 'Ruhig heitere Bewegung,' which in the conventional Italian terms would have been 'Allegretto piacevole,' or something equally misleading); doubtful changes of time; cases where the notation would seem to suggest a change of tempo, whereas only a change of metre occurs, while the musical pulsation, the actual beat, remains the same are indicated by equivalents in notes and elucidatory words. Thus in Tristan, p. 69, where 2-2 changes to 6-8, the latter is marked = ; that is to say, the dotted crotchets shall now be taken at the rate of the preceding minims. The number of strings necessary to balance the wind instruments employed is given—in the Nibelungen it is 16 first violins, 16 seconds, 12 violas, 12 cellos, and 8 contra-basses. When the violins or other strings are divided, the number of desks that shall take each part is shown. To secure specially delicate effects the number of single instruments required out of the total is indicated, etc., etc.
It remains to add a few words as to the quality of the average performances of Wagner's works. Of late years his name has appeared more frequently on the play-bills in Germany than that of any other composer. Performances of his early and even of his later works have been surprisingly numerous, and, it must be said, surprisingly faulty. Putting aside shortcomings with regard to stage management, properties, machinery, incomplete chorus and orchestra, insufficient rehearsals, etc. all of which can be ​set to rights without much real difficulty—a glaring evil remains, an evil so great that it seems to threaten the very life of Wagner's art. Among innumerable performances, not one in a hundred is free from the most barbarous and senseless cuts; in many instances mere shams and shabby makeshifts are offered to the public! If an aria be omitted in an opera of Mozart's (take the first act of 'Nozze di Figaro' for an instance), the audience will lose so many bars of beautiful music, and one of the characters will in so far appear at a disadvantage. Cut an equivalent number of bars in the Finale of the same opera, and the case is already different—the balance of an entire section appears marred, the action disturbed, the sequence of musical effects crude. But in a musical drama constructed on Wagner's lines the damage done by such a cut will be still greater, because the scenic arrangements, the words, action, music, are inextricably interwoven; mutilate any portion of the music and the continuity is lost, the psychological thread connecting scene with scene torn asunder, the equilibrium of the entire structure destroyed. How can the result be other than a sense of incongruity, vagueness, eccentricity, and consequent irritation and weariness on the part of the audience? All manner of lame excuses, 'preposterous demands on the public time,' 'strain on the singers' voices,' etc., have been put forward; but there is no valid excuse for imitating and perpetuating the mistakes of slovenliness and incompetency. It is easy to discover the origin of any particular cut—the true cause will invariably be found to lie in the caprice of this or that conductor or singer at some leading theatre whose example is blindly followed. Then the text-books are printed with the cuts, and before long something like an authoritative tradition comes to be established. Latterly things have been carried so far that if leading executants from all parts of Europe were brought together and asked to perform any one of the master's works in its integrity they could not do it. They would have to study the cuts, the orchestra and chorus parts would have to be filled in, and rehearsals begun afresh.
'If I had a chance,' said Wagner in 1877, 'to get up the Meistersinger with an intelligent company of young people, I would first ask them to read and act the play; then only would I proceed with the music in the usual way. I am certain we should thus arrive at a satisfactory performance in a very short time.' The desiderata are simple enough. Keep the work apart from the ordinary répertoire, clear the stage for at least a week, and during that time let every one concerned give his attention to the task in hand and to nothing else; give the work entire, and aim at reproducing the score exactly as it stands.—Individual conductors and singers who see the existing evils and suffer from them protest now and then; but they are powerless, and Wagner's own appeals to the artistic or intellectual conscience of the operatic world appear to have been addressed to an unknown quantity. It would seem that there is no hope unless the pressure of public opinion can be brought to bear upon all those concerned.
IV. Chronological Lists.
FOR THE STAGE.
ORCHESTRAL AND CHORAL WORKS.
Kaisermarsch, 1871.
PIANOFORTE PIECES.
Sonata, B♭. Written 1831. Published 1832.
Polonaise, D. Four hands. Written 1831. Published 1832.
Fantasie F♯ minor. Unpublished. Written 1831.
SONGS.
Der Tannenbaum. 1840. Published 1871.
ARRANGEMENTS, etc.
Donizetti. La Favorite. PF. score, Paris.
{{{1}}}„ Elisir d'amore, PF. score.
Halévy. La Reine de Chypre. PF. score, Paris 1841.
{{{1}}}„ Le Guittarero. PF. score. Paris 1841.
ARTICLES, LIBRETTI, ETC., NOT CONTAINED IN THE COLLECTED WRITINGS, OR CANCELLED.
Pariser Amusements.
Berlioz. May 5, 1841. (Bay. Bl. 1884. pp. 65–68).
Bellini. (Bay. Bl. Dec. 1886.)
Grabschrift für Carl Tausig. 1873.
COLLECTED LITERARY WORKS.
(Ten Volumes. Leipzig 1871–85.)
Vol. I.
Vorwort zur Gesammtherausgabe.
Einleitung.
Autobiographlsche Skizze (bis 1841).
Rienzi, der letzte der Tribunen.
Ueber die Ouvertüre.
Der fliegende Holländer.
Vol. II.
Einleitung.
Tannhäuser und der Sängerkrieg auf Wartburg.
Lohengrin.
Der Nibelungen-Mythus. Als Entwurf zu einem Drama.
Siegfried's Tod.
Vol. III.
Einleitung zum dritten und vierten Bande.
Die Kunst und die Revolution.
Das Kunstwerk der Zukunst.
'Wieland der Schmiedt,' als Drama entworfen.
Kunst und Klima.
Vol. IV.
Eine Mittheilung an meine Freunde.
Vol. V.
Einleitung zum fünften und sechsten Bande.
Ueber die 'Goethestiftung.' Brief an Franz Liszt.
Ein Theater in Zürich.
Das Judenthum in der Muslk.
Erinnerungen an Spontini.
Nachruf an L. Spohr und Chordlrektor W. Fischer.
Gluck's Ouvertüre zu 'Iphigenia in Aulis.'
Ueber die Aufführung des 'Tannhäuser.'
Ueber Franz Liszt's symphonlsche Dichtungen.
Vol. VI.
Vol. VII.
Tristan und Isolde.
Ein Brief an Hector Berlioz.
Die Melsterslnger von Nürnberg.
Das Wiener Hof-Operntheater.
Vol. VIII.
Dem königlichen Freunde, Gedicht.
Ueber Staat und Religion.
Deutsche Kunst und deutsche Politik.
Meine Erinnerungen an Ludwig Schnorr von Carolsfeld.
Zur Widmung der zwelten Auflage von 'Oper und Drama.
Ueber das Dirigiren. (1869).
Vol. IX.
An das deutsche Heer vor Paris (Januar 1871.)
Eine Kapitulation. Lustspiel in antiker Manier.
Erinnerungen an Auber.
Beethoven. Published Dec. 2, 1870.
Ueber Schauspieler und Sänger.
Zum Vortrag der Neunten Symphonic Beethoven's.
Vol. X.
Was ist deutsch? (1865–1878).
Modern.
Publikum und Popularität.
Ein Rückblick auf die Bühnenfestspiele des Jahres 1876.
Wollen wir hoffen? (1879).
Ueber das Dichten und Komponiren.
Ueber das Opera Dichten und Komponiren im Besonderen.
Ueber die Anwendung der Musik auf das Drama.
Brief an H. v. Wolzogen.
Offenes Schreiben an Herrn Friedrich Schön in Worms.
Das Bühnenfestspiel in Bayreuth 1882.
Brief an H. v. Stein.
Parsifal.
SELECTED BOOKS, ETC.
Richard Wagner's Lebensbericht (original of 'The Work and Mission of my Life,' North American Review, for Aug. and Sept. 1879. Sanctioned by Wagner, but apparently not written by him). Leipzig, 1884. Die Sprache in Richard Wagner's Dichtungen. Leipzig, 1878. Full of valuable information. Poetische Lautsymbolik. Leipzig. 1876. Der Nibelungen Mythos in Sage und Literatur. Berlin, 1876.
Richard Wagner und das Musikdrama. 1861. Der Ring des Nibelungen. 1862. Tristan und Isolde. 1865.
Richard Wagner. London, 1881.
E. D. ]
* ↑ Hermann Brockhaus, the well-known orientalist and translator of Soma-deva, etc.
* ↑ At Wagner's birth Beethoven was 42 years old, Spohr 29, Weber 27, Marschner 17, Spontini 38, Rossini 21, Auber 29, Meyerbeer 22, Bellini 11, Berlioz 10, Mendelssohn and Chopin 4, Schumann 3, Liszt 2.
* ↑ There was also a child of the second marriage. Caecilie Geyer, who appears as Frau Avenarius in Wagner's correspondence.
* ↑ Autobiographische Skizze, 1842.
* ↑ Autobiographische Skizze.
* ↑ These and other words of Wagner's, printed In small type, and not otherwise authenticated, were uttered in conversation with the writer in the spring and summer of 1877. and are here first made public.
* ↑ Herr Tappert, in his admirable brochure 'Richard Wagner, sein Leben and seine Werke,' gives the entire letter (Aug. 6, 1831).
* ↑ Details in 'Ges. Schriften,' vol. x. 'Bericht über die Wiederauffuhrung eines Jugendwerkes.' pp. 399–405.
* ↑ Bericht über die Wiederauffuhrung eines Jugendwerkes,' pp. 399–405
* ↑ Carlo Gozzi (1722–1806) Venetian playwright; his pieces, based on fairy tales, were admired by Goethe, Schiller, Sismondi, etc. 'Re Turandotte' was translated and adapted for the Weimar stage by Schiller; Weber wrote music to it in 1809.
* ↑ See Singspiel, vol. iii. p. 616.
* ↑ For a droll account of the performance, see 'Bericht über eine-erste Opernaufführung.' Ges. Schriften, vol. i.
* ↑ In 1842 these sketches were carried out in light verse to oblige Capellmeister Reissiger, Wagner's colleague at Dresden. In 1848 the opera, entitled (Bianca and Giuseppe, or) 'Die Franzosen in Nizza,' in 4 acts, and with sundry alterations enforced by the Austrian censorship, music by Kapellmeister J. F. Kittl, was performed at Prague with considerable and lasting success.
* ↑ L. Nohl found the MS. at Riga in 1872, together with sketches for bits of the music—'a la Adam.' These are quoted in Neue Zeitschrift (1884, p. 244).
* ↑ See 'Eine Mittheilung an meine Freunde.'
* ↑ They lodged for a night at the Hoop and Horseshoe, 10 Queen Street, Tower Hill, still existing; then stayed at the King's Arms boarding house, Old Compton Street, Soho; from which place the dog disappeared, and turned up again after a couple of days, to his master's frantic joy. Wagner's accurate memory for localities was puzzled when he wandered about Soho with the writer in 1877 and failed to find the old house. Mr. J. Cyrlax, who has zealously traced every step of Wagner's in London, 1839. 66, and 77, states that the premises have been pulled down.
* ↑ On the authority of Theodor Hagen, late editor of the New York Musikzeitung. No other well-authenticated utterance of Heine's regarding Wagner has come to light. The so-called letter to Laube which recently appeared in 'Das Orchester' (Dresden), and was reprinted by Herr Kastner in 'Parsifal,' is not a letter at all, but a concoction made up of Laube's words.
* ↑ Gasperini, 'R. Wagner,' p. 27. The chanson has not been traced.
* ↑ So described by Friedrich Pecht. the painter.
* ↑ According to Kastner, this was a contribution to the 'Augsburger Abendzeitung'—on Wolzogen's authority it should be Dresdener Abeudzeitung, 1841.
* ↑ It was however not a Dutch play at Amsterdam, but, as Dr. Francis Hueffer has shown, an English play of Fitzball's at the Adelphl in London which Heine witnessed in 1827, and which furnished him with the outlines of the story. Still the ingenious denouement is Heine's own.
* ↑ 'Le Vaisseau-Fantome,' libretto by Foucher and Bevoil, on Wagner's plan, but with sundry interpolations of the conventional sort, music by Pierre Louis Philippe Dietsch (chorusmaster and subsequently conductor at the Opéra, born 1808 at Dijon, died 1863 at Paris), was performed Nov. 9, 1842.
* ↑ For the original 'Tannhäuserlied' see Uhland's 'Alte hoch- und nieder-deutsche Volkslieder,' Bk. v, p. 297.
* ↑ See Simrock's edition of 'Der Wartburgkrieg' (1858) and his version into modern German of Wolfram von Eschenbach's 'Parziral und Titurel' (xvi. Loherangrin, 3rd edit. 1857).
* ↑ Printed by Görres in 1813, and in 1858 again edited by Rückert.
* ↑ Berlioz, Mémoires, 274.
* ↑ Mendelssohn (who conducted his overture to 'Ruy Blas') wrote about it to his mother, Nov. 28.
* ↑ On May 22, 1843. It was given at Riga; in 1844 at Berlin.
* ↑ At court theatres in Germany the title Hof-Capellmeister usually implies an appointment for life, with a retiring pension in proportion to salary and duration of service.
* ↑ See Berlioz's letter to D'Ortigue Feb. 28. 1843 (Correspondence and Memoires), Lettre à Ernst.
* ↑ In conversation with the writer. The German translation of the Stabat Mater given in Wagner's edition ii by the late C. Bledel.
* ↑ Inquiries at Dresden show that this Soprano. Mose Tarquinio, was a member of the 'Königl. Sächss. musical. Kapelle' till April 30, 1845; also that Angelo Ciccarelli. another musico, acted as instructor to the choirboys, under Wagner. (This is due to the kindness of Heir Moritz Fürstenau, custos of the Royal Library of Music at Dresden.)
* ↑ Quoted by Tappert in Musicalisches Wochenblatt, 1877, p. 411.
* ↑ Selbstbiographie. ii. 356.
* ↑ Letter to Hauptmann, ibid.
* ↑ Letter to Spohr, April 21, 1846.
* ↑ It is curious to compare with these just and generous words the following extracts from a letter of Schumann's written some years later (1853) and quoted by Herr Kastner (Richard Wagner Katalog). 'Wagner is, if I am to put it concisely, not a good musician (kein guter Musiker); he is wanting in the proper sense for form and for beauty of sound.… Apart from the performance the music is poor (gering) quite amateurish, empty, and repelling (gehaltios und widerwärtig), etc,
* ↑ For details concerning Wagner's reading of the overture, and for a description of his 'arrangement' of the entire opera, see Ges. Schrift. v. 143. and Glasenapp. p. 226.
* ↑ Ges. Schrift. ii.
* ↑ Ibid.
* ↑ Ibid.
* ↑ Extracts, 'Sittliche Stellung der Musik mm Staat,' 'Zahl der Theatervorstellungen,' 'Die kathollsche Kirchenmusik,' were communicated by Theod. Uhlig to the Neue Zeitschrift für Musik, vol. xixiv., and the entire document is given in Ges. Schriften, vol. ii.
* ↑ 'The Music of the Future,' p. 32.
* ↑ Written by Julius Rietz, and printed in Moscheles' Leben. ii. 217.
* ↑ Concerning the 'bureau' see H. Laube's 'Erinnerungen.'
* ↑ See Oper und Drama. I, in Ges. Schriften, iii. 373, etc.
* ↑ Printed in Tappert. p. 20,
* ↑ [See Bülow, vol. i. p. 280.]
* ↑ On Liszt's relations to Wagner [see Liszt, vol. ii. p. 148.]
* ↑ The same thing is said more explicitly in 'Eine Mitthellung an meine Freunde'
* ↑ Letter to Arrigo Boito, Nov. 7, 1871.
* ↑ In a private letter to Dr. Gille of Jena referring to a subsequent visit (Lucerne, 1897) Liszt writes: 'I am with Wagner all day long—his Nibelungen music is a glorious new world which I have long wished to know. Some day the coolest persons will grow enthusiastic about it.' And again (1875, letter to Herr Gobbi of Pesth), 'The Ring of the Nibelungen rises above and dominates our entire art-epoch, as Mont Blanc dominates the surrounding mountains.'
* ↑ Chas. Lucas conducted his own symphony at the fourth concert.
* ↑ [See Klindworth, vol. ii. p. 64.]
* ↑ The offer from Rio appears to have been genuine; the Emperor of Brazil subsequently became a patron of the theatre at Bayreuth and witnessed a performance of The Ring there.
* ↑ 'The Music of the Future,' pp. 36. 37.
* ↑ Ibid.
* ↑ See 'Beethoven,' particularly the supplement to the English translation: also 'Religion and Kunst.' 1880–81.
* ↑ Gasperini. p. 63.
* ↑ This was the old Salle Ventadour, at which, as the Théâtre de la Renaissance, 'Das Liebesverbot' was to have been given twenty years previously. It is now a Bureau d'escompte. [See Ventadour.]
* ↑ 'Les 164 repetitions et les 3 representations du Tannhäuser a Paris,' par Ch. Nuitter. (See 'Bayreuther Festblatter' for 1884.)
* ↑ See the English translation: 'The Music of the Future.'
* ↑ The customary remuneration for each performance of a new opera at Paris was 500 francs, so that 1500 francs would hare been Wagner's share for the three evenings; but it had been arranged that for the first 20 performances half of the remuneration was to be paid to the translators of the libretto: thus 750 francs was the sum Wagner received for something like a year's work.
* ↑ Now demolished.
* ↑ Ch. Baudelaire's article in the 'Revue Européenne,' augmented and reprinted as a pamphlet, April 1861, 'Richard Wagner et Tannhäuser,' is a masterpiece.
* ↑ The final version differs considerably from this.
* ↑ See 'Ueber das Dirigiren,' and Glasenapp, ii. p. 113.
* ↑ See Glasenapp, ii. chap. 3, for true details regarding the extra ordinary means employed to oust Wagner.
* ↑ Not published in that form.
* ↑ The exact amount has not been made public.
* ↑ It was returned to the K. Kabinetscassa in 1866.
* ↑ Schnorr died suddenly at Dresden on July 21, 1865, and Tristan was again 'impossible' until Herr and Frau Vogl sang it in June 1869.
* ↑ The present Conservatorium, opened under v. Bülow in 1867, is practically the old institution, and does not carry out Wagner's ideas.
* ↑ Rheingold and Walküre were performed at the Munich Hoftheater in 1869 and 70 respectively.
* ↑ The London Wagner Society's Orchestral Concerts took place Feb. 19. 27, May 9, Nov. 14, Dec. 12, 1873; and Jan. 23, Feb. 13, March 13, May 13, 1874.
* ↑ The writer, whose name has been mentioned in Glasenapp's Biography and elsewhere in connection with this 'London episode,' desires to state that he had nothing whatever to do with the planning of the 'festival,' nor with the business arrangements. All he did was to attend to the completion of the orchestra with regard to the 'extra' wind instruments, and at Wagner's request to conduct the preliminary rehearsals.
* ↑ (Aug. 22, 1877.) 'Strange things happen in the realms of music, wrote a surprised subscriber.
* ↑ See the striking testimony of the veteran violoncellist Dotzauer and of Weber's widow as to Der Freyschütz. in 'Ueber das Dirigiren.'
* ↑ For interesting particulars concerning it see H. Forge's 'Ueber die Aufführung der neunten Symphonie unter R. Wagner in Bayreuth.'
* ↑ Consult Herr Tappert's 'Ein Wagner Lexikon-Wörterbuch der Unhöflichkeit.' etc. (Leipzig 1877) for an astonishing record of the length such things can go to in Germany.
* ↑ See Brief an Fr. Nietzsche, Ges. Schriften, vol. 9.
* ↑ Wagner came across a copy of Feuerbach's Das Wesen der Religion' in the writer's library: 'Solch confuses Zeug liesst sich leicht in jüngeren Jahren—ist an-und-auf-regend—ich habe lang daran gezehrt; jetzt (1877) wär mirs aber unverdaulich.'
* ↑ 'Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung' (1818), vol. i. § 52. Ibid, vol. ii. chap. 39.
* ↑ 'Parerga und Paralipomena,' Berlin 1851. (See the appendix to the English translation of 'Beethoven.')
* ↑ See the English translation 'On Conducting.' London, 1886.
* ↑ Herr v. Wolzogen (Erinneruneen an Richard Wagner) gives a capital résumé of his sayings on such occasions.
* ↑ Ges. Schriften, vol. x. p. 248.
* ↑ [See Singspiel iii, 516.]
* ↑ [See the article Leit-motif, vol. ii. p. 115.] The term is Herr v. Wolzogen's, not Wagner's, and should be used cautiously. At Bayreuth. In the summer of 1877, after warmly praising Herr v. Wolzogen's 'Thematische Leitfäden' for the interesting information they afford, and for the patience displayed in the attempts at thematic analysis, Wagner added: 'To a musician this naming and tracing of themes is not particularly significant. If dilettanti are thus induced to study a pianoforte arrangement a little more attentively, I can hare no objection, but that does not concern us musicians (für uns Musiker ist das aber nichts). It may be worth while to look at the complex combinations of themes in some of my scores, to see how music can be applied to the drama,—this, however, is a matter for private study.'
* ↑ [See the remarks on the quotation from Tristan, 'Mir lacht das Abenteuer,' under Interrupted Cadence, vol. ii. p. 11.]
* ↑ Many a disastrous quid pro quo might be avoided if this simple method of noting the relation of one tempo to another were adopted. [See the article Tempo, vol. iii. p. 75.]
* ↑ Not sextet.