Correspondence of Wagner and Liszt, Volume 1
F >>
Francis Hueffer (translator) >> Correspondence of Wagner and Liszt, Volume 1
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 | 7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 |
17 |
18 |
19 |
20 |
21 |
22
Dingelstedt's sympathetic and clever notice of the performance of
my "Lohengrin" has impressed me very much. He owns that
previously he had known nothing by me, and chiefly attributes to
this circumstance a certain puzzled feeling which the first
performance of "Lohengrin" has produced in him. That puzzled
feeling he transfers to the character of the work itself,
speaking of numberless intentions crossing each other, with which
he supplies me, but never guessing, as far as I can see, the only
intention which guided me--I mean the simple and bare intention
of the drama. He speaks of the impression which flutes, violins,
kettledrums, and trumpets made on him, but nowhere of the
dramatic representatives in whose stead, as he puts it, those
instruments spoke. From this I conclude that at the performance
the purely musical execution preponderated, that the orchestra--
as connoisseurs have also told me--was excellent, and that friend
Liszt, together with all that immediately depended on him, was
the real hero of the performance. If we consider honestly and
unselfishly the essence of music, we must own that it is in large
measure a means to an end, that end being in rational opera the
drama, which is most emphatically placed in the hands of the
representatives on the stage. That these representatives
disappeared for Dingelstedt, that in their stead he only heard
the utterance of orchestral instruments, grieves me, for I see
that, as regards fire and expression, the singers remained behind
the support of the orchestra. I own that a singer supported by
the orchestra in such a manner as is here the case must be of the
very highest and best quality, and I fully believe that such
singers could not easily be found in Weimar, and in Germany
generally. But what is really the essential and principal thing
here? Is it voice only? Surely not. It is life and fire, and in
addition to that earnest endeavour and a strong and powerful
will. In Dresden I made the experience with our best singers
that, although they had the most laudable intentions and the
greatest love for their tasks, they were unable to master a
certain flabby laziness, which in our actual artistic muddle
appears to be the characteristic trait of all our operatic
heroes. I there caused all the remarks in the score of
"Tannhauser" to be inserted in the parts of the singers with the
utmost accuracy--I mean the remarks which had reference to the
meaning of the situation and the dramatic action. At the
performance I perceived with dismay that all these had remained
unnoticed, and I had to see--imagine my horror!--for example,
that my Tannhauser in the contest of the singers shouted the hymn
of Venus--
"Wer dich mit Gluth in seine Arme geschlossen, Was Liebe ist,
weiss der, nur der allein!"
at Elizabeth, the chastest of virgins, before a whole assembly of
people. The only possible result could be that the public was, to
say the least, confounded, and did not know what to make of it.
Indeed, I heard at Dresden that the public became acquainted with
the dramatic meaning of the opera only by reading the book in
extenso; in other words, they understood the performance by
disregarding the visible performance and making additions from
their own imagination. Are your singers at Weimar more advanced
than our famous people of Dresden? I think not. Probably they
also will, in the first instance, be satisfied with getting over
the difficulty of hitting the notes and committing their parts to
memory, and on the stage they will at best take notice only of
what the stage-manager tells them in the most general way.
Genast, however, was always one of those artists who do not rely
upon the stage-manager for the comprehension of their parts; he
who has heard him and seen him knows so much. Being now a stage-
manager himself, he probably thinks it unnecessary to play for
the singers the schoolmaster, whom he, as a singer, never wanted.
In this, however, he is mistaken; the present generation has run
wild from its birth. I also can understand too well that, in his
friendly zeal for my work, he remained entirely on the proper
standpoint of the stage-manager, who arranges things in a general
way, and justly leaves it to the individual actors to find out
for themselves what concerns them only. In spite of this, I ask
him now to interfere even there, where the power and the natural
activity of the stage-manager ceases; let him be the trustee of
infant actors. At the rehearsal of my "Tannhauser" in Weimar I
had occasion to point out the neglect of some scenic indications
on the part of individual singers. Elizabeth, for example, during
the postlude of the duet with Tannhauser in the second act, has
to justify the re-entry of the tender theme in the clarinet in
slower tempo by looking--as is indicated in the score--after
Tannhauser in the court of the castle and by beckoning to him. By
neglecting this and merely standing in front, waiting for the
conclusion of the music, she naturally produces an unbearable
feeling of tedium. Every bar of dramatic music is justified only
by the fact that it explains something in the action or in the
character of the actor. That reminiscence of the clarinet theme
is not there for its own sake as a purely musical effect, which
Elizabeth might have to accompany by her action, but the beckoned
greeting of Elizabeth is the chief thing I had in my eye, and
that reminiscence I selected in order to accompany suitably this
action of Elizabeth. The relations of music and action must
therefore be deplorably perverted where, as in this instance, the
principal thing--i.e., the dramatic motive--is left out, while
the lesser thing--i.e., the accompaniment of that motive--alone
remains. Of the performance of "Lohengrin" one fact has been
related to me which, although it may appear of little
consequence, must serve me to show how important, nay decisive,
for a proper understanding such individual cases may be.
When I conceived and wrote the second act, it had not escaped me
how important it would be for the proper mood of the spectator to
show that Elsa's contentment at the last words of Lohengrin is
not really complete and genuine; the public should feel that Elsa
violently forces herself to conquer her doubt, and we should in
reality fear that, having once indulged in brooding over
Lohengrin, she will finally succumb and ask the prohibited
question. In the production of this general feeling of fear lies
the only necessity for a third act in which that fear is
realized; without it the opera should end here, for the chief
problem would not only have been mooted, but satisfactorily
solved. In order to produce this feeling very distinctly and
tangibly, I invented the following dramatic point: Elsa is led by
Lohengrin up the steps on the minster; on the topmost step she
looks downwards with timid apprehension; her eye involuntarily
seeks Frederick, of whom she is still thinking; at that moment
her glance falls on Ortrud, who stands below, and raises her hand
in a threatening manner. At this moment I introduce in the
orchestra in F minor ff. the warning of Lohengrin, the
significance of which has by this time been distinctly impressed
upon us, and which, accompanied by Ortrud's impressive gesture,
here indicates with absolute certainty, "Whatever happens, you
will disobey the command in spite of all." Elsa then turns away
in terror, and only when the king, after this interruption, once
more proceeds towards the entrance of the minster with the bridal
pair, does the curtain drop. What a pity then that that dramatic
point was not made on the stage, and that the curtain dropped
before the entry of the reminiscence in F minor! This not
unimportant mistake was, no doubt, caused by the probably
accidental neglect of a remark in the full score which, according
to my previous wish, should, like similar other remarks, have
been extracted for the benefit of the actors. I must fear that
several other things have also remained unnoticed and unexecuted,
and nothing confirms me so much in this fear as the account of
Dingelstedt, who, in spite of his unmistakable goodwill, has
evidently not taken in my opera because of the music.
Dearest Liszt, was I right when in the preface of my "Kunstwerk
der Zukunft" I wrote that not the individual, but the community
alone, could create genuine works of art? You have done the
impossible, but, believe me, all must nowadays do the impossible
in order to achieve what is really possible. What delights me
more than all is to hear that you have not lost courage, and are
going to try everything in order to support the opera, in spite
of a certain disappointment around you, and even to put it on its
legs. To assist you in this most laudable zeal I give you the
following advice: Let Genast, whom I cordially thank for his
friendship, before the resumption of "Lohengrin", call the whole
personnel to a reading rehearsal; let the singers read their
parts in connection, distinctly and expressively, from the
printed libretto, in which there are unfortunately many
misprints. Let Genast take the score, and from the remarks
therein inserted explain to the singers the meaning of the
situations and their connection with the music bar by bar. The
devil must be in it if the matter could not then be put right,
provided the intentions of the actors are good. Once more, let
Genast go beyond his position as stage-manager, which, no doubt,
he fills as well as any one, and let him become the guardian of
the infants and the neglected.
By these words I by no means wish to express a definite doubt as
to your singers in general or their achievements in this
particular case. The fact that in a purely musical sense they
took such care of their parts that you ventured with them upon
the performance of this enormously difficult, because unfamiliar
music is an excellent testimony in their favour. In the above I
asked them for something which perhaps they have never been asked
for before. I hope Genast will find it worth his while to explain
this most specially to them, and that he will succeed in making
them do justice to my demand. In that case he may boast of having
been the chief participant in a revolution which will lift our
theatrical routine out of its grooves.
The representative of Lohengrin alone appears, according to all
accounts, really incapable. Would it not be possible to make in
this instance a change of persons? To my mind everybody ought to
be glad when Lohengrin enters, instead of which it appears that
people were more pleased when he left the stage. At this moment I
receive your letter, assuring me of your joy and friendship. What
good spirits you are in!
I will close this long letter, which must have bored you very
much, by comprising all the single points I have mentioned to you
in a final and weighty bundle of prayers.
1. Arrange by the intervention of Genast that before the second
performance the singers have another rehearsal according to the
above indications. Let no scenic remark remain unnoticed.
2. Insist firmly and sharply that the singers perform in decisive
and lively tempo what they take to be recitatives in my opera. By
this means the duration of the opera will, according to my
experience, be shortened by nearly an hour.
3. Further, I desire that, with the exception of the second part
of Lohengrin's tale, which I determined from the beginning to
cut, my opera should be given as it is, without any omissions.
If cuts are made, the chain of comprehension will be torn
asunder, and my style, which the public are only just beginning
to take in, so far from being made more accessible, will be
further removed from the public and the actors. To capitulate to
the enemy is not to conquer; the enemy himself must surrender;
and that enemy is the laziness and flabbiness of our actors, who
must be forcibly driven to feel and think. If I do not gain the
victory, and have to capitulate in spite of my powerful ally, I
shall go into no further battles. If my "Lohengrin" can be
preserved only by tearing its well-calculated and artistic
context to pieces, in other words if it has to be cut owing to
the laziness of the actors, I shall abandon opera altogether.
Weimar in that case will have no more interest for me, and I
shall have written my last opera. With you, dear Liszt, who have
so bravely accepted my battle, it lies to gain a complete victory
for me. I do not know what more I could say; to you I have said
enough. To Genast, for whom also this letter is intended, I shall
write separately as soon as I know that my demand has not
offended him. To Zigesar I write tomorrow.
In the meantime I post this letter in order not to incur the
reproach of delay.
Farewell, then, dearest, splendid friend. You are as good as
refreshing summer rain. Farewell. Be thanked, and greet my
friends.
Always your most obliged
RICHARD WAGNER
ZURICH, September 8th, 1850
One thing more: as you have no organ and no harmonium
(physharmonika), I want you to let the short organ-passage at the
end of the second act be played by wind instruments behind the
scenes.
Lohengrin should sing the words "Heil dir, Elsa! nun lass vor
Gott uns gehen!" with tender emotion.
42.
(TO HERR VON ZIGESAR.)
MOST ESTIMABLE HERR INTENDANT,
On my return from a little trip to the Alps, I find the copies of
the libretto of "Lohengrin" which you have kindly sent to me, and
have every reason to rejoice heartily at the remarkable care with
which you have had it done. This is another ocular proof of the
sympathy with which you have gone to work in everything
concerning my last opera, and I must not omit to express my
warmest thanks to you. Your last letter, in which you kindly
enclosed the honorarium for my "Lohengrin," tells me of the
success of all your extraordinary exertions for the performance
of the opera, and I see with regret from your friendly
communication that satisfaction, in the measure desired by you,
has not been the result, and that a permanent success appears
doubtful to you. As with this statement you combine no objection
to the work itself, but, on the contrary, assure me that to the
best of your intention and power you will try to secure that
desired success for my opera, I feel bound to add to the
expression of my gratitude for your kind feeling my opinion as to
how our mutual wishes might be realized.
Most esteemed Herr Intendant, with full knowledge of the matter
at stake, you have undertaken by its performance at your theatre
to give life to a dramatic work the essence of which is that it
is in all its parts a continuous whole, and not something
incongruous, made up of many different parts. The author of this
work does not wish to shine by the effect of single musical
pieces; music to him is altogether no more than the most exalted
and most comprehensive mode of expression of what he desired to
express--the drama. Even where music became a mere ornament I
remained conscious of having acted in accordance with a certain
artistic necessity, and each necessary effect was brought about
only by the fact that, like the link of a well-forged chain, it
derived its significance from the preceding links. If this chain
were torn asunder by the removal of the whole, or a half, or a
quarter of a link, the whole context would be torn along with it,
and my intention would be destroyed. You admitted to me yourself
that in certain cases about which at first you had doubts you had
been finally convinced of the necessity of this concatenation,
but the impression made upon you by the performance has again
renewed this doubt, to the extent, at least, that you think it
advisable, in consideration of the public, to consent to certain
omissions in my opera. Permit me to think a little better of the
public. An audience which assembles in a fair mood is satisfied
as soon as it distinctly understands what is going forward, and
it is a great mistake to think that a theatrical audience must
have a special knowledge of music in order to receive the right
impression of a musical drama. To this entirely erroneous opinion
we have been brought by the fact that in opera music has wrongly
been made the aim, while the drama was merely a means for the
display of the music. Music, on the contrary, should do no more
than contribute its full share towards making the drama clearly
and quickly comprehensible at every moment. While listening to a
good--that is, rational--opera, people should, so to speak, not
think of the music at all, but only feel it in an unconscious
manner, while their fullest sympathy should be wholly occupied by
the action represented. Every audience which has an uncorrupted
sense and a human heart is therefore welcome to me as long as I
may be certain that the dramatic action is made more immediately
comprehensible and moving by the music, instead of being hidden
by it. In this respect the performance of my "Lohengrin" at
Weimar does not as yet seem to have been adequate, in so far as
the purely musical part was much more perfect than the dramatic,
properly so called, and the fault I attribute solely to the
general state of our opera, which from the outset has the most
confusing and damaging influence on all our singers. If during
the performance of my "Lohengrin" the music only was noticed, yea
almost only the orchestra, you may be sure that the actors
remained far behind their task. Yesterday I wrote at length to my
incomparable friend Liszt about this, and explained to him my
views as to how the matter might be managed so as to place the
performance in the right light. If in future the so-called
recitatives are sung as I have asked Liszt to insist upon their
being sung, the halting and freezing impression of whole, long
passages will disappear, and the duration of the performance will
be considerably shortened. If cuts were resorted to, you would
gain comparatively little time, and would sacrifice to our modern
theatrical routine every possibility of thorough reform. I can
imagine, for instance, that the speeches of the king and the
herald may have made a fatiguing impression, but if this was the
case because the singers sang them in a lackadaisical, lazy, and
slovenly manner, without real utterance, is then the interest of
art benefited by curtailing or omitting these speeches? Surely
not. Art and artists will be equally benefited only if those
singers are earnestly requested to pronounce those speeches with
energy, fire, and determined expression. Where no effect is made
no impression can be produced, and where no impression is
produced people are bored; but is it right, in order to shorten
that boredom, to remove what with a proper expression would
produce the necessary effect? In that case it would be better to
drop the whole work, which, for want of proper expression, would
be in danger of failing to produce the necessary effect. For if
we yield in small and single things, if we make concessions to
laziness and incompetence, we may be sure that we shall soon be
obliged to do the same throughout; in other words, that we must
give up every attempt at making a work like the present succeed.
It appears to me preferable to find out with the utmost care
where the real cause of the existing evil lies, and then to
attack the enemy in his own camp with perseverance and power. You
will see from this, most esteemed Herr Intendant, how important
it is for me not to gain toleration for my Lohengrin by
accommodating it to existing evils, but to secure for it a
decisive success by making it conquer existing evils. Otherwise I
confess openly that the future chances of this opera would have
no value for me; in that case I should only regret the amount of
exertion, trouble, and sympathy which you have kindly wasted on
this work. Fame I do not seek, gain I had to renounce long ago,
and if now I have at last to experience that even my most
energetic friends and patrons think themselves obliged to make
concessions for my benefit where a real victory can alone be of
value, I shall lose every wish and every power to be further
active in my art. If you can keep my "Lohengrin" going only by
truncating its healthy organism, and not by operating to the best
of your power on the diseased organism of our truncated operatic
body, then I shall be cordially glad if you are rewarded for your
pains according to circumstances, but I must ask you not to be
angry with me if I look upon such a success with indifference.
What to you is a matter of benevolence towards me is for me,
unfortunately, a vital question of my whole mental existence in
art, to which my being clings with bleeding fibres.
May Heaven grant that you, highly esteemed sir and patron, will
take the contents and expression of these lines in good part, and
that you will not for a moment doubt that always and in all
circumstances I shall look upon you as one of the most
sympathetic phenomena that have entered my existence. In all
respects I owe you love and unbounded gratitude. If I should
never be able to show this to you, as from my whole heart I
desire, I ask you fervently to attribute it, not to the wish of
my inmost soul, but to the position which I, as an artist with a
passionate heart, must, according to my firm conviction, take
towards the state of deep depravity of our public art-life.
With the highest esteem and veneration, I remain yours
obediently,
RICHARD WAGNER
ZURICH, September 9th, 1850
43.
DEAREST LISZT,
I must today write you a few additional lines with reference to
my recent long letter.
Karl Ritter arrived here last night from his journey; and from
his account I see that in my surmises as to certain points in the
performance of "Lohengrin," founded chiefly on some striking
remarks in Dingelstedt's notes, I have not hit the right thing.
Ritter tells me that, contrary to what I thought, you have kept
up the tempo of the recitatives according to my indications, and
that therefore the dreaded caprice of the singers, as far, at
least, as the tempo was concerned, had no license. For this also
I must thank you, but am a little perplexed as to the advice I
recently gave you. By keeping up the tempi of the recitatives I
had chiefly intended to shorten the duration of the performance,
but I see now that you had already done the right thing, and
therefore remain astounded at my own error as to the length of
the opera, which is certainly detrimental. My opinion is that if,
as I much desire, the higher context is not to be destroyed by
cuts, the public must be deceived as to the duration of the
performance by your making the singers pronounce the recitatives
as vividly and as speakingly as possible; it is quite possible
for them to sing them in the proper tempo without giving interest
to them by warmth and truth of declamation. Moreover, the
performance will, of its own accord, become more compact as time
goes on. I have made this experience at the performances of my
operas which I conducted myself, the first performances always
lasting a little longer than the subsequent ones, although
nothing had been cut in these. This will probably be the case
with the performance of "Lohengrin" in Weimar, which only now
that I have been able to ask about many difficult details I can
appreciate in its excellence and perfection as regards the
musical portion.
I now come to the principal thing. You cannot believe how
delighted I was to hear some particulars of your music to
"Prometheus." Our friend Uhlig, to whom I attribute excellent
judgment, sends me word that he values this single overture more
than the whole of Mendelssohn. My desire to make its acquaintance
is raised to the highest pitch. Dearest friend, will you be kind
enough to let me have a copy soon, if I ask you particularly? You
would please me immensely, and I already contemplate the
possibility of having it played to me at a concert here in
Zurich. Now and then I shall take an interest in the local
musical performances, and I promise you that your work will not
be heard otherwise than in the most adequate conditions that can
be obtained. Could I also have your overture to Tasso? When I
look upon your whole life and contemplate the energetic turn
which you have given to it of late years, when I further
anticipate your achievements, you may easily imagine how happy I
shall be to give my sincerest and most joyous sympathy to your
works. You extraordinary and amiable man, send me soon what I ask
you.
Enough for today.
I am always and wholly yours,
RICHARD WAGNER
ZURICH, September 11th, 1850
44.
DEAREST FRIEND,
The second performance of your masterpiece has answered my
expectations, and the third and fourth will bring home to every
one the opinion I expressed as soon as we began rehearsing
"Lohengrin," namely, that this work will confer on a public
making itself worthy of understanding and enjoying it more honour
than that public could confer upon the work by any amount of
applause.
"Perish all theatrical mud!" I exclaimed when we tried for the
first time the first scenes of "Lohengrin." "Perish all critical
mud and the routine of artists and the public!" I have added a
hundred times during the last six weeks. At last, and very much
at last, I have the satisfaction to be able to assure you very
positively that your work will be better executed and better
heard and understood from performance to performance. This last
point is, in my opinion, the most important of all, for it is not
only the singers and the orchestras that must be brought up to
the mark to serve as instruments in the dramatic revolution,
which you so eloquently describe in your letter to Zigesar, but
also, and before all, the public, which must be elevated to a
level where it becomes capable of associating itself by sympathy
and intelligent comprehension with conceptions of a higher order
than that of the lazy amusements with which it feeds its
imagination and sensibility at our theatres every day. This must
be done, if need be, by violence, for, as the Gospel tells us,
the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and only those who use
violence will take it.
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 | 7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 |
17 |
18 |
19 |
20 |
21 |
22