Wagner and His Music-Dramas — Themes and Context

ason enough, what with that organization’s habit of letting expense go hang. He labored industriously at making revisions, which included a complete rewrite of the Bacchanalian scene as well as of the music for Venus and Tannhäuser in Act 1.

When he had completed his revisions he played the music for several friends. Charles Nuitter, one of these, reported on that private hearing as follows:

“When we arrived the composer sat down to the piano. He played with indescribable animation and fury. His hands pounded the keys, and the same time he strove to acquaint me with the action of the scene, crying out the entrance of the various groups. ‘Arrival of the fauns and satyrs; all are put to flight; the confusion mounts to its climax,’ he flung at me, and his hands continued to bang the keys, the musical delirium always augmenting. When he was piling on a succession of quivering chords Wagner suddenly cried, ‘Now a crash of thunder. We are all dead!’ At that moment a wagon of paving stones discharged its load into the street, thus producing a prolonged and terrible noise. Wagner turned round and regarded us with stupefaction, his eyes staring wildly. It took us some moments to recover from this stirring of our feelings. Thus it was that I was initiated into the new music.”

The first Paris performance of _Tannhäuser_ took place on March 13, 1861. That was the first of three fiascos in the French capital. The second occurred on March 18. Napoleon III and the Empress both attended, but their presence had no effect on the rest of the audience, whose cat-calls, howls, and kindred strange noises were even louder, if not funnier, than the first time.

The work was given for the third time on March 24. This was not a regular subscription performance, and it seemed to all and sundry that finally a Parisian audience would be honest and unprejudiced in its attitude toward the opera. However, the composer’s enemies had bought out the house and the result was the same. Whereupon Wagner withdrew his score. _Tannhäuser_ was not given again in Paris until thirty-four years later.

Prelude to “Lohengrin”

In the summer of 1845, while Wagner was at Marienbad, he worked out the plan for _Lohengrin_. The libretto he wrote during the following winter. Then came a topsy-turvy scheme of creation. In composing the music he began with the hero’s Narrative in the last act, “because the monologue contained the most significant musical germs in the whole score.” He finished the third act on March 25, 1847, the first act on June 8 of that year, the second act on August 2, and the Prelude on August 28. The orchestration was done during the following winter and spring. Franz Liszt conducted the première of the opera at Weimar on August 28, 1850. The Prelude was played for the first time in concert on January 17, 1853, at the Leipzig Gewandhaus, Julius Rietz conducting.

Discussing the Prelude, William Foster Apthorp wrote:

“Like the hero’s career in the opera, it begins, as it were, in the clouds, then gradually descends farther and farther until it embraces all the lower tones of the orchestra, and then returns to the clouds again. Its single theme is developed in free polyphony by various successive groups of instruments, each of which groups proceeds with free counter-thematic work as the next group enters with the theme. First we have the violins _piano_ in their higher registers; then come the flutes, oboes, and clarinets; then the violas, ’cellos, horns, bassoons, and double-basses; lastly the trumpets, trombones, and the tuba _fortissimo_; then comes the _decrescendo_, ending _pianissimo_ in the high violins and flutes.”

The composer, who could descant with the best of them, paraded his rhetorical gifts on the Prelude (the translation is by William Ashton Ellis):

“Love seemed to have vanished from a world of hatred and quarreling; as a lawgiver she was no longer to be found among the communities of men. Emancipating itself from barren care for gain and possession, the sole arbiter of all worldly intercourse, the human heart’s unquenchable love-longing, again at length craved to appease a want which, the more warmly and intensely it made itself felt under the pressure of reality, was the less easy to satisfy on account of this very reality. It was beyond the confines of the actual world that man’s ecstatic imaginative power fixed the source as well as the output of this incomprehensible impulse of love, and from the desire of a comforting sensuous conception of this supersensuous idea invested it with a wonderful form, which, under the name of the ‘Holy Grail,’ though conceived as actually existing, yet unapproachably far off, was believed in, longed for, and sought for.

“The Holy Grail was the costly vessel out of which, at the Last Supper, our Saviour drank with His disciples, and in which His blood was received when out of love for His brethren He suffered upon the cross, and which till this day has been preserved with lively zeal as the source of undying love; albeit, at one time this cup of salvation was taken away from unworthy mankind, but at length was brought back again from the heights of heaven by a band of angels, and delivered into the keeping of fervently loving, solitary men who, wondrously strengthened and blessed by its presence, and purified in heart, were consecrated as the earthly champions of eternal love.

“This miraculous delivery of the Holy Grail, escorted by an angelic host, and the handing of it over into the custody of highly favored men, was selected by the author of ‘Lohengrin’ for the introduction of his drama, as the subject to be musically portrayed; just as here, for the sake of explanation, he may be allowed to bring it forward as an object for the mental receptive power of his hearers.

“To the enraptured look of the highest celestial longing for love, the clearest blue atmosphere of heaven at first seems to condense itself into a wonderful, scarcely perceptible but magically pleasing vision; with gradually increasing precision the wonder-working angelic host is delineated in infinitely delicate lines as, conveying the holy vessel (the Grail) in its midst, it insensibly descends from the blazing heights of heaven. As the vision grows more and more distinct, as it hovers over the surface of the earth, a narcotic fragrant odor issues from its midst; entrancing vapors well up from it like golden clouds, and overpower the sense of the astonished gazer, who, from the lowest depths of his palpitating heart, feels himself wonderfully urged to holy emotions.

“Now throbs the heart with the pain of ecstasy, now with the heavenly joy which agitates the breast of the beholder; with irresistible might all the repressed germs of love rise up in it, stimulated to a wondrous growth by the vivifying magic of the vision; however much it can expand, it will break at last with vehement longing, impelled to self-sacrifice and toward an ultimate dissolving reveals again in the supremest bliss as, imparting comfort the nearer it approaches, the divine vision reveals itself to our entranced senses, and when at last the holy vessel shows itself in the marvel of undraped reality, and clearly revealed to him to whom it is vouchsafed to behold it, as the Holy Grail, which from out of its divine contents spreads broadcast the sunbeams of highest love, like the lights of a heavenly fire that stirs all hearts with the heat of the flame of its everlasting glow, the beholder’s brain reels—he falls down in a state of adoring annihilation. Yet upon him who is thus lost in love’s rapture the Grail pours down its blessing, with which it designates him as its chosen knight; the blazing flame subsides into an ever-decreasing brightness, which now, like a gasp of breath of the most unspeakable joy and emotion, spreads itself over the surface of the earth and fills the breast of him who adores with a blessedness of which he had no foreboding. With chaste rejoicing, and smilingly looking down, the angelic host mounts again to heaven’s heights; the source of love, which had dried up the earth, has been brought by them to the world again—the Grail they have left in the custody of the pure-minded men, in whose hands its contents overflow as a source of blessing—and the angelic host vanishes in the glorious light of heaven’s blue sky, as, before, it thence came down.”

“Der Ring des Nibelungen”

A colossal work in four parts, the _Ring’s_ central theme is one of redemption. The Norse God Wotan, addicted to the amassing of power, may not achieve it through deceit or treachery. By trickery he obtains from the Nibelung Alberich a ring possessing untold powers, made of the gold of the Rhine. Alberich hisses a curse, in losing it, which only a pure hero acting as a free agent may remove.

Wotan’s attempts to get the ring, his often devious reasoning, and the panoplied purpose of the whole, make of the tetralogy an epic study in the emotions, the humanities, the loyalties, the shortcomings, in short, in the whole moral and spiritual concept of the individual and society.

The Ride of the Valkyries from “Die Walküre”

In the time intervening between _Das Rheingold_ and _Die Walküre_ Wotan has worked out a plan to save the gods from destruction. The ring must not fall into the wrong hands, those of Alberich, for instance, for the wily and greedy creature knows full well its powers. The thing to do, then, is to regain possession of it without “craft or violence.” He must employ some means above such devices. Consequently his plan is to bring into being a hero who shall not be his servitor, but rather the agency for the accomplishment through a free, totally unguided will. Thus we come to the saga of the Walsungs, human descendants of Wotan, and one of them, Siegmund, is the hero chosen.

The Valkyries are the nine daughters of Wotan by the earth goddess of wisdom, Erda. And of these Brünnhilde is Wotan’s favorite. She interferes with her father’s wishes in order to aid Siegmund, however, and she is given the penalty of mortality by her father. The duet in the last act of the opera between Wotan and Brünnhilde is one of the most moving sequences in all Wagner.

The Ride of the Valkyries is an excerpt from the music which leads into Act III, made into a concert piece by Wagner himself. A great rock dominates the scene in the opera. It is the Valkyr Rock where now the maidens are gathering. Fully equipped in shining mail, carrying spears and shields, they ride swiftly through the storm. At the curtain’s rise only four of the maidens are discernible on the stage. The others may be heard announcing their entrance with the exultant Valkyr call. The music surges to great heights of sound, wild, untrammeled, passionate, driven relentlessly by powerful rhythms.

In a letter dated June 25, 1870, Wagner wrote of his wife Cosima, “She has defied every disapprobation and taken upon herself every condemnation. She has borne to me a wonderfully beautiful boy, whom I call boldly Siegfried; he is now growing, together with my work [he was working then on the opera _Siegfried_; hence the name]; he gives me a new long life, which at last has attained a meaning. Thus we get along without the world, from which we have wholly withdrawn.”

The composer wrote the music of the _Idyl_—originally called the _Triebschen Idyl_—as a birthday gift for his wife. On Christmas morning, 1870, Wagner and a group of musicians assembled on the stairs of his home at Triebschen and performed the lovely music, which, cramped though the musicians were because of tight quarters, obtained a fine rendering, according to ear-witnesses.

When the _Idyl_ was first played in Berlin, in 1878, a music critic gave it as gospel that the music was taken from the second act of the opera _Siegfried_. The truth of the matter is that the _Idyl_, while based on several themes from the opera besides that of a folk song, is a complete entity in itself, for the themes were developed in a manner entirely different from their treatment in the opera. In addition to which, it must be remembered that the folk song, _Schlaf’, mein Kind, schlaf’ein_, does not appear in the opera at all.

Forest Murmurs from “Siegfried”

The music for this sequence is taken from the scene before the dragon’s cave in the second act of _Siegfried_. In arranging it for concert use, Wagner gave it the name _Waldweben_ (_Forest Weavings_ or _Forest Murmurs_). The young hero Siegfried is left to his own thoughts by the dwarf Mime. The rustling of the leaves is first heard in D minor, then in B major. Siegfried is daydreaming. He ponders on the question of his origin. He knows that he is not of Mime’s blood, and the clarinet, paralleling, and explaining the idea, intones the theme of the Volsungs.

As his thoughts turn to his mother the Love-Life motive emerges through the ’cellos and violas and double basses, next in all the strings, and finally horns and bassoons take it over. A solo violin plays a subject associated with Freia, goddess of youth and love. The rustling of the leaves is again heard and the theme of the Forest Bird comes in by way of the oboe, flute, clarinet and other wood winds. The music ends in a Vivace which incorporates the Fire, the Siegfried, and the Slumber motives, besides the twittering of the Forest Bird.

Excerpts from “Götterdämmerung”—Siegfried’s Rhine Journey

This music comes between the Prologue and the first act. It is frequently referred to as a “scherzo.” Siegfried has taken leave of his wife Brünnhilde and, exhorted by her, sallies forth on new adventures. The music brings up the hero’s past achievements, whose themes are presented in new guises. They are cleverly interwoven, the pattern being rich in colors and effects as well as in sonorities. Through the orchestral web may be detected threads akin to such thematic ideas as Siegfried’s horn call, the Rhine motive, the motive of Renunciation, the motive of the Rhine Daughters, the motive of the Rheingold and, last, that of the Nibelungs’ Servitude. Climactic and exultant, the music yet gives forth many implications of impending tragedy.

Through the trickery of Hagen, villainous half-brother of Gunther, Siegfried is slain. His body is lifted tenderly by Gunther’s followers and carried back to the hall of the Gibichungs. As that happens on the stage, the orchestra sings out with a giant dirge, lamenting the fall of the Volsungs while reviewing previous moments in the history of the tragic race. There is the reference to the love of Siegmund and Sieglinde from _Die Walküre_. Toward its conclusion the horns and bass trumpet announce sonorously the motive of Siegfried the hero. There is a rhythmic variant of the horn call and with the dying away of the music Brünnhilde is momentarily mentioned.

Brünnhilde’s Immolation

The end of the gigantic _Ring_, specifically Brünnhilde’s scene of immolation, is frequently performed in concert with a soprano soloist. The heroine’s great monologue, delivered in the hall of the Gibichungs, writes finis to a drama that takes four separate operas to tell. In her grief over the death of her hero-husband she stills the “loud, unworthy” lamentations of the others who are gathered about the slain Siegfried. She commands them to erect a funeral pyre and to place the hero’s body upon it. His ring is taken from his finger and she puts it on her own. After applying a torch to the pyre she leaps on her horse Grane and rushes into the flames.

Prelude and ‘Love-Death’ from “Tristan und Isolde”

In 1854, when Wagner was in the midst of composing the _Ring_, the idea for an opera on the Tristan theme came to him. Not till three years later, however, did he begin actual work on it, and the music-drama was finished in August 1859. Complications of various kinds interfered with the production of the opera, but it finally obtained its première at the Royal Court Theater in Munich, on June 10, 1865, under the direction of Hans von Bülow.

Wagner’s version of the tale combines features from numerous legends. Very likely of Celtic origin, the story, as the German composer utilized it, makes room for myriad delvings into psychology and metaphysics, some of which are not easy to follow. We must assume, as Ernest Newman suggests, that the characters and their motivations were perfectly clear to the composer, if they seem not to be altogether to the listener. Here is the essence of the music-drama’s plot, extracted from Wagner’s own description:

We are told of Tristan and Isolde in an ancient love poem, which is “constantly fashioning itself anew, and has been adopted by every European language of the Middle Ages.” Tristan, a faithful vassal of King Marke, woos Isolde for his king, yet not daring to reveal to her his own love. “Isolde, powerless to do otherwise, follows him as a bride to his lord.” In the meantime the Goddess of Love, balked by all this, plans revenge. The Love Potion, which had been intended for the king in order to insure the marriage, is given to Tristan and Isolde to drink, a circumstance which “... opens their eyes to the truth and leads to the avowal that for the future they belong only to each other.... The world, power, fame, splendor, honor, knighthood, fidelity, friendship, all are dissipated like an empty dream. One thing only remains: longing, longing, insatiable longing, forever springing up anew, pining and thirsting. Death, which means passing away, perishing, never awakening, their only deliverance.... Shall we call it death? Or is it the hidden wonder-world from out of which an ivy and vine, entwined with each other, grew upon Tristan’s and Isolde’s grave, as the legend tells us?”

The Prelude, A minor, 6-8, makes a very gradual and long _crescendo_ to a mighty _fortissimo_, followed by a briefer _decrescendo_, which leads to a whispered _pianissimo_. Free as to form and ever widening in scope of development, it offers two chief themes: a phrase, uttered by the ’cellos, is united to another, given to the oboes, to form a subject called the “Love Potion” theme, or the theme of “Longing.” Another theme, again announced by the ’cellos, “Tristan’s Love Glance,” is sensuous, even voluptuous in character.

After the Prelude, the orchestra enters into the “Liebestod” or “Love-Death,” that passionate flow of phrases, taken mostly from the material in the second act Love-Duet. Isolde (in the opera) sings her song of sublimated desire. Franz Liszt is responsible for the application of the term “Liebestod” to that part of the music which originally had been named “Verklärung” by Wagner himself.

Prelude to “Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg”

“The completion of _Die Meistersinger_, Triebschen, Thursday, October 24, 1867, 8 o’clock in the evening, R. W.” These words were inscribed on the last sheet of the manuscript of Wagner’s only operatic comedy. This was some twenty-two years after the very first drafts were drawn at Marienbad. The doctor had ordered a complete rest. But rest to Wagner meant ennui. Perhaps, he thought, he might be able to rest while composing a lighter work. The idea took hold. He gave it considerable thought. He could just about see this airy piece’s “rapid circulation through the European opera houses.” Indeed, he judged that “something thoroughly light and popular” might be just the thing to make his everlasting fame.

Hans Sachs, of course, is the hero of this masterpiece. A historic character, Sachs was built by the composer into something of an ideal of homespun charm and wit and philosophy. But Wagner also evened a score with an old enemy in his composition of this work. The music critic Eduard Hanslick appears as the crotchety, pedantic and unprincipled Beckmesser, thus earning for himself a ridiculous immortality.

How Wagner could have written this opera with all the troubles besetting him is hard to comprehend. Yet no financial snarls, domestic tribulations, romantic attachments or what-not could stay it even though it took years to come forth.

As for the Prelude, Wagner himself has written an interesting analysis, which is here appended: