A SECOND END IN PARIS
"People treat this unfortunate Wagner as a scamp, an
impostor, an idiot."--HECTOR BERLIOZ
The composer now set to work right gladly on his "Walküre." He was
eager to finish it and begin the writing of what was still called
"Jung Siegfried." For a time he was impeded by the illness of his
wife and afterwards his own, but on October 3, 1855, he was able to
send to Liszt the first two acts of "Die Walküre." Liszt and his
beloved Countess Wittgenstein went over them together and both wrote
to Wagner of the marvellous effect which this music made upon them.
The last act was finished in April, 1856, and was also despatched to
Liszt. In October of this year Liszt, the Countess Wittgenstein, and
her daughter went to Zurich to visit Wagner. Of course the score of
"Die Walküre" occupied their attention, and Liszt, Wagner, and the
wife of Kapellmeister Heim gave a rehearsal of the work at the Hotel
Bauer before a number of personal friends. The rehearsal moved the
hearers greatly and, as Mr. Finck notes, they "would have been no
doubt greatly surprised had any one foretold that twenty years would
elapse before this drama would have its first adequate performance."
Together, too, Liszt and Wagner gave an orchestral concert at St.
Gall, on November 3, 1856, when Wagner conducted the "Eroica"
symphony and Liszt his "Orphée" and "Les Préludes." But perhaps the
greatest concert of the Zurich series was that given by Wagner in
May, 1853, when he assembled an orchestra of 72 men from different
parts of Germany, and gave selections from "Lohengrin" as they were
never given before and have probably not often been given since. Of
his visit Liszt wrote in several of his numerous letters. He said to
his friend Dr. Adolf Stern, of Dresden, where the name of Wagner was
certainly familiar:
"In spite of my illness I am spending glorious days with
Wagner, and am satiating myself with his 'Nibelungen'
world, of which our business musicians and chaff-threshing
critics have as yet no suspicion. It is to be hoped that
this tremendous work may succeed in being performed in the
year 1859, and I, on my side, will not neglect anything to
forward this performance as soon as possible--a performance
which certainly implies many difficulties and exertions.
Wagner requires for this purpose a special theatre built
for himself, and a not ordinary acting and orchestral
staff. It goes without saying that the work can only appear
before the world under his own conducting; and if, as is
much to be wished, this should take place in Germany, his
pardon must be obtained before everything."
These remarks of Liszt admirably sum up the situation in regard to
the "Nibelung" dramas. It was long after the date named when they
saw the light of publicity, and in the meantime many events of
significance were to take place. Not the least of these was to be the
temporary abandonment of the beloved Siegfried subject for another
work. This was the great "Tristan und Isolde," which many of Wagner's
admirers regard as his most inspired creation. This work, like the
"Flying Dutchman," the first in which the real Wagner was disclosed,
was the fruit of discouragement. Although, through the liberality of
Liszt and a few others, including the devoted Mathilde Wesendonck
(who is still--August, 1900--living in Berlin), the Wagners were able
to live in comfort, and Minna could afford to make Richard a present
of silk dressing-gowns and even silk trousers for house wear on his
return from London, the composer saw no way to convince the world
that he was not a mere bundle of eccentricities, but a master with
living embodiments of the true theory of the lyric drama. He was sore
at heart, weary of writing a majestic four-night drama which might
never see the light of the stage.
In 1854, while he was at work on "Die Walküre," the stories of
"Tristan" and "Parsifal" had come to his attention, and the plan of
the former work was sketched. In the winter of 1854-55 he wrote to
Liszt: "As I have never in life felt the real bliss of love, I must
erect a monument to the most beautiful of all my dreams, in which,
from beginning to end, that love shall be thoroughly satiated. I have
in my head 'Tristan und Isolde,' the simplest, but most full-blooded
musical conception. With the black flag which floats at the end
of it I shall cover myself to die." In the midst of a letter of
January, 1855, Liszt interrupted the discussion of other matters to
exclaim: "Stop! One thing I forgot to write to you: Your 'Tristan'
is a splendid idea. It may become a glorious work. Do not abandon
it." In the summer of 1856 Wagner wrote again: "I have again two
splendid subjects which I must execute. 'Tristan und Isolde' you
know, and after that the 'Victory,' the most sacred, the most perfect
salvation."
This "Victory"[23] was a Buddhistic subject, which Wagner had in mind
for a short time, but which he abandoned for the superior attractions
of "Parsifal." The leading theme, that of the renunciation of sexual
love by the hero, and the assent to it by the heroine, who had at
first passionately loved the unmoved hero, bore a close resemblance
to the personal purity of Parsifal and to the negation of the desire
to live, pictured in "Tristan" as the highest issue of real love.
These thoughts appealed to Wagner, whose mind at this time was deeply
under the influence of the philosophy of Schopenhauer. The Buddhistic
quietism which prevailed in Schopenhauer's philosophy seemed to
offer a solution to the life-problems confronting Wagner, and it was
natural that he should seek to embody the emotional essence of this
philosophy in his music dramas. In 1854 he sent a copy of the poem of
the Nibelung dramas to Schopenhauer as a mark of his esteem.
[Footnote 23: A sketch of this drama, under the title of "The
Victors," was found among Wagner's papers, dated May 16, 1856. The
hero, Ananda, an absolutely pure man, renounces sexual love. He is
passionately beloved by Prakriti, the beautiful daughter of King
Tchandala. The heroine, after vainly suffering the torments of
unrequited passion, renounces love, and is received into the order of
Buddha by Ananda. The idea of salvation through negation is found in
Wagner's "Tristan" and again in his "Parsifal."]
With all these thoughts active in his mind, the poem of Gottfried
von Strassburg on "Tristan und Isolde" offered him an opportunity
to embody his ideas in what he called the "simplest and most
full-blooded musical conception." He was eager to begin a work which
might possibly be produced, and all at once came the needed final
incentive. Dom Pedro, the Emperor of Brazil, had become interested in
the Wagner movement, and he sent an agent to the composer to ask him
if he would write an opera for the Italian company in Rio Janeiro. He
might name his own terms, provided he would promise to go to Brazil
and conduct the work. Wagner was at first touched by this munificent
offer, but he soon saw the hopelessness of trying to get Italian
opera singers to perform such a music drama as he was about to write.
But the Emperor's offer shaped his resolution, and in the latter
part of June, 1857, he wrote to Liszt: "I have determined finally
to give up my headstrong design of completing the 'Nibelungen.'
I have led my young Siegfried to a beautiful forest solitude and
there have left him under a linden tree, and taken leave of him with
heartfelt tears." And later, in the same letter, he told Liszt that
he had decided to write "Tristan und Isolde" and have it performed at
Strassburg with Niemann and Mme. Meyer.
On the last day of 1857 the first act of "Tristan" was finished.
Wagner now made a trip to Paris, on money borrowed from Liszt, in
the hope of being able to arrange a performance of "Rienzi," but
nothing came of the journey, except that a waiter in the house in
which he lived stole a large part of the advance royalties which
Breitkopf and Härtel had paid him on the completion of the first
act of the new work. He returned to Zurich and there Liszt sent to
him Carl Tausig, the pianist, who became one of his firmest friends
and supporters, and who subsequently made the piano arrangement of
"Die Meistersinger." Tausig, with all his genius, was only a boy
of seventeen at this time, and he could not satisfy the craving of
Wagner for sympathetic intellectual companionship. Unfortunately the
composer had in previous years sought this in the society of Mrs.
Wesendonck, before mentioned, and aroused the jealousy of poor Minna.
This jealousy led in 1856 to an open outbreak, for Wagner wrote to
Praeger, who was on his way back to London after a visit to the
composer, "The devil is loose. I shall leave Zurich at once and come
to you in Paris." But a little later he wrote that the matter had
been smoothed over. This, however, was one of the evidences that this
unhappily assorted union was slowly nearing its dissolution.
In June, 1858, Wagner sketched the second act of "Tristan und
Isolde," and then a desire for quiet and the luxurious atmosphere of
Italy took possession of him. Venice, not having any German alliance,
and there being consequently no danger of his arrest there, seemed to
be the desired place, and thither he went. He wrote the music of the
second act of the opera in Venice. Then came news that a projected
production of "Rienzi" in Munich had been abandoned, and that a
new Intendant, who had no artistic feeling, had gone to reign in
Weimar and make Liszt powerless. On the heels of these misfortunes
came an attempt of the Saxon government to drive him out of Venice.
Disheartened, embarrassed, and in debt, he went to Switzerland and
secluded himself on the shores of the Lake of Lucerne. There in the
summer of 1859 he completed, after four months' work, the third
act of "Tristan." The completed score was placed in the hands of
Breitkopf and Härtel, and then Wagner set to work to find an opening
for its production. Various difficulties arose. In some places where
he could have had singers he dared not set foot. In other places he
could get no competent performers.
Wagner's final departure from Zurich was undoubtedly due to the
action of Mr. Wesendonck. The nature of the attachment between Mrs.
Wesendonck and the composer could no longer be concealed. Wagner
had dedicated to her a sonata and the prelude to "Die Walküre." He
had set words of hers to music. She was his friend, his confidante.
According to M. Belart, in whose "Richard Wagner in Zurich,"
published in Leipsic in 1900, this whole matter was discussed, Wagner
left Zurich finally and suddenly on Aug. 17, 1859. Mr. Wesendonck,
when questioned about the matter in after years, said flatly that
he compelled Wagner to go. He went to Jacob Sulzer, previously
mentioned, borrowed some money, and started for Geneva. Minna Wagner
went to Dresden. This was the beginning of the end between them.
There is some discrepancy in the dates. There is no doubt that Wagner
went to Lucerne when he returned from Venice, but he must have gone
again to Zurich in the course of the summer. At any rate when he went
to Geneva, he was en route for Paris, and the Wesendonck entanglement
was at an end. In 1865 Wagner wrote to the injured husband:
"The incident that separated me from you about six years
ago should be evaded; it has upset me and my life enough
that you recognise me no longer, and that I esteem myself
less and less. All this suffering should have earned your
forgiveness, and it would have been beautiful, noble,
to have forgiven me; but it is useless to demand the
impossible, and I was in the wrong."
It was in September, 1859, that Wagner arrived in the French capital.
He settled in the Rue Newton, near the Arc de Triomphe, and there
he and Minna, who had rejoined him, received their friends every
Wednesday. Among the frequenters of their home were Émile Ollivier,
the French statesman and husband of Liszt's daughter Blandine;
Frédéric Villot, keeper of the imperial museums; Edmond Roche,
afterward the translator of "Tannhäuser"; Hector Berlioz, Carvalho,
director of the Théâtre Lyrique; Gustave Doré, Jules Ferry, Charles
Baudelaire, and A. de Gasparini, afterward one of the biographers of
Wagner.
Later, when the composer had taken a new residence at No. 3, Rue
d'Aumale, there was added to this number Cosima, a younger daughter
of Liszt, married two years previously to Hans von Bülow. By
arrangement with M. Carvalho, Wagner gave three concerts in the
Théâtre des Italiens on Jan. 25, and Feb. 1 and 8, 1860. The overture
to "Tannhäuser" and the prelude to "Tristan und Isolde" were given at
these entertainments. These concerts were pecuniarily disastrous, and
so also were two given in Brussels in March. Both press and public
were nonplussed by Wagner's music, and it remained for Hector Berlioz
to lead, by an article published in the _Gazette Musicale_, in the
subsequent general attack. Meanwhile Wagner was striving to induce
M. Carvalho to produce "Tannhäuser" at the Théâtre Lyrique, when
suddenly an unexpected power intervened.
According to Wagner's account given to Praeger, the Emperor Napoleon
III., in conversation with the Princess Metternich, asked her if she
had heard the latest opera of Prince Poniatowski. She answered that
she had, and that she did not care for such music. "But is it not
good?" asked the Emperor. "No," she responded. "But where is better
music to be got, then?" "Why, your Majesty, you have at the present
moment the greatest composer that ever lived in your capital." "Who
is he?" "Richard Wagner." "Then why do they not give his operas?"
"Because he is in earnest, and would require all kinds of concessions
and much money." "Very well; he shall have carte blanche." The
Emperor accordingly gave orders that "Tannhäuser" should be mounted
at the Grand Opéra. This stroke of fortune came like lightning out of
a clear sky, yet Wagner was not altogether blind to the difficulties
in the way of a satisfactory performance.
With the scenic preparations, which now began, he was delighted, for
the resources and skill of the leading opera house of Europe were at
his disposal. But the lack of singers trained in the theory of the
lyric drama hampered him. He stipulated that Albert Niemann should
be engaged for the title rôle, and that he should have time to learn
the French text. He asked for Faure to create the rôle of Wolfram
for the Parisians, but that new and rising star demanded too large a
salary, and Morelli was engaged for the part. With this singer, and
Mme. Tedesco, the Venus, Wagner had no end of trouble, as they were
Italians and utterly without comprehension of his ideas. Marie Saxe,
who had a lovely voice, was wooden in her acting, and Wagner had to
drive her to movement and life. Edmond Roche's translation of the
text proved to be too rough for use, and finally Charles Nuitter,
who translated Bellini's "Roméo et Juliette" for the Opéra, was
employed to finish the work.
In his anxiety to make himself and his purposes known to the
Parisians Wagner published four of his dramatic poems, prefaced by
a letter on music,[24] in which he endeavoured to set forth his
ideas. M. Adolphe Jullien says of this letter: "As Wagner had in
1860 already written 'Tristan und Isolde,' and as that poem figured
in his book, he instinctively carried the history of his life and of
the development of his ideas beyond the point of 'Tristan,' without
reflecting that he was thereby exceeding his aim, it being simply a
question of preparing people to hear 'Tannhäuser.'" There is no doubt
that this letter did much to confuse those Frenchmen who read it and
to deepen the spirit of opposition to Wagner's reformatory theories.
[Footnote 24: "The Music of the Future," W. Ashton Ellis's
translation of Wagner's Prose Works, Vol. III.]
But despite all these things the production of "Tannhäuser" might
have come to a successful issue but for one difficulty. The
gentlemen of the Jockey Club, who were among the most important of
the subscribers to the Opéra, and who, of course, did not at any
time desire to take the entertainment seriously, were in the habit
of arriving after their dinners in time for the ballet. In the
original version of "Tannhäuser" there was no attempt at a ballet,
and Alphonse Royer, the director of the Grand Opéra, besought Wagner
to introduce one in the hall of song, in the second act. This the
composer peremptorily refused to do, because it would interfere
with the dramatic integrity of the scene. He would consent only to
a rearrangement of the first scene, where, in the revels in the
Venusberg, a ballet with some significance might be introduced. He
therefore rewrote this scene, cutting out the stirring finale of
the overture and raising the curtain on the second appearance of
the bacchanalian music, which was now extended and elaborated so
that a pantomimic ballet might be danced. He also elaborated the
scene between Tannhäuser and Venus, after this ballet, according to
his later conceptions of music drama. The music of this new scene
was written in the style of "Tristan und Isolde," and, at every
performance of the Parisian version of "Tannhäuser," obstinately
refuses to amalgamate in style with the rest of the score. This whole
new scene was beyond the comprehension of the Parisian public of
1861, but might have been tolerated had it not been a direct affront
to the subscribers. A further element of danger lay in the fact that
the conductor was no other than Dietsch, the musician who had failed
with "The Phantom Ship" after Wagner had sold that text to Léon
Pillet.
The first performance took place on Wednesday, March 13, 1861.
After the first act the gentlemen of the Jockey Club went out and
bought all the hunting whistles they could get, and as soon as the
second act began they set up a din which gradually drowned out
the performance except in the forte passages. In the third act
pandemonium reigned, and the thrilling narrative of Tannhäuser
was unheard in the chorus of yells from the auditorium. Wagner's
friends applauded, and the Emperor on several occasions led the
favourable demonstrations, but Wagner was taught that in Paris the
coryphée ranked above high art. Before the second performance,
March 18, Royer succeeded in inducing Wagner to cut out some of the
most familiar parts of the work, a portion of the Venus scene, the
plaintive melody of the shepherd's pipe, the hunting horns and the
appearance of the dogs at the end of the first act, and other similar
things, all now known to every lover of Wagner's work. The gentlemen
of the Jockey Club again drowned the latter half of the opera with
their whistles, despite the plain protest of a large part of the
audience led by the Emperor. The third performance was given on a
Sunday in order that the subscribers might not be present. That the
general public was interested in the opera is proved by the receipts:
First performance, 7,491 francs; second, 8,415; third, 10,764.
Wagner now refused to allow the performances to continue, and as he
had borne much of their expense he left Paris burdened with debts.
But the shrieks of the Jockey Club whistles had resounded across the
Rhine and stirred up a Teutonic indignation, which was eventually
to be of much benefit to him. The French public was not unjust to
Wagner; he knew that and testified to it; but, as Charles Baudelaire
exclaimed in his pamphlet on the episode, "'Tannhäuser' was not even
heard."