=Wagner’s The Flying Dutchman—No. 3.=
_An original article written for_ THE SCRAP BOOK.
Footnote 1:
This series began in THE SCRAP BOOK for August. Single copies, 10c.
[Sidenote: =The Flying Dutchman.=]
Ten weeks after the production of “Rienzi,” the Dresden Theater produced
Wagner’s new opera, “The Flying Dutchman,” which had been composed in
seven weeks after the completion of “Rienzi.” Much to the surprise of
Wagner and his friends, “The Flying Dutchman” met with a cold reception,
and served to slam shut in Wagner’s face the door of popularity which
“Rienzi” had opened. The work was inadequately staged and sung; but a
more effective cause of its failure lay in the fact that it was a new
kind of opera, whose method the public did not understand.
Wagner had begun to apply his theory of leading motives, or reminiscent
melodies. These motives are phrases of a few notes rendered by the
orchestra, each of which symbolizes a character, a psychological mood,
or an event of dramatic weight.
While listening to the story which the orchestra is telling, one may
without difficulty foretell the entrance of a character, the approach of
doom, or the fateful result of an action. From these motives, modulated
through strange keys and sung by instruments of differing colors, the
scores of Wagner’s late operas, from “Die Meistersinger” on, were in
their entirety composed.
❧ ❧ ❧
[Sidenote: =Wagner.=]
Wagner received his idea for “The Flying Dutchman” from a dramatic
episode in his own life. At the time of the production of his opera,
“The Novice of Palermo,” he was living beyond his means in Russia, in
the town of Riga.
The failure of his opera left him heavily in debt, and the importunities
of creditors decided him to escape in disguise from Russian territory.
Minna, his wife, masqueraded as the wife of a lumberman, who took her as
far as Pillau, in north Prussia, to which place Wagner was assisted by a
different route. From that seaport he embarked with his wife, an opera
and a half, a diminutive purse, and a Newfoundland dog, on a
sailing-vessel to London, and thence to Paris.
Before leaving Riga, Wagner had read the legend of the Flying Dutchman,
who was condemned to sail forever till the love of a faithful woman
should release him from this curse. Among the wild storms of Wagner’s
own voyage, in the wild romance of the passage through Northern fiords,
he became obsessed by the story.
Perhaps it was not only the charm of the music of the sea and the lilt
of the sailor’s songs which inspired him, but also his own heart’s
craving for a cessation from wandering, and a home blessed by peace.
❧ ❧ ❧
[Sidenote: =Argument.=]
When the curtain rises we gaze on a wide storm-tossed ocean; the ship of
the Norwegian mariner, _Daland_, lies at anchor near shore. Presently
the sails of the _Flying Dutchman’s_ vessel emerge, blood-red, from the
blackness of the storm. The _Dutchman_ steps ashore, for another term of
seven years is past, and he is free to seek once more on earth the love
of a faithful woman, whose devotion shall save him from the curse of
wandering.
When _Daland_ reappears on deck he sees the _Dutchman_ and greets him,
although he is a stranger, with open-hearted cordiality. The _Dutchman_
begs asylum for a few days in _Daland’s_ home, a few miles away,
offering _Daland_ in return a share of the treasures he has amassed. To
this _Daland_ consents.
“Have you a daughter?” asks the _Dutchman_.
“A beautiful daughter named Senta,” _Daland_ answers.
Then, with the precipitancy characteristic of all Wagner’s lovers, the
_Dutchman_ cries:
“Let her be my wife!”
_Daland_, gazing on the treasures which the _Dutchman_ has shown him,
joyously gives his permission.
The second act shows us a room in _Daland’s_ house, where _Senta’s_
friends are sitting before wheels, gaily singing and spinning. _Senta_
herself sits apart, gazing sentimentally at a portrait over the door—the
portrait of the _Flying Dutchman_.
The gay song of her friends irritates her, and she bids them cease.
“Then sing us a better song yourself!” they cry.
_Senta_ accepts the challenge, and sings the ballad of “The Flying
Dutchman.” At its close she jumps up and cries that she will be the
woman to save the suffering mariner.
A few minutes later _Daland_ enters, accompanied by the _Dutchman_.
_Senta’s_ eyes leap away from her father to the man beside him.
Speechless and immobile she stares at the face of her dreams.
“Father, who is this stranger?” she breathes.
And _Daland_ whispers that he is a rich mariner who has come to woo her,
and whom she must favor.
_Daland_ then leaves them alone. For long moments they stare at each
other, while the passion of love for the first time fills the
_Dutchman’s_ heart, and _Senta_ sees her fancies take form in reality.
When _Daland_ returns, _Senta_ has plighted her faith in the arms of her
long-desired lover.
The third act presents the sea again. Two ships lie at anchor. That of
_Daland_, which is gay with lights and movement, and the fantom ship of
the _Dutchman_, dark and silent. Suddenly the sea, calm elsewhere,
begins to rise about the ship of the _Flying Dutchman_.
Tongues of light shriek about its masts, a storm howls, the crew
appears, and in satanic strains taunt the captain because he has not
even yet found a faithful woman. Then suddenly the sea subsides, and
darkness and silence again cover the ship.
_Senta_ comes out of the door of her house, accompanied by a suitor,
Erik. _Erik_ pleads with her not to marry the _Dutchman_, but to renew
that affection for himself which she must, he says, formerly have felt.
He reminds her of an occasion when she stood, her arm about his neck,
her hand in his.
The _Dutchman_ has drawn near, quite unperceived by either one of them,
and has heard this tale. Ignorant of _Senta’s_ passion for himself, and
now believing her to be but a mere flirt, he rushes forward, crying,
“Farewell, Senta!” Then, pointing to the anchored ship, whose blood-red
sails are being hoisted, he cries:
“I am the Flying Dutchman!”
As he leaps on board, the vessel moves out of the harbor. _Senta_ runs
to a rock, from which she plunges after her lover into the sea.
As she does so, the curse is lifted, the fantom ship falls apart, and
_Senta_ and the _Flying Dutchman_ together arise transfigured from the
waves.