Chapter 17

The overture of "Rienzi" is in the accepted form, for the opera was written before Wagner had made his new departure in music, and takes its principal themes, notably Rienzi's prayer for the people and the finale to the first act, from the body of the work. The general style of the whole work is vigorous and tumultuous. The first act opens with a hurly-burly of tumult between the contending factions and the people. The first scene contains a vigorous aria for the hero ("Wohl an so mög es sein"), which leads up to a fiery terzetto ("Adriano du? Wie ein Colonna!") between Rienzi, Irene, and Adriano, followed by an intensely passionate scene ("Er geht und lässt dich meinem Schutz") between the last two. The finale is a tumultuous mass of sound, through which are heard the tones of trumpets and cries of the people. It opens with a massive double chorus ("Gegrüsst, gegrüsst"), shouted by the people on the one side and the monks in the Lateran on the other, accompanied by an andante movement on the organ. It is interrupted for a brief space by the ringing appeal of Rienzi "Erstehe, hohe Roma, neu," and then closes with an energetic andante, a quartet joining the choruses. This finale is clearly Italian in form, and much to Wagner's subsequent disgust was described by Hanslick as a mixture of Donizetti and Meyerbeer, and a clear presage of the coming Verdi.

The second act opens with a stately march, introducing the messengers of peace, who join in a chorus of greeting, followed by a second chorus of senators and the tender of submission made by the nobles. A terzetto between Adriano, Orsini, and Colonna, set off against a chorus of the nobles, leads up to the finale. It opens with a joyful chorus ("Erschallet feier Klänge"), followed by rapid dialogue between Orsini and Colonna on the one hand and Adriano and Rienzi on the other. A long and elaborate ballet intervenes, divided into several numbers,--an Introduction, Pyrrhic Dance, Combat of Roman Gladiators and Cavaliers, and the Dance of the Apotheosis, in which the Goddess of Peace is transformed to the Goddess, protector of Rome. The scene abruptly changes, and the act closes with a great ensemble in which the defiance of the conspirators, the tolling of bells, the chants of the monks, and the ferocious outcries of the people shouting for revenge are mingled in strong contrasts.

The third act is full of tumult. After a brief prelude, amid the ringing of bells and cries of alarm, the people gather and denounce the treachery of the nobles, leading up to a spirited call to arms by Rienzi ("Ihr Römer, auf"). The people respond in furious chorus, and as the sound of the bells and battle-cries dies away Adriano enters. His scene opens with a prayer ("Gerechter Gott") for the aversion of carnage, which changes to an agitated allegro ("Wo war ich?") as he hears the great bell of the Capitol tolling the signal for slaughter. The finale begins with a massive march, as the bells and sounds of alarm are heard approaching again, and bands of citizens, priests and monks, the high clergy, senators and nobles, pass and repass in quick succession, at last followed by Rienzi, which is the signal for the great battle-hymn, "Santo spirito cavaliere," which is to be sung with great fire and energy, accompanied by great and small bells ringing behind the scenes, the clash of swords upon shields, and full power of chorus and orchestra. A dialogue follows between Adriano and Rienzi, and then the various bands disappear singing the ritornelle of the hymn. A great duet ("Lebwohl, Irene") ensues between Adriano and Irene, which in its general outlines reminds one of the duet between Raoul and Valentin in "The Huguenots." At its conclusion, after a prayer by the chorus of women, the battle hymn is heard again in the distance, gradually approaching, and the act closes with a jubilee chorus ("Auf! im Triumpf zum Capitol"), welcoming the return of the conquerors.

The fourth act is short, its principal numbers being the introduction, terzetto and chorus ("Wer war's der euch hierher beschied?"), and the finale, beginning with a somewhat sombre march of the cortége accompanying Rienzi to the church, leading to the details of the conspiracy scene, and closing with the malediction of the monks, "Vae, vae tibi maledicto." The last act opens with an impressive prayer by Rienzi ("Allmacht'ger Vater"), which leads to a tender duet ("Verlässt die Kirche mich") as Irene enters, closing with a passionate aria by Rienzi ("Ich liebte glühend"). The duet is then resumed, and leads to a second and intensely passionate duet ("Du hier Irene!") between Adriano and Irene. The finale is brief, but full of energy, and is principally choral. The dénouement hurries, and the tragedy is reached amid a tumultuous outburst of voices and instruments. Unlike Wagner's other operas, in "Rienzi" set melody dominates, and the orchestra, as in the Italian school, furnishes the accompaniments. We have the regular overture, aria, duet, trio, and concerted finale; but after "Rienzi" we shall observe a change, at last becoming so radical that the composer himself threw aside his first opera as unworthy of performance.

THE FLYING DUTCHMAN.

"Der Fliegende Holländer," a romantic opera in three acts, words by the composer, the subject taken from Heinrich Heine's version of the legend, was first produced at Dresden, Jan. 2, 1843, with Mme. Schröder-Devrient and Herr Wechter in the two principal rôles. It was also produced in London in 1870 at Drury Lane as "L'Ollandose dannato," by Signor Arditi, with Mlle. Di Murska, Signors Foli, Perotti, and Rinaldini, and Mr. Santley in the leading parts; in 1876, by Carl Rosa as "The Flying Dutchman," an English version; and again in 1877 as "Il Vascello fantasma." In this country the opera was introduced in its English form by Miss Clara Louise Kellogg.

Wagner conceived the idea of writing "The Flying Dutchman" during the storm which overtook him on his voyage from Riga to Paris. He says in his Autobiography: "'The Flying Dutchman,' whose intimate acquaintance I had made at sea, continually enchained my fancy. I had become acquainted, too, with Heinrich Heine's peculiar treatment of the legend in one portion of his 'Salon.' Especially the treatment of the delivery of this Ahasuerus of the ocean (taken by Heine from a Dutch drama of the same title) gave me everything ready to use the legend as the libretto of an opera. I came to an understanding about it with Heine himself, drew up the scheme, and gave it to M. Léon Pillet [manager of the Grand Opera], with the proposition that he should have a French libretto made from it for me." Subsequently M. Pillet purchased the libretto direct from Wagner, who consented to the transaction, as he saw no opportunity of producing the opera in Paris. It was then set by Dietsch as "Le Vaisseau fantôme," and brought out in Paris in 1842. In the mean time, not discouraged by his bad fortune, Wagner set to work, wrote the German verse, and completed the opera in seven weeks for Dresden, where it was finally performed, as already stated. Unlike "Rienzi," it met with failure both in Dresden and Berlin; but its merits were recognized by Spohr, who encouraged him to persevere in the course he had marked out.

The plot of the opera is very simple. A Norwegian vessel, commanded by Daland, compelled by stress of weather, enters a port not far from her destination. At the same time a mysterious vessel, with red sails and black hull, commanded by the wandering Flying Dutchman, who is destined to sail the seas without rest until he finds a maiden who will be faithful until death, puts into the same port. The two captains meet, and Daland invites the stranger to his home. The two at last progress so rapidly in mutual favor that a marriage is agreed upon between the stranger and Senta, Daland's daughter. The latter is a dreamy, imaginative girl, who, though she has an accepted lover, Eric, is so fascinated with the legend of the stranger that she becomes convinced she is destined to save him from perdition. When he arrives with her father she recognizes him at once, and vows eternal constancy to him. In the last act, however, Eric appears and reproaches Senta with her faithlessness. The stranger overhears them, and concludes that as she has been recreant to her former lover, so too she will be untrue to him. He decides to leave her; for if he should remain, her penalty would be eternal death. As his mysterious vessel sails away Senta rushes to a cliff, and crying out that her life will be the price of his release, hurls herself into the sea, vowing to be constant to him even in death. The phantom vessel sinks, the sea grows calm, and in the distance the two figures are seen rising in the sunlight never to be parted.

The overture characterizes the persons and situations of the drama, and introduces the motives which Wagner ever after used so freely,--among them the curse resting upon the Dutchman, the restless motion of the sea, the message of the Angel of Mercy personified in Senta, the personification of the Dutchman, and the song of Daland's crew. The first act opens with an introduction representing a storm, and a characteristic sailors' chorus, followed by an exquisite love-song for tenor ("Mit Gewitter und Sturm"), and a grand scena of the Dutchman ("Die Frist ist um"), which lead up to a melodious duet between the Dutchman and Daland. The act closes with the sailors' chorus as the two vessels sail away.

After a brief instrumental prelude, the second act opens in Daland's home, where the melancholy Senta sits surrounded by her companions, who are spinning. To the whirring accompaniment of the violins they sing a very realistic spinning song ("Summ' und brumm du gutes Mädchen"), interrupted at intervals by the laughter of the girls as they rally Senta upon her melancholy looks. Senta replies with a weird and exquisitely melodious ballad ("Johohae! träfft ihr das Schiff im Meere an"), in which she tells the story of the Flying Dutchman, and anticipates her own destiny. The song is full of intense feelings and is characterized by a motive which frequently recurs in the opera, and is the key to the whole work. A duet follows between Eric and Senta, the melodious character of which shows that Wagner was not yet entirely freed from Italian influences. A short duet ensues between Senta and her father, and then the Dutchman appears. As they stand and gaze at each other for a long time, the orchestra meanwhile supplying the supposed emotions of each, we have a clew to the method Wagner was afterwards to employ so successfully. A duet between Senta and the Dutchman ("Wie aus der Ferne") and a terzetto with Daland close the act.

The third act opens with another sailors' chorus ("Steuermann, lass' die Wacht"), and a brisk dialogue between them and the women who are bringing them provisions. The latter also hail the crew of the Dutchman's vessel, but get no reply until the wind suddenly rises, when they man the vessel and sing the refrain with which the Dutchman is continually identified. A double chorus of the two crews follows. Senta then appears accompanied by Eric, who seeks to restrain her from following the stranger in a very dramatic duet ("Was muss ich hören?"). The finale is made up of sailors' and female choruses, and a trio between Senta, Daland, and the Dutchman, which are woven together with consummate skill, and make a very effective termination to the weird story. There are no points in common between "The Flying Dutchman" and "Rienzi," except that in the former Wagner had not yet clearly freed himself from conventional melody. It is interesting as marking his first step towards the music of the future in his use of motives, his wonderful treatment of the orchestra in enforcing the expression of the text, and his combination of the voices and instrumentation in what he so aptly calls "The Music-Drama."

TANNHÄUSER

"Tannhäuser und der Singerkrieg auf Wartburg" ("Tannhäuser and the singers' contest at the Wartburg"), a romantic opera in three acts, words by the composer, was first produced at the Royal Opera, Dresden, Oct. 20, 1845, with Mme. Schröder-Devrient and Herr Niemann as Elizabeth and Tannhäuser. Its first performance in Paris was on March 13, 1861; but it was a failure after three representations, and was made the butt of Parisian ridicule, even Berlioz joining in the tirade. In England it was brought out in Italian at Covent Garden, May 6, 1876, though its overture was played by the London Philharmonic orchestra in 1855, Wagner himself leading.

In the spring of 1842 Wagner returned from Paris to Germany, and on his way to Dresden visited the castle of Wartburg, in the Thuringian Valley, where he first conceived the idea of writing "Tannhäuser." The plot was taken from an old German tradition, which centres about the castle where the landgraves of the thirteenth century instituted peaceful contests between the Minnesingers and knightly poets. Near this castle towers the Venusberg, a dreary elevation, which, according to popular tradition, was inhabited by Holda, the goddess of Spring. Proscribed by Christianity, she took refuge in its caverns, where she was afterwards confounded with the Grecian Venus. Her court was filled with nymphs and sirens, who enticed those whose impure desires led them to its vicinity, and lured them into the caverns, from which they were supposed never to return. The first act opens in this court, and reveals Tannhäuser, the knight and minstrel, under the sway of Venus. In spite of her fascinations he succeeds in tearing himself away, and we next find him at the castle of Wartburg, the home of Hermann the Landgrave, whose daughter Elizabeth is in love with him. At the minstrel contest he enters into the lists with the other Minnesingers, and, impelled by a reckless audacity and the subtle influence of Venus, sings of the attractions of sensual pleasures. Walter, of the Vogelweide, replies with a song to virtue. Tannhäuser breaks out in renewed sensual strains, and a quarrel ensues. The knights rush upon him with their swords, but Elizabeth interposes and saves his life. He expresses his penitence, makes a pilgrimage to Rome and confesses to the Pope, who replies that, having tasted the pleasures of hell, he is forever damned, and, raising his crosier, adds: "Even as this wood cannot blossom again, so there is no pardon for thee." Elizabeth prays for him in her solitude, but her prayers apparently are of no avail. At last he returns dejected and hopeless, and in his wanderings meets Wolfram, another minstrel, also in love with Elizabeth, to whom he tells the sad story of his pilgrimage. He determines to return to the Venusberg. He hears the voices of the sirens luring him back. Wolfram seeks to detain him, but is powerless until he mentions the name of Elizabeth, when the sirens vanish and their spells lose their attraction. A funeral procession approaches in the distance, and on the bier is the form of the saintly Elizabeth. He sinks down upon the coffin and dies. As his spirit passes away his pilgrim's staff miraculously bursts out into leaf and blossom, showing that his sins have been forgiven.

The overture to the opera is well known by its frequent performances as a concert number. It begins with the pilgrim's song, which, as it dies away, is succeeded by the seductive spells of the Venusberg and the voices of the sirens calling to Tannhäuser. As the whirring sounds grow fainter and fainter, the pilgrim's song is again heard gradually approaching, and at last closing the overture in a joyous burst of harmony. The first act opens with the scene in the Venusberg, accompanied by the Bacchanale music, which was written in Paris by Wagner after the opera was finished and had been performed. It is now known as "the Parisian Bacchanale." It is followed by a voluptuous scene between Tannhäuser and Venus, a long dialogue, during which the hero, seizing his harp, trolls out a song ("Doch sterblich, ach!"), the theme of which has already been given out by the overture, expressing his weariness of her companionship. The second scene transports us to a valley, above which towers the castle of Wartburg. A young shepherd, perched upon a rock, sings a pastoral invocation to Holda ("Frau Holda kam aus dem Berg hervor"), the strains of his pipe (an oboe obligato) weaving about the stately chorus of the elder pilgrims ("Zu dir wall' ich, mein Herr und Gott") as they come along the mountain paths from the castle. The scene, which is one of great beauty, closes with the lament of Tannhäuser ("Ach! schwer drückt mich der Sünden Last"), intermingled with the receding song of the pilgrims, the ringing of church-bells in the distance, and the merry notes of hunters' horns as the Landgrave and his followers approach. The meeting with Tannhäuser leads to an expressive septet, in which Wolfram has a very impressive solo ("Als du in kühnem Sange").

The second act opens in the singers' hall of the Wartburg. Elizabeth, entering joyfully, greets it in a recitation ("Froh grüss ich dich, geliebter Raum"), if we may so term it, which is characterized by a joyous but dignified dramatic appeal, recalling the scenes of her youth. The interview between Tannhäuser and Elizabeth, which follows, gives rise to a long dialogue, closing with a union of the two voices in the charming duet, "Gepriesen sei die Macht." Then follows the grand march and chorus, "Freudig begrüssen wir die edle Halle," announcing the beginning of the song contest. The stirring rhythm and bold, broad outlines of this march are so well known that it is needless to dwell upon it. The scene of the contest is declamatory throughout, and full of animation and spirit; its most salient points being the hymn of Wolfram ("O Himmel lasst dich jetzt erflehen") in honor of ideal love, and Elizabeth's appeal to the knights to spare Tannhäuser ("Zurück von ihm"), which leads up to a spirited septet and choral ensemble closing the act.

In the third act we are once more in the valley of the Wartburg. After a plaintive song by Wolfram ("Wohl wusst ich hier sie im Gebet zu finden"), the chorus of the returning pilgrims is heard in the distance, working up to a magnificent crescendo as they approach and cross the stage. Elizabeth, who has been earnestly watching them to find if Tannhäuser be of their number, disappointed, sinks upon her knees and sings the touching prayer, "Allmächt'ge Jungfrau, hör mein Flehen." As she leaves the scene, Wolfram takes his harp and sings the enchanting fantasy to the evening star, "O, du mein holder Abendstern,"--a love-song to the saintly Elizabeth. Tannhäuser makes his appearance. A long declamatory dialogue ensues between himself and Wolfram, in which he recites the story of his pilgrimage. The scene is one of extraordinary power, and calls for the highest vocal and dramatic qualities in order to make it effective. From this point on, the tragedy hastens. There is the struggle once more with the sirens, and amid Wolfram's touching appeals and Tannhäuser's exclamations is heard the enticement of the Venus music. But at the name "Elizabeth" it dies away. The mists grow denser as the magic crew disappears, and through them is seen a light upon the Wartburg. The tolling of bells and the songs of mourners are heard as the cortége approaches. As Tannhäuser dies, the pilgrims' chorus again rises in ecstasy, closing with a mighty shout of "Hallelujah!" and the curtain falls.

LOHENGRIN.

"Lohengrin," a romantic opera in three acts, words by the composer, was first produced at Weimar, Aug. 28, 1850, the anniversary of Goethe's birthday, under the direction of Franz Liszt, and with the following cast of the leading parts:--

LOHENGRIN Herr BECK. TELRAMUND Herr MILDE. KING Herr HOFER. ELSA Frau AGATHE. ORTRUD Fraülein FASTLINGER.

"Lohengrin" was begun in Paris, and finished in Switzerland during the period in which Wagner was director of the musical society as well as of the orchestra at the city theatre of Zurich, whither he had fled to escape the penalties for taking part in the political agitations and subsequent insurrection of 1849. Though it manifests a still further advancement in the development of his system, it was far from being composed according to the abstract rules he had laid down. He says explicitly on this point, in his "Music of the Future:" "The first three of these poems--'The Flying Dutchman,' 'Tannhäuser,' and 'Lohengrin'--were written by me, their music composed, and all (with the exception of 'Lohengrin') performed upon the stage, before the composition of my theoretical writings."

The story of Lohengrin, the son of Parsifal, upon which Wagner has based his drama, is taken from many sources, the old Celtic legend of King Arthur, his knights, and the Holy Grail being mixed with the distinctively German legend of a knight who arrives in his boat drawn by a swan. The version used by Wagner is supposed to be told by Wolfram von Eschenbach, the Minnesinger, at one of the Wartburg contests, and is in substance as follows: Henry I., King of Germany, known as "the Fowler," arrives at Antwerp for the purpose of raising a force to help him expel the Hungarians, who are threatening his dominions. He finds Brabant in a condition of anarchy. Gottfried, the young son of the late Duke, has mysteriously disappeared, and Telramund, the husband of Ortrud, daughter of the Prince of Friesland, claims the dukedom. The claimant openly charges Elsa, sister of Gottfried, with having murdered him to obtain the sovereignty, and she is summoned before the King to submit her cause to the ordeal of battle between Telramund and any knight whom she may name. She describes a champion whom she has seen in a vision, and conjures him to appear in her behalf. After a triple summons by the heralds, he is seen approaching on the Scheldt, in a boat drawn by a swan. Before the combat Lohengrin betroths himself to Elsa, naming only the condition that she shall never question him as to his name or race. She assents, and the combat results in Telramund's defeat and public disgrace.

In the second act occur the bridal ceremonies, prior to which, moved by Ortrud's entreaties, Elsa promises to obtain a reprieve for Telramund from the sentence which has been pronounced against him. At the same time Ortrud takes advantage of her success to instil doubts into Elsa's mind as to her future happiness and the faithfulness of Lohengrin.

In the next scene, as the bridal cortége is about to enter the minster, Ortrud claims the right of precedence by virtue of her rank, and Telramund publicly accuses Lohengrin of sorcery. The faith of Elsa, however, is not shaken. The two conspirators are ordered to stand aside, the train enters the church, and Elsa and Lohengrin are united.