Richard Wagner, My Life. Translated by Andrew Gay.
Edited by Mary Whittall. (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge
University Press, 1983).
pp. 644-45 [1861]: "I stopped first of
all at Karlsruhe for another interview with the Grand Duke,
was accorded the same friendly reception, and got permission
to engage in Vienna those singers I might need for a model
performance of Tristan at the theatre in Karlsruhe. Armed
with this command, I went on to Vienna, where I stayed at
the Archduke Karl and awaited the fulfillment of a promise
Kapellmeister Esser had made by letter to put on a few
performances of my operas for me. It was here I first heard
my Lohengrin performed on the stage. Although the opera had
already been given very frequently, the whole ensemble got
together for the complete rehearsal I had requested. The
orchestra immediately played the prelude with such beauty
and warmth, and the voices of the singers and their other
good qualities were displayed to such good advantage in the
performance of a work they already knew well that, overcome
by these impressions, I lost all inclination to criticize
any aspect of the production. People seemed to notice how
deeply moved I was, and to Dr Hanslick this no doubt
appeared the proper moment to have himself amicably
introduced to me, while I was sitting on the stage and
listening; I greeted him shortly as if he were entirely
unknown to me, whereupon the tenor Ander introduced him to
me again with the comment that this was my old-acquaintance
Dr Hanslick; I replied laconically that I remembered Dr
Hanslick very well, and turned back to the rehearsal. It
seems my Viennese friends now had the same experience as
previously my London acquaintances, when they had tried to
direct my attention to the most fearsome critic and found me
disinclined to any such gesture. This fellow, who, then
still a young student, had attended one of the first
performances of Tannhäuser in Dresden and had written
about the work with glowing enthusiasm, had since developed
into one of the most vicious opponents of my work, as had
been amply demonstrated on the occasion of productions of my
operas in Vienna. Those members of the opera company well
disposed toward me seemed henceforth to have no greater
concern than to effect a reconciliation between me and this
critic; as they did not succeed, those who ascribed to the
enmity thus aroused the ensuing failure of every undertaking
in which I counted on Viennese support may not have been far
wrong....I was able to go about the real business I had in
mind. The academic young of Vienna had wanted to do me the
honor of a torchlight procession, but I declined this,
thereby gaining Esser's wholehearted approval, in
particular. Together with the highest authorities at the
Opera, he began considering how these triumphs could be
exploited. I presented myself to Count Lanskoronsky,
Comptroller of the Imperial Court, who had been described to
me as a strange man who knew absolutely nothing about art
and its requirements. When I submitted my appeal that he
should give the principal singers at his opera house, namely
Frau Dustmann (formerly Luise Meyer), Herr Beck, as well as
possibly Herr Ander, leave at some future time to
participate in the performance of Tristan I was planning for
Karlsruhe, the old gentleman replied dryly that this would
not be possible. He thought it far more reasonable, given
the fact that I was satisfied with his ensemble, to give my
new work in Vienna. I promptly lost the courage necessary to
oppose this proposition.
As I was descending the steps of the Hofburg meditating
about this new turn of events, I was met at the gate by a
stately gentleman of unusually sympathetic countenance, who
offered to conduct me in his carriage to my hotel. This was
Joseph Standhartner, a famous society doctor and an
earnest devotee of music, destined henceforth to be a
staunch friend for life.
pp. 660 [1861]: "[O]n my last visit to Vienna
[Kolatschek] had called on me to offer the hospitality of
his house if I should ever return for a longer stay, in
order to spare me the unpleasantness of residing in a hotel.
For reasons of economy alone, very urgent at the time, I had
willingly accepted this offer, and now drove with my luggage
directly to the address he had given me. To my astonishment
I discovered at once that it was in a very remote suburb,
virtually without any transport to Vienna. Moreover, the
house was quite deserted, for Kolatschek had gone off with
his family for a summer vacation in Hutteldorf; with some
difficulty I unearthed an old servant who had been given
some vague idea by her employer that I was to be expected.
She showed me to a little room where I was to sleep, if I
wanted; there appeared to be no arrangements for laundry or
any other service. Greatly put out by this disappointment, I
first went back into the city in order to wait for
Kolatschek in a café near St Stephen's square where,
according to the maid, he would show up at a particular
hour. I sat there for a long time, repeatedly asking after
the man I expected to meet, when suddenly I saw
Standhartner come in. His utter amazement at finding
me here was intensified, as he told me, by the fact that he
had never before entered this particular café. It was
only a peculiar coincidence that had led him there on this
day and at that time. When I informed him of my situation he
at once became incensed that I should be living in the most
remote part of Vienna when I had such urgent business in the
middle of the city, and he immediately offered me his own
home, which he was about to leave for six weeks with his
family, as a temporary abode. An attractive niece
[Seraphine Mauro], who was living in the same house
with her mother and sister, would take care of breakfast and
the necessary services. I would thus be able to make myself
comfortable with the whole house at my disposal. He
jubilantly led me to the house, which had already been
vacated by his family to spend their summer holidays in
Salzburg. Kolatschek was notified, my bag brought in, and
for several days I enjoyed Standhartner's company as
well as his splendid hospitality. But I also had to
recognize a number of new complications for my situation in
the further news my friends gave me. The rehearsals
scheduled the previous year for this time (I had arrived in
Vienna on August 14th) had already been postponed
indefinitely, because the tenor Ander had reported trouble
with his voice. Upon hearing this I at once came to the
conclusion that my stay in Vienna would be pointless; yet I
could not think anybody would have any idea where I should
turn to pursue any constructive purpose."
p. 661 [1861]: "Princess Metternich, who had
sensed my difficulty in these matters when I left Paris, had
recommended me most heartily in Vienna to the family of
Count Nakos, of whose wife she had spoken to me with
particular emphasis. I had now also made the acquaintance
through Standhartner, during the few days I spent
with him before he left, of young Prince Rudolf
Liechtenstein, known to his friends solely as 'Rudi'. He had
been commended warmly to me as a fervent admirer of my music
by his doctor, with whom he was on close terms. I often met
him for meals at the Archduke Karl after Standhartner
had rejoined his family, and there we agreed upon a plan
to visit Count Alakos at his estate, Schwarzau, some
distance away."
p. 666 [1861]: "While this whole Tristan affair
was running its endless course like some chronic illness,
Standhartner had returned at the end of September
with his family. Consequently the next thing I had to do was
to look about for a residence, which I found in the Hotel
Empress Elizabeth. Through my cordial association with my
friend's family, I got to know his wife [Wilhelmina]
and three [step]sons [Gustav, Karl and
Franz], as well as a daughter [Wilhelmina]
from her first marriage, plus another daughter
[Mathilde] from her second with Standhartner.
With regard to my stay in this congenial home, I would
henceforth greatly miss the kindly care devoted to me by the
aforementioned niece Seraphine, who was not only
tireless in her solicitude but also an amusing companion.
Because of her dainty figure and hair always curled
'à l'enfant ', I had named her 'the doll'. Now I
found it more difficult to get along in a gloomy hotel room.
My living expenses also increased severely."
p. 669 [1862]: "[M]y only worry was to arrange things so
that I could leave Vienna and transfer to Paris in a
dignified way. In this, an arrangement made through the
Standhartners' intermediation, involving an offer by
the management to pay me a part of the fee stipulated for
Tristan, seemed to afford some help."
p. 703-04 [1862]: "In Mainz I saw Friederike Meyer
again....As I was also about to leave for Vienna, she was
pleased to be able to make part of the journey with me,
because she expected to stop for one day in Nuremburg where
I could meet her for the rest of the trip. This we did and
arrived in Vienna together, where she went to the Hotel
Munsch, while I again took up residence in my already
familiar Empress Elizabeth....Friederike's own condition
soon aroused my most intense concern. She had contracted for
three guest performances at the Burgtheater without bearing
in mind how unfit she was at that time to make a favorable
impression in the theater, particularly before a Viennese
audience; the severe sickness from which she had recovered
only in the most turbulent circumstances had disfigured her
by making her unduly thin; in addition, her head had grown
virtually bald, and yet she insisted on refusing to use a
wig. The enmity of her sister had alienated the members of
the Burgtheater company, and as a result of all this, as
well as an inept choice of roles, her appearances were a
failure, and there could be no question of a permanent
engagement. Although she grew steadily weaker and suffered
from constant insomnia, she still tried to conceal her true
situation from me out of courageous reticence. At a somewhat
cheaper inn, The City of Frankfurt, she now intended, as she
did not seem to be embarrassed for funds, to spare her
nerves as much as possible and await an improvement: at my
request she summoned Standhartner, who didn't seem to
be able to help her very much.
"While these matters involved me in all sorts of
difficult complications, I had been keeping up my old
acquaintances in Vienna. A strange incident' had occurred at
the outset of this visit. I was to read my Meistersinger
for the Standhartner family, just as I had done
everywhere else: since Herr Hanslick was now considered a
friend of mine, they thought it would be a good idea to
invite him as well; but here we noticed in the course of the
reading that this fearsome critic became constantly paler
and angrier, and remarkably enough, when the reading was
over he could not be persuaded to remain for a time, but
departed at once in obvious vexation. My friends all
concluded that Hanslick had interpreted the entire libretto
as a pasquinade directed at him and our invitation to the
reading as an insult. And the critic's attitude toward me
indeed underwent a highly noticeable change from that
evening forward and turned into bitter enmity, the results
of which we were soon to see."
p. 707 [1862]: "I recognized Mme Kalergis, who had
just arrived to spend some time in Vienna, being motivated,
I fondly hoped, by the desire to do something for me as
well. As she was also a friend of Standhartner, she
got together with him at once to consider how I could be
helped out of the critical situation I was in once again as
a result of the heavy expenses of the concerts. She herself
had stated to our mutual friend that she had no funds at her
disposal and could only meet special expenditures by going
into debt. Thus, richer patrons needed to be enlisted. Chief
among these was Baroness von Stockhausen, wife of the
Hanoverian minister: as a very intimate friend of
Standhartner, she was warmly attached to my cause, and also
won over Lady Bloomfield together with her husband, the
English ambassador. There was a soirée at the
residence of the latter, as well as several evening parties
at the house of Frau von Stockhausen. One day
Standhartner delivered five hundred guilders to me
from an anonymous donor to help cover my expenses. Mme
Kalergis managed to scrape together one thousand guilders,
and these were also turned over to me by Standhartner
for my subsequent needs. In her efforts to interest the
court in me, however, she remained unsuccessful, despite her
close friendship with Countess Zamoiska."
pp. 712-13 [1863]: "After the marked success of my
first concert, I received some approaches from those circles
to which, as now became clear to me, I had been secretly but
strongly recommended by Marie Kalergis. My unseen patroness
had most circumspectly prepared my introduction to the Grand
Duchess Helene. I was instructed first of all to make use of
a recommendation from Standhartner to the Grand
Duchess's personal physician, Dr Arneth, whom he had known
in Vienna, and who in turn could introduce me to her most
trusted lady-in-waiting, Fraulein von Rhaden. I would have
been well content to make the acquaintance of this lady
alone, for in her I found a woman of wide culture, great
intelligence and noble bearing, whose increasingly earnest
interest in me was admixed with a certain anxiety, which
seemed to pertain to some worry about the Grand Duchess. It
struck me that she felt something more should be done for me
than could plausibly be expected from the Grand Duchess, her
temperament and character being what they were. I was still
not admitted directly to this exalted person, but rather
received first an invitation to an evening party in the
quarters of the chief lady-in-waiting, at which among others
the Grand Duchess would also be present."
p. 722 [1863]: "In [the] company [of my gun-dog
named Pohl, one of the most loveable and excellent animals
that ever became attached to me], I undertook long walks
every day, for which the extremely pleasant neighborhood
afforded admirable opportunities. Otherwise I remained more
or less alone for a time, as Tausig had been confined to his
bed by a severe illness for an extended period, and
Cornelius was suffering from an injured foot as a result of
having jumped down carelessly from an omnibus when visiting
Penzing. I continued my amicable association with
Standhartner and his family."
p. 732 [1863-64]: "I was able to spend New Year's
Eve with the Standhartners in a confident mood and
enjoy a poem specially written for the occasion by
Cornelius, which was equally humorous and appropriate.
"But the new year of 1864 soon assumed an increasingly
ominous aspect. I fell ill with a rapidly worsening, painful
catarrhal malady, which necessitated my making frequent
demands on Standhartner's care."
pp. 733-35 [1864]: "Now it became clear to me that
under these circumstances I could no longer maintain my
position in Vienna or my establishment in Penzing, because
there was not only no prospect of earning any money even on
a temporary basis, but also my short-term debts had mounted
to such an ominous height under the well-known system of
usury that without some extraordinary assistance my very
person was actually threatened. In this situation I turned
in utter frankness, at first only for advice, to Eduard
Liszt, the youthful uncle of my old friend Franz and a judge
at the Imperial Provincial Court. During my first stay in
Vienna he had commended himself to me as a warmly devoted
friend, who would always be willing to do me a favor. As far
as the redemption of my short-term bills was concerned, he
could see no way out other than to find a rich benefactor
who would settle with the creditors. For a time he believed
that a certain Madame Schöller, a devoted admirer of
mine and also the wife of a rich merchant, not only
possessed the means but the willingness to use them on my
behalf. Standhartner, from whom I concealed nothing,
also thought he could do something for me in this regard. By
these efforts my situation was held in a state of suspension
for a few more weeks, until it eventually turned out that
the best my friends could do for me was to provide enough
money to take what seemed the absolutely necessary step of
fleeing to Switzerland, where I would be personally
protected until such time as I could raise funds to redeem
my bills.
...
"Thoughts of death gripped me so tightly that I lost all
desire to shake them off. I set about bequeathing my books
and manuscripts, of which Cornelius was to receive a share.
Some time previously I had taken the precaution of
commending my household effects remaining in Penzing, now no
longer secure, to the protection of Standhartner. As
my friends now most urgently recommended that I get ready to
flee, I had turned to Otto Wesendonck, given the fact that
my path would take me to Switzerland, and asked him to
shelter me in his house. He rejected my request
categorically: in response I could not avoid pointing out
how shabbily he was behaving. Now it was a question of
arranging my departure so that it would appear I would be
coming back in the near future. In his great anxiety to
cover up my departure, Standhartner had me come to
dine at his house, where my servant Franz Mrazek brought me
my luggage. I bade a very distressed farewell to him, his
wife Anna [sic, should read "Minna"], as well as my
good dog Pohl. Standhartner's stepson Karl
Schönaich, who wept from grief, and Cornelius, who
by contrast was in a frivolous mood, accompanied me to the
station, where I departed on the afternoon of March 23rd, to
go first of all to Munich, where I hoped to be completely
unnoticed and have a chance to recuperate for two days from
the frightful strain of the recent past. I spent those days
in the Bayerischer Hof, from which I undertook a few walks
through the city. It was Good Friday: the weather was very
bad and seemed to reflect the mood of the entire populace,
whom I saw proceeding from one church to another in deepest
mourning. King Maximilian II, whom the Bavarians had grown
to love, had died a few days before, leaving his son to
ascend the throne at the youthful but still legitimate age
of eighteen and a half. In a display window I saw a portrait
of the young king Ludwig II, and felt that special emotion
awakened in us by the sight of beauty and youth being placed
in what will presumably be a very difficult situation. Here
I wrote a humorous epitaph for myself and then journeyed
unmolested over Lake Constance, a refugee once again and in
need of shelter, and on to Zürich, from where I
immediately proceeded to the estate of Dr Wille at
Mariafeld."
pp. 736-37 [1864]: "I got very bad news from
Vienna: to protect the household effects I had left behind
in my apartment there, Standhartner had gone so far
as to sell them to a Viennese agent, reserving the right to
repurchase. To this I responded in extreme indignation, as I
saw my landlord, to whom I had to pay rent within a few
days, compromised by this action. Through Frau Wille I
managed to obtain the money needed to meet this obligation
and forwarded it at once to Baron Rackowitz. Unfortunately I
learned that Standhartner and Eduard Liszt had done a
thorough job of things, having already paid the rent from
the proceeds of the furniture and thereby cutting off all
possibility of my returning to Vienna, which both believed
would be ruinous for me. But when I heard at the same time
from Cornelius that Tausig, who was then in Hungary and had
previously added his endorsement to one of my demand notes,
now felt himself prevented by me from going back to Vienna
as he wished,I was so deeply upset that I decided on the
spot to return there, no matter how great the danger might
be. I notified my friends there of this but decided first to
try to provide myself with enough money to be able to offer
my creditors a settlement of sorts."
|
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His
Work, His Century. Translated by J. Maxwell Brownjohn.
(New York, NY: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1982).
p. 307-313 [1861-62]: "Then he climbed
into a one-horse carriage and drove to Salzburg, reaching
Vienna on the following day.
"Reality turned out to be harsher than his recent
experiences in the Austrian capital had led him to expect.
He had taken everything and everyone too literally. An
apartment lent him by the journalist Adolph Kolatschek
proved quite unsuited to his needs, and the local theater
magnates, Intendant Count Lanskoronsky and Director Matteo
Salvi, left him completely in the dark as to when rehearsals
of Tristan could commence.
"By a fortunate last-minute coincidence, Wagner bumped
into Dr. Standhartner, who was on the point of taking
his family abroad. Standhartner offered him the use of his
Seilerstätte apartment for several weeks, complete with
the services of his pretty niece, Seraphine Mauro,
who lived in the same house and could therefore attend to
his creature comforts. Half-Italian and half-Viennese,
Seraphine had a doll-like face framed by a wealth of dark
ringlets that hung down to her ripe young bosom. Wagner
could hardly have remained indifferent to the charms that
had already enslaved Peter Cornelius, who was tortured with
jealousy. For a short while, "Seraphinchen" or
"Dolly" became the sole focus of Wagner's interest in the
opposite sex&emdash;so much so that he shunned the company
of everyone save Cornelius and Tausig.
"He soon paid a call on the tenor Alois Ander, who was
proving the main impediment to preparations for Tristan.
Ander had lost his voice after allegedly catching cold
during a visit to the crypt of Speyer Cathedral, though
knowledgeable observers claimed that his affliction of the
vocal chords was psychosomatic. Wagner was assailed by a
feeling of utter futility when Frau Dustmann, his Isolde,
declared that Ander had been "studying" the role of Tristan
for months without memorizing a single note. Like the plan
for a Tristan production at Karlsruhe, this one seemed
likely to be thwarted by vocal incompetence, and the work
began to be regarded as unperformable. Wagner was so
disheartened that he wrote to Minna on October 19 asking her
to help him 'bear the misery' of their separation instead of
treating him with suspicion. 'My earlier operas are all over
the place; my new works are presenting me with almost
insuperable difficulties. In my new works, I have pressed on
far, far ahead of my time and that which our theaters are
capable of.... No one cares about me. I must begin all over
again.'
"But then a miracle happened: At this of all times, he
determined to write Die Meistersinger. It was not in
Venice a short while later, as he picturesquely states in
My Life, but in Vienna, in the thick of his fears and
misgivings about Tristan, that he resurrected the idea of a
lighter work for the stage. This considerably devalues
subsequent speculation about the "inspirational"
significance of his stay in Venice. Wagner communicated his
Meistersinger plan to Schott in a letter dated
October 30,1861, together with a number of hard-luck stories
and requests for money. He intended, he said, to tackle the
subject right away. After his many disappointments in the
matter of Tristan, he had decided to write a popular
work designed to take the theaters of Germany by storm. It
was to be based on his vague and one-dimensional Marienbad
sketch of 1845. But could Die Meistersinger remain no more
than a cheerful travesty of the song contest, composed
around a brawl in Nürnberg? Since then, Wagner had
plumbed the depths of disappointment and humiliation. Life
had taught him a bitter lesson in self-denial, and that, for
all Sachs's mischievous pranks, was the essence of the
Meistersinger character with whom Wagner came---after all
his sad experiences and his renunciation of Mathilde---to
identify himself more and more.
"It was after this decision that the Wesendoncks invited
him to join them in Venice for a brief spell of relaxation.
He traveled by train to Trieste and by steamer to Venice,
where he disembarked on November 7 and booked into the Hotel
Danieli. He may well have been impelled by a faint hope of
reacquiring Asyl, but a single hour in Mathilde's company
sufficed to destroy the illusion that he could ever live on
her doorstep again. He found the Wesendoncks 'in very
flourishing circumstances' and dared not ask them any
favors. Mathilde was once more pregnant. The sight of her
was intolerable to him. The truth was that Isolde had never
betrayed King Mark, nor was the subject of Die
Meistersinger broached by Mathilde, who was in
possession of the Marienbad prose sketch, but by Wagner
himself, who asked for it back.
...
"...in view of his continuing frustrations in Vienna, Wagner
prepared to leave for France.
...
"At a soirée given by Frau Dustmann before his
departure, he was again accosted by Eduard Hanslick, who
strove to convince him--sobbing as he did so, according to
Wagner --that his musical judgment was untainted with
malice. Wagner soothed the critic's ruffled feelings but
squandered this final chance to win him over.
...
"Writing to Malwida von Meysenburg in January 1862, Wagner
told her that his four weeks' work in Paris had been the
happiest period in all his recent experience of life.
Countess von Pourtalès, who had lost her husband a
few weeks earlier, was the first to hear the full text read
aloud. He had become a solo entertainer to the aristocracy,
but none of them offered to help him or give him shelter.
For the first time, friends and acquaintances shrank from
his written requests for accommodation, among them Cosima
von Bülow in Berlin. He even suggested that Cornelius
move in with him and bring Seraphine Mauro as
housekeeper to them both. He, Wagner, would find nothing
amiss with this arrangement, though the 'social term' would
be hard to define. Cornelius, covetous of Seraphine's
exuberant bosom, declined his offer of a ménage
à trois with thanks.
"Unable to remain in Paris and mindful, no doubt, of
Schott's function as a source of ready cash, Wagner decided
to move to the vicinity of Mainz. Blandine Ollivier, whom he
was never to see again, took leave of him 'with a look of
infinite sorrow.'
"Early in February, he traveled to Karlsruhe and plied
Grand Duke Friedrich of Baden with renewed tales of woe for
a full hour. From Karlsruhe he went to Mainz, where he had
arranged to give full reading of his Meistersinger
libretto at Schott's home, 5 Weihergraben, on the evening of
February 5,1862. He had previously written to Vienna to tell
Peter Cornelius that he would revert to the formal 'Sie'
unless Cornelius came to Mainz posthaste.
"Cornelius was still missing when the handful of guests
assembled, one of them being Wendelin Weissheimer, but
Wagner refused to start without him and swore that he would
appear at any moment. He turned up on the stroke of seven,
even though he had been delayed by floods and lost his fur
coat while crossing the Rhine.
"Everyone who heard this reading found it unforgettable.
Wagner read so expressively that he was soon able to omit
the characters' names because his capacity for vocal
inflection made it impossible to confuse them. His audience
might have been listening to an entire company. According to
Weissheimer, the reading was 'a brilliant feat of rhetoric,'
and interrupted only by loud applause from all present. He
recalled how enchantingly Wagner delivered Sachs's 'Wie
duftet doch der Flieder' in the second act and his allusion
to King Mark in the third. He also praised the tenderness
with which Eva's lines in the quintet---'Selig, wie die
Sonne meines Gluckes lacht'---flowed from his lips. 'Ein
Kind ward hier geboren.... ' Wagner's little audience knew
that they were standing beside the cradle of an epoch-making
work.
"Cornelius left at once so as to underline the
exceptional nature of the occasion. He had not accepted
Wagner's 'proposal of marriage' orally any more than he had
by letter. For reasons that were perfectly clear to him, he
preferred to remain independent."
pp. 321- 32 [1862]: "It is difficult to guess how
the Viennese reacted when Wagner set out, late in 1862, to
build a livelihood in their city on the threadbare promises
of a theater manager, and how Tristan und Isolde
would have sounded to Viennese ears had it been performed
there. Ander persistently forgot the first act as soon as he
turner his attention to the second, and Luise Dustmann, when
asked by the conductor, Heinrich Esser, how she managed to
memorize her part, is reputed to have answered that his
guess was as good as hers. Torn between hope and despair
because the singers proved incompetent or were unavailable
for rehearsals, Wagner looked for other ways of endearing
himself to the Viennese.
"On November 23, 1862, he gave a reading of the
Meistersinger libretto at the home of Dr.
Standhartner. The latter, obviously with Wagner's
consent, had included Eduard Hanslick in the guest list.
Hanslick, who left in high dudgeon when the reading was
over, is widely reported to have done so because he
recognized himself in Beckmesser or thought the character a
deliberate travesty of himself. A more likely assumption is
that someone in the know tipped him off to the fact that
Beckmesser's name had originally been Hanslich. No one would
admit to this indiscretion, of course, and the critic was
cynically congratulated on having sat through the reading
without losing his temper. Although Hanslick disclaims any
annoyance in his memoirs, it is true that most of his
subsequent pronouncements on Wagner contained some element
of malice."
p. 324 [1862]: "True, he got down to orchestrating
the first act of Die Meistersinger and spent his
fiftieth birthday more pleasantly, in the company of his
staunch friend Standhartner, than he had its immediate
predecessors. True, the local glee clubs and choral
societies celebrated the occasion with a belated torchlight
procession and serenade on June 3, and their written
dedications referred to him for the first time as 'honored
Master,' but the master lacked a mistress and his happiness
was incomplete."
|
Robert W. Gutman, Richard Wagner: The Man, His Mind,
and His Music. (New York, NY: Harcourt, Brace &
World, Inc., 1968).
pp. 204-205 [1861]: "In Weimar he
again enjoyed outwardly friendly relations with Liszt, who
had recently avoided him in Paris on account of the Blandine
affair and also because he feared being again laid under
contribution. Though Liszt's trunks were already packed for
his removal from Weimar, he had tarried for the concerts.
The Princess' absence from Haus Altenburg - she was in Rome
- helped the friends regain something of the old
conviviality . Blandine and Ollivier were also with Liszt,
and, when the festival carne to an end, Wagner
enthusiastically accompanied his mistress and her husband to
Nuremberg, Munich, and then Reichenhall , where Cosima was
taking the saline water cure, Ollivier being obliged to
submit all the while to Blandine's and Wagner's joking in
German over his head. During this brief August visit to
Reichenhall , Wagner first sensed that a liaison with the
younger sister was also possible. Fascinated by Cosima's
wild disposition, he would soon answer her questioning look.
"During July he had finally disposed of his Paris
household and of Minna, who was shipped off to Bad Soden in
the Taunus with his vague assurances of someday establishing
another nest with her. Excusing himself for two Parisian
years which weighed on his conscience like a nightmare, he
plaintively declared to her that all had been meant for the
best. Later in the month he had visited her on his way to
Weimar. Soon thereafter she left for Saxony.
"Money problems gave him no rest. Minna was again set up
independently, and his own needs were far from small. No new
income would be forthcoming until Tristan was performed and
started on the round of German theaters. News from Vienna's
great Kärntnertor Opera House was not encouraging. The
tenor, Ander, so glorious a Lohengrin, had become terrified
of Tristan's part and was succumbing to a series of
strategic indispositions. By mid-August Wagner was in Vienna
and took up residence in the house of Dr.
Standhartner, a Wagner enthusiast and physician to
Empress Elizabeth. Tausig formed part of Wagner's Viennese
circle, as did Peter Cornelius, to whom had been entrusted
the copying of those alterations and transpositions in the
part of Tristan indispensable to Ander's recuperation.
"Wagner worked miracles with the Vienna orchestra and all
the members of his cast except Ander, whose continuing
protective hoarseness delayed the premiere repeatedly.
Though publicly the tenor attributed his difficulties to a
cold, caught while visiting the Kaisers' tombs in the crypt
of Speyer Cathedral, nonetheless, little by little, rumor
spread that Tristan challenged performance. In Leipzig,
Breitkopf and Hartel became uneasy over their heavy
investment in engraving what Wagner had assured them to be a
practical score. In the face of these difficulties Wagner
found solace in the charms of his absent host's niece and
housekeeper, Seraphine Mauro, known to her admirers,
who included Cornelius, as "Doll."
"Where was Wagner to get money? During visits to Paris,
acquaintances would find excuses not to receive him, having
come to see his needs in terms of a bottomless pit. In
Berlin even the Bülows were to be terrified by the
possibility of his arrival at their home. After the
dismantling of his household and Minna's departure, friends
at the Prussian Embassy in Paris had taken pity, and for a
while he had lived at the residence of the Ambassador, Count
Pourtalès. For the Countess, the daughter of Moritz
August von Bethmann-Hollweg, he wrote an Albumblatt for
piano that celebrated the black swans in the Embassy's pool
(July). Only a month before, he had written such a
thanksoffering for Princess Metternich. But it was Countess
Portalès who knew how to express her concern in hard
cash.
"In May a surprise visit to the Wesendonks in Zurich had
netted Wagner little, and, when during his Vienna sojourn
they invited him to join them on a Venetian holiday in
November, he saw the opportunity of striking again. (Fearful
of mentioning Mathilde's name to Minna, he wrote her that
Dr. Standhartner, summoned to Venice for consultation
by Empress Elizabeth, had insisted on his companionship
during the journey!) The Tristan project, which he described
as dangling on the lax vocal cords of a fatigued tenor, was
moribund, and his situation desperate; plans to import
Schnorr or Tichatschek to Vienna had fallen through. But
Otto and Mathilde, at the end of their largesse, were deaf
to hints. Poor Bülow, who could barely keep his
household together, was soon bothered for a loan."
pp. 218-219 [1862]: "Though harsh, his estimate of
Wagner is closer to modern criticism than is the
undiscriminating adulation of the Wagnerites. As a partisan
of the Leipzig school, Hanslick was deaf to many beauties in
Wagner's scores, and in respect to Wagner, Berlioz, and
Liszt (and later Bruckner and Richard Strauss) was unable to
surmount an innate conservatism and a prejudice against
'literary' music. Nonetheless, he could never be accused of
intellectual dishonesty. One may disagree with his
complaints about Wagner's unvocal writing, boring
declamation, orchestral din, clumsiness, monotony,
exaggeration of expression, and perpetual modulation; yet,
considering the hysterical excesses of the Wagnerites, he
generally kept his temper, his logically presented opinions
being based not on emotion but on a thorough study of the
score in question. He had had four years of theory,
composition, and piano with Tomaschek and was thoroughly
professional at the keyboard.
"Though he fought Wagner vigorously, he never denied him;
if he found little to praise in this music, he nonetheless
could extol the beauty of a strong, sincere effort; if he
detested Wagner the man, he found him invulnerable in
respect to artistic morality. If Hanslick was at times
wrong, he was not unrighteous.
"Wagner's attitude toward Hanslick was less dichotomous
and generous; after the Lohengrin review he
thoroughly loathed him.
"The Vienna Opera was well aware of Hanslick's writings
on Wagner. Its optimism in planning a production of
Tristan was an echo of clinking coin at the box
office on Wagner nights. The Viennese public read and
respected Hanslick but usually formed its own judgments.
Yet, in the case of the novel and uncompromising Tristan,
the management, and especially the cast, felt from the
beginning that a Wagner-Hanslick rapprochement would be
advantageous. Efforts had been made in this direction by
Ander and Frau Dustmann. Even Laube was besought to use his
influence. But at arranged 'chance' encounters Wagner was
uncivil. Only when Hanslick gallantly remarked to him upon
the relationship between misjudgments and personal
limitations and declared himself willing to learn, did
Wagner seem to respond. But to this call of the critic for
social intercourse and friendship he was to give strange
answer when he returned to Vienna from the Rhineland.
Ironically, it was probably because of their supposed
reconciliation that the Kärntnertor Opera House had
summoned Wagner back.
"Hanslick was subsequently invited to the home of Dr.
Standhartner to hear Wagner recite the Meistersinger
poem (November 23, 1862). At this time the pedantic, narrow
minded character now known to the world as Beckmesser
appeared in Wagner's manuscript under the name of Hanslich.
Wagner had maliciously trapped the critic in a barbarously
contrived situation. Pale and upset, Hanslick fled the
reading as soon as he could, Wagner doubtlessly finding the
whole affair vastly amusing. As Hans Sachs he had acted out
the last act of Meistersinger and sent the cantankerous
Marker fleeing the scene of contest. He wanted no mercies
from the critics. Success would come from the Folk, from
those with no knowledge of the musty Tabulatur."
p. 233 [1863]: "Wagner had visited Vienna for a
few days in May and June to gather' up his servants (the
Mrazeks) and the dog, to pay the most urgent debts, and to
repurchase what could be located of his auctioned
possessions. In a fury against friends who had faithfully
acted to protect what they could of his property from the
Viennese deluge he himself had let loose, he blamed them for
his losses and wrote Mathilde Maier of their 'unbelievable
stupidity.' Cornelius especially aroused his ire by refusing
an invitation to settle permanently with him in Bavaria. In
his strange way he loved Peter. During the dark hours at
Mariafeld he had gloomily written to Dr. Standhartner
in Vienna, 'One thing! Send Peter to me soon! . . . He
must share all sorrow with me.... Only death must he leave
to me alone; he need only be close by!' Now he found it
incomprehensible that Peter preferred work on his opera The
Cid to the post of jester at the new Wagnerian court. Wagner
was becoming more and more intractable. The opposing side of
a problem had never been within his vision; now even the
middle ground was blurring. One was either for or against
him, and to be for him implied a complete sacrifice of
personal desires. Cornelius reflected that he was treating
old friends 'like bootblacks.' In a mood of deep resentment
Wagner had stormed Wotan like from Vienna to take up
residence at Villa Pellet.
"He was lonely; the house was desolate, his bed unshared,
The rarefied air enveloping his interviews with the King
left him gasping."
|
Ronald Taylor, Richard Wagner; His Life, Art and
Thought. (New York, NY: Taplinger Publishing Company,
1979).
p. 150 [1862]: "Sitting in a
café on the Stephansplatz the next afternoon, he
suddenly saw a man enter whom he had met earlier in the
year, when he had been in Vienna to look for singers for
Tristan. The man was, personal physician to the Empress
Elizabeth and an enthusiastic follower of Wagner's music. He
insisted that Wagner should come and stay with him while his
family was away, and Wagner made Standhartner's house
his own for over a month, visiting the aristocracy, making
new acquaintances, like that of the dramatist Friedrich
Hebbel, discussing the world with his old friend Heinrich
Laube again, now director of the Vienna Burgtheater, and
trying to get Tristan finally performed.
"But nothing want right. Suitable singers, above all a
tenor for the title role, were either unavailable, like
Tichatschek and Schnorr von Carolsfeld, or diplomatically
'indisposed'; the music was again adjudged unplayable, and
the whole opera unperformable. 'It became clear to me,' he
said in Mein Leben, 'that my position was utterly
desolate. The whole world seemed to have given up interest
in me.' The same self-pitying tone fills a long letter to
Minna at the time: 'My new works are far, far in advance of
the time and far beyond the capabilities of our theatres ...
Nobody asks for me. I shall have to start again from the
very beginning.'
"When the Standhartner family returned from
vacation, Wagner moved into the Kaiserin Elizabeth Hotel in
the Weihburggasse, which quickly proved far too expensive.
At the invitation of the Wesendonks he spent a week with
them in Venice, then returned to Vienna. But this time with
a new purpose in mind - to carry Die Meistersinger
through to the end. In November he wrote a fresh
scenario - in December, back in Paris at the invitation of
the Metternichs, he started the poem, and the complete
libretto was ready by the end of the following January."
p. 157 [1862-63]: "But less than five months later
this, together with the remains of sundry fees and loans,
had disappeared, most of it swallowed up by the expenses of
a large, handsome apartment in a villa at Penzing, some five
minutes ride from the beautiful palace of Schönbrunn,
just outside Vienna. Biebrich had become petty and
provincial, no place from which to launch an offensive
against the theatrical establishment of Europe. The choice
of Vienna was motivated by two thoughts: one was the
lingering hope of seeing Tristan performed there; the other,
as he put it in Mein Leben, was because 'with no other
German city had I developed so close an artistic
relationship'. Here, in the company of Cornelius, Tausig,
Standhartner and others, and waited upon by a servant
couple who remained faithful to him for a number of years,
he celebrated his fiftieth birthday in grand style. 'Wagner
is just like a child when he has money in his pocket,' said
the Viennese conductor Heinrich Esser, who was to have
directed the first performance of Tristan, 'and it does not
seem to enter his head that it will not last for ever. And
then he claims that he cannot work at all unless his rooms
are luxurious and unless he has exclusive use of a large
garden - in a word, unless he can live like a lord.'"
p. 208 [1864]: "Wagner liked neither Brahms the
man nor Brahms the composer (though
many of Brahms' greatest works were yet to come - the
four symphonies, the violin concerto, the B-flat major piano
concerto, the clarinet quintet - they would hardly have
changed Wagner's opinion). Together with Tausig, Peter
Cornelius and Weissheimer, Brahms had corrected the
orchestral parts for Wagner's concerts in Vienna in 1862-3,
but this counted for little. The two men had met only once,
in February 1864, when Dr Standhartner brought Brahms
to Wagner's house in Penzing. Musically there was hardly a
single point of contact between them. Brahms had gone to Das
Rheingold and Die Walküre in Munich in 1870 but later
was known to dissuade his pupils from concerning themselves
with Wagner's music. In 1875 there was to be an unpleasant
contretemps between them when Brahms, who, back in the
1860s, had received as a present from Tausig the manuscript
of Wagner's new Venusberg scene for the Paris
Tannhäuser of 1861, refused to return it for Wagner to
publish. Eventually he did, but only in return for a copy of
the de luxe edition of Das Rheingold. In her diary Cosima
makes no effort to disguise her and Wagner's scorn for the
'crude, boorish' man and his 'mediocre' music."
p. 215 [1864]: "The press was equally consistent
in its hostility, although faced with the growing public
acceptance of Wagner's music, less sure of itself than a few
years earlier. Much of his free time Wagner spent in the
company of old friends, like Semper and Dr. Standhartner,
and of more recent acquaintances, among them the painter
Hans Makart."
p. 232 [1881]: "His health weakened, his energy
diminished - the doctors failed to ascribe his frequent
chest pains to a heart condition - Wagner now worked more
slowly. Cosima, who begins almost every entry in her diary
with a sentence on how her husband had slept, still records
a large number of nights disturbed by pains and discomforts
of one kind or another, or by strange and often unpleasant
dreams. But his will lost none of its power, and he still
dominated the social evenings at Wahnfried. Old friends came
- Carl Brandt, who was to control the stage machinery for
Parsifal but who died before seeing his work accomplished;
the Munich painter Franz von Lenbach, who made a number of
famous portraits of Wagner and his circle: Karl Ritter, from
his Dresden days; Dr Standhartner from Vienna; the Countess
Marie von Schleinitz and her husband; Liszt, of course, who
stayed at the house for a number of days each time, and
Malwida von Meysenbug."
p. 247 [1883]: "The hearse, drawn by four horses,
moved off on its mile-long journey down into the centre of
the town, up past the old Margraves' Opera House and on to
the Villa Wahnfried. By the side of the carriage walked the
twelve men who were to bear the body to its last
resting-place - Feustel, Muncker. Adolf Gross. Wolzogen,
Joukovsky, Anton Seidl, August Wilhelmj, leader of the
Bayreuth orchestra, Heinrich Porges, Hermann Levi, Hans
Richter. Dr Josef Standhartner from Vienna, and the
singer Albert Niemann (the Berlin Tristan of 1876 and the
first Siegmund at Bayreuth). Crowds lined the
route&emdash;men, women, even children."
|
Hans Gal, Richard Wagner. Translated by
Hans-Hubert Schönzeler. (New York, NY: Stein and Day,
1976).
pp. 137-138 [1864]: "Thanks to the
memoirs of Wendelin Weissheimer, who was constantly in
Wagner's company during the Vienna concerts in the winter of
I861/62, we know of another pretty and typically Wagnerian
episode:
"Wagner had been staying at his hotel for two months. He
was still hoping for the payment which was to be made to him
after the first performance of Tristan, but it did
not arrive---the proprietor became worried and sent him one
bill after the other....When one evening, together with
Tausig, I went to visit him, he was full of woe and bemoaned
his miserable position. Full of sympathy we listened to him
and sat on the sofa in deep depression, while he was pacing
up and down in nervous haste. Suddenly he stopped dead and
said: 'Ah, now I know what is missing and what I need.' He
ran to the door and rang the bell loudly. The waiter finally
appeared, slowly and with hesitation, for these people soon
know which way the wind is blowing, and he was no less
amazed than we were when Wagner ordered: 'Will you bring us
immediately two bottles of champagne on ice!' 'For God's
sake, in this situation!' we cried out when the waiter had
left again. But he gave us a fervent lecture on the absolute
necessity of champagne especially in desperate
situations---only champagne could help one to overcome such
embarrassments....If you associated with Wagner you went
from surprise to surprise. When I entered his room next
morning he showed me 1000 guilders which the Empress had
sent him, presumably at the instigation of Dr
Standhartner [Wagner's friend and personal physician to
Empress Elizabeth].
"Talking of champagne, let us just mention by the way
that when Wagner's Penzing home was compulsorily auctioned
off, the contents included one hundred bottles of that
precious liquid. There is no record, however, of whether
Wagner had ever paid for them."
|
Ernest Newman, Wagner As Man & Artist. (New
York, NY: Tudor Publishing Co., 1937).
pp. 22-23 [1862]: "'...solely to his
limitations; and that to widen the boundaries of his
knowledge he desired nothing more ardently than to learn
from me. These explanations were made with such an explosion
of feeling that I could do nothing but try to soothe his
grief, and promise him my unreserved sympathy with his work
in future. Shortly after my departure from Vienna I heard
that Hanslick had praised me and my amiability in unmeasured
terms.'
"Whether Wagner's account of the interview is strictly
accurate or not, we have no means of knowing; but the story,
even as he tells it, indicates that Hanslick was not at this
time a hopelessly prejudiced or evil-natured antagonist. In
November I862 they met again at the house of Dr.
Standhartner in Vienna. Wagner read the
Meistersinger poem to the company.
"As Dr. Hanslick was now supposed to be reconciled with
me, they thought they had done the right thing in inviting
him also. We noticed that as the reading went on the
dangerous critic became paler and more and more out of
humour; and it was noticed that at the end he could not be
persuaded to stay, but took his leave at once with an
unmistakable air of irritation. My friends all agreed that
Hanslick regarded the whole poem as a pasquinade against
himself, and the invitation to listen to it as an outrage.
And truly from that evening the critic's attitude towards me
underwent a striking change; it ended in an intensified
enmity, of the consequences of which we were soon made
aware."
"The touching innocence of it, the air of perfect
candour, of conscious rectitude, of surprise that men should
be found so base as Hanslick proved himself to be! Would it
be believed from this ingenuous record that Wagner had given
Hanslick the most unmistakable cause of offense? It may have
occurred to more than one reader to ask how Hanslick managed
to recognise a caricature of himself in Beckmesser. It is
hardly likely that he could have done so from the poem
alone. We may be tolerably sure he had something more to go
upon.
"We possess three prose sketches of the Meistersinger
libretto. The first was made in 1845, the second and
third&emdash; there is hardly any difference between the
two&emdash;in the winter of 1861. The actual libretto was
written in Paris in November 1861 and January 1862. In the
second sketch the Marker is given the name of "Hanslich." In
the third he becomes "Veit Hanslich." In these two later
sketches the Marker is drawn with a perceptibly harsher
hand. That the conferring of this name on the Marker was
something more than a passing joke is shown by its appearing
in both sketches, and not merely in the list of dramatis
personae, but written out in full throughout. These two
sketches were made, as we have seen, after the first meeting
of Wagner and Hanslick in Vienna in 1861. With an author so
fond of reading his own works to his friends as Wagner was,
it is incredible that news of Hanslick being satirised as
the pedantic Marker in the forthcoming opera should not have
spread through musical Vienna, and have reached the critic's
ears. His feeling, therefore, at the party in November 1862,
that the shaft was aimed at himself may safely be put down
not so much to his own intuition as to either a
pre-suspicion or a knowledge of the truth. He would be quite
justified, then, in regarding the invitation to be present
at the reading as an insult. But even if we allow no weight
at all to this theory, in spite of its inherent probability,
what are we to think of Wagner's later conduct? He tells us
more than once of Hanslick's enmity towards him; he makes no
mention of himself having treated Hanslick, in the
Meistersinger sketches, in a way that the critic and
his friends could only regard as insulting. Hanslick was of
course hopelessly wrong about Wagner the musician; but after
Wagner's brusque treatment of him whenever he met him, and
after the attempt to ridicule him in the
Meistersinger, who will say that Hanslick was under
any obligation to be fond of Wagner the man? Yet it is only
Wagner's side of the case, as usual, that is given us in
Mein Leben.
"The autobiography, then, has to be used with caution:
not that Wagner, I suppose, often consciously perverted the
truth, but that it was impossible for him to believe he was
ever in the wrong in his judgments of other people...."
pp. 114-115 [1861]: "The clear-sighted and careful
Minna [Wagner] was appalled at the prospect of the ruin that
was threatening them once more: and Wagner made the mistake
of not confiding in her. She felt her self shut out from his
inner life. Apparently he was also giving her fresh cause
for jealousy, the lady this time, it is said, being Liszt's
eldest daughter Blandine, the wife of the Paris lawyer
Ollivier.
"After the disastrous Tannhäuser performances in
March I861, Wagner fluctuated for a while between Paris,
Karlsruhe and Vienna, at length settling down on the I4th
August in the last named city, where it was proposed to
produce Tristan. Minna had gone to Soden for a cure on the
10th July: from there she went on to Dresden once more. In
Vienna Wagner had the loan of Dr. Standhartner's house for
some weeks during the physician's absence. His wants were
attended to by a "pretty niece" of Standhartner's.
This pretty niece was one Seraphine Mauro. According to
Kapp['s book Richard Wagner und die Frauen], 'Wagner was not
insensible to so much I beauty in his daily surroundings,
and his 'dear little doll' [Puppe], as he always called
Seraphine, did not let him sigh in vain....The
suffering in this affair of Wagner's fell upon his friend
Peter Cornelius, who....had lost his heart to the beautiful
Seraphine some time before.'
"Standhartner having returned to Vienna at the end of
September, Wagner had to leave his comfortable quarters, and
as there seemed no prospect of an early performance of
Tristan, and life at a hotel was expensive, he accepted an
invitation from the Wesendoncks to meet them in Venice. He
remained there only four days---'four miserable days' he
calls them. How unbridgeable was the gulf made between him
and Minna by the memory of the Mathilde affair of three
years before may be estimated from his letters to his wife
of 19th October and I3th November 1861. The first is
sensible and tender; he is full of pity for the poor
suffering woman, and will gladly do anything in his power to
alleviate her misery,--- anything, that is, but give up the
Wesendonck acquaintance. He still has plans for a reunion,
and a quiet old age to be spent together. But as a
preliminary to any rapprochement he insists, as he had
always done, on her consenting never again to mention the
name of Mathilde, for whom, he declares, his passion has
from beginning to end been absolutely pure. Of all the
tragedies of Wagner's life this surely is the greatest, that
his one noble love, the one that was so necessary to him as
an artist, to which we owe Tristan and many of the finest
moods of the Meistersinger and Parsifal, should have been
the one to embitter his existence and his wife's beyond all
hope of remedy while his less worthy attachments were either
unknown to Minna or counted for little with her. With Wagner
obstinately resolved not to give up the Wesendonck
acquaintance, and Minna---blind to the tree nature of the
attachment, and seeing it, in all probability, merely as
another Laussot affair---as obstinately bent on making the
cessation of this acquaintance a condition of a full
reconciliation with her husband, it was impossible that the
breach between the two tortured and self-torturing souls
should ever be healed. That Wagner dreaded giving Minna any
cause to be reminded of Mathilde's name is evident from the
sophisticated version he gives her of his Venice excursion,
in his letter of I3th November 1861: we can only regard as a
piece of well-meant fiction his story that Dr.
Standhartner, having been summoned in haste, as deputy
physician in ordinary, to attend the Empress of Austria in
Venice, had pressingly insisted upon Wagner accompanying him
for his health's sake. 'I returned early this morning. I
hope it has done me good; at least I had no talking to do
for several days, but only to go sight-seeing, which really
benefitted me.' Not a word, it will be observed, as to
having gone to Venice at the request of the Wesendoncks, or
even as to their being in Venice at that time."
pp. 142-144 [1862]: "he must settle in some cosy
nest if he is to go on with his work. But he needs a
sympathetic friend near him. 'Heavens I how glad I should be
to have the poor "Doll" (Puppe) with me as well! In these
matters my moral sense is incurably naive. I would see
nothing at all in it if the maiden were also to come to me,
and were to be to me just what, with her pretty little
nature, she can be. But how to find the "terminus socialis"
for this? Ach Himmel! It amuses me and it grieves me!'
However, if Seraphine could not come, Cornelius was
to come alone; and they two were henceforth to be
inseparable.
"When Wagner is settled at Sternberg under the protection
of King Ludwig [II of Bavaria], Cornelius is again to come
live with him and be his love. They are to live in the same
house,&emdash;Cornelius can bring his piano, and there is a
box of cigars awaiting him---yet each is to maintain his own
independence.---'Exactly two years ago I ardently expected
you in Biebrich: for a long time I had no news of you, and
then I suddenly learned from a third person that you had let
Tausig take you off to Geneva. You have never fully known
how deeply this put me out of humour. Nothing of that sort
must happen this time; but we must be open with each other,
like men.' He knew that Cornelius was working at his opera
the Cid, and doubted whether he could do this as well in
Wagner's proximity as apart from him. Wagner will have it
that Cornelius can work at the Cid and he at his
Meistersinger in their common home; he is willing and
anxious, indeed, to advise his friend about his opera.
'Either you accept my invitation immediately,' he concludes,
'and settle yourself for your whole life in the same house
with me, or---you disdain me, and expressly abjure all
desire to unite yourself with me. In the latter case I
abjure you also root and branch (ganz und vollständig),
and never admit you again in any way into my life....From
this you can guess one thing,--- how sorely I need peace.
And this makes it necessary for me to know definitely where
I stand: my present connection with you tortures me
horribly. It must either become complete, or be utterly
severed!'
"Cornelius hesitated, as well he might, to give himself
up body and soul to this devouring flame of a man; he knew
Wagner, and knew what sacrifices a friendship of his kind
meant for the friend. Wagner was very angry with him for not
accepting the invitation at once. He came to Vienna to
liquidate his debts with the 135,000 gulden placed at his
disposal for that purpose by the King, and generally to put
his affairs in order. Asked by Seraphine Mauro the object of
his visit to the city, he curtly replied, "To quarrel with
my friends." Heinrich Porges and his brother had called upon
Wagner, but Cornelius did not go. 'There were such scenes,'
he writes to his brother Carl on 15th June, 'and tears of
rage and despair over my conduct: no answer to his
letter&emdash;my Cid had "miscarried,"---he could put
everything in order, go through it all cordially and calmly
with me&emdash;at Sternberg, etc., etc., pianoforte
ready&emdash;a box full of cigars&emdash;Peter as man and
artist, etc., etc.' He saw Standhartner, who advised him, in
case he did not mean to accept Wagner's invitation, not to
go near him just then, as it would probably lead to a
complete rupture. So Cornelius writes to Wagner between one
and three in the morning, telling him that he could not
settle in Munich now with anyone but his brother, but that
when he has finished the Cid he will be willing to live
there in merry companionship with Carl and Wagner. No answer
was vouchsafed to this letter. 'Standhartner speaks
to him again in my interest. Heinrich Porges writes
him---"Reconciliation with Peter: otherwise&emdash;Egoist!"
Thereupon he writes at once to Porges: "do not visit me
to-day," and to Standhartner: "do not come till to-morrow,"
etc., etc., etc., and when they come next day he is gone! So
that one can truly say that he has treated his best friends
in Vienna like so many shoe-blacks.... He came in May 1861.
This is the upshot of these three years!'
"Cornelius writes at the same time to Reinhold Kohler on
the 24th: 'A row with Wagner....I was simply to be a
Kurvenal. Wagner does not understand that though I have many
qualifications for that,---even to a dog-like fidelity,---I
have unfortunately just a little too much independence of
character and talent to be his cipher behind his unit.' And
on the same day to his sister Susanne: 'Unfortunately we
have separated, perhaps for ever. He wrote me: Come to
Sternberg---come for ever&emdash;or I will have absolutely
nothing more to do with you.&emdash;I could not consent to
that,&emdash;for the Cid has haunted me all the time since
February, and is now coming to life,---and if I were with
Wagner I should not write a note....I should be no more than
a piece of spiritual furniture for him, as it were, without
influence on his deeper life. I send you his letter. Tell me
if any man ought to put such an "Or" to a friend: either
everything, skin and hair,&emdash;or nothing at all. I have
never forced myself on Wagner. I rejoiced sincerely in his
friendship, and was truly devoted to him in word and deed.
But to share his life,&emdash;that entices me not.'
"Wagner apparently got over his petulance, and still had
hopes of inducing Cornelius to come to Munich, where he
could have a post either at the Conservatoire or under the
King. 'But if he is really well disposed towards me,'
Cornelius writes to his brother on 4th September 1864, 'let
him interest himself actively in the Cid. Everything depends
on that now. But salvation will not come to me that way;
Wagner never for a moment thinks seriously of anyone but
himself.'
"That is the conclusion to which the study of Wagner's
life and letters so often lead us."
p. 145 [1862]: "He[Wagner] writes to Cornelius
from Paris at the end of January 1862: 'Listen! On Wednesday
evening, the 5th February , I am to read the Meistersinger
at Schott's house in Mainz. You have no idea what it is,
what it means to me, and what it will be to my friends! You
must be there that evening! Get Standhartner at once
to give you, on my account, the necessary money for the
journey [from Vienna]. In Mainz I will reimburse you, and
whatever may be necessary for the return journey." [See the
letter in Cornelius' Ausgewählte Briefe, I.
643.]
|
Richard to Minna Wagner: Letters to His First Wife. 2
Vol. Translated, Prefaced, Etc. by William Ashton Ellis.
(New York, NY: Vienna House, 1972).
August 16, 1861 [Vienna]: "I had
another shock with my lodgings. Good Kolatschek lives in a
frightfully distant suburb so that I promptly recognised I
couldn't stay there as my cab-fares alone would have cost
more than my lodgings. Moreover it was very uninviting
otherwise, and I was on the point of hunting for fresh
lodgings when Dr. Standhartner, my highly
enthusiastic Viennese friend (a kind of Dr. Schuster),
luckily intervened, offering to house me in his roomy abode
for as long as his family is away---til about the middle of
September. This lies in the heart of the city and I'm
getting to feel quite at ease in it; the only thing I have
to procure for myself is dinner. At least so far as lodging
is concerned, then, I can quietly wait now and see if anyone
else will invite me thereafter, or if I must look out for a
furnished logis for myself, which indeed is what would suit
me least. For-- now comes the other melancholy item in my
communications, which will make it comprehensible to you
that I'm not exactly in a cheerful mood!---"
August 26, 1861 [Vienna]: "I cannot conceal that I
am in a very melancholy humour through it all, and my kind
host, Dr. Standthartner, has a pretty bad time with
me. Nevertheless I am glad I can remain in his house a few
weeks longer; by then the Ander question must have come to
its full resolution, and once the thing has a definite good
purpose, I shall find more heart to hire myself a room in
case of need. Even as it is, my stay here costs an awful lot
of money...."
September 4, 1861 [Vienna]: "I am delighted to see
you are in humour enough to adorn your letters to me with
such admonitions. For the rest, I am really much troubled by
my stay in Vienna turning out far more expensive at present
than I had presumed; and what is chiefly to blame for this,
is the highly inconvenient circumstance that my singers are
scattered all over the country, causing me a wicked outlay
on conveyances etc. Neither have I any regular meals
[provided me], and for the moment at least I'm saving
nothing but the cost of lodgings: if I could accept
invitations to the country, it would be another matter.
Still, I hope for some relief with the approach of autumn,
especially when everybody is in town again.&emdash;My host,
Dr. Standthartner, has gone to join his family at
Salzburg; I'm quite alone in his abode now. Tausig and
Cornelius haven't come back to Vienna yet, so I'm happily
protected for the present from the injurious influence of
too youthful company on my views of life and general morals;
tho' I hope to expose my weak mind as little as possible to
such contamination even later.---"
September 26, 1861 [Vienna]: "I have moved out,
had to pack and unpack everything once more, and got
terribly cross with it this time! My host's family [the
Standhartners] will return in a day or two; I hunted
for a furnished lodging---lost hours and days over
it---found nothing in needful proximity to the theatre, and
finally struck up friendship with the landlord of the hotel
named above [i.e., the Kaiserin Elizabeth on Weihburggasse],
who is an art-enthusiast, constantly harbours famous
musicians, and has let me have a big parlour with bedroom on
the third floor, looking over the court, for the same terms
as a private furnished lodging (all of which are dear
enough!). So I'll here await the consummation of my Vienna
fortunes.
"Those---God be praised---are gradually assuming a rather
propitious aspect. Ander has come back to town, and will
reappear in a week. He boasts that his voice has grown
better and clearer than ever; whilst he is as full of zeal
for Tristan as before.
"....So---my heart is considerably lightened on that
score at any rate, and the only thing I have to bewail is
the long delay and the loss of a hospitable house [the
Standhartners'] that eased my so protracted sojourn
in Vienna. I seem doomed to have everything fall out
incredibly hard now; God knows when Luck will smile on me a
little once again!"
November 13, 1861 [Vienna]: "Last Wednesday [6th]
any friend Dr. Standhartner (as deputy physician in
ordinary) was summoned in haste by the Empress to a
consultation in Venice; as doctor and friend he insisted on
my accompanying him, since I needed a change, some
distraction, if I meant to hold out here. I returned this
morning, and shall hope it has benefitted me: at least I had
no talking to do for a few days running, but only sights to
see, which really did me good."
August 21, 1862 [Vienna]: "You are quite right to
be returning by Vienna. Call on the Laubes; they live in the
'Stoss im Himmel' block (sounds droll enough!). The
Standhartners unfortunately are not at home."
November 12, 1862 [Biebrich]: "I hope to start [my
trip] tomorrow, though; so expect my next letter from
Vienna. If you have anything of moment to write me
meanwhile, please address c/o Dr. J. Standhartner,
Stadt 806. Wien.---"
December 27, 1862 [Vienna]: "Among all my cares
and troubles, the care for you has still remained the most
consuming. Nothing having turned up from anywhere, at last I
begged Standhartner to advance me the needful on my
Tristan honorarium. He has had my wish complied with through
his banker,---so now take heart, good Minna!"
|
Karl Geiringer, Brahms: His Life and Work.
Translated by H. B. Weiner & Bernard Miall. (London, UK:
George Allen & Unwin, 1942).
p. 95 [1864]: " As to his male
acquaintances, he was on terms of increasing friendship with
the well known critic Eduard Hanslick, who even sought the
acquaintance of Brahms's family in Hamburg, sending his
photo to the delighted Elise. He continued to see much of
Tausig and Cornelius. Both were friends of Richard Wagner,
who was then living in Vienna, and were anxious to arrange a
meeting between Brahms and the composer who was responsible
for the resuscitation of the music-drama. The introduction
was at last effected through the medium of a third mutual
acquaintance, Dr. Standhartner, who took Brahms to
see Wagner on February 6, 1864. The evening was a gratifying
success: apart from classical music, Brahms played his
Handel Variations, and Wagner could not but be impressed by
this magnificent work. He expressed his admiration in the
following words:
'One sees what can still be done with the old
forms
in the hands of one who knows how to deal with them.'
"Never again were the two greatest German composers of
their time to meet face to face. It would therefore seem
appropriate to give some account of their relations here. In
their art Brahms and Wagner had no points of contact
whatever ( as will be more fully explained in another
chapter). Precisely because of their dissimilarity, one
might have thought that each could have respected the
other's achievements. Actually, however, their relations
---mainly owing to the intervention of third persons---
became less friendly. The attack delivered upon the 'music
of the future' by Brahms in 1860 can hardly be held
responsible for this. In that year Brahms, together with
Joachim, Grimm, and Scholz, drew up a manifesto in which
they and a number of sympathizers sought to protest against
the influence of the 'new German school'. Owing to an
indiscretion this manifesto, which was really aimed at Liszt
rather than Wagner, was published over the names of the four
principals only, and in this form excited mirth rather than
anger in the camp of their opponents."
|
The Diary of Richard Wagner 1865-1882: The Brown
Book. Presented and annotated by Joachim Bergfeld.
Translated by George Bird. (London, UK: Cambridge University
Press, 1980).
October 24, 1865 [Vienna]: "Yesterday
evening Standhartner was with me: we've put a lot in
order. Today it's off with him to the dentist - it's that
monster who will now decide my existence -- that is to say,
in Vienna."
October 26, 1865 [Vienna]: "Yesterday, as a result
of a very poor night I was in a bad way: a tooth operation
was undertaken; [reading] Balzac brought balm--in the
evening an hour at the Standhartners'"
|
Cosima Wagner's Diaries. Vol. I: 1869-1877. Edited
and annotated by Martin Gregor-Dellin and Dietrich Mack.
Translated and with an Introduction by Geoffrey Skelton.
(New York, NY: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1978).
Sunday, May 22, 1870: "Many letters
and telegrams (King [Ludwig II of Bavaria], Richter,
Standhartner, etc.)."
Monday, August 21, 1871: "Letter from Dr.
Standhartner (business affairs)."
Friday, November 3, 1871: "R. Writes letters to
Dr. Standhartner, Herr Feustel in Bayreuth; business
affairs, in short."
Tuesday, January 2, 1872: "(He [Wagner] writes to
Dr. Standhartner and Kafka.)"
Monday, March 11, 1872: "R. Sends the score of
Tannhäuser to Dr. Standhartner, to have the
first scene copied."
Wednesday, April 24, 1872: "Letters from
Standhartners, Levi...."
Friday, May 10, 1872: "Dr. Standhartner
reports that people wish to form a Wagner Society in Prague
and are inquiring through a member whether Wagner would
agree to Czechs and Bohemians being represented in it in
equal numbers. Wagnerian art is the only kind which unites
hostile elements."
Tuesday, May 21, 1872: "Morning rehearsal, many
Bayreuth people in my box, but friends too, among them
Dr. Standhartner, who has come all the way from
Vienna."
Wednesday, May 22, 1872: "Dinner at the Fantaisie
with Standhartner, who, like everybody else, praised
the behavior of the children, particularly of Fidi, at the
ceremony."
Friday, October 25, 1872: "Sent my father [the
composer Franz Liszt] the telegram from Dr.
Standhartner describing Princess Hohenlohe's 18,000
florins as 'a ridiculous exaggeration--one zero too many,'
to my great relief."
Wednesday, November 6, 1872: "Telegrams from my
uncle and Standhartner."
Wednesday, January 21, 1874: "I write to Dr.
Standhartner regarding the concert in Vienna."
Tuesday, July 28, 1874: "Telegram from our friend
Standhartner, saying he is arriving today with his
daughter, preparations and reception. Great joy at seeing
this dear, loyal, and understanding friend again. Made music
in the evening: third act of Siegfried. To my delight Dr.
Standhartner finds that R. is looking very well."
Saturday, August 1, 1874: "R. relates some
experiences from his life, the encounter with the King's
erstwhile fiancée, Princess Sophie.
Standhartner tells me how utterly the princes hate
R."
Sunday, August 2, 1874: "R. very unwell, he seems
to have caught cold yesterday, and singing is always a great
strain on him. I alone accompany our friends to the railroad
station; I am glad of Standhartner's love for Richard
and his delight in what he calls R.'s good fortune.
Comfortingly he finds him more cheerful than previously. But
in what state do we leave our friends? In these last two
years he has lost one son [Karl Schönaich] and
is returning to the other [son, Gustav
Schönaich] ,who is wasting away.... Oh life! We
drape our wounds with rags.---Last night I heard Fidi
sobbing I went to him, he complained that his throat was
sore, in alarm I sent for Standhartner, it turned out
to be nothing---but the shock, the alarm!....R. spends the
day in bed."
Sunday, January 3, 1875: "Very nice letter from
Dr. Standhartner, asking us to stay with him and his
family."
Saturday, February 20, 1875: "In Vienna at 10
o'clock on Sunday; Standhartner, the Academic W.
Society, 80 young people, and all sorts of others. Taken to
Standhartner's house, cordial welcome."
Wednesday, March 3, 1875: "Received calls, in the
evening a soirée in Makart's studio in R.'s
honor--Count and Countess Andrássy, Count and
Countess Széchenyi, Countess Festetics, lady in
waiting to the Empress, who told me in the morning that for
her R.'s art is like the creation of the world...Countess
Wickenburg, Count Hoyos, Countess Wilczek, Prince
Liechtenstein, the Standhartner family, the Liszt
family, Herr and Frau von Angeli, Dr. Mosenthal, Prince
Metternich, the Hellmesberger quartet, Semper (whom R.
Seeing him for the first time in 8 years, does not at first
recognize), Countess Dönhoff, Frau Wolter, and many
others---perhaps 60 people in all. A pleasant occasion,
everyone looking his best, face and clothes, and the general
mood very cheerful."
Thursday, March 4, 1875: "In the evening went
through the third act of Götterdämmerung in
Standhartner's house, with piano accompaniment."
Thursday, March 11, 1875: "At 2 o'clock welcomed
by the good Standhartners in Vienna."
Friday, March 12, 1875: "A letter has arrived from
the King [Ludwig II], as exalted and enthusiastic as ever.
He wants the fragments to be performed after Easter. R.
Wants to do the concert here without a rehearsal, our friend
Standhartner is against it."
Monday, May 3, 17875: "At 5 o'clock left for
Vienna, tolerable night journey; arrival at
Standhartners' at 9."
Thursday, May 6, 1875: "Concert at 12
o'clock--fine impression, 'Hagen's Watch' repeated. But R.
Is tired. I then visit the picture and flower exhibition
with Prince Liechtenstein and Standhartner."
Monday, May 10, 1875: "Sent off copies of
Götterdämmerung (to Mimi, the King,
Standhartner."
Thursday, July 8, 1875: "Preparations for the
children's arrival, and rehearsals, between times letters; I
to Dr. Standhartner, asking him to visit Hans [von
Bülow, her first husband] and give me a report on his
condition."
Monday, November 1, 1875: "Battered arrival at 6
o'clock in the morning; friend Standhartner at the
station."
Thursday, December 2, 1875: "A quartet
soirée at Hellmesberger's. In the evening our
Standhartner friends."
Saturday, January 1, 1876: "Went to church,
afterwards received visitors. R. discovers that the
newspapers are saying that Herr Scaria demanded 2,000
florins for his entire stay in Bayreuth and had been turned
down by the management committee! R. is requesting a
correction through Standhartner."
Thursday, February 10, 1876: "Standhartner
writes that Lohengrin will be possible in Vienna only on
March 2."
Friday, January 14, 1876: "Letters, a very good
one from Standhartner with an account of the
royalties, then a nice one (as always) from the King [Ludwig
II]."
Wednesday, April 12, 1876: "R. receives a letter
from Dr. Standhartner, saying Herr Jauner is making
the release of Frau Materna conditional on the performances
of Tristan and Walküre in Vienna next winter. So,
before the work has even been done here, the seeds of its
dissolution are being sown!"
Sunday, April 23, 1876: "Around midday, while our
musicians are having lunch with us, various telegrams
arrive; firstly, from Herr Niemann, recommending for
Sieglinde a Frl. v. Pretfeld, of whom all present say she
would be---because of her figure alone--- impossible! Then
from Herr Jauner, saying he is awaiting a reply to his
letter in order to come to an agreement with Frau Materna! A
veritable parade of baseness R. refers him to his letter to
Dr. Standhartner and concludes with the sentence that
he hopes he will not have to prepare himself for a hostile
attitude on the part of the management."
Wednesday, March 28, 1877: "God be praised! R. is
continuing to work on Parsifal, even though it means we
sometimes have to deal with repugnant business matters till
late in the night. Herr Hodge asks for a postponement of the
guaranteed payment, we grant it to him through the
lawyer.&emdash;Arrival of Richter, very vulgarly bringing
the 20,000 marks, with the request that R. should sign a
declaration of consent to the performance of the other three
works. R. is standing by what my father has written to
Standhartner. R[ichter] praises Die Walküre in
Vienna---from my father's account, I gather that it lacks
all dedication and nobility."
Saturday, April 21, 1877: "R. writes to friend
Standhartner, setting out the terms for the use of
the Nibelungen: ten percent instead of seven; 20,000 marks
as an advance (not as a gift); in return, exclusive rights
for the Austrian monarchy."
Wednesday, April 25, 1877: "From friend
Standhartner a telegram saying that neither the
Prince nor the management is raising any significant
objections to R.'s proposals (10 percent, 20,000 marks
advance)."
Wednesday, August 1, 1877: "Once again in
Wahnfried, Friend Standhartner."
Friday, August 3, 1877: "friend
Standhartner departs."
|
The Letters of Franz Liszt to Marie zu
Sayn-Wittgenstein. Translated and Edited by Howard E.
Hugo. (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1971).
March 31, 1877 [Bayreuth]: "You know
that Standhartner and M. Jauner have saddled me with
a commission, concerning the complete performance at Vienna
of the tetralogy, 'The Ring of the Nibelungs.' Wagner is now
not at all inclined to deal with the Opera directors: the
obvious proof, is that he declined the twenty thousand Mark
letter of credit brought him by Richter the day before
yesterday, as a premium from M. Jauner for the "Nibelungs."
When I spoke to him, however, of the supreme good-will that
the Emperor so kindly displayed toward his work, he answered
me immediately in tones of real emotion:
`As soon as His Majesty will be so good to
convey me his desire to see my Nibelungs performed at
Vienna,, I shall comply most respectfully, and then place my
work at the disposal of the Imperial Theater.'"
|
Cosima Wagner's Diaries. Vol. II: 1878-1883.
Edited and annotated by Martin Gregor-Dellin and Dietrich
Mack.
Translated and with an Introduction, Postscript, and
Additional Notes by Geoffrey Skelton. (New York, NY:
Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1980).
Monday, January 28, 1878: "Friend
Standhartner reports that Hans [Richter] has made up
for his remissness and that Rheingold is a big success in
Vienna---which we doubt, insofar as we have received no
telegrams about it."
Wednesday, June 5, 1878: "Memories of all our
other good old friends--Standhartner, Math[ilde]
Maier...."
Saturday, September 14, 1878: "Friend
Standhartner yesterday announced a visit, he is
coming from the international exposition in Paris, and since
he wrote in French, R. says, 'Il s'est exposé
lui-même comme ami de Wagner, et en cette
qualité il était en effet aasez exposé
là-bas' ['He has exposed himself as a friend of
Wagner, and in that capacity was truly exposed
there'].&emdash; As always when he jokes in French he makes
use of the best and most original of expressions."
Sunday, September 15, 1878: "Beautiful day; after waiting
in vain at the station for friend Standhartner, we
drive to the Eremitage."
Monday, September 16, 1878: "Friend
Standhartner tells us about the policemen in Gastein
who surround the German Emperor in masses, and if somebody
has a hand in his pocket when the Emperor or Bismarck passes
by, he is politely requested to take it out!"
Tuesday, November 5, 1878: "Before reading this
libretto [Spontini's Fernand Cortez] he received and
answered a letter from friend Standh....He tells me
that St[andhartner] was pleased with his clear,
straightforward letter."
Tuesday, November 12, 1878: "He comes upstairs to
fetch me, sits down beside me, and suddenly laughs about
Gurnemanz's herbs and roots: 'He sounds so cross, so
disgruntled.' Then he became a bit impatient and said, 'If
you only knew!' And soon I do know, for when I enter the
salon I see a magnificent Persian carpet for my room lying
there! . . . He had been in correspondence with
Standhartner about it, and now he sends off a
telegram of thanks, signed 'He and she.'"
Tuesday, January 4, 1881: "A nice letter from
Standhartner pleases him and starts him reminiscing
about Vienna; St. is proof, he says, that one can get
through to the Viennese with music&emdash;how much had he
done for him when he settled in Vienna! He describes the
bone structure of Standhartner's skull as
frighteningly Slavonic, yet at the same time pleasing."
Saturday, May 21, 1881: "At coffeetime the
Standhartners appear, father and daughter;
introductions and memories of Vienna."
Sunday, May 22, 1881: "R. slept well; the Flower
Greeting takes place a 8 o'clock and is very successful, the
clock presented by Fidi-Parsifal delights R., and he is
pleased with the flower costumes. The coats of arms of the
Wagner Society towns genuinely surprise him, and he is
pleased with the ceiling. In a mood of divine happiness he
strolls to the summerhouse with me in the blue robe, and we
exchange gold pens and little poems! Our lunch table
consists of: Standhartners 3 (with Gustav!),
Ritters (the parents), the Count, Jouk., Boni, Lusch, and
Fidi; in the hall Eva, Loldi, Ferdi Jager, Julchen and Elsa;
the latter two have to slip away unnoticed, so that the
singing of the verse will float down from the gallery.
Siegfried speaks Stein's poem very well, splendidly
proposing the health of eternal youth, and then in a full
voice Elsa movingly sings 'Nicht Gut noch Pracht,' etc.,
from above.---Over coffee Faf from the Festival Theater
appears with the program for this evening on his back. The
dear good children act out the little farces by Lope and
Sachs magnificently, and Lusch speaks Wolz's linking
epilogue particularly well. To the conclusion of the Sachs
play J. Rub. linked the Prelude to Die Msinger, and when R.
went into the salon, the children, in different costumes,
sang his 'Gruss der Getreuen'; at the conclusion of the
evening, after the meal, came the 'Kaisermarsch,' with
altered text. All splendidly done by the children, though we
are not entirely successful in sustaining the mood. Before
lunch R. was upset by the military band, which he---somewhat
to my concern---had allowed to take part, and it required
Siegfried's toast to raise his spirits again. In the evening
he was irked by the dullness of our friends, he asked
Standhartner to remain behind, without considering
that the stepson [G. Schönaich] would also then
remain, and the presence of this man whom he cannot bear
kept him from expressing all that was in his heart, and that
made him almost painfully unhappy. The successful parts are
what delighted me---the fact that unbidden things intervene
no longer bothers me, however much it once used to pain me:
I keep remembering that 'all transient things are but an
image.'"
Monday, November 6, 1882: "I have to wait a long time in
Saint Mark's Square for him [Wagner], and when he arrives
with the children, he tells me he had a very severe spasm (I
wrote to Standhartner). But he quickly recovers."
Postscript, p. 1014: "Paul von Joukowsky described
Wagner's death in a letter written on February 22, 1883, to
Malwida von Meysenburg:
"It was as glorious as his life. We were all waiting for
him to appear at table, for he had sent word to us to begin
lunch without him. In the meantime he had sent for the
doctor on account of his usual spasms; then at about 2:30 he
sent Betty to fetch Frau Wagner. The doctor came at 3:00,
which made us all feel easier; but around 4 o'clock, since
nobody had come out of his room, we became worried; then
suddenly Georg appeared and told us simply that it was all
over. He died at around 3 o'clock in the arms of his wife,
without suffering, falling asleep with an expression on his
face of such nobility and peace that the memory of it will
never leave me. She was alone with him the whole of the
first day and night, but then the doctor managed to persuade
her to go into another room. Since then I have not seen her,
and I shall never see her again; nobody will, except for the
children and Gross and his wife, since he is their legal
guardian. She will live in the upper rooms of the house,
existing only for his memory and for the children;
everything else in life has ceased to exist for her. So
write only to the children, for she will never read a letter
again. Since her dearest wish, to die with him, was not
fulfilled, she means at least to be dead to all others and
to lead the only life fitting for her, that of a nun who
will be a constant source of divine consolation to her
children. That is great, and in complete accord with all
else in her life...."
Certainly Cosima's first intention was exactly as
Joukowsky described it. In her desire for death she refused
all nourishment for many hours after Wagner died, then,
yielding to the inevitable, cut off her hair and laid it in
Wagner's coffin. Hidden from sight in black robes, she
accompanied her husband's body in the train back to
Bayreuth. At Wahnfried it was carried to the grave at the
bottom of the garden by Muncker, Peustel, Gross, Wolzogen,
Seidl, Joukowsky, Wilhelmj, Porges, Levi, Richter,
Standhartner, and Niemann. Daniela, Isolde, Eva, and
Siegfried walked beside the coffin&emdash;Blondine,
expecting her first child, was not present. Only after their
friends had left did Cosima emerge from the house to join
her children as the coffin was lowered into the grave."
|
W. J. Henderson, Richard Wagner: His Life and His
Dramas. A Biographical Study of the Man and an Exploration
of His Work. (New York, NY: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1901).
pp. 149-150 [1883]: "The exertions
necessary for the production of 'Parsifal' had told severely
on Wagner. It is said that at one rehearsal he fainted, and,
on recovering, exclaimed "Once more I have beaten Death.'
Dr. Standhartner, one of his firm Vienese friends,
examined him in the course of the summer, and found that a
heart affection [sic], from which the composer had long been
suffering, had made dangerous progress. Wagner was not told
of his exact condition, but he was warned that immediate
rest and relef from care was absolutely essentoal."
|
Adrian Williams, Portrait of Liszt By Himself and His
Contemporaries. (Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press, 1990).
pp. 650-651 [1885]: August Stradal*: "One morning,
when Dr Standhartner, the longstanding friend of
Wagner, Schoenaich, the well-known writer on music,
and I were at the Master's [Liszt]. Anton Bruckner appeared.
He was wearing an old-fashioned tailcoat. and in his hand
held an opera hat. His clothes were not quite up to date.
for with the coat he wore short grey leggings out of which
peeped a pair of enormous boots. A smile came over all
faces, especially when Bruckner addressed Liszt humbly with
the words, 'Your Grace, Herr Canon'. He had come to ask
Liszt to recommend a performance of his Seventh Symphony at
the Karlsruhe Tonkünstler-Versammlung (under Mottl).
Liszt apparently found Bruckner's request difficult to
refuse. It was no longer possible to include the whole work,
however, as the programme had already been drawn up.
Otherwise amenable to all requests, he seemed to find
Bruckner's reiterated entreaties disagreeable. At this short
meeting between the two masters I felt that Liszt had no
great liking for Bruckner as a composer. To be sure, I
remember that on saying farewell he showed Bruckner great
friendliness, promising that if it were still possible he
would comply with his request. But at the
Tonkünstler-Versammlung only the Adagio of the symphony
was played. After the return from Karlsruhe to Weimar. Liszt
did indeed express a favourable opinion of the Adagio, but,
all the same, one had the impression that the work did not
impress him particularly....
"Before leaving Vienna he visited the Musicians' Society.
Rubinstein, who was in the Austrian capital to attend
rehearsals of his opera Nero, also turned up that evening,
as did Brahms, the Society's honorary president."
*August Stradal (1860-1930), a
German-Bohemian pianist, was a pupil of Liszt.
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