Having found you, I can put up with my banishment from Germany, and I must look upon it almost as fortunate, for I could not have possibly been of such use to myself in Germany as you can be. But then I wanted you of all others. I cannot write your praise, but when we meet I will tell it you. Kindly and considerately as you treat me, you may feel sure that I as fully understand and appreciate the manner of your care of me. I know that you must act as you act, and not otherwise; and for the manner of your taking care of me I am especially thankful. One thing gives me anxiety: you forget yourself over me, and I cannot replace what you lose of yourself in this. Consider this well.
Your letter has in many respects made a great impression on me. I have convictions which perhaps you will never share, but which you will not think it necessary to combat when I tell you that they in no manner interfere with my artistic activity. I have felt the pulse of our modern art, and know that it must die, but this does not make me melancholy, but rather joyful, because I know that not art, but only our art, standing as it does outside of real existence, must perish, while the true, imperishable, ever-new art has still to be born. The monumental character of our art will disappear; the clinging and sticking to the past, the selfish care for continuity and possible immortality, we shall cast off; the Past will be Past, the Future will be Future, to us, and we shall live and create only in the Today, in the full Present. Remember that I used to call you happy in your particular art, because you were an immediate artist, actually present, and appealing to the senses at every moment. That you could do so only by means of an instrument was not your fault, but that of the inevitable conditions of our time, which reduces the individual man wholly to himself, and in which a.s.sociation, enabling the single artist to expend his power in the common and immediately present work of art, is an impossible thing. It was not my purpose to flatter you. I only expressed half consciously my knowledge that the representative alone is the true artist.
Our creations as poets and composers are in reality volition, not power; representation only is power--art. [Footnote: In the German original there is here a play upon the word "konnen" and its derivative, "kunst," which cannot be translated.] Believe me, I should be ten times happier if I were a dramatic representative instead of a dramatic poet and composer. With this conviction which I have gained, I am naturally not desirous to create works for which I should have to resign a life in the present in order to give them some flattering, fict.i.tious immortality. What cannot be made true today will remain untrue in the future. The vain desire of creating beyond the present for the future I abandon, but if I am to create for the present, that present must appear to me in a less disgusting form than it actually does. I renounce fame, and more especially the ridiculous spectre of posthumous fame, because I love my fellow-men too much to condemn them, for the sake of my vanity, to the poverty in which alone the posthumous fame of dead people finds its nourishment.
As things are, I am incited to artistic creativeness, not by ambition, but by the desire to hold communion with my friends and the wish to give them joy; where I know this desire and this wish to be satisfied I am happy and perfectly content. If you in little Weimar give my "Lohengrin" with zeal and love, joy and success, and were it only for the two performances of which you write, I shall be happy in the thought that my purpose has been perfectly accomplished, that my anxiety about this work is wholly at an end, and that now I may begin another effort at offering something new in a similar manner. Judge then, can you blame my conviction which rids me of all egoism, of all the small pa.s.sions of ambition? Surely not. Ah, that I might be able to communicate to all of you some of the blissful strength of my convictions!
Hear now what effect your letter has had upon me.
Last May I sent the poem of my "Siegfried" to a book-seller to be published, such as it is. In a short preface I explained that the completion and the performance of my work were beyond hope, and that I therefore communicated my intention to my friends. In fact, I shall not compose my "Siegfried" on the mere chance for the reasons I have just told you. Now, you offer to me the artistic a.s.sociation which might bring "Siegfried" to light. I demand representatives of heroes such as our stage has not yet seen; where are they to come from? Not from the air, but from the earth, for I believe you are in a good way to make them grow from the earth by dint of your inspiring care. Although our theatrical muddle is hopelessly confused, the best soil for all art is still to be found in our foolish actors and singers; their nature, if they have kept their hearts at all, is incorruptible; by means of enthusiasm you can make anything of them. Well then, as soon as you have produced Lohengrin to your own satisfaction I shall also produce my "Siegfried," but only for you and for Weimar. Two days ago I should not have believed that I should come to this resolution; I owe it to you.
My dear Liszt, from what I have told you you will see that, according to my view of the thing, your amiable anxiety for the further promulgation of my "Lohengrin" has my sympathy almost alone on account of its material advantages--for I must live--but not with a view to my fame. I might have the desire to communicate myself to a larger circle, but is he likely to be listened to who intrudes? I cannot and will not intrude. You surely have done enough to attract the attention of people towards me; shall I too b.u.t.tonhole them and ask them for a hearing? Dear friend, these people are flabby and cowardly; they have no heart. Leave them alone! If I am to succeed, it must be through people who care about the matter. Where I must offer myself I lose all my power. How can I care about a "Leipsic representation"? It would have to be a good representation, and how is that to be achieved unless some one like you undertook the thing? Do not forget that Weimar also would not exist for me if you did not happen to exist in Weimar. Good Lord! All depends upon one man in our days; the rest must be dragged along anyhow; nothing will go of itself. Even money considerations could not determine me to arrange performances which would of necessity be bad. Lord knows, although I have no money, I do not trouble about it excessively, for I have a notion that somehow I shall not starve. Just when I have nothing at all something always turns up, as, for instance, your last news, and then I feel suddenly calm and free of care. You see, dear friend, as long as you remain true to me I do not despair. As to your excellent proposal with regard to the treatment of Gluck"s operas, which has given me great pleasure, I shall soon write more definitely.
Although I have many more things to tell you, I think it better to conclude on this page. You say so many things to me that I become quite confused when I have to think of a detailed answer.
I know that I am safe with you as a child in its mother"s bosom.
What more is required beyond grat.i.tude and love? Farewell, and let me press you to my heart.
Your friend, happy through you,
RICHARD WAGNER
Herr von Zigesar will have a letter very soon; for the present I send him my best thanks for his valuable letter and his touching sympathy with my work. One more thing: a certain conductor, Abt, from this place will be at Weimar on August 28th to hear "Lohengrin." Kindly reserve a seat for him.
My best remembrances to Genast and my brave singers. I rejoice when I think of these good people. A whole family, Ritter by name, will come from Dresden to Switzerland next year, to settle near me; they also will be at Weimar. I am writing to Uhlig.
36.
DEAR FRIEND,
I have been asked to forward to you the enclosed bill for one hundred thalers. Do not thank me, and do not thank Herr von Zigesar either, who has signed the bill. You will perhaps remember that about a year ago I sent you the same amount; this time it comes again from the same source, which, for official reasons, desires to remain hidden.
We float in the full ether of your "Lohengrin." I flatter myself that we shall succeed in giving it according to your intentions.
We rehea.r.s.e every day for two or three hours, and the solo parts as well as the strings are in tolerable order. Tomorrow and afterwards I shall separately rehea.r.s.e the wind, which will be complete, in accordance with the demands of your score. We have ordered a ba.s.s clarinet, which will be excellently played by Herr Wahlbrul. Our violoncellos will be strengthened by the arrival from Paris of Cossmann, who will join our orchestra on August 15th. This is an excellent acquisition, which will, I hope, be followed by some others of the same sort, etc., etc. In short, all that it is humanly possible to do in Weimar in the year of grace 1850, you may be sure, will be done for your "Lohengrin,"
which, in spite of much stupid talk, some false anxiety, and some too real impediments, will, you may take my promise, be very decently performed on the 28th inst., after which I have invited myself to supper at Zigesar"s, who is fire and flame for Lohengrin. When he sends you your honorarium of from twenty-five to thirty louis d"or, towards the end of the month, kindly write to him a fairly long and friendly letter, for he fully shares my sympathy and admiration for your genius, and is the only person who can a.s.sist me in giving external significance to those sentiments. At his last stay in Berlin he spoke of Tannhauser to the King and the Prince of Prussia, so as to let them know in Berlin how the matter stands. Two or three days later please write also a few lines to Genast, who has behaved extremely well in all the transactions preceding "Lohengrin," and who will zealously execute your indications as to the mise-en-scene.
If you will do me a service, dear friend, send me, if possible by return of post, some metronomical indications for the introduction and several other important pieces, the duet between Lohengrin and Elsa in the third act amongst others. I believe I am not mistaken as to your wishes and intentions, but should still prefer to have conviction in figures as to this matter.
There will be no cut, no curtailment, in your score, and I shall do my best to have no lack of < fp.="" ffp.="">, and especially of . .
.--, which is the most difficult thing for the string instruments.
Farewell, dear friend! I think your work is sublime, and am your sincerely devoted
F. LISZT
37.
MY DEAREST FRIEND,
Many thanks for your letter received yesterday; also convey my cordial thanks to the donor. Dear friend, we all know who it is.
Why this official secrecy? I must confess that formerly I thought it more desirable to have an honorarium for my version of "Iphigenia in Aulis" than a present, but on second consideration I find that such an honorarium would have been little more than a present. Who knows better than myself that in our dear world of the Mine and Thine, of work and payment, I am a pure luxury? He who gives anything to me receives something quite superfluous and unnecessary in return. What do you think, who have taken such infinite pains to dispose of my works? Much as I think of my "Lohengrin," which you are bringing to light, I think as much and almost more of you and your terrible exertions. I know what these exertions are. When I saw you conduct a rehearsal of "Tannhauser," I knew at once what you were to me. What curious creatures we are! We can be happy only by the complete annihilation of our whole being; to be happy means with us to lose consciousness of ourselves. Stupid as it may sound, I call to you, Reserve yourself--as much as you can.
The arrival of a letter from you is always a feast to me, and all my friends are invited to it. If possible, let me have a few lines now and then as to the success of the rehearsals. I control myself violently, and let no one see it, but to you I must confess my sorrow is great not to hear my work under your direction. But I have to bear so many things, and shall bear this also. I think of myself as if I were dead. Whenever I have news of you, I am filled with new desire to commence some large artistic work; for literary work I have no longer any great inclination. Upon the whole, I preach to deaf ears; only he whom artistic experience has taught to find the right thing can understand what I mean; so it is better that every one should arrive by the aid of experience and do for himself what he can do. But I still feel enthusiasm for the work of art itself; the music of my Siegfried vibrates through all my nerves; it all depends upon a favourable mood, and that you, dear friend, will procure for me.
To Zigesar I shall write according to your wish. I have every reason to feel friendly towards him, and do so in very deed. To Genast I shall write tomorrow.
Another young friend of mine goes specially from Zurich to Weimar for the two performances of my opera; I shall give him a few lines of introduction to you. For the present I only ask you to get him a good seat for the two performances; please do not forget it. For a Herr Abt, from here, I asked the same favour last time.
You forgot in your last letter to reply as to the book of words.
I wrote to you that I should like to see a proof; it would be too late now, and therefore useless, to repeat that wish; therefore I ask you to see that the proof is read as carefully as possible.
Perhaps Professor Wolff, whom I greet cordially a thousand times, would be kind enough to correct a proof. This reminds me that I have corrected a mistake in the ma.n.u.script of the libretto, but not in the score. In the last words of Lohengrin"s leave-taking of Elsa it should be, instead of--
"mein zurnt der Gral wenn ich noch bleib," "mir zurnt," etc., etc.
You ask me also for a few metronomical indications of the tempo.
I consider this quite unnecessary, because I rely in all things on your artistic sympathy so thoroughly as to know that you need only be in a good humour with my work to find out the right thing everywhere; for the right thing consists in this only: that the effect corresponds with the intention. But, as you wish it, I send you the following, in confirmation, no doubt, of your own views:-
Instrumental Introduction.
[score excerpt]
(The triplets molto moderato.)
Act I., Scene 2, Elsa"s Song (page 35).
[score excerpt]
Later on--e.g., in the finale--this theme of course grows quicker.
[score excerpt]
(At the arrival of Lohengrin (A major) perhaps a little piu moderato.) The slow movement in E flat 3-4 (ensemble) in the finale of the first act you will, I presume, not take too slow, but with solemn emotion. The last bar of the orchestral ritornel must be played a good deal ritardando, so as to make the tempo of this postlude even more majestic where the trumpets enter, by which means also the violins will be enabled to bring out the lively staccato figures strongly and clearly.
Act II., Scene I.
[score excerpt]
Scene 3 (page 197).
[score excerpt]
Act III., Scene 2 (page 291).
[score excerpt]
Elsa: Fuhl" ich zu Dir so susz mein Herz entbrennen.