Muller and Eck were delighted by your greetings, and return them with enthusiasm.

Dear, good Liszt, I also thank you most cordially for all the care you take of me. Consider that I can give you nothing better in return than the best I can accomplish. Give me perfect peace, and you shall be satisfied. I hope my wife will be here soon; then you shall soon have good news of me.

Farewell, and continue to be my friend.

Your

RICHARD WAGNER

ZURICH, August 7th, 1849



27.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

After a silence of several months, I cannot address you without first of all thanking you once more with all my heart for the friendly assistance which enabled me to have my poor wife back again. By this assistance my wife made it possible to preserve and bring with her some favourite trifles of our former household and, before all, my grand piano. We are settled here as well as possible; and after a long interruption, full of pain and unrest, I am once more able to think of the execution of my great artistic plans for the future.

After this final reunion with my much-tried wife, nothing could have given me greater pleasure than to learn about the produce of your artistic activity. The pieces written by you for the centenary of Goethe's birth I have now seen in the pianoforte score, and have occupied myself with them attentively. With all my heart I bid you welcome, and am glad—especially also in sympathy with your friend—that you behave so valiantly in this field of honour, selected by you with glorious consistency. What I felt most vividly, after my acquaintance with these compositions, was the desire to know that you were writing an opera or finishing one already begun. The aphoristic nature of such tasks as those set you by this Goethe celebration must involuntarily be transferred to the artistic production, which therefore cannot attain to perfect warmth. Creative power in music appears to me like a bell, which the larger it is is the less able to give forth its full tone, unless an adequate power has set it in motion. This power is internal, and where it does not exist internally it does not exist at all. The purely internal, however, cannot operate unless it is stimulated by something external, related to it and yet different. Creative power in music surely requires this stimulus no less than does any other great artistic power; a great incitement alone can make it effective. As I have every reason to deem your power great, I desire for it the corresponding great incitement; for nothing here can be arbitrarily substituted or added: genuine strength can only create from necessity. Wherever in the series of your pieces Goethe himself incites your strength, the bell resounds with its natural full tone, and the clapper beats in it as the heart does in the body. If you had been able to ring the whole "Faust"-bell (I know this was impossible), if the detached pieces had had reference to a great whole, then that great whole would have thrown on the single pieces a reflex which is exactly the certain something that may be gained from the great whole, but not from the single piece. In single, aphoristic things we never attain repose; only in a great whole is great power self- contained, strong, and therefore, in spite of all excitement, reposeful. Unrest in what we do is a proof that our activity is not perfectly self-contained, that not our whole power, but only a detached particle of that power, is in action. This unrest I have found in your compositions, even as you must have found it too often in mine without better cause. With this unrest I was, however, better pleased than if comfortable self-contentment had been their prominent feature. I compare it to the claw by which I recognize the lion; but now I call out to you, Show us the complete lion: in other words, write or finish soon an opera.

Dear friend, look upon me with an earnest but kind glance! All the ills that have happened to me were the natural and necessary consequences of the discord of my own being. The power which is mine is quite unyielding and indivisible. By its nature it takes violent revenge when I try to turn or divide it by external force. To be wholly what I can be, and therefore, no doubt, should be, is only possible for me if I renounce all those external things which I could gain by dint of the aforesaid external force. That force would always make me fritter away my genuine power, would always conjure up the same evils. In all I do and think I am only artist, nothing but artist. If I am to throw myself into our modern publicity, I cannot conquer it as an artist, and God preserve me from dealing with it as a politician. Poor and without means for bare life, without goods or heritage, as I am, I should be compelled to think only of acquisition; but I have learnt nothing but my art, and that I cannot possibly use for the purpose of acquiring nowadays; I cannot seek publicity, and my artistic salvation could be brought about one day only by publicity seeking me. The publicity for which alone I can work is a small nucleus of individuals who constitute my whole publicity at present. To these individuals, therefore, I must turn, and put the question to them whether they love me and my art-work sufficiently to make it possible for me, as far as in them lies, to be myself, and to develop my activity without disturbance. These individuals are not many, and they live far from each other, but the character of their sympathy is an energetic one. Dear friend, the question with me is bare life. You have opened Paris to me, and I most certainly do not refuse it; but what I have to choose and to design for that place cannot be chosen and designed in a moment; I must there be some one else and yet necessarily remain the same. All my numerous sketches are adapted only to treatment by myself, and in the German language. Subjects which I should have been prepared to execute for Paris (such as "Jesus of Nazareth") turn out to be impossible for manifold reasons when I come to consider closely the practical bearings of the thing, and I must therefore have time and leisure to wait for inspiration, which I can expect only from some remote region of my nature. On the other hand, the poem of my "Siegfried" lies before me. After not having composed a note for two years, my whole artistic man is impelled towards writing the music for it. What I could possibly hope for from a Paris success would not even be able to keep me alive; for, without being thoroughly dishonest, I should have to hand it over to my creditors.

The question, then, is, How and whence shall I get enough to live? Is my finished work "Lohengrin" worth nothing? Is the opera which I am longing to complete worth nothing? It is true that to the present generation and to publicity as it is these must appear as a useless luxury. But how about the few who love these works? Should not they be allowed to offer to the poor suffering creator—not a remuneration, but the bare possibility of continuing to create?

To the tradesmen I cannot apply, nor to the existing nobility— not to human princes, but to princely men. To work my best, my inmost salvation, I am not in a position to rely on merit, but on grace. If we few in this villainous trading age are not gracious towards each other, how can we live in the name and for the honour of art?

Dear friend, you, I believe, are the only one on whom I can implicitly rely. Do not be frightened! I have tried to relieve you of the burden of this exclusive reliance; I have turned elsewhere, but in vain. From H. B., about whom you wrote to me, I have heard nothing, and am glad from my heart that I have not. Dear Liszt, let us leave the TRADESMEN alone once for all. They are human and even love art, but only as far as BUSINESS will allow.

Tell me; advise me! Hitherto my wife and I have kept ourselves alive by the help of a friend here. By the end of this month of October our last florins will be gone, and a wide, beautiful world lies before me, in which I have nothing to eat, nothing to warm myself with. Think of what you can do for me, dear, princely man! Let some one buy my "Lohengrin," skin and bones; let some one commission my "Siegfried." I will do it cheaply! Leaving our old plan of a confederation of princes out of the question, can you not find some other individuals who would join together to help me, if YOU were to ask them in the proper manner? Shall I put in the newspaper "I have nothing to live on; let him who loves me give me something"? I cannot do it because of my wife; she would die of shame. Oh the trouble it is to find a place in the world for a man like me! If nothing else will answer, you might perhaps give a concert "for an artist in distress." Consider everything, dear Liszt, and before all manage to send me soon some—some money. I want firewood, and a warm overcoat, because my wife has not brought my old one on account of its shabbiness. Consider!

From Belloni I soon expect an invitation to Paris, so as to get my "Tannhauser" overture performed at the Conservatoire, to begin with. Well, dear friend, give one of your much-occupied days to the serious and sympathetic consideration of what you might do for me. Your loving nature, free from all prejudice and only occupied with the artist in me, will suggest to you a great work of love which will be my salvation. Believe me, I speak sincerely and openly; believe me that in you lies my only hope.

Farewell. Receive, together with mine, the most ardent wishes of my good wife. Remember me, as one cordially devoted to her, to Princess Wittgenstein, and thank her in my name if she should think of me now and then.

Farewell, you good man, and let me soon hear from you.

Wholly yours,

RICHARD WAGNER

ZURICH, October 14th, 1849 (Am Zeltwege, in den hinteren Escherhausern, 182.)



28.

DEAR FRIEND,

For more than a month I have been detained here by the serious illness of the young Princess M. W. My return to Weymar is in consequence forcibly postponed for at least another month, and before returning there it is impossible for me to think of serving you with any efficiency. You propose to me to find you a purchaser for "Lohengrin" and "Siegfried." This will certainly not be an easy matter, for these operas, being essentially—I might say exclusively—German, can at most be represented in five or six German towns. You know, moreover, that since the Dresden affair OFFICIAL Germany is not favourable to your name. Dresden, Berlin, and Vienna are well-nigh impossible fields for your works for some time to come. If, as is not unlikely, I go to Berlin for a few days this winter, I shall try to interest the King in your genius and your future; perhaps I shall succeed in gaining his sympathy for you and in managing through that means your return by way of Berlin, which would certainly be your best chance. But I need not tell you how delicate such a step is, and how difficult to lead to a good end. As to the "confederation of princes" which you mention again in your letter, I must unfortunately repeat to you that I believe in its realization about as much as in mythology.

Nevertheless I shall not omit to sound the disposition of H.H. the Duke of Coburg during the visit I shall probably have the honour of paying him at the beginning of January. By his superior intelligence and personal love of music, access to him will be made easier. But as to the other thirty-eight sovereigns of Germany (excepting Weymar, Gotha, and Berlin), I confess that I do not know how I shall manage to instill into them so subtle an idea as would be the positive encouragement and the active protection of an artist of your stamp.

As to the dedication of "Tannhauser," the Hereditary Grand Duke, while graciously receiving your intention, has sent me word that it would be more convenient to defer the publication for a few months, so that I have not been in a hurry to make the necessary arrangements for the engraving of the dedication plate.

Try, my dear friend, to get on as best you can till Christmas. My purse is completely dry at this moment; and you are aware, no doubt, that the fortune of the Princess has been for a year without an administrator, and may be completely confiscated any day. Towards the end of the year I reckon upon money coming in, and shall then certainly not fail to let you have some, as far as my very limited means will go; you know what heavy charges are weighing upon me. Before thinking of myself I must provide for the comfortable existence of my mother and my dear children in Paris, and I can also not avoid paying Belloni a modest salary for the services he renders me, although he has always shown himself most nobly disinterested on my behalf. My concert career, as you know, has been closed for more than two years past, and I cannot resume it imprudently without serious damage to my present position and still more to my future.

However, on my way through Hamburg I have yielded to numerous solicitations to conduct in April a grand "Musical Festival," the greater part of the receipts of which will be devoted to the "Pension Fund of Musicians," which I founded about seven years ago.

Your "Tannhauser" overture will of course figure in the programme, and perhaps also, if we have sufficient time and means, the finale of the first or second act,—unless you have some other pieces to propose. Kindly write on this subject to your niece, who is engaged for the whole winter at Hamburg, and ask her to come to our assistance on this occasion. For it is my firm intention (not AVOWED or DIVULGED, you understand, for there would be much inconvenience and no advantage in confiding it to friends or the public) to set aside part of the receipts for you. Could not you, on your part, arrange some concerts at Zurich, the proceeds of which would enable you to get through the winter tolerably? Why should you not undertake this? Your personal dignity, it seems to me, would not in the least suffer by it.

Yet another thing, another string to your bow. Should you think it inconvenient to publish a book of vocal compositions,—lieder or ballads, melodies or lyrical effusions, anything? For a work of this class signed with your name I can easily find a publisher and insist upon a decent honorarium, and there is surely nothing derogatory in continuing in a path which Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert, and Rossini have not disdained. I quite understand what you say of my compositions in the "Goethe Album," and only regret you did not hear my "Tasso" overture, which, I flatter myself, would not have displeased you. In consequence of the good opinion which you kindly express of my talent as a composer, I am going to ask you a favour if the idea meets with your approval. While recently glancing through the volume of Lord Byron which has scarcely ever quitted me on my travels, I came again upon the mystery "Heaven and Earth," and on reading it once more felt persuaded that one might turn it to good account by preserving the difference of character between the two women Anah and Aholibamah and by keeping of course the Deluge as a purely instrumental piece for the denouement. If in your free moments you could think of cutting out of this an oratorio of moderate length, as in Byron, I should be truly obliged to you.

Read over the Mystery, and tell me whether you like my plan. In the course of the summer my "Sardanapalus" (in Italian) will be completely finished, and I shall be delighted to undertake another work at once.

If you reply before the end of November, address Buckeburg, for I shall not return to Weymar, for the rest of the winter, till the beginning of December.

Remember me very kindly to Madame Wagner, and in all circumstances rely upon my devoted friendship and admiration.

F. LISZT

BOCKEBURG, October 28th, 1849



29.

MY DEAR FRIEND LISZT,

God knows, the more I look into my future, the more I feel what I possess in you. Such as I am and such as you are, I come to understand better and better what a rare degree of friendship and kindness you must have towards me to show me the most active sympathy of all my friends, in spite of many sides of my nature which cannot possibly be agreeable to you. You resemble in this the true poet who, with perfect impartiality, takes every phenomenon of life as it is according to its essence. As regards your anxiety about me, I can assure you that if you had sent me some assistance in answer to my last request, I should not have been more touched than I was in feeling with you your sorrow at having to confess that for the time being you could not send me anything. I helped myself as well as I could by applying to my friends here. If I had not a wife, and a wife who has already gone with me through such hard times, I should be much less anxious about the future; but for her sake I frequently sink into deep dejection. But that dejection does not help me on; and, thanks to my healthy nature, I always nerve myself to renewed courage. Having lately expressed my whole view of art in a work entitled "The Art-work of the Future," I am now free from all theoretic hankerings, and have got so far as to care about nothing but doing art-work. I should have liked best to complete my "Siegfried," but this wish I could realize only in exceptionally favourable circumstances, namely if I could look forward to a year free from material care. This is not the case, and the care for my future makes it my duty altogether to think more seriously of my appointed tasks than has hitherto been possible amidst the most conflicting impressions. Listen, dear friend: the reason why for a long time I could not warm to the idea of writing an opera for Paris was a certain artistic dislike of the French language which is peculiar to me. You will not understand this, being at home in all Europe, while I came into the world in a specifically Teutonic manner. But this dislike I have conquered in favour of an important artistic undertaking. The next question was the poem and a subject, and here I must confess that it would be absolutely impossible for me simply to write music to another man's poems, not because I consider this beneath me, but because I know, and know by experience, that my music would be bad and meaningless. What operatic subjects I had in my head would not have done for Paris, and this was the cause of my hesitation in the whole affair which you had initiated so well. Since then I have clearly discovered what task I have in reality to perform in Paris, so as to remain true to myself and yet keep Paris always in my mind's eye. As to this, dear friend, we shall perhaps understand each other perfectly, and you will agree with me when I determine not to become a Frenchman (in which I should never succeed, and which the French do not want from a German), but to remain as I am and in my own character to speak to the French comprehensibly. Well, in this sense the subject for a poem has quite recently occurred to me, which I shall immediately work out and communicate to Gustave Vaez; it is highly original and suitable to all conditions. More I will tell you as soon as I have finished the scenario. Belloni has asked me for the scores of my overtures to "Tannhauser" and "Rienzi," the first for a concert at the Conservatoire; I believe it is to be performed next January, and at that time I shall go to Paris myself to conduct the overture, to settle everything with Gustave Vaez, and to co-operate with him in obtaining a commission for an opera. One thing more: I cannot allow my "Lohengrin" to lie by and decay. Latterly I have accustomed myself to the notion of giving it to the world at first in a foreign language, and I now take up your own former idea of having it translated into English, so as to make its production in London possible. I am not afraid that this opera would not be understood by the English, and for a slight alteration I should be quite prepared. As yet, however, I do not know a single person in London. With the publisher Beal I made acquaintance par distance when he printed the overture to "Rienzi," but apart from this I have no connection with London. Could you manage, dear friend, to write to London and to introduce my undertaking, and could you also let me know to whom to apply further? From Paris I should then go to London, in order to settle the matter if possible.

You perceive that I am only intent on carrying out the scheme originally suggested by you. Do not be angry with me for taking it in hand so late. At first it was your plan exclusively, and I had to make it mine; my awkwardness in this you must kindly attribute to my extraordinary position and mental trouble.

But now it is important, dear Liszt, to provide me with means for this definite object. That you alone cannot support me I realized long ago; and knowing as I do your position, it is altogether with a heavy heart that I ask you for further sacrifices. I have therefore applied to a friend at Dresden (himself poor), and have asked him to see if he could get me some money from my other friends, so as to help me, in conjunction with you, over my immediate and greatest difficulties. His news so far does not lead me to expect any great success from his efforts, and in any case it will not amount to much. You were kind enough to promise me some assistance from your own means towards the end of the year. Do not be angry if I assure you that I shall be compelled to count upon your kind fulfillment of this promise.

I trust in no one else, and do not indulge in any further illusions. Of a concert in Zurich I have thought myself. The local concert society have asked me to study with their orchestra, which is feeble, a symphony by Beethoven and one of my compositions, in return for which they would arrange a benefit concert lor me. The necessary increase of the strings, which I had to demand as a point of honour, has delayed the matter up till now, and it will be probably the beginning of January before the subscription concert takes place which is to be, so to speak, the captatio benevolentioe for my benefit concert. It is therefore not unlikely that I shall not be able to wait for the favourable moment, as I expect to be summoned to Paris by Belloni towards the beginning of next year. Any assistance from that quarter is therefore very problematic. Your thought of me in wishing to set aside part of the receipts of an intended concert at Hamburg has touched me deeply. You are a good man; and every day, alas! I feel more sure that I have no friend like you. In any case my niece shall interest herself in the concert; that small errand I willingly undertake.

All I want is to provide my poor wife during my absence with the money necessary for her subsistence, which will not amount to much, also to enable me to pay for my journeys and my stay in Paris and London. Belloni must get me a small, cheap room, and I promise to be as careful as possible in every way. I trust you and the above-mentioned friends will be able to provide me with the necessary means. Let us hope that success will reward your beautiful and rare sympathy.

Farewell, dear and valued friend! Remember me and my wife cordially to Princess Wittgenstein, and be assured at all times of my enthusiastic recognition of your rare and beautiful nature.

Always your deeply obliged friend,

RICHARD WAGNER

ZURICH, December 5th, 1849 The subject from Byron I shall certainly consider. As yet I do not know it, nor have had time to make myself acquainted with it, for which you must pardon me. I should be too glad to be of any service to you, and am thankful to you for showing me the way to do it. Let me only finish my opera sketch for Paris first.

My address is "Am Zeltweg, in den hinteren Escherhausern," No. 182.



30.

DEAR FRIEND,

I have just returned to Weymar, and hasten to send you a bill on Rothschild for five hundred francs. According to what you tell me, I hope it will be of service to you in Paris, where, I am convinced, you will find the best field for your activity and your genius.

I quite agree with your decision "to remain thoroughly faithful to yourself and yet always to have Paris before your eyes in the conception and execution of your designs." I anticipate soon the most excellent and satisfactory results. You are quite right in not wishing to become a Frenchman; apart from the fact that you would scarcely succeed, your task is a different and even a contrary one, viz., to Germanize the French in your sense of the word, or rather to inspire them and fill them with enthusiasm for more general, more comprehensive, more elevated, dramatic art- work.

I should be delighted to learn what operatic subject you have selected, and my earnest desire is that you will use all your time in hastening the representation. In actual circumstances it is almost impossible for you to think of a speedy return to Germany where, moreover, you would find nothing but disagreeable things, envy, and enmity. Paris and perhaps London are absolutely necessary for your present and future career. Whatever the annoyances and sufferings may be which you will have to go through during the period of transition in which you are unhappily placed, take courage and have full confidence in the star of your genius. The day after your first performance in Paris you will be "as one new-born and content like a Greek god."

Regarding London, it will be somewhat difficult to place your "Lohengrin" there. It depends very much upon the chance of a good opportunity, which I hope will turn up. I shortly expect M. Ernst on his return from London, and he will give me some details as to the actual situation and the personnel of the London theatres. Italian opera not being suitable to you in any form, you will have to attach yourself to one of the ephemeral enterprises of the English stage, ensuring, of course, every possible precaution and guarantee. I shall one of these days write direct to Mr. Chorley, an excellent friend of mine, who will give me the necessary information and help you during your stay in London. Before the spring I shall perhaps be able to give you some favourable news. You on your part must strike every iron while it is hot, and before all "stick to our Paris plans." For the fete of the Grand Duchess I shall conduct "Iphigenia in Aulis," which Herr von Zigesar has got for me from Dresden, and this in spite of the opposition, from want of intelligence or evil intention, which I shall have to encounter. Herr von Luttichau has declined all responsibility for the loan of your score, and I have boldly undertaken to be answerable to you for it.

At the end of the week we shall repeat "Tannhauser," which, by some miracle of taste, the Weymar public and many people from the surrounding towns have demanded ever since the beginning of the theatrical season, and which has been postponed only on account of my absence.

Let me hear from you soon, dear friend, and continue to dispose of me as of your sincerely devoted friend,

F. LISZT

WEYMAR, January 14th, 1850

P.S.—Kindly give my best remembrances and compliments to Madame Wagner.



31.

MY DEAR LISZT,

You will know by this time how I have fared in Paris. The performance of my overture came to nothing, and all your trouble about it has been in vain. Poor man!

In my life some decisive events have happened; the last shackles have fallen that tied me to a world in which I must have perished soon, not only mentally, but physically. Through the eternal compulsion imposed upon me by my immediate surroundings, I have lost my health, and my nerves are shattered. In the immediate future I must live only for my recovery; my existence is provided for; you shall hear from me from time to time.

Dear friend, I have just been looking through the score of my "Lohengrin." I very seldom read my own works. An immense desire has sprung up in me to have this work performed. I address this wish to your heart:—

Perform my "Lohengrin"! You are the only one to whom I could address this prayer; to none but you I should entrust the creation of this opera; to you I give it with perfect and joyous confidence. Perform it where you like, even if only in Weimar; I feel certain you will procure every possible and necessary means, and they will refuse you nothing. Perform "Lohengrin," and let its existence be your work. There is a correct score of the opera at Dresden. Herr von Luttichau has bought it of me for the price of the copying (thirty-six thalers). As he is not going to perform it—against which I should protest, considering the musical, direction in that city—it is possible that he will let you have the copy on repayment of the thirty—six thalers, or else he will in any case have it copied out for you. This letter may be your authority for receiving it,

If you comply with my wish, I shall send you soon a complete libretto, with exact indications of my view as to the mise-en- scene, etc.

Do what you can and what you like. You shall soon hear from me again.

Belloni tells me that you have promised him to get me an additional five hundred francs for the score of "Iphigenia." If you succeed in this, remit the money for me to Belloni; I shall in my thoughts dispose of it.

Farewell, dear friend and brother. Remember me to my few friends. If the Grand Duchess and the Hereditary Grand Duke will accept a greeting, greet them most cordially from me.

Farewell, and think well of

Your faithful and grateful

RICHARD WAGNER

PARIS, April 21st, 1850



32.

DEAREST LISZT,

I herewith send you the promised directions for the performance of "Lohengrin." Pardon me if they come too late. I heard only recently with what amiable and speedy readiness you have complied with my wish for the performance of this opera. When we meet again, I shall have many things to tell you. Of my immediate past I only say that my intended journey to Greece has come to nothing; there were too many impediments, which I found it impossible to overcome. Better than anything else I should have liked to get out of the world altogether. Of this more later on.

As I understand that you are going to perform "Lohengrin" as early as August 28th, I must not delay my instructions any longer, leaving other matters for a later communication.

First of all, I have in the enclosed treated of scenery and decorations. My drawings made for that purpose will give you great delight; I count them amongst the most successful creations of my genius. Where my technique forsook me, you must be satisfied with the good intention, which will be clear to you from the literary explanation attached to it. The trees especially presented me with insuperable difficulties, and if every painter has to perspire over perspective as I have done, his art is by no means an easy calling. As to the rest, I have in my notes always referred to the full score, in which I have indicated—much more fully and clearly than in the libretto—the scenic action in conjunction with the music. The stage-manager will have to go exactly by the score, or at least an arrangement of it.

As to the orchestra, I have also put down some remarks for you.

But now I have first of all a great wish to address to you:

Give the opera as it is; cut nothing!

One single cut I will indicate to you myself, and I even insist upon the omission of the passage, viz., the second part of Lohengrin's tale in the final scene of the third act. After the words of Lohengrin—"Sein Ritter ich bin Lohengrin ge"—[nannt fifty-six bars must be omitted] "Wo ihr mit Gott mich landen" ["saht" therefore,—"nannt" instead of "saht"].

I have frequently sung it to myself, and have come to the conclusion that this second part of the tale must produce a depressing effect. The passage is therefore to be omitted in the libretto as well.

As to the rest, I must request you urgently, Let me for once do as I like. I have been intent upon establishing so unfailing, so plastic, a connection between the music and the poem and action, that I feel quite certain as to the result. Rely upon me, and do not attribute it to my being in love with my own work. If you should feel compelled to make cuts on account of excessive difficulty, I should ask you to consider whether it would not be better to leave the performance alone on account of insufficiency of means. I assume, however, that all possible means will be readily placed at your disposal, and also that you will succeed in conquering every difficulty if you are fully determined to do so. If you make up your mind that it must be, then I am sure that it will be, or else that you would rather give up the whole thing. As to this, I think, we agree.

Concerning the chief thing, the cast of vocalists, I rely upon you with perfect confidence. You will not undertake impossible things. Our friend Gotze, to whom I am in any case much indebted for his Tannhauser, will find more difficulties in Lohengrin, because he lacks in external appearance and voice that resplendent quality which, where nature has vouchsafed it, must make the part easy. Let him supply that resplendence as far as possible by means of art. To look at him ought to make one's eyes smart. A newly revised libretto intended for the printer I send at the same time with this. It will arrive by the ordinary mail. As to this libretto, I have the following wish to express: Sell it, or if you can get nothing for it, give it to a publisher who will undertake to bring it out beautifully, at least as well as the libretto of "Tannhauser"; the Weimar theatre then gets as many copies from the publisher as it wants for sale in the house, allowing a certain commission. This is exactly what we did with "Tannhauser." As I should like you to dispose of the pianoforte score, made by Uhlig in Dresden, to a music-publisher, the best way would be to offer the libretto to the same man whom you have in your eye for the pianoforte arrangement. That libretto, if sold at a moderate price, is, however, by no means a bad business. Of "Tannhauser" we sold over two thousand copies. One thing more: tell me, dear Liszt, how could we make it possible that I could attend the first performance in Weimar incognito? This is a desperate question, especially as at this moment it is no longer, as it recently was, a matter of indifference to me whether I am to dwell in a royal Saxon prison or not. Listen: I hold the Grand Duchess in high regard; would not this lady, to whom I attribute real nobility, at your suggestion be inclined for the stroke of genius of duping the police of united Germany, and of getting me a safe conduct under an assumed name from Switzerland to Weimar and back again to Zurich? I promise faithfully to preserve my incognito in the most stoical manner, to lie perdu in Weimar for a little time, and to go straight back, guaranteeing all the time the strictest secrecy from abroad also. Or would this be more easily achievable through the Duke of Coburg? Of him I hear many things that delight me. Anyhow look into this; you would give a poor devil like me real joy, and perhaps a new stimulus and much-needed encouragement.

If it is possible, or even if it is impossible, I ask further, Would you like to pay me a short visit in Zurich soon? You are devilish quick at such things. If I could see you again now, I should go half mad through joy, therefore wholly mad, as people have surely taken me for half mad a long time since. I would sing "Lohengrin" to you from A to Z; that would be a real pleasure! Enough for today. I shall soon write again. Whether I have got any money from Weimar for "Iphigenia" I cannot tell yet; there has latterly been much confusion around me. I am about to crush some most absurd rumours which have been spread abroad concerning me by returning to Zurich. Address to me there "Enge, Sterngasse, Hirzel's Haus, Zurich."

Farewell, old, dear, only friend! I know you love me. Believe that I respond from my fullest heart.

Ever thine,

RICHARD WAGNER

THUN, July 2nd, 1850



33.

DEAR LISZT,

Would you be kind enough to answer the following simple question briefly by "Yes" or "No"? Did the management of the Weimar theatre intend to pay me five hundred francs for my version of "Iphigenia," as Belloni told me after his return to Weimar? Further, have these five hundred francs been sent anywhere for me, and to whom and where should I in that case have to apply? or if they have not been sent, may I still count on them? Lastly, if the latter should be the case, will you ask Herr von Zigesar to send three hundred francs of the sum to Belloni in Paris, in settlement of a tailor's bill falling due July 15th, and remit the balance of two hundred francs to me at Zurich as soon as possible?

My question has become more complicated than I thought, as complicated, indeed, as is the demand on Herr von Zigesar to pay me five hundred francs for a mere arrangement. That you have managed to insist upon this demand I must in any case look upon as one of your miracles.

Dearest friend, you have, I hope, received my long letter from Thun. Shall I soon hear from you, or could you really manage to pay me a flying visit?

Best greetings from your most faithful

RICHARD WAGNER

ZURICH, July l0th, 1850

(Bei Frau Hirzel, Sterngasse, Enge.)



34.

DEAREST FRIEND,

Believe me, you have not for a moment ceased to be very near to my heart. The serious, enthusiastic admiration I have for your genius would not be satisfied with sleepy habits and barren sentiments. All that I can possibly do, either in the interest of your reputation and glory or in that of your person, you may feel perfectly certain will in no circumstances remain undone. Only a friend like you is not always quite easy and convenient to serve, for those who understand you must wish, before all, to serve you in an intelligent and dignified manner. I hope that so far I have not been wanting in these two essential conditions, and I do not mean to depart from them for the future. You may therefore have full confidence in me, and listen to me, and believe me as one who is frankly and without restriction devoted to you. But let us speak definitely of your affairs, which, for some time at least, I have made seriously my own.

1. I found it impossible to get the five hundred francs for "Iphigenia" from the management. Nevertheless, you shall not be disappointed, for at the same time with this letter I forward to Belloni in Paris three hundred francs from my private purse, which he will hold at your disposal, and pay at your order either to your tailor or to any other person you may indicate. Apart from this, I have good hope that Herr von Zigesar, from whom I enclose a few lines, will be able to send you in a few days one hundred thalers, independently of the honorarium for "Lohengrin," which will be about thirty louis d'or.

2. Your "Lohengrin" will be given under exceptional conditions, which are most favourable to its success. The management for this occasion spends about 2,000 thalers, a thing that has not been done in Weymar within the memory of man. The press will not be forgotten, and suitable and seriously conceived articles will appear successively in several papers. All the personnel will be put on its mettle. The number of violins will be slightly increased (from sixteen to eighteen), and a bass clarinet has been purchased. Nothing essential will be wanting in the musical material or design. I undertake all the rehearsals with pianoforte, chorus, strings, and orchestra. Genast will follow your indications for the mise-en-scene with zeal and energy. It is understood that we shall not cut a note, not an iota, of your work, and that we shall give it in its absolute beauty, as far as is in our power. The special date of August 28th, on which "Lohengrin" will be performed, cannot be but favourable to it. To speak truth, I should not be allowed to put so extraordinary a. work on the stage in the ordinary course of the theatrical season. Herr von Zigesar has fully realized that "Lohengrin" must be an event. For that reason they have curtailed the theatrical holidays by one-half, and have asked my friend Dingelstedt to write a prologue ad hoc, which he will bring us himself towards the middle of August, the first performance being fixed for August 28th, the anniversary of Goethe's birth, and three days after the inauguration of the Herder monument, which will take place on the 25th. In connection with that Herder monument we shall have a great concourse of people here; and besides that, for the 28th the delegates of the Goethe foundation are convoked to settle the definite programme of that foundation at Weymar.

After two consecutive performances of "Lohengrin" the theatre will close again for another month, and "Lohengrin" will not be resumed till some time in the course of the winter.

3. With regard to the sale of the score, the matter is not quite so simple, and I need not enumerate and explain to you the commercial difficulties. Nevertheless, if you charge me with this matter, I shall be to bring it to a good end; but a little time will be necessary. If, as I have no doubt, the success of "Lohengrin" is once firmly established at Weymar, you will perhaps find means to influence the B.'s so that they may have it done at Leipsic. In that case Tichatschek would be required for the principal part, and your most devoted capellmeister would, if you should think it necessary, take care of the rest on certain conditions.

If the work succeeds at Leipzig, a publisher will easily be found; but I must not conceal from you that the success of "Lohengrin" seems to me somewhat doubtful, unless the necessary preliminary precautions with regard to study, rehearsals, and the press are taken. In leaving it to its fate—although, no doubt, it deserves a propitious fate—I have serious apprehensions from the ill-will which attaches to you personally and from the envy and stupidity which still combat your genius. Consider therefore carefully what plan you had better adopt in this matter. In the meantime I thank you cordially for the indications and hints which you give me about the score. I shall obey them with respect and friendship. Kindly write two words to Herr Uhlig in Dresden so as to prevent him from making difficulties about sending me the pianoforte score, which will be very useful to me.

I come to a point which pains me much, but which it is my duty not to conceal from you. Your return to Germany and visit to Weymar for the performance of "Lohengrin" is an absolute impossibility. When we meet again, I can give you verbally the details, which it would be too long and useless to write. Once more, it is necessary that you should be served with intelligence and dignity, and you would not be served in that manner by hazarding steps which must infallibly lead to an unfavourable result. What I think of most, and what, with God's help, may bring about "a turn in your situation," is the success of "Lohengrin"; and if that is once well established, I shall propose to their Highnesses to authorize me to write to you or to let Herr von Zigesar write to you commissioning you to finish your "Siegfried" as soon as possible, and sending you for that purpose a suitable honorarium in advance, so that you may be able to work for some six months at the completion of that opera free from material care.

Speak to no one of this plan, which I hope to carry out in due time.

Till then keep your head and your health in good condition, and count entirely upon your sincerely devoted and affectionate friend,

F. LISZT

Herr von Zigesar will write to you direct about the sale of the libretto of "Lohengrin." The best thing would be if Brockhaus would undertake the edition, and Z. has written to him on the subject. You, on your part, might write to him to the same effect, which would be a good beginning of the plan which I shall submit to your ultimate decision. Yet another and quite different question: Should you be inclined to undertake in connection with "Alceste," "Orphee," "Armide," and "Iphigenia en Tauride," by Gluck, a similar task to that which you have already performed for "Iphigenie en Aulide," and what sum would you expect by way of honorarium? Write to me on this subject when you have time; there is no hurry about it, but perhaps I might be able to suggest the idea of such a commission to the proper person.



35.

MY DEAR LISZT,

I must say, You are a friend. Let me say no more to you, for although I always recognized in friendship between men the noblest and highest human relation, it was you who embodied this idea in its fullest reality by letting me no longer imagine, but feel and grasp, what a friend is.

I do not thank you, for you alone have the power to thank yourself by your joy in being what you are. It is noble to have a friend, but still nobler to be a friend.

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 association, 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, fictitious 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 passions 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 association 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 buttonhole 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 gratitude 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 rehearse 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 rehearse the wind, which will be complete, in accordance with the demands of your score. We have ordered a bass 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 assist 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 , 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 manuscript 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.

Grand and perfect repose is here the chief thing. In singing the passage, I found that I paused a little on the second and fourth part of the bar, but of course in such a manner as to be scarcely perceptible in a rhythmical sense, only as a matter of expression.

[score excerpt]

Lohengrin: Ath-mest Du nicht mit mir die suss-en. Page 39.

[score excerpt]

Dein Lie-ben muss mir hoch ent - gel - - ten.

(Here the tempo becomes a little slower.)

But enough, perhaps too much already. With all these indications, I appear mean before you. You will do it all right, perhaps better than I should. Only see that we soon meet again; I long to be with you. Or do you find me too effusive? No! Farewell, my dear, good Liszt. Write to me soon.

Yours,

RICHARD WAGNER.

ZURICH, August 16th, 1850. (Abendstern-Enge, Zurich.)



38.

At this moment, dearest friend, after having closed the letter already, I begin to feel a doubt whether you have received my last letter, which I sent you about eighteen days ago. I am uncertain because you make no mention of its contents, which were—

1. A letter from me to Zigesar.

2. One bar of music (full score), which was to be added at the end of Lohengrin's tale in Act III. (the cut which I want in this scene—omission of the second part of Lohengrin's tale—you also do not mention; I assume that you agree).

3. My asking you to send me a proof of the libretto (now too late).

If you have not received this letter, kindly let me know at once, because in that case I should like to send you the aforementioned additional bar, which might still arrive in time for the general rehearsal.

R. W.



39.

DEAR LISZT,

The bearer of this greeting is my young friend Karl Ritter, whose visit I announced to you in my last letter. His family has migrated from Russia, where they formerly lived, to Dresden; and their intention is later on to settle in Switzerland near me. Karl has preceded them in any case, and will stay for the summer with me. He is thoroughly cultured and full of talent, and his musical gift especially is considerable. He was unable to resist the desire to hear my Lohengrin, the score of which he knows thoroughly, under your direction; and therefore he has journeyed to Weimar, to return to me after the second representation. I need scarcely ask you to be kind to him, for I know that it is your nature to be amiable. Please take him with you to the general rehearsal and see that he gets a good place at the performances, which his family from Dresden also will attend. I thank you in advance for this kindness.

I shall spend the day and evening of the 28th with my wife alone on the Righi. This little trip to the Alps, which has been made possible by your kindly care, will, I hope, benefit my bodily and mental condition, especially in these days, when I am naturally moved by many feelings. Farewell, dear friend. Write soon, and be always sure of my most devoted love.

Your

RICHARD WAGNER.

ZURICH, August 22nd, 1850.



40.

DEAREST FRIEND,

Your "Lohengrin" is a sublime work from one end to the other. The tears rose from my heart in more than one place. The whole opera being one indivisible wonder, I cannot stop to point out any particular passage, combination, or effect. A pious ecclesiastic once underlined word for word the whole "Imitatio Christi;" in the same way I might underline your "Lohengrin" note for note. In that case, however, I should like to begin at the end; that is, at the duet between Elsa and Lohengrin in the third act, which to my thinking is the acme of the beautiful and true in art.

Our first representation was, comparatively speaking, satisfactory. Herr von B., who will see you soon, will bring you very accurate news. The second performance cannot take place before ten or twelve days. The court and the few intelligent persons in Weymar are full of sympathy and admiration for your work; and as to the public at large, they will think themselves in honour bound to admire and applaud what they cannot understand. As soon as I have a little rest I shall begin the article which will probably appear in the "Debats"; in the meantime Raff, about whom B. will speak to you, will write two notices in the journal of Brockhaus and in the "Leipzig Illustrirte Zeitung". Uhlig will look after Brendel's paper, etc.

If you have a moment, do not forget to write to Genast, who has very warmly interested himself in the success of "Lohengrin". You may be quite assured of the fate of the masterpiece in Weymar, which is, no doubt, a little surprised at being able to produce such things. Before the end of the winter "Lohengrin" will certainly become a "draw."

When shall we have "Siegfried"? Write to me soon, and always count on your devoted friend and servant,

F. LISZT.

WEYMAR, September 2nd.



41.

DEAR FRIEND,

I can no longer delay writing to you, although I should have preferred to wait for another letter from you, so as to answer any possible questions of yours. As far as I can at present form an opinion of the character of the "Lohengrin" performance at Weimar from the accounts that have reached me, there is one thing that stands forth in the surest and most indubitable manner, viz., your unprecedented efforts and sacrifices in favour of my work, your touching love for me, and your marvelous faculty of making the impossible possible. I can see after the event quite clearly what a gigantic task you have undertaken and performed. How can I ever reward you? I should scarcely have anything to communicate to you beyond these exclamations of gratitude if I had not discovered in Herr von Zigesar's letter (received the day before yesterday, together with the honorarium) a certain disappointment—the disappointment involuntarily expressed by one who does not see his warmest zeal for a beloved cause crowned by the desired success, and who therefore assumes a certain pensive and doubtful attitude. Zigesar is doubtful whether the success of my opera is certain; he professes the warmest desire to work for that certainty with all his might, but appears to hesitate as to the best means for the purpose. Knowing that your zeal in the same cause is more active and energetic than that of any one else, I must turn to you alone in considering the means which may bring about our common desire.

So much is certain: that the performance has caused fatigue by the length of its duration. I confess I was horrorstruck when I heard that the opera had lasted until close upon eleven at night. When I had finished the opera, I timed it exactly, and according to my calculation the first act would last not much over an hour, the second an hour and a quarter, the third again a little more than an hour, so that, counting the entr'actes, I calculated the duration of the opera from six o'clock to a quarter to ten at the latest. I should have been doubtful whether you had taken the tempi according to my calculation if musical friends, well acquainted with the opera, had not assured me particularly that you had taken the tempi throughout as they knew them from me, and now and then rather a little quicker than slower. I must therefore assume that the dragging took place where you, as conductor, lost your immediate power, viz., in the recitatives. I have been assured that the recitatives were not attacked by the singers as I had performed them to my friends at the piano. Allow me to explain myself a little more particularly, and forgive my mistake of not having done so before.

Owing to the deplorable fact that at our German theatres scarcely anything but operas translated from a foreign language is given, our dramatic singers have been most thoroughly demoralized. The translations of French and Italian operas are generally made by blunderers, or at least scarcely ever by people who would be able to effect between the music and the translation a similar concordance to that which existed in the original version, as, for example, I tried to do in the most important parts of Gluck's "Iphigenia". The result has been in the course of time that the singers got into the way of neglecting altogether the connection between word and tone, of pronouncing an unimportant syllable to an accentuated note of the melody, and of putting the important word to a weak part of the bar. In this way they gradually became accustomed to the most absolute nonsense, to such an extent that it was frequently quite indifferent whether they pronounced at all or not. It is most amusing to hear German critics boast that only Germans understand dramatic music, while experience teaches that every bad Italian singer in the worst Italian opera declaims more naturally and expressively than the best Germans can do. The recitative has fared worst; in it singers have become accustomed to see only a certain conventional sequence of tonal phrases, which they can pull about and draw out according to their sweet will. When in opera the recitative commences, it means to them, "The Lord be praised, here is an end to that cursed tempo, which off and on compels us to a kind of rational rendering; we can now float about in all directions, dwell on any note we like until the prompter has supplied us with the next phrase; the conductor has now no power over us, and we can take revenge for his pretensions by commanding him to give us the beat when it suits us," etc. Although perhaps not all singers are conscious of this privilege of their genius, they, as a rule, involuntarily adopt this free-and-easy method, which confirms them in a certain natural laziness and flabbiness. A composer writing for German singers has therefore to take every care in opposing an artistic necessity to this lazy thoughtlessness. Nowhere in the score of my "Lohengrin" have I written above a vocal phrase the word "recitative;" the singers ought not to know that there are any recitatives in it; on the other hand, I have been intent upon weighing and indicating the verbal emphasis of speech so surely and so distinctly that the singers need only sing the notes, exactly according to their value in the given tempo, in order to get purely by that means the declamatory expression. I therefore request the singers particularly to sing all declamatory passages in my operas at first in strict tempo, as they are written. By pronouncing them throughout vividly and distinctly much is gained. If, proceeding from this basis with reasonable liberty and accelerating rather than holding back, they manage to obliterate the painful effect of the tempo altogether, and produce an emotional and poetic mode of speech, then all is gained.

Dingelstedt's sympathetic and clever notice of the performance of my "Lohengrin" has impressed me very much. He owns that previously he had known nothing by me, and chiefly attributes to this circumstance a certain puzzled feeling which the first performance of "Lohengrin" has produced in him. That puzzled feeling he transfers to the character of the work itself, speaking of numberless intentions crossing each other, with which he supplies me, but never guessing, as far as I can see, the only intention which guided me—I mean the simple and bare intention of the drama. He speaks of the impression which flutes, violins, kettledrums, and trumpets made on him, but nowhere of the dramatic representatives in whose stead, as he puts it, those instruments spoke. From this I conclude that at the performance the purely musical execution preponderated, that the orchestra— as connoisseurs have also told me—was excellent, and that friend Liszt, together with all that immediately depended on him, was the real hero of the performance. If we consider honestly and unselfishly the essence of music, we must own that it is in large measure a means to an end, that end being in rational opera the drama, which is most emphatically placed in the hands of the representatives on the stage. That these representatives disappeared for Dingelstedt, that in their stead he only heard the utterance of orchestral instruments, grieves me, for I see that, as regards fire and expression, the singers remained behind the support of the orchestra. I own that a singer supported by the orchestra in such a manner as is here the case must be of the very highest and best quality, and I fully believe that such singers could not easily be found in Weimar, and in Germany generally. But what is really the essential and principal thing here? Is it voice only? Surely not. It is life and fire, and in addition to that earnest endeavour and a strong and powerful will. In Dresden I made the experience with our best singers that, although they had the most laudable intentions and the greatest love for their tasks, they were unable to master a certain flabby laziness, which in our actual artistic muddle appears to be the characteristic trait of all our operatic heroes. I there caused all the remarks in the score of "Tannhauser" to be inserted in the parts of the singers with the utmost accuracy—I mean the remarks which had reference to the meaning of the situation and the dramatic action. At the performance I perceived with dismay that all these had remained unnoticed, and I had to see—imagine my horror!—for example, that my Tannhauser in the contest of the singers shouted the hymn of Venus—

"Wer dich mit Gluth in seine Arme geschlossen, Was Liebe ist, weiss der, nur der allein!"

at Elizabeth, the chastest of virgins, before a whole assembly of people. The only possible result could be that the public was, to say the least, confounded, and did not know what to make of it. Indeed, I heard at Dresden that the public became acquainted with the dramatic meaning of the opera only by reading the book in extenso; in other words, they understood the performance by disregarding the visible performance and making additions from their own imagination. Are your singers at Weimar more advanced than our famous people of Dresden? I think not. Probably they also will, in the first instance, be satisfied with getting over the difficulty of hitting the notes and committing their parts to memory, and on the stage they will at best take notice only of what the stage-manager tells them in the most general way. Genast, however, was always one of those artists who do not rely upon the stage-manager for the comprehension of their parts; he who has heard him and seen him knows so much. Being now a stage- manager himself, he probably thinks it unnecessary to play for the singers the schoolmaster, whom he, as a singer, never wanted. In this, however, he is mistaken; the present generation has run wild from its birth. I also can understand too well that, in his friendly zeal for my work, he remained entirely on the proper standpoint of the stage-manager, who arranges things in a general way, and justly leaves it to the individual actors to find out for themselves what concerns them only. In spite of this, I ask him now to interfere even there, where the power and the natural activity of the stage-manager ceases; let him be the trustee of infant actors. At the rehearsal of my "Tannhauser" in Weimar I had occasion to point out the neglect of some scenic indications on the part of individual singers. Elizabeth, for example, during the postlude of the duet with Tannhauser in the second act, has to justify the re-entry of the tender theme in the clarinet in slower tempo by looking—as is indicated in the score—after Tannhauser in the court of the castle and by beckoning to him. By neglecting this and merely standing in front, waiting for the conclusion of the music, she naturally produces an unbearable feeling of tedium. Every bar of dramatic music is justified only by the fact that it explains something in the action or in the character of the actor. That reminiscence of the clarinet theme is not there for its own sake as a purely musical effect, which Elizabeth might have to accompany by her action, but the beckoned greeting of Elizabeth is the chief thing I had in my eye, and that reminiscence I selected in order to accompany suitably this action of Elizabeth. The relations of music and action must therefore be deplorably perverted where, as in this instance, the principal thing—i.e., the dramatic motive—is left out, while the lesser thing—i.e., the accompaniment of that motive—alone remains. Of the performance of "Lohengrin" one fact has been related to me which, although it may appear of little consequence, must serve me to show how important, nay decisive, for a proper understanding such individual cases may be.

When I conceived and wrote the second act, it had not escaped me how important it would be for the proper mood of the spectator to show that Elsa's contentment at the last words of Lohengrin is not really complete and genuine; the public should feel that Elsa violently forces herself to conquer her doubt, and we should in reality fear that, having once indulged in brooding over Lohengrin, she will finally succumb and ask the prohibited question. In the production of this general feeling of fear lies the only necessity for a third act in which that fear is realized; without it the opera should end here, for the chief problem would not only have been mooted, but satisfactorily solved. In order to produce this feeling very distinctly and tangibly, I invented the following dramatic point: Elsa is led by Lohengrin up the steps on the minster; on the topmost step she looks downwards with timid apprehension; her eye involuntarily seeks Frederick, of whom she is still thinking; at that moment her glance falls on Ortrud, who stands below, and raises her hand in a threatening manner. At this moment I introduce in the orchestra in F minor ff. the warning of Lohengrin, the significance of which has by this time been distinctly impressed upon us, and which, accompanied by Ortrud's impressive gesture, here indicates with absolute certainty, "Whatever happens, you will disobey the command in spite of all." Elsa then turns away in terror, and only when the king, after this interruption, once more proceeds towards the entrance of the minster with the bridal pair, does the curtain drop. What a pity then that that dramatic point was not made on the stage, and that the curtain dropped before the entry of the reminiscence in F minor! This not unimportant mistake was, no doubt, caused by the probably accidental neglect of a remark in the full score which, according to my previous wish, should, like similar other remarks, have been extracted for the benefit of the actors. I must fear that several other things have also remained unnoticed and unexecuted, and nothing confirms me so much in this fear as the account of Dingelstedt, who, in spite of his unmistakable goodwill, has evidently not taken in my opera because of the music.

Dearest Liszt, was I right when in the preface of my "Kunstwerk der Zukunft" I wrote that not the individual, but the community alone, could create genuine works of art? You have done the impossible, but, believe me, all must nowadays do the impossible in order to achieve what is really possible. What delights me more than all is to hear that you have not lost courage, and are going to try everything in order to support the opera, in spite of a certain disappointment around you, and even to put it on its legs. To assist you in this most laudable zeal I give you the following advice: Let Genast, whom I cordially thank for his friendship, before the resumption of "Lohengrin", call the whole personnel to a reading rehearsal; let the singers read their parts in connection, distinctly and expressively, from the printed libretto, in which there are unfortunately many misprints. Let Genast take the score, and from the remarks therein inserted explain to the singers the meaning of the situations and their connection with the music bar by bar. The devil must be in it if the matter could not then be put right, provided the intentions of the actors are good. Once more, let Genast go beyond his position as stage-manager, which, no doubt, he fills as well as any one, and let him become the guardian of the infants and the neglected.

By these words I by no means wish to express a definite doubt as to your singers in general or their achievements in this particular case. The fact that in a purely musical sense they took such care of their parts that you ventured with them upon the performance of this enormously difficult, because unfamiliar music is an excellent testimony in their favour. In the above I asked them for something which perhaps they have never been asked for before. I hope Genast will find it worth his while to explain this most specially to them, and that he will succeed in making them do justice to my demand. In that case he may boast of having been the chief participant in a revolution which will lift our theatrical routine out of its grooves.

The representative of Lohengrin alone appears, according to all accounts, really incapable. Would it not be possible to make in this instance a change of persons? To my mind everybody ought to be glad when Lohengrin enters, instead of which it appears that people were more pleased when he left the stage. At this moment I receive your letter, assuring me of your joy and friendship. What good spirits you are in!

I will close this long letter, which must have bored you very much, by comprising all the single points I have mentioned to you in a final and weighty bundle of prayers.

1. Arrange by the intervention of Genast that before the second performance the singers have another rehearsal according to the above indications. Let no scenic remark remain unnoticed.

2. Insist firmly and sharply that the singers perform in decisive and lively tempo what they take to be recitatives in my opera. By this means the duration of the opera will, according to my experience, be shortened by nearly an hour.

3. Further, I desire that, with the exception of the second part of Lohengrin's tale, which I determined from the beginning to cut, my opera should be given as it is, without any omissions.

If cuts are made, the chain of comprehension will be torn asunder, and my style, which the public are only just beginning to take in, so far from being made more accessible, will be further removed from the public and the actors. To capitulate to the enemy is not to conquer; the enemy himself must surrender; and that enemy is the laziness and flabbiness of our actors, who must be forcibly driven to feel and think. If I do not gain the victory, and have to capitulate in spite of my powerful ally, I shall go into no further battles. If my "Lohengrin" can be preserved only by tearing its well-calculated and artistic context to pieces, in other words if it has to be cut owing to the laziness of the actors, I shall abandon opera altogether. Weimar in that case will have no more interest for me, and I shall have written my last opera. With you, dear Liszt, who have so bravely accepted my battle, it lies to gain a complete victory for me. I do not know what more I could say; to you I have said enough. To Genast, for whom also this letter is intended, I shall write separately as soon as I know that my demand has not offended him. To Zigesar I write tomorrow.

In the meantime I post this letter in order not to incur the reproach of delay.

Farewell, then, dearest, splendid friend. You are as good as refreshing summer rain. Farewell. Be thanked, and greet my friends.

Always your most obliged

RICHARD WAGNER

ZURICH, September 8th, 1850

One thing more: as you have no organ and no harmonium (physharmonika), I want you to let the short organ-passage at the end of the second act be played by wind instruments behind the scenes.

Lohengrin should sing the words "Heil dir, Elsa! nun lass vor Gott uns gehen!" with tender emotion.



42.

(TO HERR VON ZIGESAR.)

MOST ESTIMABLE HERR INTENDANT,

On my return from a little trip to the Alps, I find the copies of the libretto of "Lohengrin" which you have kindly sent to me, and have every reason to rejoice heartily at the remarkable care with which you have had it done. This is another ocular proof of the sympathy with which you have gone to work in everything concerning my last opera, and I must not omit to express my warmest thanks to you. Your last letter, in which you kindly enclosed the honorarium for my "Lohengrin," tells me of the success of all your extraordinary exertions for the performance of the opera, and I see with regret from your friendly communication that satisfaction, in the measure desired by you, has not been the result, and that a permanent success appears doubtful to you. As with this statement you combine no objection to the work itself, but, on the contrary, assure me that to the best of your intention and power you will try to secure that desired success for my opera, I feel bound to add to the expression of my gratitude for your kind feeling my opinion as to how our mutual wishes might be realized.

Most esteemed Herr Intendant, with full knowledge of the matter at stake, you have undertaken by its performance at your theatre to give life to a dramatic work the essence of which is that it is in all its parts a continuous whole, and not something incongruous, made up of many different parts. The author of this work does not wish to shine by the effect of single musical pieces; music to him is altogether no more than the most exalted and most comprehensive mode of expression of what he desired to express—the drama. Even where music became a mere ornament I remained conscious of having acted in accordance with a certain artistic necessity, and each necessary effect was brought about only by the fact that, like the link of a well-forged chain, it derived its significance from the preceding links. If this chain were torn asunder by the removal of the whole, or a half, or a quarter of a link, the whole context would be torn along with it, and my intention would be destroyed. You admitted to me yourself that in certain cases about which at first you had doubts you had been finally convinced of the necessity of this concatenation, but the impression made upon you by the performance has again renewed this doubt, to the extent, at least, that you think it advisable, in consideration of the public, to consent to certain omissions in my opera. Permit me to think a little better of the public. An audience which assembles in a fair mood is satisfied as soon as it distinctly understands what is going forward, and it is a great mistake to think that a theatrical audience must have a special knowledge of music in order to receive the right impression of a musical drama. To this entirely erroneous opinion we have been brought by the fact that in opera music has wrongly been made the aim, while the drama was merely a means for the display of the music. Music, on the contrary, should do no more than contribute its full share towards making the drama clearly and quickly comprehensible at every moment. While listening to a good—that is, rational—opera, people should, so to speak, not think of the music at all, but only feel it in an unconscious manner, while their fullest sympathy should be wholly occupied by the action represented. Every audience which has an uncorrupted sense and a human heart is therefore welcome to me as long as I may be certain that the dramatic action is made more immediately comprehensible and moving by the music, instead of being hidden by it. In this respect the performance of my "Lohengrin" at Weimar does not as yet seem to have been adequate, in so far as the purely musical part was much more perfect than the dramatic, properly so called, and the fault I attribute solely to the general state of our opera, which from the outset has the most confusing and damaging influence on all our singers. If during the performance of my "Lohengrin" the music only was noticed, yea almost only the orchestra, you may be sure that the actors remained far behind their task. Yesterday I wrote at length to my incomparable friend Liszt about this, and explained to him my views as to how the matter might be managed so as to place the performance in the right light. If in future the so-called recitatives are sung as I have asked Liszt to insist upon their being sung, the halting and freezing impression of whole, long passages will disappear, and the duration of the performance will be considerably shortened. If cuts were resorted to, you would gain comparatively little time, and would sacrifice to our modern theatrical routine every possibility of thorough reform. I can imagine, for instance, that the speeches of the king and the herald may have made a fatiguing impression, but if this was the case because the singers sang them in a lackadaisical, lazy, and slovenly manner, without real utterance, is then the interest of art benefited by curtailing or omitting these speeches? Surely not. Art and artists will be equally benefited only if those singers are earnestly requested to pronounce those speeches with energy, fire, and determined expression. Where no effect is made no impression can be produced, and where no impression is produced people are bored; but is it right, in order to shorten that boredom, to remove what with a proper expression would produce the necessary effect? In that case it would be better to drop the whole work, which, for want of proper expression, would be in danger of failing to produce the necessary effect. For if we yield in small and single things, if we make concessions to laziness and incompetence, we may be sure that we shall soon be obliged to do the same throughout; in other words, that we must give up every attempt at making a work like the present succeed. It appears to me preferable to find out with the utmost care where the real cause of the existing evil lies, and then to attack the enemy in his own camp with perseverance and power. You will see from this, most esteemed Herr Intendant, how important it is for me not to gain toleration for my Lohengrin by accommodating it to existing evils, but to secure for it a decisive success by making it conquer existing evils. Otherwise I confess openly that the future chances of this opera would have no value for me; in that case I should only regret the amount of exertion, trouble, and sympathy which you have kindly wasted on this work. Fame I do not seek, gain I had to renounce long ago, and if now I have at last to experience that even my most energetic friends and patrons think themselves obliged to make concessions for my benefit where a real victory can alone be of value, I shall lose every wish and every power to be further active in my art. If you can keep my "Lohengrin" going only by truncating its healthy organism, and not by operating to the best of your power on the diseased organism of our truncated operatic body, then I shall be cordially glad if you are rewarded for your pains according to circumstances, but I must ask you not to be angry with me if I look upon such a success with indifference. What to you is a matter of benevolence towards me is for me, unfortunately, a vital question of my whole mental existence in art, to which my being clings with bleeding fibres.