The theory evolved by Wagner was that the lyric stage should present not a series of melodies for voice upon a mere framework of plot and versified story, but a serious work of dramatic art, the music to which should, both vocally and instrumentally, express the ever varying development of the drama. With this end in view he invented a melodious recitative which only at certain great crises in the progress of the action--such as the love-climax, the gathering at the Valkyr Rock, the "Farewell," and the "Magic Fire" scenes in "The Valkyr"; the meeting of _Siegfried_ and _Brunnhilde_ in "Siegfried"; the love duet and "Love-Death" in "Tristan"--swells into prolonged melody. Note that I say prolonged melody. For besides these prolonged melodies, there is almost constant melody, besides marvellous orchestral colour, in the weft and woof of the recitative. This is produced by the artistic use of leading motives, every leading motive being a brief, but expressive, melody--so brief that, to one coming to Wagner without previous study or experience, the melodious quality of his recitative is not appreciated at first. After a while, however, the hearer begins to recognize certain brief, but melodious and musically eloquent phrases--leading motives--as belonging to certain characters in the drama or to certain influences potent in its development, such as hate, love, jealousy, the desire for revenge, etc. Often to express a combination of circ.u.mstances, influences, pa.s.sions, or personal actions, these leading motives, these brief melodious phrases, are combined with a skill that is unprecedented; or the voice may express one, while the orchestra combines with it in another.

To enable the orchestra to follow these constantly changing phases in the evolution and development of the drama, and often to give utterance to them separately, it was necessary for Wagner to have most intimate knowledge of the individual tone quality and characteristics of every instrument in the orchestra, and this mastery of what I may call instrumental personality he possessed to a hitherto undreamed-of degree. Nor has anyone since equalled him in it. The result is a choice and variety of instrumentation which in itself is almost an equivalent for dramatic action and enables the orchestra to adapt itself with unerring accuracy to the varying phases of the drama.

Consider that, when Wagner first projected his theory of the music-drama, singers were accustomed in opera to step into the limelight and, standing there, deliver themselves of set melodies, acknowledge applause and give as many encores as were called for, in fact were "it," while the real creative thing, the opera, was but secondary, and it is easy to comprehend the opposition which his works aroused among the personnel of the lyric stage; for music-drama demands a singer's absorption not only in the music but also in the action. A Wagner music-drama requires great singers, but the singers no longer absorb everything. They are part--a most important part, it is true--of a performance, in which the drama itself, the orchestra, and the stage pictures are also of great importance. A performance of a Wagner music-drama, to be effective, must be a well-rounded, eloquent whole. The drama must be well acted from a purely dramatic point of view. It must be well sung from a purely vocal point of view.

It must be well interpreted from a purely orchestral point of view. It must be well produced from a purely stage point of view. For all these elements go hand in hand. It is, of course, well known that Wagner was the author of his own librettos and showed himself a dramatist of the highest order for the lyric stage.

While his music-dramas at first aroused great opposition among operatic artists, growing familiarity with them caused these artists to change their view. The interpretation of a Wagner character was discovered to be a combined intellectual and emotional task which slowly, but surely, appealed more and more to the great singers of the lyric stage. They derived a new dignity and satisfaction from their work, especially as audiences also began to realize that, instead of mere entertainment, performances of Wagner music-dramas were experiences that both stirred the emotions to their depths and appealed to the intellect as well. To this day Lilli Lehmann is regarded by all, who had the good fortune to hear her at the Metropolitan Opera House, as the greatest prima donna and the most dignified figure in the history of the lyric stage in this country; for on the lyric stage the interpretation of the great characters in Wagnerian music-drama already had come to be regarded as equal to the interpretation of the great Shakespearian characters on the dramatic.

Wagner's genius was so supreme that, although he has been dead thirty-four years, he is still without a successor. Through the force of his own genius he appears destined to remain the sole exponent of the art form of which he was the creator. But his influence is still potent. This we discover not only in the enrichment of the orchestral accompaniment in opera, but in the banishment of senseless vocal embellishment, in the search for true dramatic expression and, in general, in the greater seriousness with which opera is taken as an art. Even the minor point of lowering the lights in the auditorium during a performance, so as to concentrate attention upon the stage, is due to him; and even the older Italian operas are now given with an attention to detail, scenic setting, and an endeavour to bring out their dramatic effects, quite unheard of before his day. He was, indeed, a reformer of the lyric stage whose influence long will be potent "all along the line."

RIENZI, DER LETZTE DER TRIBUNEN

RIENZI, THE LAST OF THE TRIBUNES

Opera in five acts. Words and music by Wagner. Produced, Dresden, October 20, 1842. London, Her Majesty's Theatre, April 16, 1869. New York, Academy of Music, 1878, with Charles R. Adams, as _Rienzi_, Pappenheim as _Adriano_; Metropolitan Opera House, February 5, 1886, with Sylva as _Rienzi_, Lehmann as _Irene_, Brandt as _Adriano_, Fischer as _Colonna_.

CHARACTERS

COLA RIENZI, Roman Tribune and Papal Notary _Tenor_ IRENE, his sister _Soprano_ STEFFANO COLONNA _Ba.s.s_ ADRIANO, his son _Mezzo-Soprano_ PAOLO ORSINO _Ba.s.s_ RAIMONDO, Papal Legate _Ba.s.s_ BARONCELLO } { _Tenor_ CECCO DEL VECCHIO } Roman citizens { _Ba.s.s_ MESSENGER OF PEACE _Soprano_

Amba.s.sadors, n.o.bles, Priests, Monks, Soldiers, Messengers, and Populace in General.

_Time_--Middle of the Fourteenth Century.

_Place_--Rome.

_Orsino_, a Roman patrician, attempts to abduct _Irene_, the sister of _Rienzi_, a papal notary, but is opposed at the critical moment by _Colonna_, another patrician. A fight ensues between the two factions, in the midst of which _Adriano_, the son of _Colonna_, who is in love with _Irene_, appears to defend her. A crowd is attracted by the tumult, and among others _Rienzi_ comes upon the scene. Enraged at the insult offered his sister, and stirred on by _Cardinal Raimondo_, he urges the people to resist the outrages of the n.o.bles. _Adriano_ is impelled by his love for _Irene_ to cast his lot with her brother. The n.o.bles are overpowered, and appear at the capitol to swear allegiance to _Rienzi_, but during the festal proceedings _Adriano_ warns him that the n.o.bles have plotted to kill him. An attempt which _Orsino_ makes upon him with a dagger is frustrated by a steel breastplate which _Rienzi_ wears under his robe.

The n.o.bles are seized and condemned to death, but on _Adriano's_ pleading they are spared. They, however, violate their oath of submission, and the people again under _Rienzi's_ leadership rise and exterminate them, _Adriano_ having pleaded in vain. In the end the people prove fickle. The popular tide turns against _Rienzi_, especially in consequence of the report that he is in league with the German emperor, and intends to restore the Roman pontiff to power. As a festive procession is escorting him to church, _Adriano_ rushes upon him with a drawn dagger, being infuriated at the slaughter of his family, but the blow is averted. Instead of the "Te Deum," however, with which _Rienzi_ expected to be greeted on his entrance to the church, he hears the malediction and sees the ecclesiastical dignitaries placing the ban of excommunication against him upon the doors. _Adriano_ hurries to _Irene_ to warn her of her brother's danger, and urges her to seek safety with him in flight. She, however, repels him, and seeks her brother, determined to die with him, if need be. She finds him at prayer in the capitol, but rejects his counsel to save herself with _Adriano_. _Rienzi_ appeals to the infuriated populace which has gathered around the capitol, but they do not heed him. They fire the capitol with their torches, and hurl stones at _Rienzi_ and _Irene_. As _Adriano_ sees his beloved one and her brother doomed to death in the flames, he throws away his sword, rushes into the capitol, and perishes with them.

The overture of "Rienzi" gives a vivid idea of the action of the opera. Soon after the beginning there is heard the broad and stately melody of _Rienzi's_ prayer, and then the Rienzi Motive, a typical phrase, which is used with great effect later in the opera. It is followed in the overture by the lively melody heard in the concluding portion of the finale of the second act. These are the three most conspicuous portions of the overture, in which there are, however, numerous tumultuous pa.s.sages reflecting the dramatic excitement which pervades many scenes.

The opening of the first act is full of animation, the orchestra depicting the tumult which prevails during the struggle between the n.o.bles. _Rienzi's_ brief recitative is a masterpiece of declamatory music, and his call to arms is spirited. It is followed by a trio between _Irene_, _Rienzi_, and _Adriano_, and this in turn by a duet for the two last-named which is full of fire. The finale opens with a double chorus for the populace and the monks in the Lateran, accompanied by the organ. Then there is a broad and energetic appeal to the people from _Rienzi_, and amid the shouts of the populace and the ringing tones of the trumpets the act closes.

The insurrection of the people against the n.o.bles is successful, and _Rienzi_, in the second act, awaits at the capitol the patricians who are to pledge him their submission. The act opens with a broad and stately march, to which the messengers of peace enter. They sing a graceful chorus. This is followed by a chorus for the senators, and the n.o.bles then tender their submission. There is a terzetto, between _Adriano_, _Colonna_, and _Orsino_, in which the n.o.bles express their contempt for the young patrician. The finale which then begins is highly spectacular. There is a march for the amba.s.sadors, and a grand ballet, historical in character, and supposed to be symbolical of the triumphs of ancient Rome. In the midst of this occurs the a.s.sault upon _Rienzi_. _Rienzi's_ pardon of the n.o.bles is conveyed in a broadly beautiful melody, and this is succeeded by the animated pa.s.sage heard in the overture. With it are mingled the chants of the monks, the shouts of the people who are opposed to the cardinal and n.o.bles, and the tolling of bells.

The third act opens tumultuously. The people have been aroused by fresh outrages on the part of the n.o.bles. _Rienzi's_ emissaries disperse, after a furious chorus, to rouse the populace to vengeance.

After they have left, _Adriano_ has his great air, a number which can never fail of effect when sung with all the expression of which it is capable. The rest of the act is a grand acc.u.mulation of martial music or noise, whichever one chooses to call it, and includes the stupendous battle hymn, which is accompanied by the clashing of sword and shields, the ringing of bells, and all the tumult incidental to a riot. After _Adriano_ has pleaded in vain with _Rienzi_ for the n.o.bles, and the various bands of armed citizens have dispersed, there is a duet between _Adriano_ and _Irene_, in which _Adriano_ takes farewell of her. The victorious populace appears and the act closes with their triumphant shouts. The fourth act is brief, and beyond the description given in the synopsis of the plot, requires no further comment.

The fifth act opens with the beautiful prayer of _Rienzi_, already familiar from the overture. There is a tender duet between _Rienzi_ and _Irene_, an impa.s.sioned aria for _Rienzi_, a duet for _Irene_ and _Adriano_, and then the finale, which is chiefly choral.

DER FLIEGENDE HOLLaNDER

THE FLYING DUTCHMAN

Opera in three acts, words and music by Richard Wagner.

Produced, Royal Opera, Dresden, January 2, 1843. London, July 23, 1870, as "L'Olandese Dannato"; October 3, 1876, by Carl Rosa, in English. New York, Academy of Music, January 26, 1877, in English, with Clara Louise Kellogg; March 12, 1877, in German; in the spring of 1883, in Italian, with Albani, Gala.s.si, and Ravelli.

CHARACTERS

DALAND, a Norwegian sea captain _Ba.s.s_ SENTA, his daughter _Soprano_ ERIC, a huntsman _Tenor_ MARY, SENTA'S nurse _Contralto_ DALAND'S Steersman _Tenor_ THE DUTCHMAN _Baritone_

Sailors, Maidens, Hunters, etc.

_Time_--Eighteenth Century.

_Place_--A Norwegian Fishing Village.

From "Rienzi" Wagner took a great stride to "The Flying Dutchman."

This is the first milestone on the road from opera to music-drama. Of his "Rienzi" the composer was in after years ashamed, writing to Liszt: "I, as an artist and man, have not the heart for the reconstruction of that, to my taste, superannuated work, which in consequence of its immoderate dimensions, I have had to remodel more than once. I have no longer the heart for it, and desire from all my soul to do something new instead." He spoke of it as a youthful error, but in "The Flying Dutchman" there is little, if anything, which could have troubled his artistic conscience.

One can hardly imagine the legend more effective dramatically and musically than it is in Wagner's libretto and score. It is a work of wild and sombre beauty, relieved only occasionally by touches of light and grace, and has all the interest attaching to a work in which for the first time a genius feels himself conscious of his greatness. If it is not as impressive as "Tannhauser" or "Lohengrin," nor as stupendous as the music-dramas, that is because the subject of the work is lighter. As his genius developed, his choice of subjects and his treatment of them pa.s.sed through as complete an evolution as his musical theory, so that when he finally abandoned the operatic form and adopted his system of leading motives, he conceived, for the dramatic bases of his scores, dramas which it would be difficult to fancy set to any other music than that which is so characteristic in his music-dramas.

Wagner's present libretto is based upon the weirdly picturesque legend of "The Flying Dutchman"--the Wandering Jew of the ocean. A Dutch sea captain, who, we are told, tried to double the Cape of Good Hope in the teeth of a furious gale, swore that he would accomplish his purpose even if he kept on sailing forever. The devil, hearing the oath, condemned the captain to sail the sea until Judgment Day, without hope of release, unless he should find a woman who would love him faithfully unto death. Once in every seven years he is allowed to go ash.o.r.e in search of a woman who will redeem him through her faithful love.

The opera opens just as a term of seven years has elapsed. The _Dutchman's_ ship comes to anchor in a bay of the coast of Norway, in which the ship of _Daland_, a Norwegian sea captain, has sought shelter from the storm. _Daland's_ home is not far from the bay, and the _Dutchman_, learning he has a daughter, asks permission to woo her, offering him in return all his treasures. _Daland_ readily consents. His daughter, _Senta_, is a romantic maiden upon whom the legend of "The Flying Dutchman" has made a deep impression. As _Daland_ ushers the _Dutchman_ into his home _Senta_ is gazing dreamily upon a picture representing the unhappy hero of the legend.

The resemblance of the stranger to the face in this picture is so striking that the emotional girl is at once attracted to him, and pledges him her faith, deeming it her mission to save him. Later on, _Eric_, a young huntsman, who is in love with her, pleads his cause with her, and the _Dutchman_, overhearing them, and thinking himself again forsaken, rushes off to his vessel. _Senta_ cries out that she is faithful to him, but is held back by _Eric_, _Daland_, and her friends. The _Dutchman_, who really loves _Senta_, then proclaims who he is, thinking to terrify her, and at once puts to sea. But she, undismayed by his words, and truly faithful unto death, breaks away from those who are holding her, and rushing to the edge of a cliff casts herself into the ocean, with her arms outstretched toward him.

The phantom ship sinks, the sea rises high and falls back into a seething whirlpool. In the sunset glow the forms of _Senta_ and the _Dutchman_ are seen rising in each other's embrace from the sea and floating upward.

In "The Flying Dutchman" Wagner employs several leading motives, not, indeed, with the skill which he displays in his music-dramas, but with considerably greater freedom of treatment than in "Rienzi." There we had but one leading motive, which never varied in form. The overture, which may be said to be an eloquent and beautiful musical narrative of the whole opera, contains all these leading motives. It opens with a stormy pa.s.sage, out of which there bursts the strong but sombre Motive of the Flying Dutchman himself, the dark hero of the legend. The orchestra fairly seethes and rages like the sea roaring under the lash of a terrific storm. And through all this furious orchestration there is heard again and again the motive of the _Dutchman_, as if his figure could be seen amid all the gloom and fury of the elements.

There he stands, hoping for death, yet indestructible. As the excited music gradually dies away, there is heard a calm, somewhat undulating phrase which occurs in the opera when the _Dutchman's_ vessel puts into the quiet Norwegian harbour. Then, also, there occurs again the motive of the _Dutchman_, but this time played softly, as if the storm-driven wretch had at last found a moment's peace.

We at once recognize to whom it is due that he has found this moment of repose, for we hear like prophetic measures the strains of the beautiful ballad which is sung by _Senta_ in the second act of the opera, in which she relates the legend of "The Flying Dutchman" and tells of his unhappy fate. She is the one whom he is to meet when he goes ash.o.r.e. The entire ballad is not heard at this point, only the opening of the second part, which may be taken as indicating in this overture the simplicity and beauty of _Senta's_ character. In fact, it would not be too much to call this opening phrase the Senta Motive. It is followed by the phrase which indicates the coming to anchor of the _Dutchman's_ vessel; then we hear the Motive of the Dutchman himself, dying away with the faintest possible effect. With sudden energy the orchestra dashes into the surging ocean music, introducing this time the wild, pathetic plaint sung by the _Dutchman_ in the first act of the opera. Again we hear his motive, and again the music seems to represent the surging, swirling ocean when aroused by a furious tempest. Even when we hear the measures of the sailors' chorus the orchestra continues its furious pace, making it appear as if the sailors were shouting above the storm.

Characteristic in this overture, and also throughout the opera, especially in _Senta's_ ballad, is what may be called the Ocean Motive, which most graphically depicts the wild and terrible aspect of the ocean during a storm. It is varied from time to time, but never loses its characteristic force and weirdness. The overture ends with an impa.s.sioned burst of melody based upon a portion of the concluding phrases of _Senta's_ ballad; phrases which we hear once more at the end of the opera when she sacrifices herself in order to save her lover.

A wild and stormy scene is disclosed when the curtain rises upon the first act. The sea occupies the greater part of the scene, and stretches itself out far toward the horizon. A storm is raging.

_Daland's_ ship has sought shelter in a little cove formed by the cliffs. Sailors are employed in furling sails and coiling ropes.

_Daland_ is standing on a rock, looking about him to discover in what place they are. The orchestra, chiefly with the wild ocean music heard in the overture, depicts the raging of the storm, and above it are heard the shouts of the sailors at work: "Ho-jo-he! Hal-lo-jo!"

_Daland_ discovers that they have missed their port by seven miles on account of the storm, and deplores his bad luck that when so near his home and his beloved child, he should have been driven out of his course. As the storm seems to be abating the sailors descend into the hold and _Daland_ goes down into the cabin to rest, leaving his steersman in charge of the deck. The steersman walks the deck once or twice and then sits down near the rudder, yawning, and then rousing himself as if sleep were coming over him. As if to force himself to remain awake he intones a sailor song, an exquisite little melody, with a dash of the sea in its undulating measures. He intones the second verse, but sleep overcomes him and the phrases become more and more detached, until at last he falls asleep.

The storm begins to rage again and it grows darker. Suddenly the ship of the _Flying Dutchman_, with blood-red sails and black mast, looms up in the distance. She glides over the waves as if she did not feel the storm at all, and quickly enters the harbour over against the ship of the Norwegian; then silently and without the least noise the spectral crew furl the sails. The _Dutchman_ goes on sh.o.r.e.

Here now occur the weird, dramatic recitative and aria: "The term is pa.s.sed, and once again are ended seven long years." As the _Dutchman_ leans in brooding silence against a rock in the foreground, _Daland_ comes out of the cabin and observes the ship. He rouses the steersman, who begins singing again a phrase of his song, until _Daland_ points out the strange vessel to him, when he springs up and hails her through a speaking trumpet. _Daland_, however, perceives the _Dutchman_ and going ash.o.r.e questions him. It is then that the _Dutchman_, after relating a mariner's story of ill luck and disaster, asks _Daland_ to take him to his home and allow him to woo his daughter, offering him his treasures. At this point we have a graceful and pretty duet, _Daland_ readily consenting that the _Dutchman_ accompany him. The storm having subsided and the wind being fair, the crews of the vessels hoist sail to leave port, _Daland's_ vessel disappearing just as the _Dutchman_ goes on board his ship.

After an introduction in which we hear a portion of the steersman's song, and also that phrase which denotes the appearance of the _Dutchman's_ vessel in the harbour, the curtain rises upon a room in _Daland's_ house. On the walls are pictures of vessels, charts, and on the farther wall the portrait of a pale man with a dark beard.

_Senta_, leaning back in an armchair, is absorbed in dreamy contemplation of the portrait. Her old nurse, _Mary_, and her young friends are sitting in various parts of the room, spinning. Here we have that charming musical number famous all the musical world over, perhaps largely through Liszt's admirable piano arrangement of it, the "Spinning Chorus." For graceful and engaging beauty it cannot be surpa.s.sed, and may be cited as a striking instance of Wagner's gift of melody, should anybody at this late day be foolish enough to require proof of his genius in that respect. The girls tease _Senta_ for gazing so dreamily at the portrait of the _Flying Dutchman_, and finally ask her if she will not sing his ballad.

This ballad is a masterpiece of composition, vocally and instrumentally, being melodious as well as descriptive. It begins with the storm music familiar from the overture, and with the weird measures of the Flying Dutchman's Motive, which sound like a voice calling in distress across the sea.

[Music]

_Senta_ repeats the measures of this motive, and then we have the simple phrases beginning: "A ship the restless ocean sweeps."

Throughout this portion of the ballad the orchestra depicts the surging and heaving of the ocean, _Senta's_ voice ringing out dramatically above the accompaniment. She then tells how he can be delivered from his curse, this portion being set to the measures which were heard in the overture, _Senta_ finally proclaiming, in the broadly delivered, yet rapturous phrases with which the overture ends,