The Complete Opera Book Part 10

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that she is the woman who will save him by being faithful to him unto death. The girls about her spring up in terror and _Eric_, who has just entered the door and heard her outcry, hastens to her side. He brings news of the arrival of _Daland's_ vessel, and _Mary_ and the girls hasten forth to meet the sailors. _Senta_ wishes to follow, but _Eric_ restrains her and pleads his love for her in melodious measures. _Senta_, however, will not give him an answer at this time.

He then tells her of a dream he has had, in which he saw a weird vessel from which two men, one her father, the other a ghastly-looking stranger, made their way. Her he saw going to the stranger and entreating him for his regard.

_Senta_, worked up to the highest pitch of excitement by _Eric's_ words, now exclaims: "He seeks for me and I for him," and _Eric_, full of despair and horror, rushes away. _Senta_, after her outburst of excitement, remains again sunk in contemplation of the picture, softly repeating the measures of her romance. The door opens and the _Dutchman_ and _Daland_ appear. The _Dutchman_ is the first to enter.

_Senta_ turns from the picture to him, and, uttering a loud cry of wonder, remains standing as if transfixed without removing her eyes from the _Dutchman_. _Daland_, seeing that she does not greet him, comes up to her. She seizes his hand and after a hasty greeting asks him who the stranger is. _Daland_ tells her of the stranger's request, and leaves them alone. Then follows a duet for _Senta_ and the _Dutchman_, with its broad, smoothly-flowing melody and its many phrases of dramatic power, in which _Senta_ gives herself up unreservedly to the hero of her romantic attachment, _Daland_ finally entering and adding his congratulations to their betrothal. This scene closes the act.

The music of it re-echoes through the introduction of the next act and goes over into a vigorous sailors' chorus and dance. The scene shows a bay with a rocky sh.o.r.e. _Daland's_ house is in the foreground on one side, the background is occupied by his and the _Dutchman's_ ships, which lie near one another. The Norwegian ship is lighted up, and all the sailors are making merry on the deck. In strange contrast is the _Flying Dutchman's_ vessel. An unnatural darkness hangs over it and the stillness of death reigns aboard. The sailors and the girls in their merry-making call loudly toward the Dutch ship to join them, but no reply is heard from the weird vessel. Finally the sailors call louder and louder and taunt the crew of the other ship. Then suddenly the sea, which has been quite calm, begins to rise. The storm wind whistles through the cordage of the strange vessel, and as dark bluish flames flare up in the rigging, the weird crew show themselves, and sing a wild chorus, which strikes terror into all the merrymakers. The girls have fled, and the Norwegian sailors quit their deck, making the sign of the cross. The crew of the Flying Dutchman observing this, disappear with shrill laughter. Over their ship comes the stillness of death. Thick darkness is spread over it and the air and the sea become calm as before.

_Senta_ now comes with trembling steps out of the house. She is followed by _Eric_. He pleads with her and entreats her to remember his love for her, and speaks also of the encouragement which she once gave him. The _Dutchman_ has entered unperceived and has been listening. _Eric_ seeing him, at once recognizes the man of ghastly mien whom he saw in his vision. When the _Flying Dutchman_ bids her farewell, because he deems himself abandoned, and _Senta_ endeavours to follow him, _Eric_ holds her and summons others to his aid. But, in spite of all resistance, _Senta_ seeks to tear herself loose. Then it is that the _Flying Dutchman_ proclaims who he is and puts to sea.

_Senta_, however, freeing herself, rushes to a cliff overhanging the sea, and calling out,

"Praise thou thine angel for what he saith; Here stand I faithful, yea, to death,"

casts herself into the sea. Then occurs the concluding tableau, the work ending with the portion of the ballad which brought the overture and spinning scene to a close.

TANNHaUSER

UND DER SaNGERKRIEG AUF DEM WARTBURG

(AND THE SONG CONTEST AT THE WARTBURG)

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

Produced, Royal Opera, Dresden, October 19, 1845. Paris, Grand Opera, March 13, 1861. London, Covent Garden, May 6, 1876, in Italian; Her Majesty's Theatre, February 14, 1882, in English; Drury Lane, May 23, 1882, in German, under Hans Richter. New York, Stadt Theatre, April 4, 1859, and July, 1861, conducted by Carl Bergmann; under Adolff Neuendorff's direction, 1870, and, Academy of Music, 1877; Metropolitan Opera House, opening night of German Opera, under Dr.

Leopold Damrosch, November 17, 1884, with Seidl-Kraus as _Elizabeth_, Anna Slach as _Venus_, Schott as _Tannhauser_, Adolf Robinson as _Wolfram_, Josef Kogel as the _Landgrave_.

CHARACTERS

HERMANN, Landgrave of Thuringia _Ba.s.s_ TANNHaUSER } _Tenor_ WOLFRAM VON ESCHENBACH } _Baritone_ WALTER VON DER VOGELWEIDE } Knights and _Tenor_ BITEROLF } Minnesinger _Ba.s.s_ HEINRICH DER SCHREIBER } _Tenor_ REINMAR VON ZWETER } _Ba.s.s_ ELIZABETH, niece of the Landgrave _Soprano_ VENUS _Soprano_ A YOUNG SHEPHERD _Soprano_ FOUR n.o.bLE PAGES _Soprano and Alto_

n.o.bles, Knights, Ladies, elder and younger Pilgrims, Sirens, Naiads, Nymphs, Bacchantes.

_Time_--Early Thirteenth Century.

_Place_--Near Eisenach.

The story of "Tannhauser" is laid in and near the Wartburg, where, during the thirteenth century, the Landgraves of the Thuringian Valley held sway. They were lovers of art, especially of poetry and music, and at the Wartburg many peaceful contests between the famous minnesingers took place. Near this castle rises the Venusberg.

According to tradition the interior of this mountain was inhabited by Holda, the G.o.ddess of Spring, who, however, in time became identified with the G.o.ddess of Love. Her court was filled with nymphs and sirens, and it was her greatest joy to entice into the mountain the knights of the Wartburg and hold them captive to her beauty.

Among those whom she has thus lured into the rosy recesses of the Venusberg is _Tannhauser_.

In spite of her beauty, however, he is weary of her charms and longs for a glimpse of the world. He seems to have heard the tolling of bells and other earthly sounds, and these stimulate his yearning to be set free from the magic charms of the G.o.ddess.

In vain she prophesies evil to him should he return to the world. With the cry that his hope rests in the Virgin, he tears himself away from her. In one of the swiftest and most effective of scenic changes the court of _Venus_ disappears and in a moment we see _Tannhauser_ prostrate before a cross in a valley upon which the Wartburg peacefully looks down. _Pilgrims_ on their way to Rome pa.s.s him by and _Tannhauser_ thinks of joining them in order that at Rome he may obtain forgiveness for his crime in allowing himself to be enticed into the Venusberg. But at that moment the _Landgrave_ and a number of minnesingers on their return from the chase come upon him and, recognizing him, endeavour to persuade him to return to the Wartburg with them. Their pleas, however, are vain, until one of them, _Wolfram von Eschenbach_, tells him that since he has left the Wartburg a great sadness has come over the niece of the _Landgrave_, _Elizabeth_. It is evident that _Tannhauser_ has been in love with her, and that it is because of her beauty and virtue that he regrets so deeply having been lured into the Venusberg. For _Wolfram's_ words stir him profoundly.

To the great joy of all, he agrees to return to the Wartburg, the scene of his many triumphs as a minnesinger in the contests of song.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Copyright photo by Dupont

Farrar as Elizabeth in "Tannhauser"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Photo by Hall

"Tannhauser," Finale, Act II

Tannhauser (Maclennan), Elizabeth (Fornia), Wolfram (Dean)

The Landgrave (Cranston)]

The _Landgrave_, feeling sure that _Tannhauser_ will win the prize at the contest of song soon to be held, offers the hand of his niece to the winner. The minnesingers sing tamely of the beauty of virtuous love, but _Tannhauser_, suddenly remembering the seductive and magical beauties of the Venusberg, cannot control himself, and bursts out into a reckless hymn in praise of _Venus_. Horrified at his words, the knights draw their swords and would slay him, but _Elizabeth_ throws herself between him and them. Crushed and penitent, _Tannhauser_ stands behind her, and the _Landgrave_, moved by her willingness to sacrifice herself for her sinful lover, announces that he will be allowed to join a second band of pilgrims who are going to Rome and to plead with the Pope for forgiveness.

_Elizabeth_ prayerfully awaits his return; but, as she is kneeling by the crucifix in front of the Wartburg, the _Pilgrims_ pa.s.s her by and in the band she does not see her lover. Slowly and sadly she returns to the castle to die. When the _Pilgrims'_ voices have died away, and _Elizabeth_ has returned to the castle, leaving only _Wolfram_, who is also deeply enamoured of her, upon the scene, _Tannhauser_ appears, weary and dejected. He has sought to obtain forgiveness in vain. The Pope has cast him out forever, proclaiming that no more than that his staff can put forth leaves can he expect forgiveness. He has come back to re-enter the Venusberg. _Wolfram_ seeks to restrain him, but it is not until he invokes the name of _Elizabeth_ that _Tannhauser_ is saved. A cortege approaches, and, as _Tannhauser_ recognizes the form of _Elizabeth_ on the bier, he sinks down on her coffin and dies. Just then the second band of pilgrims arrive, bearing _Tannhauser's_ staff, which has put forth blossoms, thus showing that his sins have been forgiven.

From "The Flying Dutchman" to "Tannhauser," dramatically and musically, is, if anything, a greater stride than from "Rienzi" to "The Flying Dutchman." In each of his successive works Wagner demonstrates greater and deeper powers as a dramatic poet and composer. True it is that in nearly every one of them woman appears as the redeeming angel of sinful man, but the circ.u.mstances differ so that this beautiful tribute always interests us anew.

The overture of the opera has long been a favorite piece on concert programs. Like that of "The Flying Dutchman" it is the story of the whole opera told in music. It certainly is one of the most brilliant and effective pieces of orchestral music and its popularity is easily understood. It opens with the melody of the _Pilgrims'_ chorus, beginning softly as if coming from a distance and gradually increasing in power until it is heard in all its grandeur. At this point it is joined by a violently agitated accompaniment on the violins. This pa.s.sage evoked great criticism when it was first produced and for many years thereafter. It was thought to mar the beauty of the pilgrims'

chorus. But without doing so at all it conveys additional dramatic meaning, for these agitated phrases depict the restlessness of the world as compared with the grateful tranquillity of religious faith as set forth in the melody of the _Pilgrims'_ chorus.

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Having reached a climax, this chorus gradually dies away, and suddenly, and with intense dramatic contrast, we have all the seductive spells of the Venusberg displayed before us--that is, musically displayed; but then the music is so wonderfully vivid, it depicts with such marvellous clearness the many-coloured alluring scene at the court of the unholy G.o.ddess, it gives vent so freely to the sinful excitement which pervades the Venusberg, that we actually seem to see what we hear. This pa.s.ses over in turn to the impa.s.sioned burst of song in which _Tannhauser_ hymns Venus's praise, and immediately after we have the boisterous and vigorous music which accompanies the threatening action of the _Landgrave_ and minnesingers when they draw their swords upon _Tannhauser_ in order to take vengeance upon him for his crimes. Upon these three episodes of the drama, which so characteristically give insight into its plot and action, the overture is based, and it very naturally concludes with the _Pilgrims'_ chorus which seems to voice the final forgiveness of _Tannhauser_.

The curtain rises, disclosing all the seductive spells of the Venusberg. _Tannhauser_ lies in the arms of _Venus_, who reclines upon a flowery couch. Nymphs, sirens, and satyrs are dancing about them and in the distance are grottoes alive with amorous figures. Various mythological amours, such as that of Leda and the swan, are supposed to be in progress, but fortunately at a mitigating distance.

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Much of the music familiar from the overture is heard during this scene, but it gains in effect from the distant voices of the sirens and, of course, from artistic scenery and grouping and well-executed dances of the denizens of _Venus's_ court. Very dramatic, too, is the scene between _Venus_ and _Tannhauser_, when the latter sings his hymn in her praise, but at the same time proclaims that he desires to return to the world. In alluring strains she endeavours to tempt him to remain with her, but when she discovers that he is bound upon going, she vehemently warns him of the misfortunes which await him upon earth and prophesies that he will some day return to her and penitently ask to be taken back into her realm.

Dramatic and effective as this scene is in the original score, it has gained immensely in power by the additions which Wagner made for the production of the work in Paris, in 1861. The overture does not, in this version, come to a formal close, but after the manner of Wagner's later works, the transition is made directly from it to the scene of the Venusberg. The dances have been elaborated and laid out upon a more careful allegorical basis and the music of _Venus_ has been greatly strengthened from a dramatic point of view, so that now the scene in which she pleads with him to remain and afterwards warns him against the sorrows to which he will be exposed, are among the finest of Wagner's compositions, rivalling in dramatic power the ripest work in his music-dramas.

Wagner's knowledge of the stage is shown in the wonderfully dramatic effect in the change of scene from the Venusberg to the landscape in the valley of the Wartburg. One moment we have the variegated allures of the court of the G.o.ddess of Love, with its dancing nymphs, sirens, and satyrs, its beautiful grottoes and groups; the next all this has disappeared and from the heated atmosphere of _Venus's_ unholy rites we are suddenly transported to a peaceful scene whose influence upon us is deepened by the crucifix in the foreground, before which _Tannhauser_ kneels in penitence. The peacefulness of the scene is further enhanced by the appearance upon a rocky eminence to the left of a young _Shepherd_ who pipes a pastoral strain, while in the background are heard the tinkling of bells, as though his sheep were there grazing upon some upland meadow. Before he has finished piping his lay the voices of the _Pilgrims_ are heard in the distance, their solemn measures being interrupted by little phrases piped by the _Shepherd_. As the _Pilgrims_ approach, the chorus becomes louder, and as they pa.s.s over the stage and bow before the crucifix, their praise swells into an eloquent psalm of devotion.

_Tannhauser_ is deeply affected and gives way to his feelings in a lament, against which are heard the voices of the _Pilgrims_ as they recede in the distance. This whole scene is one of marvellous beauty, the contrast between it and the preceding episode being enhanced by the religiously tranquil nature of what transpires and of the accompanying music. Upon this peaceful scene the notes of hunting-horns now break in, and gradually the _Landgrave_ and his hunters gather about _Tannhauser_. _Wolfram_ recognizes him and tells the others who he is. They greet him in an expressive septette, and _Wolfram_, finding he is bent upon following the _Pilgrims_ to Rome, asks permission of the _Landgrave_ to inform him of the impression which he seems to have made upon _Elizabeth_. This he does in a melodious solo, and _Tannhauser_, overcome by his love for _Elizabeth_, consents to return to the halls which have missed him so long. Exclamations of joy greet his decision, and the act closes with an enthusiastic _ensemble_, which is a glorious piece of concerted music, and never fails of brilliant effect when it is well executed, especially if the representative of _Tannhauser_ has a voice that can soar above the others, which, unfortunately, is not always the case.

The accompanying scenic grouping should also be in keeping with the composer's instructions. The _Landgrave's_ suite should gradually arrive, bearing the game which has been slain, and horses and hunting-hounds should be led on the stage. Finally, the _Landgrave_ and minnesingers mount their steeds and ride away toward the castle.

The scene of the second act is laid in the singers' hall of the Wartburg. The introduction depicts _Elizabeth's_ joy at _Tannhauser's_ return, and when the curtain rises she at once enters and joyfully greets the scenes of _Tannhauser's_ former triumphs in broadly dramatic melodious phrases. _Wolfram_ then appears, conducting _Tannhauser_ to her. _Elizabeth_ seems overjoyed to see him, but then checks herself, and her maidenly modesty, which veils her transport at meeting him, again finds expression in a number of hesitating but exceedingly beautiful phrases. She asks _Tannhauser_ where he has been, but he, of course, gives misleading answers. Finally, however, he tells her she is the one who has attracted him back to the castle.

Their love finds expression in a swift and rapidly flowing dramatic duet, which unfortunately is rarely given in its entirety, although as a glorious outburst of emotional music it certainly deserves to be heard in the exact form and length in which the composer wrote it.

There is then a scene of much tender feeling between the _Landgrave_ and _Elizabeth_, in which the former tells her that he will offer her hand as prize to the singer whom she shall crown as winner. The first strains of the grand march are then heard. This is one of Wagner's most brilliant and effective orchestral and vocal pieces. Though in perfect march rhythm, it is not intended that the guests who a.s.sembled at the Wartburg shall enter like a company of soldiers. On the contrary, they arrive in irregular detachments, stride across the floor, and make their obeisance in a perfectly natural manner. After an address by the _Landgrave_, which can hardly be called remarkably interesting, the singers draw lots to decide who among them shall begin. This prize singing is, unfortunately, not so great in musical value as the rest of the score, and, unless a person understands the words, it is decidedly long drawn out. What, however, redeems it is a gradually growing dramatic excitement as _Tannhauser_ voices his contempt for what seem to him the tame tributes paid to love by the minnesingers, an excitement which reaches its climax when, no longer able to restrain himself, he bursts forth into his hymn in praise of the unholy charms of _Venus_.

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The women cry out in horror and rush from the hall as if the very atmosphere were tainted by his presence, and the men, drawing their swords, rush upon him. This brings us to the great dramatic moment, when, with a shriek, _Elizabeth_, in spite of his betrayal of her love, throws herself protectingly before him, and thus appears a second time as his saving angel. In short and excited phrases the men pour forth their wrath at _Tannhauser's_ crime in having sojourned with _Venus_, and he, realizing its enormity, seems crushed with a consciousness of his guilt. Of wondrous beauty is the septette, "An angel has from heaven descended," which rises to a magnificent climax and is one of the finest pieces of dramatic writing in Wagner's scores, although often execrably sung and rarely receiving complete justice. The voices of young _Pilgrims_ are heard in the valley. The _Landgrave_ then announces the conditions upon which _Tannhauser_ can again obtain forgiveness, and _Tannhauser_ joins the pilgrims on their way to Rome.

The third act displays once more the valley of the Wartburg, the same scene as that to which the Venusberg changed in the first act.

_Elizabeth_, arrayed in white, is kneeling, in deep prayer, before the crucifix. At one side, and watching her tenderly, stands _Wolfram_.

After a sad recitative from _Wolfram_, the chorus of returning _Pilgrims_ is heard in the distance. They sing the melody heard in the overture and in the first act; and the same effect of gradual approach is produced by a superb crescendo as they reach and cross the scene.

With almost piteous anxiety and grief _Elizabeth_ scans them closely as they go by, to see if _Tannhauser_ be among them, and when the last one has pa.s.sed and she realizes that he has not returned, she sinks again upon her knees before the crucifix and sings the prayer, "Almighty Virgin, hear my sorrow," music in which there is most beautifully combined the expression of poignant grief with trust in the will of the Almighty. As she rises and turns toward the castle, _Wolfram_, by his gesture, seems to ask her if he cannot accompany her, but she declines his offer and slowly goes her way up the mountain.