Chapter XXVII

In the "gallery," beside the marble statue of Tristan, stood a photograph framed in velvet which reproduced the features of a handsome, athletic young man, with an intensely ardent expression. I was very curious about this portrait, which always attracted my attention and held it irresistibly. One day I questioned the Master.

"Who is that young man?"

I saw him grow pale; his eyes filled with tears, and with a repressed sigh, he murmured,

"My poor Schnorr!"

Madam Cosima signed to me not to say anything more, and as soon as it was possible, she told me all about it.

"It is a photograph of Schnorr von Karolsfeld, 'the hero of song,' as Wagner called him--suddenly cut off by Death in the very fulness of triumphant life. Five years have passed since then, but the Master cannot console himself for the loss of this friend, this disciple, this marvellous interpreter of his work. He never thinks of him without a pang and, above all, he dreads to speak of him."

"Schnorr was the son of a celebrated painter, and had received a fine education. He was very gifted in all the arts, and by reason of one more rare and wonderful gift, that of an incomparable voice, he had been drawn toward music and the stage. From his first acquaintance with the works of Richard Wagner, Schnorr had comprehended and profoundly loved them. Despite the increasing celebrity of the young artist, the Master for a long time rather dreaded to see him because of what he had heard of his too great corpulence: he feared that this physical imperfection might prejudice and render him unjust to all his other qualities. So, because he was little skilled in concealing his impressions, he avoided being brought in contact with the interpreter of his works. It was, therefore, with great secrecy that he went one evening to Karlsruhe (where Schnorr was engaged for a representation of _Lohengrin_) and entered the theatre without being recognised.

"Later, the Master himself told the story of that wonderful evening.

"'All my apprehensions very soon disappeared. It is true that the first appearance of the Knight of the Swan as he drew near to the shore, looking like a young Hercules, made a rather strange impression upon me, but this disappeared as the hero advanced. The peculiar charm of the messenger from God works instantly. Of this character one did not ask, "Who is he?" but said, "It is he."

"'Truly, this sudden and profound impression can only be compared to a kind of enchantment. I remember having felt this very decidedly when I was a boy, concerning the great Schroeder-Devrient. I have never experienced it since so strongly, so decisively as at the entrance of Ludwig Schnorr in _Lohengrin_. While I recognised, in the course of his interpretation, that in many ways his understanding and rendering of my work had not yet attained maturity, yet even in that I saw the charm of a youthful purity still untouched, of a virgin soil that promised to bring forth flowers of great artistic perfection. The fervour, the tender exaltation that burned in the marvellously love-filled eyes of this very young man, made me feel vaguely how ill-omened might be the fire by which they were enkindled. Very soon I discovered in him a being who, by the very reason of his unlimited gifts, inspired in me a tragic pity.'

"The meeting between the Master and the disciple was cordial and touching. And what a glad surprise for the creator of _Tristan and Isolde_, to discover that Schnorr, filled with enthusiasm for this work, reputed to be unsingable, had made himself thoroughly acquainted with it, and knew the _rôle_ of Tristan from one end to the other! Nevertheless, he had hesitated to sing it, all because of a passage in the Third Act. He did not quite comprehend what ought to be the musical expression of this especial passage, which he judged to be one of the highest importance.

"This unselfish scruple gave Wagner one of the vivid surprises of his life. Could it be possible that a tenor acclaimed by all should have so little vanity and be so nobly conscious of his artistic mission? Could he so mistrust himself and, in spite of his experience and his pre-eminence, believe himself incapable of interpreting a rôle because he did not entirely comprehend the exact expression of a single passage in so complicated a work? And the idea of cutting out this phrase, the first that would have occurred to any other singer, had not even suggested itself to this rare soul.

"The passage in question, in the Third Act of _Tristan_, runs as follows:

'Aus Vaters Noth und Mutter Weh,
Aus Liebes-thränen eh' und je,
Aus Lachen und Weinen, Wonnen und Wunden,
Hab' ich des Trankes Gifte gefunden!

Den ich gebraut, der mir geflossen,
Den Wonne Schlürfend je ich genossen,
Verflucht sei furchtbarer Trank,
Verflucht wer dich gebraut!'

"It is a climax in that delirious raving of Tristan separated from Isolde, that frenzied longing which only found relief in unconsciousness.

"The Master explained certain things to Schnorr; especially he gave him the idea of a wider, less rapid, movement, which suddenly cleared all that had been obscure to the young artist, who showed at once that he had understood by interpreting the passage in a way that was without a fault.

"'Who can measure the extent of the hopes that thrilled me at the moment when such a singer came into my life!'

"Such was Wagner's cry of gratitude. And from that day he made every effort to obtain a representation of _Tristan_, with the co-operation of Schnorr.

"There were still many years before this beautiful dream was realised, and then it came to pass through the intervention of the royal friend, the archangel so miraculously sent, whose flaming sword reduced all obstacles to ashes and made free the path toward the ideal.

"These first representations of _Tristan_ at Munich were among the most memorable of artistic events. Those who had the good fortune to take part in them preserved a splendid memory and a nostalgic longing. So great a work produced with such perfection and, during the rehearsals, such complete harmony between the Master and the interpreter!

"To quote the Master's own words:

"'The clumsiest of would-be musicians, singer or instrumentalist, would never have accepted from me such minute instructions as did that hero of song, who, without effort, arrived at such a mastery. Any indication of mine upon which I laid the slightest stress he accepted and acted on with cheerful promptness, grasping the reason for it at once, and in such a way that I should have felt that I had failed in my duty if, through fear of wounding his feelings, I had withheld my suggestion, however minute it might be. The reason for this disposition on the part of my friend is that the ideal comprehension of my work had come to him quite spontaneously; he absorbed my ideas so naturally that not the slenderest thread of the spiritual woof, not the slightest allusion to the most obscure harmonies escaped him; he felt them all in a very subtle way.'

"'So nothing remained for him but to select as rigorously as possible the technical methods of expression for the singer, the musician, and the actor that would best secure a perfect harmony between the personal gifts of the artist in their particular effect and the ideal object of the interpretation. All who were present at those studies will be able to testify that they never before witnessed such an amicable and artistic understanding. Having explained to him the one passage which he had not comprehended I never had any further talk with Schnorr about the Third Act of _Tristan_, After paying the closest attention to the rehearsals of the First and Second Acts, when the Third Act commenced I involuntarily turned away from the hero, wounded unto death, and, sitting motionless upon my chair with my eyes half-closed, became completely absorbed in the music. As I never turned toward him during this tremendous scene even at his most impassioned utterances, Schnorr appeared to have been abashed by my long silence and seeming indifference; but when, after the malediction of love, I finally got up and going unsteadily to this wonderful friend, who still remained prostrate on his couch, I leaned over him and, embracing him vehemently, said to him in a subdued voice that I had no criticism to make, that from this time forth my own ideal would be consummately revealed by him, then his sombre eyes sparkled like the star of love; there was one hardly perceptible sob, and from that time no other word ever passed between us on the subject of this Third Act.'

"The days of these representations and the dress rehearsal before the King were, without doubt, for Wagner the culminating point in his destiny as composer: they included those ineffable hours that repay for a whole lifetime of efforts, of disappointments, of miseries--his 'ideal realised,' the splendour of his genius shining before his own eyes and penetrating his very being with a glorious certainty.

"And what a magnificent trinity, Richard Wagner, Ludwig II. and the incarnation of Tristan! What a noble joy animated them all! 'How I bless those hours!' cried Schnorr, in a burst of enthusiasm. 'O Master, with your help and the help of this divine king, I also must accomplish something great and glorious!'

"A most unusual interruption brought this splendid manifestation of art to an unforeseen conclusion after the fourth representation. From the first, Wagner had felt for Schnorr's prodigious achievement an astonishment full of respect, which increased to dread and finally became an actual terror. It was unbelievable that the singer could repeat this performance day after day, after the custom of the theatre. The Master felt that it would be a crime, and he therefore declared that this fourth representation of _Tristan_ should be the last; that he would not permit another. So the work was not given again.

"'I feel that I have no right to inflict such a condition of trouble upon a human being,' said Wagner.

"It was not a question of physical fatigue--Schnorr did not experience any: but to live Tristan, to burn with his passions, to suffer his agonies, to thrill with his ecstasies, to die his death!--such superhuman exaltation, such emotion and fever of the soul, all this the Master could not permit again. So the success was interrupted, the big receipts were cut off, for such secondary considerations as these did not concern those generous minds for an instant.

"Then a very great project began to take shape in Wagner's brain.

"'With the certainty of the unspeakable importance of Schnorr for my musical creations, a new springtide of hope entered into my life. The medium was at last found through which my creative power could link itself to the present. The moment was come in which to teach and to make clear. That which had been universally misunderstood, denounced as unplayable, mocked at, covered with contempt, was about to be proved an undeniable artistic reality. To create a German style for representing works of German genius--this was our watchword. And with this consoling hope I found it easier to oppose, for the time, any further productions of _Tristan_. This work and these representations were so different from the usual performances that they would necessitate too sudden a leap into the unknown; the precipices and chasms yawning before it must be approached deliberately. We must begin by carefully roofing them over, by paving the way toward ourselves, the isolated artists, up to our summit, for those associates that were indispensable to us. So then, Schnorr being ours, it was determined to found a Royal College of Music and Dramatic Art.'

"Alas! how many obstacles, how many fresh struggles, and before the work could be achieved, how cruel the death that struck down the hero, in the fulness of youth, in the fulness of beauty!"

And now, when in the gallery I pass before the superb likeness of Schnorr von Karolsfeld, I in my turn feel my heart contract, and I stifle a cry of anger, of revolt, against so blind and imbecile a destiny.