Chapter XXV

This morning, Richard Wagner received a letter from the celebrated Pasdeloup....

It will be remembered, perhaps, that at this time, Pasdeloup had been director of the Theatre Lyrique for rather more than a year. He had, as a matter of course, produced at his theatre, first of all, one of Wagner's operas, and as he intended to play them all in succession he had begun with _Rienzi_, the first as to date. The work had been brilliantly mounted and well received, and the tenor, Monjauze, really remarkable in the rôle of the Tribune, had had a very decided success.

In his letter of to-day, Pasdeloup wrote that _Rienzi_ was to be given again at the re-opening of the theatre, but without Monjauze, who had unfortunately broken his arm.

They begrudged Monjauze and regretted exceedingly that it was necessary to replace him, for he alone, in that work, was equal to his part. Pasdeloup did not say who would take his place.

It was on the occasion of that first representation of _Rienzi_ at Paris, that, urged by Pasdeloup, I had written again to Wagner,--after the sending of the famous articles which had brought me the beautiful response from the Master, in which he explained to me certain scenes from the _Meistersinger_--I wrote this time, to ask if he would not like to come to Paris to stage and direct this work. He replied to me with a second letter, equally beautiful and very dignified, intended for publication and which appeared in _La Liberté_.

"Now that I know your writing," said I to Cosima, "I realise that the letter was by your own hand."

"That is true, Wagner wrote it first in German. I translated it into French, then we re-read it and corrected it together, and finally I copied it again."

"How wrong of us to have given you all that trouble! Pasdeloup was over-confident. If I had known about this retreat of Tribschen, how sacrilegious would have seemed to me the idea of asking the Master to leave it in order to please a Theatre Director!"

"You have seen by the affair of the _Rheingold_, that it is much better for Wagner not to mingle with the theatrical world. His first duty is to keep his creative faculty intact, but he is a 'fighter,' and is always tempted to throw himself into the fray."

"Now that I have the joy of knowing him, he will never again be called to battle by me!"

"He will return of himself, only too soon, for repose is not for him," added Cosima, sighing:

"I am curious to read again that letter that you wrote, you two, when you believed me to be a very serious old lady.... Do you remember your surprise, the first time you saw me to find me so different from what you had imagined? You would not be able to write in the same tone now."

"Certainly, the style of your articles does not at all resemble you, and we did not in the least foresee the _gamin_ that you are ... sometimes!"

"Neither could I have known that Wagner climbed trees...."

"But in any case the letter had nothing private in it; it was written to be published."

Cosima had kept a copy of the text, which she found, and we read it together:--

"MADAME,

"You are kind enough to ask me for some details relating to the time of my first stay in France, with the kindly intention of writing an article by their aid, the publication of which shall coincide with my arrival in Paris, which you believe to be near. While thanking you for the interest which you are so kind as to feel for me, permit me to say, Madame, that it is not my intention to go to Paris. I know that I have excellent friends, indeed, even numerous friends there, and I hope I do not need to assure you that I am capable of appreciating the value and the importance of the testimonies of sympathy of which I am the object. Nevertheless my presence and my participation in the representation that is being prepared might very well give rise to a misunderstanding. It would appear as though I were putting myself at the head of a theatrical enterprise with the intention of regaining by _Rienzi_ that which I have lost by _Tannhäuser_. At least it would undoubtedly be in this way that the Press would interpret my going. Whereas the stage setting of _Rienzi_ at the Théâtre Lyrique has only been an entirely personal question between M. Pasdeloup and me.

"After the production of the _Meistersinger_ at Munich, and the attention it attracted, many propositions were made to me. At first they spoke of sending a German troupe, to give my six operas, one after another, in Paris; then some one wished to attempt _Lohengrin_ in Italian, then again _Lohengrin_ in French, and so on. In short, there were no less than five projects that summer, concerning the representations of my works in Paris. Yet I did not encourage any one of them. When M. Pasdeloup told me that he had accepted the directorship of the Théâtre Lyrique with the intention of giving several of my works, I did not feel that I could refuse to this zealous and capable friend, the authorisation for bringing them out; and, as he desired to begin with _Rienzi_, I said to him that, in fact, of all my operas, that one had always seemed to me best adapted to the French stage. Written, thirty years ago, with a view to Grand Opera, _Rienzi_ does not present so many difficulties to the singers, nor will it offer to the Parisian public so much that is unusual as the works which have followed it. Both in subject and in musical form, it is closely related to the operas that have been popular in Paris for a long time, and I still believe that, if it is richly mounted and given with spirit, it has a chance of success. That success I wish for it with all my heart, and still more success to my friend M. Pasdeloup, who, of his own free will, has valiantly and energetically upheld my cause for a number of years. But I should be unwise to wish to contribute to that success by my presence. My nature as well as my destiny have decreed for me the concentration and the solitude of work, and I feel myself to be absolutely unfit for any exterior enterprise. Either _Rienzi_ will make its way without me, or, if it is not capable of doing so, my assistance cannot help it and we can only suppose that the conditions are unfavourable.

"Such is, in a few words, my point of view and the line of conduct which I have decided, or rather, which I am called upon to follow, with regard to the representation of my works in Paris, whichever they may be. And please, Madame, do not see in this reserve any sign of unreasonable disdain, which could be assumed to mask a deeper feeling of rancour. I am very far from pooh-poohing a Paris success, and I even assure you that I have always considered it one of the numerous ironies of my fate that _Rienzi_, composed within sight of Paris, was not given there long ago, when that work of my youth still held for me all its freshness. But, since you speak of the renown that I have acquired in Germany, permit me to tell you, Madame, that all such renown has come without my personal participation, with the help only of a few friends, in the midst of the howls of the entire Press of the North and of the South. It has come because of my works alone, and in spite of the obstacles that my political situation opposed to the extended knowledge of my operas. It is in the same way that I wish to succeed in Paris, where I have found very devoted friends, who are too intelligent for me to fear to leave the fate of my works in their hands. If you were to say to me, Madame, that a representation ought to conform to my intentions, and therefore my presence at the rehearsals would be above all necessary to the success of the enterprise, I should reply to you that _Tannhäuser_ and _Lohengrin_ have been mutilated by the greater number of German Capellmeisters, in a way that could not be exceeded upon the worst French stage, and that is only since the King of Bavaria has accorded me his protection that it has been possible for me to make my dramatic and musical intentions known in an important theatre.

"Believe me, Madame, things being as they are, there is nothing for me to do but devote myself entirely to the writing of my operas, and as to their fate, in my own country as well as abroad, to leave it to their guiding star and to my friends. I am not the man for compromises, and yet these compromises are sometimes indispensable.

"I keep out, then, in order not to render more difficult to my French friends the rugged path they have chosen in attempting to naturalise in France an essentially Germanic individuality. If this naturalisation is possible, it will be accomplished by them without my help; if it is not possible, I shall deplore their pains, at the same time consoling myself in the thought that they as well as I have drawn their forces elsewhere than from the idea of a success, and that their conviction, like mine, renders them independent of good or of bad fortune.

"Pray, Madame, pardon the length of this explanation, and believe me gratefully and respectfully yours,

"RICHARD WAGNER."

"The Master was nevertheless, very well satisfied with the success of the piece," said Cosima, "and above all, with the expressions of appreciation that it won for him from unknown friends. Then too, in order to celebrate his birthday, the 22nd May--inspired by one of the most popular scenes in the opera--I dressed the children as 'Messengers of Peace' and while an invisible choir sang for them, the little girls, all four of them, marched, keeping step with one another, into the drawing-room with travelling staffs in their hands. Wagner thought it a very pretty idea."

"Eva as a messenger of peace must have been delicious...."

"I also preserved your father's article about _Rienzi_,[1] which was very good," said Cosima. "Wagner ought to have written to thank him."

"If they represent _Rienzi_ again," said I, "we shall also faithfully renew our pilgrimage to the theatre. Think of us then, two and a half weeks from now, as going every day from the heart of Neuilly to the Théâtre Lyrique, and never failing to be in our places in time for the Overture!"

ARTICLE PUBLISHED IN THE "JOURNAL OFFICIEL"

Rarely has Parisian curiosity been more vividly
excited than by the following simple words inscribed
upon the placards of the "Théâtre-Lyrique."

_Tuesday, first representation of Rienzi_,

_Opera in five Acts, by Richard Wagner._

In an age when the general interest is certainly not
with works of art, Wagner has the gift of stimulating
the public, of calling forth frantic enthusiasms and
provoking violent repulsions.

The mere mention of his name assembles clouds in the
most serene heavens, clouds which soon grow into a
storm, lightning breaks out in intermittent flashes,
thunder mutters and growls above the sound of the
rain, the wind and the hail. In all this tumult no
one remains indifferent, the universe seems about to
collapse and each person hurries toward the altar of
his own menaced deity.

The rival choruses of detractors and admirers
insult each other as at the taking of Messina and
are ready to tear each other to pieces. There is an
excitement,--a tumult--a fury, which recalls the
great romantic struggles of 1830, when the young
followers of Hernani broke into the theatre with
their password, and tore away the classic masks and
headgear--proclaiming the liberty and independence of
art.

If we had never heard a note of Richard Wagner, all
this uproar would have assured us of his superiority.
He troubled all the musical world too profoundly
not to be a genius, a hero, in accordance with the
meaning of Emerson and Carlyle. From whatever point
of view one considers him, he always produces a new
sensation, it may be a little prematurely, but one is
conscious even now that he will become the sovereign
master and that nothing can prevent his future
greatness. Very soon his victorious banner will float
from the highest turret of the citadel, gilded by the
sun and caressed by the very wind which before had
twisted and torn it.

Young musicians, not yet established, regard Wagner
either as a God or as a tempting demon. It is Wagner
who preoccupies the thoughts of the older masters
already secure in their own glory, and in every
contemporaneous work it is not difficult to find some
reflections, or at least traces of the secret study
of this powerful originator.

A chance of travel led to my being present at
a production of _Tannhäuser_ in the theatre at
Wiesbaden, at a time, already long past, when the
name of Richard Wagner was hardly mentioned in
France. This music, strikingly novel to us who
knew absolutely nothing of the composer, made an
impression upon us at the same time strange and
delicious. We had heard for the first time the true
music of romance, such as poets might conceive it.
The opera reproduced, with most unaffected fidelity,
the legend of the good knight Tannhäuser and Madame
Venus, living happily together on the heights of
Venusberg--until at last the noble German, who was
a good Catholic at heart, became suspicious of some
witchcraft and said to his mythological companion:

"Venus, my beautiful Goddess,
Thou art in truth a demon."

That which most impressed us in the score of the
Teutonic Master was the extreme dearness of the
musical manner of translating the spoken phrase by
means of a continuous melody, without elaboration,
without superfluous flourish, the orchestra providing
the commentary, and, sustaining with its own fulness
the simplicity of the vocal design. We sent from
Wiesbaden either to the "Moniteur" or the "Artiste,"
we no longer remember which, an appreciative article
which ended in expressing astonishment that an opera
so original and unusual had not yet passed beyond the
limits of the Rhine. Our astonishment was also great
when, some years later, this same Tannhäuser--so
easily given at the theatre of Wiesbaden, by singers
and an orchestra which were probably not the first
in Germany--having been produced here at the Opera,
was declared impossible, foolish, absurd, outside all
the possibilities of the theatre, and was smothered
under a storm of hisses. They muffled Wagner's music
in derisive purple, under the pleasantry "Music of
the Future," but the wag who invented the phrase had
no idea that he spoke so truly. In fact its time has
come, and the music of the future is very near to
being the music of to-day. The fall of Tannhäuser
in no way unsettled our convictions. Critics are
stubborn, and even though they are not dealing with
the old romantic poets, they know very well that
hisses do not kill a work of genius.

They said of the dramatic verses of Victor Hugo
precisely what they say of the musical phrases of
Wagner. Accusing them conclusively of not being verse
at all, yet to-day it is a common argument of advance
that the author of "Ruy-Blas" and the "Légende des
Siècles" is the greatest master of metrical form of
our time.

But to return to Rienzi, the production of which at
the Théâtre-Lyrique accomplished an old-time project
of the Master's. One of Wagner's letters makes that
clear--"Written about thirty years ago, with a view
to grand opera, Rienzi presents no difficulties for
the singers to overcome, and offers to the Parisian
public none of the problems of my later works. Both
in subject and in musical form it is closely related
to the operas that have long been popular in Paris,
and I still believe that if it is brilliantly mounted
and given with spirit it has a chance of success."

For serious works, time is required in which to bring
them a full acknowledgment, but it comes at last,
and the Master's own judgment of his work was most
triumphantly confirmed the other evening. Rienzi has
not literally arrived at the Grand Opera, but at the
Théâtre-Lyrique it met with a zeal, an ardour of
conviction and a passionate devotion which ought to
banish from his mind any possible regret. Pasdeloup
has splendidly welcomed the illustrious guest that he
endeavours to introduce and to naturalize in France.

A few words upon the libretto translated from
Wagner's poem by Messrs Mutter and Guillaume. One
need not seek there for the learned complications of
our own lyric dramas. It is the history of Rienzi
very simply told just as it happened in reality.
Cola Gabrino, called "Rienzi" or "Rienzo," was the
son of an Innkeeper. He received a good education,
bound himself in friendship with Petrarch and, in
studying antiquity, became enamoured of the ideas of
liberty and a republic. The sojourn of the Popes at
Avignon delivered Rome over to the most troublesome
disorders. Rienzi harangued the people, succeeded
in making himself Tribune, drove out the Barons and
re-established the old and good government. His rule
at first was wise, but intoxicated by too great power
after having been liberator he became the oppressor
of Rome. Driven out of the city once, he returned
and was killed in a riot, by a servitor of the house
of Colonna. Beginning like Brutus, he ended like
Masaniello or Jean de Leyde.

Rienzi, Wagner's first lyric drama, shows already an
immense talent. Here is not yet revealed the Wagner
of the Flying Dutchman, but a man, nevertheless,
untrammelled by precedent. Excepting the Cavatinas
in the Italian style, inserted here and there to
please the public, the opera resembles no other,
the impression is unique. It is all a great tumult,
a rising of the people. There are in fact only two
characters, Rienzi and the populace. It is more like
a magnificent symphony with choruses than like an
opera as ordinarily heard. The orchestra has become
the great power, the science of which the composer
fully understands and controls.

In the first act, the call to arms--

"When the trumpet shall have sounded thrice,"

is marked by a proud enthusiasm which extends to the
chorus, whose voices carry on the theme swelling
and augmenting it to a superb crescendo. The trio
which follows is intermingled with an adorable
accompaniment. In the second act the aria sung by
the first of the messengers of peace, felicitating
Rienzi, was warmly and insistently applauded. Nothing
could be more sweet, more tender or more delicate
than this melody, admirably sung by Mlle. Priolat,
from whom the entire audience demanded its repetition.

The chorus of conspiring patricians is also very
fine; under the dull murmurs one divines the revolt
of injured pride and the muttering of an, as yet,
powerless hatred. The entrance and the grief of
Adriano, are expressed in the orchestra by two notes
of the hautboys which are like the sigh of a broken
heart. This pure and charming detail foretells the
later Wagner whose orchestra is able to reveal all
things and to make one experience all emotion. The
septet and the final chorus are fragments of such
power and grandeur that you feel as though you were
floating upon wings. In the third act, we especially
noted the military march with its firm and warlike
rhythm; and the prayer of the women, augmented in its
fervour and its terror by the intermittent sounds of
battle. In the fourth act, the march of peace and the
magnificently dramatic situation of Rienzi, accursed,
excommunicated, deserted, alone upon the steps of
the church. In the fifth act, the prayer of Rienzi,
admirable in its sadness and its fervour.

"Rise, O Sun, and make the light of liberty to
shine upon the world."

In this part one again sees the powerful Wagner
of to-day, and the entrance of the Sister of the
Tribune, who consoles him by her devoted love, is
like a vista through which one catches a brief
glimpse of the angels with fluttering wings of the
prelude to Lohengrin. One must congratulate M.
Pasdeloup, the new director of the Théâtre-Lyrique,
who has already done so much for art by means of his
popular concerts, for having pro-produced Rienzi.
The notable success of the first representation, a
success which will, undoubtedly, continue, allows
us to hope that we may also have before very long,
The Flying Dutchman, Tannhäuser, Lohengrin, Tristan
and Isolde, Die Meistersinger, and all that unknown
repertory, rich casket of new treasure.

Rienzi is sumptuously mounted, the costumes and
decorations are rich and appropriate; the choruses
well arranged and the whole forms a splendid
spectacle. The final tableau of the death of Rienzi
on his balcony is presented in a highly dramatic
manner.

Montjauze, in his impersonation of Rienzi, surpasses
all one's expectations, he is transfigured into a
singer and an actor of the first rank. This role is
for him what William Tell was for Duprez. He sustains
with wonderful ease the continuous dialogue with
the chorus. His voice dominates those great, those
formidable crowds, and with a gesture he restrains
the flood of people pressing about him in a transport
of eagerness and joy. He wears with artistic grace
and majesty the splendid white draperies, richly
embroidered in gold, with which the Tribune clothed
himself in his vanity as a parvenu whose head was
turned at the summit of his grandeur. One could not
imagine a more perfect incarnation of the type of
Rienzi.

Mme. Borghese sings with warmth the rather thin
arias of Adriano, lover of the Tribune's sister, who
is herself very gracefully represented by Mdlle.
Steinberg. But this poor little love episode is
tossed about, in all senses, like a drowned flower by
the tumultuous foaming upheaval of this great tragic
drama, which begins with a battle and ends with a
riot.

The choruses are excellent, and the orchestra
executes with splendid spirit that overture of
Rienzi, already popular long before the opera itself
was known.

THÉOPHILE GAUTIER.