E. T. A. Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and the Struggle for German Opera Internationale Forschungen zur Allgemeinen und Vergleichenden Literaturwissenschaft

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Norbert Bachleitner (University of Vienna)

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Francis Claudon (Paris-Est Créteil Val de Marne University) Rüdiger Görner (Queen Mary, University of London) Achim Hölter (University of Vienna) Klaus Ley (Johannes Gutenburg University of Mainz) John A. McCarthy (Vanderbilt University) Alfred Noe (University of Vienna) Manfred Pfister (Free University of Berlin) Sven H. Rossel (University of Vienna)

VOLUME 192

The titles published in this series are listed at brill.com/favl E. T. A. Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and the Struggle for German Opera

By

Francien Markx

LEIDEN | BOSTON Cover illustration: Unknown artist. Schauspielhaus am Gendarmenmarkt in Berlin (circa 1821). Oil on copper. 51.5 × 64.5 cm. Germany, xix century. Inv. no. GE-5089. Reproduced with kind permission of the State Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg. Copyright the State Hermitage Museum, photo by Alexey Pakhomov.

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This book is printed on acid-free paper. Table of Contents

Acknowledgments 7

Prelude 9

Prologue: German Musical Drama and the Emerging Public Sphere 15

Hamburg – Leipzig – Weimar and Gotha – The National Theater Projects – Mannheim – Vienna – Berlin – E. T. A. Hoffmann’s Theatrical and Operatic Experiences – Evaluating Hoffmann’s Contribution(s) to Opera

ACT I. NARRATING OPERA (CRITICISM) FOR THE ALLGEMEINE MUSIKALISCHE ZEITUNG (Berlin, Bamberg, Leipzig/Dresden, 1808-1814)

Chapter One Ritter Gluck: On The Art of Judging Opera 71

The Power of Anecdotes – Querelle des Gluckistes et des Piccinnistes. Christoph Willibald Gluck in the French Press – Gluck in the German Press – E. T. A. Hoffmann’s Views on Gluck – Ritter Gluck: A Response to Forkel – Narrating Gluck’s Public Image – Berlin: An Operatic Backwater – A Tale Illuminated by Music – Ritter Gluck: Towards a New Aesthetics of Opera

Chapter Two Don Juan: Reflections on (Performing) Mozart’s Don Giovanni 119

E. T. A. Hoffmann’s Don Juan and Lorenzo Da Ponte’s Don Giovanni – Contemporary Performance Practices – E. T. A. Hoffmann and Mozart’s Don Giovanni – Restaging Don Giovanni – Approaches to Mozart – Mozart’s Score and Donna Anna’s Secret – Reflections on Donna Anna’s Role – A Tale Inspired by Music

Chapter Three Poet and Composer: Operatic Insights of an Insider 161

Turbulent Times – The Dialogue Der Dichter und der Komponist – Theoretical Discourse: The Poet (A. W. Schlegel) and the Composer (E. T. A. Hoffmann) – How Not to Write a Libretto: Der Opern-Almanach des H[er]rn A. v[on] Kotzebue – Musical Practice – Der Dichter und der Komponist: A Program for Romantic Opera? – A Word to the Composer: Über einen Ausspruch Sachini’s – Der Dichter und der Komponist and the Future of German Opera – The Poet and the Composer: Hoffmann’s Own Creative Production ACT II. BACK IN BERLIN: BALANCING ACTS AS ARTIST AND CRITIC (1814-1822)

Prelude: Brühl and the Berlin Theater 223

Chapter Four ‘Patriotic Acts’: Undine on the Berlin Stage ossia Accomplishments of a Trio (Fouqué, Hoffmann, and Schinkel) 231

Preparing the Stage – Fouqué’s Undine – The Staging of Hoffmann’s Undine – Voices of the Critics – Carl Maria von Weber’s Review of Undine for the AMZ – Weber and the German Ideal – Romantic Ideal versus Reality – Dénouement

Chapter Five Berlin Reviews I: Dramaturgisches Wochenblatt and Vossische Zeitung 289

Reviews of 1815 – Reviews of 1816 – Envisioning the Future: Visions of a Realist – Contributions for the Vossische Zeitung: Reviewing a Befriended Reviewer – Hoffmann’s Final DW Contribution: Die Kunstverwandten or the Joys and Sorrows of Producing an Opera – Art Beyond Boundaries: Towards a Universal Operatic Style

Chapter Six Berlin Reviews II: Standing up for Spontini 329

A Parisian in Berlin – Hoffmann’s Warm Welcome – Briefe über Tonkunst in Berlin. Erster Brief – Hoffmann’s Remaining Berlin Reviews – Zufällige Gedanken or Ritter Gluck Revisited – Spontini’s Opera Olimpie – Hoffmann’s Translation of Olimpie – Hoffmann’s Last Review: Nachträgliche Bemerkungen über Spontinis Oper Olympia – Further Observations on Hoffmann’s Last Review

Chapter Seven Falling Silent: The Freischütz Controversy 401

A Tumultuous Première – Contemporary Letters and Comments – ‘Made in Germany’ or An Opera’s Success Story – Reflections on Hoffmann’s Silence

Postlude 439

Bibliography 443

Index 479 Acknowledgments

This book has benefited greatly from the help of a number of people, most notably Lisa DeBoer, Gloria Eive, Margaret Jean Flynn, Matthew Franke, Hansje Langedijk, John A. McCarthy, Michael Minnema, and Carl Niekerk, all of whom, at various stages, helped to improve its final version through their careful readings, thoughtful comments, or valuable advice. I thank them all for inspiring me to complete this project.

I am also grateful to the Kupferstichkabinett Berlin; the Kunsthistorisches Museum Wien; the Residenzgalerie Salzburg; the State Hermitage Museum, Saint Petersburg; and the Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Nationalgalerie for granting permission to reproduce the included images.

Finally, I would like to thank the staff at the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek; the Fenwick Library, George Mason University; the Koninklijke Biblio- theek, Den Haag; the Library of Congress; the Nederlands Muziek Instituut; the Openbare Bibliotheek Amsterdam; the Universiteitsbiblio- theek van Amsterdam; the Universiteitsbibliotheek Utrecht, the Staats- und Universitätsbibliothek Hamburg; the Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin, Preußischer Kulturbesitz, Musikabteilung mit Mendelssohn-Archiv; and the Univer- sitätsbibliothek Rostock for their help in providing all of the research materials for this study.

Part of Chapter Two was published as an article entitled ‘E. T. A. Hoffmann’s “Don Juan”: Views of an Eccentric Enthusiast?’, in Seminar, 41: 4 (November 2005), 367-379. Article DOI: 10.3138/sem.v41.4.367. Seminar - A Journal of Germanic Studies is the property of University of Toronto Press.

Prelude

Das Publikum fing an, nach und nach unruhig zu werden. Wiederholte Pause. Neuer, verstärkter Tumult. Die deutsche Oper wollte noch immer nicht zum Vorscheine kommen. Die Direktion kam bei dem zunehmenden Lärmen in die größte Verlegenheit; endlich erschien Hanswurst, ganz erschöpft und in Schweiß gebadet und sprach: ‘[…] Es geht, ehrlich gesagt, der deutschen Oper sehr übel. Sie leidet an Krämpfen und ist durchaus nicht [fest] auf die Beine zu bringen. Eine Menge Hilfeleistende sind um sie beschäftigt, sie fällt aber aus einer Ohnmacht in die andere’.

(The public gradually began to get restive. Another moment’s silence, and the restiveness became more marked. German opera still refused to appear. As the noise increased, the management became really embarrassed until Hanswurst appeared, exhausted and bathed in sweat, and said: ‘[…] To be quite honest, German Opera is not at all well. She suffers from nervous cramps and can’t stand properly. She is surrounded by would-be helpers, but falls from one faint into another’.)1 (Carl Maria von Weber, Tonkünstlers Leben, 1813)

Carl Maria von Weber penned this humorously bitter account of the state of German opera a few months after he became director of the opera in Prague in January 1813. The passage from his novel Tonkünstlers Leben goes on to describe the failed efforts of staging the German opera by clothing her in French and Italian costumes, but nothing seems to fit. When the opera finally appears (‘A Romantic-patriotic music drama’), its language is so inaccessible and complicated that it leaves even Hanswurst in profound and ponderous thoughts, so that he has to apologize to the audience for falling into this ‘bad old German habit’ of philosophizing. Although it covers only a few pages, this satire on German opera was written over the course of several years (between 1813 and 1818) and the novel itself remained a fragment that Weber worked on intermittently between 1809 and 1820. The genesis of this text is, in some ways, emblematic of the fitful attempts then under way to create a German opera. This struggle to create opera in the vernacular is generally associated with

1 For material originally in German, French or Italian, existing English translations are cited if available, with their source indicated in a footnote. In all other instances, translations are mine. – FM Carl Maria von Weber, Sämtliche Schriften von Carl Maria von Weber, ed. by Georg Kaiser (Berlin and Leipzig: Schuster & Loeffler, 1908), pp.484-485; Carl Maria von Weber, Writings on Music, translated by Martin Cooper, edited and introduced by John Warrack (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981), p.346. 10 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera the name of Carl Maria von Weber, due to his efforts as director of the German Department at the Dresden court opera, and especially as composer of the enormously-successful Der Freischütz (1821). As a talented writer as well as a composer, Weber authored many opera reviews and musico-dramatic articles as introductions to major opera productions that he conducted in Prague and Dresden. Thanks to these activities and his extensive efforts, Weber has been viewed as spearheading the development of German Romantic opera, which eventually moved towards the Wagnerian Gesamtkunstwerk.2 The present study turns its focus to another important voice in the discourse on opera during the early nineteenth century: E. T. A. Hoffmann. Today, E. T. A. Hoffmann is remembered primarily as the author of two novels and some four dozen tales and as a prolific music critic, who recognized Beethoven’s unsurpassed achievements as a symphonist. His last opera Undine (1816) is routinely mentioned in histories of German opera, and the views voiced in his seminal essay Der Dichter und der Komponist (The Poet and the Composer, 1813) are frequently cited as early visions of Romantic opera and even as precursors to Wagner’s Gesamtkunstwerk. Notwithstanding the extensive literature on Hoffmann as a literary author and on his views as a music critic, a monograph on Hoffmann and opera has not yet been written. Studies on Hoffmann and music focus primarily on aesthetics and in particular on Hoffmann’s role in proclaiming music as the true Romantic art.3 His laudatory writings on Beethoven and

2 Steven Paul Scher, ‘Hoffmann, Weber, Wagner. The Birth of Romantic Opera from the Spirit of Literature?’, in The Romantic Tradition. German Literature and Music in the Nineteenth Century, ed. by Gerald Chapple, Frederick Hall and Hans Schulte (Lanham: University Press of America, 1992), pp.227-244 (pp.236-237); John Warrack, ‘German Operatic Ambitions at the Beginning of the Nineteenth Century’, Proceedings of the Royal Musical Association, 104 (1977-1978), 79-88 (p.85). Also see Chapter Seven for this traditional view of the history of German Romantic opera. 3 Among these numerous studies are Paul Greeff, E. T. A. Hoffmann als Musiker und Musikschriftsteller (Cologne: Staufen, 1948); Hans Ehinger, E. T. A. Hoffmann als Musiker und Musikschriftsteller (Olten: Walter, 1954); Peter Schnaus, E. T. A. Hoffmann als Beethoven-Rezensent der Allgemeinen Musikalischen Zeitung (Munich: Katzbichler, 1977); Carl Dahlhaus, Die Idee der absoluten Musik (Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1978); Norbert Miller, ‘E. T. A. Hoffmann und die Musik. Zum Verhältnis von Oper und Instrumentalmusik in seinen Werken und Schriften’, in Kaleidoskop. Eine Festschrift für Fritz Baumgart zum 75. Geburtstag, ed. by Friedrich Mielke (Berlin: Mann, 1977), pp.267-303; Herbert Schulze, E. T. A. Hoffmann als Musikschriftsteller und Komponist (Leipzig: VEB Deutscher Verlag für Musik Leipzig, 1983); John Neubauer, The Emancipation of Music from Language: Departure from Mimesis in Eighteenth-Century Aesthetics (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1986); Robin Wallace, Beethoven’s Critics: Aesthetic Dilemmas and Resolutions during the Composer’s Lifetime (Cambridge: Prelude 11 elevation of instrumental music to metaphysical heights are therefore at the center of most scholarly considerations of his work. After his move to Berlin in 1814, however, Hoffmann’s writing centered almost exclusively on opera. This might explain the scholarly emphasis on Hoffmann’s reviews up to that point, while those from the Berlin period have received but little attention.4 An underlying narrative of most studies on Hoffmann and music—and of Hoffmann biographies as well—is his path from composer and music critic to his true calling as a literary author, which he found only later in life. This artistic development, according to this narrative, necessarily led to disillusionment with the Romantic promise of music.5 In recent years, interest in the musical aspects of his work has waned among Hoffmann scholars as well.6 Even Hoffmann’s music tales, for example, have been interpreted increasingly as self-reflexive texts rather than as reflections on music. In contrast to these trends, this study retraces a passion that inspired Hoffmann’s entire œuvre throughout his life as a composer, music critic and literary author: his passion for opera. It is not a coincidence that the most extensive part of Hoffmann’s music criticism is concerned with opera.

Cambridge University Press, 1986); Christine Lubkoll, Mythos Musik. Poetische Entwürfe des Musikalischen in der Literatur um 1800 (Freiburg im Breisgau: Rombach, 1995); Claudia Liebrand, Aporie des Kunstmythos. Die Texte E. T. A. Hoffmanns (Freiburg im Breisgau: Rombach, 1996); Heike Stumpf, ‘...wollet mir jetzt durch die phantastisch verschlungenen Kreuzgänge folgen!’ Metaphorisches Sprechen in der Musikkritik der ersten Hälfte des 19. Jahrhunderts (Frankfurt am Main: Lang, 1996); Corina Caduff, Die Literarisierung von Musik und bildender Kunst um 1800 (Munich: Fink, 2003). The most recent monograph in English on Hoffmann and music is, again, an investigation into Hoffmann’s musical aesthetics: Abigail Chantler’s E. T. A. Hoffmann’s Musical Aesthetics (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2006). 4 David Charlton’s edition of the English translation of Hoffmann’s musical writings (Cambridge University Press, 1989, 2003) exemplifies these tendencies in Hoffmann scholarship: All of the reviews on Beethoven and on symphonic music are included in unabridged versions, three lengthy opera reviews are cut considerably, and a few others (from the Berlin period) are omitted entirely. 5 E.g., Klaus-Dieter Dobat, Musik als romantische Illusion. Eine Untersuchung der Musikvorstellung E. T. A. Hoffmanns für sein literarisches Werk (Tübingen: Niemeyer, 1984) and Nicola Gess, Gewalt der Musik. Literatur und Musikkritik um 1800 (Freiburg im Breisgau: Rombach, 2006) are proponents of this view. 6 This tendency is clearly reflected in, for example, E. T. A. Hoffmann. Leben – Werk – Wirkung, ed. by Detlef Kremer (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2009). This six-hundred-page monograph dedicates eleven pages to Hoffmann as music critic (with half a page to his Berlin reviews), and twenty-three pages to Hoffmann as a composer. For more on this tendency, see also Chapter Two. 12 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

During his Berlin period (1814-1822), almost all of his reviews relate to this art form. As a composer, his central achievement also lies in the operatic genre, while he wrote only a few instrumental works. The notion that Hoffmann turned away from music and opera in disillusion after finding his true calling as a literary author ignores the fact that it was in Berlin that Hoffmann celebrated his greatest success as an opera composer with the staging of his opera Undine, and despite his busy schedule as a Supreme Court judge and literary author, opera was the subject of his last and most extensive music review. The commonly-held view that Hoffmann developed his literary style by experimenting with music criticism until he found his true literary calling is questionable, especially since his early contributions on opera were already fully-developed literary works. Insights from these early tales were later reformulated into traditional reviews. These were followed by more theoretical essays further exploring the genre, with the longest traditional review emerging at the very end. Hoffmann’s development from music critic to literary author is therefore much more complex than has been hitherto described. Due to the scholarly emphasis on his aesthetics and instrumental music, scant attention has been paid to Hoffmann’s music reviews written during his last years in Berlin. These reviews comment on performances at the Berlin Opera but do not offer lengthy aesthetic treatment of the works at hand. Since they addressed ‘only’ issues of the day, and opera rather than instrumental music, scholars have considered these reviews to be of minor importance. Chapters Five and Six of the present study are entirely dedicated to these writings from Berlin. They not only illustrate Hoffmann’s continued interest in opera, but also demonstrate in exemplary fashion that music criticism does not operate in a vacuum. The growing political and cultural importance of Berlin, its new-found self-awareness after the Wars of Liberation, and the power politics of its elite did not enable a solely aesthetic treatment of opera. The works that Hoffmann selected for review, the points he stressed, and the words he chose show his recognition of the controversial position of opera in the Prussian capital. As music critic, his task was further complicated by his own standing as a member of the Supreme Court and as a celebrated author, and his ambitions as an opera composer. Hoffmann’s position in the conflict between Gaspare Spontini and Carl Maria von Weber has resulted in considerable confusion, and merits careful study in the context of the circumstances prevailing at the time. Had Hoffmann really betrayed the cause of German opera by his support of Spontini, as the proponents of this endeavor believed? Or did he simply Prelude 13

‘change his mind’, as most modern scholars assume?7 Another underlying narrative has obscured the view here. Until recently, the history of German opera has been described as a steady and progressive development, beginning with Gluck, who emphasized drama over vocal concerns; flourishing in Romantic opera as exemplified in Hoffmann’s Undine and Weber’s Der Freischütz; and culminating in Wagner’s Musikdrama. How could Hoffmann, who had recognized the timeless qualities of Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, and Bach, have been so blind in this respect by choosing the now largely-forgotten Spontini over Weber? As recent studies have begun to reveal, however, there were so many experiments, influences, and directions in the early decades of the nineteenth century that multiple histories of German opera are emerging.8 Given the complexities of the operatic landscape and its development in the German-speaking territories, Hoffmann’s defense of Spontini and his silence regarding Weber’s Der Freischütz compel a reconsideration of this contested topic. Only by abandoning the familiar narrative of a deterministic trajectory in the development of German opera are new paths cleared for reevaluating Hoffmann’s position. Many of Hoffmann’s writings on opera date back to the turbulent era of the Wars of Liberation and their aftermath. This was also a time of changing ideas about the function and origin of artistic styles, which were increasingly viewed as expressions of a national character. In his writings, Hoffmann drew on this newly-emerging notion in which specific musical characteristics were seen as expression of an ethnically-based national spirit. He even used this self-conscious ethnic awareness to praise the music’s authenticity or to condemn its shortcomings. On a higher level, however, he believed such national characteristics should be synthesized in a universal style that should be inclusive rather than exclusive. In his Berlin reviews in particular, Hoffmann advocates a cosmopolitan concept of opera in which various national styles merge. His opera reviews, accordingly, serve as a fascinating testimony to the transition from the old cosmopolitan opera, in which nationality was merely a matter of choice, to the new idea of a national opera, in which the composer’s ethnic origin was key to the

7 E.g., Norbert Miller, ‘Hoffmann und Spontini. Vorüberlegungen zu einer Ästhetik der romantischen “opera seria”’, in Wissen aus Erfahrungen. Werkbegriff und Interpretation heute. Festschrift für Herman Meyer zum 65. Geburtstag, ed. by Alexander von Bormann (Tübingen: Niemeyer, 1976), pp.402-426 and Gess, Gewalt der Musik, pp.330, 333, 334. 8 See especially Oper im Aufbruch. Gattungskonzepte des deutschsprachigen Musiktheaters um 1800, ed. by Marcus Chr. Lippe (Kassel: Bosse, 2007). 14 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera music’s expression of a national spirit. Hoffmann’s staunch defense of Spontini as being ‘German’ can only be understood in this context. The current study presents Hoffmann’s writings on opera in chronological order, from Ritter Gluck (1809), his first contribution and first literary publication, to the final and most lengthy review of his entire career as a music critic: his review of Spontini’s opera Olimpia (1821). Hoffmann’s writings are discussed in the contexts of contemporary performance practices, music criticism, libretto composition, aesthetic discourse and pertinent political developments. Although Hoffmann’s contribution to operatic discourse in early nineteenth-century Germany is at the core of this study, some notable parallels between Hoffmann’s and Weber’s careers, views, and endeavors are also examined. Both men began their careers as music critics in the same year (1809), for the same journal (the Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung), and both expressed many of the same artistic opinions in their reviews. Both composers would be employed as conductors of an opera company in 1813, première their major opera compositions in Berlin, and ultimately, both would be disappointed in their hopes of securing a position at the Berlin Opera. With Hoffmann’s writings as the leading voice, such points of intersection will be highlighted throughout the following chapters while weaving in Weber’s views and activities where appropriate. The goals, concerns, and careers of both Hoffmann and Weber were determined by the theater reforms, the operatic experiments, and the development of a public discourse on these issues during the previous century. The introductory Prologue sketches the manifold developments that shaped the operatic landscape in the German-speaking territories, to which Hoffmann and his contemporaries in turn contributed with their own compositions and criticism.

Prologue German Musical Drama and the Emerging Public Sphere

When Hoffmann began his career as a music critic, German opera was little more than an idea, and not even a clearly-defined one. While France and Italy could already look back on a centuries-old tradition, no lasting German operatic genres had yet been established. Attempts and experiments at creating opera in the vernacular were as fragmented as the German-speaking world itself. There was no lack of opera theaters in its numerous kingdoms, duchies, and principalities; in fact, the density of opera theaters in these territories was greater than in any other area outside Italy. After the glory days of German opera around 1700, however, opera in the vernacular had sunk into oblivion and been replaced by Italian opera seria. For over a century, Italian opera was the dominant theatrical phenomenon in Europe (with the exception of France). It was only after the Seven Years’ War (1756-1763) that German opera reemerged; not in the context of the courts, however, but as an increasingly-popular product of traveling theater companies. The same actors thus performed opera and spoken drama, which greatly impacted the subject matter and structure of the operas themselves, as the performers were not trained musicians. While troupes became increasingly specialized over time by hiring more skilled musicians and singers, the close connection between spoken theater and opera is still visible in Hoffmann’s biography. Hoffmann, moreover, was a prolific representative of another important development, one intimately connected to the expansion of the musical theater: the growing importance of the music press and of public discourse in matters of art and culture. Opera, especially once it was no longer bound to the court theater system, became the subject of heated debates on its morality and poetological legitimacy. Ranging from deliberations as to how applicable rationalist rules of mimesis were to discussions on what constituted genuinely German drama and opera, these debates were all conducted in the emerging (music) press, which expanded from scholarly publications in the early eighteenth century to journals with broad public appeal at the turn of the nineteenth century. The musical theater also played an important role in the changing theatrical landscape of the German territories; traveling companies increasingly specialized in presenting musical dramas with ever-growing personnel and production costs, pressuring them to settle permanently at a particular court or in a larger city. This trend coincided with the efforts of many courts to economize by founding public theaters and employing native personnel rather than expensive foreign artists, along with an appeal from intellectual, 16 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera mostly middle-class circles for the promotion of art and music produced in the vernacular. The subsequent founding of a series of National Theaters presented German theater companies with new challenges and opportunities. A much higher level of musical production was not only possible but also required, given the fact that the theaters were now competing with Italian opera. The following survey summarizes the most important developments of German opera and the emerging public discourse around it, starting with the flowering of German opera in its most successful and enduring institutional form: the Hamburg Opera. The scene then changes to Leipzig, where the strongest opposition to opera was staged, but also its rebirth with Johann Adam Hiller’s comic Singspiele. A landmark was hailed not long thereafter with Wieland’s Alceste in Weimar, which was to become the center of theoretical reflection on what German opera should be. The survey goes on to consider the National Theaters that gave the most significant new impulses to vernacular opera, namely those in Mannheim, Vienna, and Berlin. The overview also documents Hoffmann’s close involvement in various aspects of theatrical events and developments at the turn of the nineteenth century and how they prepared him for his own writings on opera.

Hamburg

Over the course of the fifteenth century, Hamburg had developed into the primary port city of Northern Europe. Its republican constitution and independence, as well as its economic prosperity, attracted many immigrants over the following centuries.1 Spared the devastations of the Thirty Years’ War (1618-1648), its population and economy grew rapidly: Merchants, craftsmen, sailors, workers, servants and foreign diplomats all found employment in this thriving cosmopolitan city. Its strong and prosperous middle class and numerous diplomats stimulated the city’s cultural development. In 1678 the Opernhaus am Gänsemarkt, the first public opera

1 Hans Wilhelm Eckardt, ‘Hamburg zur Zeit Johann Matthesons: Politik, Wirtschaft und Kultur’, in New Mattheson Studies, ed. by George J. Buelow and Hans Joachim Marx (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983), pp.15-44, offers an overview of Hamburg’s political, socioeconomic, and cultural evolution from the Middle Ages to the early eighteenth century. Prologue 17 house outside of Venice, opened its doors.2 As Hamburg’s music scene had always been dominated by the church, the newly-established opera profited from the ready availability of experienced church singers and musicians.3 The city’s close ties to the church were also evident in the house’s inaugural opera, Der erschaffene, gefallene und auffgerichtete Mensch or Adam und Eva, featuring a text by Christian Richter and music by Johann Theile (1646- 1724).4 Theile had been court composer to the founder of the Hamburg Opera, Duke Christian Albrecht of Schleswig-Holstein-Gottorf, who had fled to the Hanseatic city in 1675 following a war with Denmark. The Duke’s idea was put into practice by distinguished Hamburg citizens, notably town councillor Gerhard Schott, who financed the building of the opera house and acted as its director until his death in 1702. Schott was able to attract major composers as Kapellmeister to the opera, most notably Reinhard Keiser (1674-1739) in 1696, who led the Hamburg stage to its greatest successes. In 1703, Georg Friedrich Handel (1685-1759) joined the opera as violinist and harpsichordist and in 1722 Georg Philipp Telemann (1681-1767) assumed its directorship, a post he held until the opera’s demise in 1738. Although most operas performed in Hamburg were local products, operas from the major operatic centers abroad, Venice and Vienna, were also on the repertoire. Hamburg additionally imported operas from Hanover, Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel, and London which, not coincidentally, were the city’s most important trading partners. The opera thus fulfilled not just cultural but also political functions in the city; First of all, similar to the court operas, they operated as a self-representation of the city’s cultural and political elite; second, they also served to strengthen ties with foreign sovereigns who were visiting the city or whose diplomatic staff resided in Hamburg.5 It was also a public space for citizens to meet, to be seen, to

2 For a discussion of the Hamburg Opera see, among others, Reinhart Meyer, ‘Die Hamburger Oper 1678-1730’, Schriften zur Theater- und Kulturgeschichte des 18. Jahrhunderts, ed. by Matthias J. Pernerstorfer (Vienna: Hollitzer, 2012), pp.165-288. 3 Among the most prolific German opera composers in the early years at the Hamburg Opera were Nicoloaus Adam Strungk (1640-1700), Johann Philipp Förtsch (1652-1732), and Johann Wolfgang Franck (1644-ca.1710). In 1690, a second phase with permanent Kapellmeister began with Johann Georg Conradi (1645- 1699), followed by Johann Sigismund Kusser (1660-1727). 4 Apart from biblical themes, which only made up about a fourth of the repertoire, operas in Hamburg favored historical and mythological topics. Meyer, ‘Die Hamburger Oper’, p.205. 5 On the Opera’s multiple cultural and political functions see Meyer, ‘Die Hamburger Oper’, pp.188-222. Regarding its political implications, see esp. Dorothea Schröder, Zeitgeschichte auf der Opernbühne: barockes Musiktheater in Hamburg im Dienst von Politik und Diplomatie (1690-1745) (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1998).auer 18 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera discuss matters of common interest, and to do business. The opera’s librettists did not fail to point out the opera’s importance for moral edification and defended the genre against attacks from Orthodox-Pietist circles, which had criticized the Hamburg Opera since its inception.6 The most vocal and influential defender of Hamburg’s operatic enterprise was the composer, performer, music theorist, translator, and diplomat Johann Mattheson (1681-1764). While Mattheson composed five operas for the Hamburg stage, his chief contribution lies in his tireless effort to bring the importance of the theatrical arts, and of opera in particular, to the attention of the public and to help create a public forum in which such matters of common interest could be discussed. Mattheson launched the first German music periodical, entitled Critica Musica (1722-1725).7 In his preface (‘Vortrab’), he explained the didactic purpose of his undertaking: to educate professional musicians and interested audiences through critical evaluations of domestic and foreign theoretical music publications. He hoped that the accessible form of a periodical, rather than a book that hardly anyone would read from cover to cover, might be more effective, comparing it to a steady flow of fruitful raindrops.8 Apart from offering a forum for polemical confrontations between music experts, Mattheson in particular strove to

6 H[e]inrich Elmenhorst, Dramatologia antiquo-hodierna. Das ist: Bericht von denen Oper- Spielen (Hamburg, 1688); Barthold Feind, Gedancken von der Opera (1708). Besides Elmenhorst (1632-1704) and Feind (1678-1721), the most prolific librettists were Johann Ulrich König (1688-1744) and Christian Heinrich Postel (1658-1705). For more on the discourses defending opera around this time, see Gloria Flaherty, Opera in the Development of German Critical Thought (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1978), pp.37-65; John Warrack, German Opera: From the Beginnings to Wagner (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001), pp.34-51. 7 The groundwork for such an initiative had been laid by periodical publications of musical compositions, announcements and reviews on musical matters in newspapers and periodicals, moral weeklies inspired by British models, and scholarly journals. (See Imogen Fellinger, ‘Mattheson als Begründer der ersten Musikzeitschrift (“Critica Musica”)’, in New Mattheson Studies, pp.179-197 (pp.180- 186). As secretary to British envoy John Wich, and later to his son Cyrill Wich, Mattheson was well-versed in English literature and culture and had earlier published Der Vernünfftler (1813-1814), a moral weekly modelled after the English journals Tatler (1709-1711), The Spectator (1711-1712) and The Guardian (1713). 8 Critica Musica. d.i. Grundrichtige Untersuch- und Beurtheilung / Vieler / theils vorgefaßten / theils einfältigen Meinungen / Argumenten und Einwürffe / so in alten und neuen / gedruckten und ungedruckten / Musicalischen Schrifften zu finden. Zur müglichsten Ausräutung aller groben Irrthümer / und zur Beförderung eines bessern Wachsthums der reinen harmonischen Wissenschaft / in verschiedene Theile abgefasset / und Stück-weise heraus gegeben von Mattheson (Hamburg, im May, 1722). ‘Vortrab’, [pp.3-4]. Prologue 19 elevate the stature of music and musicians, insisting that music, rather than being a mere craft, should be considered part of the liberal arts and sciences. In 1728 Mattheson published his second periodical, Der musicalische Patriot, designed after the moral weekly Der Patriot (1724-26), a publication of the Hamburg Patriotische Gesellschaft.9 Throughout his second music journal, he pointed out how opera was not only beneficial for morals but also significantly contributed to the economy, to the guidance of the upper classes in furthering the common good, and to civil society as a whole. The richness of its means in fact made opera the most influential of all of the arts. In his Die neueste Untersuchung der Singspiele (Hamburg, 1744), he summarized the cultural and civic importance of opera as follows:

Meines wenigen Erachtens ist ein gutes Operntheater nichts anders, als eine hohe Schule vieler schönen Wissenschaften, worinn zusammen und auf einmal Architectur, Perspective, Mahlerey, Mechanik, Tanzkunst, Actio oratoria, Moral, Historie, Poesie, und vornehmlich Musik, zur Vergnügung und Erbauung vornehmer und vernünftiger Zuschauer, sich aufs angenehmste vereinigen, und immer neue Proben geben.

(In my humble opinion, a good opera theater is nothing less than an advanced school of many fine arts, in which together and at the same time architecture, scenic design, painting, machinery, dance, declamation, morality, history, poetry and, above all, music unite in the most agreeable manner, and continually give new demonstrations for the pleasure and edification of a distinguished and intelligent audience.)10

The Hamburg opera house, though, had closed its doors by that time; changing tastes and exorbitant expenditures had brought this sixty-year enterprise to an end. Mattheson’s efforts, however, would have a long-

9 This society came into being in 1723 and was a continuation of the Teutsch-übende Gesellschaft. Its members were primarily scholars, authors, and teachers, the most well-known today being Barthold H[e]inrich Brockes (1680-1747), a poet and member of the Hamburg senate. For the goals of this society, its publication and its role in creating a space for public discourse, see Herbert Rowland, ‘The Journal “Der Patriot” and the Constitution of a Bourgeois Literary Public Sphere’, in Patriotism, Cosmopolitanism, and National Culture: Public Culture in Hamburg 1700-1933, ed. by Peter Uwe Hohendahl (Amsterdam: Rodopi, 2003), pp.55-69. How interconnected the literary sphere was with the city’s musical endeavors is evident from the fact that Brockes’ oratorio libretto on the passion story was set by prominent composers, all of whom, at one time or another, worked for the Hamburg Opera: Keiser, Handel, Telemann, and Mattheson. 10 Johann Mattheson, Die neueste Untersuchung der Singspiele, nebst beygefügter musikalischen Geschmacksprobe (Hamburg: Herold, 1744), pp.86-87. Translation based on Warrack, German Opera, p.58. 20 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera lasting effect; he had helped create a space for public discourse on opera and music in general. More initiatives followed suit across the German territories, such as Johann Adolph Scheibe’s Der Critische Musicus (Hamburg, 1737-1740), Lorenz Christoph Mizler’s Neu eröffnete musikalische Bibliothek (Leipzig, 1736-1754), Friedrich Wilhelm Marpurg’s Der critische Musicus an der Spree (Berlin, 1749-1750), and, later in the century, Johann Nicolaus Forkel’s Musikalisch-Kritische Bibliothek (Gotha, 1778-1779). Important achievements in advancing the German theater now came from traveling companies, most notably those led by Johann Friedrich Schönemann (1704-1782), Konrad Ekhof (1720-1778), and Konrad Ackermann (1710-1771). Among the highlights of Schönemann’s company was the performance of Gotthold Ephraim Lessing’s Miss Sara Sampson in 1756, the first German bürgerliches Trauerspiel (bourgeois tragedy).11 In contrast to French classical tragedy, and following some earlier English examples, tragic fate was no longer reserved for the nobility in this new genre; every human being could be struck by it. The bourgeois tragedy reflected the moral values and new self-awareness of the emerging middle class. A decade later, Ekhof and Lessing would work closely together in a new endeavor, the so-called Hamburg Enterprise. Ekhof had joined Ackermann’s company, which came to Hamburg in 1764. Ackermann built a new theater at the Gänsemarkt replacing the old opera house, but financial difficulties, quarrels among the actors, and poor attendance plagued the company. In 1767, Hamburg patricians gave their support to Johann Friedrich Löwen (1727-1771), Schönemann’s son-in-law, and his idea of establishing a National Theater patterned after a similar institution in Copenhagen. In Löwen’s view, the reasons for the shortcomings of the German theater lay primarily in the lack of interest shown by royal patrons or cities, the opposition of church authorities, and the absence of a centralized capital. With guaranteed salaries and pensions, Löwen believed, actors could finally dedicate themselves to their art, cast off their bad reputation, and eventually educate themselves and the public.12 Löwen strongly advocated the development of a genuinely German repertoire to replace the French-influenced comedies then ruling the stage.13 Clearly, the founders began their venture with high expectations, as was also reflected in their choice of Gotthold Ephraim Lessing (1729-1781) as

11 Heinz Kindermann, Theatergeschichte Europas, 10 vols (Salzburg: Otto Müller, 1957- 74), IV: Von der Aufklärung zur Romantik (1. Teil), (1972), p.518. 12 Johann Friedrich Löwens Geschichte des deutschen Theaters (1766) und Flugschriften über das hamburger Nationaltheater (1766-1767) im Neudruck mit Einleitung und Erläuterungen herausgegeben von Heinrich Stümcke (Berlin: Frensdorff: [1905]), pp.52-72. 13 Stümcke, ed., Johann Friedrich Löwens Geschichte, pp.3-4. Prologue 21 dramaturg and resident critic. However, due to financial problems, unrest among its members, and church opposition, the theater was forced to close again in 1769. The repertoire during this short period had largely consisted of translations of French dramas. Opera had not been a priority for the theater, nor for Lessing.14 But it had staged another highlight for German- language drama with Lessing’s comedy Minna von Barnhelm (première on 30 September 1767) and was the inspiration for Lessing’s reflections on the enterprise and his visions for theater reform, as presented in his Hamburgische Dramaturgie. In its final essay, Lessing concluded rather bitterly: ‘Über den gutherzigen Einfall, den Deutschen ein Nationaltheater zu verschaffen, da wir Deutsche noch keine Nation sind! Ich rede nicht von der politischen Verfasssung, sondern bloß von dem sittlichen Charakter. Fast sollte man sagen, dieser sei: keinen eigenen haben zu wollen’. (‘Out on the good-natured idea to procure for the Germans a national theatre, when we Germans are not yet a nation! I do not speak of our political constitution, but only of our social character. It might almost be said that this consists in not desiring to have an individual one’.)15 Despite Lessing’s disappointment, Hamburg had been the first stage of a burgeoning German opera and of theater reform efforts culminating in the first German National Theater. In both endeavors, public performance and reflection had gone hand in hand. The artistic as well as theoretical works of its two most prolific spokesmen, Mattheson and Lessing, embodied critical responses to the Leipzig Professor Johann Christoph Gottsched (1700- 1766), who had set out to reform German theater earlier in the century.

Leipzig

With German opera in decline since the 1720s, prospects for its future looked even grimmer when, to add to the ongoing theological attacks, efforts to reform the German theater resulted in fierce criticism for social

14 The opera debate did, however, play a role in shaping Lessing’s criticism of rationalist poetics as advocated by Johann Christoph Gottsched (see Flaherty, pp.201-232. In this chapter, Flaherty also addresses Lessing’s sole (fragmentary) libretto Tarantula (a ‘Possenoper’), Lessing’s deliberations on poetry and music in the unpublished parts of Laokoon, and his views on incidental music.) 15 Gotthold Ephraim Lessing, Werke und Briefe in zwölf Bänden, ed. by Wilfried Barner and others (Frankfurt am Main: Deutscher Klassiker Verlag, 1985-2003), VI: Werke 1767-1769, ed. by Klaus Bohnen (1985), p.684; G. E. Lessing, Hamburg Dramaturgy, translated by Helen Zimmern, with a new introduction by Victor Lange (New York: Dover, 1962), p.262. 22 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera and poetological reasons. The chief instigator of these efforts was Johann Christoph Gottsched, who became professor of poetry at the University of Leipzig in 1730. He aimed to establish a genuinely German theater by cultivating the German language, improving the education and status of the actors, and building a repertoire of German plays. He found an ally in the actress and theater director Friederike Caroline Neuber (1697-1760), also known as the Neuberin, who helped disseminate Gottsched’s views on many stages beyond Leipzig. As German works were few in number, French classical tragedies by Racine and Corneille served as models for translations. Gottsched strictly adhered to the rationalistic principle of verisimilitude. Neither the improvised harlequinade nor opera played any role in his vision of the German theater. In his Versuch einer Critischen Dichtkunst vor die Deutschen (1730), Gottsched dedicated his last (twelfth) chapter to opera and Singspiel. Here he stated that opera plots were unnatural and entirely unrealistic. Moreover, people would never sing to each other all the time in real life. He also objected to the mixing of languages, especially the alternating use of German and Italian by a single performer. The text in either language was unintelligible and opera thus affected the senses only, corrupting the morals of the audience.16 Gottsched’s views were disseminated not only by the Neuberin and other traveling theater companies, but also by the newly-emerging music press. Mizler’s Musikalische Bibliothek, for example, published and commented on all of Gottsched’s writings on opera.17 Already in the first edition of his Critische Dichtkunst, Gottsched had welcomed the closing of the Leipzig opera house ten years earlier,18 and in the fourth edition (1751) he hailed the end of the Hamburg Opera as well as opera stages at most smaller courts.19 Gottsched’s observations referred to German opera in particular, whose institutions could not be sustained and for whom the Silesian wars often meant a final blow.20 Italian opera, to the contrary, flourished as never

16 Johann Christoph Gottsched, ‘Von Opern oder Singspielen’, Versuch einer Critischen Dichtkunst vor die Deutschen (Leipzig: Breitkopf, 1730), pp.603-613 (pp.603-607). 17 Meyer, Schriften zur Theater- und Kulturgeschichte, p.433. 18 The Leipzig Opera had been founded in 1793 by Nicolaus Adam Strungk, who had previously worked for the Hamburg Opera. The opera house was continually plagued by financial troubles and finally had to close in 1720. 19 Gottsched, Versuch einer Critischen Dichtkunst, 4th edn (Leipzig: Breitkopf, 1751), p.752. 20 On the transfer of operatic hegemony to the Italians, see Reinhard Strohm, ‘The crisis of Baroque opera in Germany’, in Strohm, Dramma per Musica: Italian Opera Seria of the Eighteenth Century (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1997), pp.81-96. Strohm attributes the closures of the opera houses between 1700 and 1740 to dynastic and, most importantly, financial reasons. Prologue 23 before. In 1730 Pietro Metastasio was installed as court poet in Vienna.21 He had already established his name with six drammi per musica, and his works would continue to inspire composers of opera seria and virtuosi for the remainder of the century. Hence, at the very same time Gottsched was crusading against opera, the Metastasian model emerged as the principal musico-theatrical institution in Europe.22 To Gottsched’s dismay, it was in his own city of Leipzig that a new genre of German musical theater emerged. In the wake of the Seven Years’ War, many German theater companies had to regroup and develop a new repertoire. After his return to Leipzig in 1766, Heinrich Gottfried Koch (1703-1775) performed in the newly-constructed theater, ‘Kochs Theater’, until his move to Berlin in 1771.23 Leipzig was an important commercial and intellectual center and it dominated the book and music-publishing market in Germany. The famous annual trade fairs attracted many affluent and well-educated visitors. Koch organized his theatrical seasons around these fairs, thus lending his performances a broader, not exclusively local impact. When he asked Christian Felix Weiße (1726-1804) and Johann Adam Hiller (1728-1804) to revise Der Teufel ist los oder die verwandelten Weiber, a fruitful collaboration between Koch, Weiße and Hiller began, creating the new genre of German comic opera, which was modeled on English ballad-opera, French opéra comique, and Italian opera buffa.24 Among the most famous achievements in this new genre were Lottchen am Hofe (1767), Die Liebe auf dem Lande (1769), and Die Jagd (1770).25 The dramas portrayed in these Singspiele were based on

21 Pietro Metastasio was a pseudonym for Pietro Antonio Domenico Bonaventura Trapassi (1698-1782). The operas composed on his libretti represented festive manifestations of Enlightenment ideals, absolutist power for aristocratic rulers, and encomiums to the living monarchs who subsidized the opera productions. 22 On Metastasio’s international influence and reputation, see Reinhart Meyer, ‘Die Rezeption der Opernlibretti Pietro Metastasios’ and ‘Die Rezeption der Dramen Metastasios im 18. Jahrhundert’, Schriften zur Theater- und Kulturgeschichte, pp.509-564. 23 Koch had been a member of Caroline Neuber’s troupe for some twenty years, before founding his own company in Leipzig in 1749. At the start of the Seven Years’ War he had moved to Hamburg, where he became Prinzipal of the company previously led by Schönemann. 24 Charles Coffey’s ballad opera The devil to pay or The wives metamorphos’d (1728) had first been translated into German in 1743 by Caspar Wilhelm von Borck and performed by Schönemann in Berlin. In 1752, Koch had Weiße retranslate the play and performed it in Leipzig with music by Johann Georg Standfuß. Gottsched launched a pamphlet war against Koch and his comic opera performances, which only heightened the emerging new genre’s popularity. Thomas Bauman, North German Opera in the Age of Goethe (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985), pp.22-23. 25 Die Jagd was dedicated to Duchess Anna Amalia at Weimar, where it premièred at the Schlosstheater on 29 January 1770. 24 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera the lives, values, and concerns of common people, and idealized rural life, sometimes contrasted with deplorable city manners or artificiality of the courts. Koch’s theater troupe had no professional singers among its members, a phenomenon common among almost all theater companies, for professional singers who commanded enormous salaries could be supported only by the Italian court theaters. Hiller, therefore, wrote simple song-like melodies without virtuosic display. Due to the highly accessible and memorable tunes of these Singspiele, they soon became very popular across the German-speaking territories. The significance of Weiße and Hiller’s comic operas reached far beyond giving new impulses to opera in the vernacular. The dissemination of their songs added a new dimension to the public sphere, whose primary modes of communication had consisted of printed materials such as newspapers and periodicals, and institutions such as salons, theaters, and concert halls.26 Singing, and communal singing in particular, added a new mode of communication that appealed to the senses of people across the boundaries of social class. The common language, idyllic simplicity, and moral values expressed in Hiller’s songs fostered the notion of a shared cultural identity. Popularizing the singing of songs not only cultivated a communal spirit but also, as Weiße assured his readers, helped to educate the people by developing their predilection for the good and the beautiful.27 With Koch’s move to Berlin in 1771, which helped popularize the comic Singspiel in the Prussian capital, the operatic scene in Leipzig began to deteriorate. Hiller was increasingly called away by other duties: In 1763, he had revived the tradition of the subscription concerts, also called ‘Großes Concert’. As he was convinced that the lack of trained singers made futile any efforts to advance German opera and concert life, he turned his pedagogical activities towards a singing school (1770) and founded a ‘Musikübende Gesellschaft’ (1775) dedicated to performing oratorios and other sacred music. When the new concert hall was opened in the

26 The songs of Weiße’s and Hiller’s Singspiele were printed and disseminated as piano- vocal scores by the Leipzig-based publisher Breitkopf shortly after the première of each opera. For the significance of the comic Singspiel in the public sphere and the emergence of a national consciousness, see: Estelle Joubert, ‘Songs to Shape a German Nation: Hiller’s Comic Operas and the Public Sphere’, in Essays on Opera, 1750-1800, ed. by John A. Rice (Farnham: Ashgate, 2010), pp.329-346. For the rise of the public sphere more generally, see Jürgen Habermas, Strukturwandel der Öffentlichkeit. Untersuchungen zu einer Kategorie der bürgerlichen Gesellschaft (Neuwied: Luchterhand, 1971). 27 Christian Felix Weißens Selbstbiographie, ed. by Christian Ernst Weiße and Samuel Gottlob Frisch (Leipzig: Voss, 1806), pp.324-326. Prologue 25

Gewandhaus in 1781, Hiller was appointed Kapellmeister and would lead the famous Gewandhaus-Concerte until 1785. With Koch and Hiller occupied elsewhere, Italian opera from Dresden began to take over the operatic stage in Leipzig. In 1763, the court at Dresden had abolished its once-stellar Italian court opera after the devastations of the Seven Years’ War and the death of Elector Friedrich August II.28 Italian opera was now performed at a smaller theater, alongside German opera, which was presented by the renowned theater companies of Koch (1764-1765), Carl Theophil Doebbelin (1774-1775), and Abel Seyler (1775-1777). It was unusual that both German and Italian opera were performed at the same house; the famous Hofkapelle, however, would only accompany Italian opera.29 The German actor-singers could not compete with the far better trained Italians, and after 1789 the theater ceased to present opera in the vernacular. German opera continued to be performed at the Theater auf dem Linckeschen Bade; between 1790 and 1817 it was Joseph Seconda’s company that staged regular performances here and in Leipzig. Seconda’s ensemble had an undistinguished reputation, a fact confirmed by E. T. A. Hoffmann, who was appointed its music director in 1813.30 Disagreements between Seconda and Hoffmann concerning artistic matters finally led to their falling-out in February 1814, after which Hoffmann was dismissed.31 The company itself was dissolved in 1817. King Friedrich

28 Johann Adolph Hasse (1699-1783), who had begun his career as a singer at the Hamburg Opera in 1718, was Kapellmeister of the Dresden court opera for more than thirty years. After it closed in 1763, he moved to Vienna with his wife, the famous singer Faustina Bordoni (1697-1781). Hasse played a pivotal role in the development of Metastasian opera seria. 29 For these developments, see Panja Mücke, ‘Wandertruppe und Hoftheater. Die Etablierung deutschsprachiger Opern in Dresden’, in Oper im Aufbruch, pp.133-152. 30 The company had, however, apparently improved after a reorganization in 1810, when Friedrich Schneider was appointed as music director (AMZ 13: 16 (1811), cols 271-272). Hoffmann had applied for the position in 1810 as well; by the time he arrived in 1813, some singers had already left. When performances in Leipzig were impossible due to acts of war during the Wars of Liberation and French occupation, Seconda was allowed—through the mediation of his brother Franz Seconda, who was responsible for German-language theater in Dresden/Leipzig—to perform at the Dresden court opera, alternating with the Italians under Kapellmeister Francesco Morlacchi (1784-1841). Hoffmann’s activities during his time at Leipzig and Dresden will be discussed in greater detail in Chapter Three. 31 In his letter to Friedrich Rochlitz (7 March 1814), Hoffmann recounted the events that had led to his dismissal: It was Seconda’s habit to disdainfully dismiss every suggestion or comment offered by Hoffmann regarding artistic matters such as repertoire or order of the pieces performed. During a terribly cold night, Hoffmann allowed the bass to omit one of his arias, for which Seconda told him off in front of

26 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

August I of Saxony, after his release from captivity under Prussian-Russian custody, brought German opera back to the court in 1817 by instituting the ‘deutsches Département’ alongside Francesco Morlacchi’s Italian opera. This time, however, the German opera was able to hire professional singers and was accompanied by the Hofkapelle.32 The establishment and development of the new undertaking were entrusted to Carl Maria von Weber, who kept his post as Kapellmeister until his death in 1826. Morlacchi’s death in 1841 marked the end of Italian opera in Dresden; during the same year, the German department moved to the new Saxon court opera, built by architect Gottfried Semper, where, from 1843 to 1849, Richard Wagner (1813-1883) assumed the post of second Kapellmeister.33

Leipzig and the Development of the Music Press

While Hiller strengthened the role of music in the public sphere with his Singspiele and public concert activities, an equally-remarkable contribution was his founding of the first general music journal, titled Wöchentliche Nachrichten und Anmerkungen die Musik betreffend (Leipzig, 1766-1770). Rather than informing and enlightening music professionals and connoisseurs, Hiller’s journal intended to provide amateurs and general music lovers with news about famous musicians, musical events, and music publications.34 The expansion of musical activities outside of church and court through public concert life, as well as domestic musicmaking, increased the need for communication about musical topics of general interest. In contrast to the earlier journals, which were all run by a single, authoritative figure in the field, Hiller employed a staff of contributors, many of whom were not professional musicians or theoreticians but rather literary authors and critics. In the first issue of his journal, Hiller raised the question as to the appropriate tone of his journal and whether its authors should criticize the

the entire company. Hoffmann then lost his temper by retorting that educated men ought to be treated with respect. The next morning, Seconda dismissed him. E. T. A. Hoffmanns Briefwechsel. Gesammelt und erläutert von Hans von Müller (†) und Friedrich Schnapp, ed. by Friedrich Schnapp, 3 vols (Munich: Winkler, 1967-1969), I: Königsberg bis Leipzig 1794-1814 (1967), pp.448-449. 32 Mücke, p.152. 33 Wagner was subordinate to the first Kapellmeister Karl Gottlieb Reissiger (1798-1859), who had succeeded Carl Maria von Weber in 1828. 34 All publications addressed would be available at Breitkopf’s. See Wöchentliche Nachrichten und Anmerkungen die Musik betreffend, ed. by Johann Adam Hiller. Erstes Stück (Leipzig, 1 July 1766), p.5. Prologue 27 works under review.35 This question would not have occurred to his predecessors, whose periodicals generally carried the term ‘critical’ in their titles. Rather than interfering in polemics, Hiller focused on presenting and summarizing music publications and providing samples of piano pieces and songs in most issues, forming a collection over time. The new readership and new critics considerably changed the profile of music periodicals. While the experts and critics of the older learned journals had based their judgments primarily on rules of composition, attention increasingly turned to the effect that music had on its listeners. As the ‘language of feeling’ par excellence, music was to be judged by the ear rather than by rules of the craft; accordingly, performance reviews and matters of musical taste became important parts of musical discourse. This new emphasis on sensory values, taste, and discussions on the validity and universality of such judgments were part of the larger aesthetic discourse of the time. One highly-influential voice within this discourse was Immanuel Kant (1724-1804), who famously stated in his Kritik der Urteilskraft (1790) that aesthetic judgments were ‘subjective’, but had ‘universal validity’, as they were based on a sensus communis (common sense, or community of taste).36 In music, however, it turned out to be rather difficult to establish and maintain a broad platform on which matters of composition, performance, and reception could be discussed, and, like Hiller’s Wöchentliche Nachrichten, the attempts to do so were short-lived. A major problem lay in the fact that new forms and a new language, one that was more accessible to a broader audience, had to be found. Nomenclature and language could only capture the technical aspects of a composition, and its subjective effect had thus far resisted description.37 Nevertheless, the public’s need to be informed about public musical life is evident from the fact that more general newspapers and journals, such as Christoph Martin Wieland’s Der Teutsche Merkur (1773-

35 Hiller, Wöchentliche Nachrichten, 1: 1, p.5. 36 Immanuel Kant, Kritik der Urteilskraft (Hamburg: Meiner, 2001), pp.156-177. 37 In 1783, in the preface to his newly-established music journal Magazin der Musik, Carl Friedrich Cramer, for example, observed that currently a ‘general music journal is completely lacking’, one that would offer literary edification for professional musicians and music lovers alike and would satisfy their musical curiosity. (Carl Friedrich Cramer, Magazin der Musik, ‘Vorbericht’, 1: 1 (1783), p.IV.) Cramer also reflected on the difficulties of writing about music and longed for a higher form of criticism, one that would capture the spirit without denying the letter (notes) of the composition, so that it would come to life before the reader. (Cramer, Magazin der Musik, 2: 1 (1785), pp.641-642 fn.102.) Like Hiller’s earlier attempt, Cramer’s Magazin der Musik ceased publication after just a few years (1783-1787/1788-1789), despite efforts to target a larger audience. 28 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

1810) and Friedrich Nicolai’s Allgemeine Deutsche Bibliothek (1765-1794) began to incorporate musical contributions, and Nicolai even included a separate music rubric.

The Leipzig Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung

The first successful general music periodical was founded in 1798 by the music publisher Breitkopf & Härtel. Gottfried Christoph Härtel (1763-1827) had joined Breitkopf’s music publishing house in 1795 and soon took over the business. In 1798, Härtel launched an edition of Mozart’s complete works (Oeuvres complettes) in sixteen volumes, and also founded the music journal Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung (AMZ). As editor, he hired Friedrich Rochlitz (1769-1842), who would remain in this capacity for twenty years, after which the journal continued for yet another thirty years. Rochlitz had studied music, theology, and philology, but decided to earn a living as a writer and translator. The success of the new journal may have been due, in part, to the backing of Breitkopf & Härtel’s strong commercial firm, an economic support that earlier journals had lacked entirely. The journal’s success, however, was undoubtedly also due to the concept that Härtel and Rochlitz had worked out together. To ensure a broad readership, the journal would appear weekly and present philosophical and historical essays on musical topics, reviews of new compositions, and interesting news from the music world in major German cities and abroad.38 The plan was therefore to address both a broad readership, from music lovers to experts, and to reach out geographically as far as possible. Rochlitz managed to build a network of correspondents in fifty cities in the German-speaking territories and he received news regularly from Paris, St. Petersburg, London, and other cities abroad. As Celia Applegate has pointed out, the AMZ was instrumental in building and fostering a German community, which self-identified as a community of music makers and music lovers.39 The idea of a German commonality was encouraged by regularly including news of musical activities, musicians, and music institutions from various German cities, and especially by the idealization of a shared great musical past represented, among others, by Handel, Mozart and Bach.40

38 The plan was published in Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung (AMZ), 1: 1 Intelligenz-Blatt no. 1 (October 1798). 39 Celia Applegate, Bach in Berlin. Nation and Culture in Mendelssohn’s Revival of the ‘St. Matthew Passion’ (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2005), pp.86-100. 40 Applegate points out that during Rochlitz’s editorship the bound volumes of a year’s issues, which were presented with a frontispiece engraving of a notable musician,

Prologue 29

An important item on Rochlitz’s agenda was German opera. In the very first issue of the AMZ, the first contribution, entitled ‘Gedanken über die Oper’ (‘Thoughts on the Opera’), describes the genre as the highest achievement in the musical art, second only to church music.41 In the fifth letter of a series of contributions entitled ‘Bruchstücke aus Briefen an einen jungen Tonkünstler’ (‘Fragments from Letters to a Young Composer’), Rochlitz called on young composers to elevate the genre by unifying all of the arts involved in it.42 In 1804, the AMZ acted as an intermediary for the commissioning of new German operas. A few months later, however, the journal had to announce the failure of the initiative due to a lack of response from the major theaters.43 Such efforts to promote German opera and a consciousness of a shared musical past, however, should not cause us to overlook the tremendous diversity of voices, opinions, and issues represented in the AMZ over the years. The great number of contributors, with their very different backgrounds and specialties, resulted not only in a variety of perspectives but also in the very uneven quality of the reviews, so much so that Hans Georg Nägeli, backed by Rochlitz, was prompted to provide a standard for the journal’s contributors.44 Nägeli particularly emphasized the rational and measured form in which a review was to be presented, but his efforts hardly influenced the course of the journal. Proponents of the old school of formal music criticism found a platform in the AMZ as much as representatives of the aesthetics of Empfindsamkeit or even Romantic music aesthetics. If a discernable commonality was to be found at all, it took the form of a shared feeling that none of the existing critical approaches to music were completely adequate. Dry analysis did as little to capture the essence of music as did the emphasis on emotions evoked in the listener, and neither the technical nor the aesthetic approach was entirely satisfactory. Rochlitz addressed this inherent problem of music criticism in one of the first issues of the AMZ with reference to Mozart’s Requiem: He would abstain from any

constructed a German past as they featured a vast majority of Germans (17 out of 20). Applegate, Bach in Berlin, p.98. 41 AMZ 1: 1 & 3 (3 & 17 October 1798), cols 1-9, 33-38. 42 AMZ 2: 9 (27 November 1799), cols 161-170. 43 ‘Vorschlag … zur Emporbringung der deutschen Oper […]’, AMZ 6: 23 (7 March 1804), cols 365-377. The failure of the project was reported in AMZ 6: Intelligenz- Blatt no. 16 (July 1804). 44 ‘Versuch einer Norm für die Recensenten der musikalischen Zeitung’, AMZ 5: 14 & 16 (29 December 1802 & 12 January 1803), cols 225-237, 265-274. Hans Georg Nägeli (1773-1836) was a Swiss composer and music publisher who also played an important role in music pedagogy and choral singing. 30 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera musical analysis, he explained, as this could never convey the work’s spirit, for the spirit was indescribable.45 He, himself, evaded the difficulty of describing in words the indescribable spirit of Mozart’s music by regularly publishing anecdotes from the composer’s life, which, he hoped, would correct certain inaccurate views on Mozart’s personality and create a better understanding of the composer as an artist.46 Rochlitz thus chose a more biographical approach in order to familiarize his readers with Mozart and his music. Amid this great variety of analytical contributions, concert reviews, aesthetic-philosophical discourses, and biographical sketches, two new voices, for whom opera was a lifelong preoccupation, were heard in the pages of the AMZ beginning in 1809.

E. T. A. Hoffmann and Carl Maria von Weber: Première of two Prominent Critics in the Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung

By the time Hoffmann sent his first contribution, Ritter Gluck, to Rochlitz on 12 January 1809, he already was in his thirties and, while he had not yet published anything under his own name, was an experienced and knowledgeable practitioner of music, arts, and letters (see below). Rochlitz must have recognized Hoffmann’s strong qualifications immediately and invited him to become a regular contributor to the journal. Over the next five years (1809-1814) Hoffmann composed twenty-nine reviews for the AMZ. Eight were dedicated to symphonic music (among others Beethoven’s Fifth and Louis Spohr’s First symphonies) and overtures (Beethoven’s Coriolan). Another eight were reviews of chamber music; the most extensive of these were dedicated to Beethoven’s Piano Trios Op. 70 and piano sonatas by Johann Friedrich Reichardt and Friedrich Schneider. The remaining thirteen reviews focused on vocal music: eight on opera, Singspiel, and theater music, and four on religious music.47 In addition to his reviews Hoffmann contributed twelve further essays and narrative works: With the exception of Briefe über Tonkunst in Berlin (Letters on Music in Berlin), all of these were later incorporated in his Fantasiestücke (‘Ritter Gluck’, ‘Don Juan’, and five contributions as part of Kreisleriana) and Die Serapionsbrüder (‘Der Dichter und der Komponist’ (‘The

45 AMZ 1: 12 (19 December 1798), col.179. 46 AMZ 1: 2 (10 October 1798), col.19. 47 All AMZ-reviews and later performance reviews primarily written for Dramaturgisches Wochenblatt and Vossische Zeitung are collected in E. T. A. Hoffmann, Schriften zur Musik. Nachlese, ed. by Friedrich Schnapp (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesell- schaft, 1963). The following chapters refer to this edition. Prologue 31

Poet and the Composer’), ‘Die Automate’ (‘Automata’), ‘Alte und Neue Kirchenmusik’ (‘Old and New Church Music’), ‘Der Baron von B.’).48 It is perhaps an indication of Hoffmann’s exceptional role as a contributor to the AMZ that his obituary (written by Rochlitz) was published on the front page, spanning ten columns, whereas only a few lines were usually reserved for the obituary section.49 In the same year that Rochlitz invited Hoffmann to review for the AMZ, he also accepted a contribution from another composer-critic, Carl Maria von Weber. The publication of Weber’s review of Johann Baptist Schaul’s Briefe über den Geschmack in der Musik (Letters on Musical Taste) initiated a longlasting relationship between Weber and the Leipzig journal. The following year, in June 1810, Weber personally wrote to Rochlitz for the first time.50 Over the next ten years, he produced twenty-five contributions for the AMZ, ranging from reviews and essays to miscellanea. Weber considered educating and informing the public in musical matters to be of the utmost importance, and raising the standards of music criticism was one of the goals of a secret society that he and some friends had founded, the so-called Harmonischer Verein. As Director of the opera in Prague (1813- 1816) and later in Dresden (1817-1826), he wrote introductory notices for the operas he was about to conduct. Although Weber did not write exclusively for the AMZ as Hoffmann did for half a decade, he held the journal in high esteem and it was to Rochlitz that he sent his most ambitious review, dedicated to Hoffmann’s Undine for publication in 1817, the same year that he assumed the post of Kapellmeister of German opera in Dresden.

48 Only Briefe über Tonkunst in Berlin and Alte und Neue Kirchenmusik are reprinted in the Schriften zur Musik. The other contributions always appear in their later context of the tales. In his E. T. A. Hoffmann’s Musical Writings, David Charlton also includes The Poet and the Composer and Kreisleriana Parts I and II. The new edition of E. T. A. Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, ed. by Wulf Segebrecht and Hartmut Steinecke, 6 vols (Frankfurt am Main: Deutscher Klassiker Verlag, 1985- 2004) chose a chronological approach. Vol. 1 contains the works up to 1813; for all AMZ contributions starting in 1814 and continuing thereafter, the other volumes must be consulted. 49 AMZ 24: 41 (9 October 1822), cols 661-670. 50 Weber had just completed a musical setting of Rochlitz’s Der erste Ton, which he announced he would send as soon as it had left the press. 32 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Weimar and Gotha

In the 1770s, after Koch’s departure, there seemed to be no future for German opera in Dresden or Leipzig. Further attempts were now supported by the smaller courts, in particular those in Weimar and Gotha. As had been the case in Leipzig, a traveling theater company, this time led by Abel Seyler (1730-1801), played a central role in the experiments. Seyler had been the chief investor in the Hamburg enterprise, and, after its failure in 1769, had founded his own theatrical company. After two years of travel, Seyler’s troupe was invited to Weimar by Duchess Anna Amalia and would stay at the court until 1774, when a major fire destroyed large parts of the castle. The court preferred musical drama, especially for important occasions and festivities. Koch had already introduced the comic Singspiel to Weimar,51 and Seyler continued performing musical works. This strong musical interest at the Weimar court also prompted Christoph Martin Wieland (1733-1813), who in 1772 came to Weimar as tutor to the Duchess’s two sons, to turn to musical theater. In cooperation with Seyler’s music director, Anton Schweitzer (1735-1787), he wrote the first serious German opera, Alceste, which premièred in 1773. Alceste differed from the earlier German Singspiel in several respects. Its subject, taken from antiquity, was closer to those found in courtly opera seria or classical tragedy than to Singspiel. Its division into five acts also related it to the tragedy, while its da capo arias were clearly in the tradition of opera seria.52 It did not feature songs or spoken dialogue, which was typical of Singspiel, but rather favored versified recitatives. Despite its similarities to the courtly genres, Wieland’s Alceste exhibits quite different concepts of virtue and merit. Instead of pathos, politics, and power, the praised virtues are of middle-class origin: friendship, loyalty, and duty. The supernatural, spectacular, or highly passionate scenes so typical of Italian opera are absent, as is the ballet. Alceste thus more closely resembles a family drama, in the tradition of the Empfindsamkeit, which explains its great popularity at the court as well as in cities, as both the courtly and civic audiences could identify with the characters.53 Wieland subsequently complemented his libretto with a theoretical framework in his literary

51 Meyer, Schriften zur Theater und Kulturgeschichte, p.413. 52 Schweitzer’s possibilities were greatly limited, however, by the fact that Seyler’s company had only three competent singers. 53 For more details on the traditional as well as innovative aspects of Alceste, see Jörg Krämer, Deutschsprachiges Musiktheater im späten 18. Jahrhundert. Typologie, Dramaturgie und Anthropologie einer populären Gattung, 2 vols (Tübingen: Niemeyer, 1998), I, pp.202- 252. Prologue 33 magazine, Der Teutsche Merkur, which he edited and published between 1773 and 1790.54 In his Versuch über das Teutsche Singspiel, und einige dahin einschlagende Gegenstände (Essay on the German Singpiel and a Few Related Subjects), he expressed the need for Germans to create a new genre, a serious Singspiel uniting poetry, music, and action.55 Wieland chose Francesco Algarotti’s (1712-1764) famous treatise Saggio sopra l’opera in musica (Essay on the Opera, 1755), which had recently appeared in German translation, as a starting point.56 Algarotti had criticized the excesses of Metasatasian opera seria, which in his opinion had transformed the highest of all art forms into a grotesque monster. He was especially critical of the then-common practice of writing long da capo arias, with their many cadenzas and coloratura ornaments, which he considered unnatural. Rather than emphasizing vocal virtuosity, Algarotti argued, the music should be subservient to the text and preserve the integrity of the drama.57 Wieland cited Algarotti’s objections to

54 Der Teutsche Merkur was partly modelled on the Mercure de France, although, as Wieland stated in his preface, their respective circumstances were wildly divergent: Germany lacked a capital and therefore had no locus for nurturing leading artists and guiding taste. The Germans had no national theater and the best authors and artists were scattered throughout the German territories and lacked opportunities to meet and exchange ideas. With his Teutscher Merkur, Wieland intended to offer a platform to help advance and refine literary taste. (Der Teutsche Merkur, 1: 1 (1773), ‘Vorrede des Herausgebers’, p.VI.) From 1790-1810, Wieland continued the publication under the title Der neue Teutsche Merkur. The rich scholarship dedicated to the Teutscher Merkur as the leading journal of the German Enlightenment primarily addresses its broader philosophical agenda and examines its moral, social, political, and aesthetic goals and ethical ideals. For a summary see, among others, Wieland. Epoche – Werk – Wirkung, ed. by Sven-Aage Jørgensen, Herbert Jaumann, John McCarthy, and Horst Thomé (Munich: Beck 1994), Arbeitsbereich VI: Publizistik, pp.159-184. Thomas C. Starnes, Der Teutsche Merkur. Ein Repertorium (Sigmaringen: Thorbecke, 1994) offers a comprehensive overview of the journal’s content and contributors. 55 Der Teutsche Merkur, 3: 4 and 4: 5 (1775), 63-87 (p.68), 156-173. 56 The treatise had been translated into German by Rudolf Erich Raspe, ‘Versuch über die musikalische Oper’, and published in Hiller’s Wöchentliche Nachrichten in five installments (3: 50 & 51 (12 & 19 June 1769), 387-394; 395-402; 3 Anhang, 1, 2 & 3 (3, 10 & 17 July 1769), 1-22.) It also appeared as part of Francesco Algarotti, Versuche über die Architectur, Mahlerey und musicalische Opera, aus dem Italiänischen [...] übersetzt von R[udolf] E[rich] Raspe (Kassel: Hemmerde, 1769), pp.217-300. In 1740, Algarotti was invited to Berlin by Frederick the Great, whom he worked for on diplomatic missions. In 1742 he went to Dresden and acquired art for the royal art collections of King August III, returning to Berlin in 1747. Due to ill health, Algarotti returned to Italy in 1753. 57 Hiller, Wöchentliche Nachrichten, 3: 50 & 51, pp.388-390, 394-400. Such criticisms were not new; in the late seventeenth century, for example, the Accademia dell’Arcadia (a literary circle founded in Rome in 1690) had criticized the imbalance between text

34 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera opera throughout his essay, and pointed out how many of the deficiencies would be solved in the new genre he was proposing. Wieland immediately disarmed rationalist critics such as Gottsched by declaring that although the Singspiel deceived the imagination of the audience, this was quite acceptable, as every art form necessarily differed from reality in some way.58 The deception was moreover legitimized by music’s power to touch the heart. While Wieland still adhered to rationalist views in insisting on the text’s predominance over the other aspects of music and action, he shifted the focus to the genre’s ability to affect the emotions.59 Since music beautified everything it imitated, violent passions, and tragic, shocking, or ugly events were to be avoided.60 Turning against Metastasian practice, Wieland therefore dismissed political topics and recommended mythological, heroic (including chivalric), and pastoral subjects. Plots had to be as simple as possible and the drama should concentrate on the protagonists’ inner emotions.61 The Singspiel Wieland envisioned would advance humanity through emotional and moral education by moving the heart, ennobling the soul, and inspiring it to great deeds.62 He clearly suggested his Singspiel as an alternative for the smaller courts, which could not afford the expenditures required for Italian opera but could take the lead by creating a ‘German Odeon’ (‘einen Tempel teutscher Musen’), and by supporting and institutionalizing general music education.63 It would furthermore take a series of reformist composers such as Gluck, Wieland concluded, before conventions could be overcome and a unified work of art would be possible. The reference to Christoph Willibald Gluck (1714-1787) was no coincidence. Taking Algarotti’s criticisms to heart, the poet Ranieri de’ Calzabigi (1714-1795), in collaboration with Giacomo Durazzo (1717-1794), director of the imperial theaters in Vienna, and Gluck had set out to reform Metastasian opera seria in the 1760s. The result was a series of operas paying tribute to the ideal of ‘noble simplicity’ and placing more emphasis on the dramatic continuity of text and music.64 In his famous preface to the published score of Alceste (Vienna, 1769), Gluck turned against the excesses of traditional opera seria, such as the virtuosic da capo arias, with their word

and music in the latter’s favor and regarded opera as a degenerate form of genuine tragedy. Strohm, Dramma per Musica, p.24. 58 Der Teutsche Merkur, 3: 4 (1775), pp.73-74. 59 Der Teutsche Merkur, 4: 5, pp.166-168. 60 Der Teutsche Merkur, 3: 4, p.79. 61 Der Teutsche Merkur, 3: 4, pp.84-87 and 4: 5, pp.157-158. 62 Der Teutsche Merkur, 4: 5, p.160. 63 Der Teutsche Merkur, 3: 4, pp.64-65, 67-69. 64 Orfeo ed Euridice (1762), Alceste (1767), and Paride ed Elena (1770). Prologue 35 repetitions and lengthy melismas. He advocated restricting the music to expressing the content of the poem, and avoiding abruptly alternating between recitative and aria. To serve the drama, the overture, too, should prepare the audience for the events to follow.65 Wieland had carefully studied Calzabigi’s libretto66 and, a year after his Versuch über das Teutsche Singspiel, he approached Gluck, offering to write a libretto and inquiring which topic he would prefer.67 Although the composer responded positively,68 Wieland abandoned his opera projects after Rosamunde (a libretto for Schweitzer, 1778) and was never to write a libretto for Gluck.69 Despite Alceste’s unparallelled popularity, this serious Singspiel prompted few successive works. After the fire in Weimar, Seyler’s company was welcomed by Duke Ernst II in Gotha, resulting in a fruitful cooperation with his court Kapellmeister Georg Anton Benda (1722-1795). Inspired by Schweitzer’s setting of Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s Pygmalion (1762), Benda composed the first German melodrama Ariadne auf Naxos (based on a text by Johann Christian Brandes), which premièred on 27 January 1775 at the Gotha court theater. Soon thereafter, Medea followed (based on a text by

65 A facsimile of Gluck’s preface, accompanied by a German translation, appears in: Christoph Willibald Gluck, Sämtliche Werke, ed. by Gerhard Croll. Abt. I: Musikdramen (Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1951- ), 3b: Alceste (Wiener Fassung von 1767). Tragedia per Musica in drei Akten von Raniero de’ Calzabigi, ed. by Gerhard Croll, Vorwort, Notenanhang, Kritischer Bericht (2005), pp.X, LVII. For an English translation, see: Music in the Western World. A History in Documents. Selected and Annotated by Piero Weiss and Richard Taruskin (New York: Schirmer, 1984), pp.301-302. In all likelihood, the preface was written by Calzabigi and signed by Gluck. 66 Krämer, I, p.210. 67 Letter of 13 July 1776, Wielands Briefwechsel, 20 vols, ed. by Hans Werner Seiffert and Siegfried Scheibe (Berlin: Akademie-Verlag, 1963-2007), V: Briefe der Weimarer Zeit (21 September 1772 - 31 December 1777), ed. by Hans Werner Seiffert (1983), pp.524-525 (p.525). 68 Letter of 7 August 1776, Seiffert, ed., Wielands Briefwechsel, V, p.538-539. 69 Ulrich Mazurowicz suggests that Wieland must have recognized the difference between his goals and Gluck’s: Gluck envisioned an international grand opera, while Wieland was interested in creating a plain and simple German Singspiel, more lyrical than dramatic in character. (Ulrich Mazurowicz, ‘Wielands Singspieltheorie und ihr Niederschlag bei zeitgenössischen Komponisten’, in Jahrbuch für Opernforschung, ed. by Michael Arndt and Michael Walter (Frankfurt am Main: Lang, 1990), pp.25-42 (pp.31-32). In the end, it was not Wieland’s libretti or aesthetic theories but his own poetic works, such as Oberon, Don Sylvio, and Dschinnistan, that would inspire composers (Mazurowicz, p.38). In the third book of his novel Die Geschichte der Abderiten (1774-1780), Wieland incorporates his theatrical experiences and in particular satirizes opera. (For an extensive summary in English see Flaherty, pp.268- 280.) 36 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Friedrich Wilhelm Gotter), first performed in Leipzig (1 May 1775, 6 June in Gotha).70 With these two works, Benda created a new genre in which recitation and pantomime alternated with (and were sometimes accompanied by) instrumental music. The new genre straddled tragedy and opera seria, resembling both in terms of its subject from Greek mythology. As its performance generally only required one (female) singer and a few instrumentalists, it was ideal for traveling companies as well as amateur groups, and spread rapidly across the German territories and beyond.71 The melodrama seemed to offer a solution for those who criticized the artificiality and incomprehensibility of opera. With its tragic ending, it stood closer to tragedy as well, while the musical genres, Singspiel, opera seria and Gluck’s reform opera, all employed a lieto fine. Given that the melodrama sought first and foremost to move the audience, its tragic ending only increased this effect. Most importantly however, the melodrama, which had set out to restore the predominant role of the text, resulted in the emancipation of music from its mimetic function and demonstrated its superiority over language.72 Wieland’s Alceste had thus been overtaken by something new, which partly explains why his opera found so few successors.73 The 1770s and 1780s were dominated by the new genre of melodrama; its emphasis on monologue, however, limited its dramatic potential as did the choice of subject matter, and the genre vanished from theaters in the 1790s.74 The musical techniques developed in the melodrama, however, would later enrich operatic composition, as is evident in Beethoven’s Fidelio (1814) and Weber’s Der Freischütz (1821).

The idea that musical theater was superior to spoken drama and that music was not a mimetic but a creative art was most clearly voiced by Johann Gottfried Herder (1744-1803). Before moving to Weimar in 1776, he

70 Both works were written for the finest tragic actresses in Seyler’s company: Charlotte Brandes (Ariadne) and Sophie Seyler (Medea). 71 During the 1770s, the melodrama was the only German genre of musical theater that was translated into multiple languages and exported all over Europe. Krämer, I, p.296. 72 When Medea murders her children, for example, the stage is empty and it is the music that evokes the horrifying deed in the imagination of the audience. The most terrifying events could thus be conveyed by music alone. For this transformation of music’s mimetic function into poetic representation in Benda’s melodrama, see Krämer, I, pp.333-340. 73 Two successful serious operas resulted from a collaboration between Gotter and Georg Benda: Walder and Romeo und Julie (Gotha, 1776). 74 Around one hundred melodramas were written between 1775 and 1800, most prior to 1786. Krämer, I, p.297. Prologue 37 composed a libretto, entitled Brutus (1772-1774), in which he attempted to merge Shakespearean drama with Metastasian opera seria.75 Using Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar as the most important source and inspiration for his libretto, Herder followed the typical Metastasian tradition of dividing the work into three acts consisting of recitative and da capo arias. The recitative, however, gained in importance, due to its highly exalted and emotional language (e.g., exclamations, word repetition, ellipsis). The entire libretto focused on Brutus’s heroic inner struggle, tragically ending with his death. This focus on one character and the absence of a love intrigue and lieto fine distinguish it not only from traditional opera seria, but also from the Empfindsamkeit, which had emphasized shared feelings. The great pathos and deep emotion that Herder expected from the musical theater led to a reversal of the roles of text and music in his libretto: The text merely provided loosely-connected scenes, while the music was to provide unity and continuity. Apparently not satisfied with the musical setting of Bückeburg court composer and concertmaster Johann Christoph Friedrich Bach,76 Herder turned to Gluck in an attempt to win him over to set his Brutus.77 Herder’s appeal was rather ill-timed. Gluck had recently signed a contract with the management of the Opéra de Paris to provide six operas, thus pushing on his reform efforts to France. On 19 April 1774, Iphigénie en Aulide premièred in Paris, followed on 2 August by Orphée et Euridice, a French reworking of his earlier Italian version, and Gluck was to travel back and forth between Paris and Vienna in the coming years to perform four more operas.78 Although the Brutus project remained unsuccessful, it clearly expressed a new attitude towards music. While normative rationalist poetics had rejected opera altogether, the Singspiel with its expressive melodic qualities had found a central place in the aesthetics of Empfindsamkeit. For Herder, however, the anti-mimetic qualities of music and its overpowering

75 Herder’s strong interest in opera, but also his insecurity and struggle with the genre, are evidenced by the seven versions of Brutus that he produced (Krämer, I, pp.261- 262 fn.1). After relocating to Weimar, Herder continued to compose libretti. Krämer, I, p.262 fn.3. 76 Johann Christoph Friedrich Bach (1732-1795), ninth son of Johann Sebastian Bach, also called ‘Bückeburg Bach’. Bach’s setting of Brutus premièred on 27 February 1774 at the court theater without success. Its score is now lost. 77 Letter of 5 November 1774, Johann Gottfried Herder, Briefe. Gesamtausgabe 1763- 1803, ed. by Karl-Heinz Hahn, 16 vols (Weimar: Böhlau, 1977- ), III: May 1773- September 1776 (1978), pp.124-125. 78 Alceste (23 April 1776), Armide (23 September 1777), Iphigénie en Tauride (18 May 1779) and Echo et Narcisse (24 September 1779; second version 8 August 1780). 38 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera effect on the soul made musical theater superior.79 Although he had been dreaming of the emergence of a new German opera,80 three decades later Herder disapproved of the most recent operatic developments, including Mozart’s operas, and pleaded for a form of art in which poetry, music, action, and decoration would be united.81 Johann Wolfgang Goethe (1749-1832) also exhibited a lifelong fascination with the musical theater, and similar to Herder, had to make disappointing experiences with his libretti.82 Goethe had been a student in Leipzig (1765-1768) during the first successes of Weiße’s and Hiller’s comic Singspiele, and his first libretto builds on this tradition. After meeting the composer Johann André (1741-1799), Goethe embarked on Erwin und Elmire, a ‘Schauspiel mit Gesang’, first performed in May 1775 in Frankfurt. In July, Doebbelin’s troupe staged the work in Berlin and thanks to its great success André was appointed Kapellmeister for the company. In November

79 Music’s anti-mimetic qualities are clearly articulated in ‘Ob Malerei oder Tonkunst eine größere Wirkung gewähre? Ein Göttergespräch’ (‘Does Painting or Music have a greater effect? A Divine Colloquy’), in which ‘Poetry’ praises ‘Music’ for being a creator, for no actual model existed for her art, neither on earth nor in heaven. (‘Du hingegen, Musik, [...] bist immer Schöpferin, da du kein eigentliches Vorbild deiner Kunst hast, weder im Himmel noch auf der Erde’.) Music affirms that it never imitates and that it is able to call forth tones as Jupiter called forth worlds, which enter the soul like an enchanted language from another world. (Johann Gottfried Herder, Sämtliche Werke, ed. by Bernhard Suphan. Reprografischer Nachdruck der Ausgabe Berlin 1877-1913, 33 vols (Hildesheim: Olms, 1967-1968), XV, pp.222-240 (p.233).) Poetry and Music combined, however, achieve the greatest effect (Herder, Sämtliche Werke, XV, p.237). For the superior effect of combining music and words, also see ‘Tanz und Melodrama’, Adrastea, 2: 4 (1801) in Herder, Sämtliche Werke, XXIII, pp.329-346 (pp.333-335). 80 Apart from his own librettos, there is also Herder’s famous exclamation: ‘O eine neu zu schaffende Deutsche Oper! Auf Menschlichem Grund und Boden; mit Menschlicher Musik und Deklamation und Verzierung, aber mit Empfindung, Empfindung; o grosser Zweck! großes Werk!’ (‘O, a German opera to be created anew! on a human foundation and basis; with human music and declamation and embellishment, but with feeling, feeling; o grand purpose! grand task!’). ‘Ueber die Oper’, Herder, Sämtliche Werke, IV, pp.483-486 (p.484), Bauman, North German Opera, p.150. Although written in his Journal meiner Reise im Jahr 1769, it was not published until 1846. 81 To highlight the current desecration of poetry and music, Herder also sarcastically presented a sample from the latest German opera, an overture and six scenes, entitled ‘Olla Potrida’. Herder, Sämtliche Werke, XXIII, pp.335-343. For Herder’s criticism of Mozart, see Chapter Two. 82 The most extensive study on Goethe and the musical theater to date is Tina Hartmann, Goethes Musiktheater. Singspiele, Opern, Festspiele, ‘Faust’ (Tübingen: Niemeyer, 2004). Prologue 39

1775, Goethe moved to Weimar, where Duchess Anna Amalia herself provided a musical setting of Goethe’s libretto (performed under Goethe’s direction in 1776).83 In his later libretti, Goethe moved away from the models of the comic Singspiel, experimenting with various solutions. During his Italian journey (1786-1788), Goethe’s encounter with opera buffa prompted him to considerably revise his earlier Singspiele Erwin und Elmire and Claudine von Villa Bella.84 The complexity and high literary ambitions of Goethe’s revised libretti did not make them any easier to set to music, and only Johann Friedrich Reichardt (1752-1814), the Royal Prussian Court Kapellmeister, took up the challenge, beginning with Claudine von Villa Bella (1789), for which, however, he changed the recitatives back into spoken dialogue. In Erwin und Elmire (1790), Reichardt would create the first through-composed German opera by setting accompanied recitative throughout, but it was even less successful than Claudine had been and no full production of it was ever staged. More successful was Reichardt’s setting of Jery und Bätely (1791-1793), which resembled the typical Singspiel with spoken dialogue and songs more than Goethe’s other libretti; it remained in the Berlin repertoire until 1821 and was also regularly performed at Weimar.85 In 1801, E. T. A. Hoffmann adapted Goethe’s four-act Scherz, List, und Rache into a one-act Singspiel. His composition was performed by Doebbelin’s company in Posen several times, and the novelist Jean Paul (Johann Paul Friedrich Richter) sent the score to Goethe, relaying Reichardt’s recommendation.86 Goethe’s interest in opera and particularly opera buffa was rooted in its anti-mimetic qualities. Opera demonstrated that art did not have to imitate

83 For a discussion of Anna Amalia’s musical setting, as well as others, see Bauman, North German Opera, pp.152-168. 84 Among other changes, he added a second pair of lovers, cut back on sentimental or moralizing scenes, and rewrote the dialogues as versified recitative. For an analysis of the differences between the old and new versions and their implications, see Krämer, I, pp.467-507. 85 For Reichardt’s settings of Goethe’s libretti see Hartmann, pp.247-252 and Rolf Pröpper, Die Bühnenwerke Johann Friedrich Reichardts (1752-1814), 2 vols (Bonn: Bouvier, 1965), I: Textteil, pp.74-106; II: Werkverzeichnis, pp.87-111. 86 Goethe’s opinion on the work is unknown, but at some point he returned the score to Hoffmann. According to Hoffmann, the score and all of the parts were destroyed by a fire. E. T. A. Hoffmann in Aufzeichnungen seiner Freunde und Bekannten. Eine Sammlung von Friedrich Schnapp (Munich: Winkler, 1974), pp.68, 737-739. On Goethe’s libretto and its difficulties for musical composition, see Krämer, I, pp.508- 519, and Hartmann, pp.155-183. Other composers providing a musical setting at the time were Goethe’s friend Philipp Christoph Kayser (1787, first performed in 1993 [!]), and Peter Winter (Munich, 1790). 40 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera nature or reality but created an autonomous artistic world of its own.87 Goethe shared this conviction with Friedrich Schiller (1759-1805), who also emphasized that opera as a non-imitative art could function as a model for spoken drama.88 Schiller was not greatly interested in opera as an art form in and of itself and did not try his hand at writing libretti; rather, he felt that opera could guide the way to reforming tragedy and liberating it from naturalistic depiction. Inspired by both ancient Greek tragedy and Gluck’s opere serie, Schiller introduced a chorus into his tragedy Die Braut von Messina (Weimar, 1803) that dominates the play and calls attention to its artificiality.89 Five months later, on 9 September 1803, a letter entitled Schreiben eines Klostergeistlichen an seinen Freund in der Hauptstadt (Letter from a Monk to his Friend in the Capital) appeared in the Berlin newspaper Der Freimüthige.90 In the letter, a monk ironically referred to the wise men in Weimar who had apparently been able to reconstruct the ancient Greek chorus, an undertaking he had failed to achieve despite all his efforts. After probing questions to his addressee, Theodor, concerning the instrumental accompaniment, the use of masks and buskins, and the chorus’ effect on the audience, he jokingly suggested accompanying Schiller’s Wallenstein with the tragic bass flute (tibia dextra) and Kotzebue’s comedies with the comic descant flutes (tibia serrana). The letter’s anonymous author (signed ‘G. D.’) was E. T. A. Hoffmann.91 Hoffmann’s first publication already reveals features typical of many of his later contributions: criticism clad in a letter or other fictional form, an ironic tone, and a judgment based on close study of

87 Johann Wolfgang Goethe, ‘Über Wahrheit und Wahrscheinlichkeit der Kunstwerke. Ein Gespräch’, Sämtliche Werke nach Epochen seines Schaffens. Münchner Ausgabe, ed. by Karl Richter, 21 vols (Munich: Hanser, 1985-1998), IV/2: Wirkungen der Französischen Revolution 1791-1797, ed. by Klaus H. Kiefer and others (1986), pp.89-95. (This edition is henceforth cited as MA.) 88 See Schiller’s letter to Goethe from Jena, 29 December 1797, in Der Briefwechsel zwischen Schiller und Goethe, ed. by Hans Gerhard Gräf and Albert Leitzmann, 3 vols (Leipzig: Insel, 1912), I: 1794-1797, p.460. 89 Joshua Billings, ‘Schiller and Opera’, Oxford German Studies, 38: 1 (2009), 29-43 (pp.38-42). 90 Der Freimüthige, oder Berlinische Zeitung für gebildete, unbefangene Leser, ed. by August von Kotzebue, no. 144 (9 September 1803), 573-574. Reprinted in Schriften zur Musik, pp.13-16. 91 In his first published piece, Hoffmann revealed his musico-theatrical experience by having his monk assert that several people declaiming their lines on stage together would make a poor impression if the lines were not sung and accompanied by instruments, as in ancient Greece. Hoffmann would return to this topic and call such experiments a great misconception in a letter to Count Julius von Soden on 23 April 1808, in which he commented on Adrien Quaisin’s melodrama ‘Le Jugement de Salomon’. Schriften zur Musik, pp.17-19 (p.19). Prologue 41 the topic, as well as practical considerations regarding its effect on the audience.

The National Theater Projects

The second half of the eighteenth century had seen a growing consciousness of a shared identity based on common language and customs among intellectual circles in the German-speaking territories, which in turn nurtured efforts to create a German literature and theater. These efforts had gone hand in hand with the emergence of the print media, where these issues of ‘national spirit’ and ‘national character’ could be discussed.92 Music and musical drama played an increasingly-important role in all of these developments. While Gottsched had pleaded for opera’s disappearance as being highly beneficial for the improvement of the German theater in the first half of the eighteenth century, musical theater gained model status as the turn of the nineteenth century approached. Continuous warfare, and in particular the Seven Years’ War, caused many disruptions and setbacks, however; not just for the German theater companies but especially also for court theaters, as many courts were brought close to financial ruin. In the 1770s, during a longer period of peace in Europe, several rulers in residential cities took the initiative of founding a ‘Hof- und National Theater’, thus institutionalizing the developing national consciousness.93 Such an institution had been envisioned by intellectuals such as Wieland, and Hamburg had taken the lead with a private enterprise, which, despite its failure, inspired the foundation of a series of new National Theaters, partly subsidized by the courts: Vienna (1776), Munich (1778), Mannheim (1777/1779), Bonn (1779), Berlin (1786), and Mainz (1788). For the aristocratic rulers, subsidizing the newly-established National Theaters was

92 For the concept of ‘nation’ as a mental construct and a topic of multiple discourses rather than as result of an inevitable historical process, see Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities (London: verso, 2006). Recent studies concerning nationalism in a German/Austrian context largely subscribe to this view; see, among others, Zur diskursiven Konstruktion nationaler Identität, ed. by Ruth Wodak (Frankfurt: Suhrkamp, 1998); Searching for Common Ground. Diskurse zur deutschen Identität 1750-1871, ed. by Nicholas Vazsonyi (Cologne: Böhlau, 2000); Peter Höyng, Die Sterne, die Zensur und das Vaterland. Geschichte und Theater im späten 18. Jahrhundert (Cologne: Böhlau, 2003). 93 See Peter Höyng, ‘“Was ist Nationalschaubühne im eigentlichsten Verstande?” – Thesen über die Nationaltheater im späten 18. Jahrhundert als Ort eines National- Diskurses’, in Searching for Common Ground, pp.209-225; also see Höyng, Die Sterne, die Zensur und das Vaterland, p.152. 42 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera very attractive, as their expenses were only a fraction of what they had had to pay for their own Italian opera, French theater, and ballet. By partly subsidizing a National Theater and engaging native actors and singers at much lower wages than their foreign counterparts, the rulers could cut expenses considerably while at the same time reaching a larger audience and maintaining a decisive influence on the repertoire. The National Theaters thus offered the sovereigns a new, low-cost vehicle in which to represent themselves as caring ‘Vater des Volks’, who generously supported the cultural efforts of their people. As public institutions, the National Theaters on the other hand offered members of the middle class the opportunity to be represented on the theater boards and to further their vision of the theater as a ‘moral institution’, teaching virtues to both actors and the audience, and building an honorable, principled community.94 In contrast to the earlier Hamburg enterprise, opera and Singspiel became increasingly important in the National Theaters’ repertoire, partially because of the influence of the nobility involved in the enterprises and partially due to the popularity of musical theater for the audiences. The National Theaters had to appeal to a much more varied audience than the private, invitation-only court theaters did. The repertoire was broadened accordingly and was dominated increasingly by comic works, at the expense of tragedies. One-third of all productions were musical works, and in cities such as Vienna, with a strong royal or aristocratic influence, most of the staged works were operas.95 It was not only the need to fill the house and to make the enterprise profitable, however, that sparked interest in musical productions. Although many rulers had dismissed their French actors, Italian opera remained the unchallenged dominant theatrical genre at most courts. The National Theaters thus felt most pressured in this area and searched for something to

94 The fact that the influence of bourgeois values in a still-strong feudal society was rather limited is discussed in: Reinhart Meyer, ‘Das Nationaltheater in Deutschland als höfisches Institut. Versuch einer Begriffs- und Funktionsbestimmung’, in Das Ende des Stegreifspiels – Die Geburt des Nationaltheaters. Ein Wendepunkt in der Geschichte des europäischen Dramas, ed. by Roger Bauer and Jürgen Wertheimer (Munich: Fink, 1983), pp.124-152 (reprinted in Meyer, Schriften zur Theater- und Kulturgeschichte, pp.125-156); Ute Daniel, Hoftheater. Zur Geschichte des Theaters und der Höfe im 18. und 19. Jahrhundert (Stuttgart: Klett-Cotta, 1995), pp.148-152. 95 For exact figures on developments in the repertoire of the German stage, see Reinhart Meyer, ‘Der Anteil des Singspiels und der Oper am Repertoire der deutschen Bühnen in der zweiten Hälfte des 18. Jahrhunderts’, in Das deutsche Singspiel im 18. Jahrhundert. Colloquium der Arbeitsstelle 18. Jahrhundert, Gesamthochschule Wuppertal, Universität Münster (Heidelberg: Winter, 1981), pp.27-76. Reprinted in Meyer, Schriften zur Theater- und Kulturgeschichte, pp.341-400. Prologue 43 counterbalance Italian opera. Germany’s increasing cultural self-awareness made the search for such a German alternative all the more compelling. Music, moreover, was seen as more effective in reaching the hearts and minds of the audience than the spoken word alone, and presenting musical works therefore fit into the educational mission of the National Theaters. The two most prominent National Theaters, both founded in 1776-1777, were those in Mannheim and Vienna, which will be discussed first before we turn to Berlin’s National Theater, which became increasingly important at the turn of the century.

Mannheim

As at all self-respecting courts, Mannheim was home to Italian opera, French theater, and French ballet.96 The ‘Kurfürstliches Opernhaus’ was opened with great fanfare on 17 January 1742 and was one of the most prestigious in the German territories. The court orchestra in particular had earned international acclaim, and the ensemble boasted singers such as tenor Anton Raaff (the first Idomeneo) and bass Ludwig Fischer (for whom Mozart would compose the role of Osmin in his Entführung aus dem Serail). Starting in 1753, Ignaz Holzbauer (1711-1783) was the opera’s Kapellmeister. In the winter season performances took place in Mannheim, while during the summer season operas were performed in the court opera at Schwetzingen. Here the repertoire was more varied, and included opera buffa.97 After the Seven Years’ War, it became increasingly difficult to finance opera, theater, and ballet and in 1770, the French theater company was dismissed. Prince Elector Carl Theodor ordered the arsenal in the city to be transformed into a National Theater, which should eventually finance itself through ticket sales, and also called for the establishment of an educational institution to train local actors. For the opening of the new theater, Carl Theodor commissioned Anton Klein and his Kapellmeister Holzbauer to write a heroic opera on a theme from German history. One of the inspirations for the creation of a German opera came from Wieland and

96 In 1753, Elector Carl Theodor invited Voltaire to Mannheim and for the next decade, Voltaire would be closely involved in selecting the repertoire for and staging the Mannheim performances. His Olympie, which was written for Schwetzingen and dedicated to Carl Theodor, premièred there on 30 September 1762. Kindermann, Theatergeschichte Europas, IV, pp.685, 687. 97 Bärbel Pelker, ‘Zur Struktur des Musiklebens am Hof Carl Theodors in Mannheim’, in Mozart und Mannheim. Kongreßbericht Mannheim 1991, ed. by Ludwig Finscher, Bärbel Pelker, and Jochen Reutter (Frankfurt am Main: Lang, 1994), pp.29-40 (p.38). 44 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Schweitzer’s Alceste, which had been performed in Schwetzingen in 1775 and subsequently became part of the repertoire of the Mannheim court opera. Klein and Holzbauer’s new opera, Günther von Schwarzburg, premièred at the Mannheim court on 5 January 1777, as the conversion of the National Theater building was not yet ready.98 The drama centers on the succession- related conflict involving the Holy Roman Emperor in 1349, in which Elector Rudolf II, an ancestor of Carl Theodor, played an important part. Accordingly, the opera was also a clear eulogistic reference to the Prince Elector. This was not uncommon in serious opera, but as Silke Leopold has pointed out, the way in which the rulers were portrayed was new: ‘What Günther von Schwarzburg and Prince Elector Rudolf do, they do in the name of the people and for a fatherland that needs to be united’.99 Such references to ‘Volk’ and ‘Vaterland’ had not been heard on an operatic stage before and point to a new self-representation on the part of the ruling elite. The ideological emphasis on the fatherland is underscored by the fact that the scenery called for images from early German history and German emperors.100 The characters in the opera were limited to royalty, and Klein opted for the typical Metastasian division into three acts. Holzbauer’s virtuosic and complex music was typical of Italian opera seria, and lacked any of the singable and natural qualities that had made the Singspiel so popular. Despite great expectations, Günther von Schwarzburg remained a rather isolated phenomenon, partly due to its close ties to the Mannheim court, and partly to the music, which could not easily be performed by traveling companies.101 The ambitions of Mannheim’s National Theater were further evidenced by the theater’s inviting Lessing to become its dramatic advisor. Lessing did in fact come to Mannheim but left after six weeks, displeased with the

98 Krämer, I, p.362. 99 See Silke Leopold, ‘The Idea of National Opera, c.1800’, in Unity and Diversity in European Culture c. 1800, ed. by Tim Blanning and Hagen Schulze (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006), pp.19-33 (p.28). 100 Krämer, I, pp.369, 370. The work’s status as a model for all Germans is further evidenced by the audience at the première, where almost thirty royal persons, as well as a large delegation of Frankfurt merchants, were present. Helga Lühning, ‘Das Theater Carl Theodors und die Idee der Nationaloper’, in Mozart und Mannheim, pp.89-99 (p.96). Holzbauer apparently also considered his opera exemplary, given that he published the full score, which was highly unusual for opera. Günther von Schwarzburg was the first German opera score ever published. Krämer, I, p.361. 101 This might be one explanation as to why neither Wieland’s Teutscher Merkur nor the Allgemeine Deutsche Bibliothek, which reviewed many libretti for Singspiel and opera, reviewed the new opera. Krämer assumes that there was also some fear of competition on Wieland’s part. Krämer, I, p.362 fn.42. Prologue 45 provincial nature of the undertaking.102 In 1777, the ‘Churfürstliches Hof- und Nationaltheater’ succeeded in attracting Prinzipal Theobald Marchand (1741-1800) as its director. His company’s repertoire included drama, ballet, and French opéra comique in translation. Upon the death of Elector Maximilian I of Bavaria, the succession went to Carl Theodor and, in 1778 he moved his court to Munich, taking his opera ensemble and orchestra, his ballet, and Marchand’s company with him.103 Baron Wolfgang Heribert von Dalberg (1750-1806), who had close ties to the court and was concerned that Mannheim would become a cultural desert, convinced Carl Theodor that a German theater was quite affordable, stimulated tourism, and would be beneficial for the city’s social and economic welfare, leading in turn to higher tax revenues, whereupon he received permission to open a new National Theater.104 Dalberg attracted the Seyler company to Mannheim, and after the closure of the court theater at Gotha in 1779, he was able to engage many of its first-rate actors, including the young August Wilhelm Iffland (1759-1814). Dalberg, who soon took over the theater’s direction from Seyler, premièred a new play by the young playwright Friedrich Schiller, Die Räuber, on 13 January 1782, with Iffland in the role of Franz Moor. In 1783, Dalberg engaged Schiller as resident dramatist to the Mannheim National Theater, and the following year he staged Schiller’s Fiesko and his bourgeois tragedy Kabale und Liebe (Intrigue and Love). On 26 June 1784, Schiller delivered an address to the German Society of the Palatinate in Mannheim entitled ‘Was kann eine gute stehende Schaubühne eigentlich wirken?’ (‘What can a good standing theater actually accomplish?’)105 In his address, Schiller emphasized the Enlightenment view

102 ‘Mit einem deutschen Nationaltheater ist es lauter Wind [...]’ he would write to his brother Karl on 25 May 1777. (Lessing, Werke und Briefe, XII: Briefe von und an Lessing 1776-1781, ed. by Helmuth Kiesel and others (1994), p.79. The National Theater seemed to be more a way to cut costs than to promote a national German theater. Lühning, ‘Das Theater Carl Theodors’, p.91; Meyer, Schriften zur Theater- und Kulturgeschichte, p.134. 103 Carl Theodor had the ‘National-Schaubühne’ in Munich open with a German opera, although it was not Günther von Schwarzburg but Wieland and Schweitzer’s Alceste. The fact that Carl Theodor invested in Italian opera again after his move to Munich reveals that his interest in German opera in Mannheim was primarily financially motivated, rather than inspired by a patriotic agenda. Krämer, I, pp.358, 363. 104 Meyer, Schriften zur Theater- und Kulturgeschichte, p.138. 105 Friedrich Schiller, ‘Was kann eine gute stehende Schaubühne eigentlich wirken?’ (originally published in March 1785 in the first and only issue of his Reihnische Thalia), in Schiller, Sämtliche Werke, ed. by Herbert Georg Göpfert, Peter-André Alt and others, 5 vols (Munich: Hanser, 2004), V: Erzählungen. Theoretische Schriften, ed. by Wolfgang Riedel, pp.818-831. In 1802 Schiller republished the text (with some

46 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera of the theater’s moral function:106 ‘Die Schaubühne ist der gemeinschaftliche Kanal, in welchen von dem denkenden bessern Teile des Volks das Licht der Weisheit herunterströmt und von da aus in milderen Strahlen durch den ganzen Staat sich verbreitet’. (‘The stage is the communal canal from which the light of wisdom gently streams down from the better, thinking part of the nation, pervading the entire state’.)107 More effective than any decrees, sermons, or laws, the theater could reach the hearts and minds of people of all classes. In contrast to Lessing, Schiller was more optimistic about the theater’s potential to advance cultural integration: ‘Unmöglich kann ich hier den großen Einfluß übergehen, den eine gute stehende Bühne auf den Geist der Nation haben würde’. (‘I cannot overlook the great influence which a good firmly-established theatre would have on the nation’s spirit’.) He went on to define national spirit as being the public spirit of a community, a commonality of opinions and proclivities in matters that differs from other communities, and concluded: ‘[...] mit einem Wort, wenn wir es erlebten, eine Nationalbühne zu haben, so würden wir auch eine Nation’. (‘[...] if we would see the day when we have a national theatre, then we would become a nation’.)108 Dalberg did not renew Schiller’s contract as resident writer out of political precaution and Schiller left for Leipzig, where he found a supporter in Christian Gottfried Körner.109 Beginning in 1789, the Mannheim repertoire was enriched by comedies of August von Kotzebue (1761-1819) and operas imported from Vienna, most notably, in September 1789, Mozart’s Don Juan (Don Giovanni), and a month later, on 24 October, Die Hochzeit des Figaro (Le Nozze di Figaro), a performance at which Mozart himself was present. According to Dalberg, this influx of high-quality musical theater also had a beneficial impact on spoken drama; since it forced the company to engage highly-paid professional opera singers and acquire

changes) under the title ‘Die Schaubühne als eine moralische Anstalt betrachtet’ (‘A Consideration of Theater as a Moral Institution’). 106 Lessing was convinced that through empathy, people could be morally improved. Gotthold Ephraim Lessing, ‘Briefwechsel über das Trauerspiel’, in Lessing, Werke und Briefe in zwölf Bänden, III: Werke 1754-1757, ed. by Conrad Wiedemann and others (2003), pp.662-736 (p.671). 107 Schiller, Sämtliche Werke, V, p.828; Michael J. Sosulski, Theater and Nation in Eighteenth- Century Germany (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2007), p.58. 108 Schiller, Sämtliche Werke, V, p.830. Translation presented in Joep Leerssen, National Thought in Europe. A Cultural History (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006), p.96. 109 Christian Gottfried Körner (1756-1831) would later prepare the first collected edition of Schiller’s works (12 vols, Stuttgart, 1812-1815) as well as the publication of his son’s (soldier poet Theodor Körner (1791-1813)) literary estate in 1815. Prologue 47 lavish decorations and costumes, it also raised expectations for other genres, and thus theater standards in general.110 The flood of refugees from France after the French Revolution also added a new and demanding audience to the theater. With the approach of French troops, however, a period of great uncertainty began, during which the theater had to close several times. When in 1796 King Friedrich Wilhelm II of Prussia offered Iffland the post as director of the National Theater in Berlin, Iffland opted to leave for Berlin. Dalberg would resign from Mannheim’s theater in 1802, but the legacy of the theater’s achievements continued in the Prussian capital under Iffland’s direction.

Vienna

For a century and a half, from the mid-seventeenth to the early nineteenth century, Italian opera was the musical lingua franca of the elite in the capital of the Habsburg Empire. During this period, librettists and composers residing in Vienna composed around 600 Italian operas for the city’s imperial theaters, which were also open to the public: the Kärntnertortheater (1709) and the Burgtheater (1741).111 The Burgtheater, also called the French theater, was smaller but more prestigious, and presented French plays, opéra comique and ballet. The Kärntnertortheater was home to German troupes, and therefore was also called the German theater.112 During his superintendency of the court theaters from 1754-

110 Kindermann, Theatergeschichte Europas, IV, p.716. 111 Meyer, Schriften zur Theater- und Kulturgeschichte, p.430. The court poets were Nicolò Minato (1627-1698), Donato Cupeda (1661-1704), Silvio Stampiglia (1664-1725), who, in 1814, was joined by Pietro Pariati (1665-1733). Apostolo Zeno (1668-1750), Stampiglia’s successor, recommended Metastasio and from 1729 to his death in 1782, Metastasio was court poet to three Habsburg Emperors, Karl VI, Franz I, and Joseph II (Meyer, Schriften zur Theater- und Kulturgeschichte, pp.591-592). Among the most prolific court composers were Antonio Draghi (1634-1700), Antonio Caldara (1670-1736), Christoph Willibald Gluck (1714-1787), and Antonio Salieri (1750- 1825). For an extensive history of Viennese theaters, see: Franz Hadamowsky, Wien. Theatergeschichte. Von den Anfängen bis zum Ende des Ersten Weltkriegs (Vienna: Jugend und Volk, 1988). 112 Inspired by the commedia dell’arte, Josef Anton Stranitzky (1676–1726) had created a typical Viennese version of Hanswurst, finding a permanent home for his extemporizations in 1711, when he leased the Kärntnertortheater. Stranitzky primarily adapted Italian and French operas, into which he incorporated the ‘lustige Person’ or Hanswurst. 48 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

1764, Count Giacomo Durazzo exposed the audience to a rich repertoire of opéra comique, opera buffa, opera seria, ballet, and reform operas by Gluck and Tommaso Traetta (1727-1779). After the death of Emperor Franz I in 1765, Empress Maria Theresa leased the theaters to several impresarios, and during the following decade, opera buffa emerged as the most important operatic genre in Vienna, as it was more popular and cheaper to produce than opera seria. One of the most prominent composers in the genre was Florian Leopold Gassmann (1729-1774), who was appointed operatic music director in 1766 and Hofkapellmeister in 1772. After his death in 1774, his student and assistant Antonio Salieri assumed the post of operatic music director and, in 1788, that of Hofkapellmeister. When the leaseholder of the two court theaters declared bankruptcy in 1776, Emperor Joseph II placed the theater management under direct court supervision, dismissed the opera buffa and ballet troupes, and transformed the Burgtheater into a National Theater.113 Supporting German-language theater fit well into his agenda of increasing efficiency by stimulating the use of German in schools, churches and the government, of saving money, and of bringing the nobility, who

113 This decision resulted from developments over the previous decades. As with Gottsched in Leipzig, a movement aiming to uplift German theater had likewise evolved in Vienna. Joseph Freiherr von Sonnenfels (1732-1817), professor of cameralistics and member of various government commissions, including one on censorship, was elected chairman of the German Literary Society in Vienna in 1761. In 1765, he began publishing a weekly titled Der Mann ohne Vorurteil (The Man without Prejudice), in which he put matters of literary criticism and interpretation before the public. Sonnenfels strongly believed that the theater could be converted into an educational institution and he severely criticized what was, in his view, the excessive influence of French taste on German theater. Between 1767 and 1769, in the footsteps of Lessing’s Hamburgische Dramaturgie, he provided a running commentary on Viennese theatrical productions in his Briefe über die Wienerische Schaubühne. The greatest obstacle to the morally-uplifting mission of the theater Sonnenfels saw in the Hanswurst, thus intensifying the so-called Hanswurststreit. (Extemporizing had already been restricted by censorship measures under Maria Theresa in 1752.) Sonnenfels also pleaded for a German National Theater, and in 1770 turned to Joseph II with an appeal for a theater liberated from burlesque comedy as well as influences from foreign court traditions. The Emperor extended the proposed censorship measures to the theater and banished improvised comedy. W. E. Yates, Theatre in Vienna: A Critical History, 1776-1995 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), pp.8-15. For more on Sonnenfels, see Robert A. Kann, A Study in Austrian Intellectual History: From Late Baroque to Romanticism (New York: Octagon Books, 1973), pp.146-258. Prologue 49 preferred French theater and Italian opera, more under the authority of the central government.114 Two years later, in 1778, Joseph reinstalled an operatic company at the court theater, although this time not for Italian opera but to perform opera in the vernacular. The National-Singspiel was inaugurated with Ignaz Umlauf’s one-act opera Die Bergknappen (The Miners) on 17 February 1778 at the Burgtheater.115 It consisted of short, simple songs, arias in buffa style, and a vaudeville at the end. Repertoire proved to be a difficult obstacle for the new undertaking. As not enough original German works were available, German translations of successful opéras comiques and opere buffe filled the program. In honor of the Grand Duke Paul Petrovich of Russia during his visit, the National-Singspiel, enhanced with some excellent singers from Italy, staged Gluck’s Iphigénie en Tauride in German translation, under Gluck’s personal supervision, as well as Alceste in Italian. Finding good German singers was another challenge for the National-Singpiel, as the pool was small and most Italian singers sang with overly-marked accents.116 The principal soprano, who was to sing leading roles in Vienna for a decade and a half, was Caterina Cavalieri (Catharina Magdalena Josepha Cavalier, 1755- 1801), trained in the Italian style by Antonio Salieri. In 1780, an excellent tenor and bass, Valentin Adamberger (ca. 1740-1804) and Ludwig Fischer, joined the company. It was their voices that Mozart had in mind when composing what turned out to be the most successful opera of the Viennese National-Singspiel endeavor, Die Entführung aus dem Serail (The Abduction from the Seraglio). Its première took place on 16 July 1782 at the Burgtheater, with Cavalieri as Constanze, Adamberger as Belmonte, and Fischer as Osmin. The libretto had been written earlier by Christoph Friedrich Bretzner in Leipzig (Belmont und Constanze, oder die Entführung aus dem Serail, 1781) and set to music by André in Berlin; it was, however, Mozart’s version that would conquer the German stage. This was symptomatic of a wider trend in which Viennese opera began to overshadow and supersede other Singspiel compositions across the German territories. Much more cosmopolitan in nature, the new Viennese Singspiel typically moved away from the central role of the Lied, modeling itself after Italian opera buffa and French opéra comique. Mozart’s Entführung clearly demonstrates the difference from the older Singspiel. Revisions of the libretto were undertaken by Johann Gottlieb

114 John A. Rice, Antonio Salieri and Viennese Opera (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1998), pp.241-242. 115 Ignaz Umlauf (1746-1796), a student of Salieri’s, was appointed Kapellmeister of the National-Singspiel, a post for which Mozart, Schweitzer, and Benda, among others, had also applied. Krämer, I, p.397 fn.4. 116 Rice, Antonio Salieri and Viennese Opera, pp.284-286. 50 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Stephanie the Younger (1741-1800), the director of the National-Singspiel, who had offered Bretzner’s libretto to Mozart. The Viennese version considerably increases the role of music, as is immediately evident from the larger number of arias, ensemble pieces, and through-composed finali, and favors recitative over prose at emotionally-decisive moments.117 The music also gains in importance on another level, as the conflicts are presented and developed in the music and no longer in spoken dialogue. The music neither imitates nor illustrates the action but shapes it with its own means.118 Mozart’s letters to his father during his collaboration with Stephanie reveal the composer’s decisive role in all of these changes. In one of these letters, Mozart also reflects on the relation between poetry and music in opera: ‘bey einer opera muß schlechterdings die Poesie der Musick gehorsame Tochter seyn’. (‘In an opera the poetry absolutely must be the obedient daughter of the music’.)119 The words, he continued, should be written solely for the music and not for the sake of some rhyme. Stephanie proved to be a useful collaborator in achieving Mozart’s goals. In the collected edition of his German comic operas (1792), Stephanie added a preface in which he bemoaned the lack of good libretti and good singers and offered a framework for writing an effective libretto that addressed, for example, the

117 An overview of the musical items in Bretzner’s libretto as compared to the Viennese version can be found in Thomas Bauman, W. A. Mozart. Die Entführung aus dem Serail (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987), pp.14-15. 118 In Bretzner’s original libretto, a good example is found in the beginning, where Osmin’s strophic song follows Belmonte’s prose monologue, whereupon they get into a word fight in spoken dialogue as Belmonte wants to enter the palace and Osmin bars his way. Mozart’s opera, on the other hand, opens with an ariette for Belmonte, and Osmin’s song leads into a musical duet as Belmonte intrudes into Osmin’s song, just as he intends to intrude into the palace. For more examples of how Mozart’s music shapes the drama and the characters, see, among others, Krämer, I, pp.411-464 and Bauman, W. A. Mozart. Die Entführung aus dem Serail, pp.62-98. Krämer also points out how the end of the opera is changed to emphasize the clemency of the sovereign. While in Bretzner’s libretto Belmonte turns out to be Bassa Selim’s lost son, the opera ends, in the spirit of the Empfindsamkeit, with a happy family reunion. For the imperial theater, this solution was not suitable: Belmonte now turns out to be the son of Bassa Selim’s worst enemy, which only makes his clemency at the end more astounding, and of an almost divine nature. Krämer, I, pp.424-426. 119 Letter to his father, 13 October 1781 in Mozart. Briefe und Aufzeichnungen. Gesamtausgabe, ed. by Internationale Stiftung Mozarteum Salzburg. Gesammelt und erläutert von Wilhelm A. Bauer and Otto Erich Deutsch, 7 vols (Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1962-1975), III: 1780-1786 (1963), pp.166-168 (p.167). Translations of excerpts of the letter are easily accessible, e.g., Warrack, German Opera, p.154. Prologue 51 appropriate number of arias and ensembles, their placing in the drama, and their division among the singers.120 The National-Singspiel experiment came to an end in 1783, when the Emperor reinstalled an Italian opera buffa company at the Burgtheater, reinstated Salieri as operatic music director, and attracted two new librettists, Lorenzo Da Ponte (1749-1838) and Giambattista Casti (1724-1803). The composers commissioned to provide the music were Salieri, Mozart, and Vicente Martín y Soler (1754-1806).121 Between 1785 and 1788 a brief second experiment with German Singspiel was undertaken at the Kärntnertortheater, where works by, among others, Carl Ditters von Dittersdorf (1739-1799) gained great popularity.122 The most important and long-lasting contribution to German opera came some years later not ‘from above’, as reformers such as Wieland, Herder, Schiller, or the proponents of a National Theater had envisioned, but from below; that is from the suburban theaters where Viennese popular comedy and Singspiel had been banned. Ironically, these developments were the outcome of Joseph’s cultural politics as well. As part of his theater reform of 1776, the Emperor had declared the so-called ‘Spektakelfreiheit’ or ‘Schauspielfreiheit’, which broke the monopoly of the court theaters and allowed privately-run theaters in the suburbs. Three important theaters offering popular comedies, musical theater, and pantomime arose: the Theater in der Leopoldstadt (1781), the Theater auf der Wieden (1787), and the Theater in der Josefstadt (1788). While the Theater in der Leopoldstadt became home of the tremendously-popular Viennese ‘Kasperle’ (Johann La Roche, 1745-1806),123 comic actor and impresario Emanuel Schikaneder (1751-1812) entertained his audiences in the Theater auf der Wieden with the so-called ‘Zauberoper’ (fairy tale or magic opera), starting with the première of Paul Wranitzky’s (1756-1808) Oberon in 1789. The genre

120 Renate Schusky, Das deutsche Singspiel im 18. Jahrhundert. Quellen und Zeugnisse zu Ästhetik und Rezeption (Bonn: Bouvier, 1980), pp.91-97. 121 Rice, Antonio Salieri and Viennese Opera, p.331. Da Ponte’s collaboration with Mozart resulted in three opere buffe: Le Nozze di Figaro (Vienna, 1786) Don Giovanni (Prague, 1787) and Così fan tutte (Vienna, 1789-1790). For Martín y Soler, Da Ponte provided the libretto for, among others, Una cosa rara (Vienna, 1786) and L’arbore di Diana (Vienna, 1787), and among the six libretti for Salieri, Axur (Vienna, 1787-1788) was the most successful. 122 The most successful was his Doktor und Apotheker (1786) on a libretto by Johann Gottlieb Stephanie the Younger. Mozart had already predicted the failure of the endeavor before it had even begun, due to the incompetence of the directors and the use of actors rather than singers. Letter to Anton Klein (21 May 1785), Mozart. Briefe und Aufzeichnungen, III, p.393. 123 A descendant of the Hanswurst, who had been banned from the court theaters. 52 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera culminated in Schikaneder’s collaboration with Mozart on Die Zauberflöte (The Magic Flute), which premièred on 30 September 1791 under Mozart’s direction, with Schikaneder as Papageno. The libretto is an amalgamation of remarkably heterogenous influences ranging from Egyptian and Greek myth, Oriental fairy tales, Freemason ideology, to exotic and magic elements, along with the ‘lustige Person’ typical of Viennese popular theater. It was clearly written with an eye on theatrical effects, for which it also counts on elaborate stage machinery. Most importantly, it leaves room for the music to unfold. Mozart’s music merges musical devices from opera seria, opera buffa, Singspiel, melodrama and instrumental forms. While the consistency and plausibility of the plot is questionable, it is the musical structures (among others, two extensive interconnected finali) that carry the action, provide unity, and bring about a convincing solution.124 Due to the overwhelming success of Die Zauberflöte, Schikaneder followed up with a sequel, Das Labyrinth, which Peter Winter (1754-1825) set to music (1798). It was less successful than the opera that Winter had composed two years earlier to a libretto by Franz Xaver Huber, Das unterbrochene Opferfest (The Interrupted Sacrifice), and which would contribute to his international reputation.125 Die Zauberflöte, while inspiring contemporaries and enhancing the prestige of German opera, remained a one-of-a-kind masterstroke; given its exotic and eclectic qualities, it could hardly function as a model for the future of German opera. Die Zauberflöte’s success placed the court theaters under increased pressure to add German opera to their repertoire. After Joseph’s death, his successor Leopold II (1790-1792) italianized the opera’s repertoire and personnel by promoting Neapolitan opera buffa. In 1794, under Franz II,

124 For the distinctive role of the opera’s instrumental accompaniment for characters and coherence see Thomas Bauman, ‘At the North Gate: Instrumental Music in “Die Zauberflöte”’, in Daniel Heartz, Mozart’s Operas, ed., with contributing essays, by Thomas Bauman (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1990), pp.277-297. 125 Peter Winter had played as violinist in the Mannheim court orchestra, and had also led the singers of Marchand’s company. In 1778, he moved to Munich with the court, and during 1780-1781, he received a stipend to study with Salieri in Vienna. In 1798 Winter became Hofkapellmeister in Munich. Goethe, who had just become director of the Weimar court theater in 1791, performed Die Zauberflöte more often than any other opera in the adaptation (publ. 1794) of his future brother-in-law, the popular novelist Christian August Vulpius (1762-1827). Jane K. Brown, ‘“The Monstrous Rights of the Present”: Goethe and the Humanity of “Die Zauberflöte”’, The Opera Quarterly, 28: 1-2 (Winter-Spring 2012), 5-19 (p.7). Goethe also began working on a sequel and approached Wranitzky for a musical setting. Wranitzky, however, declined, anxious that his composition might be compared to Mozart’s. Goethe’s sequel Der Zauberflöte zweyter Theil would remain a fragment. Prologue 53 however, the theaters were leased to Baron Peter von Braun, who brought German opera back to the court theaters the following year. Braun engaged several German singers and appointed Franz Xaver Süssmayr (1766-1803) as music director in charge of German opera. The company performed older operas by, among others, Umlauf and Dittersdorf, as well as some highly popular new compositions, namely Johann Baptist Schenk’s Der Dorfbarbier (1796). Mozart’s operas returned to the court theaters in the late 1790s in German translation, as they were now presented as works by a German composer.126 Many German operas in the repertoire in fact were translations of French opéra comique, and after the Treaty of Lunéville in 1801 ended hostilities between France and Austria, French opera rapidly conquered the stages of Vienna. Among the most beloved were the operas by Luigi Cherubini (1760-1842), an Italian composer based in Paris, in particular his Les deux journées (The Two Days, or the Water Carrier, Paris, 1800), a rescue opera presenting a new kind of hero from the ordinary working class and enchanting its audiences with its brilliant orchestration. Cherubini’s Faniska exemplifies the international character of what was considered German opera at the time. The opera was written for Vienna and premièred in the Kärntnertortheater on 25 February 1806. The libretto that Cherubini had set was in Italian, which in turn was a translation from Guilbert de Pixerécourt’s melodrama Les Mines de Pologne (Paris, 1803). Joseph Sonnleithner, secretary of the Viennese court theaters, translated the Italian words of Cherubini’s opera into German, whereupon the opera was performed in German by a German cast. Joseph Sonnleithner had also been of service to Ludwig van Beethoven in preparing the libretto for his only opera, Fidelio. The libretto was based on Jean-Nicolas Bouilly’s Léonore ou L’amour conjugal (with music by Pierre Gaveaux, 1798), a rescue opera, in which a wife in disguise heroically imperils herself in order to free her husband from political imprisonment. Fidelio premièred unsuccessfully on 20 November 1805 in Schikaneder’s newly-built Theater an der Wien, shortly after Napoleon occupied Vienna. A second version, now in two acts, followed in 1806. After further major revisions were made to a reworked libretto by Georg Friedrich Treitschke the final version was performed in the Kärntnertortheater on 23 May 1814. This time, the opera was highly successful and has remained in the repertoire ever since. Building on elements of French opéra comique as well as Italian opera buffa (especially in its emphasis on the finale), Fidelio, too, remained a singular achievement; it was,

126 Die Hochzeit des Figaro and Don Juan in 1798, and Mädchentreue (Così fan tutte) in 1804. Mozart’s German operas Die Zauberflöte and Die Entführung were first staged at the Kärntnertortheater in 1801. Rice, Antonio Salieri and Viennese Opera, p.564. 54 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera moreover, one of the last representations of its genre, as rescue operas had long since lost their appeal. The Kapellmeister at the court theaters, Joseph Weigl (1766-1846) and Adalbert Gyrowetz (1763-1850), were responsible for providing new repertoire. Among Gyrowetz’s most popular operas were Agnes Sorel (1806) and Der Augenarzt (The Oculist, 1811), while Weigl contributed among others Das Waisenhaus (The Orphanage, 1808) and his most acclaimed opera, Die Schweizerfamilie (1809).127 On 1 January 1807, the Gesellschaft der Kavaliere (Association of Aristocrats), a group of art-loving nobles took over the direction of the two court theaters and of the Theater an der Wien, replacing Peter von Braun. Prince Franz Joseph Maximilian von Lobkowitz (1772-1816) assumed responsibility for opera performances, while Count Ferdinand Pálffy (1774-1840) took charge of spoken drama. Under the direction of the Kavaliere, some of Gluck’s French operas were revived in German translations, initially Iphigenie auf Tauris, followed by Armide, Iphigenie in Aulis (1808), and Alceste (1810). Despite such efforts, and despite the fact that Ferdinando Paer had departed for Dresden128 and Braun had dismissed the Italian company in 1806, Italian opera retained a strong presence on the Viennese stage. The introduction, in 1816, of Rossini’s operas only strengthened its popularity; a Rossini-rage erupted upon the composer’s move to Vienna in 1822, which would continue for some time after he left for London the following year.

Berlin

Shortly after ascending to the throne, King Frederick the Great had an opera house built ‘Unter den Linden’, in the heart of the city.129 He had learned to appreciate Italian opera in Dresden, and his own opera strove to compete with the splendor of Dresden’s court opera. The King appointed Carl Heinrich Graun (1704-1759) court Kapellmeister, and after Graun’s death, Johann Friedrich Agricola (1720-1774), a former student of Johann Sebastian Bach, assumed the post. The location in the city, rather than at the court, meant that Berliners were welcome to attend; special tickets, however,

127 John A. Rice, ‘German Opera in Vienna around 1800. Joseph Weigl and “Die Schweizer Familie”’, in Oper im Aufbruch, pp.313-322. 128 Ferdinando Paer (1771-1839) was Kapellmeister of the Kärntnertortheater between 1797 and 1801 and provided several Italian operas for the court theaters during this period. 129 It was built by architect Georg Wenzeslaus von Knobelsdorff (1699–1753) and officially opened on 7 December 1742. Prologue 55 were reserved for visitors and foreign diplomats and emissaries, a further indication of the opera’s most important function: repraesentatio maiestatis and acting as an expression of Frederick’s international aspirations.130 Frederick also engaged a French theater company and a French ballet and, in 1748, added an Italian opera buffa. The Seven Years’ War also had severe consequences for Berlin’s cultural life, however, and although theatrical activities at the court theaters resumed thereafter, they did not equal their earlier glory. Berlin soon also housed two private theaters: the theater at Monbijou presenting French plays and operas, and the Theater in der Behrenstraße for German repertoire. Koch acquired the Theater in der Behrenstrasse after his move to Berlin and introduced Hiller’s Singspiele to the Prussian capital. When he died in 1775, Carl Theophil Doebbelin (1727- 1793), after many years spent directing various traveling theater companies, was appointed director of Koch’s theater and with the appointment acquired a permanent stage in Berlin for his newly-formed dramatic company. Doebbelin’s aim was to promote original German drama and Singspiele, and to this end, he appointed composer Johann André as principal music director. André continued Hiller’s Singspiel style, and although some professional singers were added, most roles continued to be performed by actors who could also sing. In addition to works by André, Doebbelin’s company performed serious operas by Benda and Schweitzer, and French opéra comique in German translation. Beginning in 1783, successful works from the Viennese Burgtheater were also imported, but this could not stop the steady decline of Doebbelin’s enterprise, especially after André left the company in 1784. In the meantime, important changes had occurred at court; the Gluck- admirer Reichardt succeeded Agricola as royal Kapellmeister, taking charge of the opera. Frederick, however, refused to have Gluck performed on the stage, nor was he interested in the latest works from Italy. Unhappy with the situation, Reichardt turned his energies to traveling and writing.131 Bartolomeo Verona was put in charge of scenic design, and his decorations in Rococo style impressed audiences with their light, airy, and floating

130 Meyer, Schriften zur Theater und Kulturgeschichte, p.40; Claudia Terne, ‘Friedrich II. von Preußen und die Hofoper’, in Friedrich der Große und der Hof. Beiträge des zweiten Colloquiums in der Reihe ‘Friedrich300’ vom 10./11. Oktober 2008, ed. by Michael Kaiser and Jürgen Luh (Friedrich300 - Colloquien, 2). URL: http://www.perspectivia.net/content/publikationen/friedrich300-colloquien/ friedrich-hof/Terne_Hofoper (retrieved 25 October 2013.) 131 Reichardt had just authored two major publications: Briefe eines aufmerksamen Reisenden, die Musik betreffend (Frankfurt and Leipzig, 1774-1776) and Ueber die deutsche comische Oper (Hamburg, 1774). 56 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera appearance.132 Furthermore, Frederick had a new theater built at the Gendarmenmarkt for his French theater company. Soon, however, the War of Bavarian Succession changed his priorities and he ordered the new theater to be closed in 1778. Doebbelin took over the company’s musicians, which better enabled him to perform musical theater.133 He was even more fortunate when, after Frederick’s death in 1786, the new King Friedrich Wilhelm II granted him the empty French theater at the Gendarmenmarkt plus a royal subvention: On 5 December 1786 the Königliches Nationaltheater, as it was now officially called, opened, and the King and his courtiers honored the new theater with their regular attendance. The new status was also evident from the fact that Verona was now to provide scenery for the National Theater as well. Evidently dissatisfied with Doebbelin by the following year, however, the King appointed an artistic director, a dramaturge, and a financial manager as Doebbelin’s superiors, and in 1789 Doebbelin was dismissed with a pension. The new artistic director Johann Jakob Engel (1741-1802) made the production of opera and Singspiele one of his priorities. Under his direction the building was improved, and a second music director was installed, composer Carl Bernhard Wessely (1768-1826), who became the sole music director after the death in 1790 of composer and actor Johann Christian Frischmuth, who had served as Doebbelin’s music director since 1784. Under Wessely’s direction, the orchestra doubled in size and first-rank singers were hired. The King had the right to request specific works to be performed, and according to Thomas Bauman, in 1788 alone fifty-three such requests came from the court.134 The King also summoned the members of the National Theater to perform at his own theater in Potsdam and he began lending some of his own best singers to the new company, among them the bass Ludwig Fischer and the soprano Margarethe Luise Schick (1773-1809). The musical repertoire was dominated by Viennese, Parisian, and Neapolitan opera. When news about the tremendous success of Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte reached Berlin, the King requested a performance of the opera at the National Theater as well. Engel declined the King’s request twice, but in May 1794, while Friedrich Wilhelm was away in battle, he mounted the opera with great success. The King immediately dismissed

132 Kindermann, Theatergeschichte Europas, IV, pp.627-628. 133 Kindermann, Theatergeschichte Europas, IV, p.633. Around 1780, Doebbelin owned the largest ensemble in the German territories; one of its members was the famous actor, tenor and dancer Karl Wilhelm Ferdinand Unzelmann (1753-1832). Kindermann, Theatergeschichte Europas, IV, p.634. 134 Bauman, North German Opera, p.228. Prologue 57

Engel.135 The situation stabilized in 1796 when Bernhard Anselm Weber (1764-1821) became sole music director.136 That same year, the King succeeded in attracting the famous actor August Wilhelm Iffland as director of the National Theater, a position that Iffland held until his death in 1814. Despite the National Theater’s continuing financial struggles, Iffland’s directorship ushered in a period of relative stability and the greatest successes in the theater’s history. Iffland was highly respected throughout the German territories for his fine acting, his many plays, and his insights as dramatic critic. After his death, the singer and actor Friederike Bethmann called on all German theaters to contribute to a monument in his honor, ‘da der lebende Iffland nicht allein Berlin, sondern ganz Deutschland angehörte […]’ (‘for when Iffland was still alive, he not only belonged to Berlin, but to all of Germany […]’).137 Bethmann’s remark illustrates how Iffland’s achievements connected people from different regions and strengthened their feeling of belonging to a cultural community. When the ailing theater in Mannheim, which Iffland had left for Berlin, asked him for suggestions to improve the situation, Iffland agreed and gave his advice in a letter entitled ‘Die Mannheimer Bühne betreffend’ (‘On the Mannheim Theater’, 1805).138 Some of his suggestions offer valuable insights into his ideas concerning not only how to run the theater but also programming and the broader goals of the enterprise. He warned against hastily staging the latest novelty and suggested closely following developments at the leading German theaters in Vienna and Berlin. Iffland also advised programming the greatest possible variety of works, both in age and in quality. Cautioning his readers that it would never be possible to please all members of the audience of a public theater, given their different backgrounds, tastes, and expectations, he advised unequivocally that all dramas should be staged with equal professionalism and care. Works of high artistic value could be made more appealing to the less-educated by staging

135 Bauman, North German Opera, pp. 264, 265; Kindermann, Theatergeschichte Europas, IV, p.643. 136 Bernhard Anselm Weber was a student of Georg Joseph Vogler (1749-1814) and a composer of operas, Singspiele, theater music, and melodramas. Vogler’s two most prominent students were Carl Maria von Weber and Giacomo Meyerbeer (1791- 1864). 137 Hugo Holstein, [Introduction] in A[ugust] W[ilhelm] Iffland, Ueber meine theatralische Laufbahn, Deutsche Litteraturdenkmale des 18. und 19. Jahrhunderts, 24, ed. by Bernhard Seuffert (Heilbronn: Henninger, 1886), pp.III-XCVI (p.XC). 138 Iffland in seinen Schriften als Künstler, Lehrer und Director der Berliner Bühne. Zum Gedächtnis seines 100 jährigen Geburtstages am 19. April 1859, ed. by Carl Duncker (Berlin: Duncker und Humblot, 1859), pp.79-110. 58 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera them with great pomp and spectacle. Iffland was less optimistic about the role of the theater as educator: ‘Das Publikum läßt sich nicht führen, sobald es merkt, daß es geführt werden soll’. (‘Audiences simply refuse to be led, as soon as they realize that someone is trying to lead them’.)139 To ensure that issues concerning the theater were disseminated and discussed, Iffland emphasized the importance of establishing a critical journal. Here matters concerning theater and the arts could be discussed, partly to encourage actors to improve their performance, but also to ensure that their achievements would not be forgotten.140 In fact, the Berlin theater enjoyed more publicity than most theaters elsewhere in Germany. Beginning in 1802, the Vossische Zeitung and the Haude- und Spenersche Zeitung published theater reviews almost daily, and other newspapers, such as the Zeitung für die elegante Welt, Der Freimüthige, and the Berliner Abendblätter, also included theater reviews, thereby emphasizing the public importance of the National Theater.141 Iffland himself lobbied hard to increase the visibility and status of his own theater in Berlin, and in 1800 he finally received permission from King Friedrich Wilhelm III to erect a new building. The new theater, which also housed Berlin’s first concert hall, was designed by the architect Carl Gotthard Langhans (1732-1808) and opened its doors in January 1802.142 Although the new theater was a public space apart from the court, it still played an important role in royal representation with its monumental loge for the King, in addition to a loge in the proscenium with separate entrance, also reserved for the King. The new building was, moreover, the venue of lavish court festivities.143 Audiences who attended performances in the theater were quite diverse, from court officials and the military to middle- class professionals, intellectuals, and artists. The military, especially, was an important part of the audience and their presence had to be considered in

139 Iffland in seinen Schriften, p.102; Sosulski, Theater and Nation, p.24. 140 Iffland in seinen Schriften, p.105. 141 Klaus Gerlach, ‘Das Berliner Nationaltheater im Langhansbau auf dem Gendarmen- markt (1802-1817) – Bühne höfischer und bürgerlicher Repräsentation. Eine Reprise’, in Tableau de Berlin: Beiträge zur ‘Berliner Klassik’ (1786-1815), ed. by Iwan D’Aprile, Martin Disselkamp, and Claudia Sedlarz (Hannover-Laatzen: Wehrhahn, 2005), pp.211-229 (p.222). 142 On the design, construction, and interior architecture of the new theater, see Carola Aglaia Zimmermann, ‘Das Berliner Nationaltheater von Carl Gotthard Langhans’, in Der gesellschaftliche Wandel um 1800 und das Berliner Nationaltheater, ed. by Klaus Gerlach (Hannover: Wehrhahn, 2009), pp.21-46. 143 Zimmermann, ‘Das Berliner Nationaltheater’, p.44. The King even insisted on placing the loges such that the audience could see him clearly. Gerlach, ‘Das Berliner Nationaltheater im Langhansbau’, pp.217-219. Prologue 59 selecting the dramas to be performed. After a successful performance of Schiller’s Piccolomini, for example, Iffland explained in a letter to Schiller that because the theater was located in a military state, headed by a military King, a performance of Wallensteins Lager would be impossible.144 On the repertoire of the new enterprise were comedies, farces, and spectacles by the German dramatist August Friedrich Ferdinand von Kotzebue (1761-1819), which far outnumbered works by any other author or of other genres on the program.145 Translations of French comedies were also favored. Less popular were tragedies, with the exception of Schiller, whose tragedy Die Jungfrau von Orleans with music by Kapellmeister Bernhard Anselm Weber enjoyed 124 performances during this period. Schiller’s Maria Stuart, Die Braut von Messina, and Wallensteins Tod were also staged many times. The relative importance of Schiller on the Berlin stage is not surprising, given Iffland’s friendship with Schiller during his Mannheim days. In 1804, Iffland asked Schiller to join the Berlin National Theater as dramatic adviser, but Schiller declined due to poor health. The musical repertoire at the Berlin National Theater was similar to that of spoken drama: musical comedies, often called operettas, predominated in far greater numbers than serious works. In comparison to spoken plays, however, the number of translations—most by Carl Alexander Herklots (1759-1830)—was much higher. Of the musical works selected for performance, only around one-third were originally in German.146 Among the most popular operas performed at the National Theater were Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte, Ferdinand Kauer’s Die Nymphe der Donau,147 Friedrich Heinrich Himmel’s Fanchon, das Leyermädchen,148 Christoph Willibald Gluck’s

144 Erika Fischer-Lichte, ‘Theater als öffentlicher Raum’, in Der gesellschaftliche Wandel um 1800, pp.47-60 (p.49). By 1806, the situation had reversed due to the war, and Wallensteins Lager was not only performed but stirred the patriotic feelings prevalent among the audience. Fischer-Lichte, ‘Theater als öffentlicher Raum’, p.50. 145 The following website provides valuable insight into the repertory of the National Theater from 1799-1813, which roughly corresponds to Iffland’s tenure at the theater: http://www.berliner-klassik.de/ 146 Christine Siegert, ‘Französische, italienische und deutsche Oper am Berliner Nationaltheater’, in Der gesellschaftliche Wandel um 1800, pp.239-258. 147 Die Nymphe der Donau, the sequel to Kauer’s tremendously-popular Das Donauweibchen (see Chapter Four), premièred in Vienna in February 1803. 148 Friedrich Heinrich Himmel (1765-1814) succeeded Johann Friedrich Reichardt as royal Prussian Kapellmeister after Reichardt was dismissed in 1794 due to his support of the French Revolution. Himmel’s Singspiel Fanchon was based on a libretto by Jean- Nicolas Bouilly, and translated by August von Kotzebue. It premièred in Berlin in 1804. 60 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Armide, Mozart’s Don Juan, Johann Friedrich Reichardt’s Die Geisterinsel,149 Luigi Cherubini’s Der Wasserträger,150 Peter Winter’s Das unterbrochene Opferfest,151 and Johann Schenk’s Der Dorfbarbier.152 Viennese Singspiel with works by Mozart, Kauer, and Schenk thus formed an important part of the repertoire. Here, Iffland followed his own advice to Mannheim by programming works that had been successful on other major stages. Mozart’s Don Giovanni, originally in Italian, was transformed into a comic farce and performed in German with spoken dialogue instead of recitative. Fanchon, originally a French vaudeville, was translated into German by Kotzebue and set to new music by court composer Himmel. The operas by Gluck and Cherubini were also translated from the French, as were operas by Étienne Nicolas Méhul and Nicolas-Marie Dalayrac, affirming the strong ‘French presence’ in the Berlin repertoire. Nevertheless, the prominent position of Viennese Singspiel in the list performed at the National Theater attests to the director’s serious efforts to stage German works despite the paucity of a German repertoire. With the exception of Schenk’s Dorfbarbier, the subjects of all the original German works on the list are romantic topics dependent on exotic elements, folk legends, or magic. These topics also offered ample opportunities for spectacular stage design, much beloved by audiences. For the most part, the music itself remained within the popular Singspiel tradition, with a series of songs, arias, and ensembles set off by spoken dialogue. Only a very small number of the works performed were sufficiently outstanding to be considered German counterparts to the Italian competitors, notably Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte, Reichardt’s Die Geisterinsel, and Winter’s Das unterbrochene Opferfest. In Berlin, as in many other theaters in the German territories, Mozart’s opera was performed most frequently of all, which was consistent with the growing inclination to claim Mozart as a German composer, ignoring the fact that he wrote Italian operas by preference.153

149 Die Geisterinsel premièred in Berlin in 1798. 150 The work’s original title was Les deux journées, which premièred in Paris in 1800. 151 Das unterbrochene Opferfest premièred in Vienna in 1796. 152 Johann Baptist Schenk (1753-1836). Der Dorfbarbier premièred in Vienna in 1796. 153 Letters to his father, 4 and 7 February 1778, Mozart. Briefe und Aufzeichnungen, II: 1777-1779 (1962), pp.251-255 (p.254), pp.263-267 (p.265). Mozart’s Italian operas were emphatically presented as being genuine German operas. A successful adaptation during the late 1790s and early 1800s was Mozart’s La Clemenza di Tito. Its German version, called Titus, replaced the recitative with spoken dialogue (as was common in German Singspiele), and represented the Emperor Titus as ‘Vater des Volks’, a characterization not found in the original Italian libretto. (See Sergio Durante, ‘Mozarts “La clemenza di Tito” und der deutsche Nationalgedanke. Ein Beitrag zur “Titus”-Rezeption im 19. Jahrhundert’, Die Musikforschung, 53: 4 (2000),

Prologue 61

Notwithstanding their popularity, neither Die Zauberflöte nor Winter’s Opferfest, particularly given the latter’s exotic Peruvian setting, was really suitable as a model for genuinely German opera. Die Geisterinsel, Reichardt’s most popular opera, had been commissioned by Iffland for the National Theater and indicates his interest in staging Shakespeare.154 The choice of a Shakespearean subject represented an alternative to French or Italian models and a guarantee of literary quality and good taste. At the same time, this text also provided the romantic ingredients that were popular at the time, especially magic and ghost scenes, and the opportunity for spectacular effects such as the storm scene with the sinking ship. Only three months after the première of Die Geisterinsel, Iffland would be the first to stage Shakespeare’s Hamlet in its new translation by August Wilhelm Schlegel, a performance which also emphasized the drama’s visual effects.155 Iffland seemed to be experimenting with producing Shakespeare for a larger audience, offering something attractive to a wide range of tastes. Another consideration might have been the opportunity to première an original German opera on the Berlin stage. Since two-thirds of the musical repertoire came from France and Italy and most German titles were imported from Vienna, Reichardt’s opera provided a rare opportunity. Efforts to win back ‘German’ repertoire and to offer more than the popular comic plays and Singspiele are also evident in the introduction to the Berlin stage of tragic operas by Christoph Willibald Gluck. In 1795, the

389-400 (p.398).) Every ruler, from the smallest to the largest principality, could recognize himself in such a representation. The opera’s political subtext, notably Titus’s wisdom and noble generosity, was easily understood by audiences in the German territories not only as a manifesto of Enlightenment ideas, but especially as an exemplary moral lesson to European monarchs in general. It was an especially pointed reminder to Leopold II, whose coronation as King of Bohemia (1790) was celebrated with this opera. 154 The libretto of Die Geisterinsel had been prepared by Friedrich Wilhelm Gotter after Shakespeare’s The Tempest. Gotter did not live to hear the opera, set by Friedrich Fleischmann of Meiningen. Caroline and August Wilhelm Schlegel encouraged Gotter’s widow to publish her late husband’s libretto in Schiller’s Die Horen, where it appeared as ‘Die Geisterinsel. Ein Singspiel in drei Akten’ in issues 8 and 9 of 1797. Fleischmann’s composition was first performed at Regensburg (1796-97?) and staged by Goethe at the Court Theater in Weimar in 1798. Iffland had bought Fleischmann’s score but apparently did not like the music, and asked Reichardt for a new setting of Gotter’s text. Reichardt had already composed Goethe’s Claudine von Villabella for the National Theater in 1789, but the work remained unsuccessful. 155 See Ueber meine theatralische Laufbahn, p.LXXIII, and Simon Williams, Shakespeare on the German Stage (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990- ), I: 1586-1914, p.153. 62 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

National Theater presented Iphigenie auf Tauris.156 Alceste (in Italian) followed in 1796 at the Opernhaus Unter den Linden.157 The National Theater staged Armida in 1805 and Iphigenie in Aulis in 1809. These performances were accompanied by numerous reviews and essays in the press. A strong supporter of this endeavor was Reichardt, who had become one of the most prolific music critics of his time and whose publications added an important musical perspective to the already-broad offerings of newspapers and journals in Berlin.158 Conveniently ignored in the discourse and polemics were Gluck’s position as court composer, the fact that he had composed exclusively in the Italian and French operatic traditions, and had preferred themes from Greek mythology as the subject matter for his operas. The introduction of Gluck’s serious operas to the National Theater could also be viewed in the context of a larger group of classically-inspired works that were brought to the stage, such as Mozart’s Titus, Rousseau’s Pygmalion, Cherubini’s Medea, Goethe’s Iphigenie auf Tauris, Kotzebue’s Octavia, and several dramatic works by the Austrian dramatist Heinrich Joseph von Collin (1771-1811). Many of these works gained relevance for their contemporary audiences by emphasizing the patriotic love of the Greek heroes, who sacrificed their lives out of loyalty to the ‘fatherland’.159 In 1811, the companies of the National Theater and the opera house Unter den Linden merged into the Königliche Schauspiele under Iffland’s directorship. The theater at the Gendarmenmarkt remained the main venue for German opera and spoken drama, where both Hoffmann’s Undine (1816) and Weber’s Freischütz (1821) premièred.

156 The version for Berlin was not the one presented in Vienna in 1781 (prepared by Gluck in collaboration with the poet Johann Baptist Alxinger), but had been translated by Johann Daniel Sander. 157 The königliches Opernhaus Unter den Linden was reserved for Italian opera seria, while the other royal stages in Berlin, Potsdam, and Charlottenburg offered opera buffa. Only the National Theater at the Gendarmenmarkt produced works in all genres. 158 Reichardt’s high standards are best reflected in his Musikalisches Kunstmagazin, which appeared only in 1782 and in 1791. Among his additional publications were Musikalisches Wochenblatt (1791), Musikalische Monathsschrift (1792), Deutschland (1796), and Berlinische Musikalische Zeitung (1805-1806). As most previous music journal editors before him had experienced, however, the market for criticism was volatile and his projects proved to be short-lived. 159 Klaus Gerlach, ‘Das Vaterländische und das allgemein Menschliche – ’Iφιγένεια in Berlin’, in Der gesellschaftliche Wandel um 1800, pp.187-207. Prologue 63

E. T. A. Hoffmann’s Theatrical and Operatic Experiences

Hoffmann was a direct witness of the musical and theatrical developments in turn-of-the-century Berlin. He first stayed in the Prussian capital from 1798 to 1800, where he had accepted a legal position. Here he met the prolific actor, dramatist, and later theater director Franz Ignaz von Holbein (1779-1855) and studied composition and instrumentation with Reichardt. Hoffmann’s music lessons, in fact, had begun at an early age, first with his uncle Otto Wilhelm Doerffer and later with local musicians in his native Königsberg. While in Berlin, Hoffmann composed the words and the music to his first Singspiel, Die Maske (1799), which he offered to Iffland for performance at the National Theater.160 In a letter to his lifelong friend Theodor Gottfried von Hippel, however, he showed himself especially impressed with the Italian opera and Verona’s enchanting decorations.161 After a two-year exile in the Prussian provinces,162 Hoffmann was transferred to Warsaw in 1804, where he became secretary and vice president of the German community’s Musikalische Gesellschaft (Musical Society), which was founded the following year. Hoffmann conducted concerts and composed music for the Society. His judicial colleague and later biographer Julius Eduard Hitzig (1780-1849) introduced him to the works of the Romantic generation of writers: Ludwig Tieck, Friedrich Schlegel, Novalis, and Clemens Brentano. Inspired, Hoffmann set Brentano’s comedy Die lustigen Musikanten (The Merry Musicians) as a Singspiel, which was performed in Warsaw on 6 April 1805. On the score, he changed his third name for the first time, from Wilhelm (E. T. W.) to Amadeus (E. T. A.), an expression of his admiration for Mozart. During his time in Warsaw, Hoffmann also began composing the three-act Singspiel Liebe und Eifersucht after August Wilhelm Schlegel’s translation of Calderón’s La Banda y la Flor (die Schärpe und die Blume). With Napoleon’s invasion in the fall of 1806, following the Prussian forces’ defeat at Jena and Auerstedt, Hoffmann

160 Letter of 4 January 1800, Briefwechsel, I, pp.150-151; Der Musiker E. T. A. Hoffmann. Ein Dokumentenband. Selbstzeugnisse, Dokumente und zeitgenössische Urteile, ed. by Friedrich Schnapp (Hildesheim: Gerstenberg, 1981), pp.24-27, 44. 161 Letter of 24 January 1799, Briefwechsel, I, p.142. Hoffmann and Theodor Gottlieb von Hippel (1775-1843) attended school together and entered law school at the Univerity of Königsberg in 1792. 162 As a disciplinary measure for drawing and anonymously circulating caricatures of Prussian military officers and civil servants during Fasching (Mardi Gras) in 1802 in Posen (then South-Prussia). During his time in Posen Hoffmann composed Goethe’s Scherz, List und Rache. In the summer of 1802, he married Marianna Thekla Michaelina Rorer (Mischa) (1778-1854), who followed him into exile. 64 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera and other Prussian officials lost their positions and, after refusing to swear allegiance to the new government, were forced to leave. For a second time Hoffmann went to Berlin, where he stayed, without income and seriously ill, during 1807-1808. His musical training and experience, along with his composition of the romantic opera Der Trank der Unsterblichkeit on a text by Count Julius von Soden, led to his appointment, in April 1808, as music director at the Bamberg theater. Hoffmann’s debut as the conductor of the theater orchestra was unsuccessful due to opposition from various musicians, and he withdrew from his conducting post but stayed on as theater composer.163 In his letter of 12 January 1809 to AMZ editor Rochlitz, Hoffmann described the situation at the Bamberg theater as deplorable, its singers and musicians incapable of performing opera. Hence, he had his own opera compositions performed in Würzburg rather than in Bamberg. He also wrote that, in order to compensate for lost income after his withdrawal as music director, he had begun to give singing lessons at the homes of the socially-prominent.164 Among the works that Hoffmann provided for the Bamberg stage was the melodrama Dirna (1809, to a text by Soden). In 1810 when his friend Franz von Holbein took over the directorship, Hoffmann would again become fully engaged with the theater, in charge of dramatic advising, scene painting, and all other stage effects. With Hoffmann and Holbein, the theater at Bamberg became one of the most notable stages in the German territories, presenting, in 1811, plays by Pedro Calderón de la Barca (second only after Weimar) and Heinrich von Kleist’s Kätchen von Heilbronn (second only after Vienna). That same year, they also staged Shakespeare’s Hamlet, in August Wilhelm Schlegel’s translation.165 It was during this inspiring period that Hoffmann wrote his most important opera before Undine, entitled Aurora, a große romantische Oper in three acts on a libretto by Holbein. Despite high hopes that it would be staged in Würzburg and even in Vienna, the opera was never performed.166

163 According to Hoffmann’s friend Friedrich Speyer, concertmaster Anton Dittmayer, who was also a capable conductor, felt passed over upon Hoffmann’s appointment. Moreover, Hoffmann conducted at the piano, something the musicians were not used to. Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, pp.128-129. 164 This letter accompanied Hoffmann’s submission of Ritter Gluck (Briefwechsel, I, pp.260-261). In his letter of 1 January to Julius Eduard Hitzig, Hoffmann had also written about the dire prospects facing the Bamberg theater, which he feared was close to collapse, and discussed his alternative income as singing master (Briefwechsel, I, pp.255-256). Here, he called the current theater manager Heinrich Cuno ‘an ignorant, conceited windbag’. 165 Kindermann, Theatergeschichte Europas, VI: Romantik (1977), pp.36-39. 166 See Hermann Dechant, ‘Entstehung und Bedeutung von E. T. A. Hoffmanns Oper Aurora’, Mitteilungen der E. T. A. Hoffmann-Gesellschaft 31 (1985), 6-14. The score was

Prologue 65

After Holbein’s departure in 1812, Hoffmann left the following year to assume the post of music director of Seconda’s German opera company in Leipzig and Dresden. Here, from May 1813 to late February 1814, he conducted many of the aforementioned operas, such as Cherubini’s Der Wasserträger and Faniska, Gluck’s Iphigenie auf Tauris, Gyrowetz’ Der Augenarzt, Weigl’s Die Schweizerfamilie, Hiller’s Die Jagd, Schenk’s Der Dorfbarbier, and Mozart’s Die Entführung aus dem Serail, Don Juan, and Die Zauberflöte. His activities in Dresden and Leipzig are discussed in greater detail in Chapter Three, while Chapters Four through Seven address Hoffmann’s operatic endeavors after his return to Berlin in 1814.

Evaluating Hoffmann’s Contribution(s) to Opera

As we have seen, Hoffmann’s experience encompassed all aspects of opera production, from libretto writing and musical composition to singing and conducting, from stage management and stage design to machinery and lighting. He was, moreover, well acquainted with historical developments in the dramatic arts, as expressed in both primary sources and theoretical writings. As a music critic, Hoffmann was therefore exceptionally well equipped to comment on the operatic endeavors of his time. Although his opera criticism does not present a systematic analysis or theory of the genre, the entire body of his contributions on the subject does read as a critical reflection on the many problems plaguing the creation of German opera, as will be presented in the following chapters. The first part of this study (Act I) addresses Hoffmann’s opera essays for the AMZ. His first contribution, Ritter Gluck, refers to performances of Gluck’s works at the Berlin National Theater. As will be shown in Chapter One, however, it was not Hoffmann’s intent to promote or support efforts under way in Berlin to present patriotic love through exemplary German works. Rather, the figure of Gluck is used to demonstrate Berlin’s relative backwardness in international operatic developments, and the failure, even on the part of the musical elites, to understand opera as a product of creative genius. Chapter Two reflects on Hoffmann’s tale Don Juan, which also is the title of the German version of Mozart’s Don Giovanni. The tale celebrates Mozart’s opera as a masterpiece yet never mentions the composer’s name. As did Ritter Gluck, Don Juan highlights the autonomy of music in opera, and

published in the series Denkmäler der Tonkunst in Bayern, vol. 6, ed. by Hermann Dechant (Wiesbaden: Breitkopf & Härtel, 1984). 66 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera the integrity of the composition as an organic whole. The tale advocates the opera’s performance in the original Italian, rather than following the current practice of using German translations, and criticizes many other aspects of contemporary performance practice. The third chapter discusses the dialogue Der Dichter und der Komponist and its subtexts, namely, the review of Kotzebue’s Opern-Almanach and the essay Über einen Ausspruch Sachini’s (On a Remark of Sacchini’s). The dialogue has been interpreted as an essay containing Hoffmann’s main thoughts on opera, and on Romantic opera in particular. In this third chapter, the dialogue is analyzed as a response to the state of German opera on three levels: theoretical discourse, libretto writing, and musical practice. The text refers to the lack of a clear understanding of the essence of opera—most notably, the still-prevalent rationalistic concept of mimesis—and of the appropriate role to be played by the various arts involved in it. Hoffmann’s engagement in all aspects of opera from genesis to production becomes particularly evident in Chapter Four, which is dedicated to Hoffmann’s ‘Zauberoper’ Undine. Hoffmann’s role was not limited to setting Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué’s text to music; he also had an important hand in writing the libretto and advising in matters of stage design. Undine was therefore the result of a close collaboration among Fouqué, Hoffmann, and the promising young architect Karl Friedrich Schinkel. Despite many laudatory reviews (including one by Carl Maria von Weber), Hoffmann’s Undine remained without successors and soon disappeared from the stage. In his reviews for Berlin journals and newspapers, discussed in Chapter Five, Hoffmann commented on performances of Italian, French, and German operas, thus continuing his practice and adhering to his principles as a reviewer for the AMZ. Although his reviews warmly welcomed Karl Friedrich Schinkel’s innovative stage designs, Hoffmann warned that the scenography was not sufficient to raise the quality of the Berlin opera overall. He saw musical performance and acting as being clearly in decline, and extended his criticism to spoken drama as well. He advised young poets to study and translate exemplary foreign masterpieces instead of creating mediocre German works. In both opera and spoken drama, Hoffmann placed great emphasis on the integrity of the works, which did not allow for the arrangements or adaptations that were then commonplace on the contemporary stage. Hoffmann’s cosmopolitan outlook comes to the fore most clearly in his writings concerning Gaspare Spontini, the controversial General-Musik- Direktor at the Berlin opera. Chapter Six discusses Hoffmann’s remaining Berlin reviews, which were all dedicated to Spontini, whom he hailed as being ‘German’ and even a ‘Berliner’. Hoffmann not only collaborated with Prologue 67

Spontini in providing a German translation of his opera Olimpie, but also wrote his most extensive review ever about this work. His unwavering support of Spontini and his opera Olimpie demonstrates that neither German ethnic origin nor German subject matter was an essential element for constituting German opera as Hoffmann envisioned it. Rather, what is praised as having a ‘German’ quality in his reviews refers either to the compositional style—displaying thoroughness, technical solidity and depth of thought—or to a synthesis of the best features of various national styles. Both concepts, the intellectual quality of German music or its universality, had been developed in the eighteenth century.167 To qualify as ‘German’ was therefore not necessarily to be tied to a German subject or a German composer. Only later in the nineteenth century would the ethnicity of the composer, the work’s thematic content, and its appeal to a distinct national feeling or aspiration become integral parts of the concept of German opera.168 Hoffmann’s indebtedness to the earlier cosmopolitan concept of opera might very well explain his resounding silence on Weber’s Der Freischütz, as Chapter Seven sets out to examine. The opera’s ‘Germanness’, thematically and musically—especially its popular Lieder and expressive instrumentation—became its advertised qualities soon after its première. For Hoffmann, however, as his writings on opera ultimately convey, music speaks to humanity, not to national feelings, which he saw as being, to the contrary, sublimated in great works of art. National aspects, in his view, were thus not the essential criterion for determining artistic value. As will be argued here, Der Freischütz did not fulfill the ideal of opera that Hoffmann envisioned. Public recognition and discussion of the opera were further complicated by the political circumstances at the time of its première and Hoffmann’s entanglement in politically-contentious struggles.

167 See among others Bernd Sponheuer, ‘Über das “Deutsche” in der Musik. Versuch einer idealtypischen Rekonstruktion’, in Deutsche Meister – böse Geister? Nationale Selbstfindung in der Musik, ed. by Hermann Danuser and Herfried Münkler (Schliengen: Edition Argus, 2001), pp.123-150. Charles Burney remarked in a similar vein: ‘[...] it may be said of Germany in general, that the musical virtues of its natives, are patience and profundity; and their vices, prolixity and pedantry. The Italians are apt to be too negligent, and the Germans too elaborate; in so much, that music, if I may hazard the thought, seems play to the Italians, and work to the Germans’. Charles Burney, The Present State of Music in Germany, The Netherlands, and United Provinces. Or, The Journal of a Tour through those Countries, undertaken to collect Materials for A General History of Music, 2 vols (London: T. Becket; J. Robson; and G. Robinson, 1775), II, pp.343-344. 168 Nicholas Vazsonyi sees this development culminating in Richard Wagner, who would brand himself as the most German of all composers. Nicholas Vazsonyi, Richard Wagner: Self-Promotion and the Making of a Brand (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010). 68 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Reflecting on opera inspired Hoffmann to explore new avenues of writing about music and his opera criticism spans a variety of forms, from more traditional reviews to literary masterpieces. His creative literary talent is evident in many of his AMZ contributions, starting with Ritter Gluck, to which we now turn.

ACT I

NARRATING OPERA (CRITICISM) FOR THE ALLGEMEINE MUSIKALISCHE ZEITUNG

(Berlin, Bamberg, Leipzig/Dresden, 1808-1814)

Chapter One Ritter Gluck: On the Art of Judging Opera

The Power of Anecdotes

Es müßte spaßhaft seyn Anekdoten zu erfinden und ihnen den Anstrich höchster Authentizität durch Citaten u. s. w. zu geben, die durch Zusammenstellung von Personen die Jahrhunderte aus einander lebten oder ganz heterogener Vorfälle gleich sich als gelogen auswiesen. – Denn mehrere würden übertölpelt werden und wenigstens einige Augenblicke an die Wahrheit glauben. – Gäbe man ihnen einen Stachel, desto besser.

(It must be fun to invent anecdotes and make them look completely authentic by using quotations etc. while at the same time this authenticity is belied by featuring people who were living hundreds of years apart or by incorporating totally heterogeneous events. – For several would be bamboozled and believe it to be true at least for a short moment. – If one would give them a sting, so much the better.)1

Hoffmann’s literary début Ritter Gluck is an anecdote of this sort, one that has successfully ‘bamboozled’ not just readers of his era, but also later generations. Who is this odd stranger who roams the streets of Berlin, performs Gluck’s works in an inimitable way, and at the very end reveals himself to be ‘Ritter Gluck’? The narrator first meets him in a café, where he suddenly appears at his table. They engage in a conversation about music, and the narrator’s companion turns out to be a musician, as he conducts the café orchestra playing the overture to Gluck’s Iphigénie en Aulide. The stranger later also sings passages from Gluck’s Iphigénie en Tauride, and recounts how he had been tormented in the realm of dreams in order to become a composer. He then disappears as suddenly as he had emerged. A few months later, the narrator crosses paths with him again at the theater, where Gluck’s Armide is being performed. When asked to accompany the stranger to his room, they go upstairs and the unknown musician plays scenes from Armide at the piano, revealing that he had composed all this after returning from the realm of dreams. Finally, to the narrator’s surprise, he discloses his identity to be Ritter Gluck.

1 Hoffmann writing in his calendar for the year 1809; Schriften zur Musik, Nachlese, p.883. 72 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

The central question that scholars have been trying to resolve since the tale’s publication is who this ingenious musician might in fact be or represent. The subtitle Hoffmann added for the second edition of the tale— ‘Eine Erinnerung aus dem Jahre 1809’ (‘A Recollection from the Year 1809’)—when it was incorporated in the Fantasiestücke in Callot’s Manier (1814) further complicates this question. The text itself presents contemporary elements in abundance. At the very beginning of the tale, the narrator notes that on a beautiful fall day in Berlin, all tables at Klaus and Weber, two well-known cafés at the Tiergarten, are quickly occupied, while the carrot coffee is steaming. ‘Mohrrüben-Kaffee’ (carrot coffee) was the only coffee available in Berlin due to the continental blockade that Napoleon had imposed in 1806. The narrator also remarks that people are discussing Johann Gottlieb Fichte’s treatise Der geschlossene Handelsstaat (‘the Closed Commercial State’, 1800) and the ‘schlechte Groschen’ (bad pennies) resulting from inflation. Among further topics of interest are the shoes of Madame Bethmann, a singer formerly known as Madame Unzelmann, who sang under her new name for the first time in 1805.2 The chatting voices finally dissolve into an aria from Friedrich Heinrich Himmel’s Singspiel Fanchon, which premièred at Berlin’s National Theater on 16 May 1804, and is performed here by a café orchestra. The tale is thus clearly set at the beginning of the nineteenth century in occupied Berlin after Prussia’s defeat by Napoleon. The reader therefore is inevitably stunned by the tale’s concluding words, when the stranger reveals: ‘I am Ritter Gluck!’ The fact that Gluck had died in Vienna on 15 November 1787 immediately calls to mind Hoffmann’s jocular reference to impossible anecdotes. Hoffmann scholarship certainly did not understand this first literary work to be a joke but, quite to the contrary, interpreted Ritter Gluck as an anticipation of the content and style of Hoffmann’s entire œuvre; it has been deemed revelatory of the poetics of all his subsequent tales.3 In the view of most scholars, the principal and most problematic issue was who

2 See AMZ 7: 37 (12 June 1805), col.596. 3 See, among others, Hans Mayer, ‘Die Wirklichkeit E. T. A. Hoffmanns. Ein Versuch’, in E. T. A. Hoffmann, Poetische Werke, ed. by Gerhard Seidel, 6 vols (Berlin: Aufbau-Verlag, 1958), I: Kleine Schriften; Fantasiestücke in Callots Manier; Seltsame Leiden eines Theaterdirektors, p.VI; Christa Karoli, ‘RITTER GLUCK. Hoffmanns erstes Fantasiestück’, Mitteilungen der E. T. A. Hoffmann-Gesellschaft, 14 (1968), 1-17 (p.1); Miller, ‘E. T. A. Hoffmann und die Musik’, p.269; Wolfgang Rüdiger, Musik und Wirklichkeit bei E. T. A. Hoffmann. Zur Entstehung einer Musikanschauung der Romantik (Pfaffenweiler: Centaurus, 1989), p.3; See also the commentary in E. T. A. Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/1: Fantasiestücke in Callot’s Manier. Werke 1814, ed. by Hartmut Steinecke and others (1993), p.612. Ritter Gluck 73 this ‘Ritter Gluck’ might be. Three main theories concerning the stranger’s identity have been developed. The most widely-accepted interpretation was put forward by Hans von Müller, who was convinced that the unknown stranger was mentally ill, and only imagined himself to be Gluck.4 This view was supported not just by the fact that Gluck had died in 1787, but also by physiognomic traits in the description of the stranger that were considered typical of insane people at the time. Further ‘proof’ was discerned in the letter accompanying his submission of the tale. Addressed to Friedrich Rochlitz, editor of the AMZ, the letter stated:

Ich wage es einen kleinen Aufsatz, dem eine wirkliche Begebenheit in Berlin zum Grunde liegt, mit der Anfrage beyzulegen, ob er wohl in die Musik[alische] Zeitung aufgenommen werden könte? – Aehnliche Sachen habe ich ehmahls in oben erwähnter Zeitung wirklich gefunden zB. die höchst interessanten Nachrichten von einem Wahnsinnigen, der auf eine wunderbare Art auf dem Clavier zu fantasiren pflegte.

(I venture to enclose a short article, based on a real occurrence in Berlin, with the question whether it might be accepted for the Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung. I have seen similar contributions in this publication; for instance, the most interesting news of a lunatic who habitually improvised on the piano in a remarkable manner.)5

The reference is to ‘Der Besuch im Irrenhause’ (‘Visit to the Insane Asylum’), penned by Rochlitz himself.6 Hoffmann was obviously flattering

4 Hans von Müller, ‘Zwei Exkurse zum “Ritter Gluck”’, Gesammelte Aufsätze über E. T. A. Hoffmann, ed. by Friedrich Schnapp (Hildesheim: Gerstenberg, 1974), pp.459-475. Scholars who adhere to this interpretation of the stranger as a pathological case are, among others: Rüdiger Safranski, E. T. A. Hoffmann. Das Leben eines skeptischen Phantasten (Munich: Hanser, 1984), pp.200, 202-203, 211; James M. McGlathery, Mysticism and Sexuality: E. T. A. Hoffmann, 2 vols, I: Hoffmann and his Sources (Las Vegas: Lang, 1981), II: Interpretations of the Tales (New York: Lang, 1985), II, p.15; McGlathery, E. T. A. Hoffmann (New York: Twayne Publishers, 1997), p.59; Friedhelm Auhuber, In einem fernen dunklen Spiegel. E. T. A. Hoffmanns Poetisierung der Medizin (Opladen: Westdeutscher Verlag, 1986), pp.85-88; Herbert Heckmann, E. T. A. Hoffmanns Ritter Gluck (Stuttgart: Mayer, 1997), p.27. Heckmann, however, rather than interpreting insanity as illness, saw it as the cure for illness, a release from the banality of everyday life through music. 5 Letter of 12 January 1809; Briefwechsel, I, p.261; Selected Letters, p.144. 6 Published in AMZ 6: 39-42 (27 June & 4, 11, 18 July 1804). 74 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera the AMZ editor, since, as Spiegelberg has already shown, Hoffmann’s text is completely different from Rochlitz’s distanced psychological observations.7 Another proposal advanced to solve the identity of the stranger is the ghost theory, in which the unknown musician is the spirit of the deceased Gluck. The stranger is thus seen as a supernatural figure.8 A third theory denies the stranger’s existence altogether, interpreting him as a mere figment of the narrator’s imagination.9 In addition to these three explanations, some have suggested that Gluck personifies artistic creativity in general,10 or should be interpreted allegorically;11 others have tried to combine all these insights into a polyvalent interpretation.12 Scholars have also focused on Ritter Gluck’s initiation myth as composer and the metaphors used in this mythical view of creativity.13 More recently, interpreters of Hoffmann’s first tale have used a more semiotic or

7 Hartmut Spiegelberg, Der RITTER GLUCK von NN (1809) als Wegweiser zum dichterischen Schaffen des Komponisten und bildenden Künstlers in Sprache E. T. A. Hoffmann, Diss. Philipps-Universität Marburg, 1973, pp.111-116. 8 This theory was inaugurated by Georg Ellinger, ed., E. T. A. Hoffmanns Werke in fünfzehn Teilen (Berlin: Bong, n.d.), XII-XV, Anmerkungen, p.148. 9 Jochen Schmidt, Die Geschichte des Genie-Gedankens 1750-1945, 2 vols (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1985), II: Von der Romantik bis zum Ende des Dritten Reichs, pp.12-19. 10 Judith Rohr, E. T. A. Hoffmanns Theorie des musikalischen Dramas. Untersuchungen zum musikalischen Romantikbegriff im Umkreis der Leipziger Allgemeinen Musikalischen Zeitung (Baden-Baden: Koerner, 1985), p.51. 11 Spiegelberg sees in Ritter Gluck the spirit of Gluck’s reform operas (Spiegelberg, Der RITTER GLUCK von NN, p.243), Deterding, more generally, sees the spirit of music. (Klaus Deterding, Magie des Poetischen Raums. E. T. A. Hoffmanns Dichtung und Weltbild (Heidelberg: Winter, 1999), pp.272, 273). Dotzler, inspired by literary theory, interprets Gluck as the spirit of the author. (Bernhard J. Dotzler, ‘“Dem Geist stehen die Geister bei”. Zur “Gymnastik” E. T. A. Hoffmanns’, in Diskurstheorien und Literaturwissenschaft, ed. by Jürgen Fohrmann and Harro Müller (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, 1988), pp.365-399 (pp.382ff). According to Justus Mahr, Ritter Gluck voices Hoffmann’s own vision of a romantic music of the future (Justus Mahr, ‘Die Musik E. T. A. Hoffmanns im Spiegel seiner Novelle vom “Ritter Gluck”’, Neue Zeitschrift für Musik 129 (July/August 1968), 339-346 (pp.341, 342). 12 Karoli, ‘RITTER GLUCK. Hoffmanns erstes Fantasiestück’, pp.7-8; Liebrand, Aporie des Kunstmythos, pp.36-37. Ricarda Schmidt limits this polyvalent interpretation to two valid options, namely Gluck as a partially-insane musician, or as an allegorical personification of the spirit of Gluck’s music. Ricarda Schmidt, Wenn mehrere Künste im Spiel sind. Intermedialität bei E.T.A. Hoffmann (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2006), p.42-43. 13 See especially Rüdiger, Musik und Wirklichkeit bei E. T. A. Hoffmann, pp.24-31 and Spiegelberg, Der RITTER GLUCK von NN, pp.188, 191. Ritter Gluck 75 intertextual approach.14 Even intertextuality, however, did not increase the attention given to aspects of opera history or other musical influences in the interpretation of the tale.15 Klaus-Dieter Dobat emphasized his conviction that music is at the center of Hoffmann’s first tale,16 as did Günter Oesterle, who formulated more precisely that the elements to be considered central were not just the music, but also the intersection of music and poetry, the boundaries between the two arts, and their interactive cooperation.17 In Ritter Gluck, Oesterle noted, Hoffmann continued the legends around Gluck as they had been created in the press over the previous half-century. This insight is of the utmost importance in interpreting the tale, for Ritter Gluck clearly addresses the controversies relating to Gluck as they played out in the French and German music press. It is certainly no coincidence that Hoffmann wanted his contribution to be published in the AMZ, the leading music journal at the time.18 Not only Hoffmann’s emphasis on the arguments prevalent in the debate concerning Gluck, but also his choice of musical examples incorporated in the tale show his intention to directly intervene in the controversy. The battles were fought mainly in the music

14 For a semiotic approach see Gerhard Neumann, ‘E. T. A. Hoffmann: “Ritter Gluck”. Die Geburt der Literatur aus dem Geist der Musik’, in Ton – Sprache: Komponisten in der deutschen Literatur, ed. by Gabriele Brandstetter (Bern: Haupt, 1995), pp.39-70. According to Neumann, the tale questions traditional literary concepts such as textual unity and authentic authorship (p.67). 15 Sabine Laußmann, for example, sees Diderot’s Le neveu de Rameau, Cervantes’s Don Quijote, Ariosto’s Orlando furioso and opera libretti by Mozart, Gluck and Handel as pretexts for Ritter Gluck, but states that the discussion on Gluck’s reform operas and Gluck’s role in music history is peripheral to an exploration of intertextuality in the tale. See Sabine Laußmann, Das Gespräch der Zeichen: Studien zur Intertextualität im Werk E. T. A. Hoffmanns (Munich: tuduv, 1992), p.207 fn.264. The importance of Diderot’s Le neveu de Rameau has been emphasized by, among others, Steven Paul Scher, ‘E. T. A. Hoffmann’s “Ritter Gluck”: The Platonic Idea’, Verbal Music in German Literature (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1968), pp.56-78 (pp.67-71); John Neubauer, ‘Mimeticism and Intertextuality in “Ritter Gluck”’, in Narrative Ironies, ed. by Raymond A. Prier and Gerald Gillespie (Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1997), pp.239-251; Neumann, ‘E. T. A. Hoffmann: “Ritter Gluck”’, pp.57-59. 16 Dobat, Musik als romantische Illusion, p.119; Dobat concludes that the wandering stranger reveals Hoffmann’s skepticism towards Romantic art and the role of the Romantic artist (Dobat, Musik als romantische Illusion, pp.134-137). 17 Günter Oesterle, ‘Dissonanz und Effekt in der romantischen Kunst. E. T. A. Hoffmanns “Ritter Gluck”’, E. T. A. Hoffmann-Jahrbuch, 1 (1992-1993), 58-79 (pp.62- 63). 18 Günter Schnitzler noted that the venue of publication has important yet neglected implications for possible readings of the text. Günter Schnitzler, ‘Ritter Gluck. Produktive Musikkritik’, in Interpretationen E. T. A. Hoffmann. Romane und Erzählungen, ed. by Günter Saße (Stuttgart: Reclam, 2004), pp.14, 15. 76 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera press and began with the première of Gluck’s first opera for Paris, Iphigénie en Aulide (1774). A climax in the literary battles was reached with the performance of Armide (Paris, 1777).19 At the beginning of Hoffmann’s tale, the unknown stranger conducts the overture to Iphigénie en Aulide; at the end, he impresses the narrator with his performance of the final scene from Armide. The beginning and end of the tale thus mark important stages of the controversy concerning Gluck.

Querelle des Gluckistes et des Piccinnistes. Christoph Willibald Gluck in the French Press

The controversy incited with the staging of Gluck’s operas in Paris was not an isolated event but rather a continuation of ongoing debates concerning aesthetic ideals of the operatic genre and national preferences. In France, national tastes played into the discussion of opera, and the French style was set off against Italian traditions. Jean-Baptiste Lully (1632-1687), in collaboration with his librettist Philippe Quinault (1635-1688), introduced the genre of tragédie lyrique, a five-act drama in a noble and elevated style, to the French stage. In the ‘French style’, the vocal line was inspired by the lofty declamation of French tragedy, which was clearly distinct from the Italian example of alternating between recitativo secco and aria. Lully’s operas remained in the French repertoire for more than a century after his death in 1687, and Lully’s followers opposed the efforts of Jean-Philippe Rameau (1683-1764) to modernize tragédie lyrique by increasing the role of the orchestra and choruses underlining the drama. A new controversy was provoked by the performance of Giovanni Battista Pergolesi’s Intermezzo La Serva Padrona on 1 August 1752 in Paris—a controversy also known as the guerre des bouffons (‘quarrel of the comic actors’). Rameau was now embraced as the preserver of French operatic tradition, while his opponents championed Italian opera. Jean-Jacques Rousseau famously sided with the defenders of Italian opera and in his Lettre sur la musique françoise (‘Letter on French Music’, 1753) he even asserted that the French language was

19 More information can be found, e.g., in Neues Handbuch der Musikwissenschaft, ed. by Carl Dahlhaus, 13 vols (Wiesbaden: Akademische Verlagsgesellschaft Athenaion, 1980-1995), V: Die Musik des 18. Jahrhunderts, ed. by Carl Dahlhaus (Laaber: Laaber-Verlag, 1985), pp.239-253, and the forewords and critical reports in Christoph Willibald Gluck, Sämtliche Werke, Abt. I, 5b: Iphigénie en Aulide. Vorwort, Notenanhang, Kritischer Bericht (1989), 8b: Armide. Vorwort. Kritischer Bericht (1991), 11: Iphigenie auf Tauris (1965). Ritter Gluck 77 completely unsuitable for musical composition.20 Twenty years later, many issues from these quarrels reemerged when Gluck appeared on the Paris stage. In 1772, the Mercure de France published a letter on Gluck and his operas, inquiring whether the director of the Paris Opera would be interested in staging Iphigénie en Aulide.21 The most likely author of the letter was the dramatist and diplomat François Bailli du Roullet (1716-1786),22 and it can be interpreted as a reply to Rousseau’s Lettre sur la musique françoise. The letter credits Gluck for having recognized the ‘clarity and energy of the French language’, and praises his new allegiance, for ‘D’après ces observations, M. Gluck s’est indigné contre les assertions hardies de ceux de nos Écrivains fameux qui ont osé calomnier la Langue Françoise, en soutenant qu’elle n’étoit pas susceptible de se prêter à la grande composition musicale’. (‘According to these observations, Monsieur Gluck was outraged by the harsh assumptions made by some of our famous authors, who had dared to slander the French language, maintaining that it would not lend itself to large-scale composition’.)23 It is quite obvious that one of the ‘famous authors’ du Roullet refers to is Rousseau. The letter goes on to explain in laudatory terms how Gluck intended to display the virtues of the French language through his opera Iphigénie en Aulide: ‘M. Gluck désiroit de pouvoir appuyer son opinion en faveur de la Langue Françoise sur la démonstration que produit l’expérience, lorsque le hazard a fait tomber entre ses mains la Tragédie-Opéra d’Iphigénie en Aulide. Il a cru trouver dans cet ouvrage ce qu’il cherchoit’. (‘Monsieur Gluck wished to assert his favorable opinion of the French language by proving it through actual experience, when by chance the tragic opera Iphigénie en Aulide fell into his hands. He recognized that in this work he had found what he was looking for’.)24 In February 1773, a letter signed by Gluck appeared in the Mercure de France. In it, Gluck announced his intention to overcome the absurd

20 Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Lettre sur la musique françoise, deuxième édition (1753), p.92. It is not without significance that the King, Louis XV, supported the French academicians, Lully, and Rameau, and the Queen supported the Italians. 21 The most important letters, articles, and pamphlets pertaining to this battle are collected in Querelle des Gluckistes et des Piccinnistes. Texte des pamphlets avec introduction, commentaires et index par François Lesure. Réimpression des éditions de Paris, 1781. 2 vols (Genève: Minkoff Reprint, 1984). For the letter referred to above, see ‘Lettre à M. D. un des Directeurs de l’Opéra de Paris’, Querelle, I, pp.1- 7. 22 See the foreword in Gluck, Sämtliche Werke, I, 5b: Iphigénie en Aulide. Vorwort, Notenanhang, Kritischer Bericht, ed. by Marius Flothuis (1989), p.VI. 23 Querelle, I, pp.2-3. 24 Querelle, I, p.3. 78 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera distinction between national musical styles.25 His first opera for Paris, Iphigénie en Aulide, based on a libretto by du Roullet, was performed on 19 April 1774. The encyclopedist François Arnaud, Abbé de Grandchamp, subsequently praised Gluck’s most recent opera in his Lettre de M. L’A. A[rnaud] à Madame D’[Augny], published in the Gazette de Littérature.26 In 1776-1777 the debate came to a climax, when Niccolò Piccinni was invited to come to Paris from Naples. In Germany, Gluck was also the subject of bitter controversy and the spokesman for his opponents, Johann Nicolaus Forkel, wrote in the first volume of his Musikalisch-Kritische Bibliothek: ‘Paris, ebenfalls vom Januar, 1777. Der berühmte Capellmeister Piccini ist hier angekommen, und auf 3 Jahre Director einer Singschule geworden [...] Er, und der Ritter Gluck werden bald einen Theater-Streit hier veranlassen’. (‘Paris, January 1777. The famous Kapellmeister Piccini has arrived and has become director of a singing school for three years. […] He and Ritter Gluck will soon spark a theater battle here’.)27 Such a battle between so- called ‘Gluckists’ (Gluck had now been claimed by supporters of French opera) and ‘Piccinnists’ (champions of Italian opera) did in fact develop. On the day Iphigénie en Aulide was restaged (5 March 1777), the editor of the Journal de politique et de littérature, Jean-François de La Harpe, published an article attacking Gluck.28 A series of articles and letters followed, all discussing the value of Gluck’s dramatic music. Jean François Marmontel, editor of the Mercure de France, summarized the arguments against Gluck’s musical style in his Essai sur les révolutions de la musique, en France29 and ‘l’Anonyme de Vaugirard’ (Jean-Baptiste Suard) and Jean-François de La Harpe fought a bitter battle of words in the Journal de Paris and Journal de politique, respectively. Forkel noted in his Musikalisch-Kritische Bibliothek: ‘Ebendaselbst [Paris], vom Jul. 1777. Jetzt wird der musikalische Krieg zwischen den Freunden des Ritters Gluck, des Hrn. Gretry und des Hrn. Piccini, von Tag zu Tage lebhafter. Marmontels Buch: Essai sur les revolutions de la Musique en France, hat die meiste Veranlassung dazu gegeben’. (‘Paris. July 1777. The musical war between Ritter Gluck, Mr. Gretry, and Mr.

25 ‘Lettre de M. le Chevalier Gluck à l'auteur du Mercure de France’, Querelle, I, pp.8-10. 26 Querelle, I, pp.29-39. In the foreword to Gluck’s Sämtliche Werke (I: 5b, p.VII), the letter is attributed to the singer L’Arrivée; the commentary to Vol. 1 of the Querelle des Gluckistes et des Piccinnistes, however, identifies the letter as being authored by Arnaud. This was the letter that Forkel commented on extensively in his Musikalisch- Kritische Bibliothek (see below). 27 Johann Nicolaus Forkel, ‘IX. Musikalische Neuigkeiten’, Musikalisch-Kritische Bibliothek, 3 vols (Gotha: Ettinger, 1778-1779), I (1778), p.313. 28 Querelle, I, pp.113-114. 29 Querelle, I, pp.153-190. Ritter Gluck 79

Piccini is currently becoming livelier by the day, caused mainly by Marmontel’s book Essai sur les revolutions de la Musique en France’.)30 Feelings ran even higher when it became known that Gluck planned to write a new opera entitled Armide. Such was the esteem that Lully still enjoyed nearly a century after his death that it was considered presumptuous of Gluck to want to compose the same text by Quinault that had already been set by Lully. Rehearsals were held in secret and the première took place on 23 September 1777. Marmontel and La Harpe severely criticized the new opera, and Gluck asked the ‘Anonyme de Vaugirard’ to defend him against the attacks of his opponents.31 Two days later, on 23 October 1777, the Journal de Paris published a panegyric article in defense of Gluck, penned by the ‘Anonyme de Vaugirard’.32 The Parisian battles over Gluck’s French operas did not go unnoticed by the German critics, who sometimes invoked their French colleagues when doing so would bolster their arguments.

Gluck in the German Press

The Gluck controversy in the German press had its own dynamics. Famous and infamous at the same time was an extensive article on Gluck’s Alceste published in 1771 in the Allgemeine Deutsche Bibliothek.33 Its author was Johann Friedrich Agricola, royal Prussian court composer for Frederick the Great.34 Agricola began by praising the opera’s choruses and ballets, then turned to Gluck’s preface for lengthy commentary. In his preface, Gluck had criticized the vanity of singers, who only wanted to display their virtuosity. Music, however, should not hold up the action with unnecessary melismas, but first and foremost should serve the poetry. For this reason he rejected the da capo aria, and declared he would sacrifice the rules, if this would enhance the emotional impact and the effect on the listener. Agricola was alarmed by the latter statement: ‘Vielleicht will er hiermit sehr

30 Musikalisch-Kritische Bibliothek, II (1778), p.390. 31 ‘Lettre de M. le Chevalier Gluck, à l‘Anonyme de Vaugirard’, Querelle, I, pp.280-281. 32 ‘Réponse de l‘Anonyme de Vaugirard, à M. le Chevalier Gluck’, Querelle, I, pp.282- 313. 33 ‘Alceste, Tragedia messa in Musica dal Sign. Gluck’, Allgemeine Deutsche Bibliothek, 14: 1 (1771), 3-27. The article treats the Viennese (Italian) version of Alceste, which had premièred there in 1767. When Gluck came to Paris, he produced Iphigénie en Aulide in 1774, and French versions of Orfeo and Alceste (Orphée et Euridice, 1774; Alceste, 1776). Highly successful were also his Armide (1777) and Iphigénie en Tauride (1779), while his last opera for Paris, Echo et Narcisse (1779), was a failure. 34 The review was published anonymously (signed: Bm). 80 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera großmüthig verbitten, daß man in seiner Composition nicht etwan verbotene Oktaven und Quinten, und holperiche Rythmen aufsuchen solle? –’ (‘Perhaps he wants to convey in a lordly manner that he will not tolerate a critical look at forbidden octaves and fifths, and awkward rhythms? –’).35 Agricola then proceeded to discuss the opera, criticizing some technical weaknesses and especially the lack of word repetition, as a result of which, he said, the music made no impression at all. Continuing, he criticized Gluck’s music which often even sank to a low and infantile level; he considered its monotony wearisome and the excessive use of accompanied recitatives bored the listener. Moreover, Agricola continued, many arias displayed stiff and dry melodies, and low, vulgar ideas. The musical ideas in Evandro’s aria, for example, were so coarse that it would be impossible to elevate them, despite the use of flutes and bassoons. In his harsh critique, Agricola reveals that he clearly subscribed to the Metastasian model of virtuosic opera seria and was unable to appreciate Gluck’s search for new levels of expression. A completely different tone was struck by author and aesthetician Friedrich Justus Riedel (1742-1785), who published a compilation of texts entitled Über die Musik des Ritters Christoph von Gluck (Vienna, 1775).36 The preface was dedicated to Gluck’s great importance in opera reform and was followed by two letters on Iphigénie en Aulide, the first of which was a German translation of Arnaud’s letter on this opera. The compilation concluded with an imaginary conversation among Lully, Rameau, and Orpheus in the Champs-Élysées. In 1778, music theorist and historian Johann Nicolaus Forkel reprinted Riedel’s compilation in his Musikalisch-Kritische Bibliothek.37 All of Arnaud’s arguments in favor of Gluck were now transformed into scathing criticisms. Forkel also critically examined Gluck’s principles of composition outlined in his foreword to Alceste and, finally, analyzed the passages in Iphigénie en Aulide that Arnaud had particularly praised. Overall, his conclusions were devastating: Gluck’s music was distinguished by pleonasms, technical flaws, and lack of harmonic and melodic invention. After harshly discounting

35 Allgemeine Deutsche Bibliothek, 14: 1 (1771), p.17. 36 Über die Musik des Ritters Christoph von Gluck. Verschiedene Schriften gesammelt und herausgegeben von Friedrich Just[us] Riedel (Vienna: Trattner, 1775). In 1767, Riedel had published his Theorie der schönen Künste und Wissenschaften (a compilation of works by several authors), which served as a rationale for his defense of Gluck’s ‘French style’. 37 Johann Nicolaus Forkel, ‘Ueber die Musik des Ritters Christoph von Gluck, verschiedene Schrifften gesammlet und herausgegeben, von Friedrich Just. Riedel [...] Eine Vorrede, 2 Briefe und ein Gespräch zwischen Lulli, Rameau und Orpheus in den elisäischen Feldern’, Musikalisch-Kritische Bibliothek, I (1778), 53-210. Ritter Gluck 81

Gluck’s compositional achievements, Forkel included three further contributions from the Allgemeine Deutsche Bibliothek (including Agricola’s review of Alceste, among others) and a very critical letter on Iphigénie en Aulide, which had appeared earlier in the Teutsche Merkur of March 1776. The letter was penned by Jean-François de La Harpe, spokesman of the Gluck critics in Paris. In stark contrast to his predecessor Agricola, Johann Friedrich Reichardt was an enthusiastic advocate of Gluck’s music. In the first volume of his Musikalisches Kunstmagazin, Reichardt compared Gluck’s setting of a scene from Alceste with Lully’s in order to show ‘wie unendlich wahrer und schöner sie im Gluck bearbeitet ist’. (‘how infinitely more beautifully and truly Gluck has treated it’.)38 Gluck had not yet been fully recognized by his admirers, Reichardt maintained, and he would therefore present such masterful songs to readers and singers more often in the future. In the second volume of his Kunstmagazin he kept his word and discussed yet another aria from Alceste, declaring that such a passionate expression of grief had never been achieved by any composer prior to Gluck. After describing all the incomparable beauties he found in the aria, Reichardt turned to Gluck’s critics, dismissing them scornfully as those who merely judged his works solely by referring to rules. It was a mistake, he insisted, to believe that one could judge Gluck’s works just by knowing the rules of strict musical composition, which would be as just and modest as to believe that one could judge Goethe’s works by knowing Adelung’s German grammar.39 How then should a musical composition be judged, if not according to established rules? Reichardt himself had just excused the aspects of Gluck’s music that did not follow the rules as artistic license, with freedom being the law of genius. He did not offer an alternative approach to judging musical works according to the rules of composition. Carl Friedrich Cramer’s Magazin der Musik was yet another venue praising the special quality of Gluck’s music and his important role in reforming French opera.40 As Reichardt had done in his Kunstmagazin, Cramer’s Magazin also criticized pedantic critics such as Forkel, whose judgments were established on the basis of conformity with rules.41 Cramer had compiled a collection of compositions for piano and voice by various composers including Gluck that was reviewed in his Magazin. The reviewer

38 Johann Friedrich Reichardt, Musikalisches Kunstmagazin, 1: 2 (1782), p.91. 39 Musikalisches Kunstmagazin, 2: 7 (1791), p.68. 40 Magazin der Musik, 1: 2 (1783), pp.788-789, 1205-1208; 2: 2 (1787), p.1325. 41 Magazin der Musik, 1: 2, pp.1080-1081; Magazin der Musik, 2: 1 (1785), p.450 fn.57. In addition to Forkel, Agricola, too, is accused of having an opaque mind. 82 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera emphasized the greatness and emotional depth of Gluck’s music and regretted that in Germany one only knew Gluck’s works for the French theater by hearsay or from the slander of his opponents.42 Frederick the Great had preferred Italian operas by Carl Heinrich Graun and Johann Adolph Hasse, while despising Gluck’s declamatory style. Only after Frederick’s death in 1786 could Gluck’s operas be staged in Berlin. The four productions Iphigenie auf Tauris (1795), Alceste (at the royal opera house, 1796), Armida (1805), and Iphigenie in Aulis (1809) received much attention in the music press.43 Since there were few original German works (one of the few exceptions being Mozart’s Zauberflöte), Gluck’s French operas served as alternatives to the predominantly Italian repertoire. Initially, they were received with great enthusiasm. Johann Gottlieb Karl Spazier’s essay Etwas über Glucksche Musik, und die Oper Iphigénie in Tauris auf dem Berlinischen Nationaltheater (1795) commended Gluck’s pure and noble style, which clearly distinguished his works from the ornate and implausible Italian operas.44 Not all critics were so enthusiastic, however, as Carl Friedrich Zelter’s extensive and highly critical review indicates.45 Entitled Ueber die Aufführung der Gluckschen Oper Alceste, auf dem königlichen Operntheater zu Berlin von 1796 (On the 1796 Performance of Gluck’s Opera Alceste at the Royal Opera House in Berlin),46 its very subtitle ‘Aus dem Briefe eines Künstlers’ (‘From the Letter of an Artist’) suggests that the review does not offer an analytical approach but rather aims to convey first impressions upon hearing the performance. The achievement of the musicians and the effect of the opera on the audience clearly are at the core of the review. Zelter praised the arias and the choruses but considered the first and third acts too long. Although he acknowledges Gluck as a second Homer, Zelter counters his praise by

42 Magazin der Musik, 2: 2 (1787), p.1352. 43 For Iphigenie auf Tauris, the translation by Johann Daniel Sander was used, not Johann Baptist von Alxinger’s translation for the 1781 Viennese performance. At the royal opera house, Alceste was performed in the Viennese, i.e. Italian, version. 44 Johann Gottlieb Karl Spazier (1761-1805) was a philosopher and theologian, who was known for his writing and song composition. He founded the Berlinische Musikalische Zeitung (1793-1794) and later the Zeitung für die elegante Welt (1801). 45 Carl Friedrich Zelter (1758-1832), representative of the second Berlin Liederschule, is especially remembered for his extensive correspondence (1796-1832) with Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. In 1800, after Carl Friedrich Christian Fasch’s death, Zelter became leader of the Berliner Singakademie (choral society), and also played an important role in the founding of educational institutions dedicated to music. 46 Deutschland, II, ed. by Johann Friedrich Reichardt (Berlin: Unger, 1796) (Nendeln/Liechtenstein: Kraus Reprint, 1971), 267-293. The review appeared anonymously. Ritter Gluck 83 remarking caustically that he [Gluck] certainly had his weak moments. According to Zelter, Gluck

[…] nimmt unsre Leidenschaft oft zu lange in Anspruch. Der größte Vorwurf den ihm die Kritik machen kann, besteht in der Überfüllung. Alles ist dick und voll bei ihm. […] Die starken Kontraste gelingen ihm bis zur Bewunderung, aber er häuft sie zu sehr und chargirt seine schönsten Gesänge mit Figuren und Nebensachen wodurch sie unklar werden. Wenn neben einer schönen Singstimme noch zwei oder drei Instrumentalbegleitungen hergehn, muß immer eins dabei verlieren.

([...] demands too much from our passions for too long. The most serious allegation a critic can make is that the texture is too rich. All is thick and full in his music. […] He handles stark contrasts admirably, but overuses them and obscures his most beautiful songs with figurations and secondary matters. If two or three instrumental parts play alongside a beautiful vocal line, one of them will inevitably lose out.)47

Zelter does defend Gluck’s style of composition, however, which had so often been criticized as incorrect: ‘Was Glucken hie und da an Reinigkeit abgeht, ersetzt ein Zusammenfluß von Umständen, die das Ohr in die Empfindung überleiten und womit er überaus glücklich feine Ohren zu bestechen weiß’. (‘The correctness that is sometimes missing in Gluck’s music, is compensated for by a combination of factors, which tune the ear to the appropriate emotion, and whereby the composer is highly successful in captivating keen-eared listeners’.)48 For Zelter, the value of a composition is determined not by compositional rules but by the ear. Sometimes, however, Gluck is accused of asking too much, as Zelter’s disapproval of the composer’s excessively full and rich texture indicates. Spazier, who had been overly enthusiastic just four years earlier, published a highly-critical essay in the AMZ issue of 20 March 1799.49 Entitled ‘Ueber Glucks Alceste’, Spazier castigates Gluck’s music as clearly lacking in variety due to the monotonous expression of tragic emotions, and retaining the same musical structure through recurring phrases of the same length, using the same rhythms and modulations. As a result, according to Spazier, his musical style was dry, constrained and poor. The continous tragic effects in the music wearied the soul, tortured the ear with their endless dissonant intervals, and exhausted the listener through slow and uniform movement. Not unity (‘Einheit’) but monotony (‘Einförmigkeit’)

47 Deutschland, II, pp.281-282. 48 Deutschland, II, pp.289-290. 49 AMZ 1: 25 (20 March 1799), cols 385-391. 84 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera characterized the opera.50 Spazier felt obliged to question both Gluck’s universal genius and his lack of technical mastery.51 Spazier’s negative judgment was therefore based in part on technical aspects, but partly also on the music’s effect on the listener. Spazier’s criticism vividly recalls Forkel’s stance, who twenty years prior had considered Gluck’s music ‘unpalatable’ due to its technical flaws. Zelter’s and Spazier’s criticisms may have stemmed partly from their reservations about Italian opera in general, even if the work at hand was a reform opera by Gluck. German critics tended to praise Gluck’s operas for Paris, as they could be used as opposing models to their Italian counterparts. Johann Friedrich Reichardt, on the contrary, never wavered in his defense of Gluck. In his Berlinische Musikalische Zeitung (1805, no. 10), he referred to the Mélanges de littérature, which featured essays by Abbé Arnaud and Suard, among others. Reichardt praised these Gluck enthusiasts, who had supported Gluck in the ‘civil war of the Gluckists and Piccinnists’. Reichardt also announced the scheduled performance of Gluck’s ‘unsurpassed masterpiece’, Armide, at the Berlin National Theater, and promised to present a closer examination of this work in the near future. In the same year (1805), in fact, he published an extensive essay on Gluck’s role in the history of opera, hailing him as the composer who had perfected the genre.52 Gluck, Reichardt claimed, had synthesized the Italian and French operatic styles:

Gluck, zum Beobachter und Reformator geboren, war in England von Händels großem einfachen Charakter, in Gesang und Harmonie, und in Paris von Rameau’s ächt tragischer Declamation und hoher Wahrheit im Ausdruck, und von seiner Chor- und Tanzbehandlung getroffen und gerührt, und von der Idee das alles zu einem großen tragischen Ganzen zu vereinigen, ganz erfüllt.

(Gluck was born to be a great observer and reformist. In England, he was struck and moved by the simple and sublime character of Handel’s music in song and harmony, and in Paris by Rameau’s truly tragic declamation and great expressive truth as well as by his treatment of chorus and dance. He was totally imbued with the idea of combining everything into a great tragic whole.)53

Reichardt subsequently interpreted Armide as Gluck’s response to the operatic war in Paris, and praised it as an ideal model of French tragic opera.

50 AMZ 1: 25, cols 387-389. 51 AMZ 1: 25, col.390. 52 Johann Friedrich Reichardt, ‘Etwas über Gluck und dessen Armide’, Berlinische Musikalische Zeitung (BMZ), 1: 28 (1805), 109-112. 53 BMZ, 1: 28, p.109. Ritter Gluck 85

In his review, composed after a dozen performances in Berlin, he offered particular praise for the final monumental scene, which never failed to have a great effect.54 Reichardt also commended the efforts of Kapellmeister Bernhard Anselm Weber, although he thought that Weber’s execution still left much to be desired.55 The orchestral parts, especially, still showed deficiencies and called for additional players and rehearsals.56 Nevertheless, the work had attracted a full house for each performance and the audience had welcomed it with great enthusiasm. Reichardt took up his pen again the following year, on the occasion of the performance of Iphigenie auf Tauris at the Berlin National Theater.57 He emphasized Gluck’s importance for the course of opera history yet again, asserting that in his Iphigenie auf Tauris, Gluck had intended to create a model of a perfect, stylistically-pure heroic-lyrical drama inspired by antiquity.58 In doing so, Gluck had transcended the various national styles: elements of French and Italian operatic traditions had been melded with the accomplishments of the German and early Dutch schools of instrumental music to create a unified whole. The opera created a world of true human emotions and characters, which was presented

in den reinsten, wahrsten, treffendsten und höchsten Accenten, in den bedeutendsten, durchgreifendsten, erschütterndsten Rhythmen, in den kraftvollsten Harmonien, in den sprechendsten, ausdruckvollsten Tönen und Figuren der eigentlichen Musik […] alles Unwesentliche, alles bloß Zierende und wollüstig Ergötzende durchaus beseitigend.

(in the purest, truest, most fitting and strongest accents, in the most meaningful, dramatic and thrilling rhythms, in the most powerful harmonies, in the most eloquent and expressive tones and figures of true music […] eliminating all irrelevant, embellishing, and lasciviously amusing elements.)59

Armide, on the contrary, was a product of the operatic war in Paris and embodied the most perfect example of French opera. The two operas, therefore, were incomparable and should be savored as two equally- delicious fruits, each of a different nature.60

54 Johann Friedrich Reichardt, ‘Ueber die Darstellung der Gluckschen Armide auf dem Berliner Nationaltheater’, BMZ 1: 61 (1805), 239-242 (p.240). 55 BMZ 1: 61, p.239. 56 BMZ 1: 61, pp.241, 242. 57 Johann Friedrich Reichardt, ‘Etwas über Glucks Iphigenia in Tauris und dessen Armide’, BMZ 2: 15 (1806), 57-60. 58 BMZ 2: 15, p.57. 59 BMZ 2: 15, p.58. 60 BMZ 2: 15, pp.57, 59. 86 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

On the one hand Gluck’s works provoked many critics, who were offended by his violation of compositional rules and reproached him for lacking imagination. On the other hand, there were critics who were impressed by the great expressive power of his music and excused deviations from the rules of composition as being part of the artistic license accorded a genius. Despite such admiration, many critics were still skeptical about the composer’s rich instrumentation or his abundant use of musical contrast. Reichardt, however, remained an unwavering advocate of Gluck’s operas, which he interpreted as modelling a synthesis of traditional national styles, bringing the history of opera to an unequalled climax.

E. T. A. Hoffmann’s Views on Gluck

In his musical writings Hoffmann tended to agree with Reichardt for the most part and, like Reichardt, emphasized Gluck’s crucial role in the history of opera.61 Just two months after sending his review of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony to the AMZ, he also provided a review of Georg Christoph Grosheim’s piano reduction of Iphigénie en Aulide.62 After pointing out its most admirable scenes, choruses, and ensembles, Hoffmann turned to the characteristics of Gluck’s music in general:

[…] so ist die Glucksche Oper das wahre musikalische Drama, in welchem die Handlung unaufhaltsam von Moment zu Moment fortschreitet. Alles was diesem Fortschreiten hinderlich ist, alles was des Zuhörers Spannung schwächen und seine Aufmerksamkeit auf Nebendinge – man möchte sagen, von der Gestalt auf den Schmuck – lenken kann, ist auf das sorgfältigste vermieden und eben die dadurch entstehende höchste Präzision erhält das Ganze energisch und kraftvoll. […] Nur die höchste Erkenntnis der Kunst, nur die unumschränkte Herrschaft über die Mittel des musikalischen Ausdrucks spricht sich in der hohen Simplizität aus, mit welcher der große Meister die stärksten, leidenschaftlichsten Momente des Drama behandelt.

(Gluck’s opera is true musical drama, in which the action moves forward without stopping from one moment to the next. Whatever hinders this forward motion, whatever might reduce the listener’s suspense and distract his attention to secondary matters – from the figure to its adornment, one could say – is most carefully avoided, and the extreme precision resulting from this vigorously sustains the whole. […] Only the highest artistic awareness, only an absolute mastery over the means of musical expression, can give rise to that noble

61 In his final review, discussed in Chapter Six, Hoffmann would reveal himself to have been a student of Reichardt. Schriften zur Musik, p.376. 62 AMZ 12: 48 & 49 (29 August & 5 September 1810), cols 770-773 & 784-789. Ritter Gluck 87

simplicity with which the composer treats the most passionate moments of the drama.)63

Gluck, Hoffmann continued, did not set words, but rather set to music the character’s state of mind or the force of the action to music. He illustrated this point with an example from Agamemnon’s great scene in the second act (Act II, Scene 7). Many composers would have depicted the words of each phrase of Agamemnon’s long lament expressively, but not Gluck. Instead of depicting individual words and phrases, he used the same musical figure to express all of Agamemnon’s inner struggles against the will of the gods. Indirectly reproaching Forkel for his negative conclusions, Hoffmann emphasized how Gluck’s setting remains solid and strong throughout by employing richly harmonic fabric and avoiding empty phrases. Gluck’s operas, he claimed, would therefore always remain classical masterpieces that every young composer embarking on serious tragic dramas cannot study enough.64 This did not mean, however, that Hoffmann thought that the music of other composers was unworthy or that nothing had changed since Gluck’s era. In his final review, written in 1821 while reflecting on the history of opera, he would comment directly on the dispute between Gluckists and Piccinnists, concluding that such battles can only be seen as foolish, if the intention is ‘einem bewährten großen Meister den wohlverdienten Lorbeer vom Kopfe zu reißen, um einen andern Meister, der eben so bewährt, der aber einen andern Weg eingeschlagen, damit zu krönen’. (‘to tear the well- earned laurel-wreath from the head of one great and venerated composer, merely to bestow it upon another, equally venerated but following a different direction’.)65 In his statement, Hoffmann clearly pointed out that the different traditions represented by both composers were equally valid, and that the decision to choose one over the other was merely a matter of taste. As a great admirer of the ‘soul-stirring power of expression’ of Gluck’s music, however, he did not conceal his preference. Notwithstanding his admiration for Gluck’s music, Hoffmann did not share Reichardt’s view that Gluck transcended all national styles and had brought opera to its apex:

Einem späteren Meister war die Macht vorbehalten, den hinreißendsten zauberischen Gesang der Italiener mit dem kräftigen Ausdruck der Deutschen, mit dem Reichtum, den die Instrumentalmusik sich indessen erworben, zu verbinden, so daß beides, Gesang und Begleitung, als ein organisches, demselben

63 Schriften zur Musik, p.64; Charlton, p.259. 64 Schriften zur Musik, p.66. 65 Schriften zur Musik, p.362; Charlton, p.439. 88 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Keim entsprossenes Ganzes ins Leben trat. […] Mozart brach neue Bahnen, und wurde der unnachahmliche Schöpfer der romantischen Oper.

(The ability to combine the most ravishing and enchanting vocal style of the Italians with the deep expressiveness of the Germans, together with the richness meanwhile gained by instrumental music, was vouchsafed a later composer; both singing and accompaniment were then brought forth as a single organic entity, derived from the same germ. […] Mozart broke new ground, and became the incomparable creator of romantic opera.)66

Hoffmann considered both masters, however, to be incomparable, since they lived and worked at different times in history, with different musical means and expectations. Comparing Gluck to Mozart, therefore, would be as naïve as comparing Aeschylus to Shakespeare and furthermore, would furnish proof of a total want of sensibility capable of appreciating art. Critical judgments, accordingly, should not be prejudiced by national traditions or historical styles. Gluck, however, had been damned to Hell by his opponents in both France and Germany; Hoffmann used Forkel’s ascerbic critique, in which he compared the overture to Iphigénie en Aulide to the quarrelling of peasants in a tavern, as an example of this. Forkel, Hoffmann continued, then cited numerous passages to demonstrate how crude, vulgar, and shallow Gluck’s music was, and the limitations of the composer’s theoretical knowledge. Hoffmann took not only offense at opponents of Gluck’s music, but also regarded misplaced defense of him as being possibly even more damaging. The source of Forkel’s harsh criticism, after all, had been a letter written by ‘a certain abbé’ [Arnaud], who had elevated the composer above all the clouds and stars ‘auf solche übertriebene, ungewaschene, unkennerische und unkünstlerische Weise’ (‘in such an exaggerated, effusive, amateurish, and unartistic manner’) that it could only harm Gluck.67 Hoffmann thus criticized the arguments of proponents and opponents alike. Although this review had been composed in 1821, the tale Ritter Gluck shows that Hoffmann was very familiar with the dispute relating to Gluck’s operas and its various arguments as early as 1809. The story features not only many of the anecdotes concerning the composer, but also information about Gluck’s Parisian operas, and even one that had not yet been staged in Berlin. Iphigenie in Aulis was first performed in Berlin on 25 December 1809, ten months after the publication of Ritter Gluck. It was therefore not a

66 Schriften zur Musik, p.363; Charlton, p.440. 67 Schriften zur Musik, p.360; Charlton, p.438. Ritter Gluck 89 performance that had formed the starting point of the tale, but rather a critical article in the press, namely Forkel’s attack on Gluck’s first Parisian reform opera in his Musikalisch-Kritische Bibliothek.68

Ritter Gluck: A Response to Forkel

Gluck’s first Paris reform opera is also the first opera performed in Hoffmann’s tale. Using Iphigénie en Aulide as an example, Arnaud had tried to demonstrate Gluck’s excellence. Forkel then made the opera the central target of his criticism, claiming that whoever appointed himself as a model in art and science should be free of any defects, for inaccuracies and grammatical mistakes obviously set very poor examples.69 His harshest criticism focused on the technical flaws of the opera’s overture. After pointing out how poorly-written, empty, and clumsy certain passages were, Forkel concluded that it was indeed astonishing that Mr. Arnaud dared to promote such a piece as a model to young artists; ‘Welch ein Ohr, und welche eine Einbildung gehört nicht dazu, dieses alles in dieser Sinfonie zu finden!’ (‘What an ear, and what an imagination it takes, to hear all of this [Arnaud’s praise] in this symphony!)’70 In this statement, Forkel thus forcefully expressed his outrage at Gluck’s musical treatment in the overture to Iphigénie en Aulide. In his tale, Hoffmann’s stranger begins to conduct this very overture as the narrator is complaining about grammatical inaccuracies in the music being performed by the café orchestra. The fact that the café orchestra is playing Gluck’s overture is a witty swipe at Forkel, who had stated: ‘Kurz, die Gluckische Gattung von edler Einfalt, gleicht dem Styl unserer Schenken-Virtuosen, der zwar Einfalt genug, aber auch zugleich viel eckelhaftes in sich hat’. (‘In short, Gluck’s version of noble simplicity resembles the musical style of our virtuosos of tavern music, a style which is simple enough, but at the same time also quite disgusting’.)71 Hoffmann’s tale interprets Forkel’s accusation quite literally: a café orchestra in Berlin is found not only to have Gluck’s music in its repertoire, but also music from

68 Dotzler, Oesterle, and R. Schmidt indicated this relation. Schmidt also refers to Wilhelm Heinse’s novel Hildegard von Hohenthal as an influence on the tale’s conception. Schmidt, Wenn mehrere Künste im Spiel sind, pp.38-39. 69 Forkel, Musikalisch-Kritische Bibliothek, I, p.137. 70 Forkel, Musikalisch-Kritische Bibliothek, I, p.140. 71 Forkel, Musikalisch-Kritische Bibliothek, I, p.127. In his review in the Allgemeine Deutsche Bibliothek, Agricola had similarly criticized an aria from Alceste for containing tavern- like ideas. 90 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera an opera that had not yet been performed publicly in the theater. The narrator is completely carried away by the rather-imperfect performance, and his ears and imagination now hear the musical qualities that Forkel had found to be lacking in Gluck’s music. Forkel had condemned Gluck’s vocal music and his melodies in general for being ‘ohne Biegsamkeit, ohne Reiz und ohne Kraft. Ein mageres Gerippe’ (‘without flexibility, without charm and without power; a meager skeleton’).72 The narrator, however, appraised the stranger’s conducting—and thus, Gluck’s music—quite to the contrary: ‘So belebte er das Skelett, welches jene paar Violinen von der Ouvertüre gaben, mit Fleisch und Farben’. (‘Thus he animated the skeleton of the overture introduced by the pair of violins and fleshed it out in lifelike colors’.)73 Hoffmann’s tale portrays a way of judging music that is in stark contrast to Forkel’s approach. While Forkel insists on compliance with ‘objective’ compositional rules, the narrator in Ritter Gluck trusts the evidence provided by his ears and his heart: ‘Ich hörte die sanfte, schmelzende Klage, womit die Flöte emporsteigt […]; ich hörte die leise anschlagenden Töne der Violoncelle, des Fagotts, die das Herz mit unnennbarer Wehmut erfüllen […]’. (‘I heard the soft, touching complaint raised by the flute […]; I heard the softly played tones of the cello and the bassoon which filled my heart with ineffable melancholy […]’.)74 The effect of the music is so moving that he does not even consider the rules to be valid criteria. Forkel had focused his criticism of Gluck’s operas on the absence of melismas, embellishments and cadenzas in the melodic lines and on the uneventful harmonic progressions—that is, on the absence, in Gluck’s music, of the musical conventions of opera seria. Forkel expressed this as follows:

Der erste Grundsatz des Herrn von Gluck geht überhaupt dahin, die dramatische Musik zu simplificiren, und ihr nicht nur alle Passagien und Melismen zu nehmen, sondern sogar die nothwendigsten Zierrathen, und ihren unentbehrlichsten Schmuck, ohne die unmöglich eine angenehme und fließende Melodie hervorgebracht werden kann, zu rauben.

72 Forkel, Musikalisch-Kritische Bibliothek, I, p.84. 73 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I: Frühe Prosa/Briefe/Tagebücher/Libretti/Juristische Schrift. Werke 1794-1813, ed. by Gerhard Allroggen and others (2003), p.503; E. T. A. Hoffmann, Fantasy Pieces In Callot’s Manner: Pages from the Diary of A Traveling Romantic, translated by Joseph M. Hayse (Schenectady, New York: Union College Press, 1996), p.7. 74 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.503; translation slightly changed from Hayse’s in Fantasy Pieces, p.7. Ritter Gluck 91

(The first and fundamental principle of Mr. Gluck is simplifying dramatic music, stripping it not just of all passage work and melismas, but even robbing it of the most essential embellishments and indispensable ornaments; for without these a pleasant and fluent melody cannot possibly be produced.)75

Forkel refutes this ‘fundamental principle of Mr. Gluck’ with the argument that it is the obligation of music, as the language of passions and emotions, to arouse these passions and emotions precisely by using its own unique means, namely, by employing melismas and all other melodic ornaments.76 Forkel furthermore objected to Gluck’s severely-restricted harmonic idiom, resulting in an endless alternation between tonic and dominant.77 Hoffmann’s tale counters these objections: the narrator accompanies the stranger to his room, where he sits down at the piano and plays the beginning of the overture to Armide, but with the most astonishing embellishments and variations:

[…] nun spielte er herrlich und meisterhaft, mit vollgriffigen Akkorden, das majestätische Tempo di Marcia, womit die Ouvertüre anhebt, fast ganz dem Original getreu: aber das Allegro war nur mit Glucks Hauptgedanken durchflochten. Er brachte so viele neue, geniale Wendungen hinein, daß mein Erstaunen immer wuchs. Vorzüglich waren seine Modulationen frappant, ohne grell zu werden, und er wußte den einfachen Hauptgedanken so viele melodiöse Melismen anzureihen, dass jene immer in neuer, verjüngter Gestalt wiederzukehren schienen.

([…] with full chord harmony, he played, beautifully, masterfully – almost true to the original – the majestic Tempo di Marcia that begins the overture. But Gluck’s major themes were only woven in and out of the Allegro. My astonishment grew at all the inspired new variations he introduced. His modulations were striking without being jarring. He managed to string together so many melodious embellishments to the simple main themes that the themes themselves seemed to return over and over in newer, rejuvenated forms.)78

The stranger’s performance demonstrates the reverse in Gluck’s music of what had been Forkel’s main points of criticism: rather than melodic poverty, the narrator hears brilliant variations and rich melismas, and instead of sterile repetitious harmonies, rich chords and striking modulations prevail.

75 Forkel, Musikalisch-Kritische Bibliothek, I, p.100. 76 Forkel, Musikalisch-Kritische Bibliothek, I, p.111. 77 Forkel, Musikalisch-Kritische Bibliothek, I, pp.136, 159. 78 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, pp.510-511; Fantasy Pieces, p.13. 92 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

The stranger’s performance of the overture, however, does not simply refute Forkel’s accusations, and the narrator had also called attention to the way in which the stranger had rejuvenated Gluck’s composition by enriching its harmonic and melodic texture. Time did not stand still, however, and by 1809 Gluck would compose differently than he had in 1774. Hoffmann would revisit his convictions in his later essay Alte und neue Kirchenmusik (Old and New Church Music).79 Due to the passage of time, he noted, it was simply impossible for a composer today to write in the same way as Palestrina, Leonardo Leo, and, later, Handel and others. This onward march of progress (‘forttreibender Weltgeist’) is responsible for changes in musical means and style, and if used wisely, the increased richness and perfection of instrumental music, for example, offer a ‘splendid and valuable asset’ to composers. Although every composer needs to learn the rules of counterpoint, only an in-depth study of the masterworks of the great composers could form the foundation for bringing an artist’s creative powers to life.80 While compositional rules are important in constructing a piece, creativity cannot spring from such rules and regulations. Accordingly, one cannot judge a musical work by technical criteria alone. Creative minds will be inspired by the creative minds of others, irrespective of the times in which they live and the means at their disposal:

Immer weiter fort und fort treibt der waltende Weltgeist; nie kehren die verschwundenen Gestalten, so wie sie sich in der Lust des Körperlebens bewegten, wieder: aber ewig, unvergänglich ist das Wahrhaftige, und eine wunderbare Geistergemeinschaft schlingt ihr geheimnisvolles Band um Vergangenheit, Gegenwart und Zukunft. Noch leben geistig die alten, hohen Meister [...].

(The prevailing spirit of the age forever drives us on an on; the vanished figures will never return with the joy that infused their earthly lives; but truth is eternal, imperishable, and a wondrous community of spirits spins its mysterious thread around past, present, and future. The great masters live on in spirit.)81

In the tale Ritter Gluck, the narrator experiences the spirit of Gluck’s works, understanding it is alive and well: Gluck’s spirit is preserved in the stranger’s improvisation, who has clothed it in modern fashion just as he himself has donned a modern coat.

79 First published in AMZ 16: 35-37 (31 August, 7 & 14 September, 1814), cols 577- 584, 593-603, 611-619. Schriften zur Musik, pp.209-235. 80 Schriften zur Musik, p.231. 81 Schriften zur Musik, p.235; Charlton, p.376. Ritter Gluck 93

Narrating Gluck’s Public Image

The Tiergarten café scene at the tale’s beginning had illustrated an inadequate way of judging music, for it is when the narrator exclaims ‘Welche rasende Musik! die abscheulichen Oktaven!’ (‘What maniacal music! Those atrocious octaves!’) that he hears a voice next to him murmuring: ‘Verwünschtes Schicksal! schon wieder ein Oktavenjäger!’ (‘Confounded fate! Another octave hunter!’)82 Only then does he notice that the odd stranger has sat down at his table and evidently does not approve of using textbook rules to judge music. When the narrator assures the stranger that he had learned the rule about forbidden octaves long ago and had always found it verified, the stranger replies by conducting the overture to Gluck’s Iphigénie en Aulide, the very work so harshly criticized by Forkel for its amateurish and clumsy composition. The narrator, however, hears none of the aspects to which Forkel objected, but hears instead, ‘the storm of violins and basses’, ‘the thunder of the kettledrums’, followed by ‘the soft, touching complaint’ of the flute and the ‘crushing tread’ of the returning tutti. The first skirmish with Forkel and other ‘octave-hunters’ has been won. Over the course of the story, the odd stranger reveals several characteristics that were already common knowledge in anecdotes and stories circulating about the composer. One well-known rumor, for example, was that Gluck (like Mozart) could compose entire works in his head before transcribing them on paper.83 Johann Friedrich Reichardt confirmed Gluck’s ingenious ability in his Musikalisches Kunstmagazin, as did Ernst Ludwig Gerber in his lexicon of composers.84 The odd stranger playing the overture to Armide from blank sheets of music paper is thus a new variation on an old theme. Images of composers were not only transmitted in anecdotes but also in paintings and, in particular, in engravings. The description of the odd stranger conducting the overture at the beginning of the tale recalls Joseph- Sifrède Duplessis’s painting of Gluck (see Figure 1).85 In this painting,

82 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.501; Fantasy Pieces, pp.5-6. 83 Friedrich Justus Riedel made this claim with reference to Iphigénie en Aulide in the publication (1775) reprinted by Forkel in 1778. (Forkel, Musikalisch-Kritische Bibliothek, I, pp.61-62.) The odd stranger also conducts this overture from memory. 84 Reichardt, Musikalisches Kunstmagazin, 1: 4 (1782), p.204; Ernst Ludwig Gerber, Historisch-biographisches Lexikon der Tonkünstler (1790-1792) und Neues historisch- biographisches Lexikon der Tonkünstler (1812-1814), ed. by Othmar Wessely, 4 vols (Graz: Akademische Druck- und Verlagsanstalt, 1966-1977), I: 1 A-M (1977), p.518. 85 This connection has been noted by various scholars; see, e.g., Schmidt, Wenn mehrere Künste im Spiel sind, pp.40-42 and especially Carl Dahlhaus and Norbert Miller,

94 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Gluck is sitting at the harpsichord with his head tilted back and eyes looking up as if receiving inspiration from above, one hand on the keyboard, and the other hand slightly raised. The narrator describes the odd stranger as follows:

[…] jetzt erhob er den Kopf – schnell warf er den Blick umher – die linke Hand, mit auseinandergespreizten Fingern, ruhte auf dem Tische, als greife er einen vollen Akkord auf dem Flügel, die rechte Hand hob er in die Höhe: es war ein Kapellmeister, der dem Orchester das Eintreten des andern Tempo’s angibt – die rechte Hand fällt und das Allegro beginnt!

(Then he raised his head and cast a quick look around; the left hand, with outspread fingers, moved across the table as if striking a chord on the piano, and he raised his right hand aloft. He was an orchestra conductor giving the orchestra a change in tempo: the right hand fell and the Allegro began!)86

The stranger shows the same posture of the inspired musician portrayed in Duplessis’s painting. In this way, the tale brings the image of Gluck to life by attributing well-known anecdotes and gestures to the stranger. By revealing more and more traits of Gluck, the stranger not only fascinates the narrator but also familiarizes him with the composer’s music from a new perspective. The narrator was no novice to the art of music but held the common views and prejudices he had been taught earlier. The stranger introduces the narrator to the spirit of Gluck’s music without relying on a technical musical analysis. It is important to note that it was not just the figure of the stranger that Hoffmann developed from public images and voices in the press. This is particularly striking in the case of the narrator. Scholars have emphasized the narrator’s musical knowledge and the fact that he was certainly no musical connoisseur, although he prided himself on knowing more than he actually did.87

Europäische Romantik in der Musik, 2 vols (Stuttgart: Metzler, 1999, 2007), I: Oper und symphonischer Stil 1770-1820, pp.27ff and II: Oper und symphonischer Stil 1800- 1850. Von E. T. A. Hoffmann bis Richard Wagner, p.58. 86 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.502; Fantasy Pieces, p.7. 87 See also the commentary in: Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/1, p.620. Ritter Gluck 95

Figure 1. Joseph-Sifrède Duplessis: Christoph Willibald von Gluck (1775), Kunst- historisches Museum Vienna, GG 1795.

The narrator shared his reliance on authority and rules, however, with respected critics such as Forkel and was modeled after voices in the press in other respects. He is puzzled, for example, when the stranger appears to dislike Berliners, and challenges the stranger on this point. After all, he maintains, an artist of the stranger’s stature should rather feel at home in a 96 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera city where art was so respected and performed on such a high level. The odd stranger counters the narrator’s assumption by remarking that Berlin artists and composers chatter so much about art and artistic sensitivity that they never manage to create anything themselves. The narrator disagrees, finding the stranger’s judgments to be far too harsh. He is convinced, though, that the city’s splendid theatrical performances must certainly please him.88 When the stranger, quite to the contrary, criticizes the performances of Mozart’s Don Giovanni and Gluck’s Iphigenie auf Tauris, the narrator admits that Mozart’s masterpieces are indeed being neglected but defends the performances of Gluck’s works, asserting that here in Berlin they are making every effort to restore Gluck’s works to prominence. The views on theater productions in Berlin expressed by the narrator correspond to those voiced by critics in the AMZ and BMZ. Reichardt is enthusiastic in his praise for Kapellmeister B. A. Weber’s performance of Armide at the Berlin National Theater:

Unser brave, von schönem Eifer für die große edle Kunst beseelte Capellmeister Weber hat mit den Sängern und dem Orchester acht und dreißig Proben, mit immer gleichem Eifer, gehalten, und wenn manches an der Exekution noch zu wünschen übrig bleibt, so liegt das sicher nicht an ihm. Er ist in den hohen Geist Glucks eingedrungen, hat die Ausübenden mit Bestimmtheit auf die rechte Bahn geleitet, und mit Geist und Feuer angeführt und unterstützt.

(Our worthy Kapellmeister Weber, who is filled with real enthusiasm for great art, has held thirty-eight rehearsals with the singers and the orchestra, all with the same diligence. If much in the execution is still left to be desired it certainly is not his fault. He closely familiarized himself with Gluck’s high spirit, guided the performers resolutely on the right path, and led and supported them with spirit and verve.)89

The AMZ likewise praised Weber for his direction of Armide, stating that the performance of the orchestra surpassed all expectations and thanking Kapellmeister Weber for his tireless efforts to grant such a rare treat, while avoiding disturbing flaws and defects as much as possible.90 A critic from the BMZ also commented on the performance of Iphigenie auf Tauris on 19 July 1805 in glowing terms, praising the orchestra’s precision, the diligence of the singers and actors, and the grace of the dancers. The overall production met the standard they had already set in their earlier

88 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.507. 89 BMZ 1: 61 (1805), p.239. 90 AMZ 7: 37 (12 June 1805), col.595. Ritter Gluck 97 performance of Armide.91 The AMZ critic of the piano reduction of Iphigénie en Aulide also sang the praises of Gluck performances in Berlin: ‘Das Berliner Nationaltheater theilt nur mit einigen wenigen andern deutschen Bühnen den Vorzug, dass Glucksche Opern gegeben; aber mit keiner den, dass ihrer so viele, so oft, so gut, und folglich auch mit so vielem Beyfall gegeben werden’. (‘The Berlin National Theater shares with just a few other theaters the advantage that operas by Gluck are being staged, but it is second to none in staging so many of his works, so often, so well, and thus with so much acclaim’.)92 A correspondent from Dessau even calls Weber a ‘Gluckist’ after seeing him conduct Armide in Berlin.93 The narrator in the tale was echoing these opinions voiced in the press when he touted the Gluck performances on the Berlin stage. His observations are fully in unison with those of a correspondent from the AMZ, lamenting the neglect of Mozart’s operas while admiring the way Gluck was being revived:

[Wir] erwarten übrigens von der Thätigkeit und dem Eifer des Kapellm.s Weber möglichste Vervollkommnung der deutschen Oper, wozu er allerdings schon sehr vieles durch die sorgsame Aufstellung Gluckscher Musik thut. Indessen – Eins thun und das Andere nicht lassen! Es wäre doch zum allerwenigsten seltsam und undankbar – z. B. Mozartsche Opern zurückzusetzen. Dieser einzige Genius – gegen den Hr. W, wenigstens was Theatermusik anlangt, nicht die günstigsten Vorurtheile zu hegen scheint, wie theils die seltene Aufführung dieser Opern, theils so manches in diesen Aufführungen selbst verräth […].

([We] expect that the activities and the enthusiasm of Kapellmeister Weber will bring the German opera close to perfection. He certainly has already contributed greatly to this end through his careful arrangement of Gluck’s music. Meanwhile, do one thing without neglecting the other! It would be greatly unusual and ungrateful to say the least, to neglect, for example, Mozart’s operas. This unique genius – Mr. W, however, seems to be unfavorably prejudiced at least against his music for the theater, as the infrequent staging of these operas as well as many aspects of such performances reveal […].)94

One aspect of a performance to which the critic objected was the tempo that Weber chose for Act II, Scene 5 of Don Giovanni when the statue appears—the climax of the work—which he took almost twice as fast as Mozart had done in Prague.95 In Hoffmann’s tale, it was the odd stranger

91 BMZ 1: 64 (1805), p.253. 92 AMZ 10: 49 (31 August 1808), col.776. 93 AMZ 11: 8 (23 November 1808), col.118. 94 AMZ 10: 11 (9 December 1807), col.175. 95 AMZ 10: 11, col.176. 98 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera who also criticized the use of a too-hasty tempo, this time in the overture of the same opera, ‘welche Prestissimo, ohne Sinn und Verstand abgesprudelt wurde […]’ (‘which was all bubbled up prestissimo, without sense or reason […]’).96 The narrator agreed with the stranger’s criticism of the Mozart performances.97 While the narrator voices general opinions found in the music press, the stranger conveys insights of a few select connoisseurs, including Hoffmann himself. Friedrich Rochlitz felt uncomfortable with the harsh criticism of Kapellmeister Weber and decided to eliminate some passages from the manuscript. Hoffmann comments on this in his letter to the editor of 29 January 1809:

zu dem gerügten Ausfall gegen W[eber] konte mich daher auch nur der tiefe Aerger aufregen, den ich in B[erlin] empfand wenn ich die hohen Meisterwerke Mozarts erst auf dem Theater mißhandeln sah’ und denn darüber so gemein aburtheilen hörte als wären es Exercitia eines Anfängers.

(Hence, my attack against Weber, which you censored, could be sparked only by the profound irritation I experienced in Berlin where I saw the sublime masterworks of Mozart first maltreated on the stage and then reviewed in such a vulgar manner as though they were mere exercises of a beginner.)98

As the original version of Hoffmann’s text has been lost, it is impossible to know exactly what his ‘attack’ on Weber contained.99

Berlin: An Operatic Backwater

Although Ritter Gluck contains quotations from then-current discourses on Gluck, they are not presented as being equally valid. Rather, the odd stranger educates the narrator over the course of the story. His is the principal voice and he also has the last word: ‘I am Ritter Gluck!’ This revelation gives his voice even more authority. The question raised, then, is why this strange figure, who gains increasing authority as he adopts more and more of Gluck’s traits, is wandering around in Berlin at all? Why was Hoffmann at such great pains to describe Berlin’s cultural topography? The

96 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.508; Fantasy Pieces, p.11. 97 Hoffmann himself shared this criticism of Mozart performances, which would provide a major impulse for the conception of his tale Don Juan (see Chapter Two). 98 Briefwechsel, I, p.264; Selected Letters, p.145. 99 His letter to the editor of 15 April 1809 contains just a few hints of eliminated elements. Briefwechsel, I, pp.279-280. Ritter Gluck 99 odd stranger’s words reveal part of the answer: ‘Zu meiner Qual bin ich verdammt, hier, wie ein abgeschiedener Geist, im öden Raume umher zu irren. […] Ja, öde ists um mich her, denn kein verwandter Geist tritt auf mich zu. Ich stehe allein’. (‘I am condemned to the torment of wandering this wasteland like a departed spirit. […] Yes, all around me is wasteland because no kindred spirit comes near me. I stand alone’.)100 The subsequent short conversation about the state of the arts in Berlin provides further hints. Indeed there are no ‘kindred spirits’ in Berlin, for not even B. A. Weber, the music director of the opera, is capable of fully comprehending and performing Gluck’s dramatic intentions on stage. Music critics are scarcely more insightful, however, and sing Weber’s praises instead. One could even interpret the ‘Webersches Bezirk’ (the area where café Weber is located) and the cacophonic orchestra at the opening of the tale as a malicious allusion to B. A. Weber’s theater. The tale, however, does not allude only to the shortcomings of a single music director and the accompanying critical voices in the press. Gluck’s banishment to Berlin would have had major consequences for operatic history. During his lifetime, the historical Gluck had mounted his reform operas on the stages of the two major operatic centers outside of Italy: Vienna and Paris. In Vienna, Gluck had reformed Italian opera seria in collaboration with his librettist Raniero de’ Calzabigi. His move to Paris in the mid-seventies had a major impact on the discourses and developments surrounding French tragédie lyrique. Both cities continued to be leading centers of operatic developments, with Antonio Salieri and Mozart working in Vienna and Luigi Cherubini and Étienne Nicolas Méhul in Paris. By comparison, the Prussian capital Berlin was an operatic backwater. During the reign of Frederick the Great, Gluck’s works were banished from the stage while Italian operas, mainly those composed by Carl Heinrich Graun and Johann Adolph Hasse, were favored. Frederick’s successor, Friedrich Wilhelm II, also preferred Metastasian opera seria. Vincenzo Righini and Friedrich Heinrich Himmel, who assumed direction of the court opera after Reichardt’s dismissal in 1794, failed to institute stylistic and aesthetic changes and increase the visibility and status of the Berlin opera. The opera house, moreover, was closed after Napoleonic troops marched into Berlin in 1806. From its inception in 1786 the National Theater, where operas in the German language were performed, had coped with financial problems, along with a shortage of good singers and a German opera repertory. A series of Kapellmeister— Johann André, Johann Christian Frischmuth, Carl Bernhard Wessely, and

100 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.507; Fantasy Pieces, p.10. 100 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Bernhard Anselm Weber—barely achieved supra-regional reputations, and certainly had no impact on the European stage. Someone of Gluck’s stature in Berlin would therefore have found no ‘kindred spirit’ there and would have felt alone and abandoned. The narrator in Hoffmann’s tale reveals his ignorance when he replies to the stranger’s plaint by referring to Berlin’s many artists and composers. However, the stranger curtly counters: ‘Weg damit! Sie kritteln und kritteln’ (‘Away with them! They carp and criticize’). Continuing, he laments their utter lack of creative power, and even if for once they come up with a couple of ideas, the awful cold reveals their great distance from the sun: ‘es ist Lappländische Arbeit’ (‘It is Lapplandish work’).101 The remarks of the odd stranger bring to the fore the lack of an operatic tradition in Berlin and a misplaced pride in the theater’s achievements. Berlin was still awaiting the arrival of an inspirational figure à la Gluck who would raise the opera to a European level.

A Tale Illuminated by Music

Hoffmann does not limit his realistic narrative style to describing a late- summer afternoon in a Berlin garden café during the Napoleonic occupation with references to contemporary music criticism. Hoffmann is generally viewed, along with Wackenroder and Tieck, as being a co-founder of a characteristic nineteenth-century literary phenomenon: the music tale. This genre centers primarily on the figure of an eccentric, socially-isolated, but highly-inspired music lover, musician, or composer. Hoffmann’s tales, however, clearly distinguish themselves from the models they helped to establish. Besides the customary portrayal of an eccentric music enthusiast, his tales contain very explicit references to the contemporary music scene, including specific musical passages, and even individual measures. The topic of opera was itself innovative, as it had not been a popular subject for narrative works prior to Ritter Gluck.102 Hoffmann’s first effort in this genre exemplifies all of these specific distinguishing features. Why are the musical examples so prominent in the story, however, and what do they illuminate? The press debates had been triggered by Iphigénie en Aulide, and in the tale, the stranger reveals himself to be a musician by conducting the latter’s overture. Forkel had not been the only one irritated by this piece, and even

101 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.507; Fantasy Pieces, p.10. 102 Ruth E. Müller, Erzählte Töne. Studien zur Musikästhetik im späten 18. Jahrhundert, Beihefte zum Archiv für Musikwissenschaft, XXX, ed. by Hans Heinrich Eggebrecht (Stuttgart: Steiner, 1989), p.19. Ritter Gluck 101 the always-supportive Reichardt expressed his reservations. Writing from Paris, where he had attended a performance, he observed:

Ich habe mich aber des alten Wunsches wieder nicht erwehren können, dass man doch die kleine, künstliche, zweystimmige Einleitung in der weichen Tonart weglassen, und gleich mit dem imposanten Satz in der harten Tonart anfangen möchte. Es liegt dabey freylich, wie überall in Glucks Werken, eine feine Idee zum Grunde, die aber in der Ausführung nicht von der mindesten Wirkung ist.

(Again I could not keep myself from thinking that I wish they would start with the impressive section in the major key, and omit the small, artificial, two-part introduction in minor. Obviously there is a subtle idea behind it, as everywhere in Gluck’s works, but it has no effect whatsoever during a performance.)103

In Hoffmann’s tale, the overture now is described additionally as being performed by a miserable ‘orchestra’. Nevertheless the music enchants the narrator, because the stranger himself is completely absorbed by the music, identifying with it, and in his performance conveys to the narrator the concept of the whole. Steven Paul Scher has discussed how this musical performance is verbalized.104 First, the stranger’s gestures are the center of attention: the tapping of his foot and the movements of his head and hands. Then his facial expressions are described: his frown, his fading smile, his fiery expression, the play of muscles around his mouth, and his shining eyes. Finally, the music itself is addressed:

Ich hörte die sanfte, schmelzende Klage, womit die Flöte emporsteigt, wenn der Sturm der Violinen und Bässe ausgetobt hat und der Donner der Pauken schweigt; ich hörte die leise anschlagenden Töne der Violoncelle, des Fagotts, die das Herz mit unnennbarer Wehmut erfüllen: das Tutti kehrt wieder, wie ein Riese hehr und groß schreitet das Unisono fort, die dumpfe Klage erstirbt unter seinen zermalmenden Tritten.

(I heard the soft, touching complaint raised by the flute when the storm of violins and basses had raged itself out and the thunder of the kettledrums had fallen silent. I heard the softly played tones of the cello and the bassoon which filled the heart with ineffable melancholy. The tutti returns; the unisono strides on like a sublime and majestic giant, the muffled lament dies away under his crushing tread.)105

103 AMZ 6: 20 (15 February 1804), cols 319-320. The AMZ is quoting from Reichardt’s Vertraute Briefe aus Paris geschrieben in den Jahren 1802 und 1803, 2 vols (Hamburg: Hoffmann, 1804) 104 Scher, Verbal Music, pp.60-67, 71-75. 105 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.503; transl. based on Fantasy Pieces, p.7. Hayse trans-

102 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

The description of the musical performance thus moves from gestures, via facial expressions, to the music and the feelings that it evokes. This illustrates how the narrator is drawn into the performance of the music, a process which is also made clear by the changes in verb tense: the preterite ‘I heard’ in the above quote indicates a reflecting distance to the music, while the sudden change to the present tense (‘the tutti returns’) makes this distance disappear. The transition from gestures to facial expressions is marked as well by a change from the preterite to the present tense, a change which coincides musically with the beginning of the Allegro.106 These instances mirror the idea of the entire tale: With the help of the strange composer, the narrator is increasingly captivated by the music.107 At first, the description of the music in the quotation above does not seem very specific. It does provide information about instrumentation, however, which is linked to an emotional state of mind (‘touching complaint’, ‘ineffable melancholy’) or a force of nature (a storm, thunder). The last unisono tutti is personified as a giant. These allusions serve to identify the musical passages they are referring to: ‘the soft, touching complaint’ of the flutes begins in m. 39 (Musical Example 1), ‘the softly played tones of the cello and the bassoon’ refer to mm. 88, 90, 92 and 94 (Musical Example 2), and the tutti, striding on ‘like a sublime and majestic giant’ returns in mm. 179f (Musical Example 3).

Musical Example 1: Iphigenie in Aulis, Act I, Ouverture, Allegro, mm. 40-47.

lates the last sentence in the preterite, while Hoffmann suddenly changes to the present tense. 106 For reflections on verb tense, see also Scher, Verbal Music, pp.59-60, 65. 107 Shortly after conducting the overture, the stranger offers the following explanation as to why he shies away from Berliners: ‘[…] I am a composer’. Ritter Gluck 103

Musical Example 2: Iphigenie in Aulis, Act I, Ouverture, Allegro, mm. 86-95.

Musical Example 3: Iphigenie in Aulis, Act I, Ouverture, Allegro, mm. 180-187.

These passages are essential moments in the course of the composition. The unisono tutti striding on towards the end of the overture had also marked the beginning of the exposition and established the tonic C major. Variants of the theme subsequently emphasized key moments of the overture: the arrival of the second section in the dominant (G major), the beginning of the middle or developmental section (A major - D minor) and the beginning 104 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera of the recapitulation (C major). The ‘crushing tread’ of this tutti therefore articulates the formal structure of the composition. Forkel had targeted the theme in his harsh critique. He criticized the poor and clumsy modulation, the ill-conceived meter, the smug presentation, and most of all the lack of a clearly-articulated meaning.108 Forkel went on to criticize the compositional errors in the return of the tutti motif (beginning of the second section, m. 50): ‘Die Oboen gehen noch eine Octave höher mit dem Basse und der Bratsche im Einklang, und die Violinen halten den Accord G’. (‘The oboe continues in unison one octave above the bass and viola, while the violins hold the G chord’.)109 The narrator in Ritter Gluck might have echoed judgments such as these when he exclaimed, ‘atrocious octaves’, but was silenced when the stranger immediately began conducting this very overture. Most important, however, is the decisively-different approach to music that this story offers. While Forkel concentrates on the correctness or incorrectness of certain passages, he never considers their function and meaning within the composition as a whole. The narrator clearly articulates this distinction in understanding music. The ‘softly played tones of the cello and the bassoon’ refer to the motif—derived from the tutti theme—at the beginning of the developmental section, the harmonically-unstable part in the middle of the piece. The ‘touching complaint’ of the flute appears just before the second section in the dominant, contrary to customary practice, and sounds more like a final, vain attempt to hold on to the tonic. The tutti in the dominant key, however, follows relentlessly. The flute elegy returns at the end of the middle section, just before the tutti announces the recapitulation. Notwithstanding the distinct melodic character of the flute passages, they still fulfill a transitional function, announcing the next stages of the composition (second section and recapitulation). Instead of using music examples or technical vocabulary, the narrator invents a narrative to underline the various musical functions. Without giving specifics, he sketches a drama in which the flute melody, which tries to hold on to the tonic, is interpreted as a soft, touching complaint, unable to escape fate and ‘like a sublime and majestic giant’ the tutti enters each time, confirming the new key and mercilessly driving the piece forward. Although the narrator’s description does not represent a detailed program underlying the music, it does establish a clear connection to the opera that follows. Agamemnon must sacrifice his daughter Iphigénie to the goddess Diana, who is remorseless in her rejection of Iphigénie’s and

108 Forkel, Musikalisch-Kritische Bibliothek, I, pp.134, 135. 109 Forkel, Musikalisch-Kritische Bibliothek, I, p.138. Ritter Gluck 105

Klytamnestra’s laments and prayers.110 The narrator thus hears the essence of the drama anticipated in the overture. The close connection between the overture and the opera as a whole is precisely the topic of the conversation between the narrator and the stranger on that same evening. The stranger is upset because during a performance of Iphigenie auf Tauris, the orchestra had first played the overture to Iphigenie in Aulis, thus destroying the dramatic idea of the original beginning:

Die ganze Wirkung, die ganze wohlberechnete Exposition des Trauerspiels geht verloren. Ein stilles Meer – es entsteht ein Sturm – die Griechen werden ans Land geworfen, die Oper ist da! – Wie? hat der Komponist die Ouvertüre ins Gelag hineingeschrieben, daß man sie, wie ein Trompeterstückchen, abblasen kann wie und wo man will?

(The entire plot, the calculated exposition of the tragedy, was lost. A peaceful sea, the storm, then the Greeks are cast up on land and the opera begins! – What? Did the composer write the overture as a dish for a buffet menu, like a trumpet fanfare they can blow wherever and however they wish?)111

It was in fact customary to perform the overture of Iphigenie in Aulis as an overture to Iphigenie auf Tauris, since the latter work lacked a proper overture. Moreover, the overture was also played as an independent piece during concerts.112 The stranger does not approve of this practice and was actually not alone in his critique: Reichardt, too, had criticized the practice of beginning the opera with the earlier overture. The BMZ had noted, with respect to a performance of Iphigenie auf Tauris on 19 July 1805 at the

110 In the mid-nineteenth century Richard Wagner published an article on this overture, questioning whether there was a poetic idea behind the piece. He immediately replied in the affirmative and laid out a program that partially recalls Hoffmann’s tale: The opening Andante was an outcry of the heart, followed by a motif of commanding vigor (the unison tutti). The third motif was one of grace and maidenly tenderness (Hoffmann’s ‘soft, touching complaint’ of the flute), and the fourth conveyed painful and agonizing compassion. Richard Wagner, ‘Gluck’s Ouvertüre zu “Iphigenia in Aulis”’, Neue Zeitschrift für Musik, 41: 1 (1 July 1854), 1-6 (p.4). 111 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.508; Fantasy Pieces, p.11. 112 The AMZ, for example, reported on a concert in Berlin in which this overture was played as a final piece (AMZ 7: 10 (5 December 1804), col.157). Another example is the use of the overture to accompany a pantomime featuring eight sword fighters (AMZ 10: 52 (21 September 1808), col.832). The stranger was surely referring to these types of performances when he complained about the misuse of the overture, which was blown how and where one wanted to ‘like a trumpet fanfare’. In the mid- nineteenth century, it was still the custom to use the overture as an introduction to Iphigénie en Tauride or as a concert piece, as Wagner’s article reveals. Wagner, ‘Gluck’s Ouvertüre zu “Iphigenia in Aulis”’, p.2. 106 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

National Theater, that Kapellmeister Weber had wisely added the overture to Iphigenie in Aulis because the public could not enjoy an opera without an overture. Reichardt, the journal’s editor, however, remarked in a footnote:

Es ist ein Irrthum zu glauben, daß Glucks Einleitung zur Iphigenie in Tauris keine Ouverture sei […]. Jeder Zuhörer von feinem Gefühl muß bei einer zweiten, dritten Vorstellung fühlen, […] daß die gewaltig trotzende, hochherrliche Ouverture, die man hier anwendet, zu ganz andern Gefühlen und Erwartungen stimmt, als hier befriedigt werden.

(It is a mistake to believe that the introduction to Iphigenie in Tauris is not an overture […]. Every listener with refined taste will feel after a second or third performance […] that the tremendously-brave, splendid overture that is used here, is preparing for completely different emotions and expectations than the ones that are fulfilled.)113

Five years earlier, an anonymous critic in the AMZ had reached a similar conclusion, noting that the overture to Iphigenie auf Tauris was the ‘most splendid imaginable’ because it fit the piece precisely: ‘[…] denn der Seesturm, den der Dichter hier so glücklich motivirt hat, ist die Ouverture und dem Komponisten blieb schlechterdings nichts übrig, als, zu malen was auf dem Theater vorgeht’. (‘For the storm at sea, so effectively motivated by the poet, is the overture and the composer could not help but paint what was happening on stage’.)114 These efforts to defend and explain the unconventional beginning of the opera demonstrates that it had not yet been accepted on the stage. Many years later, Friedrich Rochlitz would continue to defend the practice of adding a ‘proper’ overture in his review of Hoffmann’s Fantasiestücke in Callot’s Manier, when he singled out the stranger’s critical comments about the added overture:

Der keck und sicher gezeichnete Held dieser Geschichte empört sich, S. 35, dass man in Berlin (und fast durch ganz Deutschland) Glucks Iphigenien in Tauris die Ouverture zu seiner Iphigenie in Aulis vorsetze. […] Was aber die Hauptsache, und von diesem neuen Gluck übersehen ist: der alte, ächte Meister wollte selbst nicht, dass die wenigen Takte sanfter Einleitung zur Iphigenia in Tauris ihr als Ouverture dienten, sondern, der ehemaligen Sitte auf dem pariser Theater gemäss, (welcher sich auch noch z.B. Salieri mit seinem Tarare oder Axur fügen musste,) ging dieser Oper ein allegorisches Vorspiel voraus, von welchem dann dieser Satz den kurzen Uebergang zur Oper selbst bildete.

113 BMZ 1: 64 (1805), p.253. 114 AMZ 3: 12 (17 December 1800), col.187. Ritter Gluck 107

(The so deftly and boldly characterized hero of this story is up in arms against the common practice in Berlin (and almost everywhere else in Germany) of preceding Gluck’s Iphigenie in Tauris with the overture to Iphigenie in Aulis. […] The main point, however, overlooked by this new Gluck, is the following: the old, real master himself didn’t want the few soft introductory measures to Iphigenia in Tauris to be used as an overture. As was the custom at the Paris theater, the opera was preceded by an allegorical prologue and this passage merely formed the short transition to the opera proper. (Salieri in his Tarare and Axur had to adhere to the same practice.))115

Rochlitz pursued his argument by pointing out that Gluck’s student, Salieri, had tossed out this prologue and replaced it with a full-fledged overture when he staged his Axur in other theaters. Without doubt, Rochlitz maintained, Gluck would have done the same had he been in a similar situation. Rochlitz was mistaken on both counts, however. Immediately following the Paris première, critics in the French press were astonished at the missing overture.116 Gluck himself provided a German version for the Viennese stage in collaboration with Johann Baptist Alxinger, which premièred on 23 October 1781. He adjusted the melody and rhythm of the vocal lines to accommodate the new German text. He also made changes in the orchestral parts, and the new casting (Thoas now a deep bass, Orestes a tenor instead of a baritone) required further adjustments. Major changes were also made to the end of the second act. Nonetheless there is no new overture, which supports the view that Gluck did indeed want to have the opera begin in medias res, without a separate overture.117

115 AMZ 16: 33 (17 Augustus 1814), col.544. 116 See the Mémoires secrètes of 18 May 1779, or the ‘Annonce de l’opéra d’Iphigénie en Tauride de M. le Chevalier Gluck’ in the Journal de Paris (19 May 1779), which calls attention to the following innovation: ‘La Pièce commence, pour ainsi dire, avec le premier coup d’archet, & n’a pas de Symphonie qu’on appelle proprement Ouverture’. (‘The piece begins, as it were, with the first coup d’archet, and has no symphony which one would strictly call an overture’.) Querelle, I, p.428. The anonymous author of the ‘Lettre sur Iphigénie en Tauride, de M. Chevalier Gluck’ (Mercure de France, 15 June 1779) also elaborated on the unconventional overture. Querelle, I, pp.432-435. 117 The Gluck-Alxinger version was soon superseded by Johann Daniel Sander’s translation. It was also not uncommon to add newly-composed ballet music (already practiced in France, where François-Joseph Gossec had, for example, provided a closing ballet). A review from the AMZ in 1808 praises the dances composed and added by Weber during the opera’s performance in celebration of the birthday of the queen (10 March), and also refers to a preceding overture (most likely the overture of Iphigénie en Aulide). AMZ 10: 27 (30 March 1808), col.424. 108 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

In criticizing the common practice of putting the overture from the older work in front of Iphigenie auf Tauris, the stranger draws attention to other issues besides the technical aspects relating to strict composition. He now emphasizes the concept of the whole and the role that music plays in depicting, or in this case anticipating, the plot. Additions and omissions may therefore only damage the work and render it meaningless. In the tale, the discussion of the overtures was preceded by another scene relating to Iphigénie en Tauride. After conducting the overture to Iphigénie en Aulide, the stranger agreed to the narrator’s suggestion to go inside. Here he revealed himself to be a composer and voiced his dislike of Berliners. He rose, pacing up and down a few times: ‘dann trat er ans Fenster und sang kaum vernehmlich den Chor der Priesterinnen aus der Iphigenia in Tauris, indem er dann und wann bei dem Eintreten der Tutti an die Fensterscheiben klopfte’. (‘Then he went to the window and almost inaudibly sang the priestesses’ chorus from Iphigenia in Tauris, now and again tapping on the window pane at the entrances of the tutti’.)118 With astonishment, the narrator noticed certain melodic variations of remarkable strength and novelty. Which chorus is the stranger singing, and how does it relate to Berlin? Since the stranger is tapping on the windowpane to indicate the entrance of the tutti, only two choruses are possible: ‘Grands Dieux! Soyez-nous secourables’, sung immediately at the beginning of the opera, or ‘Contemplez ces tristes apprêts’ at the end of the second act.119 The narrator does not give further details but his reference to ‘the’ chorus of the priestesses seems to imply that, to contemporaries, it was clear which chorus the stranger is singing. The context of the tale, however, offers further hints for identifying the music. The chorus at the end of Act II, ‘Contemplez ces tristes apprêts’, is in fact identical to a chorus in the first act from the earlier

118 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.504; Fantasy Pieces, p.8. 119 The new edition of Hoffmann’s complete works corrects, for the first time, the erroneous assumption that the ‘chorus of the priestesses’ was identical to the hymn ‘Chaste fille de Latone’ from Act IV. This assumption had been proposed by Georg Ellinger (E. T. A. Hoffmanns Werke in fünfzehn Teilen, XII-XV, Anmerkungen, p.149) and adopted by other editions and secondary literature without questioning its accuracy. See, for example, E. T. A. Hoffmann, Poetische Werke, ed. by Gerhard Seidel, I, p.627; Hoffmanns Werke in drei Bänden, ed. by Gerhard Schneider, (Berlin: Aufbau-Verlag, 1986), I, p.258. E. T. A. Hoffmann, Fantasie- und Nachtstücke, ed. by Walter Müller-Seidel, Anmerkungen von Wolfgang Kron (Munich: Winkler, 1967), p.778; Liebrand, Aporie des Kunstmythos, p.26, fn.18. The commentary in Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/1, p.622, lists possible choruses but concludes that only two of them (‘Grand Dieux!’ and ‘Contemplez’) feature an alternation between solo and chorus. Ritter Gluck 109 opera Iphigénie en Aulide, ‘Que d’attraits, que de majesté!’120 It even is in the same key. Given the fact that the stranger was singing ‘almost inaudibly’, it would have been difficult for the narrator to understand the words. It would have been more likely for the narrator to identify the chorus with the earlier opera since the stranger had just conducted its overture. However, he immediately recognizes the chorus as being ‘the’ chorus from Iphigenie auf Tauris. Another argument concerning the way the stranger is singing also speaks against ‘Contemplez ces tristes apprêts’. The narrator noticed ‘certain melodic variations of remarkable strength and novelty’. This is the moment in the opera when the deeply-afflicted Iphigénie, together with the moaning priestesses, are preparing for the sacrifice. It would not be the most appropriate moment to impress listeners with the ‘strength and novelty’ of its musical depiction.121 With regard to its content, the tale strongly suggests that the stranger is singing the opera’s first chorus. He had just conducted the overture to Iphigénie en Aulide, and in his conversation soon thereafter, he talks about how this overture is misused to introduce the later opera Iphigénie en Tauride. It would thus make sense for him to perform the real beginning of this opera as well, before addressing the problem of the overture. The content of the chorus, moreover, seems to parallel his own situation and he sings it immediately after revealing he is a composer and expressing his misgivings about Berlin and Berliners.

120 The melody is originally from Gluck’s opera La clemenza di Tito (middle section of Sesto’s aria in Act II, Scene 14) and was reused by Gluck, first in his Iphigénie en Aulide and subsequently in Iphigénie en Tauride. 121 A final argument against placing this chorus here is found in the opera’s various versions. While he was still in Paris, Gluck himself had eliminated this chorus (and its preceding recitative) after just a few performances and had replaced it with an instrumental March in C minor. When the German version of the opera was brought to the stage in Vienna in 1781, the chorus was again omitted and a funeral march was played instead. The version for Berlin in 1795 included the original chorus again. Since Sander’s translation was widely used throughout the nineteenth century, the chorus was also most likely performed (Gluck, Vorwort, Sämtliche Werke, I: 11, pp.IX, X). Printed editions did contain the chorus such as, for example, the original score (Bureau de Musique, 1779), the second edition (Des Lauriers, before 1792), and also Rellstab’s piano reduction (Iphigénie en Tauride. Tragédie en quatre acte [!], par Mr. Guillard, arrangée pour le clavecin par Jean Charles Frédéric Rellstab. A Berlin, de l’Imprimerie & dans le Magasin de Musique de Rellstab, [1788-89].) The first piano reduction offering a German translation (by Sander) appeared in 1812 with Schlesinger in Berlin, three years after Hoffmann wrote his tale.) The first chorus ‘Grands Dieux! Soyez-nous secourables’ will raise no doubts, however, since it had always been performed. 110 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

In this opening chorus, Iphigénie is a high priestess of Diana at the temple of Tauris. Tauris is inhabited by the barbaric Scythians and she was brought there by Diana fifteen years before, when her father Agamemnon attempted to sacrifice her. A storm brews, and the Greeks beg the gods for protection and to be released from the barbaric island. When the narrator meets the stranger again later that evening, the odd composer refers to his loneliness and torments after having been damned to wander in this barren space, deprived of any kindred spirits. Like the Greeks in Tauris, he, too, was condemned to live among barbarians. The musical works incorporated into the story are therefore carefully selected and illuminate important points of the tale: reflections on the appropriate way to approach and listen to music and on the state of the arts, especially opera, in Berlin. This is also true of the last musical example from the opera Armide. The opera is being performed at the theater and the stranger is clinging to the windows, lamenting the mutilation of the work. The narrator breaks the ‘spell’ of his torment and, together, they go to the stranger’s dwellings on the upper floor of a modest house. The stranger begins by playing the overture. It has already been pointed out how he plays the majestic Tempo di Marcia that begins the overture in the original score, but enriches the melodic and harmonic texture of the Allegro. The beginning of the development section bespeaks Gluck’s abilities in this regard. A chromatic motif of the flute and first violin forms a counterpoint to the main theme (second violin) and within just six measures, the music moves from G major (via C, D, E) to A minor (Musical Example 4, mm. 60-68).

Musical Example 4: Armide, Act I, Ouverture, Allegro, mm. 60-68. Ritter Gluck 111

The description of the stranger’s performance suggests that he extended these development techniques to the entire overture after playing the majestic introduction.122 As he played, his body also took part in the performance. His face glowed, he frowned with anger, then his eyes swam with tears in the deepest melancholy. Sometimes he sang, or imitated the sound of the drum with his voice. When he reached the final scene of Armide, the narrator, too, was overcome by the music: ‘Alle meine Fibern zitterten – ich war außer mir’. (‘My nerves quivered – I was beside myself’.)123 The stranger’s performance again did not follow the original precisely, ‘aber seine veränderte Musik war die Glucksche Szene gleichsam in höherer Potenz. Alles, was Liebe, Haß, Verzweiflung, Raserei, in den stärksten Zügen ausdrücken kann, faßte er gewaltig in Töne zusammen’. (‘But his alterations of the music seemed to elevate the scene in Gluck’s opera to a higher potency. All the most powerful expressions of hate, love, despair, or rage he drew together in notes’.)124 In this scene Armide is beside herself, just as the narrator is. Her lover, the Christian knight Renaud, has just left her and her magic powers have proven useless. One might expect a revenge aria of some sort, but instead, Gluck composed an extensive scene in which Armide’s desolate state is expressed. She realizes that despite Renaud’s betrayal, she still loves him and is even prepared to die. She then expresses a progressive range of strong emotions, varying from despair, indignation, sorrow, rage, and self-pity to vengeance. The music expresses this psychological process up to its climax. Armide finally orders her demons to destroy her palace, and with it her fatal love for Renaud. In a raging orchestral tutti in D minor, the demons then destroy the magic palace. A brief passage from this scene illustrates Armide’s extreme and changing emotions from rage (see the orchestral part Musical Example 5, m. 86), through despairing self-pity to terrible revenge (E minor). Inspired by the rapid development of the psychological drama in the scene, Gluck has offered his audiences the entire musical palette rather than capturing only one or two strong emotions as he would have shown in a conventional da capo aria.

122 This expansion of the development technique to the whole form is exactly what Hoffmann himself would later admire so much in Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. 123 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.511; Fantasy Pieces, p.13. 124 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.511; Fantasy Pieces, p.13. 112 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Musical Example 5: Armide, Act V, last scene, mm. 86-99.

Armide’s last scene obviously refutes critics such as Forkel who claimed Gluck’s music lacked harmonic and melodic invention and was marked by technical clumsiness. Most importantly, however, all three musical examples in the tale demonstrate Gluck’s main focus on the dramatic action or situation and its unconventional musical translation, as seen, for example, in its omission of a proper overture. In this light, seeking to judge his music according to rules of strict composition misses the point. In actuality, Ritter Gluck exemplifies a different attitude towards criticizing music, reflecting on the nature of musical composition and more appropriate approaches to music criticism. Ritter Gluck 113

Ritter Gluck: Towards a New Aesthetics of Opera

Hoffmann’s tale recounts the debate provoked by Gluck’s reform operas, thereby implying that the debate is far from over. Vocal critics are cited, but their voices are embedded in a form far beyond their imaginations. The narrative does not retreat to a purely biographical account, though, for musical examples play an important and illuminating role throughout the story. Incorporating concrete music into a narrative was not new at the time. One of Hoffmann’s literary idols, Jean Paul, had done this before. In his novel Hesperus (1795), for example, the hero Victor is completely captivated by a symphony by Carl Stamitz. After the overture is characterized as a ‘crackling of fireworks’ (‘Feuerwerkgeprassel’), we read:

[…] es ist der Staubregen, der das Herz für die großen Tropfen der einfachern Töne aufweicht. Alle Empfindungen in der Welt bedürften Exordien; und die Musik bahnet der Musik den Weg – oder die Tränenwege. Stamitz stieg – nach einem dramatischen Plan, den sich nicht jeder Kapellmeister entwirft – allmählich aus den Ohren in das Herz, wie aus Allegros in Adagios; dieser große Komponist geht in immer engern Kreisen um die Brust, in der ein Herz ist, bis er sie endlich erreicht und unter Entzückungen umschlingt.

([…] it is the sprinkling rain which softens the heart for the great drops of the simpler tones. All emotions in the world need exordia; and music paves the way, or the tear-ways, (lachrymal ducts,) for music. Stamitz – after a dramatic plan which not every conductor marks out for himself – gradually descended from the ears into the heart, and from allegros to adagios: this great composer sweeps in ever-narrowing circles around every bosom in which there is a heart, until at last he reaches it and folds it in a rapturous embrace.)125

Jean Paul does mention the composer, but we do not learn which symphony is described here. Neither the ‘dramatic plan’ nor any other musical features such as melody and thematic development, instrumentation, or modulation are addressed. The entire focus is on the emotional effect on the listener. Another stark contrast with Hoffmann is evident immediately: While in Hoffmann’s tale the narrator is entranced by the Allegro, in Jean Paul’s novel Victor is deeply moved by the Adagio. The Allegro here is merely an upbeat section, and only the slow movement genuinely moves the heart. Jean Paul

125 Jean Paul, Werke in zwölf Bänden, ed. by Norbert Miller (Munich: Hanser, 1975), II: Hesperus, p.775; Jean Paul Friedrich Richter, Hesperus or Forty-Five Dog-Post-Days. A Biography, translated by Charles T. Brooks, 2 vols (Boston: Ticknor and Fields, 1865), I, pp.368-369. 114 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera here subscribes to the idea of music primarily as a language of feeling. In Hoffmann’s Ritter Gluck, the Allegro sections of both the overtures to Iphigénie en Aulide and Armide impress the enthusiast most profoundly and prefigure the drama yet to unfold over the course of the opera. Rather than passing by as ‘sprinkling rain’, these passages are part of the dramatic concept of the whole. They are neither an introduction, nor mere convention, but are integral parts of the entire work. This view led to the condemnation of musical judgments that analyzed isolated passages or singled out individual measures or notes for breaking strict harmonic or contrapuntal rules without considering these elements in their larger context. The idea of a composition as a single organic whole is reflected in the stranger’s account of the ‘ways one comes to be a composer’. The tale therefore addresses not only the close relationship between drama and music and its effect on the listener, but also reflects on the music’s genesis. The stranger clearly did not consult any composition textbooks; rather, his way of becoming a composer resembled an epiphany. While many would-be composers embark on the broad highway of composing, the stranger recounts, only a few enter the kingdom of dreams. Even fewer will awaken from the dream and attain the truth:

[…] der höchste Moment ist da: die Berührung mit dem Ewigen, Unaussprechlichen! – Schaut die Sonne an; sie ist der Dreiklang, aus dem die Akkorde, Sternen gleich, herabschießen und Euch mit Feuerfaden umspinnen – Verpuppt im Feuer liegt Ihr da, bis sich Psyche emporschwingt in die Sonne.

(The highest moment is at hand, the moment of contact with the Eternal, the Inexpressible! Look at the Sun; it is the Triad, from which the Harmonies shoot forth like stars and spin webs around you with threads of fire. And there you lie in a chrysalis of fire until Psyche soars aloft into the Sun.)126

In this mythical vision, the triad forms the center from which all other harmonies spring, and to which they will eventually return. The vision thus conveys the principle of tonality. The stranger continues by telling how all was dark around him and how he was tortured and terrified by the grinning demons darting out at him, until he was saved by rays of light, which were also tones: ‘Ich erwachte von meinen Schmerzen und sah ein großes, helles Auge, das blickte in eine Orgel, und wie es blickte, gingen Töne hervor, und schimmerten und umschlangen sich in herrlichen Akkorden, wie ich sie nie gedacht hatte’. (‘I awoke from my misery and saw a great gleaming eye that

126 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.505; slightly changed after Fantasy Pieces, p.9. Ritter Gluck 115 was looking into an organ; and as it shone, notes glittered from it and entwined themselves in glorious harmonies I had never imagined before’.)127 Remarkable in this vision is the image of an organ, which alludes to the church and the divine, but is also a complex instrument, associated with full harmonies and polyphony. The sounds produced strike the stranger as being totally new, evoking a kind of divine revelation. The stranger does not just hear harmonies, however: ‘Melodieen strömten auf und nieder, und ich schwamm in diesem Strom und wollte untergehen: da blickte das Auge mich an und hielt mich empor über den brausenden Wellen […]’. (‘Melodies flowed up and down, and I swam in the swirling stream and wanted to drown. The eye looked on me and bore me up on the surging waves’.)128 Several important insights emerge from the stranger’s account. First, music is a complex art, confronting the composer with many harmonic and melodic possibilities through which he has to find his way. Second, the myth with its metaphors of light asserts the claim that music represents a higher truth and knowledge, elevating music from a mere sensory level to an art form with philosophical and religious status. Finally, the stranger’s experience shows that the composer must surrender his ego and become a medium of higher powers. Only after fully relinquishing himself and encountering divine harmony can the composer embark on serious composition. The vague melodic and harmonic allusions are now becoming more concrete: ‘Nacht wurde es wieder, da traten zwei Kolossen in glänzenden Harnischen auf mich zu: Grundton und Quinte! sie rissen mich empor […]’. (‘It was night again, and two gigantic figures in shining armor came toward me: Tonic and Dominant. They jerked me upright […]’.)129 Two harmonic pillars now direct the melodies that were streaming back and forth. The composer, however, longs for more and the eye says, smiling: ‘Ich weiß, was deine Brust mit Sehnsucht erfüllt; der sanfte, weiche Jüngling, Terz, wird unter die Kolossen treten; du wirst seine süße Stimme hören, mich wieder sehen, und meine Melodieen werden dein sein’. (‘I know the longing that fills your breast. The delicate youth, Third, will walk among the giants. You will hear his sweet voice and see me again, and my melodies will be yours’.)130 The third (‘Terz’) completes the triad, the basis of tonal music,

127 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.506; slightly changed after Fantasy Pieces, p.9. 128 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.506; Fantasy Pieces, p.9. 129 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.506; Fantasy Pieces, p.9. (Hayse mistakenly translates this as ‘Dominant and Fifth’) 130 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.506; Fantasy Pieces, p.9. Justus Mahr interprets the prominence of the triad as a prophesy of Romantic music, with its emphasis on mediant chords and key relationships. As a literary author, Hoffmann thus evoked a Romantic sound-ideal that he was not able to realize in his own music. (Mahr, ‘Die

116 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera and opens up an endless possibility of harmonic progressions. The triad had already been associated with the divine and the holy trinity by the main character Karl in Rochlitz’s contribution Der Besuch im Irrenhause. Karl had interpreted the third as being the son, who could appear twofold (major and minor).131 The stranger in Hoffmann’s tale characterizes the third as ‘gentle’, and ‘soft’ youth, which seems to allude to the minor third, as ‘soft’ (‘weich’) was generally used for minor triads and keys.132 As minor keys were often used in harmonically-unstable development sections, it would match the stranger’s own musical production described in the tale. The characterization of the third as ‘youth’ might also point to the promise of a fruitful future ahead. The fact that the rich possibilities of harmonic and melodic development are implied is also underlined when the stranger remarks, while recreating Armide’s overture on the piano: ‘All dieses, mein Herr, habe ich geschrieben, als ich aus dem Reich der Träume kam’. (‘All this, Sir, I wrote when I returned from the realm of dreams’.)133 In his performance, the motivic and harmonic manipulation and development gain in importance and the last scene also displays continuous harmonic and thematic change. These techniques are less rooted in convention, but recreate the dramatic action with musical means. The creation myth thus affirms that only composers who wholly deny their own ambitions and personality and place their deep insights of compositional means at the service of the drama will create works of lasting value. Composition, furthermore, is not just a craft but entails a divine revelation in which the work as a whole is conceived. Just as the chosen music exemplifies, the myth is another aspect of the tale responding to critics who believe that everything can be explained and judged by analytical dissection and adherence to the rules of the craft. The composer has an inner vision that he realizes with the means at his disposal, which will vary depending on his cultural or historical background. This is also clearly illustrated by the stranger’s ability to recreate Gluck’s masterpiece using the blank music paper in front of him. The enthusiast (and with him, the reader) is gradually educated by the mysterious musician in a new way of listening to and appreciating music.

Musik E. T. A. Hoffmanns’, p.342). It is, however, problematic to equate the stranger’s experiences and ideas fully with Hoffmann’s own and to speculate about how Hoffmann would have liked to compose. 131 AMZ 6: 42 (18 July 1804), cols 704-705. 132 See, for example, Heinrich Christoph Koch’s Musikalisches Lexikon. Reprografischer Nachdruck der Ausgabe Frankfurt 1802 (Hildesheim: Olms, 1964), col.1738, which Hoffmann knew well. 133 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.511; Fantasy Pieces, p.13. Ritter Gluck 117

It is highly significant that the tale refers to opera and not just to instrumental music. The fact that the story evokes a religious realm elevates the status of opera, as does the choice of a literary form to address the topic. Equally remarkable is the concept of a musical composition as an integral whole now being applied to opera. This view refutes contemporary operatic practice, as we have seen. It was customary to adapt an opera to the possibilities and requirements of the theater where it would be produced. Additions, omissions, and alterations were the order of the day. Gluck himself had completely reworked his Iphigénie en Tauride for the Viennese stage, and other theaters provided their own translations and arrangements, which were often determined by financial means and the ability of available singers. The idea that opera was an integral whole was quite at variance with contemporary performance practices. Although Hoffmann’s tale condemns such practices and unreservedly champions Gluck (who was, of course, deceased by Hoffmann’s day), it does not simply idealize the past. The rejuvenated, ‘modern’ versions that the stranger presents demonstrate the ability of an older tradition to thrive in the present. With its devotion to Gluck, the tale might seem to support the efforts to promote German operatic composers that were particularly important in Berlin at the time. Although some scholars contend that Hoffmann’s patriotic spirit can be detected in Ritter Gluck, Gluck’s nationality is never explicitly mentioned in the tale.134 Nor are his works presented as specifically German achievements. Rather, Hoffmann strongly condemns performers, critics, and audiences in the Prussian capital for their complete lack of understanding of high art. Had Rochlitz not used his editorial pen, the author’s attacks would have been even sharper. In Hoffmann’s view, a sense of greater urgency was educating the public to an appreciation and better understanding of musical masterworks, a goal that could be achieved only by high-quality performances that were respectful of the operatic compositions’ integrity. Hoffmann reiterates this view in his Don Juan,

134 Stephen Rumph emphasizes the politicized mood of Napoleonic occupation at the beginning of the tale and, in connection with a fragment from Kreisleriana I, 5 (‘Extremely Random Thoughts’), concludes that Hoffmann ‘fused aesthetics and politics in the figure of Gluck, who championed solid Germanic values in the decadent French capital’. (Stephen Rumph, Beethoven after Napoleon. Political Romanticism in the Late Works (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2004), pp.12- 13.) Such claims call for further elaboration, since neither of the texts mentions or refers to a decadent French capital nor are any ‘Germanic’ values at stake. The Kreisleriana fragment, which seems to include an anti-French victory message (see Charlton, p.109 fn.176) dates from 1813, a time when some of Hoffmann’s writings do betray an anti-French sentiment (see Chapter Three). 118 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera published in the AMZ in March 1813. The tale utilizes a similar structure in presenting a new and special performance of Mozart’s famous opera Don Giovanni, upon which an enthusiast comments during the performance, thereby bringing the original score and an interpretation of its higher meaning to readers’ attention.

Chapter Two Don Juan: Reflections on (Performing) Mozart’s Don Giovanni

Like Ritter Gluck, the tale Don Juan is one of twelve contributions that Hoffmann furnished to the AMZ on his own initiative. As the title suggests, one of Mozart’s most famous operas, rather than a composer as in Ritter Gluck, is central to the tale. To establish Don Juan’s relationship to Don Giovanni, it is important first to compare Hoffmann’s text to Lorenzo da Ponte’s libretto, and, since opera is a theatrical art form, to compare it with the performance practice and critical reception of Don Giovanni when the tale was first published. As with Ritter Gluck, Hoffmann draws from specific passages of Mozart’s score that are essential for the tale’s interpretation.

E. T. A. Hoffmann’s Don Juan and Lorenzo Da Ponte’s Don Giovanni

Hoffmann’s Don Juan opens with the arrival of a ‘traveling enthusiast’ at a hotel to spend the night. He soon discovers that there is a theater adjacent to his hotel room and that a performance of Mozart’s Don Giovanni (known as Don Juan in Germany) is about to begin. He immediately decides to attend the performance, and from his box he describes what is happening on stage. Disturbed by a noise behind him, he turns around and sees Donna Anna, who had been on stage just a moment earlier. They start a conversation in which she tells him about her role and the deeper meaning of Mozart’s opera. When the bell ending the intermission sounds, she leaves the box. During the second half of the tale, the enthusiast returns to the box and takes up the role of music critic. He sits at a small table with two candles, his writing utensils, and a glass of punch, and records his thoughts about the opera. According to the enthusiast, Don Giovanni’s rush from one woman to another is not only an act of sensual gratification but also a wanton affront to God and nature. Since his constant striving to attain higher insights is in vain, he feels a diabolical desire to destroy the happy lives of others. Yet the seduction of Donna Anna leads to Don Giovanni’s ruin. Her passion now turned to hatred, she seeks revenge against her seducer and the murderer of her father. Only Don Giovanni’s death can bring solace to her tortured soul. The differences between da Ponte’s libretto and Hoffmann’s short story are obvious enough: while the libretto defines Don Giovanni as a dramma 120 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera giocoso, little of this gaiety can be found in the tale’s account of the opera. When Hoffmann’s narrator describes the performance that he witnesses onstage, he skips the parts that are typical of comic opera, such as the burlesque beatings, role reversals, and serenade in the second act. Moreover, he grants Donna Elvira only scant attention; he clearly views Donna Anna as Don Giovanni’s main opponent. Da Ponte’s libretto neither mentions nor even suggests the actual seduction of Donna Anna by Don Giovanni; its only representation is her confession to her fiancé of his attempts to do so. The most unique feature of Hoffmann’s tale is also not found in the libretto: namely, the portrayal of Don Giovanni as a quasi-Faustian hero, who strives tirelessly towards a higher goal. The libretto simply calls him a ‘young and extremely licentious nobleman’. Ever since the publication of Hoffmann’s text, the differences between the tale and the libretto have inspired many critics, scholars, singers, conductors, and stage directors to formulate new interpretations of both the tale and the opera.1 In earlier scholarship, the interpretation of Mozart’s opera as described in the tale was usually believed to reflect Hoffmann’s own personal views.2 More recent contributions, however, distinguish Hoffmann from the textual narrator.3 While most critics agree that the tale, in its selective account of the events and other deviations from the libretto, offers a ‘misinterpretation’ of Mozart’s opera, recent analyses are careful to speak not of ‘Hoffmann’s misinterpretation’, but rather of a ‘misinterpretation’ consciously put into the mouth of the narrator. Hartmut Kaiser argued in 1975 that what mattered was not so much whether Hoffmann gave a faulty, inadequate, or ingenious interpretation of Mozart’s masterpiece, but rather how he used the work and what artistic goals he had

1 See, among others, Christof Bitter, Wandlungen in den Inszenierungsformen des ‘Don Giovanni’ von 1787 bis 1928. Zur Problematik des musikalischen Theaters in Deutschland (Regensburg: Bosse, 1961), pp.99-102; Hans Joachim Kreutzer, ‘Der Mozart der Dichter. Über Wechselwirkungen von Literatur und Musik im 19. Jahrhundert’, Mozart-Jahrbuch (1980/1983), 208-227 (pp.223-224); Karin Werner-Jensen, Studien zur ‘Don Giovanni’-Rezeption im 19. Jahrhundert (1800-1850) (Tutzing: Schneider, 1980), pp.70-88 and the commentary in Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/1, pp.676-679. 2 Bitter, Wandlungen in den Inszenierungsformen, pp.97-102; Kreutzer, ‘Der Mozart der Dichter’, pp.223-224; Kreutzer, ‘Proteus Mozart. Die Opern Mozarts in der Auffassung des 19. Jahrhunderts’, Deutsche Vierteljahrsschrift für Literaturwissenschaft und Geistesgeschichte, 60: 1 (1986), 1-23; Werner-Jensen, Studien zur ‘Don Giovanni’-Rezeption, pp.214-218. 3 Hartmut Steinecke, Die Kunst der Fantasie. E. T. A. Hoffmanns Leben und Werk (Frankfurt am Main: Insel, 2004), pp.109-114. Don Juan 121 in mind.4 Others highlighted Don Giovanni’s changing character over the course of the centuries, pointing out that in Hoffmann’s tale the aristocratic libertine of the original fable has now become an autonomous individual, striving for self-realization.5 The narrator’s identification with Don Giovanni, in which appreciation of art becomes a narcissistic experience, has also been frequently discussed.6 By emphasizing the literary and artistic quality of Hoffmann’s text, modern scholars have tended to overlook what the title suggests to be the central concern of the tale: Mozart’s opera. The opera is no longer seen as the main topic of the text but rather as a starting point for reflections about art in general or about the text itself. The primarily ahistorical view of music reflected in most scholarship on the tale is problematic, and raises the question of whether the modern view of Don Giovanni is universally valid and therefore timeless. Moreover, the problem of how nineteenth-century audiences and critics perceived this opera is noticeably absent from these discussions. In order to determine the differences between Hoffmann’s tale and the opera and to speculate about Hoffmann’s possible ‘intentions’, it is crucial to investigate how the tale relates to interpretations of Don Giovanni proposed during the early nineteenth century. The fact that Hoffmann’s Don Juan was first published in the most prominent music journal of its time indicates that the musical aspects are relevant for its interpretation and were certainly recognized by the

4 Hartmut Kaiser, ‘Mozarts Don Giovanni und E. T. A. Hoffmanns Don Juan. Ein Beitrag zum Verständnis des “Fantasiestücks”’, Mitteilungen der E. T. A. Hoffmann- Gesellschaft, 21 (1975), 6-26 (p.7). More recently, Klaus-Dieter Dobat and Albert Meier echo this view and are fully convinced that Hoffmann very intentionally created a misinterpretation of Mozart’s Don Giovanni. Dobat, Musik als romantische Illusion, pp.138, 141; Albert Meier, ‘Fremdenloge und Wirtstafel. Zur poetischen Funktion des Realitätsschocks in E. T. A. Hoffmanns Fantasiestück “Don Juan”’, Zeitschrift für deutsche Philologie, 111: 4 (1992), 516-531 (p.516). 5 Kreutzer, ‘Der Mozart der Dichter’, pp.222-223; Rolf Spinnler, ‘Don Juans romantische Erlösung’, Clemens Brentano oder Die Schwierigkeit, naiv zu sein. Das Märchen von Fanferlieschen Schönefüßchen (Frankfurt am Main: Hain, 1990), pp.73-96 (p.87). 6 Spinnler, ‘Don Juans romantische Erlösung’, p.88; Liebrand, Aporie des Kunstmythos, pp.45-62. This process of identification between the narrator and Don Giovanni had been proposed earlier by David Wellbery, who interpreted Hoffmann’s tale as a dramatization of Romantic hermeneutics. The narrator’s encounter with Donna Anna in the opera box is seen as ‘a mise en scène of the problem of artistic understanding’. David E. Wellbery, ‘E. T. A. Hoffmann and Romantic Hermeneutics: An Interpretation of Hoffmann’s “Don Juan”’, Studies in Romanticism, 19 (Winter 1980), 455-473 (p.462). 122 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera musically-sophisticated element of the journal’s readership.7 In its formal outline, the tale seems to re-enact the art of music criticism: First, the narrator visits the theater and witnesses a production of Mozart’s Don Giovanni. He then reflects upon what he has just seen and heard and finally takes pen in hand and writes down his interpretation. On a basic level, the text therefore functions as a performative reflection on the work of a music critic. Hoffmann had sent his Don Juan to the publisher Breitkopf & Härtel together with his review of Ludwig van Beethoven’s Piano Trios Op. 70. In an accompanying letter (2 February 1813), he wrote to the editor:

Noch füge ich einen kleinen Aufsatz: Don Juan pp bey, von dem ich in der That nicht weiß, ob E[ine] H[och] V[erehrte] Red[aktion] ihn der Aufnahme in die Zeitung würdig finden wird oder nicht? – Mir scheint, als wenn über die Darstellung des Don Juan manches Neue gesagt worden und als wenn der ‘reisende Enthusiast’ die Ueberspannung und die darinn herrschende Geisterseherey entschuldigen könne, weshalb ich denn wohl die Aufnahme wünschte […].

(I am also enclosing a little essay: Don Juan, which I am not sure that the most honored editors would find worthy of publication in the journal or not. – In my view, many new aspects are mentioned concerning the opera’s performance. I also think that the ‘traveling enthusiast’ might excuse the exaltation and the apparitions therein, because of which I would wish for its publication […].)8

What could Hoffmann have meant by stating that his tale Don Juan offered new views on the opera’s performance? His remark also raises the question of how Don Giovanni was performed in the years leading up to Hoffmann’s story.

Contemporary Performance Practices

The première of Don Giovanni took place under the direction of Mozart himself on 29 October 1787 in Prague, and the composer also led the first performance in Vienna on 7 May 1788. One year later, the opera appeared in various German theaters, but only in German translation. Mozart’s Italian

7 ‘Don Juan. Eine fabelhafte Begebenheit, die sich mit einem reisenden Enthusiasten zugetragen’ (‘A Fabulous Incident which Befell a Traveling Enthusiast’), AMZ 15: 13 (31 March 1813), cols 213-225. The AMZ-version is reprinted in Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, pp.695-709. 8 Briefwechsel, I, p.365. Don Juan 123 opera was now staged as a Singspiel, omitting the Italian recitative and performing spoken (German) dialogues instead. This process turned the arias into isolated musical numbers, an effect that was heightened as the dialogues were expanded and entirely new scenes were added. For example, at performances in Mainz, Frankfurt (in German translation by Heinrich Gottlieb Schmieder), and Mannheim (translated by Christian Gottlob Neefe), scenes with a bailiff and with a jeweler (the latter borrowed from Molière’s Dom Juan) were inserted into the opera. A performance in Berlin added a third scene that introduced a hermit. In this scene, Don Giovanni kills the hermit, dons his clothes, lures Don Ottavio into a cave, and murders him as well. An anonymous music critic for the AMZ mentions a performance in Berlin on 25 April 1803 that included this new scene. He highlights its importance, saying:

Der Mörder kehrt zurück, scherzt über den armen Liebhaber, der ihm, so stumm und doch so beredt, das Wort gegeben habe, auf immer zu schweigen, und ruft triumphirend aus, es könne ihm nun Niemand auf Erden mehr schaden. So muss sich denn die Geisterwelt ins Spiel mischen, und, in der That, man darf wenigstens ein Analogon von tragischer Nothwendigkeit darinn anerkennen, die, ohne diese Scene, nur sehr schwankend angedeutet wird. Auch ist es gut, die Verbrechen des Helden zu steigern, damit es der Mühe werth sey, ihn von den Teufeln holen zu sehen.

(The murderer returns, joking about the poor lover who had given him his promise, mutely and yet so eloquently, to keep silent forever. In triumph he exclaimed that now no one in the world could do him any harm. Thus, the spirit world must interfere, and indeed one can interpret this as equivalent to a tragic necessity, which would be hinted at very unconvincingly without this scene. It is also good to magnify the crimes of the hero, so that it is worthwhile to see him being dragged away by the devils.)9

According to this critic, the reasons for Don Giovanni’s severe punishment—his burning in Hell—were not properly explained in Mozart’s opera. This new scene, which develops Don Giovanni’s evil side, makes the punishment more plausible. Nevertheless, the addition of this scene, in which Don Giovanni murders Don Ottavio, renders the final sextet of the opera less convincing, given that Don Ottavio returns to sing in it along with Donna Anna, Donna Elvira, Leporello, Zerlina, and Masetto. Moreover, this happy ending after the tragic fall of the hero was viewed as being incongruous and tasteless. Accordingly, it became common practice to omit the final sextet altogether and to end the opera with Don Giovanni’s

9 AMZ 5: 34 (18 May 1803), cols 575-576 (emphasis in original). 124 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera descent into Hell. Instead of the sextet, music by other composers was performed. For example, Georg Joseph Vogler’s ‘Chorus of Furies’ was played at the performance in Berlin on 22 March 1811. Thus Mozart’s opera was transformed into a drama in style of grand opera, with impressive historical scenery and costumes, a large orchestra and quicker tempos, and it culminated in the tragic fall of the hero. In addition to the influences of German Singspiel and grand opera, a third performance tradition, that of folk theater, also shaped the performances. Again, a contribution by an anonymous AMZ critic illustrates the effect of including the folk-theater tradition. From Vienna an anonymous critic reports, on 11 May 1803: ‘Das Stück gewinnt schon dadurch unendlich, weil es in vier Akte abgetheilt ist, und von halb sieben Uhr bis halb eilf Uhr fast in einem Athem fortspielet. Man denke was sich in diesem Zeitraum nicht für spashaftes Zeug hervorbringen lässt’. (‘The piece improves immensely by being divided into four acts, lasting almost without interruption from half-past six to half-past ten. Just imagine what fun stuff can be produced during this time’.)10 The critic then goes on to tell how Don Giovanni was taken prisoner, given nothing to eat but herring, and tortured and stretched until his body was lengthened by twenty inches. Finally, the critic quotes a ‘comic’ dialogue that underlines Leporello’s stupidity.11 This account clearly shows how Mozart’s opera had become a complete farce. Regardless of which performance tradition was chosen, the expansion of the dialogues and inclusion of new scenes and jokes prolonged the piece and destroyed its musical proportions. Especially in such interpretations as Singspiel or farce, the opera began to resemble spoken theater, interrupted occasionally by musical interludes. This development is reflected in the fact that it was common practice to employ actors rather than singers. On a performance in Breslau in 1804, an AMZ critic offers this critique: ‘Herr Schüler, der es selbst gestehet, und dessen Sprache es auch schon verräth, dass er kein Organ zum singen habe, sang den Leporello – den tiefsten Bass von vier Bassstimmen! […] Beym Sextett war seine Stimme nicht mehr hörbar’. (‘Mr. Schüler, who admits it himself and whose voice betrays that he is not fit for singing, sang Leporello – the deepest of four bass voices! […] His voice was inaudible in the sextet’.)12 A similar case is reported from Berlin: ‘Schade, dass Hr. Beschort, der den Don Juan mit vieler Kraft und Feinheit spielt, ihn nicht singen kann, und fast nur declamatorisch die schwere Partie vorträgt. Daher blieb auch die schöne Arie: Treibt der

10 AMZ 5: 35 (25 May 1803), col.587. 11 AMZ 5: 35, col.588. 12 AMZ 6: 30 (25 April 1804), col.509. Don Juan 125

Champagner etc. ganz weg’. (‘Mr. Beschort plays the role of Don Giovanni with much power and refinement – a pity that he can’t sing it and performs most of this difficult part in a declamatory way. For this reason the beautiful aria ‘Fin ch’ han dal vino’ (‘Till they are tipsy’) was omitted’.)13 Another common trait of most Don Giovanni translations was the development of a moralizing tone. Don Giovanni’s libertine lifestyle was strongly condemned, and the German texts preached a virtuous life instead. The newly-added scenes underlined the criminal character of Don Giovanni, making his terrible fate at the end more convincing. In addition to visiting the theater, the early-nineteenth-century audience could acquaint itself with an opera at home at the piano. The many piano reductions and various arrangements for wind and chamber ensembles show the opera’s enormous popularity at the turn of the century. The first piano reduction was done by Carl Zulehner and contained the Italian text, as well as a German translation by Heinrich Gottlieb Schmieder. It was published by B. Schott in Mainz in 1791. Three additional piano reductions, this time by Christian Gottlob Neefe, appeared with Simrock in Bonn (1797, with a second edition in 1800) and Böhme in Hamburg (ca. 1800). The German translator Friedrich Ludwig Schröder altered the text significantly: The opera was now divided into four acts rather than two, and in the first act, four numbers (all scenes in which Masetto and Zerlina sing) were omitted and moved to the second act. Two arias were added randomly in the first and third acts. In 1798, the Viennese publishing house T. Mollo and Co. printed another piano reduction, followed by Breitkopf & Härtel in Leipzig in 1803 (with subsequent editions in 1811 and 1818). A. E. Müller created the piano reduction; Friedrich Rochlitz translated the text into German. In 1810 two more piano scores were published by the firms S. A. Steiner in Vienna and Kühnel in Leipzig. Nevertheless, none of the piano reductions mentioned above contained the recitatives. Breitkopf & Härtel published three arias and a duet in the appendix as ‘pieces added later’. Among these was Masetto’s aria ‘Ho capito’, which was not a ‘piece added later’ at all; on the contrary, it had already been performed at the première in Prague under Mozart’s direction. These four pieces can also be found in Steiner’s score, while the Schott edition omits them altogether. These examples remind us that critical editions were not yet common at the time. Alterations or omissions were not even mentioned (except for the Breitkopf & Härtel edition), and no one felt the need to explain the motivation for any such changes.

13 AMZ 13: 50 (11 December 1811), col.845. 126 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

The first and only edition at the time that contained all of the recitatives (although in Italian and without translation) was the full score published by Breitkopf & Härtel in 1801. German dialogues written by Rochlitz were added in the appendix. This version (the Rochlitz translation of the arias and the Rochlitz dialogues) became the most popular one produced on the German stage during the nineteenth century.

E. T. A. Hoffmann and Mozart’s Don Giovanni

Hoffmann was already well acquainted with Mozart’s opera at an early age. His enthusiasm and admiration for this particular composition are evident from his letter to his friend Theodor Gottlieb von Hippel:

Den Don Juan habe ich jezt auch eigenthümlich – er macht mir manche seelige Stunden, ich fange an jezt je mehr und mehr Mozarts wahrhaft großen Geist in der Composition zu durchschauen, Du solst gar nicht glauben, wie viel neue Schönheiten sich dem Ohr des Spielers entwickeln, wenn er auch nicht die geringste Kleinigkeit vorüber schlüpfen läßt, und mit einer Art von tiefem Studium zu jedem einzelnen Takt den gehörigen Ausdruck sucht – Das Anschwellen von sanfter Melodie bis zum Rauschenden, bis zum erschütternden des Donners, die sanften Klagetöne, der Ausbruch der wüthendsten Verzweiflung, das Majestätische, das edle des Helden, die Angst des Verbrechers, das Abwechseln der Leidenschaften in seiner Seele, alles dieses findest Du in dieser einzigen Musik – sie ist allumfassend, und zeigt Dir den Geist des Componisten in allen möglichen Modifikationen.

(I now own Don Giovanni and it provides me with many a blissful hour. I am beginning more and more to fathom Mozart’s truly great genius in his compositions. You can hardly believe how many new delights emerge in the ear of the player, if he doesn’t let the least thing slip past and goes deeply into the search for the right expression in every single bar. The swelling of a gentle melody into a crescendo, into shattering thunder; the soft, plaintive sounds; the eruption of raging desperation; the majestic elements; the nobility of the hero; the fear of the villain and the shifting passions in his soul – all this you find in this unique music. It is all-encompassing and shows you the spirit of the composer in all modifications possible.)14

Hoffmann apparently not only attended performances of the opera but also bought a piano score (a copy of Schott’s 1791 edition, now owned by the Staatsbibliothek Bamberg.) A few years later, in 1807, he attended performances in Berlin. During 1810 and 1811, several performances of Don

14 Letter of 4 March 1795, Briefwechsel, I, p.59; Selected Letters, p.35. Don Juan 127

Giovanni were staged in Bamberg. It is likely that Hoffmann, who was employed as a scene painter and dramatic advisor at the Bamberg theater, took part in these productions. On 16 December 1810 he ordered a new and complete piano score from Breitkopf & Härtel; this clearly indicates that the opera was on his mind during that time. The following remark in his diary illustrates the same point: ‘viel Musik aus dem Don Juan gemacht’ (‘been playing a lot from Don Giovanni’).15 On 27 June 1813 he finally conducted a performance of Don Giovanni at the court theater in Dresden. Three months prior to this event, his tale Don Juan had appeared in the AMZ. He would later share his opinion about the opera twice more: first, in a review of the Berlin production on 20 September 1815, and second, in a publication in which he defended the opera’s new production under the direction of Gaspare Spontini in Berlin on 22 November 1820.16 The question thus arises: Which scores did Hoffmann use while conducting the opera and writing his tale and reviews? The 1791 piano reduction is incomplete; hence, it is no coincidence that Hoffmann ordered the newest, most complete piano score in 1810. Most likely, he then received the piano reduction published in 1803 by Breitkopf & Härtel. As the recitatives are missing from this score as well, he must have been familiar with the 1801 full score, also published by Breitkopf & Härtel, or at least a handwritten copy of it. There are two reasons underlying this assumption: First, only the full score includes the transition from the Commendatore’s death into the recitative for Don Giovanni and Leporello – that is, the transition linking the first and second scenes. Hoffmann calls for this in his 1815 review, in which he states that the first scene must not be interrupted by spoken dialogue until the stage changes after the duet (Scene 3, no. 2). The review stresses the importance of another scene as well: that of Don Giovanni and Leporello beside the statue (Act II, Scene 11).17 Significantly, only the full score contains this scene; the piano scores include only the few measures in which the Commendatore speaks. A further indication that Hoffmann knew the full score can be seen in the quotations of the Italian recitative in his tale Don Juan. The enthusiast relates how Donna Elvira confronts her betrayer, Don Juan, by exclaiming ‘Tu nido d’inganni’ (‘hotbed of deceit’), while Leporello wittily observes that she ‘parla come un libro stampato’ (‘talks like a book’).18 As mentioned earlier,

15 20 January 1811, Tagebücher, p.114. 16 The former was published in Dramaturgisches Wochenblatt (see Chapter Five), and the second in Vossische Zeitung (see Chapter Six). 17 Schriften zur Musik, p.298. 18 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.698. Leporello in fact said ‘pare un libro stampato’. 128 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera the Italian recitatives were omitted in all of the piano scores and could be found only in the full orchestral score. Audiences were also not very likely to hear them in the theater, where the German dialogues were normally performed instead. It is therefore almost certain that Hoffmann was acquainted with the full score or a copy of it. This leaves one problematic aspect to be solved: Given his familiarity with the score, why does he not choose to follow its predominant comic model? The full score and the piano reductions take the generic name dramma giocoso from the libretto, while the pamphlet announcing the performance conducted by Hoffmann on 27 June 1813 reads: ‘Eine ernsthafte Oper in zwei Akten/Opéra sérieuse en deux actes’.19 As Hoffmann’s tale offers a tragic interpretation of the opera as well, his own performance and the tale seem to be more closely related than has been assumed so far. Hoffmann’s own views on Don Giovanni emerge from his 1815 review of a performance in Berlin, in which he clearly condemns the Singspiel performance style (with spoken dialogue instead of recitative):

Ewig wahr ist es, daß an einem recht aus dem Innern hervorgegangenen poetischen Werk sich nicht wohl etwas modeln läßt. Jeder der wunderbaren Klänge im Don Juan verschlingt sich geheimnisvoll zu dem Ganzen, wie Strahlen, die sich in einem Fokus reflektieren. So kommt es dann, daß der Don Juan immer vereinzelt und verstückelt erscheinen wird, wenn er nicht der Original-Partitur getreu d. h. überhaupt rezitativisch gegeben wird.

(It is an eternal truth that a poetic work proceeding from the innermost soul cannot be tampered with. Each of the wonderful sounds in Don Giovanni is mysteriously subsumed into the whole, like rays of light refracted into a single focus. So it is that Don Giovanni will always appear mangled and mutilated if it is not given according to the original score, i.e. with recitatives.)20

According to Hoffmann, recitative fulfills an important dramatic role and cannot be omitted or replaced by spoken language. He selected two scenes to illustrate his point: The opera’s beginning should not be interrupted by spoken dialogue until the stage changes after the duet of Donna Anna and Don Ottavio. In the second act, the statue’s speech will produce a horrific effect only when Don Giovanni in his preceding recitative first sings the note on which the dreadful warnings from the spirit-world then resound.21 Hoffmann also criticizes casting an actor as Leporello rather than a singer; Herr Unzelmann, he observes, completely lacks the physical

19 See the illustration in Tagebücher, p.487. 20 Schriften zur Musik, pp.297-298; Charlton, p.398. 21 Schriften zur Musik, p.298. Don Juan 129 resources to perform a role in which singing is so important.22 He is also annoyed that music by another composer is added at the end: ‘Rücksichts des Schlußballetts bezieht sich Ref. darauf, was er oben über die treue Darstellung eines Meisterwerks gesagt hat […]’. (‘With regard to the concluding ballet the reviewer refers to his remarks above about the faithful interpretation of a masterpiece […]’.)23 In general, he is not very pleased by the practice of omitting or adding scenes or arias, as is evident in his critique of the usual omission of Donna Elvira’s aria (Act I, No. 8):

Die volle metallreiche Stimme der Madame Schulz tritt in der Rolle der Elvira sehr vorteilhaft hervor, und man muß es ihr besonders danken, daß sie die Arie aus dem D dur ¾ Takt sang, die an dem Platze wo sie steht von solch herrlicher dramatischer Wirkung ist, von Sängerinnen gewöhnlichen Schlages aber deshalb ausgenommen wird, weil sie nach dem beliebten Theaterausdruck undankbar sein soll, eigentlich auch wohl, weil sie sich in den Stil und in die rhythmische Rückungen nicht finden können.

(Madame Schulze’s full, steely voice was heard to great advantage in the rôle of Elvira, and she deserves particular gratitude for singing the aria in D major, ¾ time, which is of such splendid dramatic effect in its allotted place but is left out by the common generality of singers because it is said to be ungrateful, to use the favourite theatrical expression, but more likely because they cannot accommodate themselves to its style and syncopated rhythms.)24

In short, Hoffmann criticizes the substitution of the recitative by spoken dialogue, the random omission or addition of other musical numbers, and casting with actors rather than singers. In contrast to the performance practices of his time, he considered opera a unified art form. For Hoffmann, any alteration destroys the work’s dramatic consistency. How does Hoffmann’s call for unity and authenticity in his reviews relate to the performance as described by the narrator in his tale Don Juan? As mentioned above, Hoffmann himself stated in a letter to his publisher that his tale contained many new ideas about the opera’s performance. This remark, especially in light of the criticism offered in his review, raises questions as to which new ideas his tale reveals about the opera.

22 Schriften zur Musik, p.300. 23 Schriften zur Musik, p.301; Charlton, p.401. 24 Schriften zur Musik, p.300; Charlton, p.400. 130 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Restaging Don Giovanni

The tale’s narrator emphasizes the opera’s unity and dramatic consistency even more than Hoffmann does in his review. Performing the opera in the German Singspiel tradition is also condemned in stronger terms. The narrator notes with pleasure that the Italian recitatives are retained: Notte e giorno faticar, the narrator hears Leporello complain, ‘Also italienisch? – Hier am deutschen Orte italienisch? Ah che piacere! ich werde alle Rezitative, alles so hören, wie es der große Meister in seinem Gemüt empfing und dachte!’ (‘Italian? Here, in the midst of Germany, Italian? Oh, che piacere! I would hear all the recitatives, everything just as the master’s genius conceived it!’)25 This comment is important, and the narrator not only cites the opening verses of musical numbers in Italian, but twice also cites Italian recitative. These were normally not performed in the theater, nor could they be found in easily- accessible scores. For most readers, these lines must have sounded new and unfamiliar. The narrator does not limit his criticism to the performance in the Singspiel tradition. Scholars have often wondered why the opera’s comic elements are completely absent from the tale, in which the narrator instead presents a tragic plot that leads to the death of both Donna Anna and Don Giovanni. It is this emphasis on Donna Anna and Don Giovanni and all of the other tragic elements in the opera that clearly sets the narrator’s tale apart from performances resembling folk theater or even farce. The omission of all buffo scenes can thus be interpreted as a programmatic departure from the opera as farce. The contrast between the versions presented at the time and the unusual one presented by the narrator is underscored by the fact that he feels the need to ‘legitimize’ his new interpretation through a dialogue with Donna Anna during the intermission. Though it is quite likely that this conversation took place in the narrator’s imagination, it indicates that it was the voice of Donna Anna, and therefore Mozart’s music, that inspired him to reflect about the opera and her role in particular. The tale, however, includes even more corrective elements. The weight that Hoffmann’s narrator places on the central roles of Donna Anna and Don Giovanni is similarly directed against performance practices of the time. In the early nineteenth century, Donna Elvira was considered the heroine and therefore cast as prima donna.26 Donna Anna’s music, however,

25 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.696; Fantasy Pieces, p.55. 26 Werner-Jensen, Studien zur ‘Don Giovanni’-Rezeption, pp.52ff. According to Ludwig Finscher, this was perfectly consistent with the Metastasio tradition: Don Giovanni Don Juan 131 is at least as passionate, demanding, and complex as Donna Elvira’s part. Nevertheless, Elvira’s role was considered to be of greater importance. In Hoffmann’s tale, these roles are now reversed and therefore the tale appears to call into question the practices whereby the opera was generally cast. Last but not least, the interpretation offered by the tale, in which Don Giovanni seduces and possesses Donna Anna, flouts the moralizing tendencies of the German stage. Language referring to violence and references to physical sensuality were omitted from most German translations. The concluding words of Leporello’s Catalogue aria (No. 4, Act I, Scene 5) for example, which he sings to Donna Elvira, leave no doubt as to Don Giovanni’s sexual appetite: ‘Purchè porti la gonnella, voi sapete quel che fa’ (‘If she wears a skirt, you know what he does’). Rochlitz’s ‘translation’ avoids any such direct allusions by having Leporello sing: ‘Sein Gemüthe, unverwüstlich,/Wird durch alles nicht bekehrt./Drum, o Schöne, lass ihn laufen,/Er ist deines Zorns nicht werth!’ (‘His resilient disposition/nothing can convert./Therefore, pretty lady, let him go,/he is not worthy of your anger’.)27 Schmieder’s translation eliminates all allusions to violence.28 In his version, Donna Anna, for example, informs her fiancé Don Ottavio about the intruder into her room with the following words: ‘er droht und bittet, ich rufe [...] Er bath um Gegenliebe;’ and ‘Er fiel dann vor mir auf die Knie’ (‘He threatened and begged, I called [for help] [...] he begged me to requite his love’ and ‘he fell to his knees before me’.)29 There are no signs left of the physical struggle so clearly conveyed in the Italian original.30 In this context, the narrator’s description of Donna Anna is clearly provocative:

acts as primo uomo, whereas Donna Elvira, as his abbandonata, figures as prima donna (Ludwig Finscher, ‘“Don Giovanni” 1987’, Mozart-Jahrbuch (1987/1988), 19-27 (p.27). According to this scenario, Don Ottavio and Donna Anna would then represent the roles of secondo uomo and seconda donna. 27 Johann Friedrich Rochlitz, Don Juan. Oper in zwei Akten. Nach dem Italienischen des Abb. da Ponte frei bearbeitet von Friedrich Rochlitz (Leipzig: Breitkopf und Härtel, 1801), p.9. 28 The published version (the Frankfurt version), which was also used in the score Hoffmann owned. 29 Mozart, Il dissoluto Punito o Sia il D. Giovanni. Drama giocoso … messa per il Piano Forte del Carlo Zulehner (Mainz: Schott, [1791]), pp.63, 64. 30 In Da Ponte’s version, Donna Anna describes how Don Giovanni seized her, and held her even more firmly in his grasp when she tried to free herself. She screamed but he put a hand on her mouth to silence her, and held her even tighter. Strengthened by fear and horror, she finally managed to wrench herself out of his grip (Act I, Scene 13). 132 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Das Feuer einer übermenschlichen Sinnlichkeit, Glut aus der Hölle durch- strömte ihr Innerstes und machte jeden Widerstand vergeblich. Nur Er, nur Don Juan, konnte den wollüstigen Wahnsinn in ihr entzünden, mit dem sie ihn umfing, der mit der übermächtigen, zerstörenden Wut höllischer Geister im Innern sündigte.

(The heat of a superhuman sensuality, glowing like Hell-fire, coursed through her and made all her resistance futile. Only Don Juan, who sinned on account of the overwhelming destructive rage of the hellish spirits that possessed him, could have ignited in her the voluptuous madness with which she embraced him.)31

Rather than offering a ‘misinterpretation’, Hoffmann’s tale critiques the various performance traditions that influenced the staging of Mozart’s opera in the early nineteenth century. The traveling enthusiast witnesses a performance of Don Giovanni not as it was presented onstage, nor as it could be reconstructed from piano scores. Instead, he envisions a production with features that diverge from popular performance practices. Various new aspects appear, such as the return to the original language of the opera and the original recitatives. Also, the elimination of all added scenes, as well as the inclusion of the last scene (the final sextet), were novel changes. The differences from Da Ponte’s libretto that Hoffmann’s tale exhibits, which have formed the point of departure for the interpretations of conventional as well as more recent scholarship, are not the tale’s most salient traits. On the contrary, its most significant innovation is the attempt to rediscover and restore Mozart’s own, and thus the original, version of the opera. This attempt again displays a new attitude towards the genre: The idea of an operatic work as a unified whole that should not be disrupted was not a common view, as we have seen. Operas were composed with specific theaters and singers in mind and were adapted to new circumstances if necessary. Mozart himself made changes to his opera Don Giovanni for the première in Vienna, as the singers had different requirements and strengths

31 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.707; Fantasy Pieces, p.63. The opera’s erotic aspects would later be given greater emphasis, especially by Sören Kierkegaard (‘Die unmittelbaren erotischen Stadien oder Das Musikalisch-Erotische’, Entweder/Oder, translated by Emanuel Hirsch, Part I (Düsseldorf: Diederichs, 1956), pp.47-145), and have become an important element in Don Giovanni interpretations (e.g. Thrasybulos Georgiades, ‘Aus der Musiksprache des Mozart-Theaters’, Mozart- Jahrbuch 1950 (1951), 76-98; Charles Rosen, The Classical Style. Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven (New York: The Viking Press, 1971), pp.324-325.) Surrender to uncontrollable passion is the focus of Richard Eldridge’s ‘“Hidden Secrets of the Self”: E. T. A. Hoffmann’s Reading of “Don Giovanni”’, in The Don Giovanni Moment. Essays on the Legacy of an Opera, ed. by Lydia Goehr and Daniel Herwitz (New York: Columbia University Press, 2006), pp.33-46. Don Juan 133 than those in Prague. The score functioned merely as a guide for the production of an opera. Hoffmann, however, is now applying such aesthetic qualities as ‘unity’, ‘cohesiveness’, and ‘musical logic’ to operatic works. Returning to the original version of Don Giovanni and applying new aesthetic qualities to the opera constituted only a single step towards solving the problems that the opera posed for its interpreters. Another problematic element seemed to be the final scene, in which, after the spectacular downfall of the hero, all of the remaining characters gather on stage. Even more problematic was the severity of Don Giovanni’s punishment, which was seen as being insufficiently explained by the plot of the opera. For this reason, most productions added new scenes in order to highlight Don Giovanni’s criminal character and to make his tragic end more convincing. The traveling enthusiast in Hoffmann’s tale specifically refers to this notion of implausibility regarding Don Giovanni’s burning in Hell, thus echoing criticisms often heard in the press:

[…] ehrlich gestanden, ist ein solcher Mensch es wohl nicht wert, daß die unterirdischen Mächte ihn als ein ganz besonderes Cabinetsstück der Hölle auszeichnen; daß der steinerne Mann, von dem verklärten Geiste beseelt, sich bemüht vom Pferde zu steigen, und vor dem letzten Stündlein zur Buße zu ermahnen; daß endlich der Teufel seine besten Gesellen ausschickt, um den Transport in sein Reich auf die gräßlichste Weise zu veranstalten.

(To tell the truth, such a man is hardly worth all that follows: Don Juan’s selection by supernatural powers for special treatment by Hell; the animated statue’s taking the trouble to dismount from his stone horse just to exhort the sinner to repent at the last moment; and the Devil himself finally dispatching his elite troops solely in order to arrange a most horrendous manner of transportation to his realm.)32

The interpretation that the enthusiast offers within the tale comes to terms with this problem. In contrast to his contemporaries, however, the narrator’s account does not depict Don Giovanni as a villain by adding new scenes, but seeks an explanation by returning to the original version of the opera. By characterizing Don Giovanni as a Faustian hero constantly disillusioned in his quest for higher goals, his ‘special treatment by Hell’ seems more plausible. The development of Don Giovanni as a dramatic figure, characterized in the secondary literature as evolving from an aristocratic libertine into an autonomous individual, an outsider constantly striving for transcendence, can now be described more precisely. The noble libertine first turns into a

32 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.704; Fantasy Pieces, p.61. 134 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera criminal vagabond before he becomes a Faustian hero. This last stage is the alternative offered by Hoffmann’s tale in response to the criminal Don Giovanni type most commonly depicted on the German stage. At the same time, this alternative is not a conscious deviation from the libretto, as most scholars appear to believe. Rather, it is an attempt to bring about an immanent solution to the work’s problematic ending. Guided by his practical theatrical experiences and by a careful study of the music, Hoffmann tried to return to Mozart’s original masterpiece. For Hoffmann, the opera constituted a unified whole that could be understood only on its own terms. The result was a new performance: a restaging of Mozart’s Don Giovanni within Hoffmann’s own Don Juan.

Approaches to Mozart

The fact that Hoffmann’s tale sets out to address problems that Mozart’s music posed for its listeners is confirmed by judgments about his operas found in the music press. As was the case in Ritter Gluck, the tale of Don Juan not only criticizes performance practice but also responds to the way Mozart’s music was approached in reviews and other forms of music criticism. Although this is not the place to offer an exhaustive account of Mozart reception in the early nineteenth century, some examples from the AMZ illustrate several major trends. While Mozart’s music was praised as ‘ingenious’, ‘inimitable’, and ‘unsurpassed’,33 there was also repeated criticism concerning his neglect of the text, overly-rich instrumentation, and the complexity of his compositional practice. A good example of such criticism is the review of Mozart’s Oeuvres complettes, a project started by Breitkopf & Härtel in 1798. The review appeared on 8 October 1800 and stated that only Mozart’s genius could excuse his mistakes. As mistakes, the reviewer (most likely Rochlitz himself) mentioned Mozart’s neglect of the words and inaccurate declamation, vocal lines obscured by thick instrumentation, and the composer’s learned compositional style. He also held Mozart responsible for leading astray modern opera composers who were attempting to imitate his example.34 From Italy, a correspondent reported that Mozart’s piano music was becoming more and more popular while his vocal music could find no

33 See for example ‘Gedanken über die Oper’, AMZ 1: 3 (17 October 1798), col.38; AMZ 1: 40 (3 July 1799), col.628. 34 AMZ 3: 2 (8 October 1800), cols 30, 33, 34. Don Juan 135 admirers; the melodies were not fluent enough, the accompaniment was too rich, drowning out the singers, and the music was moreover too intellectual. His music was also too difficult to play and there was not one orchestra in the entire country, for example, that could perform Mozart’s Don Giovanni properly.35 The criticism of the overly-rich accompaniment also underlies the famous anecdote attributed to Emperor Joseph II, who allegedly said: ‘Gewaltig viel Noten, lieber Mozart’ (‘Too many notes, dear Mozart’) upon hearing the opera he had just commissioned, Die Entführung aus dem Serail (The Abduction from the Seraglio, 1782).36 In 1801, Rochlitz wondered whether it was such a bad thing if the human voice were used as an instrument, especially if the dramatic situation would be enhanced by doing so.37 These opposing positions were articulated in Johann Baptist Schaul’s Briefe über den Geschmack in der Musik (Letters on Musical Taste), which appeared in 1809.38 Originally composed as Italian dialogues (Conversazioni istruttive, 1806), Schaul translated the text into German, adopting an epistolary format. The third and fourth letters are dedicated to Italian opera, featuring a dialogue between Mr. A and Mr. B. In his own words, Mr. A has no knowledge about musical composition and its rules; hence he could only make judgments of taste. He criticizes Mozart’s operatic style and wants to uncover its deficiencies. Mozart’s vocal music is often unnatural compared to the exemplary Italian vocal style; his harmonies are arbitrary and harsh; the ensembles and finales in his operas are overcrowded, and his works often defy good sense.39 Such criticism of the vocal line, harmony, and overabundant instrumentation was not new, as we have seen. Schaul’s Mr. A then goes on to take issue with the arias, and in particular their accompaniment, which seems to speak a very different language from that of the vocal line.40 The accompaniment should be simple and natural in order to be expressive and effective. He wonders where to find a singer who could still be audible above all the noise of the millions of notes in all of the

35 AMZ 3: 29 (15 April 1801), cols 499-500. The complaint about the instrumental parts being as important as the singers was still being aired in a report from Rome a decade later. AMZ 13: 31 (31 July 1811), col.525. 36 According to the anecdote, Mozart replied ‘Just as many, Your Majesty, as there should be’. (‘Gerade so viel, Eure Majestät, als nöthig ist’.) Rochlitz included it in his ‘Anekdoten aus Mozarts Leben’, AMZ 1: 12 (19 December 1798), cols 181-182. 37 AMZ 3: 41 (8 July 1801), cols 677-686. 38 Briefe über den Geschmack in der Musik von Johann Baptist Schaul, königl. Württemb. Hofmusikus (Carlsruhe: Macklots Hofbuchhandlung, 1809). Schaul (1759-1822) was both a court musician in Stuttgart and a professor of Italian who translated Torquato Tasso’s Gerusalemme liberata into German (2 vols, 1790). 39 Schaul, p.50. 40 Schaul, pp.51-52. 136 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera different parts, which moreover destroy the poetry as well.41 In short, ‘too many notes’, as the Emperor had already remarked. Mr. A asserts that the instruments should only support the singing and that music should come from the heart.42 This aesthetic of feeling is countered by Mr. B, who defends Mozart’s harmonic and textural complexity, the variety and novelty of his chords, and his imitations and other artistic aspects that one can only understand after multiple hearings. For the soul has not simply a sensory but also an intellectual capacity, so that the human being as a whole will be addressed.43 Schaul’s letters elicited a devastating review in the AMZ, signed M[elos], the acronym of Carl Maria von Weber.44 According to Weber, Schaul had little interest in the content or style of his writing, yet displayed great arrogance regarding great artists and their works. He continued: ‘Der dritte und vierte Brief krönen das Werk. Da geht es über Mozart her! Frevel wäre es, an seinen Manen verübt, wenn man ihn gegen Herrn Schaul verteidigen wollte!’ (‘Letters 3 and 4 are the cream of the book. How Mozart catches it! It would be an insult to his shade to defend him against Herr Schaul’.)45 Regarding Schaul’s criticism of the music of the Three Boys in the second act finale of Die Zauberflöte, or many of Mozart’s arias and overtures, the reviewer begins to wonder whether this is not all a joke or an attempt at satire. Given Schaul’s motto that the best criticism consists in showing how something could have been done better, he announces to the entire music- loving community in Germany, the happy prospect of Herr Schaul soon treating them to a better Don Giovanni, a better Zauberflöte, and a better Titus.46 Nor does Weber spare Schaul in his concluding statement; after assuring the reader that he would be more than pleased to also add some words of praise, he notes that the author had already generously done so in his own Letters, so readers could conveniently turn to the book itself for such praise. Weber’s sharp, self-confident tone signals that times are changing, and the harsh criticism of Mozart’s complexity and use of stark contrasts is decreasing, with such barbs now being directed at Beethoven. Still, notable critics kept their reservations, especially regarding Mozart’s use of accompanying instruments. Hans Georg Nägeli, for example, attacked

41 Schaul, pp.55-57. 42 Schaul, pp.57, 62. 43 Schaul, pp.67-68. 44 ‘Briefe über den Geschmack in der Musik, von Joh. Bapt. Schaul’, AMZ 11: 50 (13 September 1809), cols 793-798. 45 Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.163; Weber, Writings on Music, p.31. 46 Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.165. Don Juan 137 instrumental parts in vocal compositions in which the voice sings along with one or more instruments as if it were itself an instrument, or in which the singing voices are overwhelmed by the accompanying instruments, the better to enthrall astounded listeners with pomp and artistry.47 Apart from being criticized for their complexity and overly-independent instrumental parts, Mozart’s operas were attacked for moral reasons. Don Giovanni and Così fan tutte were considered most problematic in this respect. The same moralizing tendency that affected German translations of the libretto was at work here. An AMZ critic noted in 1801 that Don Giovanni was especially popular due to the protagonist’s wild sensuality and the music was sometimes so passionate that it would move even the most barbaric audience members.48 Johann Gottfried Herder was upset that composers of Mozart’s stature would set such unworthy, shameful subject matter, and was especially critical of Così fan tutte, Figaro, and Don Giovanni for this reason.49 Despite these criticisms, many critics tried to acknowledge Mozart’s uniqueness. In order to capture the enchanting and inimitable qualities of Mozart’s music, admirers often resorted to analogies with other great artists. In June 1800 the AMZ published a lengthy essay entitled ‘Raphael und Mozart’.50 In comparing Mozart to Raphael, the critics now attribute a pure and childlike quality to the composer. Rochlitz noticed many parallels in the two artists’ education and life story, and saw their infinite inventiveness as their most characteristic attribute. However, they were both human beings and thus prone to weakness. Mozart was once again criticized for overly- dense structures, bizarre modulations, crude transitions, and the like. Even behind the most melancholic passages lurked a secret rage.51 Such problematic features in Mozart’s music obviously caused cracks in the Apollonian image that Rochlitz was trying to paint in his comparison of Mozart to Raphael.

47 ‘Anrede an die schweizerische Musikgesellschaft’, published in AMZ 13: 39, 40 & 41 (25 September, 2 & 9 October 1811), cols 656-664, 665-673, 685-692. Even in 1826, Nägeli rejected Mozart’s ‘faulty’ aria style as being too symphonic. Hans Georg Nägeli, Vorlesungen über Musik mit Berücksichtigung der Dilettanten, Reprograf. Nachdruck der Ausgabe Stuttgart und Tübingen, Cotta, 1826 (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1983), p.226. 48 AMZ 4: 6 (4 November 1801), cols 85-86. 49 Herder, Sämtliche Werke, XXIII, p.336. 50 AMZ 2: 37 (11 Juni 1800), cols 641-651. (The author was Friedrich Rochlitz.) 51 AMZ 2: 37, col.649. 138 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

The following year, theologian Johann Karl Friedrich Triest (1764-1810) proposed another parallel: Shakespeare.52 After declaring Mozart the greatest theater composer of the last musical period of the eighteenth century,53 and Don Giovanni his best opera,54 he turned to the comparison with the English playwright. Both excelled in their vivid depiction of the emotions, but each was rebuked for breaking the traditional rules of his art, such as poetic unity or strict composition. Characteristically, their works also violated decorum. Shakespeare introduced anachronisms and atrocious scenes; Mozart contrasted the comic and tragic too frequently and employed bizarre modulations. According to Triest, it would be fruitful for aesthetics to compare Don Giovanni to Lear, Hamlet, or Othello. Franz Horn pursued the parallel with Shakespeare in 1802, noting that both Shakespeare and Mozart blended tragic and comic elements. While Shakespeare had been staunchly defended (for example, in Goethe’s novel Wilhelm Meister), Mozart was still being rebuked for this very reason. Mozart’s works, however, like Shakespeare’s, were neither tragic nor comic but Romantic. Particularly in Don Giovanni, the music of the ghost of the Commendatore was beyond what could be expressed in words, demonstrating that art is a means for revealing the infinite in concrete form.55 Horn thus defines Don Giovanni as a Romantic opera and its music as the language of the ineffable. During the nineteenth century, critics continued both parallels; the comparison with Raphael mostly drew from both artists’ vitæ, as both were child prodigies, creating works from divine inspiration. The parallel with Shakespeare could only be made based on the latter’s works, for almost nothing was known about his life. The Apollonian

52 AMZ 3: 23 (4 March 1801), cols 391-392 fn.**. Triest published a survey of German musical developments during the previous century in a series of articles for the AMZ entitled ‘Bemerkungen über die Ausbildung der Tonkunst in Deutschland im achtzehnten Jahrhundert’ (‘Remarks on the Development of the Art of Music in Germany in the Eighteenth Century’). 53 Triest distinguished three periods in eighteenth-century German music: the first lasting until the death of J. S. Bach, the second comprising the period starting with Graun, Hasse, C. Ph. E. Bach up to Haydn and Mozart, and the third running from Mozart’s era until the end of the century. 54 AMZ 3: 23 (4 March 1801), cols 389-390. Triest predicts that Don Giovanni will be considered a masterpiece by the end of the century, changes in taste notwithstanding (AMZ 3: 23, p.391). In a footnote he takes issue with the horrible German translations that had disfigured the opera almost everywhere, much to the disgrace of the theater managements. 55 AMZ 4: 26 (24 March 1802), col.425. Don Juan 139 vision would eventually prevail as the ‘overwhelming’ and ‘sublime’ aspects were increasingly associated with Beethoven.56 Hoffmann’s tale Don Juan therefore offers more than a new staging of Don Giovanni that counters common performance practices such as Singspiel or farce, as well as the moralizing efforts of the German versions. As with Ritter Gluck, the tale models a new way of writing critically about opera, unlike any hitherto found in the press. This time, Hoffmann refrains from any biographical approach or comparison, but makes the work central by restaging Mozart’s opera in an imaginary performance that is subsequently interpreted by an enthusiast. As in the earlier tale, there are no technical analyses, but the enthusiast does address pressing problems of interpretation, such as legitimizing Don Giovanni’s terrible punishment. His plea for a return to the original score indicates that he knows the opera well and has arrived at his interpretation by a close study of the work.

Mozart’s Score and Donna Anna’s Secret

The plot itself, according to the enthusiast, is hardly worth mentioning and one wonders how Mozart could have conceived and composed such music based on this unpoetic idea.57 This opinion, which he seems to share with contemporary critics, is followed, however, by a radical remark concerning the role of Donna Anna. He turns directly to the addressee of his letter, which reveals that he is keenly aware of the boldness of his statement:

Gewiß ist es Dir, mein Theodor, aufgefallen, daß ich von Anna’s Verführung gesprochen; und so gut ich es in dieser Stunde, wo tief aus dem Gemüt hervorgehende Gedanken und Ideen die Worte überflügeln, vermag, sage ich Dir mit wenigen Worten, wie mir in der Musik, ohne alle Rücksicht auf den Text, das ganze Verhältnis der beiden im Kampf begriffenen Naturen (Don Juan and Donna Anna) erscheint.

56 Georg Nikolaus von Nissen’s biography employs both parallels. He takes his comparison with Shakespeare almost literally from Horn’s and Triest’s AMZ contributions. (Biographie W. A. Mozart’s (Leipzig: Breitkopf & Härtel, 1828), Anhang pp.62-66) His exposé on Don Giovanni is greatly indebted to Hoffmann’s Don Juan (Nissen, Anhang, pp.95-111). The extensive biography by Otto Jahn (W. A. Mozart, 4 vols (Leipzig: Breitkopf & Härtel, 1856-1859)) emphasizes the noble beauty of Mozart’s music and prefers the parallel with Raphael (IV (1859), pp.744-745). Romantic composers such as Robert Schumann also associated Mozart’s music with harmony, balance and grace. Robert Schumann, Gesammelte Schriften über Musik und Musiker, 2 vols (Leipzig: Breitkopf & Härtel, 1914), I, pp.9, 105. 57 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.704. 140 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

(It has surely struck you, my Theodore, that I spoke of Anna’s seduction. In this hour, thoughts and ideas spring from my mind faster than I am able to write them down, but I shall try to explain in few words how the entire struggle between the natures of Don Juan and Anna is conveyed to me in the music, without any reference to the text.)58

The enthusiast is convinced that the music conveys a deeper meaning and tells its own story, regardless of the text. He does not fail to point out the musical passages on which he is basing his new interpretation, namely the overture and Donna Anna’s great scenes.59 At the beginning of the overture, the enthusiast comments: ‘Die ersten Akkorde der Ouvertüre überzeugten mich, daß ein ganz vortreffliches Orchester, sollten die Sänger auch nur im mindesten etwas leisten, mir den herrlichsten Genuß des Meisterwerks verschaffen würde’. (‘The first chords of the overture convinced me that, if the singers proved the least bit competent, an excellent orchestra would assure a most enjoyable performance of the masterpiece’.)60 The enthusiast here is clearly pointing to the importance of the instrumental part in the opera, and challenging critics who charged Mozart’s operas with being too symphonic at the expense of the vocal parts. At the same time, his remark also affirms that he is well acquainted with the opera. He then continues: ‘In dem Andante ergriffen mich die Schauer des furchtbaren, unterirdischen regno all pianto; grausenerregende Ahnungen des Entsetzlichen erfüllten mein Gemüt’. (‘During the Andante I was gripped by the thrills of the terrifying, infernal regno all pianto. Ominous premonitions of horror filled my soul’.)61 These dire forebodings come true in the second act finale, where in Scene Fifteen the beginning of the overture returns to accompany the statue’s entrance. The enthusiast also singles out Bar Seven of the overture’s Allegro:

Wie ein jauchzender Frevel klang mir die jubelnde Fanfare im siebenten Takte des Allegro; ich sah aus tiefer Nacht feurige Dämonen ihre glühenden Krallen ausstrecken – nach dem Leben froher Menschen, die auf des bodenlosen Abgrunds dünner Decke lustig tanzten. Der Konflikt der menschlichen Natur mit den unbekannten, gräßlichen Mächten, die ihn, sein Verderben erlauernd, umfangen, trat klar vor meines Geistes Augen.

58 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, pp.706-707; Fantasy Pieces, p.62. 59 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, pp.696-698, 707-708. 60 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.696; Fantasy Pieces, p.54. 61 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.696; Fantasy Pieces, p.55. Allanbrook has pointed out how musical elements such as the dotted rhythms and the antique chaconne bass are typical of ombra scenes, and in combination with a slow alla breve meter allude to old church music. Wye Jamison Allanbrook, Rhythmic Gesture in Mozart: ‘Le Nozze di Figaro’ and ‘Don Giovanni’ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1983), pp.197-198. Don Juan 141

(The jubilant fanfare in the seventh measure of the Allegro rang out like a joyous sacrilege. I saw fiery demons stretch glowing claws from the depths of blackness toward the lives of joyful men who danced gaily on a flimsy bridge over the bottomless pit. The conflict between human nature and unknown, horrible powers that seek mankind’s ruin appeared clearly to my mind’s eye.)62

The same jubilant fanfare in the overture will introduce the dinner party in the second act finale, to which Don Giovanni has also invited the statue. For the enthusiast, the fanfare thus alludes to Don Giovanni’s contempt for his fellow human beings and for higher powers. The conflict between human nature and the Unknown that the enthusiast hears may additionally have been evoked by the contrast between the dark D minor of the Overture’s Andante and the bright D major of the Allegro. D minor returns when the statue enters in the finale of Act II. A D minor chord in root position occurs when Don Giovanni refuses to repent: ‘No no, ch’io non mi pento’. When the statue leaves, accompanied by flames and earthquakes, D minor is firmly established. The survivors celebrate his punishment and the restoration of order in a concluding ensemble in D major. For the enthusiast, the overture reveals that the opera is not an ordinary opera buffa, in which conflicts can be solved by intrigue and cunning. Only the interference of a higher power can stop Don Giovanni. It is his interpretation of Donna Anna as counterforce to the Don, however, that has astonished most readers and scholars. Her role had, in fact, been more prominent in the Prague version; here, Donna Elvira only has her entrance aria (Act I, No. 3) plus a smaller one, in which she warns Zerlina against Don Giovanni (Act I, No. 8). She has no aria at all in the second act. For the production in Vienna, Mozart enhanced her role by composing a second aria, preceded by a recitativo accompagnato for the famous singer Caterina Cavalieri (Act II, No. 21b). Donna Anna, however, has three accompanied recitatives and two great arias. The enthusiast hints at the fact that she is a character from opera seria; when Donna Anna appears in his box, she speaks to him in ‘the purest Tuscan’. Tuscan, as a literary language, was the language of opera seria, while comic opera mostly employed local dialects. Donna Anna’s seria character is not only established by language, but also by the accompanied recitative, the alla breve meter, long phrases, large melodic intervals, half and quarter notes, and martial dotted rhythms. Her arias are never interrupted, in contrast to Donna Elvira’s, whose first aria is interspersed with Don Giovanni’s comments.

62 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.696; Fantasy Pieces, p.55. 142 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Donna Anna also occupies a special position in key relationships. The overture has already established the conflict between D minor and major. The beginning and end of the second finale are in D major, while Don Giovanni’s descent into Hell is dominated by D minor. Both keys return at important moments throughout the opera: D major, for example, in Leporello’s catalogue aria, Elvira’s warning to Zerlina ‘Ah fuggi il traditor’, Anna’s revenge aria ‘Or sai chi l’onore’, Don Giovanni’s canzonetta at the window, and Don Ottavio’s call on Donna Anna to overcome her grief ‘Tergi il ciglio, o vita mia’ (Act II, No. 19 Sextet). Donna Anna, however, replies in D minor. D minor is also the key of the fatal duel between Don Giovanni and the Commendatore; Donna Anna and Don Ottavio had sworn vengeance beside his corpse in D minor; it is also the key in which she refers to her murdered father in the aforementioned revenge aria. While D major alludes to reality and expresses Don Giovanni’s lust for life, D minor evokes transience and death. The key relationships therefore bind the fates of the Commendatore, Don Giovanni and Donna Anna more closely together than is suggested by the text itself. Although Donna Elvira is the driving force in the action, time and again exposing Don Giovanni’s true intentions, the enthusiast sees in Donna Anna his true antagonist, who will finally bring about his downfall. To support this view, he singles out Donna Anna’s accompanied recitatives:

Wie lebhaft im Innersten meiner Seele fühlte ich alles dieses in den, die Brust zerreißenden Akkorden des ersten Rezitativs [first accompanied recitative] und der Erzählung von dem nächtlichen Überfall! [second accompanied recitative] – Selbst die Szene der Donna Anna im zweiten Akt: Crudele [third accompanied recitative], die, oberflächlich betrachtet, sich nur auf den Don Ottavio bezieht, spricht in geheimen Anklängen, in den wunderbarsten Beziehungen, jene innere, alles irdische Glück verzehrende Stimmung der Seele aus.

(How vividly I felt all this in the heart-rending chords of the first recitative [first accompanied recitative] and the report of the assault in the night! [second accompanied recitative] Superficially, Donna Anna’s scene in the second act, crudele [third accompanied recitative], is directed toward Don Ottavio; but its secret, sympathetic vibrations are miraculously attuned to an inner mood where earthly fortunes mean little.)63

The first recitativo accompagnato occurs after Don Giovanni has killed the Commendatore, when Donna Anna discovers her father’s corpse: ‘Ma qual mai s’offre, o dei, spettacolo funesto agli occhi miei!’ (‘Oh gods, what terrible sight do my eyes behold?’ Act I, No. 2.) The enthusiast is convinced

63 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, pp.707-708; Fantasy Pieces, p.63. Don Juan 143 that more than despair is behind the terrible, heart-rending sounds of the recitative and duet, and only a devastating internal struggle can produce them. Besides her father’s death and her engagement with the ‘cold’, ‘unmanly’ Don Ottavio, it is ‘the raging love that flared up to consume her innermost spirit in the moment of greatest pleasure’, now burning with the fire of annihilating hate, that is exacerbating her suffering. The way in which Donna Anna’s fate is bound to that of Don Giovanni is crucial for the enthusiast’s interpretation: ‘Sie fühlt, nur Don Juans Untergang kann der, von tödlichen Martern beängsteten Seele Ruhe verschaffen; aber diese Ruhe ist ihr eigner irdischer Untergang’. (‘Only Don Juan’s downfall can procure her soul’s peace from its mortal torment. But that peace must bring her own earthly destruction’.)64 The enthusiast must have paused at the remarkable harmonic progressions of the recitative (Musical Example 6).

64 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.707; Fantasy Pieces, p.63. 144 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Musical Example 6: Don Giovanni, Act I, No. 2, Recitativo accompagnato e Duetto (Donna Anna, Don Ottavio), mm. 1-25.

Donna Anna’s horror at discovering the corpse is expressed by the initial orchestral eruption in C minor (mm. 1-5) and the following full orchestral chords in F minor (mm. 8-12), the key in which the Commendatore drew his last breath. The tremolos in the viola reveal Donna Anna’s trembling. When she recognizes that the body is indeed her father’s, the key darkens to A-flat major and finally, upon reaching the certainty that he is dead, to F- Don Juan 145 sharp major (mm. 24f). The harmonic progression between such extremely remote keys (F minor to F-sharp major) within just a few measures suggests to the enthusiast that this was an important dramatic moment in need of further explanation. He is convinced that more is at stake and believes that he has found it in the next accompanied recitative (‘Don Ottavio, son morta!’ (‘Don Ottavio, I am dying’), Act I, No. 10). Here, Don Giovanni says goodbye on the dominant F, after offering his help to Don Ottavio and Donna Anna in finding the murderer of her father. With the rising B-flat triad in cello and basses, it dawns on Anna that Don Giovanni is identical to the murderer. B-flat major was also the key in which she had chased him in the first scene. Only now does she inform Don Ottavio about the nocturnal visit to her room before the murder. First she breaks off, and only continues at Don Ottavio’s insistence. When she reaches the point where she tells how she freed herself from the intruder’s grip (‘da lui mi sciolsi’), a deceptive cadence follows: The dominant seventh chord on E does not resolve to A minor or major, but to F major (Musical Example 7, mm. 51-52). 146 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Musical Example 7: Don Giovanni, Act I, No. 10 Recitativo accompagnato ed Aria (Donna Anna, Don Ottavio), mm. 40-53.

As this is the key that Don Ottavio subsequently picks up to voice his relief, ‘ohime, respiro’, the harmonic progression seems to express his relieved feelings. By interpreting the deceptive cadence as reference to Donna Anna’s words, as the enthusiast seems to do, it casts doubt on whether she is telling the (whole) truth. In her subsequent aria, ‘Or sai chi l’onore’, (‘Now you know who sought to steal my honor’) in which she demands that Don Ottavio avenge her, she refers to her honor first, before mentioning her father. The ambiguities of recitative and aria thus give the enthusiast enough leeway to guess the deeper secrets in Donna Anna’s heart. Donna Anna’s great scene and aria in the second act is key to his interpretation of her role. After his conversation with Donna Anna in the box, this act as a whole has a powerful effect on him, as if dreams from another world are coming to life. This is particularly true for Donna Anna’s part: ‘In Donna Anna’s Szene fühlte ich mich von einem sanften, warmen Hauch, der über mich hinwegglitt, in trunkener Wollust erbeben; unwillkürlich schlossen sich meine Augen und ein glühender Kuß schien auf meinen Lippen zu brennen: aber der Kuß war ein, wie von ewig dürstender Sehnsucht lang ausgehaltener Ton’. (‘In Donna Anna’s scene, I trembled, intoxicated by a soft, warm breath that seemed to glide over me. My eyes closed and a glowing kiss seemed to burn my lips; that kiss was like a long, Don Juan 147 sustained note of eternal longing’.)65 Donna Anna seems transformed in this scene; she is neither petrified with horror and grief nor filled with revenge, but for the first time turns lovingly to her fiancé. Don Ottavio has just accused her of being cruel by fending off his offer of marriage. In her aria ‘Non mi dir, bell’idol mio’ (‘Do not tell me, my beloved’ Act II, No. 23), Donna Anna first explains that her behavior was the result of grief rather than cruelty. The second part of the aria, however, is completely dominated by coloratura, which makes it unique in the opera. Its virtuosity seems inappropriate in the given dramatic situation and has puzzled critics, directors, and scholars up to the present day. In his memoirs, Hector Berlioz, for example, explained how he had been shocked by the virtuosic display in an aria of such profound sadness, degenerating towards the end into ‘des notes ridicules et d’une inconvenance tellement choquante, qu’on a peine à croire qu’elles aient pu échapper à la plume d’un pareil homme’ (‘notes of such shocking unseemliness and absurdity that one can hardly believe it to be the work of the same man’). In a footnote Berlioz added: ‘Je trouve même l’épithète de honteuse insuffisante pour flétrir ce passage. Mozart a commis là contre la passion, contre le sentiment, contre le bon goût et le bon sens, un des crimes les plus odieux et les plus insensés que l’on puisse citer dans l’histoire de l’art’. (‘Even shameful seems to me too light a word to stigmatize this passage. Mozart here has committed one of the most odious and mindless crimes against passion, taste and common sense of which the history of art provides an example’.)66 The great Mozart biographer Hermann Abert also was at a loss to explain the aria’s virtuosity; he considered it a dramaturgical weakness and nothing but a stopgap measure.67 Luigi Dallapiccola dismissed the aria for other reasons. In his view, it held up the action and ruined the symmetrical organization of the beginning and end of the opera.68 The aria clearly poses a problem for interpreters with its display of vocal virtuosity at an unpredictable moment. The enthusiast, however, sees it as proof of his interpretation’s accuracy. After depicting Don Giovanni and Donna Anna as antagonists, he addresses this scene once more, asserting

65 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.701; Fantasy Pieces, p.58. 66 Hector Berlioz, Mémoires. Chronologie et introduction par Pierre Citron, 2 vols (Paris: Garnier-Flammarion, 1969), I, pp.123, 124 fn.1; The Memoirs of Hector Berlioz, translated and edited by David Cairns (New York: A. A. Knopf, 2002), p.69. 67 Hermann Abert, W. A. Mozart, neubearbeitete und erweiterte Ausgabe von Otto Jahns Mozart, 2 vols (Leipzig: VEB Breitkopf & Härtel, 1978-1979), II: 1783-1791 (1979), p.448. 68 Luigi Dallapiccola, ‘Notes on the Statue Scene in Don Giovanni’, Music Survey, 3: 2 (1950), 89-97. 148 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera that Donna Anna only seemingly turned to Don Ottavio, while her inner mood was far removed from earthly fortunes. He continued: ‘Was soll selbst in den Worten der sonderbare, von dem Dichter vielleicht unbewußt hingeworfene Zusatz: forse un giorno il cielo ancora sentirà pietà di me! –’ (‘What other meaning can there be in the words of the unusual phrase that the poet (perhaps unconsciously) set down: forse un giorno il cielo ancora sentira pietà di me!’)69 ‘Perhaps one day Heaven will yet feel pity for me!’: These last verses are brought out in the text by italics and indentation.70 They are the two verses that also stand out musically by their virtuosic setting. Was it only to give the singer the opportunity to shine that Mozart opted for such a virtuosic display? In the opera, the scene begins on a very different note: The recitative is accompanied only by strings, and the tender melody in B-flat major anticipates the forthcoming aria. Donna Anna is reacting indignantly to Don Ottavio’s accusation of cruelty. The melody in the strings is subsequently repeated in F major, which is also the key of the aria. The woodwinds (flute and clarinet) underline the feelings of tenderness. Thus far in the opera, Donna Anna has been portrayed as grief-stricken, mostly in D minor or other minor keys, or full of vengeance (D major). She now strikes a new note by turning to her fiancé and singing in F major, the relative major of D minor (Musical Example 8). She still seems to be overcome by sorrow, however.

69 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.708; Fantasy Pieces, p.63. 70 See AMZ 15: 13 (31 March 1813), col.224. Don Juan 149

Musical Example 8: Don Giovanni, Act II, No. 23 Recitativo accompagnato e Rondo (Donna Anna), mm. 28-47. 150 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Soon after the cadence on the tonic F (m. 35), she reaches the dominant C major (m. 37). C major, however, soon turns to C minor (m. 42). In the following recapitulation, she leaves out the words ‘tu ben sai quant’io t’amai, tu conosci la mia fè’ (‘you well know, how much I did love you, you know my faithfulness’), and sings the words of the dominant section instead: ‘Calma, calma il tuo tormento’ (‘calm, calm your tormenting doubts’) (compare mm. 38-47 with Musical Example 9, mm. 55-63). Instead of staying in the tonic, this phrase quickly modulates to F minor, thus again changing to a darker mood. The second part of the aria, Allegretto moderato (mm. 64ff), showcases the much-criticized coloratura passages. Don Juan 151 152 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Musical Example 9: Don Giovanni, Act II, No. 23 Recitativo accompagnato e Rondo (Donna Anna), mm. 55-93.

From a musical perspective, this harmonically-stable passage is needed to resolve the tensions of the preceding part. The dominant section had been skipped in the recapitulation, and the latter itself had been in F minor rather than major. The vocal brilliance thus serves a dual purpose: Apart from offering the singer an opportunity to display virtuosity, these measures also ease the tensions and restore the harmonic balance of the aria. For the enthusiast, this second part is much more than mere vocal display or the resolution of harmonic tensions, but confirms his interpretation of Donna Anna’s role: She seems to have forgotten both her grief and her fiancé, and asks for pity from Heaven instead. The aria’s placement between the scene at the graveyard and the second finale lends it a prophetic quality: Donna Anna seems to have a premonition of the approaching supernatural interference. Neither Donna Elvira nor Masetto will be able to bring Don Giovanni to justice; after calling on Don Ottavio for revenge to no avail, Donna Anna finally turns to a higher power for help. The enthusiast sees Donna Anna’s crucial ‘behind the scenes’ role, revealed so far only in the music of her great scenes and arias, as being confirmed in the final scene following Don Giovanni’s downfall (Act II, scena ultima [Scene sixteen]). Therefore this scene could not be omitted, in his view. He draws particular attention to the ‘little duet’ between Don Ottavio and Donna Anna in this final scene: Don Juan 153

Wie wohltätig wirkt nun die Erscheinung der übrigen Personen, die den Juan, der von unterirdischen Mächten irdischer Rache entzogen, vergebens suchen. Es ist, als wäre man nun erst dem furchtbaren Kreise der höllischen Geister entronnen. – Donna Anna erschien ganz verändert: eine Totenblässe überzog ihr Gesicht, das Auge war erloschen, die Stimme zitternd und ungleich: aber eben dadurch, in dem kleinen Duett mit dem süßen Bräutigam, der nun, nachdem ihn der Himmel des gefährlichen Rächer-Amts glücklich überhoben hat, gleich Hochzeit machen will, von herzzerreißender Wirkung.

(What a benign effect the appearance of the remaining characters has! In vain they seek Don Juan, whom the powers of the other world have plucked from earthly vengeance. It is as if the spectator himself has escaped the dread sphere of Hell’s demons. Donna Anna seemed completely transformed. Her face had a deathly pallor, the sparkle in her eyes was extinguished, her voice trembled – but all the more her little duet with the prissy fiancé (who, now that Heaven has fortunately saved him from the dangerous duty of revenge, wants an immediate wedding) has a heart-rending effect.)71

In this ‘duet’, Donna Anna again asks that the wedding be postponed for a year, which strengthens the enthusiast’s assumption that she does not love her fiancé. In the second part of the tale, where he reflects on the opera, he interprets Donna Anna’s request as follows: ‘lascia, o caro, un anno ancora, allo sfogo del mio cor! Sie wird dieses Jahr nicht überstehen; Don Ottavio wird niemals die umarmen, die ein frommes Gemüt davon rettete, des Satans geweihte Braut zu bleiben’. (‘She will not survive the year. Don Ottavio will never embrace her whose own piety saves her from remaining Satan’s chosen bride’.)72 Donna Anna’s highly dramatic scenes, her relentless calls for revenge, her distancing from Don Ottavio by turning to Heaven, all convince the enthusiast that Donna Anna’s fate is tied to Don Giovanni, for whom she had a secret passion. He could, however, ruin only her earthly being, not her immortal soul.

Reflections on Donna Anna’s Role

The enthusiast’s specific focus has been directed onto Donna Anna’s role because her scenes and arias seemed to challenge the common view of the opera as opera buffa or dramma giocoso, which had led contemporary staging practice to heighten its comic aspects.73 Donna Anna’s role convinced him

71 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.702; Fantasy Pieces, p.59. 72 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.707; Fantasy Pieces, p.63. 73 On the libretto, the term dramma giocoso is used. Mozart himself records in his catalogue of works: ‘Il dissoluto punito, o. il Don Giovanni. opera Buffa in 2 Atti. –

154 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera that the music revealed a deeper drama and was no mere tautology of the libretto. Her role, in fact, still poses a problem to interpreters today. While Christof Bitter sees her as a soft, maidenly figure, even in her revenge aria ‘Or sai chi l’onore’, James Webster, Wye Jamison Allanbrook, and Hartmut Krones emphasize her heroic side.74 Allanbrook calls the enthusiast’s favorite aria, ‘Non mi dir, bell’idol mio’, a ‘chilling affair’, of which the second virtuosic part is nothing but an ‘icy ornament’.75 Krones and Brown- Montesano, to the contrary, believe that Anna reveals her genuine inner emotions for the first time here.76 Questions persist about the female protagonist, and whether Donna Anna had in fact been seduced.77 Naturally, those who view Donna Anna as a young and fragile girl consider Donna Elvira to be the real female protagonist.78 Others are convinced that this role is reserved for Donna Anna.79 Many of the insights put forward by Hoffmann’s enthusiast are still with us in current performances and interpretations. Attila Csampai, for example, maintains that Donna Anna is erotically attracted to Don Giovanni and does not love her fiancé. Don

Pezzi di musica. 24’. (‘Verzeichnüss aller meiner Werke vom Monath febrario 1784 bis Monath [November 1791]. Wolfgang Amadé Mozart’, Otto Erich Deutsch, Mozart’s Catalogue of his Works 1784-1791 (New York: Reichner, [1956]), p.14.) 74 Bitter, Wandlungen in den Inszenierungsformen, pp.31-32; James Webster, ‘The Analysis of Mozart’s Arias’, in: Mozart Studies, ed. by Cliff Eisen (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991), 101-199 (p.107); Allanbrook, Rhythmic Gesture in Mozart, pp.22, 229; Wege zu Mozart – Don Giovanni, ed. by Herbert Zeman (Vienna: Hölder-Pichler-Tempsky, 1987), p.35; Hartmut Krones, ‘“Südliche Popularité und nordische Gelehrsamkeit”. Mozarts Musiksprache am Beispiel des “Don Giovanni”’, in Musikkulturgeschichte. Festschrift für Constantin Floros zum 60. Geburtstag, ed. by Peter Petersen (Wiesbaden: Breitkopf & Härtel, 1990), pp.341-368 (p.348). 75 Allanbrook, Rhythmic Gesture in Mozart, p.229. 76 Krones, ‘Südliche Popularité und nordische Gelehrsamkeit’, p.353; Wege zu Mozart – Don Giovanni, p.35; Kristi Brown-Montesano, Understanding the Women of Mozart’s Operas (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2007), pp.25-33. 77 For an overview of the various positions from a women’s studies perspective, see Brown-Montesano, Understanding the Women of Mozart’s Operas, pp.10ff. According to Brown-Montesano, Donna Anna is torn between the demands of two different loves, between padre and sposo, which explains her emotional extremes. 78 Bitter, Wandlungen in den Inszenierungsformen, pp.98, 99; Attila Csampai in Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Don Giovanni. Texte, Materialien, Kommentare. Mit einem Essay von Attila Csampai, ed. by Attila Csampai and Dietmar Holland (Reinbek bei Hamburg: Rowohlt, 1981), p.19; Ernst Lert in Csampai, ed., Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, p.248. 79 Alfred Einstein in Csampai, ed., Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, p.188; Stefan Kunze, ‘“Il dissoluto punito o sia Il Don Giovanni”: Abgründe der Komödie’, in Stefan Kunze, Mozarts Opern (Stuttgart: Reclam, 1984), pp.319-431 (p.322); Sabine Henze-Döhring, Opera seria, opera buffa und Mozarts ‘Don Giovanni’. Zur Gattungskonvergenz in der italienischen Oper des 18. Jahrhunderts (Laaber: Laaber-Verlag, 1986), p.138-139. Don Juan 155

Ottavio, moreover, is decadent, unerotic and vain and sets a high value on etiquette and outfit.80 The enthusiast had described Don Ottavio almost identically: ‘ein zierliches, geputztes, gelecktes Männlein’ (‘a delicate, prissy little man’).81 According to the director Walter Felsenstein, even though Donna Anna is Don Giovanni’s born partner, her passion turns into hatred and she is consumed by a dreadful inner conflict. She is aware that she will not survive the year by which she has postponed her marriage. Felsenstein furthermore echoes the enthusiast in his interpretation of Donna Anna’s last aria and asserts that his comments are based on the score rather than the text.82 Ironically, both Csampai and Felsenstein are highly vocal in objecting to Hoffmann’s tale, although they apparently cannot escape its influence on their own Don Giovanni interpretations. The enthusiast in Don Juan called attention to the emotional extremes in Donna Anna’s scenes and to the seriousness of her music. His interpretation is an attempt to explain Donna Anna’s appearances throughout the opera, from the beginning to the final scene.83 As was the case in Ritter Gluck, a mysterious figure again interferes, validating the views set forth in the tale. This time, the figure does not resemble the composer but rather the singer of Donna Anna’s role, or perhaps its personification. The enthusiast hears a rustling sound behind him and, assuming it is the rustle of silk from a lady’s gown, paid no attention. Upon turning around after the end of the first act, he is completely taken by surprise: ‘Nein – keine Worte drücken mein Erstaunen aus: Donna Anna, ganz in dem Costume, wie ich sie eben auf dem Theater gesehen, stand hinter mir, und richtete auf mich den durchdringenden Blick ihres seelenvollen Auges’. (‘No words can express my astonishment! Donna Anna, still in her stage costume, stood behind me and transfixed me with her soulful eyes’.)84 They enter into a conversation, and the enthusiast laments having to translate her words into German, in which everything is ‘stiff’ and ‘dull’, compared to her light and graceful Tuscan. He assures the reader that only now did the deeper meaning of the opera become apparent to him: ‘Indem sie über den Don Juan, über ihre Rolle sprach, war es, als öffneten sich mir nun erst die Tiefen des Meisterwerks, und ich konnte hell hineinblicken und einer

80 Csampai, ed., Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, pp.16, 17, 29, 30. 81 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.697; Fantasy Pieces, p.56. 82 Walter Felsenstein in Csampai, ed., Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, p.266. 83 Here, Mozart and Da Ponte’s opera differs considerably from its model, Don Giovanni o sia Il Convitato di pietra by Giuseppe Gazzaniga and Giovanni Bertati (Venice, 1787). Donna Anna reveals everything right at the beginning, after which she disappears from the opera. 84 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.699; Fantasy Pieces, p.57. 156 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera fremden Welt phantastische Erscheinungen deutlich erkennen’. (‘As she spoke about Don Juan and her role, it was as if a door had opened for the first time into the depths of the masterpiece, and I was able to look in and clearly discern a strange world of fantastic phenomena’.)85 The enthusiast thus assures us that his interpretation was not his own, but had been revealed to him by Donna Anna. He is at pains to convince the reader that Donna Anna had in fact visited his box: ‘It was Donna Anna, without a doubt’. He adds that it had not occurred to him to wonder how she could be on stage and in his box at the same time. For the first time, he also directly turns to his interlocutor Theodore, announcing that he will try to summarize her words in ‘clumsy’ German. The idea that music expresses what cannot be put into words also comes from Donna Anna: ‘Sie sagte, ihr ganzes Leben sei Musik, und oft glaube sie manches im Innern geheimnisvoll Verschlossene, was keine Worte aussprächen, singend zu begreifen’. (‘Music was her entire life, she said; in singing, she often thought she could understand mysteries locked inside her that she could not express in words’.)86 We then learn that Anna knows the enthusiast’s given name and has sung the role of the heroine in his latest opera. At first, however, several aspects seem to reveal that she cannot be identical to the singer herself. Although wearing Donna Anna’s costume, the enthusiast notices that she is not wearing makeup. She disappears when the theater bell rings. The first time this bell rang, just before the beginning of the performance, it had awakened the enthusiast; was it awakening him again or at least cutting short his musings on Donna Anna’s role? The entire encounter between the two in the box dramatizes the process of critical reflection on the opera and its musical composition. Donna Anna complains how people ignorantly ‘applaud a difficult roulade or a successful passage’, without properly understanding its deeper meaning. ‘Aber du – du verstehst mich: denn ich weiß, daß auch dir das wunderbare, romantische Reich aufgegangen, wo die himmlischen Zauber der Töne wohnen!’ (‘But you understand me, because I know that you, too, have discovered that miraculous, romantic realm where the heavenly magic of music dwells’.)87 Her remark boosts the credibility of the enthusiast, who turns out not only to be an opera composer but also one who is capable of recognizing what is behind the notes, as he demonstrates after the intermission in interpreting the aria ‘Non mi dir, bell’idol mio’.

85 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.700; Fantasy Pieces, pp.57-58. 86 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.700; Fantasy Pieces, p.58. 87 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.700; Fantasy Pieces, p.58. Don Juan 157

The fact that the visitor to his box does not care to be admired for vocal virtuosity, in addition to the information that she is not wearing makeup, might also allude to a singer who is wholly dedicated to music. The observation that she is indifferent to her outward appearance is confirmed by a remark from a member of the audience. He notes that the Italian woman was rather attractive, but is ‘too careless with her costume and trimming’. A further hint at the visitor’s nature is her remark about her singing in the enthusiast’s opera: ‘ich habe dich gesungen, so wie deine Melodien ich sind’. (‘I sang you, just as I am your melodies’.)88 In other words: Just as the composer completely identifies with his characters, so too does the interpreter of his works. The singer becomes one with the role she sings. The performer and what he or she represents are one and the same. This total identification finally leads to the fulfilling of the enthusiast’s prediction that Donna Anna will not survive to marry Don Ottavio. For the tale ends with a conversation over lunch the following afternoon, where a ‘clever man’ reports that the singer died that very morning at precisely two o’clock. This was exactly the moment when the enthusiast has finished his interpretation and, while falling asleep, believes that he hears Anna’s voice on the wings of the orchestra’s swelling music, ‘Non mi dir bell’idol mio’. Perhaps contemporary readers were less astonished than modern audiences by this twist in the story’s plot. In January 1802, for example, the AMZ reported the untimely death of the greatly admired and respected singer, Madame Galvani. She had sung with her entire soul, the critic commented warmly, and had brought the music to life with an indescribable tone of inner feeling. ‘Aber eben darum wurde sie zu sehr durch ihr Singen angegriffen, und so ein frühes Opfer ihres Kunsteifers’. (‘For this reason, however, she was overly affected by her singing, and therefore an early victim of her enthusiasm for art’.)89 The singer therefore had literally sung herself to death by overidentifying with her roles. Donna Anna’s death confirms both her genuine dedication to art and the enthusiast’s prediction. Staging a reflection of Donna Anna’s role by a face-to-face encounter with the singer is not a contradiction after all if, ideally, role and singer become one and the same.

88 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.700; Fantasy Pieces, p.58. 89 AMZ 4: 18 (27 January 1802), cols 295-296. 158 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

A Tale Inspired by Music

Hoffmann’s tale reenacts Mozart’s score in other respects as well. We have already seen that the tale skips certain parts of the opera in favor of Donna Anna’s scenes, among others. A closer examination of the score reveals that the narrator focuses primarily on the opera’s larger scene-complexes: the beginning of the first act and both finali. These scenes also stand out in the tale by a consistent use of the present tense, while other parts and reflections are conveyed in the preterite. A good example is the opera’s beginning. The enthusiast’s reflections during the overture are delivered in the past tense, but the moment the curtain rises, the narrator immediately changes to the present tense to describe the action and his interpretation: from Leporello’s complaints about his duties, Donna Anna’s chase of Don Giovanni, and the killing of the Commendatore to the discovery of his corpse by Donna Anna and Don Ottavio and their vow of vengeance. This scene-complex, interrupted only twice by a brief recitative, is entirely through-composed and also forms a unity in the disposition of keys. In his 1815 review, Hoffmann would again point out the unity of these scenes, as we have seen. In his tale, they are connected by the present tense, which both grips and holds the reader’s attention and underlines the music’s role in advancing the action. Donna Elvira’s entrance, the scenes with Zerlina and Masetto, all pass by in the preterite, until the finale of the first act catches one’s attention with a sudden shift to the present tense. The ‘conversation’ with Donna Anna in the box during the intermission and the second act are related in past tense, until a loud knocking at the door is heard and the giant marble statue enters, accompanied by the terrifying chords of the chthonic realm.90 The entire encounter between Don Giovanni and the statue and his descent into Hell remain in the present tense. The tale mirrors the score in presenting these large scene-complexes by employing the present tense, thus drawing attention to the dramatic continuity of the music. At the same time, the narrator sees a deeper dramatic force at work, one hardly noticeable in the text but revealed in Donna Anna’s music, which forms the main topic of his reflections in the second part of the tale. Here, he interprets Donna Anna as the driving force behind Don Giovanni’s tragic end. This interpretation was only possible after a performance was staged that eliminated all extra scenes while including all recitatives and the scena ultima. In his reflections, the enthusiast addresses various problems that the work posed to its interpreters: Don Giovanni’s severe punishment, the

90 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.701 Don Juan 159 incongruous last scene, Donna Anna’s extreme emotions, and the great role of the orchestra, already apparent in the overture and especially in the scenes emphasized by the narrator. In addressing all of these issues, Hoffmann’s tale is firmly based in Mozart’s score and contemporary issues surrounding its interpretation. It aims to present to the public a sublime masterpiece, which Hoffmann had first seen ‘maltreated on the stage’ and then reviewed in a ‘vulgar manner’.91 The tale attempts to counter both misguided performances and incompetent reviews. Although Hoffmann singles out a masterpiece of a German-speaking composer, Mozart is never named, nor is his nationality ever mentioned. The title Don Juan might perhaps suggest that the ‘opera of all operas’ is being Germanized, but as it turns out, the enthusiast warmly welcomes the fact that in this exceptional case, Don Giovanni is performed in the original Italian. All arias and recitatives are referred to in Italian only, and the enthusiast even regrets having to convey his insights about the opera in the ‘stiff’ and ‘clumsy’ German language. Although Mozart’s operas were instrumental in advocating German opera, Titus and Die Zauberflöte lend themselves more easily to this goal than does Don Giovanni, with its morally- problematic subject. Hoffmann shows himself to be less preoccupied with the creation of German opera than with fostering an understanding of opera and of the artistic qualities of Don Giovanni in particular. In doing so, he seems to downplay or even disregard the role of the librettist, especially by calling the story ‘unpoetic’ and by claiming to have based his interpretation entirely on the music. Do the text and subject, then, matter at all? Could opera do without a librettist? These questions are addressed in the dialogue Der Dichter und der Komponist (The Poet and the Composer) that was published in the AMZ at the end of the same year. By that time, significant changes had occurred in Hoffmann’s life and he had embarked on two new careers: literary author and opera conductor.

91 Letter to Rochlitz of 29 January 1809, Briefwechsel, I, p.264.

Chapter Three Poet and Composer: Operatic Insights of an Insider

Turbulent Times

Hoffmann’s final years in Bamberg and his subsequent stays in Dresden and Leipzig (1813-1814) belong to the most productive and tempestuous times of his life. In addition to his activities for the Bamberg theater, Hoffmann provided some of his most important contributions to the AMZ, among them his famous reviews of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony (1810) and overture Coriolan (1812); Ludwig (Louis) Spohr’s First Symphony (1811) and his extensive opera reviews of Joseph Weigl’s Das Waisenhaus (1810); Gluck’s Iphigénie en Aulide (1810); Ferdinando Paer’s Sofonisba (1810-1811); and Adalbert Gyrowetz’s Der Augenarzt (1812). The theater’s director, Franz von Holbein, left abruptly to assume the directorship of the Würzburg theater in 1812, the same year that brought unfortunate developments in Hoffmann’s personal life. Although married to Michaelina Rorer (Mischa) since 1802, he had fallen hopelessly in love with one of his pupils, Julia Mark. After a scandal in September, during which he lost his temper with Julia’s drunken fiancé, Hoffmann was effectively barred from their house. Despite the ensuing uproar, Adalbert Friedrich Marcus, head of the committee in charge of the Bamberg theater after Holbein’s departure, offered Hoffmann the position of stage director.1 At the beginning of the following year, Hoffmann received an offer from Holbein to join him at the theater in Würzburg in late March. This position did not materialize, however, since by 23 April, Holbein himself had resigned from the Würzburg theater due to Prussia’s mounting war effort, and had resumed his career as guest performer. Unexpectedly, yet another offer reached Hoffmann in February 1813: On the recommendations of Gottfried Härtel and Friedrich Rochlitz, Joseph Seconda invited Hoffmann to fill the vacancy of music director at his German opera company in Dresden/Leipzig. Rumours about the company’s deplorable reputation prompted Hoffmann to turn to Rochlitz

1 Tagebücher, 16 November 1812, p.182. The offer, however, turned out to have been wishful thinking on the part of Marcus (Tagebücher, 17 November). 162 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera for advice.2 After Rochlitz’s reassuring reply, Hoffmann accepted Seconda’s terms and agreed to move to Dresden in April.3 Hoffmann had already taken matters into his own hands, however, and on 18 March, the day before he accepted Seconda’s offer, had signed another contract, this one with far-reaching consequences for his life and career.4 Carl Friedrich Kunz (1785-1849), a wine merchant who had founded a library (‘Königliches privilegiertes neues Leseinstitut’) in 1812, had also launched his own publishing house. Kunz had already hired Hoffmann to acquire and catalogue the Italian titles for the library, and now signed a contract with him to publish a two-volume edition of Fantasiestücke in Callot’s Manier.5 The collection would consist of a selection of Hoffmann’s contributions to the AMZ and some new titles. A few months later, however, Hoffmann asked Kunz not to publish his name as author-editor of the Fantasiestücke, explaining that it should become known to the world only through a successful musical composition.6 In thanking Härtel for recommending him to Seconda, Hoffmann had already expressed his hope that through this new position he would finally gain fame as a theater composer.7 In his letter to Härtel, he also expressed his relief that he could avoid going to Würzburg, and assumed that the battles around Leipzig and Dresden would be over by the time he arrived. As events demonstrated, however, this was far too optimistic an assumption. A few days prior to Hoffmann’s letter to Härtel, Prussia had officially declared war on France and King Friedrich Wilhelm III had called on his people for support in the struggle against Napoleon (An mein Volk, 17 March 1813). The King’s proclamation, which was drafted by Hoffmann’s best friend Theodor Gottlieb von Hippel was published on 20 March 1813.8 The Prussian army was expanded by creating volunteer military or paramilitary units, the so-called Freikorps, who now fought alongside the Russians against Napoleon. When Hoffmann left Bamberg for Dresden on 21 April, after passing through Bayreuth, he encountered the first Prussian advance posts. From then on the road was filled with Prussian Hussars, Russian Cossacks, Mongolian Kalmucks and Turkic Bashkirs.

2 Letter of 3 March 1813, Briefwechsel, I, p.367. 3 Tagebücher, 19 March 1813, p.199. 4 The date also marked (probably not coincidentally) Julia’s birthday. 5 The text of the contract in Briefwechsel, III: Nachträgliches. Urkunden. Anzeigen. Offene Briefe. Amtliche Briefe. Die Affäre des ‘Meister Floh’ (1969), pp.36-38. 6 Letter of 20 July 1813, Briefwechsel, I, p.399. 7 Letter of 23 March 1813, Briefwechsel, I, p.370. 8 Schlesische privilegirte Zeitung, no. 34 (20 March 1813) Poet and Composer 163

Chemnitz was full of troops and in Dresden, where he arrived on 25 April, he found the Emperor and King accompanied by twenty thousand guards.9 To his consternation, however, he did not find Seconda, who had stayed in Leipzig, and he did not hear from him for another three weeks, when Seconda asked Hoffmann to join him in Leipzig.10 From Hoffmann’s diaries and letters of this time, we learn of the hardships and misery suffered by the civilians: The city had neither bread nor meat, and a ceaseless rain of bullets and artillery shells shattered doors and windows, randomly wounding and killing anyone in its path.11 Finally, on 20 May, Hoffmann left Dresden but did not arrive in Leipzig until three days later, due to a stagecoach accident in which one of the passengers was killed and Hoffmann’s wife Mischa was seriously injured. Nevertheless, just two days after his arrival, Hoffmann conducted his first opera performance—Dalayrac’s Das schwarze Schloss (Léon ou Le Château de Montenero; Paris, 1798).12 For the next nine months, until March of the following year, he would conduct several performances weekly unless rehearsals and concerts were cancelled due to military activity. The repertoire included German, French, and Italian works, and the composers performed most frequently were Luigi Cherubini, Étienne Nicolas Méhul, Mozart, and Ferdinando Paer.13 On the whole, Hoffmann had found the Leipzig company just as Rochlitz had described it: Seconda was in fact ‘ein lieber ehrlicher dummer Mann, der 25 Jahre hindurch die Maschine gedreht hat, wie der Esel die Walkmühle; […] so wie aber das Ding etwas aus dem Geleise kommt, verliert er den Kopf und weiß sich nicht zu helfen’. (‘a dear, honest, stupid man, who throughout twenty-five years has cranked the machinery like a donkey turning a mill. […] But as soon as things go off the track a little, he loses his head and is at his wit’s end’.)14 Hence, with a characteristic lack of foresight, Seconda suddenly declared that he had to close the theater, eventhough the members of the company disagreed with his decision and were still finding ample opportunities in spite of the war. After playing under their own management for a while, Seconda had an unexpected stroke of luck and received permission to play at the Court Theater in

9 Letter to Kunz of 26 April 1813, Briefwechsel, I, pp.377-378. 10 Tagebücher, 19 May 1813, p.206. 11 Tagebücher, pp.203-205; Briefwechsel, I, pp.382-387. 12 Tagebücher, 25 May 1813, p.208. 13 Especially Cherubini’s Der Wasserträger (Les deux journées) and Faniska (eight times each) and Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte (six times). For a complete list see Schnapp, ed., Der Musiker E. T. A. Hoffmann, pp.668-671. 14 Briefwechsel, I, p.393; Selected Letters, pp.192-193. 164 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Dresden; the company was even permitted to use the theater’s props and royal wardrobe, thereby lending their performances far greater splendor. The orchestra was good, although Hoffmann preferred the one in Leipzig with its excellent first violinists. In Dresden, they also had two excellent tenors (Julius Miller and Friedrich Gerstäcker) and a magnificent bass (Ferdinand Pillwitz), and the other singers were fairly proficient in sight- reading, which greatly eased Hoffmann’s task as a conductor. On 2 July, after a successful performance of Paer’s Sargino, he proudly wrote to his friend Friedrich Speyer as well as in his diary that he had conducted this opera at the same place, in the same chair with red upholstery, at the same piano, at which Paer himself had conducted its première.15 The Dresden public actually attended German performances more often than the Italian operas. Although the solo singing of the Italians was superior, as Hoffmann noted, the Germans were better in the choruses and ensembles. The German theater, moreover, presented something new at each performance, while the Italian company’s repertoire was limited to only four or five operas performed on an alternating schedule. The German company was on good terms with the Italians under Paer’s successor Francesco Morlacchi, however, and the two companies courteously provided each other with free admission to their respective performances. Despite the difficulties caused by the war, Hoffmann enjoyed the rich cultural environments that Leipzig and Dresden offered. He especially appreciated the friendly and respectful attitude of the orchestra members, which stood in stark contrast to his experiences in Bamberg. Härtel and Rochlitz treated him like an old friend and the audience seemed to welcome his efforts. To Speyer he explained that all of the obstacles and antagonism in Bamberg that had thwarted his ambitions and efforts to rise above ordinary life had led to an inner war, which had done him far greater harm than the external, physical war had.

Eine größere Antipolarität in wissenschaftlicher und künstlerischer Hinsicht als Bamberg und Leipzig kann es wohl in der Welt nicht geben. Ja ich möchte sagen: ist es in Bamberg des Guten zu wenig, so ist es in Leipzig beynahe des Guten zu viel. Aber so viel ist doch gewiß, daß man sich wie ein Fisch im Wasser, im rechten Elemente, froh und frey bewegen kann.

(I don’t suppose that in the arts and sciences a greater difference can exist than between Bamberg and Leipzig. [I would say, what was missing in Bamberg, you

15 Letter of 13 July 1813, Briefwechsel, I, p.396; Tagebücher, 2 July 1813, p.215. Paer had conducted the première of his Sargino, ossia L’allievo dell’amore at the Dresden court theater on 26 May 1803. Poet and Composer 165

will find in Leipzig in overabundance. FM] But this much is certain: one can move about freely and happily here, like a fish in water, in the right element.)16

Indeed, Hoffmann must have felt in his element, visiting Dresden’s famous Picture Gallery, Dreyssig’s Singakademie,17 and meeting authors such as Friedrich Laun, Theodor Hell, and Friedrich Kind in the evenings.18 He enthusiastically wrote to his publisher Kunz: ‘Sie bemerken, daß ich mich in den schönen Künsten rege und bewege, und werde ich nicht morgen oder übermorgen durch eine preuß[ische] oesterr[eichische] oder russische Granate in die Luft gesprengt, so werden Sie mich genährt ja gemästet von KunstGenüssen aller Art wieder finden!’ (‘You see that I hustle and bustle in the fine arts, and, unless I’m blown up tomorrow or the day after by a Prussian, Austrian, or Russian grenade, you will find me nourished, nay, fattened by all kinds of art appreciation!’)19 The nurturing influence of the culture and art surrounding him also seemed to have stimulated his own creative production. In addition to his conducting duties, he began working intently on composing his opera Undine and continued to contribute articles and reviews to the AMZ.20 Two lengthy essays, Der Dichter und der Komponist (The Poet and the Composer, December 1813) and Alte und neue Kirchenmusik (Old and New Church Music, July 1814) also date from this period. Both essays are generally viewed as being Hoffmann’s most significant theoretical contributions on opera and church music, respectively. Other contributions to the AMZ included: Nachricht von einem gebildeten jungen Mann (Report of an Educated Young Man), a humorous essay offering a reverse image of Kreisler’s Sufferings (1814); Der Musikfeind (The Music-Hater, 1814); Über einen Ausspruch Sachini’s und über den sogenannten Effect in der Musik (On a Remark of Sacchini’s,

16 Briefwechsel, I, p.397; Selected Letters, p.195. 17 A choral society founded by Johann Anton Dreyssig (1774-1815) in 1807, following the example of the Berliner Singakademie. Carl Maria von Weber paid tribute to the institution in an article in the Zeitung für die elegante Welt no. 198 (3 October 1812), 1581-1582, reprinted as ‘Über die von Anton Dreyßig gestiftete Sing-Akademie zu Dresden’, in Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, pp.29-31. 18 Letter to Kunz of 8 September 1813, Briefwechsel, I, p.414. Friedrich Laun was the pseudonym of Friedrich August Schulze (1770-1849), Theodor Hell of Karl Gottfried Theodor Winkler (1775-1856); together with Johann Friedrich Kind (1768- 1843), they were members of the Dresdner Liederkreis (see Chapter Seven). 19 Briefwechsel, I, p.415; Selected Letters, p.206. 20 Most noteworthy are the reviews of symphonies by Johann Wilhelm Wilms (1772- 1847) and Carl Anton Philipp Braun (1788-1835), Beethoven’s Mass in C major, Beethoven’s Overture and Incidental Music to Goethe’s Egmont, and Johann Friedrich Reichardt’s Grande Sonate pour le Pianoforte in F minor. 166 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera and on So-called Effect in Music, 1814); and a shortened version of Die Automate (1814).21 Hoffmann’s experiences with the theaters in Bamberg, Dresden, and Leipzig informed not only many of these contributions but also his only dramatic piece, Prinzessin Blandina, of which he completed only the first act.22 While this theatrical experiment was in large part inspired by the fiabe (fairy tales) of the Venetian playwright Carlo Gozzi (1720-1806), Miguel de Cervantes’ novella El coloquio de los perros (The Conversation of the Dogs) provided the formative influence for Hoffmann’s first long-form literary prose work, Nachricht von den neuesten Schicksalen des Hundes Berganza (A Report on the Latest Adventures of the Dog Berganza).23 Besides his fascination with Italian and Spanish baroque literature that he shared with the Romantics, their shared interest in animal magnetism, somnambulism, dreams, and the mystic entanglement of body, mind, and universe also found its way into a narrative work that he composed during this period, entitled Der Magnetiseur (The Mesmerist).24 Hoffmann began writing just one day before his unfortunate trip from Dresden to Leipzig in May, but worked quickly and sent the last section to Kunz on 19 August. With Berganza, Der Magnetiseur formed the second volume of the Fantasiestücke. In his accompanying letter, Hoffmann outlined the storyline of another fairy tale he had in mind as a continuation to the Fantasiestücke. Calling this his best work ever within a month after he began writing, and everything else being ‘dead’ and ‘stiff’ in comparison,25 the tale, entitled Der goldne Topf (The Golden Pot), would appear

21 Hoffmann would include the first three essays as nos. 4-6 in the second part of ‘Kreisleriana’ in the Fantasiestücke in Callot’s Manier. 22 First published also in the second part of Kreisleriana, but omitted in the second edition of the Fantasiestücke in 1819. 23 Begun while he was still in Bamberg (February 1813), Hoffmann must have completed it over the following months, and proposed to Kunz that he include it in the second volume of the Fantasiestücke (Letter of 26 July 1813, Briefwechsel, I, pp.403- 404). 24 Hoffmann studied various popular works of the time concerning such irrational tendencies, such as Friedrich Wilhelm Joseph von Schelling’s Von der Weltseele (1798), Gotthilf Heinrich von Schubert’s Ansichten von der Nachtseite der Naturwissenschaft (1808), and Karl Alexander Ferdinand Kluge’s Versuch einer Darstellung des animalischen Magnetismus als Heilmittel (1811). His friendship with the medical doctors Adalbert Friedrich Marcus (director of the mental hospital in Bamberg) and Friedrich Speyer also broadened Hoffmann’s knowledge in the field. He even asked Speyer for his opinion on the medical aspects of Der Magnetiseur. (Letters to Speyer of 13 July and to Kunz of 20 July 1813; Briefwechsel, I, pp.398, 401; for his studies of Schelling and Schubert around this time, Briefwechsel, I, pp.403, 405, 407, 409 and his knowledge of Kluge’s theories, Briefwechsel, I, p.430.) 25 Letters to Kunz of 19 August & 8 September 1813, Briefwechsel, I, pp.408, 413, 414. Poet and Composer 167 in 1814 as the third volume of the Fantasiestücke. On the same day that Hoffmann sent this tale to Kunz, he began writing his first novel, Die Elixiere des Teufels (The Devil’s Elixirs).26 While Hoffmann had ‘become somewhat of an author’, as he described himself to Hitzig,27 the war raged on, and he lamented how the ‘detested French’ had ravaged the city: ‘Wie die Spizbuben das herrliche Dresden auf wirklich sinnreiche Weise verwüstet und ruinirt haben, davon haben Sie keine Idee’. (‘You have no idea how those bandits devastated and ruined our magnificent Dresden in the most deliberate manner’.)28 Hoffmann was an eyewitness to the Battle of Dresden, which was fought on 26 and 27 August 1813 between Napoleon and Sixth Coalition forces; he later reported in a letter to Kunz how the citizens had been deprived of solid food and typhus had plagued the city, although he and his wife had been miraculously spared. Corpses piled up in the cemetery at Neustadt while French soldiers died miserably in the streets.29 After combat ended, Hoffmann visited the battlefield. His brief diary reports of 29 and 30 August noting the smashed corpses on the battlefield and his glimpse of the tyrant (Napoleon) were worked out in an essay Vision auf dem Schlachtfeld bei Dresden (Vision on the Battlefield of Dresden, 1814).30 The Vision offers a nightmarish depiction of the destructive power of the bloody tyrant until a drake grasps him, digging its claws deeper and deeper into his chest. The voice of universal omnipotence echoes in the ears of the narrator, who suddenly envisions a transfiguration of the heavenly twins Czar Alexander and Friedrich Wilhelm. This would not be the last time that Hoffmann would vent his hatred of Napoleon, but this essay provides the most graphic and gruesome descriptions of the carnage he witnessed. Unexpectedly, on 26 February 1814, Hoffmann was dismissed by Seconda—the consequence of a quarrel they had had the day before.31

26 Tagebücher, 5 March 1814, p.248. 27 Letter of 1 December 1813, Briefwechsel, I, p.424; Selected Letters, p.213. 28 Briefwechsel, I, p.424; Selected Letters, p.213. 29 Letter of 17 November 1813, Briefwechsel, I, p.418. 30 ‘scheußlicher Anblick – Leichen mit zerschmetterten Köpfen und Leibern’ (‘a terrible sight – corpses with smashed heads and bodies’); ‘dem Kaiser begegnet mit einem furchtbaren Tyrannenblick’ (‘I’ve seen the Emperor [Napoleon] with his direful tyrant-look in his eyes’). Tagebücher, pp.221, 222. Kunz published the essay Vision as an anonymous pamphlet without Hoffmann’s consent. 31 ‘Heute hat mir Seconda die Stelle aufgekündigt […] m[e]i[ne] ganze Carriere ändert sich abermahls!! Den Muth ganz sink[en] lassen’ (‘Today Seconda gave me notice […] My career will change entirely once more!! I lost all hope –’). Tagebücher, 26 February 1814, p.248. 168 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Although Hoffmann had just been invited to assume the post of music director in Königsberg, he rejected the offer because of the poor quality and financial troubles of the ensemble.32 In need of money, he began drawing anti-Napoleonic caricatures.33 Rochlitz also stepped in and provided him with more reviewing requests for the AMZ. Hoffmann turned to other journals as well, and soon became a contributor to the Zeitung für die elegante Welt and to Cotta’s Morgenblatt für gebildete Stände.34 The direct influence of the war can be seen in only a few of Hoffmann’s works from his prodigious output during his time in Leipzig and Dresden, namely in the Vision and the caricatures, but it also found its way into his dialogue Der Dichter und der Komponist, published in the AMZ in Decemer 1813.

The Dialogue Der Dichter und der Komponist (The Poet and the Composer)

As the dialogue’s title indicates, a poet and a composer (here, Ferdinand and Ludwig), discuss the true nature of opera and operatic texts, and whether or not libretto and music can be composed by a single person. Hoffmann intended to write an essay on these topics during his stay in Bamberg. When the editors of the AMZ approached Hoffmann in mid-June 1809 to inquire whether he would be willing to review Beethoven’s fifth and sixth symphonies, Hoffmann not only agreed to take on the task, but also asked in return whether the editors would be interested in publishing an essay ‘über die Forderungen, die der Componist an den Dichter einer Oper mit Recht macht [...] Manches über die jetzige ausgeartete Form der Oper so wie über die Bedingnisse des wahren OpernSujets und die Behandlung desselben von Seiten des Dichters und des Comp[onisten] würde darinn vorkommen […]’. (‘that treats the justifiable demands a composer might

32 22 February 1814, Tagebücher, p.247. 33 Tagebücher, 5-9, 14-16 & 19-27 March and 14-15 April 1814, pp.248-250, 252. The first caricature, Die Exorcisten, shows how the devil (Napoleon) is driven out of Lady Gallia by the allied forces; the second again features Lady Gallia, who pays her doctor’s bill after being cured; on the third, entitled The Exequies of the Universal Monarchy, Hoffmann drew himself, offering a fainting Napoleon ‘un peu de sel’. Color plates of the three caricatures in Klaus Günzel, E. T. A. Hoffmann. Leben und Werk in Briefen, Selbstzeugnissen und Zeitdokumenten (Berlin: Verlag der Nation, 1984) between pp.256 and 257. 34 Tagebücher, 7 & 16 March 1814, pp.249, 250 and the letter to Hitzig of 8 June 1814, Briefwechsel, I, p.469. Poet and Composer 169 make on the librettist? The article would contain much about the present, degenerate form of the opera and also about the prerequisites for real operatic material and its treatment by the poet and by the composer’.)35 It would take four more years, however, before he actually put his ideas in writing—between 19 September and 9 October 1813, while he was composing Acts I and II of his ‘Zauberoper’ Undine. This was also the period following the Battle of Dresden but prior to Napoleon’s defeat at the Battle of Nations at Leipzig on 18 October. Hoffmann incorporated his war impressions as a framework to the dialogue, as he pointed out in his accompanying letter to the AMZ: ‘Schon der lezten Zeit gelang es mir einen Aufsatz, den ich längst Hrn. H[of]R[ath] Rochlitz versprochen zu endigen; die Einkleidung, welche die Spur der Zeitverhältnisse trägt und die tröstenden Schlußworte die ich dem Dichter in den Mund gelegt, dürften wohl ein größeres Interresse gewähren, als wenn ich dem Ganzen die Form einer troknen Abhandlung gegeben’. (‘Just recently I succeeded in finishing an article I had promised Herr Rochlitz; the setting carries traces of our times, and the comforting final words of the poet probably afford greater interest than would have been the case if I had written the article in the form of a dry dissertation’.)36 Most scholarship dedicated to the essay has considered the framework to be an embellishment to the dialogue, which itself has been interpreted as Hoffmann’s credo on Romantic opera, with the composer Ludwig voicing Hoffmann’s own views.37 More recent studies, however, emphasize the

35 Letter of 1 July 1809, Briefwechsel, I, p.293; Selected Letters, p.157. 36 Letter of 14 November, 1813, Briefwechsel, I, p.417; Selected Letters, p.207. The essay was published in AMZ 15: 49 & 50 (8 & 15 December 1813), cols 793-806 & 809- 817. 37 See, among others, Hilda Meldrum Brown: ‘“Der Dichter und Der Komponist”: Text and Music’, E. T. A. Hoffmann and the Serapiontic Principle: Critique and Creativity (Rochester, New York: Camden House, 2006), pp.57-71; Charlton, pp.169-187; Carl Dahlhaus, ‘Die romantische Oper als Idee und als Gattung’, Jahrbuch der Akademie der Wissenschaften in Göttingen (1983), 52-64; Aubrey S. Garlington Jr., ‘E. T. A. Hoffmann’s “Der Dichter und der Komponist” and the Creation of the German Romantic Opera’, The Musical Quarterly, 65: 1 (January 1979), 22-47; Lothar Pikulik, ‘Der Dichter und der Komponist’, E. T. A. Hoffmann als Erzähler. Ein Kommentar zu den ‘Serapions-Brüdern’ (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1987), pp.74-78; Maurice M. Raraty, ‘Wer war Rohrmann? Der Dichter und der Komponist’, Mitteilungen der E. T. A. Hoffmann-Gesellschaft 18 (1972), 9-16; Judith Rohr, ‘Wenn Sprache und Handlung Musik werden. E. T. A. Hoffmanns Begriff der “romantischen Oper”’, in Festschrift Hans Conradin: Zum 70. Geburtstag, ed. by Volker Kalisch, Ernst Meier and others (Bern: Haupt, 1983), pp.61-69; Ulrich Weisstein, ‘Was ist die romantische Oper? Versuch einer musiko-literarischen Begriffs-

170 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera narrative qualities of the text,38 and Hartmut Steinecke even goes so far as to state that it is completely one-sided and thus wrong to draw conclusions about Hoffmann’s ideas on opera aesthetics from the dialogue.39 As many of the views voiced in the dialogue return in Hoffmann’s opera reviews, Steinecke’s standpoint seems equally one-sided. We will first turn to the framework story, which combines the dialogue’s conception period in 1809 with the events in Dresden in 1813 in an interesting way.

Fictional Frame

The beginning of the text draws its reader immediately into the dramatic events of the Battle of Dresden, as described by Hoffmann in his letters: ‘Der Feind war vor den Toren, das Geschütz donnerte rings umher, und feuersprühende Granaten durchschnitten zischend die Luft’. (‘The enemy was at the gates, guns thundered all around, and grenades sizzled through the air amid showers of sparks. The townfolk, their faces white with fear, ran into their houses […]’.)40 Since Hoffmann gave no further details as to the time or place of these events, this war scene could have taken place anywhere, thus giving it a more general and timeless character. Hoffmann, who produced his musical as well as literary masterpieces amid such war scenes, almost seems to parody himself as he continues his story: ‘Nur Ludwig saß in seinem Hinterstübchen, ganz vertieft und versunken in die herrliche, bunte, phantastische Welt, die ihm vor dem Flügel aufgegangen [...]’. (‘But Ludwig sat in his little back room, completely absorbed and lost in the wonderful, brightly coloured world of fantasy that unfolded before him at the piano’.)41

bestimmung’, in Einheit in der Vielfalt. Festschrift für Peter Lang zum 60. Geburtstag, ed. by Gisela Quast (Bern: Lang, 1988), pp.568-588. 38 Georg Wellenberger, for example, concentrates almost exclusively on the framework, thus neglecting aspects of music aesthetics: Wellenberger, Der Unernst des Unendlichen. Die Poetologie der Romantik und ihre Umsetzung durch E. T. A. Hoffmann (Marburg: Hitzeroth, 1986), pp.105-126. 39 Hartmut Steinecke, Steven P[aul] Scher, and others, ‘Der Dichter und der Komponist. “Undine” von Fouqué und Hoffmann’, in Der Text im musikalischen Werk. Editionsprobleme aus musikwissenschaftlicher und literaturwissenschaftlicher Sicht, ed. by Walther Dürr, Helga Lühning, and others (Berlin: Schmidt, 1998), pp.235-260 (p.238). 40 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.752; Charlton, pp.189-190. 41 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.752; Charlton, p.190. Poet and Composer 171

Ludwig, however, writes neither a fairy tale, review, nor opera, but, rather, a symphony:

[…] er hatte so eben eine Symphonie vollendet, in der er alles das, was in seinem Innersten erklungen, in sichtbarlichen Noten festzuhalten gestrebt, und es sollte das Werk, wie Beethovens Kompositionen der Art, in göttlicher Sprache von den herrlichen Wundern des fernen, romantischen Landes reden, in dem wir in unaussprechlicher Sehnsucht untergehend leben; ja, es sollte selbst wie eines jener Wunder in das beengte, dürftige Leben treten, und mit holden Syrenenstimmen die sich willig Hingebenden hinauslocken.

(He had just completed a symphony, in which he had striven to capture in written notation all the resonances of his innermost soul; the work sought, like Beethoven’s compositions of that type, to speak in heavenly language of the glorious wonders of that far, romantic realm in which we swoon away in inexpressible yearning; indeed it sought, like one of those wonders, itself to penetrate our narrow, paltry lives, and with sublime siren voices tempt forth its willing victims.)42

One is immediately reminded of the marvelous effect of Beethoven’s symphonic music, as described in Hoffmann’s review of the Fifth Symphony, that had appeared on 4 July 1810 in the AMZ. Ludwig’s scene resembles a staging of essential insights from the review: ‘Die Musik schließt dem Menschen ein unbekanntes Reich auf; eine Welt, die nichts gemein hat mit der äußern Sinnenwelt, die ihn umgibt, und in der er alle durch Begriffe bestimmbaren Gefühle zurückläßt, um sich dem Unaussprechlichen hinzugeben’. (‘Music reveals to man an unknown realm, a world quite separate from the outer sensual world surrounding him, a world in which he leaves behind all feelings circumscribed by intellect in order to embrace the inexpressible’.)43 Accordingly, Ludwig doesn’t notice the thundering gunfire, nor the shells whistling past his window. Only when a shell crashed into the roof and shattered the windowpanes, does he retreat to the basement, rescuing ‘sein Liebstes, was er nun besaß, nämlich die Partitur der Symphonie’ (‘the dearest thing he now possessed, the score of his symphony’).44 At first Hoffmann, ironically, seems to confront two completely opposing worlds: a symphony, conveying impressions in heavenly sounds from a faraway, romantic realm, and a destructive war, shattering everything of value, animate and inanimate alike. This is also how Ludwig feels when

42 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.752; Charlton, p.190. 43 Schriften zur Musik, p.34; Charlton, p.236. 44 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.752; Charlton, p.190. 172 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera he utters, in the closing lines of the framework story: ‘Was soll aus der Kunst werden in dieser rauhen, stürmischen Zeit? Wird sie nicht, wie eine zarte Pflanze, die vergebens ihr welkes Haupt nach den finstern Wolken wendet, hinter denen die Sonne verschwand, dahinsterben?’ (‘What is to become of art in our harsh and turbulent times? Will it not perish, like a delicate plant that turns its drooping head in vain towards the dark storm- clouds behind which the sun has vanished?’) As if recalling the horrors of the battlefield, as evoked by Hoffmann in his Vision, Ludwig continues:

Alles Bessere geht unter in dem reißenden Strom, der die Felder verheerend dahinstürzt; aus seinen schwarzen Wellen blicken blutige Leichname hervor, und in dem Grausen, das uns ergreift, gleiten wir aus – wir haben keine Stütze – unser Angstgeschrei verhallt in der öden Luft – Opfer der unbezähmbaren Wut sinken wir rettungslos hinab!

(Every nobler impulse is engulfed by the seething torrent ravaging our landscape in its headlong course; bloody corpses stare forth from its black waves, and in the tide of horror washing over us we lose our footing – we have no handhold – our cry of anguish is lost in the desolate air – victims of implacable fury we sink down helplessly!)45

It is his dialogue partner, the poet Ferdinand, who understands the significance of the otherwise-incomprehensible bloodshed: Ordinary life had made man languid and insensitive to higher and eternal values. It took a war to awaken mankind to its true course, and raise a new awareness that only strength born out of struggle can lead to the divine. This insight is essential in experiencing what it means to be a human being. Comparable to the ‘eerie gloom of ancient legends’, Ferdinand asserts, we hear again ‘die Stimme der ewig waltenden Macht – ja sichtbarlich in unser Leben schreitend erweckt sie in uns den Glauben, dem sich das Geheimnis unseres Seins erschließt’. (‘the unmistakable voice of eternal omnipotence; bursting visibly into our lives it awakens in us the faith by which the mystery of our existence is revealed’.)46 The transformative influence of war had already been demonstrated at the very beginning of the framework story. The mortal dangers caused by the war had inspired a remarkable societal shift; the tightfisted wine-seller had suddenly opened a few dozen bottles of his best wine for those seeking shelter in the cellar, and tenants ‘die, sich auf der Treppe begegnend, kaum den Hut gerückt, saßen Hand in Hand beieinander, ihr Innerstes in wechselseitiger, herzlicher Teilnahme aufschließend’. (‘who scarcely raised their hats when meeting on the stairs

45 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, pp.773-774; Charlton, p.207. 46 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.774; Charlton, p.208. Poet and Composer 173 sat arm in arm beside each other, revealing their innermost feelings in mutual warmheartedness’.)47 The war not only offers cruelty but also awakens the best in people, who suddenly rise above the quarrels and trivialities of everyday life. This uplifting quality is characteristic of art as well. The analogy between the narrative framework and the dialogue’s subject goes further, however: For struggle, heroic deeds, and the ‘irresistible beat of fate’s iron fist’ are not typical merely of war, but are also essential to the operatic stage. Ludwig’s dialogue partner Ferdinand further illuminates this aspect. In a quiet coffeehouse, Ludwig unexpectedly runs into his beloved old friend, the poet Ferdinand. Here Hoffmann weaves in another autobiographical experience that had happened to him just after his arrival in Dresden. In serious financial difficulties, without proper accomodation, and searching in vain for Seconda, he had suddenly run into his old friend from his student days, Theodor Gottlieb von Hippel, councillor in the office of Prussian State Chancellor Karl August von Hardenberg. In the fictional frame, this good friend is now a poet although he has changed considerably: ‘Der sanfte Sohn der Musen, der Dichter manches romantischen Liedes, das Ludwig in Klang und Ton gekleidet hatte, stand vor ihm im hohen Helmbusch, den gewaltigen, klirrenden Säbel an der Seite, und verleugnete selbst seine Stimme im harten, rauhen Ton aufjauchzend!’ (‘The gentle son of the muses, the poet of numerous romantic lyrics which Ludwig had clothed with melody and harmony, now stood before him in a plumed helmet, a great, rattling sabre at his side, even profaning his voice with the harsh cry of greeting’.)48 Ludwig notices other changes, such as his friend’s wounded arm and the medal pinned to his breast. His entire appearance, including wound and medal, points to courageous struggle and heroic deeds. Ferdinand also explains the ‘noble cause’ of his transformation:

Das Vaterland rief mich, und ich durfte nicht zögern, dem Rufe zu folgen. […] Aber glaube mir, Ludwig! die Saiten, die so oft in meinem Innern erklungen, und deren Töne so oft zu dir gesprochen, sind noch unverletzt; ja, nach grausamer, blutiger Schlacht, auf einsamen Posten […] da dichtete ich in hoher Begeisterung manches Lied, das in meinem herrlichen Beruf, zu streiten für Ehre und Freiheit, mich erhob und stärkte.

(My country needed me, and I could not hesitate to follow the call. […] But believe me, Ludwig! The strings vibrating in my soul, whose notes so often spoke to you, are still unharmed. In fact, even after the horror of bloody battle, on lonely guard duty […] I would pour my inspiration into poems which uplifted

47 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.753; Charlton, p.190. 48 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.755; Charlton, p.192. 174 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

and strengthened me in my glorious vocation to fight for freedom and honour.)49

His poetry and fighting were therefore both inspired by love for his country, and served the high cause of liberating it. The spirit of the Wars of Liberation, which resonates in these lines, is absent from the discussion that follows.50 More important, it seems, is the function of this narrative framework, which sets the stage for the subsequent dialogue on the true nature of opera: Not ordinary life, but heroic deeds in the face of a merciless fate bring forth the sounds of opera.

Dramatic Modes

Ferdinand was greatly surprised to hear that Ludwig had still not composed and produced an opera, due solely to the fact that he still had not been able to find a suitable libretto, one that was inspiring in both subject-matter and treatment. Ferdinand’s suggestion that he write a libretto himself was rejected by Ludwig, since composers could not be expected to master the technical skills required for writing proper verse. Ludwig countered his friend’s question by asking why Ferdinand had never written a libretto for him. Now it was Ferdinand’s turn to reject this idea, since he considered writing librettos to be ‘die undankbarste Arbeit von der Welt’ (‘the most thankless task in the world’).51 No one could be more stubborn than composers in their demands. While they might not be expected to develop the skills of versification, poets could hardly be burdened with the task of observing musical structures such as trios, quartets, and finali.52 Composers, moreover, tended to abuse the most beautiful verse and drown it in their

49 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.755; Charlton, p.192. For readers of that era, this passage would have called to mind the work of Theodor Körner (1791-1813), the German poet and soldier who joined the Lützow Freikorps and died in combat during the Wars of Liberation. In particular, his posthumously-published collection of war songs, Leyer und Schwerdt (1814), achieved great popularity (see also Chapter Seven). 50 Stephen Rumph, on the other hand, maintains that in Der Dichter und der Komponist, ‘Hoffmann spelled out the connection between artistic and political aims’. His interpretation, based solely on the framework story, sees the union of the operatic arts (symbolized by Ludwig and Ferdinand) as being intertwined with the ideal of patriotic unity. He disregards the discussion of the dialogue proper, however, which is partly of a technical nature, and moreover advocates foreign models (see further below). Rumph, Beethoven after Napoleon, p.13. 51 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.758; Charlton, p.194. 52 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.758. Poet and Composer 175 music. Ludwig calms his friend by explaining that no musical knowledge or training is needed to select the most appropriate subject for opera. Both poet and composer take their language from ‘that faraway realm’, whence mysterious voices echo down and awaken the dormant sounds in our breast. Therefore, poets and musicians are ‘die innigstverwandten Glieder einer Kirche: denn das Geheimnis des Worts und des Tons ist ein und dasselbe, das ihnen die höchste Weihe erschlossen’. (‘closely kindred members of one church; for the secret of words and sounds is one and the same, unveiling to both the ultimate sublimity’.)53 Ferdinand is clearly surprised by Ludwig’s statements, wondering whether his friend is making a case exclusively for Romantic opera with its fairies, spirits, miracles, and transformations. Ludwig, affirming this assumption, summarizes again his opinion on the true essence of opera:

[…] in der Oper soll die Einwirkung höherer Naturen auf uns sichtbarlich geschehen, und so vor unsern Augen sich ein romantisches Sein erschließen, in dem auch die Sprache höher potenziert, oder vielmehr jenem fernen Reiche entnommen, d. h. Musik – Gesang ist, ja wo selbst Handlung und Situation in mächtigen Tönen und Klängen schwebend, uns gewaltiger ergreift und hinreißt.

([…] In opera the influence of higher natures on us should be seen to take place. Then a romantic dimension reveals itself before our eyes in which language is raised to a higher power, or rather (since it is part of that distant realm of music) takes the form of song. Then even action and situation, carried forward by irresistible sonorities, seize and transport us more potently.)54

As the exemplary poet in this regard, Ludwig praises Carlo Gozzi and illustrates his points by recounting Gozzi’s fiaba Il corvo (Milan, 1761).55

53 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.759; Charlton, p.195. 54 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.761; Charlton, p.197. 55 As early as the eighteenth century, Gozzi was an admired dramatist in Germany. August Clemens Werthes provided a German translation of Gozzi’s works in five volumes (1777-1779). Lessing and Goethe were attracted to Gozzi’s dramas, and stage directors such as Friedrich Ludwig Schröder and Friedrich Wilhelm Gotter introduced them on the German stage. In 1802, Schiller staged his version of Turandot in Weimar. The Romantics, especially, admired Gozzi’s fantastic imagination and found in him a kindred spirit in their dislike of classicist rules and efforts to preserve folk culture. (Hedwig Hoffmann Rusack, Gozzi in Germany. A survey of the rise and decline of the Gozzi vogue in Germany and Austria. With especial reference to the German Romanticists (New York: Columbia University Press, 1930). Hoffmann’s friend Julius Eduard Hitzig published a three-volume Italian edition of Gozzi’s fiabe (Le dieci fiabe teatrali del conte Carlo Gozzi) in 1808. In a letter to Hitzig (25 May 1809), Hoffmann notes: ‘[…] den Gozzi muß ich haben […]’, inquiring as to the easiest way to obtain the volumes. (Briefwechsel, I, p.285.) Another of Hoffmann’s close

176 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Ferdinand completely agrees with his friend, and both consider the conflict with the spirit world to be at the heart of Gozzi’s dramatic fairy tale.56 And from this conflict, Ludwig adds, emerge Jennaro’s heroic self-sacrifice and Armilla’s noble deed, containing a greatness ‘von der unsere moralischen Schauspieldichter, in den Armseligkeiten des alltäglichen Lebens, wie in dem Auskehrigt [...] wühlend, gar keine Idee haben’. (‘of which our moralising playwrights, grubbing among the trivialities of everyday life […] have no conception’.)57 Ludwig also admires the way the comic masks (improvising actors of the commedia dell’arte) were woven in, whereupon Ferdinand remarks that only in a truly Romantic work can the comic and tragic merge so smoothly into a strong overall effect. This brings the discussion necessarily to other dramatic modes found in opera, and Ferdinand assumes that Ludwig probably rejects tragic as well as comic opera. This, however, is far from being the case. The true heroism of Romantic opera Ludwig also considers essential to tragic opera. Neither the fantastic, however, nor the spirit realm becomes entangled with the human world here rather, a higher power does. Ludwig explains how the dark, mysterious forces governing gods and men unfold before the spectator’s eyes, which witness how the eternal, immutable will of Providence is proclaimed in cryptic and foreboding tones.58 Musical tragedies, he continues, have inspired composers of genius to a near-sacred style, transporting men into the realm of light where the secret of their own existence is revealed. Ferdinand repeats this insight almost word for word at the end of the dialogue, when he tries to give meaning to the horrors of war. These bear witness to the unmistakable voice of eternal omnipotence (‘Stimme der ewig waltenden Macht’), awakening in us ‘the faith by which the mystery of our existence is revealed’.59 Although the impact of war and tragedy are therefore comparable, tragedy stands closer to the divine, and Ludwig points out the ‘intimate kinship’ between tragic opera and church music, an insight that unfortunately had been lost among recent composers.

acquaintances, Gottlob Heinrich Adolph Wagner (1774-1835; uncle of Richard Wagner) published a German translation of Il corvo with Breitkopf & Härtel in 1804. Rusack, Gozzi in Germany, p.74; Allgemeine Literatur-Zeitung no. 39 (14 February 1806), cols 308-310. 56 ‘[…] die Geister schreiten hinein in das Leben, und verstricken den Menschen in das wunderbare, geheimnisvolle Verhängnis, das über sie waltet’. (‘The spirits emerge into the world and enmesh men in the mysterious fate that governs their own movements’.) Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.765; Charlton, p.199. 57 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.765; Charlton, p.200. 58 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.766. 59 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.774; Charlton, p.208. Poet and Composer 177

Besides the incomparable Gluck, one could think of the Priests of the Night chorus in Niccolò Piccinni’s Didon (1783) as exemplifying this sacred style. The third dramatic mode of opera, which Ludwig values highly, is Italian opera buffa: ‘Hier ist es nun das Phantastische, das zum Teil aus dem abenteuerlichen Schwunge einzelner Charaktere, zum Teil aus dem bizarren Spiel des Zufalls entsteht, und das keck in das Alltagsleben hineinfährt und alles zu oberst und unterst dreht’. (‘Here a sense of the fantastic, arising partly from the eccentric folly of individual characters and partly from the bizarre fluctuation of fortune, boldly invades everyday life and turns everything topsy-turvy’.)60 Ludwig finds inimitable the way in which Italian comedians bring the fantastic into play in everyday situations. Neither omnipotent power nor heroic actions belong to this realm, but ordinary people, who by chance become entrapped in a string of fantastic events. The librettist, as Ferdinand immediately understands, should therefore take the characters straight from everyday life. As a model for this type of opera, Ludwig mentions Mozart’s Così fan tutte, but he considers Le Nozze di Figaro to be a play with songs rather than a true opera. He rejects out of hand operas such as Joseph Weigl’s Das Waisenhaus (The Orphanage; Vienna, 1808) and Adalbert Gyrowetz’s Der Augenarzt (The Oculist; Vienna, 1811), as well as Ditter von Dittersdorf’s Singspiele. On the other hand, he would like to defend Wenzel Müller’s Das Sonntagskind (Sunday’s Child, 1793) or Die Schwestern von Prag (The Sisters from Prague, 1794) as being genuinely German opere buffe. These statements by the composer Ludwig coincide with Hoffmann’s own judgments as far as these can be gleaned from his opera reviews. In the dialogue, however, Ludwig the composer, does not go beyond naming his preferences or disapproving specific operas, nor does he offer any explanatory remarks. Ferdinand the poet, for his part, also fails to ask precise and clarifying questions. As a result, there has been much speculation about these two roles in the secondary literature.

Poet and/or Composer?

The question of a possible unity between poet and composer discussed by Ludwig and Ferdinand at the beginning of their exchange on opera gained in importance through the dialogue’s new context in Die Serapionsbrüder, where it was introduced by a conversation between the Serapion ‘brothers’: Theodor, the composer, reproaches the others (who are poets) for still not

60 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.768; Charlton, p.202. 178 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera having written a suitable libretto for him. When Lothar suggests that he could write one for himself, Theodor replies that this would be impossible. By way of illustration, he then reads the dialogue Der Dichter und der Komponist to his ‘brothers’. Afterwards, however, Lothar is still not convinced.61 As we have seen, most interpreters view the composer Ludwig as being Hoffmann’s alter ego;62 Steven Paul Scher sees the conversation between poet and composer as being monologues in disguise.63 Wellenberger believes the dialogue to be a staging of Hoffmann’s poetic principles, referring to his narrative works rather than to opera,64 while Charlton sees, behind the dialogue, a dramatization of the creative process in which Ludwig, acting as an allegory of music and speaking with great enthusiasm, casts an increasingly powerful spell over Ferdinand, who initially utters heavy and dull phrases and is clearly acting as an allegory of words.65 John Daverio also reads the dialogue as an allegory; however, in his view the two allegorical figures are clearly questioning the idea of unity of word and tone.66 As to whether poet and composer could or should be one and the same person, opinions are mixed. Raraty and Brown are convinced that the dialogue rejects this idea, but Weisstein believes that Ludwig welcomes a single identity of poet and composer, and Garlington joins him in this view by asserting that Hoffmann himself had effectively written the libretto to Undine.67 Hartmut Steinecke, however, warns against such an autobiographical approach, insisting that while the fictional text argued for a separation of the tasks, it did not concern itself with Hoffmann’s cooperation with his librettist.68 According to Scher, the dialogue does not take a clear stance on the discussion.69 What the dialogue does show, as I will argue here, is that the question is in fact beside the point.

61 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, IV: Die Serapions-Brüder, ed. by Wulf Segebrecht and Ursula Segebrecht (2001), p.119. 62 E.g. Weisstein, ‘Was ist die romantische Oper?’, p.574; Garlington Jr., ‘E. T. A. Hoffmann’s “Der Dichter und der Komponist”’, p.31. 63 Steinecke, Scher, and others, ‘Der Dichter und der Komponist’, p.245. 64 Wellenberger, Der Unernst des Unendlichen, p.105. 65 Charlton, p.173. 66 John Daverio, ‘E. T. A. Hoffmann’s Allegory of Romantic Opera’, in The Varieties of Musicology: Essays in Honor of Murray Lefkowitz, ed. by John Daverio and John Ogasapian (Warren, Michigan: Harmonie Park Press, 2000), pp.125-134 (p.129). 67 Raraty, ‘Wer war Rohrman?’, p.13; Brown, ‘“Der Dichter und der Komponist”’, p.67; Weisstein, ‘Was ist die romantische Oper?’, p.574; Garlington Jr., ‘E. T. A. Hoffmann’s “Der Dichter und der Komponist”’, p.41. 68 Steinecke, Scher, and others, ‘Der Dichter und der Komponist’, pp.238, 239. 69 Steinecke, Scher, and others, ‘Der Dichter und der Komponist’, pp.245, 246. Poet and Composer 179

Initially, Ludwig mentions the mechanical skills needed for versification as being the principal hurdle for a single identity of poet and composer. Later he points more generally to the ‘lower region of words’, which would hold back the flight of a composer’s imagination. Towards the end of the dialogue, however, he notes that composers of genius had written highly- inspired music to accompany deplorable verse, citing Die Zauberföte in this regard, which he considered an example of a genuinely Romantic opera. Over the course of the dialogue, the main focus thus shifts from issues of the author’s single or dual identity to the role of the opera’s subject matter. After all, it was the genuinely operatic, Romantic subject matter that had inspired the music to Mozart’s Zauberflöte. The fact that composers not only distort a poet’s text and drown the words in their music but also employ texts which are utterly beneath contempt, were often-heard criticisms at the time. Johann Gottfried Herder, for example, had shown little understanding for modern opera in this regard. In his Adrastea (Volume Two, fourth issue, 1801-02), he noted:

Wo die Oper jetzt stehe, wißen wir; auf dem Kunstgipfel der Tonkunst und Decoration, fast mit Vernachläßigung des Inhalts und der Fabel. Den Operndichter nennet man jetzt kaum; seine Worte, die man auch selten versteht, und die noch seltner des Verstehens werth sind, geben dem Tonkünstler nur Anlaß zu seinen (wie ers nennt) musikalischen Gedanken, dem Decorateur zu seinen Decorationen. Musikalische Gedanken ohne Worte, Decorationen ohne eine verständige Fabel sind freilich sonderbare Dinge; wir denken aber einmal in der Oper rein-musikalisch.

(We know well where opera stands now; at the summit of compositional art and decoration, but with almost no attention given to the content and the story. Nowadays one hardly mentions the librettist. His words, which are seldom understood and even more rarely deserve our understanding, serve only to give the composer an opportunity for what he calls his musical thoughts, and to give the decorator an opportunity for his decorations. Musical thoughts without words, decorations without a sensible plot are obviously oddities, but in opera, one is used to think purely musical.)70

The musician (‘Tonkünstler’) may have profited from this development, but as a ‘tone poet’ (‘Tondichter’), expressing and conveying emotions, he had surely lost from it. Mozart in particular had been criticized in this regard,

70 Herder, Sämtliche Werke, XXIII, p.335. English translation partly in Stephen C. Meyer, Carl Maria von Weber and the Search for a German Opera (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2003), p.6. An extensive review of the section in Adrastea dealing with opera was published in the AMZ 4: 33 & 34 (12 & 19 May 1802), cols 529-535 & 545-553. 180 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera and Herder also bemoans the ‘enchanting’ Mozart, whose music transports us to Heaven, while the actual scenes transpose us to Purgatory, or even lower.71 In the dialogue, Ludwig counters such arguments by explaining that a libretto differs significantly from spoken drama and should thus be judged according to other criteria. What is most important for librettists, he feels, is to ensure that they arrange the scenes in such a way

[…] daß der Stoff sich klar und deutlich vor den Augen des Zuschauers entwickle. Beinahe ohne ein Wort zu verstehen, muß der Zuschauer sich aus dem, was er geschehen sieht, einen Begriff von der Handlung machen können. Kein dramatisches Gedicht hat diese Deutlichkeit so im höchsten Grade nötig, als die Oper, da, ohne dem, daß man bei dem deutlichsten Gesange die Worte doch immer schwerer versteht, als sonst, auch die Musik gar leicht den Zuhörer in andere Regionen entführt, und nur durch das beständige Hinlenken auf den Punkt, in dem sich der dramatische Effekt konzentrieren soll, gezügelt werden kann.

([...] that the subject-matter clearly unfolds before the spectator’s eyes. Almost without understanding one word, the spectator must be able to form an idea of the plot from what he sees taking place. No dramatic medium needs this clarity to a greater degree than opera. Besides the fact that even with the clearest singing the words are always harder to understand than elsewhere, the music all too easily transports the listener to distant regions and can be kept under control only by being continually directed to the point at which the dramatic effect is concentrated.)72

Clearly, Ludwig is taking a stand against criticisms such as Herder’s concerning the lack of comprehensible dialogues and the poor literary quality of operatic texts. He then proceeds to illuminate the special features of an effective libretto. Background plots, flashbacks, and discussions should be avoided at all costs. The words themselves should powerfully and concisely express the passions and situations to be portrayed. Frills and especially similes have no place in an operatic text. In short: ‘der Stoff, die Handlung, die Situation, nicht das prunkende Wort, muß den Komponisten begeistern, und außer den sogenannten poetischen Bildern, sind alle und jede Reflexionen für den Musiker eine wahre Mortifikation’. (‘It is the subject-matter, plot, and situation, rather than fine words, which must inspire the composer. Not only so-called poetic imagery, but any sort of reflection, is a positive mortification for the musician’.)73

71 Herder, Sämtliche Werke, XXIII, p.336. 72 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.771; Charlton, p.205. 73 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.772; Charlton, p.206. Poet and Composer 181

The decisive element is therefore not a text’s literary quality but its suitability for musical composition. This depends first and foremost on the subject matter, and furthermore on the arrangement of the text. With this in mind, the question concerning whether poet and composer represent a single or dual identity seems secondary or even futile. Although the essay is composed as a dialogue, Ferdinand scarcely develops his own voice in the conversation and often fails to ask critical questions. Rather, he seems to echo the common opinions and prejudices held against opera voiced by contemporary intellectuals and poets. Ludwig (the musician) clearly dominates the dialogue, and he, as will be shown below, is responding to trends and tendencies in three areas: theoretical discourse, libretto writing and musical practice.

Theoretical Discourse: The Poet (A. W. Schlegel) and the Composer (E. T. A. Hoffmann)

In spite of the rich discourses in philosophy, religion, literature and the arts prevalent in the Romantic period, opera was not paid much attention on either a theoretical level or in creative production. To illustrate the lack of reflection concerning opera, we will turn to an authoritative text on dramatic art by a prominent representative of the German Romantic movement, August Wilhelm Schlegel’s Vorlesungen über dramatische Kunst und Literatur (Lectures on Dramatic Art and Literature).74 Schlegel delivered his lectures at Vienna in 1808 and they were published in three volumes between 1809 and 1811. Hoffmann was familiar with them, as we learn from his diary: ‘viel in Schlegels dramatischen Vorles[ungen] gelesen – Ich will die wichtigsten Definit[ionen] aus dem Werke ad usum ausziehn’. (‘I read a lot in Schlegel’s dramatic lectures – I want to copy the most important definitions from the book ad usum’.)75 Schlegel does touch on opera in the second lecture, where he reveals himself to be unimpressed with the dramatic talent of the Italians and considers it to be no coincidence that both opera and ballet are Italian inventions: ‘theatralische Ergötzungen, wobei die dramatische Bedeutung gänzlich der Musik und dem Tanz untergeordnet wird’. (‘Two species of

74 August Wilhelm Schlegel (1767-1845) founded, together with his younger brother Friedrich Schlegel (1772-1829), the journal Athenaeum (1798-1800), which became the organ of the Romantic school. A. W. Schlegel was especially known for his Shakespeare translations. Hoffmann warmly praised Schlegel’s translations of Calderón (see Chapter Four). 75 Tagebücher, 12 January 1811, p.113. 182 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera theatrical amusement, in which the dramatic interest is entirely subordinate to music and dancing’.)76 Herder had criticized opera in a similar vein, as we have seen. Along the same lines, Schlegel returns to opera in the fourth lecture, and tries to define the essence of this art: ‘Diese Anarchie der Künste, da Musik, Tanz und Dekoration durch Verschwendung ihrer üppigsten Reize sich gegenseitig zu überbieten suchen, ist das eigentliche Wesen der Oper’. (‘This anarchy of the arts, where music, dancing, and decoration are seeking to outvie each other by the profuse display of their most dazzling charms, constitutes the very essence of the opera’.)77 Opera, according to Schlegel, represented a very different fairy world, populated by a singular kind of singing creatures, not by real human beings. The severity of classical taste had no place here. Instead colorful variety and a medley of profusion ruled the stage, to which the costumes (excessively tinselled and spangled garb in particular) also belonged. The fact that opera was mainly sung in a language not generally understood did no harm, for ‘der Text geht ja ohnehin in solcher Musik verloren’ (‘the words are altogether lost in the music)’.78 To compare the simplicity of Greek tragedy, where poetry formed the main object, with the fantastic magic and opulence of opera would therefore be absurd. Ludwig, as we have seen, agreed with Schlegel on just one point: The proper subject matter of opera is not everyday life but the fantastic. Schlegel, however, maintained that music, dance, and stage design had nothing to do with the development of the drama, and that the dramatic meaning disappeared within the opulence of the other arts. Ludwig had insisted in the dialogue that drama was not restricted to the text alone, but that music could convey the drama using its own means. Schlegel’s claim that the text is subordinate in opera was echoed by the poet Ferdinand when he complained how fruitless an undertaking it was to work out a libretto carefully: ‘[…] so ist es ja ganz erschrecklich, daß ihr oft unsere schönsten Verse unbarmherzig wegstreichet, und unsere herrlichsten Worte oft durch Verkehren und Umwenden mißhandelt, ja im Gesange ersäufet’. (‘[…] it is quite horrifying that you so often ruthlessly strike out our finest lines, abuse our noblest words by twisting and inverting them, in fact by drowning them in music’.)79 According to Ludwig, however, the fact that

76 August Wilhelm Schlegel, Vorlesungen über dramatische Kunst und Literatur, 2 vols (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1966-1967), I (1966), p.33. Lectures on Dramatic Art and Literature, by August Wilhelm Schlegel, translated by John Black, revised by A. J. W. Morrison, 2nd edn (London: George Bell & Sons, 1886), p.35. 77 Schlegel, Vorlesungen, I, p.59; Black, p.64. 78 Schlegel, Vorlesungen, I, p.59; Black, p.64. 79 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.758; Charlton, p.194. Schlegel had noted quite similarly: ‘In der Oper hingegen ist die Poesie nur Nebensache, Mittel, das Übrige Poet and Composer 183 the words were barely understandable did not diminish the drama in any way; character, situation and the important moments of dramatic action were conveyed by a careful balance between text and music, achieving an even stronger effect through their cooperation. If the music seemed to stray from the text, this was due to a text that was totally unsuited to opera. Ludwig therefore clearly argued against allegations of ‘anarchy’ among the participating arts. Ferdinand’s assumption that the most suitable opera text needed to be extremely brief and provide a sketch rather than a complete drama,80 is exactly what Schlegel advises a librettist to do: ‘Die beste Vorschrift für einen Operntext ist daher, eine poetische Skizze zu liefern, deren Umrisse nachher durch die übrigen Künste ausgefüllt und gefärbt werden’. (‘The best prescription for the composition of an opera is, take a rapid poetical sketch and then fill up and colour the outlines by the other arts’.)81 Ludwig corrected this view, reminding the poet that subject matter, character, action and situation had to be developed according to the rules of drama, but that the words should be limited and convey a powerful expression. Although Schlegel did not admire the dramatic products of the Italians, he did praise their great mimic talent for buffoonery.82 Ludwig was more enthusiastic, calling the acting of Italian comedians ‘inimitable’. Schlegel’s sixteenth lecture is dedicated to Italian drama despite his reservations. Again, there is one point on which Schlegel and Ludwig were in full agreement: their rejection of Pietro Metastasio. While Schlegel objected mainly to the subject matter of his works, Ludwig criticized Metastasio’s poetic imagery. In his fourth lecture, Schlegel had pointed out that it was a complete misapprehension to relate opera in any way to ancient tragedy.83 In the sixteenth lecture this aspect informs his criticism of Metastasio: ‘Hätte Metastasio sich nur nicht an großen historischen Namen vergriffen; hätte er seine Gegenstände häufiger aus der Mythologie oder aus noch phantastischeren Dichtungen entlehnt [...] Durch die tragischen Ansprüche hat er seinen Handel verdorben’. (‘Had Metastasio not adopted great historical names—had he borrowed his subject-matter more frequently from mythology, or from still more fanciful fictions—[…] By his tragical

anzuknüpfen; sie wird unter ihren Umgebungen fast ertränkt’. (‘But in the opera the poetry is merely an accessory, the means of connecting the different parts together; and it is almost lost amidst its many and more favoured accompaniments’.) Schlegel, Vorlesungen, I, p.59; Black, p.64. 80 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, pp.770-771. 81 Schlegel, Vorlesungen, I, p.59; Black, p.64. 82 Schlegel, Vorlesungen, I, p.33. 83 Schlegel, Vorlesungen, I, p.59. 184 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera pretensions he has injured himself’.)84 Ludwig, on the contrary, defended tragic opera despite its exclusion of fantastic elements. In the face of tragedy, he argued, people rise to a higher level and achieve god-like deeds, all of which call for the higher language of music. As if countering Schlegel, he reminded Ferdinand: ‘Wurden, beiläufig gesagt, nicht schon die antiken Tragödien musikalisch deklamiert? und sprach sich nicht darin das Bedürfnis eines höhern Ausdrucksmittels, als es die gewöhnliche Rede gewähren kann, recht eigentlich aus?’ (‘Incidentally, were the ancient tragedies not musically declaimed, and did that not clearly express the need for a loftier means of expression than ordinary speech can provide?’)85 Unlike Schlegel, Ludwig does see a relationship between ancient tragedy and opera, and reverses Schlegel’s low opinion of this ‘opulent’ art: ‘Ich wollte, Ferdinand, nichts Geringeres andeuten, als die innige Verwandtschaft der Kirchenmusik mit der tragischen Oper’. (‘I would like to point out nothing less, Ferdinand, than that church music and tragic opera form an intimate kinship’.)86 Instead of ‘the revelry of emulation between the different means’, colorful abundance, and glitter, as Schlegel had defined the essence of opera in general,87 Ludwig attributes a ‘sacred’ style to tragic opera. Schlegel simply distinguishes between old and modern opera, commenting on the latter:

Man verlangt jetzt in der Oper häufiger Duos und Trios und lärmende Finale. In der Tat dürfte es die schwerste Aufgabe für den Operndichter sein, die verworrenen Stimmen streitender Leidenschaften sich zu einer gemeinschaft- lichen Harmonie begegnen zu lassen, ohne ihr Wesen aufzuheben: eine Aufgabe, die aber meistens sowohl von dem Dichter als dem Musiker nur sehr willkürlich gelöst wird.

(At present we require in an opera more frequent duos and trios, and a crashing finale. In fact, the most difficult problem for the opera poet is to reduce the mingled voices of conflicting passions in one pervading harmony, without destroying any one of them: a problem, however, which is generally solved by both poet and musician in a very arbitrary manner.)88

Schlegel’s view in general seems to be based exclusively on Baroque opera, which was governed by the aesthetics of the ‘miraculous’, and employed the aria as most important form of musical expression. Modern developments

84 Schlegel, Vorlesungen, I, p.240; Black, pp.218, 219. 85 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, pp.766-767; Charlton, p.201. 86 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.767; Charlton, p.201. 87 Schlegel, Vorlesungen, I, p.59; Black, p.64. 88 Schlegel, Vorlesungen, I, p.242; Black, p.220. Poet and Composer 185 such as ensemble pieces and extensive finali were met with complete incomprehension. When Schlegel finally turns to Italian comedy, he does not comment on its musical version at all, but rather holds opera responsible for ‘the lamentable state of decline’ of dramatic poetry and acting in Italy and concludes that not even the foundations of a true national theater have yet been laid.89 He acknowledges that this is partly due to the country’s lack of permanent companies of players and of a capital.90 In comparing its situation with that of Germany, where improvement in the theater is also compromised by the absence of a central capital, Schlegel completely ignores the fact that the Italians, in stark contrast to the Germans, could boast a true national musical theater. Schlegel’s criteria for judging drama are apparently rooted in literature, not music. The reasons for his rejection of opera buffa are elucidated in the twenty-fourth lecture, which is partly dedicated to French opera. After praising Philippe Quinault’s libretti for their fantastic qualities, Schlegel addressed contemporary French opera.91 In Schlegel’s view, Quinault had found no successors. Instead of choosing mythological subjects or pastoral or chivalrous themes, historical subjects modelled after tragedy were now preferred. Rather than to the heroic and tragic, however, opera was better suited to the miraculous. In Hoffmann’s dialogue, Ludwig seems to set the record straight by defending tragic opera, pointing to Gluck’s unsurpassed achievements in this genre. Schlegel, however, did find some appreciative words for French comic opera, and in particular defended its use of spoken dialogue rather than recitative, which in his view ruined Italian opera buffa:

In […] Rezitativen läßt sich eine nur mäßig verwickelte Anlage nicht mit gehöriger Klarheit entwickeln. Deswegen wird in der italienischen Opera buffa die Handlung gänzlich vernachlässigt und sie bietet nebst der grotesken Überladung nur einförmige Situationen dar, die gar nicht aus der Stelle rücken wollen.

(In the recitatives, [...] a plot which is even moderately complicated cannot be developed with due clearness. Hence in the Italian opera buffa, the action is altogether neglected; and along with its grotesque caricatures, it is distinguished for uniform situations, which admit not of dramatic progress.)92

89 Schlegel, Vorlesungen, I, pp.247, 251-252. 90 Schlegel, Vorlesungen, I, p.252. 91 Philippe Quinault (1635-1688) established his reputation as a librettist for Jean- Baptiste Lully (1632-1687); the genre of tragédie en musique (tragédie lyrique) was a result of their cooperation. 92 Schlegel, Vorlesungen, II (1967), p.98; Black, p.328. 186 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Ludwig in Hoffmann’s dialogue could not disagree more with Schlegel’s critique of the genre. Not surprisingly, he felt an urgent need to express himself on the subject: ‘Doch ich bin dir meine Meinung über die Opera buffa noch schuldig’. (‘But I still owe you an explanation of my views about opera buffa’.)93 Apart from pointing to the fantastic as the governing principle underlying the whirling action of opera buffa, Ludwig also emphasized the importance of modern costume, which should be worn in this form of opera, whereas Schlegel had only mentioned exuberant garb as being appropriate for opera in general. In his lectures on dramatic art and literature, Schlegel therefore clearly underestimated the importance of opera, and especially of opera buffa, for Italian dramatic art, and failed to acknowledge contemporary developments in both French and Italian opera. Ludwig addresses these shortcomings in the dialogue Der Dichter und der Komponist. The essay could very easily be read as a dialogue with a Romantic discourse on opera, in which the missing voice of a composer is now heard, reflecting on the essence of operatic art and the features that distinguish it from spoken drama. Schlegel’s lack of insight is astonishing, for he himself had criticized Metastasio’s predecessor Apostolo Zeno for disregarding the essential differences between opera and French tragedy, which he had taken as a model. Schlegel’s own advice, namely ‘[…] den Geist und die verschiednen Gesetze jeder Gattung anzuerkennen’ (‘ascertaining the spirit and peculiar laws of each distinct species’) was exactly where he fell short in his judgments on opera.94 Ludwig stepped in, however, wherever Schlegel failed to recognize the ‘spirit’ and ‘peculiar laws’ of opera and its various genres. In responding to this lack of theoretical reflection on opera, Ludwig touched on many aspects relating to the art of libretto writing. Using his essay Der Dichter und der Komponist as his foundation, Hoffmann explicitly addressed this topic in his review of August von Kotzebue’s Opern-Almanach, which appeared in the AMZ in 1814.

93 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.767; Charlton, p.202. 94 Schlegel, Vorlesungen, I, p.239; Black, p.217. Poet and Composer 187

How Not to Write a Libretto: Der Opern-Almanach des H[er]rn A. v[on] Kotzebue (A. v. Kotzebue’s Opera Almanac)

Like Der Dichter und der Komponist, this review was another contribution not commissioned by the AMZ, but written by Hoffmann of his own accord. On 19 July 1814, Hoffmann wrote to Härtel: ‘Der Polygraph Kotzebue hat einen OpernAlmanach ans Tageslicht gefördert, und mich gemahnt es sehr darüber manches zu sagen, was wohl in Zeit und Ordnung taugte’. (‘The polygraph Kotzebue has come out with a collection of libretti, and I feel a strong urge to say a few words about it just in due course and time’.)95 The review was published in the AMZ in October and November of that year.96 At the beginning of the review, the anonymous author shares with his readers how he had been overjoyed by the appearance of Kotzebue’s latest collection of libretti97 and how he had immediately sent it to his friend, the famous composer and music director ‘Y’. ‘Y’ had recently complained bitterly about the utter lack of good libretti and thus the author thought he would be doing his friend a great favor by sending them. Nothing could have been further from the truth! The great masters had peculiar ideas and expectations concerning libretti, our author of the review noted, and as proof he published the letter he had received in return from his friend. In this letter, the befriended composer described the effect on him of Kotzebue’s latest publication: ‘[…] als treibe ein innen verschlossener, antimusikalischer Dämon seinen neckhaften Spuk, floh alle Musik von mir; ich kann behaupten, daß mein Innres niemals so musikleer war, als bei dem Lesen der Opern des Hrn. v. K.’ (‘As if teasingly haunted by an internal, anti-musical demon, all music fled from me; I can assure you that my inner self has never been so deprived of music as when reading Kotzebue’s operas’.)98 The problem with these libretti, according to the composer, lay in the fact that Kotzebue had no idea what the true essence of opera was.99 In

95 Briefwechsel, I, p.477. 96 Published in AMZ 16: 43 & 44 (26 October & 2 November 1814), cols 720-724, 736-741. Reprinted in Schriften zur Musik, pp.258-268. 97 Der Opern-Almanach für das Jahr 1815. Von August von Kotzebue (Leipzig: Kummer, 1815 [1814]) 98 Schriften zur Musik, p.262. 99 Carl Maria von Weber likewise disapproved of Kotzebue’s libretti, poking fun at the improbability and spectacle he produced: ‘In diesem Produkte hat Herr von Kotzebue ein würdiges Seitenstück zu seiner früheren Oper Des Teufels Lustschloß geliefert, in dem es womöglich noch bunter drunter und drüber geht. In Deodata findet der Schaulustige jeder Klasse etwas für sich. – Gefahr ohne Zahl – mißlungene Rettungen – Wahnsinn – Edelmut – Bärenhöhlen – Kerker – Kämpfe – Gift und

188 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera the preface to an earlier libretto, Deodata, Kotzebue had called onstage singing ‘unnatural’, and he had therefore tried to ‘motivate’ the arias and songs as much as possible.100 Opera however, the composer countered, was governed by music, the language of a higher realm, which was in that case not less natural but even more natural than spoken language. To learn more about the true essence of opera, he referred to a publication in the AMZ entitled ‘Der Dichter und der Komponist’, noting that all true musicians would agree with the composer in the dialogue. The true realm of opera was the Romantic, and in Romantic opera, the Romantic dimension reveals itself before the spectator’s eyes. The language then necessarily has to be raised to a higher level as well, i.e. it must take the form of song. Quoting from the earlier contribution, he went on to explain how action and situation, ‘in mächtigen Klängen und Tönen schwebend, uns gewaltiger ergreift und hinreißt. Auf diese Art entspringt nun [...] die Musik unmittelbar und notwendig aus der Dichtung selbst’. (‘carried forward by irresistible sonorities, seize and transport us more potently. In this way, […] the music should spring directly and inevitably from the poetry’.)101 Kotzebue’s libretti, however, had exactly the opposite effect: The more the composer read these texts, the more abandoned he was by music. Kotzebue seemed to think that, by inserting some arias and songs between the long, chatty dialogues of existing comedies, he had transformed them into operas. That arias, choruses, duets, etc. should be ordered successively in a musically effective way had never occurred to him. The effect of every musical number was moreover immediately ruined by the longwinded prose dialogues. Last but not least, the inner structures of the musical numbers themselves were stiff and clumsy, making them unsuitable for musical composition, since the composer was not setting word for word, but rather the impression of the whole. In short, on all levels, in idea and in treatment, in general as well as in detail, Kotzebue had no notion

Dolch – usw., und am Ende noch zieht den Verfasser ein unwiderstehliches Wahrheitsgefühl dazu, das Ganze in Feuer und Rauch aufgehen zu lassen und so ahnungsvoll sein künftiges Schicksal anzudeuten’. (‘This is a worthy companion- piece to Kotzebue’s earlier opera Des Teufels Lustschloss and has an even more richly varied plot, if that is possible. Deodata provides something for every kind of theatre- lover. There are dangers innumerable, attempted rescues, madness, nobility of mind, bears’ caves, prisons, battles, poisons and daggers – and at the end the author finds himself impelled by a sheer sense of reality to dissolve the whole affair in smoke and flames, and so to give a prophetic vision of his future fate’.) Review of B. A. Weber’s Deodata, Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, pp.115-116; Weber, Writings on Music, pp.84-85. 100 Schriften zur Musik, p.260. 101 Schriften zur Musik, p.263. Poet and Composer 189 whatsoever as to the true nature of opera. As a composer he felt competent to judge these comedies and plays, since the author had presented them as libretti. In a postscript, however, the composer finally retracts all his criticism: It had occurred to him that Kotzebue’s collection was in fact ingenious! In his preface, which the composer had read last, Kotzebue stated that he had received so many requests from composers to provide libretti that he could never fulfill them all, hence he had put together this collection of his worst plays and …. would never be bothered with any future requests! Although Hoffmann criticized Kotzebue’s Opern-Almanach in a humorous and ironic way, he addressed a very serious problem. The lack of good German libretti was legendary. Mozart had already complained about this problem to his father: ‘ich weis nicht was sich unsere teutsche dichter denken; – wenn sie schon das theater nicht verstehen, was die opern anbelangt – so sollen sie doch wenigstens die leute nicht reden lassen, als wenn schweine vor ihnen stünden’. (‘I really don’t know what our German poets are thinking of. Even if they do not understand the theatre, or at all events operas, yet they should not make their characters talk as if they were addressing a herd of swine’.)102 Equally famous is Beethoven’s vain search for good libretti,103 on which topic his letter to Count Ferdinand Pálffy speaks volumes: ‘Es ist so schwer ein gutes Buch zu finden für eine oper, ich habe seit vorigem Jahr nicht mehr als 12 d.g. zurück gegeben, ich habe selbst aus meinem Sack bezahlt, und konnte doch nichts brauchbares erhalten’. (‘It is very difficult to find a good libretto for an opera. Since last year I have turned down no less than twelve or more of them. I even paid for them out of my own pocket and yet was not able to find one I could use’.)104

102 Letter of 26 September 1781, Mozart. Briefe und Aufzeichnungen, III, p.163; The letters of Mozart and his family. Chronologically arranged, translated, and edited with an introduction, notes and indexes by Emily Anderson, 2nd edn, prepared by Alec Hyatt King and Monica Carolan, 2 vols (London: Macmillan/New York: St Martin’s Press, 1966), II, p.769. 103 In a conversation with Carl Maria von Weber in 1823, he is reported to have exclaimed: ‘Immer die alte Geschichte! die deutschen Dichter können keinen guten Text zusammenbringen!’ (‘Always the same old story! The German poets are not able to put together a good text!’) Ludwig van Beethoven. Berichte der Zeitgenossen, Briefe und persönliche Aufzeichnungen, gesammelt und erläutert von Albert Leitzmann, 2 vols (Leipzig: Insel, 1921), I: Berichte der Zeitgenossen, p.263. After all, even Joseph Sonnleithner’s libretto for Fidelio was an adaptation of Jean-Nicolas Bouilly’s Léonore, ou L’amour conjugal. 104 Letter of 11 June 1811, Ludwig van Beethoven, Briefwechsel. Gesamtausgabe, ed. by Sieghard Brandenburg, 7 vols (Munich: Henle, 1996- ), II: Briefe 1808-1813, pp.195-

190 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Beethoven’s patron, Prince Joseph von Lobkowitz, who became director of the Viennese court opera in 1812, announced a contest for the best libretto, to be rewarded with one hundred ducats for the best text in the tragic genre, and the same amount for the best comic text.105 Goethe had been asked to chair the panel of judges,106 and he commented in a letter to Zelter:

Der Operntext soll ein Carton sein, kein fertiges Bild. So denken wir freilich, aber in der Masse der lieben Deutschen steckt ein totaler Unbegriff dieser Dinge, und doch wollen Hunderte auch Hand anlegen. […] Eine neue Deutsche Oper nach der andern bricht zusammen, wegen Mangel schicklicher Texte, und die lieben Wiener, die gar nicht wissen wo die Zäume hängen, setzen einen Preis von hundert Dukaten auf die beste Oper, die irgend jemand in Deutschland hervorbringen soll, da sie an der rechten Schmiede das Doppelte bieten könnten und immer noch dabei gewönnen.

(The libretto for an opera should be a vessel, not a finished picture. This is certainly our opinion, but most of our good Germans have no comprehension of the matter, yet hundreds try their hand at it. […] One new German opera after another fails for want of a good text, and the good Viennese, who do not in the least know where the shoe pinches, offer a hundred ducats for the best opera which anyone in Germany could produce; however, they would be better off doubling the amount at the right smithy, and would then come out the winners.)107

According to Goethe, opera should be a collaborative product, and only through continuous trial and error could anything of value be developed. This is also Goethe’s ‘excuse’ for being unable to fully comply with Lobkowitz’s wishes. In his reply to Lobkowitz (7 October), he emphasized that an opera text is not an independent work of art and can only be judged in relation to the music, the composer, the stage, the audience, and other operas. Since he was far from Vienna, he could therefore not entrust

196; The letters of Beethoven. Collected, translated and edited with an introduction, appendixes, notes and indexes by Emily Anderson, 3 vols (London: Macmillan, 1961), I, p.325. 105 The announcement was published in the AMZ 14: 18 (29 April 1812), cols 305-306. Hoffmann notes the contest in his diary on 23 April, but it is not known how he received this information so early (Tagebücher, p.151). 106 See the letter of Lobkowitz to Goethe, 2 September 1812, in Goethe und Österreich, ed. by August Sauer, 2 vols (Weimar: Goethe-Gesellschaft, 1902-1904), II (1904), p.44. 107 19 May 1812, Johann Wolfgang Goethe, Sämtliche Werke nach Epochen seines Schaffens, XX/1: Briefwechsel zwischen Goethe und Zelter in den Jahren 1799 bis 1832, Briefe 1799-1827, ed. by Hans-Günter Ottenberg and Edith Zehm (1991) (in the following, cited as MA, XX/1), pp.279-280; Lorraine Byrne Bodley, Goethe and Zelter: Musical Dialogues (Farnham: Ashgate, 2009), pp.154-155. Poet and Composer 191 himself with any decisive judgment.108 Goethe’s skepticism turned out to be justified; all efforts were to no avail, and the list of German composers in search of suitable libretti goes on: Franz Schubert,109 Heinrich Marschner,110 Ludwig (Louis) Spohr,111 Felix Mendelssohn,112 and last but not least, Carl Maria von Weber.

Carl Maria von Weber: The Thorny Path of an Emerging Opera Composer

Born 18 or 19 November 1786, Weber was ten years younger than Hoffmann and had spent his first ten years traveling with his father’s theater company.113 Weber and his half-brothers had received music lessons from

108 See Goethes Werke, herausgegeben im Auftrage der Großherzogin Sophie von Sachsen, 143 vols (Weimar: Böhlau, 1887-1919), IV: 23: Goethes Briefe, Mai 1812- August 1813 (1900), pp.110-112. (Henceforth cited as WA) 109 The Austrian dramatist Eduard von Bauernfeld recalled: ‘Meister Franz ging es wie allen deutschen Kompositeuren, er sehnte sich sein lebelang nach einem tüchtigen Operntext’. (‘Meister Franz shared the same fate as all other German composers; he longed for a suitable libretto his entire life’.) Schubert. Die Erinnerungen seiner Freunde, ed. by Otto Erich Deutsch (Wiesbaden: Breitkopf & Härtel, 1983), p.268. 110 ‘Aufruf an geachtete deutsche Dichter und Komponisten’, (1824) calls for the composition of libretti and comic operas or Singspiele, which should be published yearly. (Georg Münzer, Heinrich Marschner (Berlin: Harmonie, 1901), p.17; Anno Mungen, Musiktheater als Historienbild. Gaspare Spontinis ‘Agnes von Hohenstaufen’ als Beitrag zur deutschen Oper (Tutzing: Schneider, 1997), p.42.) 111 ‘Aufruf an deutsche Komponisten’, AMZ 25: 29 (16 July 1823), cols 457-464. Spohr also blames the organization of the theatrical world for the lack of German operatic repertoire, pointing especially to the deplorable pay of composers and librettists. Poor taste in libretto writing is also mentioned and composers are encouraged to write genuinely dramatic music, matching the plot in tone, style and character. Spohr finally proposes elevating opera to a higher artistic level by replacing spoken dialogue with recitative. 112 ‘Gieb mir einen rechten Text in die Hand, und in ein paar Monaten ist er componirt; denn ich sehne mich jeden Tag von Neuem danach, eine Oper zu schreiben […] aber eben die Worte sind nicht da. […] Wenn du einen Mann kennst, der im Stande ist, eine Oper zu dichten, so nenne mir ihn um Gotteswillen; ich suche nichts Anderes’. (‘Give me a proper text and it will be composed within a few months; I am longing to write an opera every day anew […] only the words are missing. […] If you know someone who can compose a libretto, please tell me, for God’s sake; that is all I am looking for’.) Letter to Eduard Devrient, 15 July 1831 in: Briefe aus den Jahren 1830 bis 1847 von Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy, ed. by Paul Mendelssohn Bartholdy and Carl Mendelssohn Bartholdy (Leipzig: Hermann Mendelssohn, 1870), pp.156-157. 113 Franz Anton von Weber (1734-1812), musician, Kapellmeister, and theater director. Carl Maria was the first son of his second marriage to the singer and actress Genovefa Brenner (1764-1798). 192 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera their father and he began piano lessons with the organist and composer Johann Peter Heuschkel. During their stay in Salzburg, in 1797, Weber studied counterpoint with Michael Haydn and after their move to Munich the following year, continued his piano studies with Johann Nepomuk Kalcher and composed his first opera, Die Macht der Liebe und des Weins (The Power of Love and Wine), as well as a mass, piano sonatas, and other chamber music. His second opera, Das Waldmädchen (The Forest Girl), premièred unsuccessfully in Freiberg on 24 November 1800, and in his first published contribution, Weber referred to the heated debate that his opera had provoked. Back in Salzburg in 1801, Weber composed yet another opera, Peter Schmoll und seine Nachbarn (Peter Schmoll and his Neighbours, 1803), and after a year-long tour through Northern Germany, he became a student of organist and composer Georg Joseph Vogler (1749-1814) in Vienna. Here, Weber also made the acquaintance of prominent composers such as Salieri, Gyrowetz, Wranitzky, Johann Nepomuk Hummel, and Joseph Haydn. On Vogler’s recommendation, Weber was appointed conductor at the theater in Breslau in 1804. He was seventeen years old and, although clearly very gifted, too young to be accepted by the musicians, who resented his efforts to reform and reorganize the Opera. Weber left Breslau in 1806 and the following year became secretary to Duke Ludwig of Württemberg. Encouraged by Franz Danzi, the court composer, Weber composed Silvana (a reworking of Das Waldmädchen) and incidental music to Friedrich Schiller’s Turandot. He also began writing his novel Künstlersleben (later entitled Tonkünstlers Leben) and published an episode from the work in Morgenblatt für gebildete Stände (27 December 1809). Weber and his father were arrested in February 1810 after Franz Anton misappropriated Duke Ludwig’s funds. Although the charges of embezzlement were dismissed, the Webers were banished from the state. A two-year period of travel followed, during which Weber resumed his studies with Vogler. In September 1810, he produced Silvana in Frankfurt, to little success. With his new literary and musical friends, who included Alexander von Dusch, Gottfried Weber, and Giacomo Meyerbeer, Weber founded the so- called Harmonischer Verein. The objective of this secret society was to raise the standards of music criticism and to promote each other’s works. With Dusch, Weber briefly embarked on a new opera project based on the Freischütz story, but it languished in the planning stages. He did complete the one-act Singspiel Abu Hassan, however, and this received a successful première in Munich (4 June 1811). No new opera projects emerged, but a concert tour in 1812 with his new friend, clarinet virtuoso Heinrich Joseph Baermann (for whom Weber composed three clarinet concertos), brought him to Berlin. Here he made Poet and Composer 193 the acquaintance of, among others, his future publisher Adolph Martin Schlesinger, as well as Friedrich Wilhelm Gubitz, and E. T. A. Hoffmann, and also became involved with Zelter’s Singakademie and Liedertafel. After well-received performances of Silvana on 10 and 14 July, Weber pursued his journey, but during a visit to Prague in early 1813, was unexpectedly offered the position of music director of the opera at the Estate Theater. He accepted the offer on 8 February and soon went to Vienna in order to recruit new singers, instrumentalists, and choristers for the moribund company in Prague. Weber embarked on his directorship in Prague with enthusiasm and verve, and turned to a wider audience with his ‘Invitation to Librettists’, published in the AMZ in March 1813.114 In an accompanying letter to Rochlitz, he noted that he was ‘thirsting for a good opera text’ and asked the editor to publish the invitation in the Leipzig Literaturzeitung as well.115 Weber worded his invitation as follows:

Der Unterzeichnete wünscht sobald als möglich in den Besitz eines guten Operntextes zu kommen, den er in Musik zu setzen und anständig honorieren will. Er fordert hiermit die Dichter Deutschlands, die sich dieser Arbeit unterziehen wollen, auf, ihre Manuskripte nebst Bedingungen baldigst einzusenden, indem er zugleich dafür steht, daß, im Falle der Nichtbenutzung, das Manuskript ohne den mindesten Mißbrauch wieder dem Verfasser zugestellt werden wird.

(The undersigned wishes to acquire as soon as possible a good opera libretto for setting to music, and is prepared to pay a good price. He hereby invites any German poet prepared to undertake this work to submit a manuscript, stating his terms; and he undertakes to return this manuscript to the author, should it prove unsuitable to his purpose, without in any way misusing the copy. Prague, 12 March 1813 [signed by Kapellmeister Carl Maria von Weber, Director of the Opera of the Königliches Böhmisches Ständisches Theater in Prague].)116

Almost a year after the fruitless contest initiated by the court opera in Vienna, Weber’s invitation was again unsuccessful. The failure on the part of German poets and dramatists to provide acceptable libretti can hardly be explained by the meager honorarium alone. Apart from Hamburg, opera had always been an imported product at theaters and courts in the German

114 ‘Aufforderung’, AMZ 15 Intelligenzblatt IV (March 1813). Reprinted in Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, pp.365-366. 115 ‘Nach einem guten Operntexte lechze ich ordentlich […]’. Letter of 12 March 1813, Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.LXVI; URL: http://www.weber-gesamtausgabe.de/de/ A002068/Korrespondenz/A040608. The invitation did not appear in the Literatur- zeitung. 116 Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, pp.365-366; Weber, Writings on Music, pp.125-126. 194 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera territories. The need for German operas, as well as a positive environment in which a libretto writing tradition could be developed and fostered, had thus far been lacking, and evidently could not be created overnight. On 9 September 1813, Weber mounted the first performance of his revived company with a performance of Gaspare Spontini’s Fernand Cortez (1809). Despite his ambitious plans for promoting German opera (during his tenure in Prague, for example, Weber conducted performances of Beethoven’s Fidelio, Meyerbeer’s Alimelek, and the première of Spohr’s Faust), most of the operas he produced were translations from French works by Boieldieu, Charles-Simon Catel, Cherubini, Dalayrac, Grétry, Isouard, and Méhul, among others. The sheer dearth of German operas did not allow for building a German repertory. Weber himself could find no time and, as we have seen, no libretti for embarking on a new opera project of his own, and the lack of kindred spirits, such as those he had found in Heidelberg or Berlin, depressed him all the more. Weber’s struggle exemplifies the lack of institutional support for German opera and should caution us not to overestimate the role that opera was able to play in the quest for a German identity or in nation building. Notwithstanding the rhetoric of its proponents, the desire to establish a German opera was apparently not felt very intensely by playwrights, theater managers, or the cultural élite in general.

Musical Practice

One of the main concerns of Hoffmann’s essay Der Dichter und der Komponist is the lack of suitable libretti, which he considered one of the principal obstacles to the creative production of opera composers. In the dialogue, Ludwig had condemned the ‘orphanages’ and ‘oculists’ as total misconceptions, given their completely nonoperatic subject matter. Hoffmann himself conducted Gyrowetz’s highly-popular Der Augenarzt in Dresden on 10 September 1813, and had reviewed the work the year before, following Breitkopf & Härtel’s publication of the piano reduction.117 He had also written an extensive review of Joseph Weigl’s Das Waisenhaus as early as 1810,118 which reads like a prelude to the later dialogue between Ludwig and Ferdinand. The poet’s plan or concept of an opera must inspire the composer, Hoffmann had opened his review by saying, and if it succeeds in exciting his imagination, the weak or ineffective elaboration of certain

117 AMZ 14: 53 (30 December 1812), cols 855-864. 118 AMZ 12: 51 (19 September 1810), cols 809-819. Poet and Composer 195 details cannot temper his enthusiasm.119 In Der Dichter und der Komponist Ludwig placed equal emphasis on the importance of the subject matter in ensuring a successful composition. In the review, Hoffmann continued his argument, again foreshadowing the later dialogue:

Rez. hat es immer sehr eingeleuchtet, wie Mozart und andere große Komponisten, zu schlechten Texten Meisterwerke geben konnten; denn er fand bis jetzt, daß allemal dem Ganzen eine romantische Idee, wie sie die Oper unerläßlich fordert, zum Grunde lag, und nur die Ausführung jener Idee mißraten, meistenteils mit zu wenig Sorgfalt hingeworfen war, wie es z. B. mit der Zauberflöte der ins Auge springende Fall ist.

(It has always greatly struck the reviewer how Mozart and other great composers were able to write masterpieces to bad texts; until now he has found every time that the whole work was based on a romantic concept, an absolutely indispensable requirement of opera, and that only the elaboration of this idea was deficient, ususally because it was dashed off with too little care, as is conspicuously the case with Die Zauberflöte for example.)120

Ludwig shared this opinion, as we have seen. While subject matter is crucial, the textual treatment is of less importance. The reason for this lies in the creative process of composing, as Hoffmann explains in his review. In writing an opera, a composer does not think of individual verses or scenes; rather, his spirit overflows with the drama’s overall imaginative idea, which brings forth the musical sounds that vividly and powerfully characterize the figures of the drama. ‘Nach den Versen des Dichters regelt und ordnet rhythmisch nachher der Komponist seine Musik, wie sie jene Idee gebar’. (‘Following the poet’s text, the composer then adjusts and rhythmically sets out the music that the concept has given birth to’.)121 The composer is thus able to compose most of the music before even seeing the text, which is basically just a useful tool in rounding off the composition and filling in details. Good verses will therefore be helpful, but are not essential.

119 Schriften zur Musik, p.52. 120 Schriften zur Musik, p.52; Charlton, p.253. 121 Schriften zur Musik, p.53; Charlton, pp.253-254. Mozart describes the process quite similarly in a letter to his father concerning an aria of Osmin from Die Entführung aus dem Serail: ‘die aria hab ich dem H: Stephani ganz angegeben; – und die hauptsache der Musick davon war schon fertig, ehe Stephani ein Wort davon wuste’. (‘I have explained to Stephanie the words I require for this aria—indeed I had finished composing most of the music for it before Stephanie knew anything whatever about it’.) Mozart, Briefe und Aufzeichnungen, III, p.162; The letters of Mozart and his family, II, pp.768-769. 196 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Selecting appropriate subject matter, however, was of the utmost importance. Although it might be heartwarming and elevating to see how patients are treated in hospitals, or how poor orphans are devotedly cared for in special institutions, such topics, Hoffmann maintained in his review, are nevertheless unsuitable for presentation onstage. In opera, which should raise human nature to a higher power, the language is song and the chords echo every expression of feeling. Opera, the review continues, can only exist ‘in the wonderful realm of romanticism’, and therefore ‘[...] ist es gewiß verwerflich, Szenen des gemeinen Lebens zu wählen, die jeder Romantik geradezu entgegenstreben’. (‘it is quite wrong to choose scenes from ordinary life which positively counteract any sense of the romantic’.)122 Almost despairingly, Hoffmann would again vent his disdain for unsuitable, utterly nonoperatic subjects in his review of Der Augenarzt:

Was soll aber aus unserer theatralischen Musik werden, wenn auch die Oper sich bis zu dem gemeinen Tun und Treiben des beengten bürgerlichen Lebens erniedrigt, das dem Geiste, der sich in das romantische Reich, wo Gesang die Sprache ist, emporschwingen will, die Fittige lähmt, und die Phantasie erdrückt? [...] ‘Ist denn Gesang der Misere Winseln und Jammern?’

(But what is to become of music in our theatres when even opera lowers itself to the vulgar dealings of domestic ordinariness, which clips the spirit’s wings and curbs its invention instead of letting it soar up into the romantic realm whose language is song? […] ‘Is singing now to be the whining and wailing of misery?’)123

In Hoffmann’s view sentimental comedy, despite its popularity, clearly had no place on the operatic stage. Der Dichter und der Komponist, as well as these reviews, give the impression that in creating a good opera, everything depends entirely on subject matter, thus freeing the composer from any responsibility for writing suitable music. Indeed, Hoffmann does appear to defend Weigl, when he asserts that he, the reviewer, had dwelt so long on the libretto of this opera in order to do full justice to the composer, whose wings of imagination had been clipped by the dull, nonoperatic overall idea of the text.124 He even concludes the

122 Schriften zur Musik, p.53; Charlton p.254. 123 Schriften zur Musik, p.106; Charlton, pp.295-296. Another AMZ reviewer, quite to the contrary, praised the work’s clear plot and touching scenes, and expressed his hope that the composer would soon enrich the stage with similar works! AMZ 13: 47 (20 November 1811), col.793. 124 Schriften zur Musik, p.54. Poet and Composer 197 review by expressing his wish to see the composer undertake an ingenious and imaginative subject matter very soon. The analytical discussion in the review reveals that not simply the libretto but also the composer was responsible for Hoffmann’s unfavorable judgment. He criticized the character of the overture, for example, which in no way prepared the audience for the subject at hand, but was much too heroic, a mistake that could also be found in many new, light French operas. In the finale, the climax of the entire drama was not depicted musically at all, and the composer contented himself with a change in the accompanimental figure and a simple modulation. According to the reviewer, however, at least a new tempo, meter, and modulation into a remote key would have been advisable. If a composer fails to capture dramatically-decisive moments of a plot, one might conclude, another subject would have been of little use. Hoffmann, however, essentially left this conclusion to be drawn by his readers. Hoffmann’s views on opera in general, and on this work in particular, were by no means communis opinio. A reviewer from Vienna, for example, who attended a performance of Das Waisenhaus shortly after its première in 1808, praised both librettist and composer, and considered the finale in particular to be proof that the composer had succeeded in capturing the drama’s decisive moments.125 Equally contrary to Hoffmann’s views was the judgment of another correspondent from Vienna, who praised the sensible, attractive plot of Das Waisenhaus, which he believed must surely have been partially responsible for the work’s enormous success.126 There were no complex passages or long orchestral ritornellos; rather, the music was simple, melodic, and moving. A reviewer from Leipzig agreed: ‘Man müsste mit grosser Einseitigkeit nur am Frappanten, Bizarren und Tumultuarischen in der Musik hangen, wenn man dies Werk nicht unter die schönsten, welche seit einigen Jahren geschrieben worden sind, zählen […] wollte’. (‘One would have to adhere with great one-sidedness to the enthralling, bizarre, and tumultous in music, if one did not count this work among the finest, that have been written in the past few years’.)127 An extended eulogy follows on Weigl’s intelligent, diligent, and experienced compositional style, and his ability to convey important scenes and situations musically, directly reaching the hearts of audience members. Finally, the critic lavishly praises the beautiful balance between the work’s melodic and expressive song and the

125 AMZ 11: 5 (2 November 1808), cols 79, 80. 126 AMZ 11: 8 (23 November 1808), col.124, 125. 127 AMZ 11: 29 (19 April 1809), cols 456-457. 198 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera rich and charming instrumental parts. There could be no greater contrast between the views of these reviewers and the evocation of the true essence of opera that Hoffmann presented in Der Dichter und der Komponist, with its scenes of war and merciless fate, and Ludwig’s composition of a Beethovenian symphony as a prelude to the discussion on opera. Although Hoffmann’s disapproval of German comedies à la Kotzebue and of sentimental domestic pieces was largely based on their nonoperatic subject matter, his music reviews showed that the composer, too, was responsible for the final impression of the work. This is clearly shown in a review that Hoffmann wrote on François-Adrien Boieldieu’s opéra comique Le Nouveau Seigneur de Village (Paris, 1813), which was published in the AMZ in October 1814.128 Hoffmann argued that this type of work was erroneously called comic opera, but in fact had nothing in common with genuine opera buffa as practiced by the Italians. Its lack of genuine comedy sprang from the character of the French people, whose smoothness in conversation and organisation of society erased every characteristic stamp of the individual. Similarly, Hoffmann continued, French comedy did not strive for depth and significance of the idea or for detailed characterization. Due to this lack of depth, genuine humor was alien to the French, and just as alien to them was the romantic-fantastic element predominant in Italian opera buffa.129 French comic operas, therefore, were rather mere comedies with incidental music, with the result that the music itself was an incidental embellishment rather than an essential prerequisite of the text, and like the text, the music aimed for smoothness and elegant flow, to be savored without effort. The reviewer had to admit, though, that under the influence of German music, French music had gained a new momentum and now featured more lyrical melodies and richer and more varied harmonic elaboration in the German manner. A few composers were even creating works of real value instead of merely imitating their foreign counterparts, and Boieldieu was certainly one of these. The libretto for his new opera was the sort of comedy that could hardly inspire a composer. Its basic premise was uninspired: village locals were awaiting the arrival of their new squire, whose servant, however, was pretending to be his master, thus causing all sorts of misunderstandings. As Hoffmann’s review reveals, he credits Boieldieu for having been able to furnish this utterly insignificant plot with skillful and

128 AMZ 16: 40 (5 October, 1814), cols 669-673; Schriften zur Musik, pp.268-272. Adrien Boieldieu (1775-1834), leading composer of opéra comique, was greatly admired by Carl Maria von Weber (see Chapter Four). Among his best-known operas are Le Calif de Bagdad (1800), Jean de Paris (1812), and especially La Dame blanche (1825). 129 Schriften zur Musik, p.268. Poet and Composer 199 effective music. Many numbers are praised for their apt characterizations and Boieldieu’s eye for detail, and his technical command is especially admired in the harmonically rich three-part canon (No. 6, for soprano and two tenors). Although Hoffmann is not thrilled by this one-act comedy, he acknowledges the composer’s achievements despite the uninspiring, insignificant libretto. The review is moreover noteworthy for yet another feature: like Der Dichter und der Komponist, this is one of Hoffmann’s few works which clearly show the influence on the author of contemporary political circumstances and the Wars of Liberation. Hoffmann sent the review to the AMZ on 12 September 1814 and had probably written it shortly before. Just the month prior, on 8-10 August, he had composed a patriotic piano piece entitled Deutschlands Triumph im Siege bey Leipzig den 19. October 1813, clearly celebrating the victory of the allied forces and the defeat of Napoleon at the Battle of Leipzig. The composition had been commissioned by the same publisher as Hoffmann’s caricatures and appeared under the pseudonym Arnulph Vollweiler.130 Hoffmann’s anti-French tendencies cannot be overlooked in the Boieldieu review, however. In spite of his appreciation of the music, he pointed out that Boieldieu nevertheless was and would remain a ‘truly French composer’, and thus ‘outstanding profundity and significance’ were not ‘among his gifts’.131 Negative connotations in Hoffmann’s discussion of Boieldieu’s characterization as ‘French’ occur throughout the review. According to Hoffmann, Ariette no. 4, for example, would appeal only to those who liked songs in ‘such a sugary, typically French style’. The theme of Duet no. 8 is accompanied by the question, ‘What could be more typically French?’ without any further comment and the melody of the last part is also dismissed as ‘typically French’. ‘French’ here is apparently a code-word for superficiality and lack of depth, as Hoffmann had illustrated in his introduction by contrasting the facile French joke with the more profound Italian humour. The true source of Hoffmann’s ill-will, however, is revealed by his closing sentence: The reviewer expresses his hope that ‘[…] das kleinliche Operettenwesen […], wie es von der französischen Bühne auf die unsrige herüberkam, […] zu gleicher Zeit mit der blinden,

130 Adam Friedrich Gotthelf Baumgärtner, owner of the Leipzig Industrie-Comptoir, published the caricatures as well as the fantasy for piano (Tagebücher, pp.254, 459- 460). Perhaps Hoffmann still wanted his name to become public only through a successful musical composition for the theater, as he had told Kunz, or he did not want to be associated with such ‘ordinary’ descriptive music, as Charlton seems to suggest. Charlton, p.237 fn.6. 131 Schriften zur Musik, p.269; Charlton, p.384. 200 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera aber freilich mit dem Schwerte in der Faust erzwungenen Verehrung alles dessen, was von dorther kam, recht bald verschwinden möge’. (‘this trivial genre of operetta, just as it came from the French stage to ours, might disappear again as soon as possible, together with our blind reverence (admittedly extorted sword in hand) for everything else that comes from there’.)132 To Hoffmann, everything ‘French’ was associated with the invaders who had imposed their language, customs, and culture on the occupied German territories. The fact that the spirit of the times in which the review emerged is largely responsible for Hoffmann’s hostile attitude is evident from its isolated occurrence. None of his later reviews exhibit such anti-French rhetoric; rather, French opéra comique served as a model for German operatic efforts, including Hoffmann’s own Undine (see Chapters Four and Five).

Der Dichter und der Komponist: A Program for Romantic Opera?

A brief survey of some of Hoffmann’s reviews has shown that, in large part, his views do concur with those expressed by Ludwig in the dialogue, except that Ludwig seems to hold the subject matter fully responsible for the final product. As Hoffmann opined in his reviews, Ludwig rejected the dramatic treatment of ordinary life in a comic or sentimental fashion, but also warned against the wrong kind of ‘Romanticism’, stating ‘[…] daß ich diejenigen armseligen Produkte, in denen läppische, geistlose Geister erscheinen, und ohne Ursache und Wirkung Wunder auf Wunder gehäuft werden, nur um das Auge des müßigen Pöbels zu ergötzen, höchlich verachte’. (‘that I utterly despise those wretched productions in which absurd spiritless spirits appear and miracle is heaped upon miracle without cause or effect, merely to amuse the gaze of the idle rabble’.)133 In condemning such a ‘merely whimsical sequence of pointless magical happenings’, Ludwig might have been referring to the Viennese magic Singspiel, and especially to Ferdinand Kauer’s highly-popular Das Donauweibchen (Vienna, 1798; see Chapter Four). A truly Romantic opera, according to Ludwig, could only be written by an inspired and ingenious poet, citing two examplary poets in this respect: Carlo Gozzi and Ludwig Tieck (1773-1853), whom he called ‘a genuinely Romantic poet’. Tieck’s libretto Das Ungeheuer und der verzauberte Wald (1800) he considered to be genuinely Romantic in concept, although it was too

132 Schriften zur Musik, p.272; Charlton, 387. 133 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, pp.760-761; Charlton, p.196. Poet and Composer 201 long and also too overloaded with subject matter to be suitable for a successful composition. Much of the dialogue is dedicated to Carlo Gozzi, and Ludwig simply cannot understand why this treasure trove of outstanding operatic subjects has been so little explored thus far.134 Although he discusses Gozzi’s fiaba Il corvo (1762) in detail, in order to demonstrate the ‘poetic truth’ of the miraculous element, Ludwig does not dwell on any specific exemplary opera at all. His admiration for Così fan tutte, as a splendid example of a truly ironic opera buffa and for Die Zauberflöte as a model for Romantic opera is not further explained. With respect to the musical characteristics of these genres, moreover, Ludwig is remarkably silent. This is all the more surprising because Ludwig, the composer, dominates the dialogue. He does begin by commenting on music:

Ist nicht die Musik die geheimnisvolle Sprache eines fernen Geisterreichs, deren wunderbare Accente in unserm Innern widerklingen, und ein höheres, intensives Leben erwecken? Alle Leidenschaften kämpfen schimmernd und glanzvoll gerüstet mit einander, und gehen unter in einer unaussprechlichen Sehnsucht, die unsere Brust erfüllt. Dies ist die unnennbare Wirkung der Instrumentalmusik.

(Is not music the mysterious language of a distant spirit-realm, its wonderful accents resounding in our souls and awakening a higher, intenser awareness? All the emotions vie with each other in dazzling array, and then sink back in an inexpressible longing that fills our breast. This is the indescribable effect of instrumental music.)135

The language immediately recalls Hoffmann’s review of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony.136 When Ludwig was composing his symphony amid the turmoil of war, the fictional frame of the dialogue had clearly demonstrated how music revealed to him an unknown realm that was quite separate from the actual world surrounding him. The dialogue, however, concerns itself with opera, not with symphonic music. Hence Ludwig’s observation: ‘Aber nun soll die Musik ganz ins Leben treten, sie soll seine Erscheinungen ergreifen, und Wort und Tat schmückend, von bestimmten Leidenschaften und Handlungen sprechen’. (‘But now music is expected to step right into

134 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.761. Several operas based on Gozzi had been written by then, such as, for example Der Rabe (1794) by Andreas Romberg (1767-1821) and Die Sylphen. Eine Zauberoper in drey Aufzügen nach Gozzi (1806) by Friedrich Heinrich Himmel. (Charlton compiled a list of operas based on Gozzi, see Charlton, pp.186- 187; see also Rusack, Gozzi in Germany, pp.56-103, 178-183.) 135 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, pp.760; Charlton, p.196. 136 Review of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5, Schriften zur Musik, pp.34-51 (p.34). 202 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera everyday life, to come to grips with the world of phenomena, adorning words and deeds and dealing with specific emotions and actions’.)137 Music would thus have to descend to Earth from its marvellous realm and ‘come to grips’ with concrete and ordinary aspects of existence. Ludwig himself formulates the problem by asking whether the sublime language of music can speak of ordinary things at all. He provides an evasive answer, however, placing all of the responsibility on the poet: ‘Der Dichter rüste sich zum kühnen Fluge in das ferne Reich der Romantik; dort findet er das Wundervolle, das er in das Leben tragen soll’. (‘Let the poet be prepared for daring flights to the distant realm of romanticism, for it is there that he will find the marvellous things that he should bring into our lives’.)138 A little later, he repeats this insight almost word for word, stating once more that only an inspired poet of genius can bring the wonders of the spirit-realm to us and transport us there on his wings.139 Ludwig thus clearly circumvented the problem as to whether music can depict deeds and actions from ordinary life, addressing instead only the poet’s responsibility. Ludwig himself defined the essence of opera, whether romantic, tragic or comic, as the conflict of the human world with the fantastic or with a higher eternal power, and therefore one would expect him to provide some further reflection on the question as to how music could depict such opposing realms. Since Ferdinand does not inquire any further into this topic either, the question remains unresolved. Similarly, the smooth blending of comic and tragic elements that, according to Ferdinand, is so typical of a romantic work, is another aspect in need of further clarification. Garlington had wondered about Ferdinand’s abrupt shift in the conversation, since there appeared to be no comic element to Jennaro’s story in Gozzi’s fable as related by Ludwig.140 Ferdinand’s observation, however, explains Ludwig’s remark about the comic roles of the (improvised) masks in Gozzi’s fiabe: ‘Wie herrlich sind nun auch die komischen Partieen der Masken eingeflochten’. (‘How spendidly the comic rôles of the masks are also woven in’.)141 In this respect, Ludwig and Ferdinand echo Schlegel, who praised the masks in Gozzi’s dramas for their contrasting quality: ‘Dem abenteuerlichen Wunderbaren der Feenmärchen diente die ebenso stark aufgetragene Wunderlichkeit der Maskenrollen vortrefflich zum Gegensatz’. (‘the

137 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, pp.760; Charlton, p.196. 138 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, pp.760; Charlton, p.196. 139 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, pp.760-761. 140 Garlington Jr., ‘E.T.A. Hoffmann’s “Der Dichter und der Komponist”’, pp.38-39. 141 Hoffmann,Sämtliche Werke, I, p.765; Charlton, p.200. Poet and Composer 203 wonderful extravagance of the masked parts serves as an admirable contrast to the wild marvels of fairy tale’.)142 This effective blending of comic with tragic elements Gozzi shared with Romantic drama in other languages. Ludwig apparently regards this aspect as being important to Romantic opera as well. But what kind of mixture of comic and tragic aspects is he thinking of, and how should these be presented musically? Does the music of the comic parts originate from the same spirit realm as the serious parts, or should we understand this to be a reference to Papageno and Papagena in Die Zauberflöte, the only exemplary Romantic opera mentioned in the dialogue? Again, Ludwig’s plea for a genuine Romantic opera remains unexplained with respect to concrete aspects of composition, and not even the general musical outline of a Romantic opera is ever addressed. Ferdinand complains about the structure of the trios, quartets, finali and so on that he, as librettist, would have to observe, and more generally about the forms composers adhere to, although one might wonder with what justification.143 Ludwig, however, never explains which musical forms he expects or why. Since he does not correct or contradict Ferdinand, one might assume that he feels comfortable with the traditional number opera, but should there be dialogue or recitative? In Don Juan, spoken dialogue had been harshly condemned. The dialogue Der Dichter und der Komponist, however, is completely silent on such an essential element, which should be clarified between composer and librettist. In using Mozart’s Zauberflöte as the implied example, one would expect spoken dialogue to be preferred, but how is this compatible with Ludwig’s demand for a composition in which language is raised to a higher power, so that irresistible sonorities seize and transport us more potently? Spoken dialogue would break the magic spell and pull us down to Earth time and again. Ludwig does not offer any insights as to how a Romantic opera should be realized in musical composition. The composer is remarkably silent about his own art. An examination of some of Hoffmann’s own reviews has shown that he was less concerned with the musical form on a large scale than with the musical realization of important moments in the drama. Such concerns, which are completely absent from the dialogue, are addressed in an essay entitled Über einen Ausspruch Sachini’s, und über den sogenannten Effekt in der Musik (On a Remark of Sachini’s, and on So-called Effect in Music). The essay was composed during the period when Hoffmann was working on Act II of his

142 Schlegel, Vorlesungen, I, p.248; Black, p.227. 143 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.758. 204 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera own opera Undine, and appeared in the AMZ on 20 July 1814.144 Entirely devoted to the musical considerations of opera, the essay complements the earlier dialogue, which had focused on subject matter and libretto writing.

A Word to the Composer: Über einen Ausspruch Sachini’s, und über den sogenannten Effekt in der Musik

In the AMZ’s Table of Contents, this contribution is listed under ‘Theoretical Essays’. Hoffmann later incorporated the text into his Kreisleriana II in the Fantasiestücke, which suggests that the eccentric Kapellmeister Johannes Kreisler authored the essays. Here, the essay will be discussed as a theoretical contribution complementing Der Dichter und der Komponist. The leading Italian opera composer Antonio Sacchini (1730-1786), referred to in the essay’s title, received his musical education in Naples, and after producing operas in other major Italian cities such as Venice, Rome, and Padua, he moved to London in 1772 and to Paris in 1781, where he came to appreciate Gluck’s tragédies lyriques. Sacchini’s remark, which Hoffmann uses as the starting point for his essay, can be summarized as follows: Music for the theater should always be straightforward and simple, should touch the heart rather than elicit wonder and amazement, and must be comprehensible even to less-trained ears. This is in contrast to church music, which does tolerate more modulations and greater complexity. The essay’s topic thus clearly addresses what the dialogue had omitted: the typical characteristics of operatic music. Hoffmann begins by condemning the Italian form of aria-centered opera. The Italians, he maintained, viewed the music as ‘incidental accompaniment’ to the play, and focused on displaying the singer’s vocal technique. ‘Die Italiener erhoben sich nicht zu der Ansicht, daß die Oper in Wort, Handlung und Musik als ein Ganzes erscheinen, und dieses untrennbare Ganze im Totaleindruck auf den Zuhörer wirken müsse […]’. (‘The Italians did not progress to the view that in opera word, action, and music should appear as a unified whole, and that this indivisible whole should create a total impression on the listener’.)145 Such a unified whole would move the listeners more deeply than music unconnected to the drama. As he explained in the dialogue, opera should evoke the greatest possible, most profoundly stirring effect in the listener. In this essay,

144 AMZ 16: 29 (20 July 1814), cols 477-485. 145 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/1, p.439; Charlton, p.152. Poet and Composer 205

Hoffmann also subscribes to this view and criticizes Sacchini: ‘Sachini verwirft in der Oper alles Starke, Erschütternde der Musik, welches er in die Kirche verweist; er hat es im Theater nur mit angenehmen, oder vielmehr nicht tief eingreifenden Empfindungen zu tun; er will nicht Erstaunen, nur sanfte Rührung erregen’. (‘In opera Sacchini rejects any forceful or upsetting elements, consigning them to the church. In the theatre he will tolerate only agreeable sensations, or rather those which do not move one deeply; he wishes not to be disturbing, but merely to be gently touching’.)146 In Hoffmann’s view, Sacchini clearly adheres to the aesthetics of feeling that were prevalent in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, a criticism that we have also encountered in Hoffmann’s criticism of Joseph Weigl. Music was mainly seen as the language of emotions that should, first and foremost, move the heart. According to Hoffmann, however, opera should bring about a deeply moving and unsettling effect, depending on the dramatic context, which can only be achieved if the musical and dramatic moments of action coincide. The composer should therefore create the drama just as the poet does. All musical resources are at his command and the composer should not hesitate to use them. Not just simplicity, as Sacchini suggested, but highly-complex structures could also achieve the intended effect even to untrained ears. The listener might not recognize the music’s technical structure, but he is nevertheless swept away by the dramatic impact. Clearly, Hoffmann warned, this should not lead to the erroneous assumption that using all available means automatically creates the intended effect. Unfortunately, though, this had been the case among Mozart’s many imitators, who set out to achieve the same marvellous effect by employing ‘numerous striking modulations’ and an array of wind instruments. Instead of achieving the intended effect, however, this only resulted in ‘Unfug der überladenen Instrumentierung und des bizarren, unmotivierten Modulierens’. (‘chaos of overladen orchestration and bizarre, unmotivated modulation’.)147 The reason for the lack of effect lay in the fact that the higher meaning of Mozart’s music had not been recognized; rather, all attention had been directed to the musical material. Reduced to imitating the form, the spirit had been ignored, whereas the spirit should create the form. All musical means should always emerge from the work’s innate character and not be chosen simply for the sake of variety. How then should

146 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/1, p.439; Charlton, pp.152-153. Hoffmann would judge Sacchini’s actual compositional style more favorably (see Chapter Five), and had already pointed out in the present essay, how Sacchini changed his musical treatment after hearing Gluck’s works in Paris. 147 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/1, p.441; Charlton, p.154. 206 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera a young composer go about setting an effective opera? Hoffmann admits that the answer amounts to the following: ‘Freilich heißt das alles nur so viel, als: Sei so gut, Lieber, und sorge nur dafür, ein recht musikalischer Genius zu sein: das Andere findet sich dann von selbst!’ (‘Just make sure, my dear fellow, that you are a musical genius, and then the rest will take care of itself!’)148 Hoffmann’s ironic advice, however, also reveals how difficult it is to find words for compositional processes. Obviously, as he explained, the composer should read the libretto carefully, imagine all of the dramatic situations, live in the dramatic characters, and feel their joy, their anger, and their pain; then the fire of inspiration will ignite the notes, melodies, and chords and from deep within the drama will flow forth in the magical language of music.149 In this light, he not surprisingly concludes that it is impossible to formulate rules for bringing about the intended effect in music. Although Hoffmann sees genius as a prerequisite, he does not deny that composition is also a craft. While the most effective music is created in a state of ecstasy, only through studying harmony, analyzing masterworks by the great composers, and from experience in composing, can one more and more clearly conceive one’s inner music and capture it in a score. He then offers some guiding suggestions for composers who had been wandering astray. As the most important element in music he singles out melody, which seizes the human imagination with magical power.150 This melody should be ‘singable’, flowing directly from the human breast. The simple arias of the earlier Italians offer the purest example of such truly singable melodies. They should serve as inspiring models for the modern German opera composer as well:

Überhaupt ist der Gesang ein wohl unbestrittenes, einheimisches Eigentum jenes, in Musik erglühten Volkes und der Deutsche mag, ist er auch zur höhern, oder vielmehr zur wahren Ansicht der Oper gelangt, doch auf jede ihm nur mögliche Weise sich mit jenen Geistern befreunden, damit sie es nicht verschmähen, wie mit geheimer, magischer Kraft einzugehen in sein Inneres und die Melodie zu entzünden.

(Melody is in fact the undisputed, native property of that passionately musical people, and the German, if he has arrived at a higher, or rather at a proper view of opera, should become familiar with their spirits in every way he possibly can,

148 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/1, p.442; Charlton, p.155. 149 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/1, p.442. 150 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/1, p.444. Poet and Composer 207

so that they do not disdain to kindle melodies in his soul as by some magical power.)151

A shining example among German composers is Mozart, ‘der hohe Meister der Kunst [...] in dessen Brust der italienische Gesang erglühte’ (‘that great master of art [...] in whom Italian melody burned brightly’).152 Even without his brilliant orchestral parts, Hoffmann noted, every one of his melodies moves us deeply. Hoffmann’s next guideline concerns modulation, which he believes should only be prompted by the dramatic situation. Whether the spirit is moved strongly, gently, or overpoweringly, this should be reflected in the music by shifting to harmonically-related or remote keys gradually, or at a single stroke, according to the dramatic requirements. The difficulty in offering clear instructions becomes apparent here. The profound art of harmony, according to Hoffmann, is rooted deep inside us, and its mysterious laws will not be found in any textbook. He would, however, like to draw attention to the fact that abrupt changes of key will only have a great effect when the keys involved have an underlying harmonic relationship, as is the case, for example, with enharmonic progressions. Finally, orchestration is another musical element that the great masters used to achieve an overpowering effect. ‘Hier möchte es aber wohl kaum möglich sein, auch nur eine einzige Regel zu wagen: denn eben dieser Teil der musikalischen Kunst ist in mystisches Dunkel gehüllt’. (‘Here too, however, it is hardly possible to venture even a single rule; for this department of the musical art is enveloped in mystical darkness’.)153 He would like to warn against the false assumption that strength and power can be expressed most convincingly by having all of the instruments play together. Often, a single note sounded by one instrument can cause a great inner turmoil, as Gluck’s operas demonstrated. Every instrument, moreover, is capable of a variety of effects, as Mozart in particular has shown. Hoffmann’s essay exemplifies the difficulties of writing about technical aspects of composition. He essentially offers useful hints and suggestions, with some general references to Gluck and Mozart. A more in-depth example, comparable to Gozzi’s Il corvo in the dialogue, is absent from the text. Truly effective musical means, Hoffmann maintains, are revealed only to the composer’s inner spirit and a thorough acquaintance with the works of the great masters is an important step towards achieving such an inner

151 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/1, p.444; Charlton, p.157. 152 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/1, pp.444-445; Charlton, p.157. 153 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/1, p.446; Charlton, p.158. 208 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera revelation. Just such a masterpiece, which reveals what Hoffmann tried to bring out in his two complementary essays, is Mozart’s Don Giovanni, as recounted in Hoffmann’s tale Don Juan. The tale had emphasized how the poetic idea of the subject matter, not the text, had inspired Mozart to create his ingenious music. This insight, that the subject matter rather than the words was the key to a successful opera, was the dialogue’s main topic as well. Hoffmann addresses the criticism of overloaded instrumentation and structural complexity in Über einen Ausspruch Sachini’s, again lauding Mozart as exemplary, because he has employed these musical means wisely. As a result of Hoffmann’s repeated mention of such ill-advised habits as crude changes of key, blaring chords and similar offenses, some scholars have read the essay Über einen Ausspruch Sachini’s as representing veiled criticism of Gaspare Spontini, although he is never mentioned.154 Given Hoffmann’s negative view of everything related to Napoleon at the time, this assumption may well be correct. Hoffmann, indeed, explicitly criticized Spontini and his opera Fernand Cortez (Paris, 1809) in this respect in a contribution penned three months after the Boieldieu review.155 The two theoretical essays, in particular, can be regarded as responses to criticism voiced mainly by literary critics, who saw all poetry as being drowned out by the more-ostentatious other arts. Both pieces, the dialogue as well as Über einen Ausspruch Sachini’s, clearly disprove such assumptions in showing that poets and composers are kindred spirits, that drama is created from within in each art form, with each according to its own means but with both striving for a careful balance to achieve the maximum overall effect. The composer who can create another poetic world like no other is the creator of symphonies. It is no coincidence, then, that in the introductory story that Hoffmann invented for the dialogue, Ludwig composes a symphony in Beethoven’s style. This gift, of listening to the inner spirit in order to gain higher awareness and of capturing visions of the sublime in

154 E.g., Charlton, p.72. A comparable reference to Spontini, whose name is likewise never mentioned in the text, is found in the fifth chapter of Carl Maria von Weber’s Tonkünstlers Leben, written a few years later (1817). In this dialogue, Diehl criticizes the ‘luxuriant harmony’ and ‘excessively elaborate instrumentation’, especially in French music, which sacrifices clarity and simplicity of harmony. Here, Felix comes to the rescue of ‘the famous composer’ (i.e. Spontini, according to Weber’s manuscript) to whom Diehl referred. He may have misinterpreted Mozart’s and Gluck’s achievements, but despite his ‘bizarre’ music, he [Spontini] still remained true to his great genius. Each of his works was highly individual and wholly his own achievement. Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.472; Weber, Writings on Music, pp.337-338. 155 Briefe über Tonkunst in Berlin. Erster Brief (discussed in Chapter Six). Poet and Composer 209 musical forms, is not limited to the composer of instrumental music but is also characteristic of opera composers. The Beethovenian symphony, moreover, announces that the subject at hand is neither ordinary nor sentimental, but of a sublime nature. The context of the war had additionally emphasized that it was not familiar norms and values, but rather a higher power that governed the world. Like the symphony, opera should astonish or even disturb the listener. The framework thus prepares the reader for the main topic of the forthcoming discussion: the spirit of opera, for the dialogue proper is not concerned with symphonies or even, for that matter, with music.

Der Dichter und der Komponist and the Future of German Opera

Rather than offering a program for Romantic opera, the dialogue responds, as we have seen, to common prejudices and false assumptions about this extraordinary art on three levels: theoretical discourse, libretto writing, and musical practice. Herder’s concern that opera had been degraded to expressing purely musical ideas, thus silencing the tone poet (Tondichter), was shared principally by the Romantics. The dialogue clearly set out to correct such views, proclaiming both the poet and the composer to be members of a single church. The dialogue also made it clear that opera is comprised of various genres, each with different characteristics. Apart from adding this important missing voice to the discourse, the dialogue also settled old scores relating to certain libretto writing practices and offered the outline of a new ‘librettology’. Finally, the dialogue also criticized compositional practices, making composers jointly responsible for misconceptions about opera. Although it is not made explicit, the dialogue seems to be a discussion of the state of German opera in particular. Most of the positive as well as negative examples offered are by German or Austrian composers—Gluck, Mozart, Ditters von Dittersdorf, Wenzel Müller, Joseph Weigl, Adalbert Gyrowetz. Embedding the dialogue within scenes alluding to the Wars of Liberation reinforces this assumption. The birth of German opera out of the spirit of the symphony (a truly German accomplishment) and out of the spirit of liberation is what the framing story appears to suggest. The end of the dialogue reinforces this impression when Ferdinand, ready to join the lines and fight the enemy, sees a vision of a bright future: ‘Die Morgenröte bricht an und schon schwingen sich begeisterte Sänger in die duftigen Lüfte und verkünden das Göttliche, es im Gesange lobpreisend. Die goldnen Tore sind geöffnet und in Einem Strahl entzünden Wissenschaft und Kunst das heilige Streben, das die Menschen zu Einer Kirche vereinigt’. (‘The dawn is 210 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera breaking; enraptured voices rise into the fragrant air proclaiming godliness and praising it in song. The golden gates are open, and art and science kindle in a single incandescence all the holy aspirations that unite mankind into a single church’.)156 The end of the war thus will not only bring political liberation, but also will set free the creative forces of humanity. In the new context of Die Serapionsbrüder, Lothar voices a similar conviction:

[…] wohl uns, daß das bedrohliche Gewitter, das über unsern Häuptern donnerte, statt uns zu vernichten, uns nur gestärkt hat und erkräftigt wie ein tüchtiges Schwefelbad. Es ist mir so, als fühle ich erst jetzt unter euch meine vollkommene Gesundheit und neue Lust, mich nun, da jenes Gewitter sich ganz verzogen, wieder recht zu rühren in Kunst und Wissenschaft.

([…] Fortunately for us, the ominous storm that thundered about our heads, instead of destroying us, has merely strengthened and invigorated us like a powerful sulphurbath. It seems that only now, among you, with the storm completely past, do I feel my full health returning, together with a new desire to apply myself seriously again to art and science.)157

He also expects Theodor to come forth with the libretto and music of a first-rate opera. The kind of opera it should be, its forms, its musical language, none of this was addressed in the dialogue. Depending on its genre, such a new work should evidently capture the fantastic spirit of Italian opera buffa, the heroic tone of Gluckian tragédie lyrique, or even open up a new Romantic realm, for which Gozzi’s libretti and Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte were commended as inspiration. The German opera of the future therefore was to be open to influences from other European traditions. In his second lecture, Schlegel had also contemplated the reasons why the Germans were lagging behind in dramatic art. Germans, he noted, were more contemplative than practical in nature and the German national character, furthermore, was too modest, while in drama nationality should be a key component.158 This modesty on the part of Germans became especially apparent in their eagerness to learn from foreign traditions, an endeavor that was often accompanied by undervaluing their own merits.159 Like the conclusion of the dialogue, Schlegel is convinced that this attitude will also lead the way forward. However, this should not be in the form of mere imitation: ‘[…] wir suchen, wie mich dünkt, eine Form, welche das wahrhaft Poetische aller jener Formen, mit

156 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, pp.774-775; Charlton, p.208. 157 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, IV, pp.118-119; Charlton, p.208. 158 Schlegel, Vorlesungen, I, pp.33-34. 159 Schlegel, Vorlesungen, I, p.34. Poet and Composer 211

Ausschließung des auf herkömmliche Übereinkunft Gegründeten in sich enthalte; im Gehalte aber soll deutsche Nationalität vorwalten’. (‘As it appears to me, […] [we] are in search of a more perfect form, which, excluding all that is merely local or temporary, may combine whatever is truly poetical in all these theatres. In the matter, however, the German national features ought certainly to predominate’.)160 Both parties in the dialogue Der Dichter und der Komponist would certainly agree with Schlegel’s opinion that what is ‘truly poetical’ in other traditions should be retained in works of the future. The dialogue did not address ‘German national features’, however, nor would the examples cited reveal any typical German traits. Mozart’s Zauberflöte, which in formal terms was a mixture of German Singspiel and Italian opera semiseria, and took place in a faraway Egyptian fairytale realm, did not offer any orientation for German national identity, nor did Gozzi’s dramas, and it was not clear whether his works should be set in Italian or in German adaptations. The way ahead, at least as outlined in the dialogue, was not inspired by any national aspirations concerning content, origin, or musical expression.161

The Poet and the Composer: Hoffmann’s Own Creative Production

The dialogue up to this point has shown a composer (Ludwig) responding to perceptions of opera as represented in contemporary discourses on literature and art, and to practices of composing libretti. The opinions voiced by Ludwig are largely in accord with those found in Hoffmann’s own music reviews, although compared to the latter he is more reticent with regard to musical aspects. Ludwig’s enthusiasm for opera buffa, however, and his eagerness to discuss it (‘But I still owe you an explanation of my views about opera buffa’) reveal yet another voice—that of Hoffmann the author. Ludwig’s description of opera buffa hardly conveys a typical scene in the genre:

160 Schlegel, Vorlesungen, I, p.34; Black, p.36. 161 Rumph notices a genuine schism in Hoffmann’s artistic persona that he finds mirrored in the fictional characters of the dialogue, a schism between the ‘disengaged aesthete’ (Ludwig) and the committed patriot (Ferdinand), leading him to wonder, ‘which is the real Hoffmann?’ (Rumph, Beethoven after Napoleon, pp.22-24.) The problem seems to lie more in the question and in the posing of a too-blunt opposition; Ludwig’s plea for a Romantic opera is not politically disengaged at all, but points to a cosmopolitan notion of opera, with which the ‘patriot’ Ferdinand moreover agrees. 212 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Denke dir eine ehrbare Gesellschaft von Vettern und Muhmen mit dem schmachtenden Töchterlein und einige Studenten dazu, die die Augen der Cusine besingen, und vor den Fenstern auf der Guitarre spielen. Unter diese fährt der Geist Droll in neckhaftem Spuk, und nun bewegt in tollen Einbildungen, in allerlei seltsamen Sprüngen und abenteuerlichen Grimassen sich alles durcheinander. Ein besonderer Stern ist aufgegangen, und überall stellt der Zufall seine Schlingen auf, in denen sich die ehrbarsten Leute verfangen, strecken sie die Nase nur was weniges vor.

(Or imagine a respectable family gathering including a love-sick daugther, together with a few students who serenade her eyes and play the guitar below her window; then Puck appears among them in a mood of roguish mischief and everything disintegrates into wild imaginings and all manner of outlandish capers and eccentric contortions. A special star has risen and everywhere chance sets up its coils in which the most respectable of people get entrapped if they stick out their noses even just a whit.)162

Who would not think immediately of the student Anselmus, Deputy Headmaster Paulmann, Registrar Heerbrand, and therefore of the ‘modern fairy tale’ Der goldne Topf (The Golden Pot)? Hoffmann had described a concept of the tale in his letter to Kunz on 19 August 1813, a month before he began work on Der Dichter und der Komponist on 19 September. He sent Kunz the final version of the tale on 5 March the following year.163

Der goldne Topf: A Modern Fairy Tale

As is expected in a fairy tale, humans become entangled with the spirit realm in this modern tale as well. The story begins as follows: ‘Am Himmelsfahrtstage Nachmittags um drei Uhr rannte ein junger Mensch in Dresden durchs schwarze Tor und gerade zu in einen Korb mit Äpfeln und Kuchen hinein, die ein altes häßliches Weib feil bot’. (‘On Ascension Day, at three in the afternoon, a young man ran through the Black Gate in Dresden and right into a basket of apples and cakes which an ugly old woman was offering for sale’.)164 This knocking-over of the old woman’s apple basket has the same impact as Millo’s killing of the raven at the beginning of Gozzi’s Il corvo. The action of killing the raven, Ferdinand remarked, knocks at the gates of the dark spirit-realm and the emerging spirits entangle men in

162 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.768; Charlton, p.202. 163 See Tagebücher, pp.237, 239, 241, 244-248. 164 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/1, p.229; E. T. A. Hoffmann, The Golden Pot and Other Tales, translated by Ritchie Robertson (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), p.1. Poet and Composer 213 the mysterious fate that governs all their actions.165 In this sense, the ‘modern’ tale is comparable to the older fairy tale; however, this is not the case with regard to the characters. Gozzi’s fiaba features characters from a distant past, while in Der goldne Topf, one meets people ‘lifted straight from everyday life’, as Ferdinand had characterized the protagonists of an opera buffa, so that one could say immediately: ‘Sieh da! das ist der Nachbar, mit dem ich alle Tage gesprochen! Das ist der Student, der alle Morgen ins Collegium geht und vor den Fenstern der Cusine erschrecklich seufzt u. s. w.’ (‘Look! That’s my neighbour whom I talk to every day! That’s the student who goes to lectures every morning and sighs terribly below his cousin’s window! And so on’.)166 This is a contemporary fairy tale indeed, as Hoffmann indicated in its subtitle. One might add, as well: a contemporary fairy tale in the spirit of opera buffa, in which protagonists as well as their readers are drawn into a sphere of eccentric follies that turn ‘everything topsy-turvy’. At an early stage, when Hoffmann was still tinkering with ideas for the tale, he wrote to Kunz: ‘Feenhaft und wunderbar aber keck ins gewöhnliche alltägliche Leben tretend und sei[ne] Gestalten ergreifend soll das Ganze werden’. (‘The whole is intended to become fairylike and wonderful, yet it is to enter boldly into ordinary everyday existence and capture its characters’.)167 In other words, Hoffmann intended to introduce the essence of opera buffa into German literature, as he would define this incursion of the fantastic into everyday life in the dialogue.168 Hoffmann was well aware that, in this respect, he was exploring new frontiers, as he expressed in another letter to Kunz after completing the tale: ‘Die Idee so das ganz Fabulose, dem aber wie ich glaube, die tiefere Deutung gehöriges Gewicht giebt, in das gewöhnliche Leben keck eintreten zu lassen ist allerdings gewagt und so viel wie ich weiß von einem teutschen Autor in diesem Maaß noch nicht benuzt worden’. (‘To be sure, the idea of permitting the element of the fabulous to enter boldly into ordinary life is

165 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.765. 166 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.769; Charlton, p.202. 167 Letter of 19 August 1813, Briefwechsel, I, p.408; Selected Letters, p.203. 168 Marianne Thalmann has pointed to the influence of opera buffa on Hoffmann’s personal development, and sees Hoffmann’s ‘fairy tales’ prefigured in the text of Die Zauberflöte (Hoffmann conducted Die Zauberflöte several times in Dresden and Leipzig.) The wise master Sarastro finds his counterpart in Archivist Lindhorst, and both Tamino and Papageno form two sides of Anselmus. (Marianne Thalmann, Das Märchen und die Moderne. Zum Begriff der Surrealität im Märchen der Romantik (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1961), p.84.) Such correlations seem somewhat superficial, apart from the fact that Die Zauberflöte is not an opera buffa; neither are its characters familiar from everyday life, nor are they by chance drawn into drolleries. 214 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera daring and, as far as I know, has not yet been used to this extent by any German author; however, I believe a more profound interpretation lends it the needed weight’.)169 To lift opera out of the sentimental and ordinary sphere, Hoffmann envisioned a renewal originating from the spirit of the symphony, the ultimate Romantic realm. The spirit of opera buffa, on the other hand, might give new life to the old fairy tale, as he now tried to do in this modern version. Ferdinand, after all, was speaking with Hoffmann’s voice as well when he concluded the dialogue with the insight that ‘art and science kindle in a single incandescence all the holy aspirations that unite mankind into a single church’.170 The arts and sciences will be enriched through exchanges across boundaries that had traditionally divided nations or the arts themselves.

Undine or the collaboration between The Poet (Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué) and the Composer (E. T. A. Hoffmann)

We have noted that the dialogue was written between the composition of the first and second act of Hoffmann’s own opera Undine, and speculation was inevitable about the dialogue’s relation to the opera and Hoffmann’s collaboration with his librettist Baron Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué.171 The idea of the opera was born in Bamberg, when Hoffmann was driven out of an old Gothic tower by wind and pouring rain:172

Der Sturm, der Regen, das in Strömen herabschießende Wasser erinnerte mich beständig an den Oheim Kühleborn, den ich oft mit lauter Stimme durch mein gothisches Fenster ermahnte ruhig zu seyn, und da er so unartig war nichts nach mir zu fragen habe ich mir vorgenommen ihn mit den geheimnißvollen Charakteren die man Noten nennt, fest zu bannen! – Mit andern Worten: die Undine soll mir einen herrlichen Stoff zu einer Oper geben!

169 Letter of 4 March 1814, Briefwechsel, I, p.445; Selected Letters, p.221. 170 Charlton, p.208. 171 Friedrich Heinrich Karl Baron de la Motte Fouqué (1777-1843), officer in the Prussian army, known principally for his Romantic fantasies and novels, notably Undine (1811). 172 The so-called ‘Altenburg’, located on the highest hill around Bamberg and overlooking the city, had been acquired in 1801 by Hoffmann’s friend, Bamberg physician Adalbert Friedrich Marcus, who had the castle completely renovated. Hoffmann painted the walls inside one of the towers. Poet and Composer 215

(The storm, the rain, and the water descending in torrents reminded me all the time of Uncle Kühleborn, whom I often exhorted in a loud voice through the Gothic windows to behave himself. Since he was so ill-mannered as to pay no attention to me, I decided to spellbind him with those mysterious symbols we call notes! In other words, the Undine will provide me with magnificent material for an opera.)173

In his next letter to Hitzig, he came with a ‘really big request’, asking if there might not be someone among his poetic friends who could undertake an adaptation of Undine, as Hitzig knew quite well that Hoffmann himself was not at all good at writing verse, and would have much trouble fashioning an opera from a source text originally in prose.174 Ludwig’s argument against writing libretti himself immediately comes to mind! A month later, an exalted Hoffmann wrote in his diary that Baron Fouqué himself would take on the task, as he had just learned in a letter from Hitzig.175 Three days later, he sent Fouqué an outline that summarized the events scene by scene and indicated the progress of the musical numbers. The same day he also sent a letter to Hitzig, expressing his joy about the collaboration with Fouqué and the hopeful request that Hitzig please remind the poet ‘daß vorzüglich gedrängte Kürze bey Opernsujets nöthig sey’ (‘that condensed brevity is of the essence for an operatic subject’).176 In case Fouqué had difficulty composing texts for the trios, quartets etc. he could recommend any libretto by Schikaneder in this respect, because the latter had a great feeling for the formal structure that was most suitable for musical composition. Again, the discussion between Ludwig and Ferdinand is easily recognizable, although Hoffmann was apparently too considerate to approach Fouqué directly with his requests. Fouqué sent Hoffmann the exposition of the opera before the end of August, and promised to complete the libretto soon. In his response, Hoffmann reiterated his complete trust in Fouqué’s judgment in elaborating the text, but draws his attention once more to three musical climaxes he must observe: ‘[…] da sind es besonders drey musik[alische] Massen, die, in näherer Beziehung aufeinander, das ganze Wesen der Oper aussprechend auf den Zuhörer mächtig wirken sollen; nehmlich der Sturm im ersten Akt, das zweite und dritte Finale’. (‘There are especially three musical concentrations in close relationship to one another, which, while expressing the total essence of the opera, are supposed to make a powerful impression

173 Letter to Hitzig of 1 July 1812, Briefwechsel, I, p.339; Selected Letters, p.170. 174 Letter of 15 July 1812, Briefwechsel, I, p.342. 175 Tagebücher, 12 August 1812, p.169. 176 Letter of 15 August 1812, Briefwechsel, I, p.348; Selected Letters, p.174. 216 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera on the audience: the storm in the first act, the second act finale, and the third finale’.)177 Hoffmann’s diary reports the arrival of the complete libretto on 14 November, with the comment ‘magnificent masterwork’, and his reading of it to Kunz in the evening.178 The libretto in fact exceeded his expectations, as he later admitted in a letter to Hitzig, especially regarding the verses and the structure of the musical numbers, which were most suitable for musical composition. Although Fouqué lacked any experience in libretto writing, this demonstrated, according to Hoffmann, his true and profound poetic genius. As a composer, he counted himself extremely fortunate since he was not aware of any other German libretto of this quality.179 Two years later, he would repeat his praise: ‘Es ist doch ein gar herrliches Gedicht des prächtigen Fouqué und ich wüßte in der That kein einziges Operngedicht, das ich der Undine an die Seite setzen könte’. (‘It is a splendid poem by the magnificent Fouqué, and I can really think of no other operatic poem that would compare with Undine’.)180 Although Hoffmann’s outline of the operatic structure he had sent to Fouqué has been lost, it is evident that Hoffmann himself played a significant role in writing the libretto. Fouqué later remembered that the collaboration had gone smoothly. He had left the entire scenario to Hoffmann, and had diligently followed this outline except for adding an aria or duo here and there.181 In a letter to his friend Carl Borromäus von Miltitz, Fouqué remarked that Hoffmann’s part in the operatic concept of Undine was such that he would do Hoffmann a terrible injustice by changing even one line.182 Hoffmann, however, made many changes to Fouqué’s libretto while he was composing the opera.183 On the other hand, Hoffmann accepted some of Fouqué’s ideas as well. As an example, Hoffmann had intended to begin the opera with a romance sung by the fisherman but Fouqué had written a trio instead, as the opening number; this was an idea that Hoffmann readily accepted, especially since

177 Letter of 4 October 1812, Briefwechsel, I, p.354; Selected Letters, p.177. 178 Tagebücher, p.182. 179 Letter of 30 November 1812, Briefwechsel, I, pp.358-359. 180 Letter of 8 June 1814 to Hitzig, Briefwechsel, I, p.470; Selected Letters, p.233. 181 Fouqué: ‘Erinnerungen an E. T. A. Hoffmann’ (1839), Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, pp.202, 203. 182 Letter of 24 January 1817, Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.375-376. 183 Hoffmann’s manuscript has been lost since World War II, but as far as they are known today, Hoffmann’s changes to Fouqué’s libretto are clearly indicated in Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/2: Die Elixiere des Teufels/Undine/Musikalische Schriften. Werke 1814-1816, ed. by Hartmut Steinecke and Gerhard Allroggen (1988), pp.467-518 with commentary pp.670-683. Poet and Composer 217 the verses were so suitable for composition ‘daß ich gleich bey dem Lesen, das Terzett sang und komponirte’ (‘that even while reading the trio I sang and scored it’).184 With respect to the composition of Undine it seemed that poet and composer had found the right balance, each leaving the other enough room to unfold the possibilities in his own art.185 In this respect, Hoffmann himself is again closer to Ludwig’s statements in the dialogue than to Ferdinand’s suggestion that composers write their own libretti. Such shared insights, however, are not sufficient for interpreting the dialogue as a poetics of Hoffmann’s opera Undine. As we have seen, the dialogue hardly touches on music, instead addressing concerns about the theoretical discourse on opera and the deplorable quality of most German libretti. As will be shown in Chapter Four, the opera does not comply fully with any of the dramatic concepts that Ludwig laid out in the dialogue.186 The smooth blending of comic and tragic elements, in particular, that was so admired by Ludwig and Ferdinand in truly Romantic works, is not found in Undine, nor does the work possess the tragic heroism of Gluck’s operas. Undine, however, does portray the conflict between the supernatural and the

184 Letter of 4 October 1812 to Fouqué, Briefwechsel, I, p.354; Selected Letters, p.177. 185 Hoffmann did have some experience in writing libretti himself: Die Maske (Singspiel in 3 acts, 1799), Der Renegat (Singspiel in 2 acts [fragment], 1804), Faustina (Singspiel in 1 act, [fragment], 18?), Liebe und Eifersucht (or Die Schärpe und die Blume, Singspiel in 3 acts after A. W. Schlegel’s translation of Calderón’s La Banda y la Flor, 1807/1808), Die Pilgerin (‘Ländliches Schauspiel’ in 1 act, 1808), Wiedersehn! (Prologue in 1 act, 1809). As is obvious from the list, Hoffmann refrained from libretto writing in his later operatic endeavors. 186 By subsuming the comic and tragic genre into Romantic opera and assigning an ‘inaugural role’ of Gluck’s tragic operas in the latter’s emergence, Abigail Chantler concludes that Hoffmann promoted an entirely eclectic repertory of Romantic opera (Chantler, E. T. A. Hoffmann’s Musical Aesthetics, pp.127-141). Based on his allegorical reading, Daverio, to the contrary, concludes that Hoffmann seems to be saying ‘that tragic opera [...] and comic opera [...] are distinct and clearly definable genres [...]. Romantic opera, on the other hand, [...] should extend beyond the confining bounds of genre’. (Daverio, ‘E. T. A. Hoffmann’s Allegory of Romantic Opera’, p.132.) The reason for these diverging conclusions lies in the elusive concept of the ‘Romantic’. Since Hoffmann interpreted music as the language of the extraordinary, one would assume that operas in all genres could theoretically partake in the Romantic realm (if they abstained from domestic or sentimental subjects). Hoffmann, however, never called Gluck or Spontini ‘Romantic’. From the dialogue, we learn that ‘Romantic’ works of art combine both tragic and comic elements, a combination which is absent from the tragic operas of Gluck and Spontini. But neither Hoffmann nor Ludwig defines ‘Romantic opera’ in musical terms, as we have seen, nor are exemplary works mentioned apart from Die Zauberflöte and Don Giovanni. Rather than offering ‘an eclectic repertory’ of Romantic opera, no repertory is offered at all, nor is the concept further explained apart from subject matter. 218 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera human world, presenting ‘the influence of higher natures on our lives’. As we will see in Chapter Four, Hoffmann’s changes to the libretto especially emphasized this aspect of the drama. We do not know exactly when Hoffmann began writing the score to Undine. In his account to Hitzig of 30 November 1812, he went to a coffeehouse every evening to compose, but his most inspiring moments came later in the evening at the piano at home. According to his diary, however, he did not begin composing until 14 February 1813, or even 1 July, after moving to Leipzig. Soon after beginning the second act in early November, reports of his compositional activities do not appear in the diary until mid June 1814. By the end of the month, Act II was ready and the score for all three acts was completed on 5 August. Hoffmann had already started to consider possibilities for staging the opera, and was confident he could oversee a performance in Würzburg, where his friend Franz von Holbein had become theater manager.187 Subsequently, he felt, it would be easy to arrange performances in Frankfurt, Mannheim, Darmstadt, Vienna, and probably in Berlin. After his move to Dresden and Leipzig, and Holbein’s departure from the Würzburg theater, these options were no longer viable. In March 1814, however, anticipating the allied victory over France, he was dreaming of returning to Berlin and eventually even acquiring a position at the theater.188 Reality appeared far less rosy. He had been dismissed from his post by Seconda in February, and his letter to Hitzig in early June sounded less optimistic. Here he explained that the company under Seconda was deteriorating by the day, and would certainly not be up to a performance of Undine, and he inquired whether Hitzig saw a possibility for staging the work in Berlin.189 Thanks to his old friend Theodor Gottlieb von Hippel, Hoffmann obtained a position at the Supreme Court in an advisory capacity and without pay, to begin 1 October 1814.190 The day after his arrival in

187 Letter to Hitzig of 30 November 1812, Briefwechsel, I, pp.357, 359. 188 ‘Nur so viel: Auf eine ganz unerwartete Weise ist mir eine aüßerst ehrenvolle glänzende Laufbahn in der Kunst in meinem Vaterlande eröffnet worden! […] Alles hängt aber noch von dem Eintritt gewisser Umstände in Berlin ab. – Nach dem Frieden ein Mehreres! – Wer weiß auf welchem Stuhl ich künftigen Sommer sitze!’ (‘Only this much: In a totally unexpected way an exceedingly honorable, splendid career in art opened up to me in my native province! [...] But everything still depends on the realization of certain conditions in Berlin. More after the signing of the peace! Who knows what chair I am going to occupy next summer!’) Letter to Kunz of 24 March 1814, Briefwechsel, I, p.457; Selected Letters, p.227. 189 Letter of 8 June 1814, Briefwechsel, I, pp.469-470. 190 Hoffmann’s letter to Hippel (7 July 1814) is formulated with patriotic fervor: ‘Fortwährend trug ich den sehnlichsten Wunsch in mir, wieder im preußischen Staate Poet and Composer 219

Berlin, Hoffmann would meet his librettist Fouqué for the first time and two years later their opera Undine would première in the Prussian capital.191 The Berlin theater, where the première took place, was just beginning its transformation under the new leadership of Count Karl von Brühl, who succeeded Iffland as theater director. The introduction to Part II addresses the new developments at the Berlin stage, which created the preconditions for the performance of Undine discussed in Chapter Four.

angestellt zu werden […]’ (‘All along I have had the most ardent desire to reenter service in the Prussian State’.) Briefwechsel, I, p.475; Selected Letters, p.234. This was intentionally done, however, in case Hippel would have to produce the letter. Hippel to Hitzig, fall 1824, Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen p.273. 191 Tagebücher, 27 July 1814, p.255.

ACT II

BACK IN BERLIN: BALANCING ACTS AS ARTIST AND CRITIC

(1814-1822)

Prelude Brühl and the Berlin Theater

Following the death of scenographer Bartolomeo Verona in 1813, the young and promising architect Karl Friedrich Schinkel proposed a radical redesign of the theater in his application for the now-vacant position.1 Schinkel envisioned incorporating the scenery as part of an artistic theatrical whole, feeling that its main function should be to reinforce the dramatic action of the play and to fire the audience’s imagination. To that end, he advocated broadening and decorating the proscenium, and replacing all of the coulisses and soffits with backcloths. Lighting should come from above (rather than from below, as was the custom) and the orchestra should be lowered into a pit, making it less visible and enabling the instruments to blend together more effectively for more harmonious sound.2 With these reforms, Schinkel believed, the scenic effects would be more natural and the scenery itself would be less costly and elaborate. Iffland, however, decided to hire Peter Ludwig Burnat (1762-1817) as the new stage designer, presumably on the basis of Burnat’s previous experience as stage designer for the Italian opera in the court theater. After Iffland’s death the following year, an interim management team consisting of established actors and administrators led the theater until Count Carl Friedrich Moritz Paul von Brühl (1772-1837) was appointed Intendant General in January 1815.3 This appointment signaled an important shift in theater politics: Instead of relying on a professional actor with theatrical experience such as Iffland, a nobleman from King Friedrich Wilhelm III’s inner circle would now oversee the performing arts in the Prussian capital. Count von Brühl was a well-educated man and was well versed in the arts. He had spent time in Weimar on several occasions, and was acquainted with Goethe, Wieland, Herder, and Schiller. He had also performed as an amateur actor in Weimar court productions such as Schiller’s Don Carlos and Goethe’s Paläophron und Neoterpe. As Chamberlain in

1 Scenographer, painter, and architect Karl Friedrich Schinkel (1781-1841) is remembered today primarily for the buildings he designed in and around Berlin, such as the Neue Wache (1816-1818), the Schauspielhaus at the Gendarmenmarkt (1818- 1821), and the Altes Museum on the Museumsinsel (1823-1830). 2 Ulrike Harten, Die Bühnenentwürfe. Überarbeitet von Helmut Börsch-Supan und Gottfried Riemann. Karl Friedrich Schinkel. Lebenswerk, XVII, ed. by Helmut Börsch-Supan and Gottfried Riemann (Munich: Deutscher Kunstverlag, 2000), pp.33-41. 3 Brühl was officially appointed on 15 January 1815 and took office on 23 February. Harten, Die Bühnenentwürfe, p.118. 224 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera the service of Prince Heinrich of Prussia in Rheinsberg and later to the Queen Mother Friederike, he continued to organize and participate in theater performances. Brühl also made several educational trips that brought him to Paris and he was especially eager to expand his knowledge and experience in theatrical matters on those occasions. Brühl had expressed his interest in succeeding Iffland as Directeur des spectacles at the latter’s death in 1814, hence his appointment the following year came as no surprise. Like many of his contemporaries, Brühl believed in the educational mission of the theater. In his preface to Neue Kostüme auf den beiden Königlichen Theatern in Berlin (New Costumes at the Two Royal Theaters in Berlin, 1819) he explained his view of his new role:

Prachtwerke werden zu Tage gefördert über Sitten, Gebräuche, Kleidungen, Gegenden und Pflanzen aller Länder; – und werden emsig studirt! Warum soll nicht auch die Bühne ein unterrichtendes lebendes Bild werden voller characteristischer Wahrheit? Der Dichter sucht nach Eigenthümlichkeit und Characteristik zu streben, warum soll der Bühnen-Director ihn darin nicht unterstützen? – […] Warum soll die Bühne nur stets unsere Sinne reitzen, unsere Leidenschaften erregen, oder unser Zwerchfell erschüttern?

(Great splendid works appear on customs, habits, costumes, regions, and plants of all countries; – and are studied diligently! Why should the stage not also become an educative, lively picture full of characteristic truth? Since the playwright strives for peculiarities and characteristics, why should he not be supported in this pursuit by the stage director? – […] Why should the stage only stimulate our senses, arouse our passions, or have a side-splitting effect?)4

Brühl was convinced that his role as Intendant General should be as an educator: The theater should not only evoke laughter or tears but should also impart knowledge and wisdom to its audience. This responsibility, he believed, weighed even more urgently on the theater of the nation’s capital, as he eloquently explained in the conclusion of his preface: ‘Die Bühne einer grossen Hauptstadt, ist in dieser Hinsicht mit den übrigen Kunstlehranstalten, Bilder-Gallerien, Museen u. s. w. vollkommen in eine Cathegorie zu stellen’. (‘The stage of a great capital can be placed entirely in the same category in this respect with other educational art institutes, picture galleries, museums, etc.’)5 Although the theater in Berlin had improved considerably under Iffland, Brühl realized that much work still lay

4 Carl Graf von Brühl, Neue Kostüme auf den beiden Königlichen Theatern in Berlin unter der General-Intendantur des Herrn Grafen von Brühl, 3 vols (Berlin: Wittich, 1819-1831), I (1819), Vorwort, [pp.1, 2]. 5 Brühl, Neue Kostüme, I, [p.4]. Brühl and the Berlin Theater 225 ahead. He began by engaging first-rate actors for the Berlin theater. One of the first was Ludwig Devrient (1784-1832), who had been discovered a few years earlier by Iffland. Devrient made his Berlin début on 1 April 1815 as Franz Moor in Schiller’s Die Räuber, and earned great admiration in subsequent productions, especially for his Shakespeare interpretations in the roles of Lear, Shylock, Macbeth, and Falstaff. Brühl also hired Pius Alexander Wolff (1782-1828) and his wife Amalie Wolff-Malcolmi (1780-1851), thus acquiring the most promising representatives of the Weimar school of acting, much to Goethe’s dismay, who had now lost his two best actors to Berlin. Wolff débuted in Berlin as Hamlet on 23 April 1816 and was quickly appointed stage director as well. In his new capacity as director and principal actor, he introduced the Weimar acting style to the Berlin stage, with its precise, controlled diction and dignified gestures. Brühl was able to attract talented opera singers as well, including Anna Milder-Hauptmann (in 1816), for whom Beethoven had created his Leonore, a role she had sung at the première of all three versions in Vienna (1805, 1806, 1814).6 In Berlin, her work in the operas of Gluck and Spontini drew broad acclaim. Other talented singers whom Brühl was able to win for Berlin were sopranos Caroline Seidler-Wranitzky and Johanna Eunike, baritone Eduard Devrient, and tenor Carl Adam Bader.7 Another technique that Brühl used for improving the Berlin stage was increasing the number of guest performances by famous singers, such as Angelica Catalani and Wilhelmine Schröder-Devrient.8 At the beginning of his tenure as theater

6 Anna Milder-Hauptmann (1785-1838) studied with Sigismund von Neukomm and Antonio Salieri. She was engaged at Schikaneder’s Theater an der Wien in 1803, but soon moved to the Kärntnertortheater. In 1806, Luigi Cherubini composed the role of Faniska for her. She sang at the Berlin opera from 1816 to 1829. Her voice was esteemed by many as representing the embodiment of the German ideal of singing (see Andreas Mayer, ‘“Gluck’sches Gestöhn” und “welsches Larifari”. Anna Milder, Franz Schubert und der deutsch-italienische Opernkrieg’, Archiv für Musikwissenschaft, 52: 3 (1995), 171-204.) 7 Caroline Seidler-Wranitzky (1790-1872) would sing Agathe in the première of Carl Maria von Weber’s Der Freischütz in 1821. She was the daughter of composer Anton Wranitzky, conductor at the Viennese court theaters and Kapellmeister at the Theater an der Wien. Johanna Eunike (1798-1856) sang the role of Undine in Hoffmann’s opera (1816) and Ännchen in Weber’s Freischütz (1821). Her father, Friedrich Eunike, was also employed by the Berlin opera. Eduard Devrient (1801-1877), nephew of Ludwig Devrient, was a singer, actor, and author. Carl Adam Bader’s (1789-1870) talent had been discovered by Hoffmann and Franz von Holbein in Bamberg, where Bader débuted in 1810. 8 Angelica Catalani (1780-1849) made her début in Venice, and over the course of thirty years sang at all of the great opera houses throughout Europe. Wilhelmine 226 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera manager, Brühl’s innovations were met with distrust and opposition, especially by his own actors. As a courtier to Prussian royalty, he was viewed as a representative of the nobility who could not understand the lives and needs of civilian artists. His reforms, along with the new actors he had hired, seemed to be undermining their positions. When Brühl became theater manager, Goethe asked Carl Friedrich Zelter to keep him updated regularly on theatrical developments in Berlin.9 On 8 November 1815 Zelter wrote: ‘Unsre Theaterleute finden sich von der neuen Direktion wenig erbaut und klagen ohne Ausnahme. Wahrscheinlich sucht Brühl sich von ihnen unabhängig zu machen indem er fremde Schauspieler anhero ruft […]’. (‘Our theater folk are not very happy about the new management and are complaining endlessly. Brühl is probably trying to make himself independent from them by attracting foreign actors here’.)10 Brühl was able to improve his standing significantly among the actors, however, through his efforts to obtain salary increases and pensions for them. But his hands were tied in this regard and he could not institute any new measures without the permission of the King, who informed him of his decisions through Chancellor Karl August von Hardenberg.11 Brühl’s relationship with the court quickly deteriorated after Hardenberg’s death in 1822. Hardenberg’s successor, the reactionary Count Wilhelm Ludwig Georg Sayn-Wittgenstein, took away more of Brühl’s authority by instituting a curatorship for the theater, and his ongoing bureaucratization finally prompted the Intendant’s resignation in 1828.

Schröder-Devrient (1804-1860) made her début as Pamina at the Viennese court opera in 1821, and was employed at the court opera in Dresden from 1822-1847. Here, she sang the title roles in Weber’s Euryanthe (1824), and Wagner’s Rienzi (1842), Der fliegende Holländer (1843), and Tannhäuser (1845). 9 Letter of 17 May 1815: ‘Zuvörderst also ersuche ich, mir vom Theater von Zeit zu Zeit Nachricht zu geben, denn da ich mit dem Grafen Brühl, den ich als Knaben gekannt, in gutem Verhältnisse stehe, da es, durch seine Bemühung, mit dem Epimenides so gut abgelaufen, so möchte ich ihm gern etwas zu Liebe tun, und überhaupt mit dem Berliner Theater im Einverständnis bleiben’. (‘First of all, please let me have some news of the theatre from time to time; for as I am on good terms with Count Brühl, whom I knew as a boy, and as the success of Epimenides was due to his exertions, I should like to do him a favour, and in a general way, to remain on good terms with the Berlin Theatre’.) MA, XX/1, p.380; Byrne Bodley, Goethe and Zelter, p.187. 10 8 November 1815, MA, XX/1, p.396. 11 Karl August von Hardenberg (1750-1822) became Prussian chancellor in 1810 and began to implement the second stage of the administrative, economic, educational and social reforms that he had inaugurated in 1807 in collaboration with Karl Freiherr vom und zum Stein (1757-1831). Hardenberg represented Prussia at the Congress of Vienna in 1815. Brühl and the Berlin Theater 227

The court’s increased control of the theater had, in fact, begun earlier and was part of a broader set of reactionary measures imposed after the Congress of Vienna and especially after the Carlsbad Decrees of 1819. People were disappointed by a political system from which they were completely excluded, notwithstanding the earlier promises to the contrary made during the Wars of Liberation. The theater became the only place where the public could gather and discuss matters of common interest, thus making theatrical activities important indicators of public opinion. For the rulers, accordingly, this was all the more reason to keep an eye on all theatrical developments. The King himself loved the theater and attended performances almost daily. He did not hide his preference for light, humorous pieces rather than tragedies or plays that could be related to contemporary politics or institutions. A letter from the King to Brühl in 1822 emphasizes his concerns in this respect:

Ich habe mißfällig bemerkt, daß in der letzern Zeit auf das hiesige Theater neue Stücke gebracht sind, welche […] Äußerungen über Einrichtungen enthalten, deren Kritik nicht auf die Bühne gehört. Ich gebe Ihnen daher auf, bei der Auswahl der neuaufzuführenden Theaterstücke mit besonderer Umsicht vorzugehen und bis auf Meine anderseitige Anordnung jedes neue Stück vor der ersten Aufführung im Manuskript dem Staatskanzler, welcher die weitere Prüfung veranlassen wird, vorzulegen.

(I have observed with dissatisfaction that our theater has been staging new plays lately, containing statements about institutions, which are not to be critized onstage. I therefore urge you to take a cautionary approach in choosing plays for future performances and until I decide otherwise to submit each new play in manuscript to the Chancellor before its first performance. He will take care of further examination in each case.)12

The King could also block performances, as he did for Heinrich von Kleist’s Prinz von Homburg in 1828.13 Brühl therefore had to walk a fine line, when selecting and scheduling performances, between acceding to the King’s preferences, satisfying the popular taste of the audience, and advancing his own educational mission for the theater. Although popular comedies by August von Kotzebue and operas by Mozart, Cherubini, Rossini, Méhul, and Boieldieu dominated the stage during Brühl’s tenure,

12 Marieluise Hübscher, Die königlichen Schauspiele zu Berlin unter der Intendanz des Grafen Brühl (1815 bis 1828), Inaugural-Dissertation, Freie Universität Berlin, 1960, p.143. 13 Marieluise Hübscher-Bitter, ‘Preußens theatralische Sendung. Die königlichen Schauspiele zu Berlin unter der Intendanz des Grafen Brühl 1815 bis 1828’, in Preußen. Dein Spree-Athen. Beiträge zu Literatur, Theater und Musik in Berlin, ed. by Hellmut Kühn (Reinbeck bei Hamburg: Rowohlt, 1981), pp.189-199 (p.199).

228 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera his agenda was nevertheless visible, and one of the first new works he brought to the stage was Goethe’s Des Epimenides Erwachen (Epimenides’ Awakening), which the poet had composed to celebrate Napoleon’s defeat and the return of Friedrich Wilhelm III. Many of Brühl’s new productions celebrated important royal occasions, such as Die Zauberflöte (18 January 1816), to commemorate the crowning, in 1701, of King Friedrich I, the first Prussian monarch, and Hoffmann’s Undine, Cherubini’s Lodoiska, and Henri- Montan Berton’s Aline, Reine de Golconde to celebrate the King’s birthday on 3 August 1816, 1818, and 1820, respectively. Brühl’s efforts to move in a new direction by presenting more classical works and promoting German artists were evident in his staging of Beethoven’s Fidelio (1815), despite the King’s aversion to the piece, Goethe’s Iphigenie auf Tauris (1816), Carl Maria von Weber’s Der Freischütz (1821), as well as his introduction of works by Calderón de la Barca (1816) and Heinrich von Kleist (1822) to the Berlin stage. Brühl was also involved in the first performance of scenes from Goethe’s Faust with music by Anton Radziwill on 24 May 1819. Although his choice of works was threatened by censorship, one aspect of Brühl’s reform plans, scenery and costumes, met with the court’s full approval. When Brühl took over the management of the theater, Chancellor Hardenberg had voiced the intention of the court as follows: ‘Machen Sie das beste Theater in Deutschland, und danach sagen Sie mir, was es kostet’. (‘Create the best theater in Germany and afterwards, please tell me what it costs’.)14 In the eyes of the court, owning the best theater in Germany would be effective propaganda for Prussia’s leadership and would project the glory and power of the Prussian King in the most important public space of the capital. Brühl also favored sumptuous sets and costumes, although for different reasons. In the preface to his Neue Kostüme of 1819, he wrote:

Warum soll unser Auge nicht auch durch die äussere Form in das Zeitalter oder das Land versetzt werden, wohin uns der Dichter durch sein Geistes-Product zu versetzen strebt? Warum soll das Publikum nicht im Theater Gelegenheit finden zu jeder Art von wissenschaftlicher Bildung?

(Why should our eye not also be transported through the external appearances [of the scenery and costumes] to the time period or country where the poet seeks to transport us with his brainchild? Why should the public not find the opportunity in the theater to take part in scientific education in every possible way?)15

14 Eduard Devrient, Geschichte der deutschen Schauspielkunst, In zwei Bänden neu herausgegeben von Rolf Kabel und Christoph Trilse (Munich: Langen Müller, 1967), II, p.96. 15 Brühl, Neue Kostüme, I, [p.2]. Brühl and the Berlin Theater 229

For Brühl, the theater presented an opportunity for people to gain knowledge about different historical periods and cultures. This interest in nature, history, architecture, and the culture of distant countries and continents was a common trend in the arts and sciences of his day. In his multi-volume series Le voyage aux régions équinoxiales du Nouveau Continent, fait en 1799-1804 (Paris, 1805-1837), Alexander von Humboldt, for example, had begun to publish his many observations and discoveries of the New World’s peoples, monuments, landscapes, flora, and fauna. By using such scientific information, the theater could play an important role in disseminating newly-acquired knowledge and insights. Moreover, according to Brühl, using impressive sets and costumes would attract more people to the theater and hence also acquaint them with more serious, classical authors and their works: ‘Anfänglich strömt die Menge nur hinzu um schöne Anzüge und Decorationen zu sehen, nach und nach gewöhnt sich dieselbe an die klassischen Schauspiele, lernt so den Dichter näher kennen, und wird allmälig dem Besseren näher gebracht’. (‘At first, the crowd will flock to the theater only to look at the beautiful costumes and scenery sets, but over time, they will become accustomed to the classical plays, will become more acquainted with the poet[s], and gradually will become familiar with higher art forms’.)16 Costumes and stage design, Brühl believed, could thus contribute to teaching the audience about various historical periods, exotic landscapes, and cultures while improving its literary taste. To achieve this new style and function of stage design, Schinkel seemed to be an ideal partner to Brühl: ‘Unser Schinkel ist für wahr ein wirklicher Zauberer und ich habe mit seiner Hilfe angefangen, das ganze bisher bestandene System der Decorationsmalerei über den Haufen zu werfen […]’. (‘Our Schinkel truly is a genuine magician, and with his help, I have started to overthrow the whole system of scenery painting as it had existed thus far […]’.)17 While Iffland had been skeptical towards Schinkel’s proposals for making radical changes to the principles of stage design, Brühl embraced Schinkel’s ideas and consulted him on all major projects. Brühl and Schinkel shared the view that scenery should represent both high artistic quality and historical and cultural accuracy. Schinkel had studied landscapes and architecture thoroughly during his extensive travels through Europe, particularly in Italy.18 His twin talents in painting and architecture offered an

16 Brühl, Neue Kostüme, I, [p.3]. 17 Harten, Die Bühnenentwürfe, p.51. 18 He was also familiar with travelogues and other publications on exotic places and cultures. Ruth Freydank, for example, discusses Alexander von Humboldt’s Pittoreske

230 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera ideal combination for designing stage scenery. Between 1815 and 1829, Schinkel furnished Brühl with 123 stage designs for a total of forty-five works, among them Die Zauberflöte, Undine, and other important performances for royal occasions, and also lesser-known works, to help attract attention and reach a broader audience.19 When the theater burned to the ground on 29 July 1817, with the fire destroying all of its sets, machinery, and costumes, Brühl asked permission to construct a new theater atop the old foundations, and suggested Schinkel as architect. King Friedrich Wilhelm agreed to these plans, especially since Schinkel’s design matched the King’s own wishes: The new theater would remain considerably smaller than the court opera but would include a large concert hall that could be used for representative occasions and celebrations as well. Construction of the new building began on 4 August 1818, and the theater opened in 1821. Replacing the old theater not only meant a broader range of options for the court’s display of power, but also that Schinkel could finally implement his reform ideals for theatrical space and scenery;20 moreover, Brühl now had an opportunity to indulge his passion and invest in historical costumes. Under Brühl’s influence, Schinkel developed increasingly-detailed and characteristic stage designs, especially after 1819. Nonetheless, the increasing richness and historical accuracy of the stage designs and costumes, which increasingly became the primary focus of the performances, in the end also restricted the viewer’s imagination. Ever- rising costs, in turn, led to tighter control of the theater’s finances and, in consequence, Brühl’s diminishing influence on the stage productions. Brühl’s success in mounting Undine, however, which marked the beginning of his intendancy, was made possible only by close cooperation between Brühl and his artists.

Ansichten der Cordilleren (1810) as a possible inspiration for Schinkel’s Zauberflöte designs. Ruth Freydank, Theater in Berlin. Von den Anfängen bis 1945 (Berlin: Henschelverlag Kunst und Gesellschaft, 1988), pp.187, 190. 19 A complete list can be found in: Harten, Die Bühnenentwürfe, pp.100-101. 20 Nevertheless, Schinkel still had to compromise significantly to comply with the King’s wishes (low costs, modest dimensions of the stage) and Brühl’s ideas for the interior design. See, for further details, Douglas E. Bomberger, ‘The Neues Schauspielhaus in Berlin and the Premiere of Carl Maria von Weber’s “Der Freischütz”’, in Opera in Context: Essays on Historical Staging from the Late Renaissance to the Time of Puccini, ed. by Mark A. Radice (Portland, Oregon: Amadeus Press, 1998), pp.147-169; Endnotes pp.341-345.

Chapter Four ‘Patriotic Acts’: Undine on the Berlin Stage ossia Accomplishments of a Trio (Fouqué, Hoffmann, and Schinkel)

Preparing the Stage

Hoffmann came to Berlin from Leipzig on 26 September 1814, and within two days of his arrival, he wrote to his friend, Carl Friedrich Kunz, expressing his joy and optimism at Brühl’s impending appointment: ‘[…] der Graf Brühl, ein herrlicher wahrhaft nach unserer Weise gesinnter Mann wird Intendant des Theaters, und diesem steht eine große Revolution bevor, an der ich Theil nehme, wenigstens mittelbar’. (‘Count Brühl, a magnificent man after our own heart, will become director of the theater, and there will be a revolution in which I shall take part, at least indirectly’.)1 Hoffmann, accordingly, expected radical theatrical changes under Brühl’s management. He reveals more about his expectations for his own ‘indirect’ role in a letter to Hippel: ‘Wahrscheinlich komt, sobald nur der Graf Brühl als Intendant angekommen, Undine, jedoch nicht unter meinem Nahmen, auf das hiesige Theater –’. (‘As soon as Count Brühl arrives as director, Undine will probably reach the stage, but not under my name—’.)2 Although Hoffmann had not yet earned a reputation as a composer, he apparently had reason to believe that Brühl would be interested in his work. These hopes might have been raised by Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué, author of the romance Hoffmann had used for his opera, who seemed optimistic about realizing such a performance as well.3 Fouqué, moreover,

1 Letter of 28 September 1814, Briefwechsel, II: Berlin, 1814-1822 (1968), p.24; Selected Letters, p.238. 2 Letter of 1 November 1814, Briefwechsel, II, p.28; Selected Letters, p.240. The fact that he expected his opera to be performed under another name was most likely caused by his return to a legal career at court, where his superiors had little understanding of or sympathy for artists or the arts in general, as Hoffmann explained earlier in his letter. The irreconcilability of artistic endeavors and a high position at court is clearly expressed in his letter to Hippel of 18 July 1815, in which he expresses his relief at hearing he would be employed merely as a forwarding clerk (Expedient) rather than as a councilor (Rath), since this would allow him to indulge in writing and composing, ‘which would be suspect in a councillor’. Briefwechsel, II, p.63; Selected Letters, p.252. 3 Fouqué’s letter of 16 October 1814 to his friend, the composer and author Carl Borromäus von Miltitz: ‘Das [Undine] ist ein herrliches Werk! In den nun zu erwartenden Verhältnissen unsrer Bühne haben wir Hoffnung, es bald auf das

232 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera was well connected at court, and the new intendant Brühl held theatrical views that were quite similar to Hoffmann’s. Both Hoffmann and Brühl wanted to see more works from the classical repertoire on the stage, admired Calderón de la Barca, and shared a lively interest in stage design. While working as dramatic adviser and stage designer for the Bamberg Theater, Hoffmann had persuaded the director Franz von Holbein to stage three dramas by Calderón: La Devoción de la Cruz (Die Andacht zum Kreuze, 1637), El Príncipe constante (Der standhafte Prinz, 1629), and La Puente de Mantible (Die Brücke von Mantible, 1630). Hoffmann had been involved in designing, building, and painting the scenery for these dramas and published an account of the performances in an essay entitled ‘Ueber die Aufführung der Schauspiele des Calderon de la Barca auf dem Theater in Bamberg’ (‘On the Performance of Calderón de la Barca’s Plays at the Bamberg Theater’) in the journal Die Musen.4 He pointed out that theater directors had not yet recognized the value of these works or of A. W. Schlegel’s brilliant translations,5 and he praised the efforts of the Weimar stage (without naming Goethe) to elevate the German theater, and to have been the first to stage Calderón’s Der standhafte Prinz.6 Bamberg was now the second theater to introduce Calderón de la Barca in Germany and Hoffmann enthusiastically described the stage designs used for these performances, emphasizing the importance of the scenery in acquainting the audience with unfamiliar works such as these. He was convinced that if they were provided with the necessary spectacles, Calderón’s ingenious masterpieces would eventually help develop the artistic taste of the audience.7 Hoffmann thus shared Brühl’s view on the theater’s educational value. Following Weimar’s example, Brühl, too, would introduce Calderón de la Barca to the Berlin stage with Der standhafte Prinz for the crown prince’s birthday celebration on 15 October 1816.8 When Brühl took office as theater manager, Fouqué congratulated him in a letter, expressing the high expectations that his appointment had raised,

Theater zu bringen’. (‘It [Undine] is a marvelous work! Given the new circumstances to be expected at our theater, we have every reason to hope that it will soon be staged’.) Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.284. 4 Die Musen. Eine norddeutsche Zeitschrift. Herausgegeben von Friedrich Baron de la Motte Fouqué und Wilhelm Neumann, Drittes Quartal, 1812, 157-167. 5 August Wilhelm Schlegel published the first volume of his Calderón translations in 1803. The second volume of his Spanisches Theater appeared in 1809. 6 30 January 1811, with Wolff in the title role. 7 Schriften zur Musik. Nachlese, p.601. 8 Dramaturgisches Wochenblatt, no. 20 (16 November 1816), p.160. As in Weimar, Wolff was again in the role of the prince. Undine 233 and bringing Undine to his attention. In inquiring whether Brühl considered the work suitable for the Berlin stage, he did not fail to point out the support of the Royal princes and princesses for his opera.9 Fouqué passed the letter on to Hoffmann, who in turn sent it to Brühl, together with his own letter and the completed opera text (24 February 1815). A letter to Hippel from this period (12 March 1815) reveals how important a successful performance would be for Hoffmann personally:

Meine Oper Undine, die der Major Fouqué dem p. Brühl überreicht hat, kommt höchst wahrscheinlich auf das Theater. […] Fouqué hat der Prinzessin Wilhelm, so wie dem Kronprinzen von der Oper erzählt, beide interessiren sich dafür, und so könnte ich vielleicht, gefällt meine Oper, hohe Protektionen gewinnen, und dadurch in eine angenehme Künstlerlage versezt werden, d.h. TheaterComponist oder Capellmeister werden! – Beide hier offene CapellStellen werden nehmlich vor der Hand nicht besezt.

(My opera Undine, which Major Fouqué handed over to Brühl, will probably be staged. […] Fouqué told the Princess Wilhelm and the Crown Prince about the opera; both are interested in it, and therefore, if the opera pleases, I might win high patronage and thereby be put into an agreeable position as an artist; that is, I could become theater composer or conductor. The two vacancies for the position of conductor are not being filled for the present.)10

Although he was aware how slim his chances were for such an appointment—‘vor der Hand kaum mehr als ein Traum’ (‘nothing but a dream, for the time being’)—his reluctance to return to a bureaucratic career was a recurring theme throughout the letter. If he did not have to take care of his wife, he assured Hippel, ‘[…] so würde ich lieber abermahls den musikalischen Schulmeister machen, als mich in der juristischen Walkmühle trillen lassen!’ (‘I would rather play the musical schoolmaster again than be put through the judicial mill!’)11 He would prefer to stay in Berlin in the capacity of expedient clerk, leaving him time for his artistic endeavors, or even go to Posen to gain time for framing his artistic dreams.12 After he had reported to Fouqué that Undine would be staged with new sets,13 he even dared to speculate about soon leaving the office ‘pour jamais!’14 When he

9 Letter of 15 February 1815, Briefwechsel, II, p.39. 10 Briefwechsel, II, pp.44-45; Selected Letters, p.244. 11 Briefwechsel, II, p.45; Selected Letters, p.244. 12 Briefwechsel, II, pp.43, 45, 47-49, 51-52. 13 Letter of 8 May 1815, Briefwechsel, II, p.50. 14 Letter to Fouqué of 14 May 1815 (Briefwechsel, II, p.54). Fouqué expressed similar hopes in a letter to Miltitz on 10 December 1815. Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, pp.318- 319.

234 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera learned he would not get a post in Posen after all, his letter to Kunz sounded almost relieved that he could therefore still become Kapellmeister any time. He added that he had been meeting with Brühl quite often lately because of Undine, which would be performed in the grand opera house in the fall as ‘Haupt und StaatsOper’, with new sets and machinery arranged by the architect Schinkel.15 Just three days later Brühl himself would write to Fouqué, complimenting him on his delicate and beautiful libretto which would certainly be most effective onstage, and promising to try to arrange for a performance in winter.16 In contrast to Hoffmann, Brühl did not mention Schinkel but rather voiced his concerns about the staging, noting that he could not guarantee a satisfactory solution to the difficult task that Fouqué had left for the machinist and scene designer.17 Hoffmann’s letter to Fouqué in late May reveals that Schinkel’s cooperation was more wishful thinking on Hoffmann’s part than a reality.18 He wrote to Brühl in early August, saying that he would appreciate it if he (Hoffmann) would be allowed to offer advice in matters of scenery and machinery for the forthcoming performance of Undine.19 Brühl then did turn to Hoffmann for ideas, as the poet confirmed in a letter to Fouqué, repeating his intention to seek Schinkel’s cooperation: ‘Wegen der UndineDekorationen ziehe ich Schinkel ins Interesse; vorzüglich soll er mir ein herrliches ächt gothisches Grabmahl bauen’. (‘I shall arouse Schinkel’s interest concerning the scenery for Undine. I especially want him to build me a magnificent, authentic Gothic tomb’.)20 Schinkel was officially asked by Brühl to provide the stage sets for Undine in December 1815, as a letter from Hoffmann to Kunz indicates.21 Although two operas featuring stage sets by Schinkel were scheduled to be performed before Undine—Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte (18 January 1816) and Méhul’s Ariodant (1 June 1816)—it is very likely that it was Hoffmann who

15 Letter of 24 May 1815, Briefwechsel, II, pp.57-58. 16 Letter of 27 May 1815, Briefwechsel, II, p.59. 17 Briefwechsel, II, p.59. 18 ‘Ich werde suchen Schinkel’n für die Sache zu gewinnen Rücksichts des Ordnens der Maschienen u.s.w.’ (‘I shall try to win Schinkel over in matters regarding the arrangement of the machinery, etc.’) Letter of 29 May 1815, Briefwechsel, II, p.61; Selected Letters, p.251. 19 Letter of 4 or 5 August 1815, Briefwechsel, II, p.69. 20 Letter of 16 August 1815, Briefwechsel, II, p.70; Selected Letters, p.254. 21 Hoffmann began his letter on 23 December 1815; the end of the letter is dated 1 January 1816. The letter’s concluding sentence states that Schinkel will arrange the stage sets for Undine, the costs of which are estimated at 8 to 10,000 Thaler. Briefwechsel, II, p.80. Undine 235 brought Schinkel to Brühl’s attention. The earliest correspondence between Brühl and Schinkel concerning Die Zauberflöte dates from early August 1815,22 while Hoffmann had already mentioned his preference for Schinkel in May. Given Hoffmann’s extensive experience in stage design, Schinkel seems to have welcomed his advice. In his letter to Adolph Wagner, Fouqué credits both Schinkel and Hoffmann with being responsible for Undine’s ‘ingenious decorations’.23 For various reasons, the staging of Undine was delayed repeatedly. Hoffmann had informed Speyer (18 July 1815) as well as the editors of the AMZ (5 October 1815) that Undine was currently being rehearsed for a performance to take place before the end of the year, but in reality he had sent only the first act to Brühl (5 August). Clean copies of the second and third act of the score would not follow until the end of January 1816. In an accompanying letter Hoffmann enthusiastically hailed the appointment of Schinkel as stage designer for Undine: ‘Ew. HochGebohren sagten mir, daß Sie die Anordnung der Dekorationen dem Baurath Schinkel übertragen hätten, ich wüßte in der That nicht, wer besser dazu geeignet seyn sollte, als dieser in das Wahrhaft Romantische so tief eindringende Künstler’. (‘You tell me, sir, you assigned the arrangement of the scenery to Schinkel. I really wouldn’t know who could be better suited than this artist, who so deeply penetrates the true spirit of the romantic’.)24 In the same letter, he also expressed his casting preferences for the opera and in particular urged Brühl to stage the opera as soon as possible, preferably in the spring, for which he had ‘ganz besondere tief in mein Leben eingehende Gründe’. (‘very special reasons that greatly affect my own life’.)25 These ‘special reasons’ were his hopes of yet securing a position as Kapellmeister. Undine’s première had been delayed partly due to Hoffmann’s own negligence since he had not delivered a clean copy of the full score in time, and also because Brühl had considered it safer to begin his own directorship and Schinkel’s début as stage designer with a famous masterwork (Die Zauberflöte) rather than with an opera by an unknown composer. The delay, however, suited Hoffmann’s ambitions, as he explained in a letter to Kunz: ‘Diese Zögerung bringt mir aber mehr

22 Harten, Die Bühnenentwürfe, p.118. 23 ‘Wäre Hoffmanns Musik nicht so trefflich, und hätte er sammt Schinkel nicht so geniale Decorationen ersonnen […]’ (‘If Hoffmann’s music had not been so admirable, and if he had not contrived such ingenious decorations together with Schinkel […]’). Letter of 31 May 1816, Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.326. Adolph Wagner translated Fouqué’s fairy tale into Italian: Ondina, fiaba da Federico Barone de la Motte Fouqué, tradotto in Italiano da Adolph Wagner (Leipzig, 1815). 24 Letter of 29 January 1816, Briefwechsel, II, p.87; Selected Letters, p.256. 25 Briefwechsel, II, p.86.

236 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Vortheil, als Schaden, da ich mich unter der Zeit künstlerisch fester gesezt, auch schon in einer kleinen Composition auf dem Theater reussirt habe’. (‘This delay however causes more benefit than harm, since I could establish myself more artistically and achieve success with a small composition in the theater’.)26 This ‘small composition’ that Hoffmann is referring to was the one-act Prologue Thassilo to commemorate the beginning, in 1415, of the reign of the House of Hohenzollern over the Margraviate of Brandenburg. Brühl had turned to Fouqué just two weeks before the scheduled performance, desperately requesting his help. Brühl had proposed the subject of Thassilo, founder of the Hohenzollern dynasty, and suggested setting it to existing melodies.27 Hoffmann was apparently present when this rush order arrived and offered to compose new music rather than using an ‘old’ setting.28 Thassilo was performed on 22 October 1815 in the grand opera house and was well received by the press. The references in the play (set during the era of Charlemagne) to Germany’s present-day situation did not go unnoticed. Thassilo was praised as the hero who had liberated the fatherland, bringing enduring peace by forging ties with other German rulers, comparable to the newly-founded German Confederation. The Haude- und Spenersche Zeitung singled out Thassilo’s lines: ‘Es wird kein Deutscher doch mit Landes- Brüdern, / Um irgend was auf Erden blutig hadern, / So lang der Landes- Bruder deutsch versteht. / Und deutsch verstehn, heißt Recht thun und Gott fürchten, / Und außer Gott nichts fürchten, wie’s auch aussieht’. (‘No German assuredly will enter a bloody fight with another German [‘brothers of the land’] about anything in the world, as long as he understands German. To understand German means to do justice and fear God, and, apart from God, fear nothing else, regardless of its appearance’.)29 Language is therefore a key

26 Letter of 23 December 1815, Briefwechsel, II, p.78. 27 Letter of 7 October 1815, Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.306. 28 Fouqué may also have agreed to Hoffmann’s offer to compose the music because he supported his aspirations for a position at the theater. In a letter to Miltitz, he effusively praised both the music of Undine (‘herrlich componirt’) and Thassilo (‘grandios’) and continued: ‘Im übrigen ist dieser geniale Mensch ein ganz realer Regierungsrath und arbeitet beim Kammergericht. Seine theatralischen Verhältnisse sind ganz wie die meinigen, unoffiziel. Möchte ihn Brühl anders anstellen können und wollen!’ (‘This ingenious person, by the way, is a real Regierungsrath who is working for the Supreme Court. His theatrical connections are, like mine, unofficial. Hopefully, Brühl is willing and able to appoint him more suitably’.) 10 December 1815, Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, pp.318-319. 29 Schnapp, ed., Der Musiker E. T. A. Hoffmann, p.415. The Dramaturgisches Wochenblatt also singled out these lines, explicitly emphasizing the significance of understanding Undine 237 element in defining the true German, tying a bond between them, the importance of which will become clear in the controversy around Gaspare Spontini (see Chapter Six). The words referring to a free Germany are emphasized as the prophetess crowns Thassilo with a wreath of oak leaves, making him and his successors ‘Zu Rittern des bedrängten Vaterlandes,/Des lieben, edlen, freien Deutsch- lands’ (‘knights of the embattled fatherland, of a dear, noble and free Germany’). The critic can’t refrain from commenting on how true the following line had become: ‘Vorfechten werdet Ihr, und uns erretten’. (‘You will fight a pioneering struggle for us, and we will be saved’.)30 With its references to a free fatherland and to the cultural ties uniting the German people, the Prologue was unquestionably written and received in the victorious spirit that prevailed after the Wars of Liberation. In the Vossische Zeitung, critic Samuel Heinrich Catel commended Hoffmann’s choral settings as ingenious music that made a deep impression on the listener, adding that it was the work of the local Regierungsrath H[er]r Hoffmann, who had already earned fame as an author.31 The Dramaturgisches Wochenblatt also praised the ‘tief ergreifende, geheimnißvoll- beziehungsreiche Musik vom Regierungsrath Hoffmann’ (‘deeply-moving, mysterious, and allusive music of Regierungsrath Hoffmann’), and the AMZ noted that Hoffmann’s ‘magnificent’ choral settings had been ‘masterfully’ composed.32 Fouqué soon expanded the Prologue into a one-act play to make it suitable as stock drama for Brühl.33 It was early January 1816, however, before Brühl would send the new text to Hoffmann, requesting an overture and four new choruses. Hoffmann composed the new music within a week but could not refrain from letting Brühl know how pressured he had felt in having to deliver his composition on such short notice.34 The play would not be performed until 18 January the following year and was only repeated once on 8 February. The spirit of the Wars of Liberation was now even further enhanced by the three songs that were subsequently performed following Thassilo, the texts of which were selected from Theodor Körner’s

German in compiling a ‘catechism of Germanhood’. Dramaturgisches Wochenblatt, no. 18 (4 November 1815), p.143. 30 Schnapp, ed., Der Musiker E. T. A. Hoffmann, p.416. 31 Schnapp, ed., Der Musiker E. T. A. Hoffmann, p.416. 32 Dramaturgisches Wochenblatt, no. 18 (4 November 1815), p.143; AMZ 17: 46 (15 November 1815), col.772. 33 Letter of Fouqué to Miltitz, 11 November 1815. Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.317. 34 Letters of 8 & 16 January, 1816, Briefwechsel, II, pp.84, 85.

238 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera collection of patriotic poems Leyer und Schwerdt (1814) set to music by Carl Maria von Weber.35 Still hopeful that his opera Undine would be staged in the spring of 1816, Hoffmann had urged the management to start rehearsing well in advance, since the choral parts, in particular, would need extra attention.36 Despite Hoffmann’s efforts, however, the première of Undine would not take place until 3 August 1816. In the meantime, and despite all of the latter’s efforts to secure the appointment, it was not Hoffmann but the famous cellist and composer Bernhard Heinrich Romberg and musician Joseph Augustin Gürlich who were appointed Kapellmeister at the Berlin theater.37 Hoffmann, for his part, was appointed to the Instruktionssenat of the Kammergericht (Supreme Court) on 22 April and became a member of the Kriminalsenat on 1 May, 1816.

Fouqué’s Undine

Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué’s Undine (1811) was composed during the French occupation and expresses the stirrings of German national self- awareness on various levels of the narrative. In tune with the Romantic movement that typified his era, Fouqué’s tale draws on old German myths, folk legends and fairytales. Clemens Brentano and Achim von Arnim had published their three-volume collection of German poems and songs Des Knaben Wunderhorn just a few years before (1805-1808), and the first edition of Grimms’ Kinder- und Hausmärchen would appear in 1812. Fouqué’s work not only evokes the world of medieval chivalry—with its knights, noblewomen, castles, and imperial city or Reichsstadt—but also locates the

35 The dramatist and poet Theodor Körner had joined the voluntary force of the Prussian Army’s Lützowsches Freikorps, also called the Lützower Jäger, in the uprising against Napoleon. After he died in combat, he became the symbol of the German patriotic movement. The return of the Prussian King to Berlin in the summer of 1814 had inspired Weber to compose a set of ten patriotic songs for unaccompanied male chorus from Theodor Körner’s collection. The three songs performed following Thassilo were Schwerdtlied, Gebet, and Lützow’s wilde Jagd. 36 Letter of 19 March 1816 to the director’s secretary Johann Friedrich Esperstedt, Briefwechsel, II, p.90. 37 Bernhard Heinrich Romberg (1767-1841); Joseph Augustin Gür(r)lich (1761-1817); They were appointed on 19 and 20 April 1816, respectively (see Wilhelm Altmann, ‘Spontini an der Berliner Oper. Eine archivalische Studie’, Sammelbände der Internationalen Musikgesellschaft, IV (1902-1903), 244-292 (pp.246 fn.3, 254-255). Brühl had advised against Romberg’s appointment because he considered his talents as a cellist far superior to his abilities as a conductor and composer. Undine 239 action near the sources of the Danube, and thus in the German-speaking medieval world.38 In his dedication to the second edition, Fouqué writes in the persona of a German minnesinger, who found his inspiration in ‘alten Kunden’ (old manuscripts/sources), and now sings Undine’s story accompanied by his zither. He invites Undine to trust the ‘lovely, beautiful German ladies’, and, when they inquire about the author, to tell them that he is a faithful knight, serving the ladies with sword and zither during dance, dinner, festivities and tournaments.39 On other levels, the tale of Undine also resembles a fairytale; for example, in its formulaic beginning and end (‘da gab es einmal’ (‘once upon a time’)) and the symbolic reccurrences of the number three. The tale’s plot develops in three stages: As a water nymph, Undine is part of nature: naïve, spontaneous, and uncontrollable. By marrying the knight Huldbrand, she enters human society and culture and becomes a housewife. When she finally returns to her element she becomes part of nature again; however, she has now gained a soul. The Romantic view of history is discernable from the tale’s plot: a past Golden Age is followed by a time of alienation (Entfremdung) and inner conflict—as evidenced in modern society—and is eventually succeeded by a reunion of man’s spirit and nature in a new Golden Age.40 The Romantic worldview is further expressed by the dynamic presence of Nature (especially in the forms of water and forest) as well as in the important role played by Christian redemption.41

38 Ringstetten castle, where part of the action takes place, is explicitly located at the ‘sources of the Danube’. (Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué, Undine (Stuttgart: Reclam, 2001), p.52.) Later, the protagonists embark on a voyage to Vienna on the Danube, in whose waters Undine will eventually disappear. 39 Fouqué, Undine, p.3. 40 In Undine’s depiction as a child, Ruth Fassbind-Eigenheer also notes parallels with the child in Novalis’s novel Die Lehrlinge zu Saïs (1798-1802). In the Romantic worldview, children embody a bygone pure, harmonious relationship with Nature, to be regained in a future utopian Golden Age. Undine’s childlike soul also symbolizes the spirit of Romantic poetry, which foreshadows the coming of a new Golden Age. Ruth Fassbind-Eigenheer, Undine oder die nasse Grenze zwischen mir und mir. Ursprung und literarische Bearbeitungen eines Wasserfrauenmythos. Von Paracelsus über Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué zu Ingeborg Bachmann (Stuttgart: Hans-Dieter Heinz, 1994), pp.92-98. 41 Undine’s demeanor after gaining a soul is described as ‘engelmild’ (‘mild as an angel’), and Huldbrand later recognizes her ‘himmlische Güte’ (‘heavenly kindness’, Fouqué, Undine, pp.42, 76). Her smile and kiss are called ‘himmlisch’, and the fisherman sees Huldbrand’s death as a part of ‘die Gerichte Gottes’ (‘the judgments of God’, Fouqué, Undine, pp. 92, 93).

240 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Fouqué himself mentioned Paracelsus’s Liber de nymphis, sylphis, pygmaeis et salamandris et de caeteris spiritibus as being the main inspiration for his tale.42 In this text, Paracelsus (Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim, 1493-1541) explored the nature of elemental spirits, popular in mythology, folklore, literature, and art: gnomes (earth elementals), undines (water elementals), sylphs (air elementals) and salamanders (fire elementals). According to Paracelsus, elemental spirits lack a soul but can acquire one by marrying a human being. Paracelsus’s synthesis of mysticism, anthropology, and natural philosophy was very appealing to the Romantic imagination. Paracelsus’s description of the water nymphs as alternately living on land among the people and returning to their springs and rivers immediately recalls the beginning of Fouqué’s Undine.43 One of the German sagas resembling the Undine plot is briefly summarized in Paracelsus’s book as well. This is the story of the knight Peter Dimringer von Staufenberg, which originated around 1310.44 This legend and Undine share important motifs such as a love bond between an elemental spirit and a human being, his betrayal of the spirit through marriage with another woman, and the spirit’s revenge. Also mentioned by Paracelsus is the originally-French legend of Melusine (compiled by Jean d’Arras, 1392-1393), who married Raimund, Count of Poitiers.45 The legend became popular in Germany as well and inspired Ludwig Tieck’s Sehr wunderbare Historie von der Melusina (1800).46 Unlike

42 Ausgewählte Werke von Friedrich Baron de la Motte Fouqué. Ausgabe letzter Hand, 4 vols (Halle: Schwetschke, 1841), IV, vol. 12: Novellen, Erzählungen, Schauspiele und Gedichte. Vierter Theil, pp.136-138. 43 A study on the phenomenon of elementals appeared just a few years after Fouqué’s novel: Friedrich Ludwig Ferdinand von Dobeneck, Des deutschen Mittelalters Volksglauben und Heroensagen, Berlin 1815. Preface by Jean Paul. 44 Peter, who had sworn fidelity to a beautiful, nameless woman, nevertheless married the niece of the German King. At their wedding feast, a beautiful foot pushed its way through the ceiling and three days later, the young knight died. An important difference from the Undine plot is the fact that the betrayed elemental does not kill her former lover herself. Along with Fouqué, other Romantics also picked up the legend: Achim von Arnim’s seven Romances, entitled ‘Ritter Peter von Stauffenberg und die Meerfeye’ in Des Knaben Wunderhorn (vol. 1, 1806) and Jacob Grimm, who included the Staufenberg-saga in the second volume of his collection Deutsche Sagen (Berlin, 1818), pp.249-253. 45 Raimund had to promise that he would avoid his wife on Saturdays. One day, he breaks his promise, finds her bathing, and discovers that she is a serpent from the waist down. After he curses her as a ‘serpent’ in front of the court, Melusine disappears forever. 46 The first German prose version, Die schöne Melusine, was provided by Thüring von Ringoltingen and printed in 1474, and a Volksbuch version made the story popular from the 16th throughout the 18th century. Hans Sachs also treated the subject, and Undine 241

Undine, however, the Melusine legend does not feature a rival woman. The relationship ends due to the discovery of Melusine’s superhuman nature, not because the mortal has broken faith by marrying another woman, and therefore there is no fatal end for the hero. Fouqué’s repeated references to the Danube and to the triangular relationship of Huldbrand and the two women Undine and Bertalda also point to another important source of his tale: the Viennese two-part Singspiel Das Donauweibchen. Ein romantisch-komisches Volksmährchen mit Gesang in drey Aufzügen by Kapellmeister Ferdinand Kauer, on a libretto by Karl Friedrich Hensler (1798).47 In the Kauer-Hensler tale, the knight Albrecht has been severely wounded, and is healed by the water nymph Hulda. In return she insists that Albrecht promise to surrender himself to her for three days out of each year, but without telling his future wife, Bertha. When Albrecht breaks his promise, Hulda kills Bertha with a bolt of lightning, but finally relents and allows the knight and his wife to be reunited in her watery domain.48 Kauer’s and Hensler’s Singspiel was an enormous success and inspired a ‘flood’ of other Singspiele based on stories involving water sprites. The composers included, among others, Gottlob Benedict Bierey, Friedrich Adam Hiller, Ignaz von Seyfried, and Wenzel Müller.49 One of the dramas inspired by the tale was Ludwig Tieck’s play, Das Donauweib (Act I, only; 1808).

Goethe wrote Die neue Melusine in 1807, although Melusine in his version is a dwarf. Hoffmann’s modern fairytale Der goldne Topf also plays with the Melusine motif: ‘Serpentina’, Anselmus’s great love, is a green snake who disappears in the river Elbe. Finally, Anselmus ends up in Atlantis, which might be located at the bottom of the same river, as various ambiguous elements of the tale seem to suggest. 47 Ferdinand Kauer (1751-1831), Kapellmeister, Theater in der Leopoldstadt and Theater in der Josefstadt; Karl Friedrich Hensler (1759-1825). 48 The libretto was based on a novel by Christian August Vulpius, entitled Die Saal- Nixe. Eine Sage der Vorzeit (1795). Jürgen Schläder has pointed out that the most direct source of the Singspiel was probably Thomas Berling’s anonymously-published novel Das Donauweibchen. Eine romantische Geschichte der Vorzeit (a plagiarized version of Vulpius’s novel, placing the plot in the region of the Danube), published in 1799. The later publication date might be an error or refer to a second edition. Vulpius changed the title of his novel in the third edition, in order to indicate that he was the author of the original (and by now, far more popular) Singspiel: Christian August Vulpius, Hulda oder die Nymphe der Donau eigentlich die Saalnixe genannt (Leipzig, 1804); Jürgen Schläder, Undine auf dem Musiktheater. Zur Entwicklungsgeschichte der deutschen Spieloper (Bonn-Bad Godesberg: Verlag für systematische Musikwissenschaft, 1979), pp.83, 85, 447-454. 49 A detailed list is provided by Schläder, Undine auf dem Musiktheater, p.84 fn.108.

242 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Hoffmann knew the Kauer-Hensler Singspiel very well from Bamberg, where the work had become part of the repertoire. In Hoffmann’s tale Der goldne Topf, the protagonist Anselmus explicitly refers to Das Donauweibchen in an imagined encounter with young women of the town. Although the stage scenery of the Viennese Singspiel and Hoffmann’s Undine have much in common, such as scenes in the forest, castles, knight halls, waterfronts, and grottos, in his own Singspiel, Hoffmann seems to distance himself very consciously from the Viennese example. In Fouqué’s version, similarly, there are substantial differences between his text and the Viennese counterpart: In Fouqué’s story, Undine’s principle motive in marrying Huldbrand is to obtain a soul for herself; in Hensler’s libretto, Hulda’s aim, as in the medieval Staufenberg legend, is exclusively erotic. The attraction and seductive power of the supernatural is what tempts the knight Albrecht, but in the end, Hulda does not seek revenge but simply pardons the sinner. Fouqué’s tale also eliminates all comical aspects and places Undine’s tragic fate at the center of the plot amidst more violent and malicious elemental forces that demand revenge at the end, even against Undine’s will. Hoffmann’s version shifts the focus even more to the noumenal power, as its staging and production demonstrate.

The Staging of Hoffmann’s Undine

In the libretto, Fouqué’s tale of nineteen chapters is divided among the three acts.50 The first act begins with the drama and action well under way: In the first scene, Knight Huldbrand von Ringstetten and the fisherman are anxiously awaiting Undine’s return. The fisherman tells Huldbrand how he and his wife had lost their daughter sixteen years earlier, and, in a romance, he recounts how they had adopted Undine, who had suddenly appeared at their doorstep. When a storm develops, Huldbrand and the fisherman decide to leave the hut and look for Undine. The second scene shows Undine sitting on a rock, surrounded by turbulent cascades and streams, from which her uncle Kühleborn arises. Although Kühleborn warns her about human fickleness, she falls in love with Huldbrand when he reaches the rock intending to rescue her. Schinkel’s design for this scene has survived and follows the libretto’s stage directions exactly in his depiction of a ‘wild nature’ scene: thunderous

50 The complete libretto can be found in Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/2, pp.467-518. Undine 243 cascades lit by the moon, with dark, wild trees surrounding the rocks (Figure 2).51

Figure 2: Karl Friedrich Schinkel, Undine, Act I, Scene 2, Waterfall in the Woods, stage design, Kupferstichkabinett, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Inv. Nr. SM 22a.46 = SM Th.22.

Romantic painters were fascinated by wild and mysterious nature scenes, although they were not the first to make wild nature the protagonist in their paintings. Among other sources, they found inspiration in the works of Dutch painter Jacob van Ruisdael (1628-1682), whose paintings had already elicited Goethe’s admiration.52 Schinkel’s stage design recalls Ruisdael’s ‘Norwegian Landscape with Waterfall’ (1650) in composition, color, and atmosphere (Figure 3). Ruisdael painted many more waterfalls in the 1660s,

51 Plates of Schinkel’s surviving stage sets and sketches for Undine can be found in Schnapp, ed., Der Musiker E. T. A. Hoffmann, pp.420-431. 52 Goethe, Johann Wolfgang, ‘Ruysdael als Dichter’ (1813/1816), MA, IX: Epoche der Wahlverwandtschaften 1807-1814, ed. by Christoph Siegrist and others (1987), pp.644-648. (First published 3 May 1816 in Morgenblatt für gebildete Stände.) Goethe admiringly described three of Ruisdael’s paintings, calling attention to the foaming cascades and streams and old wild trees. The first painting is entitled ‘Wasserfall’. 244 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera and given the artist’s popularity among the Romantics, Schinkel would certainly have been familiar with some of his paintings.53

Figure 3: Jacob Isaacksz. van Ruisdael, Norwegian Landscape with Waterfall, Residenzgalerie Salzburg, Inv. Nr. 435, Fotostudio Ghezzi, Oberalm.

53 In the preface to his Neue Kostüme, Brühl mentions Ruisdael among the exemplary painters. Saskia Dams discusses this connection in Karl Friedrich Schinkels Bühnenbilder zu E. T. A. Hoffmanns romantischer Oper ‘Undine’, Magisterarbeit, Ruprecht-Karls- Universität Heidelberg, August 2005, pp.46-49, 68. Undine 245

The remaining scenes of Act I take place in the fisherman’s hut. The waves (and thus Kühleborn) have brought a priest, Father Heilmann, to the hut and when Huldbrand and Undine return, he blesses their engagement. A protesting Kühleborn, appearing at the window, witnesses his blessing (Sextet No. 5 ‘Euch segne der, der einzig segnen kann’). When the betrothal and Huldbrand’s and Undine’s marriage are confirmed, Undine reveals her true nature as a water sprite who can only acquire a soul through the love of a human being. If he is unfaithful, however, he will die and she will return to her previous form as a water spirit. Huldbrand vows to be faithful and Undine begs him never to curse her near the waterfront. Since the storm is over, Father Heilmann, Huldbrand, and Undine, accompanied by Kühleborn, leave for the city to prepare for the wedding. Act I had covered the first nine chapters of the original tale; chapters ten to fourteen are the basis for Act II.54 Bertalda and Undine are chatting near the fountain on the main square of an imperial city. Bertalda, the adoptive daughter of the Duke and Duchess, had unwisely sent Huldbrand into the magic forest for a love token to secure his affection, but she has now lost him to Undine. Suddenly Kühleborn rises out of the fountain and again warns Undine of human inconstancy, at the same time revealing the secret of Bertalda’s origins. Undine, however, wants to surprise Bertalda on her birthday with the revelation of her identity and her parents. She first sings an aria in which she doubts the fate of her new human life (No. 10 ‘Wer traut des laun’gen Glückes Flügeln’), then enters the splendid hall in the Ducal palace. When she is asked to sing, she sings of the Duke who found an infant years ago and raised her as his own child, but also about the pain experienced by the infant’s true parents. When Undine finally reveals that the fisherman and his wife are her biological parents, Bertalda is shocked and flees into the woods. Huldbrand finds her, however, and all, including Undine, who has followed her husband, are reunited beside a stream. A fist reaching out of the water snatches the beautiful necklace that Bertalda has received from Huldbrand out of her hand and the coral offered to her by Undine cannot console her. Huldbrand curses his wife about the incident, and Undine, betrayed, must return to her element in the waters. Before she disappears into the water, she warns Huldbrand once more that breaking his vow of faithfulness to her will be fatal. Two of Schinkel’s designs for Act II have been preserved. The first scene follows the stage directions, showing a big square with a fountain in

54 Chapters five (Huldbrand living in the fisherman’s hut) and fifteen (the voyage to Vienna) of Fouqué’s tale are omitted in the libretto.

246 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera the middle (Figure 4).55 The square is lined by trees, and Schinkel added gabled houses with Gothic domes, the apse turned toward the square, and two tall towers rising into the air. A similar apse with lancet windows is also close by on the left side, behind the trees. The fountain in the middle also is in Gothic style.

Figure 4: Karl Friedrich Schinkel, Undine, Act II, Scene 1, Market Square with Water Fountain, stage design, Kupferstichkabinett, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Inv. Nr. SM 22d.117.

The emphasis on Gothic architecture in Schinkel’s design is found neither in the tale nor in the libretto, although Hoffmann had expressed his hope to Fouqué that Schinkel would build a ‘Gothic tomb’ for him. It is unclear, however, whether he was referring specifically to this scene. Schinkel hardly needed Hoffmann’s encouragement in this direction, though, for he had a lively interest in Gothic—or as it was also called ‘old German’—architecture and he had carefully studied this style during his travels to Prague, Vienna, Cologne, Strasbourg, and Milan. Goethe had earlier celebrated the ingenious builder of the Strasbourg Cathedral, Erwin von Steinbach, in his essay ‘Von deutscher Baukunst’ (1773), and had hailed Gothic architecture as ‘[…]

55 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/2, p.489. Undine 247 deutsche Baukunst, unsre Baukunst, da der Italiäner sich keiner eignen rühmen darf, vielweniger der Franzos’. (‘German architecture, our architecture, since the Italians cannot boast one of their own, and the French even less so’.)56 During the French occupation, Gothic architecture had gained importance as a reminder of a glorious German past and of German unity, especially after the fall of the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation in 1806. Schinkel’s painting, Gothic Cathedral on the Water (1813), offers more than merely a hyperidealized view of the past. Appearing in a magical realm, the magnificent dome, in its synthesis of religiosity and patriotism, also seems to prophesy a new, glorious German future (Figure 5).

Figure 5: August Wilhelm Julius Ahlborn (1796-1857), Gothic Cathedral on the Water (1823), Copy after Karl Friedrich Schinkel, 1813 (destroyed in 1931), bpk, Berlin / Nationalgalerie / Jörg P. Anders / Art Resource, NY.

56 Johann Wolfgang Goethe, ‘Von deutscher Baukunst’ (1773), MA, I/2: Der junge Goethe 1757-1775, ed. by Gerhard Sauder (1987), pp.415-423 (p.420). For more on Schinkel and the ‘Gothic shape’ of the German national spirit, see John Edward Toews, Becoming Historical: Cultural Reformation and Public Memory in Early Nineteenth-Century Berlin (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), pp.120-141. 248 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

In the wake of the Wars of Liberation, Schinkel worked on a proposal for a ‘National Cathedral’ as a monument to commemorate the German victory. In two ‘Denkschriften’, he tried to convince Prussian King Friedrich Wilhelm III (who had in mind a new Gothic dome as a monument for Prussia, replacing the church at the Berlin Spittelmarkt) that the new cathedral should stand apart just outside the city as a place of pilgrimage, thus elevating the minds of the people. Schinkel suggested locating the neo-Gothic cathedral in the center of the big square just west of the Leipziger Strasse at the Potsdamer Tor. Apart from evocations of his earlier painting, such as the cathedral’s elevated position, the two fountains in front of and behind the cathedral, and the square lined by linden trees are strikingly similar to the Undine stage set.57 The plan never materialized and Schinkel instead designed a much smaller monument at the Kreuzberg, which was completed in 1821. Nonetheless, the composition of Schinkel’s design for this scene in Act II combines many elements of his studies and plans for a German national architecture. In the opera, however, the fountain is placed in the center of the stage, pointing to the central role of Kühleborn, which will become most evident in the final scene. The second surviving design for Act II was for the final scene, where only ‘Andre Gegend am Ufer eines Flusses’ (‘another place at the bank of a river’) is indicated.58 Schinkel must have been referring visually to Undine’s mention of ‘dense bushes’, from which she hoped Huldbrand would reappear after he had followed the fleeing Bertalda (Figure 6). The wooded area is so dense, however, that Schinkel apparently did not include in his visual references the ‘blooming meadows’, ‘clear sky’, and ‘dewy roses’, to which the chorus also refers in the Finale.59 The central element in Schinkel’s design, however, is a wooden bridge that is mentioned neither in Fouqué’s text nor in the libretto. Its natural material and simplicity make it almost part of the woods and point to a symbolic meaning. Since this is the central scene in which Undine must return to the waters forever, the bridge, a division between two spheres, seems to indicate the triumph of nature over the human world.60

57 The complete text of the two ‘Denkschriften’, describing Schinkel’s ideas for the monument (the first written during the summer of 1814, and the second in January 1815), are reprinted in Paul Ortwin Rave, Berlin. Erster Teil: Bauten für die Kunst, Kirchen und Denkmalpflege. Karl Friedrich Schinkel. Lebenswerk, II (1941; revised and repr. 1981), pp.187-202. 58 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/2, p.503. 59 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/2, p.504. 60 Again, Jacob van Ruisdael offers a very similar bridge (material as well as structure) in his ‘River Landscape with a Bridge’ (1650s) or his ‘Mountain Torrent’ (1670s). Undine 249

Figure 6: Karl Friedrich Schinkel, Undine, Act II, Scene 5, Bridge in the Woods, stage design, Kupferstichkabinett, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Inv. Nr. SM Th.7 = SM B.23 (old).

The fact that the bridge belongs to the natural world becomes especially evident in its contrast with the scenery of the concluding two scenes of Act III, which also feature a bridge. The third act begins at Ringstetten Castle, where Bertalda and Huldbrand declare their love, but their duet is interrupted by the warning voice of Kühleborn. Father Heilmann arrives and also warns Huldbrand about the consequences of breaking his vow. Kühleborn reappears when the fisherman and his wife arrive and swears vengeance on Huldbrand, who intends to marry Bertalda. According to the libretto, the scenery for this and the following scene shows a beautiful garden with a view of the castle and a covered fountain. To these directions, Hoffmann had added instructions that the castle should be seated at the lake and mirrored on its surface. An artificial arched bridge should lead to a main portal in rich Gothic style. Schinkel had designed a Gothic arched bridge leading to an impressive castle, which does not really resemble historic examples, but in its combination of various types of towers looks more like a castle from a fairytale. The cool colors and mirror image in the lake enhance this magical, unreal feeling. The bridge, which is 250 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera artificial and made of stone, contrasts with the elemental bridge of the second act and does not seem to lead to a livable world (Figure 7).

Figure 7: Karl Friedrich Schinkel, Undine, Act III, Scenes 4 & 5, Burg Ringstetten, stage design, Kupferstichkabinett, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Inv. Nr. SM 22c.45 recto.

Hoffmann had added an extra scene and aria for Bertalda at the beginning of Act III, in which she expresses her sense of foreboding:

Wie schwül, wie bang unheimlich starrt die Burg Mit ihren kalten Mauern um mich her! […] Ich fühl es! Ach! Hier wohnt die Liebe nicht, Sind Lieb’ und Freude mehr Als Traumgesicht.

(How oppressive, how uncanny! This stern castle towers forbiddingly, surrounding me with its cold walls. […] I feel it! Alas, alas, love has no place here, Love and joy are no more than a vision.)61

61 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/2, p.680. Translation based on Celia Skrine (1993 KOCH International GmbH). Undine 251

Schinkel’s castle does indeed appear like a dream in the distance. The fairytale fantasy is also mentioned by Brühl: ‘Die Burg Ringstaetten mit seinen [sic!] hellen Umgebungen ist ein liebliches Phantasie-Gebilde im altdeutschen Styl, welches durch den Reitz der Farbe noch unendlich gewinnt’. (‘Ringstetten Castle in its light-colored environment is a lovely figment of imagination in the old German style, which is enormously winning due to the appealing colors’.)62 To what extent Hoffmann was involved in the castle’s design is unknown, but according to Hitzig, Hoffmann had built a model of it as a Christmas surprise for Hitzig’s children.63 Besides exchanging ideas with Hoffmann, Schinkel may also have drawn inspiration from the contemporary enthusiasm for old castles and ruins. Apart from preservation efforts in which Schinkel himself was involved,64 various castles and ruins were built in neo-Gothic style, such as Löwenburg Castle (1793-1801) and Franzensburg Castle (begun in 1798). In their eclecticism and idealization of might and power, these castles bear some resemblance to Schinkel’s design for Ringstetten. As in the second act, the fountain in the foreground functions as a starting point for the action. Undine had ordered that the well be covered, but now that she is gone, Bertalda insists on opening it. As soon as the water shoots up, refilling the well, Undine reappears and kisses Huldbrand, who dies in her embrace. In Fouqué’s libretto, Huldbrand then sinks into the arms of Father Heilmann, who chases Kühleborn away with his cross, thus saving Huldbrand’s soul. Undine disappears and the fountain changes into a gorgeous monument. Perhaps Hoffmann was referring to this when, in 1815, he expressed the hope that Schinkel would design ‘a magnificent, authentic Gothic tomb’. Notwithstanding his expressed desire for a Gothic tomb, Hoffmann drastically changed Fouqué’s final scene: Huldbrand now sinks with Undine into the depths of the well. In his revision, Hoffmann added extensive directions for the final scenery, which Schinkel followed in detail:

Es steigt ein graues Nebelgewölk aus dem See, das sich immer mehr ausdehnt und man erblickt endlich in demselben, jedoch nur in schwankenden, halbverfließenden Umrissen ein aus Muscheln, Perlen, Korallen und seltsamen Seegewächsen fantastisch zusammengesetztes Portal; unter demselben Undine,

62 Harten, Die Bühnenentwürfe, p.197. 63 Julius Eduard Hitzig, Aus Hoffmann’s Leben und Nachlass, 2 vols (Berlin: Dümmler, 1823), II, p.109. 64 Schinkel was involved in the renovation and rebuilding (in neo-Gothic style) of various old buildings such as Rosenau Palace, Ehrenburg Palace, and the dome in Cologne.

252 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

die den wie in Ohnmacht liegenden Huldbrand in ihren Armen hält, und sich sanft über ihn hinbeugt. Es umgeben die Gruppe Wasser Geister aller Art; über alle ragt Kühleborns Gestalt empor.

(A grey fog rises up from the lake, and one finally beholds the transient and fluctuant contours of a portal, built in a fantastic manner from sea shells, pearls, coral, and rare sea plants; beneath it sits Undine, holding Huldbrand in her arms, who looks as if [he is] unconscious, and softly bending over him. They are surrounded by all kinds of water spirits, and above all towers Kühleborn’s figure.)65

Schinkel designed the portal like the entrance to a subterranean grotto, in accordance with Huldbrand’s sinking deep down into the fountain (Figure 8). The way Undine is depicted with Huldbrand in her arms reminds the viewer of a Pietà, except that Huldbrand here is at the mercy of a mighty water spirit, resembling Neptune. There is hence no redemption through Christian faith as in Fouqué’s version, but the elemental forces appear victorious.

Figure 8: Karl Friedrich Schinkel, Undine, Act III, final scenery (Scene 5, Finale, mm. 200ff), Kühleborn’s Waterpalace, stage design, Kupferstichkabinett, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Inv. Nr. SM 22c.173 = SM C.30 (old).

65 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/2, p.517-518. Undine 253

At the same time, the reunion of Undine and Huldbrand makes an ethereal impression, far removed from reality, as the stage directions call for newly- ascending fog, in which the figures disappear by the end of the last chorus and the lowering of the curtain. The entire apparition should be so ephemeral that, in less densely-foggy places, one can still see objects such as the bridge or the castle behind it.66 This fluidity between the natural and supernatural realms is typical of Hoffmann’s Romantic visions. For the staging of Calderón’s play Der standhafte Prinz in Bamberg, Hoffmann had tried to achieve a similar effect in his design for the final scene: the protagonist Don Fernando as an airy apparition, kneeling in front of Christ, who is enthroned on the clouds. ‘Diese Erscheinung war ganz luftig und durchsichtig, so daß man die Gegenstände hinter ihr (Mauern, Türme etc. von Tanger) wie im Nebel gewahr wurde, und so schien das Ganze nur der Reflex eines himmlischen Schauspiels [...]’. (‘This apparition was completely airy and transparent, so that one could still behold the objects behind it (walls, towers, etc. of Tangier) as if veiled by fog, making the whole appear as a reflection of a heavenly spectacle […]’.)67 With his preference for a rather atmospheric stage design full of ambiguities, Hoffmann had found an ideal partner in Schinkel, who also aimed at more symbolic representations, leaving ample room for the viewers’ imagination. In a letter to Hippel after the première, Hoffmann would praise Schinkel’s designs as the most ingenious ones he had ever seen.68

While the collaboration with Schinkel seemed to have been a mutually- inspiring experience, the preparations on the musical side went less smoothly. In his letter to Fouqué confirming the staging of Undine, Brühl had expressed his misgivings about the effect that Hoffmann’s music would have on the audience. Although he called the composition brilliant and substantial, he found that its tender and lovely aspects were not captured well by the fervid character of the music.69 The part of Undine, especially, should be very melodious, alluringly simple, also with regard to harmonic progression. Overall, he considered the music of the opera too serious and complex, which might be off-putting to the audience.70 Hoffmann, who had opened the letter, was not pleased, and wrote to Fouqué that Brühl’s letter was rather verbose and lacked profound ideas.71 Nonetheless, before the

66 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/2, p.518. 67 Schriften zur Musik, Nachlese, p.600. 68 Letter of 30 August 1816, Briefwechsel, II, p.98. 69 Letter of 27 May 1815, Briefwechsel, II, pp.59-60. 70 Briefwechsel, II, p.60. 71 Letter of 29 May 1815, Briefwechsel, II, p.61.

254 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera première, Hoffmann did make changes to the score. In his letter to Brühl accompanying the clean copies of the second and third acts, he indicated that he had recomposed Undine’s aria (Act II, No. 10), and had added the scene and aria for Bertalda at the beginning of Act III.72 In the same letter Hoffmann also expressed his preferences for the casting of his opera, and proposed Joseph Fischer as Kühleborn. At the end of May, Brühl replied that Fischer would be willing to sing the part, but also demanded extra scenes and arias in which he could display his declamatory and vocal talents. Hoffmann agreed reluctantly, since this would impair the unity of character that he was trying to achieve in his opera.73 On 9 July he asked Brühl to ensure that no rehearsals would be omitted and, in particular, that no singers would be absent. Kühleborn, Father Heilmann, and the Duchess had been missing from the last rehearsal, which greatly impacted many scenes. Fischer, however, had sent back his part on 6 July, commenting that this role was not suitable for him as a singer.74 Instead of Fischer, Carl Wauer would take over Kühleborn’s role. Hoffmann would not forgive Fischer’s sudden withdrawal, the consequences of which will be discussed in Chapter Five. More clouds were massing on the horizon to prevent a convincing musical interpretation of the opera. Brühl informed Hoffmann that he had assigned Bernhard Romberg to conduct Undine, whereupon Hoffmann immediately responded that he preferred Bernhard Anselm Weber instead.75 On 9 July he turned to Brühl again, once more expressing his preference for Weber, but Brühl replied that it was now too late to change the assignment. Hoffmann might have still resented the fact that Romberg had been appointed to the Kapellmeister post he had hoped to obtain himself. It is more likely, however, that he was not convinced of Romberg’s abilities as conductor, although he greatly appreciated his talents as a cellist (see Chapter Six).76 Finally, the première did take place on the King’s birthday, preceded by an address penned by Friedrich Förster.77 Förster alluded to the

72 Letter of 29 January 1816, Briefwechsel, II, p.86. Hoffmann not only composed new music for Undine’s aria, but also rewrote Fouqué’s text. Both text versions in Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/2, pp.494, 676-677. Hoffmann most likely also wrote the text of Bertalda’s new scene. 73 Letter of 1 June 1816, Briefwechsel, II, p.92 74 Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.330. 75 Letter of 1 June 1816, Briefwechsel, II, p.92. 76 Brühl himself had been against Romberg’s appointment for that very reason (see Footnote 37). 77 The author and historian Friedrich Förster (1791-1868) had, together with his friend Theodor Körner, joined the Lützow Free Corps and composed patriotic poems. As Undine 255 loyalty among Germans and to the King during the Wars of Liberation and expressed his hope for a bright future.78 While the national spirit that blew through the entire performance—with its emphasis on wild nature (especially the forest and cascades) on the one hand, and castles, cathedrals, houses, and costumes in the old German style on the other—was welcomed and praised in the press, critics were careful not to read any further political implications into these aspects, as they had done for Thassilo.

Voices of the Critics

Shortly after Undine’s première, three reviews appeared in close succession in the Vossische Zeitung. The first was penned by preacher and linguist Samuel Heinrich Catel (1758-1838), the newspaper’s editor from 1806- 1822.79 He praised the new opera as a masterpiece, referring to the beautiful text, the ingenious imagination of the composer, the accomplishments of the orchestra, and the work’s impressive stage design and accurate costumes. The review pays particular attention to the costumes, and Catel points out how Brühl faithfully designed them after paintings of old German masters from the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries.80 The Duke’s costume was modeled after a painting by [Franz?] Frank in Augsburg. Huldbrand’s costume was inspired by Holbein, and those of Undine and Bertalda by Lucas Cranach.81 Catel warmly praises Brühl’s precision and efforts to be historically faithful in every detail, even in the extras’ costumes. In his review, he announced a contribution by an expert on the beautiful decorations of Undine to follow in a later issue.

member of the Jüngere Liedertafel (male choir founded by Ludwig Berger, Bernhard Klein, Ludwig Rellstab, and Gustav Reichardt in 1819) Förster later provided texts for songs, some of which were set to music by Hoffmann (who was also a member, as was Christian Gottfried Körner, father of soldier-poet Theodor Körner). See Schnapp, ed., Der Musiker E. T. A. Hoffmann, pp.543-546, 548-549. Förster composed an obituary poem after Hoffmann’s death, which was sung in the Liedertafel and published in Der Zuschauer, no. 81 (6 July 1822). Schnapp, ed., Der Musiker E. T. A. Hoffmann, p.554. 78 Part of the address published in Vossische Zeitung (17 August 1816) and in Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.333. 79 Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, pp.336-337. 80 Catel actually wrote ‘14th and early 15th century’, but given the painters he mentioned he must have meant a century later. 81 Plates featuring the costumes of Huldbrand, Undine and the duke in Schnapp, ed., Der Musiker E. T. A. Hoffmann, pp.439-441.

256 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

This expert was the architect and painter Ludwig Friedrich (Louis) Catel (1776-1819).82 Catel emphasized the exemplary unity of the arts involved and ascribed the opera’s success to it:

In welch innigem Bunde tritt hier die romantische Dichtung Undines mit dem Wunderbaren der Tonsetzung und dem Zauber der Bühnendarstellung, in ein ganzes der Kunsteinheit zusammen! Das Gefühl dieser Einheit bewirkte jenen mitgeteilten Beifall der Zuschauer in der 1. Vorstellung der in gleichem Maße, der Dichtung, der Musik und der Dekoration zu gelten schien.

(The Romantic poetry of Undine forms, in close alliance with the marvelous music and the magic stage design, an inseparable unity of the arts! The sensation of this unity caused the applause of the audience in the first performance, which has been reported earlier, and which seemed to be directed at its poetry, music, and decorations in equal measure.)83

He characterized the poetry of Undine as being purely Romantic, as it was rooted in the Middle Ages, the age of courtly love and chivalry, of Christian religion and superstition, and of the conflict between good and evil spirits and humankind. The Romantic aspects were, in his view, especially enhanced by the scenery with the moonlit forest and waterfalls, the undulating waters enclosed by glaciers and rocks, and most of all by the palace of the water spirits.84 The third review appearing in the Vossische Zeitung was dedicated to the music, and was authored by the composer and music critic Johann Philipp Schmidt (1779-1853).85 Schmidt called Hoffmann’s music to Undine highly dramatic, as it enhanced only the important moments of the action, sacrificing beauty and brilliant effects in favor of emotional depth. He noted

82 Brother of the painter Franz Ludwig Catel (1778-1856), not of Samuel Heinrich, as Schnapp (Aufzeichnungen, p.865; Briefwechsel II, p.99 fn.5) and Harten (Die Bühnenentwürfe, p.179) state. For more on Catel, see: Rolf H. Johannsen, ‘Ludwig Friedrich (Louis) Catel. Biographie, Schriften- und Werkverzeichnis’. Berliner Klassik. Eine Großstadtkultur um 1800. Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaf- ten, 2001. URL: http://www.berliner-klassik.de/forschung/werkvertraege 83 Vossische Zeitung, 8 August 1816. Harten, Die Bühnenentwürfe, p.180. 84 Harten, Die Bühnenentwürfe, p.181. 85 Johann Philipp Schmidt studied law in Königsberg and musical composition with Johann Gottlieb Naumann in Dresden. He remained an amateur musician, earning his living as a government official. In 1811, he became expedient clerk at the ‘Seehandlung’, a department of the Treasury. For thirty years (1815-1845), he contributed as music critic to the Berlin Haude- und Spenersche Zeitung. Hoffmann, with whom he was well acquainted, reviewed two of his operatic compositions (see Chapter Five). Undine 257 the influences of Gluck, Mozart, and Cherubini. He found Undine’s part most characteristic, especially in the Sextet No. 5, Undine’s Aria No. 10, and the first and second finales. The part of Kühleborn had gained considerably in importance compared to Fouqué’s original tale and was haunting the entire work (albeit a bit too much). Some of the opera’s polyphonic parts Schmidt considered too long and overloaded with modulations. On the whole, he felt, one needed to hear the work more than once to fully understand the music. Like Catel, he was most impressed by the final decoration with the water palace.86 A lengthy review (signed: ‘W’) in Dramaturgisches Wochenblatt of 17 and 24 August concentrated on the opera’s text.87 The development of the plot was harshly criticized as being illogical and unconvincing. For example, a clear introductory scene was lacking, thereby confusing the spectator from the outset. There seemed to be no dramatic consequences to Undine’s acquiring a soul, and overall, the characters of humans and spirits alike were flat and superficial. Undine disclosed her true nature too early, and Bertalda was remarkably stoic about Undine’s presence and about Huldbrand’s death at the end. According to ‘W’, the whole idea was a perversion of Christianity, for what priest would ever bless a marriage between a Christian and a heathen creature? In contrast to his harsh judgment of the poetic idea underlying the text and its dramatic realization, the critic greatly admired the poetry of the music and of the decorations. Promising that a more competent critic would comment on the music in a later issue, he assured the readers that, with regard to scenery, he had never seen comparable landscape designs on any stage before. The mountain scenes, the forest, the castle at the lake, and the large square in the imperial city were most effective. Highly commendable also was the decoration for the final scene. The critic even speculated, whether the decorations were responsible for the audience’s enthusiastic response: ‘Es mögte die Frage seyn, welch ein Schicksal, trotz der genialen Musik und der guten Darstellung überhaupt, diese Oper gehabt hätte, wenn sie mit andern, minder poetisch und kunstmäßig ausgeführten Dekorationen zur Vorstellung gebracht worden wäre’. (‘The question remains, what might have become of this opera, in spite of its ingenious music and the successful performance in general, if it had been staged with different decorations, less

86 Vossische Zeitung 10.8.1816; Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, pp.339-341. 87 Dramaturgisches Wochenblatt in nächster Beziehung auf die königlichen Schauspiele zu Berlin nos 7 & 8, (17 & 24 August 1816), pp.55-56, 57-64. The Dramaturgisches Wochenblatt (DW) was established soon after Brühl had taken over the direction of the theater in 1815; see Chapter Five.

258 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera poetic and artistic in design’.)88 In spite of the weaknesses and obscurity of the work as a whole, the opera appealed to the eyes and ears of the audience. The critic’s lack of understanding of Undine’s irrational aspects and magic triggered a reply in early October.89 Clearly, the respondent noted, the author of the review had not grasped the spirit of the Middle Ages and its folk beliefs. The critic had moreover overlooked the fact that the miraculous was the most suitable subject matter of opera, since music itself was a miracle and as ephemeral as Undine. Although he agreed that the tale was superior to the opera because the plot and characters had to be simplified and adapted to the possibilities of the stage, it all still made sense. Huldbrand, unworthy of Undine’s love, and Bertalda, haughty, obstinate, and incapable of true love, clearly showed the fallibility of those who pretend to have a soul. Hoffmann himself was not impressed by these discussions in the press, as a letter to Hippel shows:

Die Oper hat ein allemeines Gähren und Brausen und endloses Geschwätz verursacht, welches lediglich dem Dichter zuzuschreiben ist, der die Opposition sämmtlicher Philister wider sich hat. […] Das einzige gescheute Wort über Undine, das gedruckt wurde, hat übrigens Catel in der Berliner Zeitung gesprochen, sonst ist viel närrisches Zeug auch in den dramaturgischen Blättern geschwazt [….].

(The opera caused a general ferment and noise and endless twaddle which must be ascribed solely to the poet, who has all the philistines against him. […] The only intelligent word printed about Undine was, by the way, written by Catel in the Berlin newspaper; aside from that, much nonsense was prattled, also [SL: even] in the Dramaturgisches Wochenblatt […].)90

Ludwig Catel had shown a deep appreciation of Undine’s Romantic aspects, and had emphasized the unity of the participating arts, much in contrast to ‘W’. In Hoffmann’s eyes ‘W’ was clearly one of the ‘philistines’ who had even doubted whether the opera would have enjoyed any success had it not been for the impressive decorations. After these reviews focusing on text and decorations, in November 1816, the Dramaturgisches Wochenblatt published an extensive contribution in

88 DW no. 8 (24 August 1816), p.63. 89 DW no. 14 (5 October 1816), pp.107-111. 90 Letter of 30 August 1816, Briefwechsel, II, pp.98, 99; Selected Letters, p.259. Undine 259 three installments, addressing the music.91 The author was again Johann Philipp Schmidt. Schmidt discussed the opera’s three acts scene by scene, addressing the ways in which ‘the most ingenious composer’ had captured the main ideas, characters, and dramatic action in his music, since, as he pointed out, these very dramatic effects had thus far not been acknowledged in more general journals. As in his earlier review, Schmidt again praised the Sextet No. 5 as one of the best pieces of the ‘ingenious opera’. The intelligent and deeply sensitive composer, furthermore, demonstrated his rich harmonic knowledge and mastery of double counterpoint in the first Finale. The second act, on the whole, Schmidt considered to be the most successful musically as well as dramatically with respect to the stage action. Although it held up the action for too long, Schmidt liked Undine’s Romance-style aria, in which she narrated the story of the foundling who grew up with the Duke’s family, and the pain felt by the true parents at the loss of their child. Schmidt criticized the excessive length of certain scenes which diminished the dramatic effect onstage, and directed the same criticism at Trio No. 8, which, he believed, contained too many repetitions and excessive dialogue. In the scene with Kühleborn’s aria and the chorus of the water spirits (Act II, Scene 5, No. 12), Schmidt points out many admirable features, such as the depiction of the waves in the violin, the unisonos of the wind instruments (reminding the listener of Gluck and Mozart), and the bass- figure announcing Kühleborn’s vows of revenge. The unity of the entire scene and the harmonic progressions attest to the composer’s genius, although, again, its length diminishes the effect onstage. Schmidt, however, lauds the composer’s restraint in not playing to the gallery with superficial sound effects or Italianate cadences, for concentrating on the expression of feelings and passions, and for his marking of dramatic moments. By keeping this in mind, he said, ‘wird auch dem Layen manches in der Hoffmannschen Musik weniger lang, düster und fragmentarisch vorkommen’ (‘even the layperson will find much of Hoffmann’s music less long-winded, bleak, and fragmentary’).92 Schmidt’s apologetic tone indicates that Hoffmann’s music was not always easy to grasp, as he had noted in his earlier review, and which he repeated at the end of the current review.93

91 DW nos 18, 21 & 22 (2, 23 & 30 November 1816), pp.142-144, 166-168, 172-173. Reprinted in Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.346-355. 92 Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.351. 93 Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.355

260 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Highly effective, according to Schmidt, was the return of the melody in D flat major (12/8) from the second-act instrumental introduction after Huldbrand curses Undine on the water at the end of Act II, and again, when Undine rises out of the well at the end of Act III. Highly commendable as well was the instrumentation, for example, in the accompaniment of Kühleborn’s appearances (e.g., muffled drum rolls and trombones in Act III, Trio No. 15), or in the Romance of the fisherman and his wife, where a brief ritornello of clarinet unisono and horns produces a distinct, romantic effect, and achieves a pure unity of poetry and music (Act III, No. 18). The impressive final chorus, with a reprise of the opera’s beginning, demonstrates the composer’s elevated standards:

Das Thema des Schluß-Gesanges ist dem Anfang der Ouvertüre gleich; auch dieser Zug bewährt den tiefen Sinn des Komponisten, der sein Werk nicht rhapsodisch sondern reiflich durchdacht und von der Glut höherer Kunst-Weihe durchdrungen, aus seinem Selbst begeistert und daher auch wieder begeisternd erschuf.

(The final chorus is identical with the beginning of the overture; this feature also testifies to the deep artistic sense of the composer, whose work is conceived not in a rhapsodic, but in a highly sophisticated manner. Enthused from within and therefore in turn enthusing, he created his work enthralled by an ardent higher calling.)94

Schmidt not only pays tribute to the composer but also to the ‘uniquely beautiful’ stage design. He singles out the moonlit cascades in the first act and the final setting, with the portal of the water palace just visible in the ascending mist, Undine leaning over the lifeless Huldbrand, and a colossal Kühleborn towering above the scene.95 In contrast to Schmidt’s mostly positive review, the Dresden Abend- Zeitung published a highly critical report a few months later.96 The critic maintained that the theater was not full thanks to the music, which hardly attracted or captivated the audience, but rather to the admirable stage design. The opera’s lack of effect he ascribed first and foremost to the shortcomings of the text, which failed to dramatize the action, but instead narrated and depicted the course of events. Undine’s romance-like recounting of Bertalda’s adoption, which Schmidt had praised, the Abend- Zeitung writer criticized for its excessively long-winded descriptive style.

94 Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.354. 95 Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.355. 96 Abend-Zeitung, Dresden, nos 88 and 89 (12 and 14 April 1817); partly reprinted in Schnapp, ed., Der Musiker E. T. A. Hoffmann, pp.480-482. Undine 261

While Schmidt had preferred the second act over the other two, the Abend- Zeitung critic considered this act to be the weakest of the opera, due to the undramatic quality of the text, which also restricted and enfeebled the music. Rich harmony, the critic continued, had to make up for the lack of melodic development, and its many beautiful details left no lasting effect. In short, the critic concluded, the opera as a whole lacked character. He considered the first act, full of dramatic action, to be the most satisfying of the three. In the second act, the critic continued, only Kühleborn’s aria with chorus (No. 12), and the Romance and Quartet in the final Act (No. 18) made a deep impression. These two scenes had also been singled out in Schmidt’s review. Although the various critics differed as to the merits of various aspects of the new opera, all agreed as to the musical and dramatic ability of Johanna Eunike, who sang the title role of Undine. Wilhelm Müller devoted an entire paragraph to the special qualities of her voice and her performance onstage, and wondered whether her performance, the composer, or the poet was responsible for the opera’s success.97 Well before the première, on 24 July 1816, Rochlitz, the editor of the AMZ, had announced the forthcoming staging of Undine, and emphasized the necessity in Romantic opera for all of the contributing arts to create a united effect.98 In a brief review that followed on 18 September 1816, an AMZ critic credited Undine’s success especially to the music and the stage design. Without knowing Fouqué’s tale, however, the critic believed the opera was hard to understand, which hindered its effect on a broader audience. The music, while deeply expressive and highly imaginative, was considered generally lacking in dramatic impact. There were, however, excellent pieces in every other respect. The most successful, according to the critic, were the musical settings in the second act: Bertalda’s and Undine’s Duet (No. 9) ‘Rauscht ihr grünen Bäume’, Undine’s Aria No. 10, and her song (No. 11) ‘Morgen, so hell’. Of Schinkel’s many stage sets, the ones most admired were the fisherman’s hut, the Gothic rooms, the moonlit cascades in the forest, the undulating lake enclosed by glaciers and rocks, and the palace of the water spirits intermittently visible in the fog.99

97 Wilhelm Müller: ‘Oper und Schauspiel, nebst einigen Bemerkungen über das Theater im Allgemeinen und über das Berliner Theater im Besonderen’, Der Gesellschafter, no. 68 (25 April 1817); partly reprinted in Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, pp.393-394. 98 AMZ 18: 30 (24 July 1816), col.519 and Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.331. 99 AMZ 18: 38 (18 September 1816), col.655. Reprinted in Schnapp, ed., Der Musiker E. T. A. Hoffmann, p.450.

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In March 1817, the AMZ published the most extensive review of Undine apart from Schmidt’s, this one authored by Carl Maria von Weber. It would become Weber’s most famous review.

Carl Maria von Weber’s Review of Undine for the AMZ100

According to Hoffmann’s diary, he first met Weber during Weber’s visit to Bamberg in March 1811.101 Weber’s diary states that he made Hoffmann’s acquaintance much later, on 12 June 1816,102 after which they met regularly, especially when Weber stayed in Berlin for a longer period (13 October 1816 to 12 January 1817), after resigning his post as director of the opera in Prague.103 On 18 November 1816 Hoffmann wrote to General Manager of the Königliche Schauspiele Brühl with the news that he had received several requests from visiting friends, and in particular from Weber, to hear the new opera. He would be very obliged to Brühl if a performance could be given, since it would be very instructive for him to have this excellent composer hear his work.104 Undine was performed on 24 November, and Weber jotted down his initial impressions in his diary: ‘sehr geistvoll und schön, manches herrlich’ (‘full of spirit and very beautiful, sometimes superb’),105 and

100 ‘Ueber die Oper, Undine, nach dem Märchen gleiches Namens von Fried. Baron de la Motte Fouqué selbst bearbeitet, mit Musik von E. T. A. Hoffmann, und zuerst auf dem königl. Theater zu Berlin erschienen’, AMZ 19: 12 (19 March 1817), cols 201- 208. Reprinted in Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, pp.127-135; Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, pp.382-388; and Schnapp, ed., Der Musiker E. T. A. Hoffmann, pp.476-480. English translation in Weber, Writings on Music, pp.200-205. 101 On 3 March, Hoffmann wrote: ‘in der “Rose” Bekantschafft des Componisten Maria von Weber gemacht’ (‘I made the acquaintance of the composer Maria von Weber’) and on 4 March: ‘Abends sehr angenehm unterhalten Weber!’ (‘In the evening, very pleasant conversation [with] Weber!’) Hoffmann, Tagebücher, p.123. Weber was apparently less impressed, since he made no mention of the acquaintance in his diary, and in his report to the members of the Harmonischer Verein he disqualified Hoffmann as a possible new member, given his great admiration of Beethoven. Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.169. 102 Celebrations for the allied victory at Waterloo in Munich had spurred Weber to compose the cantata Kampf und Sieg (1815), and after sending copies to the allied monarchs, he was subsequently invited to Berlin, where his cantata was performed to great acclaim (18 and 23 June 1816). 103 Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, pp.328, 329, 345, 358-364, 372-373. Brühl had invited Weber’s fiancée, the singer Caroline Brandt, to give guest performances at the Berlin theater. 104 Briefwechsel, II, p.117. 105 Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.358. Undine 263 reiterated his enthusiasm in a letter to his fiancée Caroline Brandt (who had returned to Prague) two days later: ‘Die Musik ist ungemein karakteristisch, geistreich, ja oft frapant und durchaus Effektvoll geschrieben, so daß ich eine große Freude und Genuß daran hatte’. (‘The composition is extraordinarily characteristic, full of wit, indeed often striking and quite effective, so that it gave me much pleasure and delight’.)106 He went on telling Caroline how he had been so enthused by the music that he hurried to see Hoffmann afterwards (who was ill and at home), offering his gratitude and appreciation. Weber would hear Undine twice more during his stay in Berlin (on 6 and 26 December). On 24 December Weber received the score and started his review on Christmas Day. On this day, news reached him about his appointment as Kapellmeister at the German opera in Dresden. On 8 January 1817, he completed the review, a few days before he left Berlin to assume his new post. The review was published two months later, on 19 March 1817. Weber opens his review by reflecting on music criticism as a literary form, which rarely succeeds in conveying a truthful depiction or in achieving the same effect as the work under consideration. Neither a more general discussion nor an analysis of its details would suffice. The difficulties lay in the entwinement of all the parts, which were wholly intermingled:

Die größten Wirkungen und Schönheiten gehen nur aus der Art ihrer Auf- und Zusammenstellung hervor, verlieren meist immer, einzeln herausgehoben, ihre ganze Eigentümlichkeit, ja, zeugen oft scheinbar wider sich selbst, indem sie, so allein betrachtet, fast bedeutungslos werden. Ihr wahres organisch-verbundenes Zusammenleben mit dem übrigen vermag doch auch die lebendigste Beschreibung nur höchst selten ganz fühlbar zu machen.

(The greatest effects and beauties of a work depend on their presentation and arrangement; removed from their context they mostly lose their whole individuality and even seem, as it were, to testify against themselves by virtually losing their significance when viewed in isolation. Even the most vivid description can only very rarely communicate the sense of their organic relationship to the rest of the work.)107

An analysis, he continues, could nevertheless be instructive for students, but not for a review, whose main goal was to acquaint the general public with a work of art by sketching out its imaginative realm and the form selected by the composer. In order to offer some insight on the views forming the basis for his own judgments, Weber inserted a passage from another larger work

106 Letter of 26 November 1816 to Caroline Brandt, Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.359. 107 Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.128; Weber, Writings on Music, p.200.

264 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

(Tonkünstlers Leben), ‘weil es auch überdies die Gestaltung der Oper Undine größtenteils ausspricht’ (‘since it applies for the most part to the formation of the opera Undine’).108 If a critic adapts a tranquil and unprejudiced mindset, he will easily recognize whether the artist has succeeded in creating a large work with a lasting impression, or if he has only affected us with brilliant flashes of his imagination, without leaving any lasting effect of the whole. Especially in opera, the latter was hard to avoid. With respect to opera, he continued: ‘Es versteht sich von selbst, daß ich von der Oper spreche, die der Deutsche will: ein in sich abgeschlossenes Kunstwerk, wo alle Teile und Beiträge der verwandten und benutzten Künste ineinanderschmelzend verschwinden und auf gewisse Weise untergehend – eine neue Welt bilden’. (‘Of course when I speak of opera I am speaking of the German ideal, namely a self-sufficient work of art in which every feature and every contribution by the related arts are moulded together in a certain way and dissolve, to form a new world’.)109 None of the arts involved, therefore, should prevail over the other, but their cooperation should be synthesized into a unified whole, with an effect reaching far beyond what any of the arts alone could achieve. While in Tonkünstlers Leben, Felix called this perfect union ‘the German and French’ ideal,110 in his Undine review Weber clearly claimed this ideal as being uniquely German. The national spirit of the Undine production thus also found its way into the AMZ review. This German ideal is then equated with ‘[t]he very nature and inner constitution of opera’, and, according to Weber, only a few heroes of art have been able to achieve a work ‘as a whole containing other wholes’ the way it should be, with every musical number displaying its own proper architecture, making it an independent and organic unity. These individual numbers, however, should be absorbed into the impression of the work as a

108 Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.128; Weber, Writings on Music, p.201. The fragment was taken from Tonkünstlers Leben. Fragmente eines Romans (1809-1820), Chapter Five (composed January – March 1817). Georg Kaiser collected and ordered all of the fragments into eight chapters: Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, pp.437-510. Chapters One, Three, and Five had already been printed in Die Muse. Monatschrift für Freunde der Poesie und der mit ihr verschwisterten Künste, ed. by Friedrich Kind, I: 1 & 3 (Leipzig: Göschen, 1821), pp.49-72, 79-98 as ‘Bruchstücke aus: Tonkünstlers Leben. Eine Arabeske von Carl Maria von Weber’. The passage used in the Undine review parallels Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.471 (one sentence) and pp.469-471. 109 Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.129; Weber, Writings on Music, p.201. 110 ‘Es versteht sich von selbst, daß ich von der Oper spreche, die der Deutsche und Franzose will […]’. (‘Of course when I speak of opera I am speaking of the German and French ideal [...]’.) Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.469; Weber, Writings on Music, p.335. Undine 265 whole.111 As one of these few heroes, Weber mentioned Gluck, whose works stood completely contrary to the salacious Italian music that had overwhelmed and unmanned all of the minds of that era. Today again, Weber observed, true artistic taste was endangered by the impact of the war, which had depressed people’s spirits and caused them to seek relief in the coarsest and most primitive art forms. ‘Das Theater ward zum Guckkasten’ (‘The theatre has become little more than a peepshow’), and instead of offering true artistic pleasure, audiences were titillated with trivial jokes and melodies or dazzled by pointless stage spectacles.112 After venting his displeasure with Italian opera and popular genres, Weber turned to the high expectations for the new opera that he had held from the beginning, given the nature of Hoffmann’s writings. For anyone capable of appreciating the spirit of Mozart with the warmth of imagination and the penetration that Hoffmann had showcased in his story Don Juan would be unable to produce anything mediocre.113 Weber’s admiration for the first part of Hoffmann’s Fantasiestücke (‘Ritter Gluck’, ‘Kreisleriana I’, ‘Don Juan’, ‘Nachricht von den Schicksalen des Hundes Berganza’) had in fact inspired him to work on his own novel Tonkünstlers Leben.114 Like most other reviewers, he criticized Fouqué for the obscurity of parts of the action, crediting this to the fact that the author knew his own tale too well and mistakenly assumed others would be equally familiar with it. Nevertheless, it was far from unintelligible, as some critics had alleged. Weber continued with an appreciative discussion of the opera’s music, and his main points of praise are largely congruent with Schmidt’s judgments in Dramaturgisches Wochenblatt. He begins by praising the opera’s musical unity, which corresponds to the established German ideal: ‘Sie ist wirklich ein Guß […] Ja, er [der Komponist] erregt so gewaltig vom Anfang bis zu Ende das Interesse für die musikalische Entwickelung, daß man nach dem ersten Anhören wirklich das Ganze erfaßt hat und das einzelne in wahrer Kunstunschuld und Bescheidenheit verschwindet’. (‘The music is in a single mould […] Indeed, the fascination of the musical development is so powerful from beginning to end that one can grasp the whole work after a single hearing and individual details simply disappear, with the innocence and reticence proper to all great art’.)115 He shares with Schmidt his especial

111 Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.129; Weber, Writings on Music, pp.201-202. 112 Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, pp.130-131; Weber, Writings on Music, p.202. 113 Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.131; Weber, Writings on Music, p.203. 114 See Weber’s letter to Rochlitz, 4 & 17 February 1816, Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.322; URL: http://www.weber-gesamtausgabe.de/de/A002068/Korrespondenz/A040878 115 Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, pp.131-132; Weber, Writings on Music, p.203.

266 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera admiration for the latter aspect—by refraining from enriching one musical number at the expense of others, Hoffmann sacrificed salvos of public applause. Hoffmann could hardly have been more flattered by Weber’s judgment concerning dramatic truth, which was Hoffmann’s prime criterion in his own opera reviews: ‘Unaufhaltsam schreitet er fort, von dem sichtbaren Streben geleitet, nur immer wahr zu sein und das dramatische Leben zu erhöhen, statt es in seinem raschen Gange aufzuhalten oder zu fesseln’. (‘He [Hoffmann] goes steadily forward, visibly guided by the determination to achieve dramatic truth and intensity instead of holding up the swift progress of the drama or shackling it in any way’.)116 Weber found the various characters to be aptly described, all breathing a typical fairytale atmosphere. The most uncanny and powerful, however, was Kühleborn, due to his characteristic melody and instrumentation. He appeared to be, if not Fate itself, then at least Fate’s direct agent. Also of great interest to Weber was the lovely water nymph Undine, and especially her aria in the second act (No. 10 ‘Wer traut des laun’gen Glückes Flügeln’), because it captured Undine’s entire character so well, the lovely and charming nymph herself as well as her great magic powers. He considered the characterization in this aria so successful that he intended to include it as a sample in a supplement to the review. Weber apparently found the aria’s inclusion important enough to wait before submitting his review until early February, when he finally received a piano reduction from Hoffmann.117 He then wrote to Rochlitz, editor of the AMZ, to explain his decision to include the aria in his review: ‘Die Beylage [...] wird wohl etwas stark werden, aber Hr. Hoffmann hat so manches Schöne für dieß Blatt mitgewirkt, und auch mein Honorar ist nicht so groß daß Hr. Härtel Schwierigkeiten machen sollte’. (‘The supplement might be somewhat extensive, but Mr. Hoffmann has contributed so many beautiful pieces for this journal, and my honorarium is so modest that Härtel will have no problem with it’.)118 Härtel, however, did have a problem with the cost of including such an extensive supplement and refused to publish the aria, leading to an indignant reaction from Weber: ‘Daß Herr Härtel die Beilage nicht drucken will, empört mich wirklich’. (‘Mr. Härtel’s refusal to publish the supplement has truly enraged me’.)119 He insisted on publication of the aria, especially in light of the fact that he had never received payment for any of his own contributions. Although the editor added a footnote to

116 Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.132; Weber, Writings on Music, p.203. 117 See Briefwechsel, II, p.125 including fn.3. 118 Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, pp.381-382. 119 Letter of 27 February 1817, Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.382. Undine 267

Weber’s review advising that the supplement would follow shortly, it was never published. Most successful, in Weber’s view, was Hoffmann’s conception of the opera’s finale, where the music of the overture was taken up in the final chorus. The impressive eight-part double chorus provided a consoling and peaceful tranquillity to the tragic outcome. Its melody was devout and deeply meaningful with grand and woeful expression. To Weber, the overture had opened up a world of magic, and the final chorus now delivered a completely consoling and satisfying end. Weber concludes on a high note:

Das ganze Werk ist eines der geistvollsten, das uns die neuere Zeit geschenkt hat. Es ist das schöne Resultat der vollkommensten Vertrautheit und Erfassung des Gegenstandes, vollbracht durch tief überlegten Ideengang und Berechnung der Wirkungen alles Kunstmaterials, zum Werke der schönen Kunst gestempelt durch schön und innig gedachte Melodien.

(The work as a whole is one of the most imaginative of recent years. It is the happy outcome of complete knowledge and understanding in its own field, achieved by deep thought and consideration and a careful calculation of all material means; and its fine, deeply felt melodies give it the hallmark of a true work of art.)120

Weber went on to praise Hoffmann’s great instrumental effects, his knowledge of harmony and often new progressions, and his correct prosody, which of course every master naturally possesses. Such wholescale acclaim of Hoffmann’s composition may easily sound exaggerated, but one should keep in mind that very few original serious German operas were composed at all. To avoid the impression that he was overpraising a composer who was also his friend, Weber cleverly referred to this friendship in the next paragraph, thus giving himself license to point out some flaws as well. One characteristic that troubled him was Hoffmann’s predilection for small, short figures, which lacked variety and could also obscure the melodic line. Weber also found fault with Hoffmann’s preference for viola and violoncello in his orchestration, for dominant-seventh chords in the harmony, and for too-abrupt cadences, which if not incorrect, were at least unsatisfactory. Finally, certain middle parts had already been used frequently by Cherubini, thus encouraging people to look for other resemblances as well. Clearly, Weber had identified an extensive list of deficiencies, most

120 Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.133; Weber, Writings on Music, p.204.

268 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera technical in nature. The fact that he nevertheless truly admired the work as a whole was evident from his diary entry and his letter to his fiancée upon hearing the opera for the first time. His enthusiastic praise in the AMZ went beyond mere flattery, and, despite some technical flaws, Undine met many of the expectations of his operatic ideal. This was also true of the stage designs and costumes, which he called ‘splendid’. These were not the only reason for the opera’s success, however, as he hastened to add. Everyone in the audience remained and paid full attention to the performance from beginning to end, and the missing applause after each number was due only to the rapid progression of the dramatic action. Weber ended his review by expressing the hope that Hoffmann would soon give the world another such worthy work.

Weber and the German Ideal

The enthusiastic compliments that Weber lavished on Undine echo his praise for another German work, Meyerbeer’s comic opera Alimelek (also called Wirth und Gast, Stuttgart 1813), which he had conducted in Prague and reviewed for the AMZ in 1815.121 In this review, Weber deplored the way in which works by German composers were often subjected to carping criticism while compositions from abroad tended to be idolized. Weber felt compelled to point out how Meyerbeer’s opera bore witness to serious artistic studies, with beautifully connected, yet independent melodic lines that provided consistency in characterization. In sum, ‘Keine Weit- schweifigkeit, alles dramatisch wahr, voll lebendiger, reger Phantasie, lieblicher, oft üppiger Melodien; stets richtige Deklamation; viele reiche, neue Harmoniewendungen; sorgfältige, oft in überraschenden Zusammen- stellungen gedachte Instrumentation –’. (‘No digression, everything dramat- ically true and full of vital imagination and charming, often voluptuous melodies, correct prosody, much rich and novel harmony and instrumentation revealing the greatest care and frequently marked by surprising combinations’.)122 As in Undine, he noted that illustrating his

121 AMZ 17: 47 (22 November 1815), cols 785-788; Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, pp.123- 127. 122 Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.125; Weber, Writings on Music, p.142. The review is based on the introductory notes Weber had written the month before for the upcoming Prague performance on 22 October 1815. His notes as well as his review were clearly inspired by an urge to promote Meyerbeer’s opera, which had unfortunately failed in Stuttgart as well as in Vienna. Weber was convinced that time would ripen judgment Undine 269 judgments with examples from the score would be futile, since such quotations taken out of context were never convincing and their character depended on the contribution that they made to the entire composition.123 As was the case with Undine, however, Weber’s laudatory remarks were not merely the result of his wish to promote German opera, nor to advertise his performance of the work. Very few received such high praise: Only Peter Winter’s Das unterbrochene Opferfest, Louis Spohr’s Faust, and Mozart’s Die Entführung aus dem Serail earned his unreserved appreciation.124 The same features that Weber admired in only a few German examples, one also finds in his reviews of French operas by Luigi Cherubini, Étienne Méhul, and François-Adrien Boieldieu. He had praised Cherubini’s Les deux journées (‘Der Wasserträger’) as ‘a genuinely dramatic classical masterpiece’, with each musical number in the right place so that nothing could be added or omitted, and he concluded: ‘Lieblicher Reichtum von Melodien, kräftige Deklamation und eine alles ergreifende Wahrheit in Auffassung der Situationen wird diese Oper ewig neu, ewig gern gesehen erhalten’. (‘This opera will always remain green and always popular, thanks to the charming abundance of its melodic inspiration, the powerful declamation and the striking truth of the situations’.)125 Weber’s extensive introduction to Cherubini’s Lodoiska, written half a year after his review of Undine, is a panegyric on the Italian-French composer, who is praised as a classical master who broke new ground in his art and will never be forgotten as one of the great heroes in music history. The depth of Cherubini’s musical spirit, Weber wrote, corresponds to the predominant Romantic tendency of the

and illustrated this view with the example of Don Giovanni, which was booed at its first performance in Frankfurt. Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.264. 123 Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.125. 124 Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, pp.118-120, 273-275, 302-304. Other German operatic products found Weber’s approval nearly impossible to earn; B. A. Weber’s Deodata, for example, he criticized for lacking imagination, and for the music frequently upholding the action (Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, pp.115-118), while Joseph Weigl tended to limit himself to the means that had brought him past success. (Reviews of Weigl’s Die Jugend Peters des Großen as well as Das Waisenhaus, Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, pp.265-266, 294-296). Friedrich Heinrich Himmel, he felt, had not found time to fully acquaint himself with the secrets of true art. (Introduction to Fanchon das Leiermädchen, Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, pp.283-285 (p.284)). He did praise Johann Nepomuk von Poißl’s grand operas Athalia (Munich, 1814) and Der Wettkampf zu Olympia (Munich, 1815) with some reservations, especially concerning their Italian influences (Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, pp.269-273, 310-312), and found encouraging words for Heinrich Marschner. (Introduction to Heinrich der Vierte und d’Aubigné, Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, pp.315-317). 125 ‘Bruchstück aus dem Briefe eines Reisenden’ (1811), Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.107; ‘Fragment from a traveller’s letter’, Weber, Writings on Music, p.77.

270 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera present day, comparable to that of Mozart and Beethoven, although to each in his own way. Weber goes on to point out the great seriousness of Cherubini’s music, often tending to gloominess, and the deep inner connection of every aspect of the opera as a whole extending to every detail, even if these initially appear random. All means are united to maximize their total effect. Weber believes that it was Mozart’s and Haydn’s works that inspired Cherubini to follow his new and innovative path.126 In addition to the operas of Cherubini, Weber also pays homage to Méhul’s Joseph (Paris, Opéra-Comique, 1807), ‘[…] wo kein unnötiger Kling- Klang die Ohren kitzelt, wo alles bloß durch die höchste Wahrheit wirkt und wo durch die weiseste Berechnung der Instrumentierung, die den vielgeübten Komponisten beurkundet, mit so wenigen Mitteln die höchsten Effekte erzeugt werden!’ (‘The ear is not titillated by any unnecessary ornament, and dramatic effect is achieved by sheer truth to nature, while skilfully calculated use of the orchestra reveals the experienced composer who can achieve dramatic effectiveness by the simplest means’.)127 Weber characterizes Cherubini and Méhul as the two most outstanding opera composers not just in France but, due to the truthfulness of their art, throughout the entire musical world. Although he accorded Cherubini the greater genius, Weber asserted that Méhul’s music was thoughtfully calculated, and betrayed thorough study of the oldest Italian masters and particularly of Gluck’s dramatic works.128 Weber considered Boieldieu to be the only contemporary French opera composer who could be ranked at a comparable level to Cherubini and Méhul. In his notes to Boieldieu’s Jean de Paris (1812), he summarized the differences between German, Italian, and French musical character. While a single idea suffices to inspire the German imagination to compose an elaborate musical work, the fiery Italian imagination needs just one word, such as ‘love’ or ‘hope’. Due to the esprit of French music, it achieves its essential quality primarily through words alone. What distinguishes the great masters from all others, according to Weber, is their ability to merge these different national characteristics into a universal style. Although Boieldieu prefers lighter Italianate forms and places more emphasis on melody than

126 Introduction to Lodoiska, (1817), Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, pp.296-300. 127 Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, 110; Weber, Writings on Music, p.79. 128 Introductory notes to Méhul’s Joseph (1817), Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, pp.278-281 (p.279). The notes reiterate his views on Méhul’s great dramatic truth, vivid advancing of the action, avoidance of unnecessary repetitions, and tremendous economy of musical means. Undine 271

Méhul, this never occurs at the expense of truthfulness to the meaning of the words.129 The ‘German’ ideal of opera that Weber defined in his Undine review, he thus had described in his earlier review of Cherubini’s Les deux journées, and would repeat in his forthcoming reviews and introductory notes on Méhul and Boieldieu. The characterization of opera as having a ‘German and French’ ideal in Tonkünstlers Leben, clearly, would therefore be more appropriate, especially since Weber conducted German adaptations of French operas for the most part, and he reviewed these works more favorably than most operas originally in German. Weber’s review of Undine seems to reflect the patriotic sentiment prevalent in Berlin at the time, which was clearly perceptible in theater productions such as Hoffmann’s Thassilo and Undine. Although the press in general did not remark on the ‘German’ connotations in Undine, as had been the case with Thassilo, the critics did point out the importance of the close alliance of the arts involved, some even praising their inseparable unity.

Romantic Ideal versus Reality

The synthesis of the arts into a ‘perfect union’, which Weber had called the ‘German’ ideal in his Undine review, would become a distinguishing feature in describing the history of German opera and would finally lead to Wagner’s notion of Gesamtkunstwerk. The case of Undine, however, also exemplifies how precarious this notion of a ‘perfect union’ of the arts actually was, given that it turned out to be more wishful thinking than reality. Given the complex process that had to unfold from a work’s conception and composition to its actual production on stage, such an ideal was hardly feasible, as becomes apparent upon a closer examination of Undine. Fouqué’s Romantic literary tale, which is set in the German Middle Ages and recounts the tragic fate of a water nymph, evokes a new poetic Golden Age. The tale, necessarily, had to be adapted for production on stage. The adaptation, however, was not limited to merely omitting banal narrative passages or dramatically-superfluous details, and adding or versifying musical numbers. As we have seen, Hoffmann was quite involved in the opera’s conception and the libretto clearly shows his influence in many respects.

129 Introductory notes to Boieldieu’s Johann von Paris (Jean de Paris) (1817), Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, pp.287-289.

272 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

The division into three acts had already required considerable changes in the configuration of the main characters. Bertalda, for example, is not introduced until the second act, while Undine disappears at the end of this act, and only Huldbrand is present throughout all three acts. More important than the shift of emphasis from the tragic fate of the water sprite to the main male character, however, is the change that occurs within the latter character. The libretto clearly places the opposition between the mundane world and the supernatural at the center of the plot. Characters necessarily belong to one or the other of these realms, with Huldbrand torn between the two and therefore between Undine and Bertalda as well. This explains why Undine’s metamorphosis after gaining a soul is hardly noticeable, as one of the critics had lamented, and Bertalda’s arrogant, haughty, and very unpleasant character is softened. Huldbrand now is closer to other Hoffmannesque heroes such as Anselmus and Nathanael, whose rational attributes draw them towards mortal women, while their poetic qualities draw them to the supernatural—in Undine, to a water sprite. Rather than simply depicting the tragic fate of Undine, however, the libretto makes its main theme the human condition, the inner conflict of mankind. As a result, characters such as the knight and the fishermen lose their fairytale- like qualities, now merely representing the world of human beings. And Fouqué’s evocation of the German Middle Ages disappears even more definitively in the process: The action no longer takes place in the Danube region; rather, the castle is now located beside a lake and Undine returns to her watery element not during the voyage to Vienna on the Danube, but in a forest stream. The most noticeable consequence of the changed dramatic concept in the libretto is the increased importance of Kühleborn, who brings to life the dark, destructive and demonic powers of nature and regularly interferes with the action in each of the three acts. Of all the male characters, he alone is given an aria, in which he angrily swears vengeance on the others. He reminds us of Sarastro (or Archivarius Lindhorst, to cite a Hoffmannesque equivalent) and the Queen of the Night blended into a single character, and he seems in particular to underscore the contrast between Undine and Ferdinand Kauer’s earlier Romantic Singspiel Das Donauweibchen (1798). In this famous predecessor, nature is seductive but never disconcerting or threatening. Kauer’s Hulda is a coloratura soprano who is assigned most of the musical numbers, although both the representatives of the magic world and the comic characters also sing—including the popular Kaspar Larifari, Albrecht’s Zechmeister. In contrast, the serious roles, notably those of Albrecht and Bertha, are spoken. Hoffmann’s Undine thus differs dramatically from Kauer’s Viennese Singspiel, which is based on magic and spectacle. By refraining from using a Undine 273 comic subplot or comic characters, Hoffmann also departs from the operatic models he admired, such as Die Zauberflöte and Don Giovanni, and is clearly choosing to write an entirely serious opera. In his characterization of Kühleborn, nature, moreover, becomes a much more powerful and demonic counterforce to the mundane world. The idea of Christian redemption, which had inspired Fouqué’s conclusion to the story as well as the libretto, was radically transformed by Hoffmann to create a more ambiguous outcome in which Huldbrand becomes visible no longer as a mortal, but now in the realm of supernatural forces. In setting the libretto to music, yet another transformation takes place. Hoffmann himself had indicated in his tale Don Juan, that the libretto and its musical composition are different entities, and he was to repeat this insight in later reviews (see Chapter Five). This proves to be true even if the composer, as was the case here, is instrumental in outlining the libretto. In Hoffmann’s musical setting, Undine and Bertalda regain some of their distinguishing features in their different musical characterizations, not only in their respective arias but also elsewhere throughout the score. In his review of the opera, Weber had intended to include Undine’s aria in Act II (No. 10) to illustrate Hoffmann’s fine characterization of her as lovely and loving being, while at the same time being a woman with great magical powers. The orchestral motif at the beginning (Musical Example 10a) is a variation of the second theme from the overture (Musical Example 10b), and Hoffmann uses it often throughout the score to accompany Undine.

Musical Example 10a: Undine, Act II, No. 10 Aria (Undine), mm. 1-5.

Musical Example 10b: Undine, Overture, mm. 75-79. 274 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Although he is the most Hoffmannesque of the characters, Huldbrand, on the other hand, never really comes to life musically. This is partly because he is not given even a single aria in which to present himself, and sings only in duets and ensembles. His torn nature is depicted musically only once—in his melodrama in Act III, following the love ‘duet’ with Bertalda (No. 16). After plaintively questioning what will become of himself (‘Was wird aus mir werden’), the orchestra plays motifs (Musical Example 11a) associated with Bertalda in the previous duet (called ‘Terzetto’ in the score due to Kühleborn’s interruptions; Musical Example 11b).

Musical Example 11a: Undine, Act III, No. 16 Terzetto [Huldbrand’s melodrama], mm. 138-142.

Musical Example 11b: Undine, Act III, No. 16 Terzetto (Huldband, Bertalda, Kühleborn), mm. 1-5.

As Huldbrand contemplates the possibility that this unearthly bride might indeed be the right one for him (‘Ach, die Unterirdische ist doch wohl die rechte!’), a longer orchestral passage (Musical Example 12a) repeats Undine’s music from the moment she had to return to her element in the Finale of Act II (Musical Example 12b): Undine 275

Musical Example 12a: Undine, Act III, No. 16 Terzetto [Huldrand’s melodrama], mm. 147-154.

Musical Example 12b: Undine, Act II, No. 14 Finale, mm. 263-271. 276 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Just as Huldbrand has collected his wits and is happily contemplating Bertalda as his bride (‘Bertalda ist meine rechte Braut – alles andre nur Gaukelspiel!’), he is musically recalled back to reality (Musical Example 13a) by the melody from the beginning of the Sextet in Act I, echoing Heilmann’s earlier blessing of the bond between Huldbrand and Undine (Musical Example 13b).

Musical Example 13a: Undine, Act III, No. 16 Terzetto [Huldrand’s melodrama], mm. 162-169.

Musical Example 13b: Undine, Act I, No. 5, Sestetto, mm. 1-8.

Although the music here effectively illustrates Huldbrand’s inner torment, all of the melodic motifs belong to other characters. Even when he speaks as a knight, offering his services and protection to Bertalda (as in the Act II Duet No. 13), the bombastic music accompanying his assurances seems not to reinforce him but rather to unmask his powerlessness, leaving the impression that Hoffmann is poking fun at the Romantic idealized cult of chivalry with its empty clang of arms (Musical Example 14). Undine 277

Musical Example 14: Undine, Act II, No. 13 Duetto (Huldbrand, Bertalda), mm. 30-38.

Hoffmann’s use of musical motifs and instrumental combinations for recalling and referring to other characters or occasions is characteristic of the entire opera. His tightly-woven web of musical cross-references, on the one hand, assured the musical unity which composer-critics such as Schmidt and Weber so greatly admired—As Weber began his critique of Hoffmann’s musical composition, truly ‘in a single mold’. On the other hand, the various characters in Undine are never fully realized and remain somewhat bleak representatives of their respective realms. The only fully-developed contrasting figure is Kühleborn, the demonic element who disturbs the world of human beings throughout the entire work. Tone repetition, octave leaps and other great intervals, and dark instrumental colors (timpani, bassoons, cello) in the accompaniment signal each appearance of his ill- omened presence. A characteristic example is his musical appearance in the Act I sextet, just after Heilmann has blessed the bond between Huldbrand and Undine (Musical Example 15). 278 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Musical Example 15: Undine, Act I, No. 5 Sestetto, mm. 62-73.

After the libretto had been reshaped by its composition, the production of the opera again needed adjusting. While Hoffmann’s opera had clearly established the dramatic struggle between the human and supernatural realms as its main theme, the stage production reverted to greater emphasis on its patriotic aspects. The markedly Gothic architecture and old German costumes, especially, enhanced the impressions of a past German Golden Age. The dramatic and scenic representation of nature and the supernatural, however, was entirely consistent with Hoffmann’s musical composition. At first, the scenery seems to present many parallels with the Viennese Donauweibchen; the latter features forests, waterfronts, rivers, and more strikingly, at the wedding of Albrecht and Bertha at the end of Part I, Hulda and Albrecht disappear together into a grotto of nixies, where Albrecht is seen kneeling at Hulda’s feet. At the end of Part II, Bertha and Albrecht are married, while Hulda and other water sprites float on a cloud above them. Undine 279

Although the finale of Undine shows a very similar design, the roles of nature and supernatural forces are dramatically different. No longer relegated merely to scenery, wild nature has conquered the stage as an uncontrollable demonic force, a novelty that none of the reviewers failed to notice. More difficult to reconstruct is the work’s musical performance onstage. Hoffmann had made it very clear that he was not happy with Romberg as conductor and would have preferred B. A. Weber. It is highly likely that more was at stake here than Romberg’s lack of experience or weaker qualities as a conductor. Hoffmann seems to have associated him more with performing simple charming pieces than tragic or soul-stirring music (see Hoffmann’s review of Romberg in Chapter Five). Hoffmann, moreover, would have preferred that the best bass at the opera, Fischer, create the role of Kühleborn. Johanna Eunike’s casting as Undine, however, was in full accordance with Hoffmann’s wishes. In a letter to the Management Secretary of the theater Johann Friedrich Esperstedt, he especially lauded her speaking and acting qualities as irreplaceable.130 In his review, Weber had described the production’s sets and costumes as ‘splendid’, but the singing and acting he qualified as ‘successful’. The quality of singing and acting, however, was essential in realizing Weber’s operatic ideal, as he reveals in his essay ‘To the Art-loving Citizens of Dresden’, written during the same month he was preparing for his new position as music director of the German opera in Dresden.131 Here he remarked that the Germans, in contrast to the Italians and the French, had not yet found their own specific form of opera, but rather were still absorbing and reworking exemplary traits from other traditions. With the Undine review still on his mind, he then stated that German opera demanded ‘ein in sich abgeschlossenes Kunstwerk, wo alle Teile sich zum schönen Ganzen runden und einen’. (‘a self-sufficient work of art, in which all the parts make up a beautiful and unified whole’.)132 Accordingly, he continued, the formation of a good ensemble was of the utmost importance, for without it the impression of unity could not be achieved. As his ultimate goal as music director, he hoped to be able to present to the public the best of every period and country through performances of the highest quality. With Hoffmann’s Undine, some steps in the right direction had been taken, but it had also become apparent that the aspired ‘perfect union’ of the arts

130 Letter of 30 August 1816, Briefwechsel, II, p.97. 131 ‘An die kunstliebenden Bewohner Dresdens’ (27 January 1817), Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, pp.276-278. 132 Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.277. 280 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera remained a precarious ideal, constantly challenged by the nature of the involved arts themselves and by the conscious and subconscious decisions of the many participants at all levels, from creation to production, and last but not least, by the work’s reception.

Dénouement

Due to Johanna Eunike’s absence during the autumn of 1816, Undine was not performed from September until 24 November. In early November, the theater manager Count Brühl approached Hoffmann with the request that he add a scene at the beginning of the opera in order to clarify the plot. At present, he argued, it was neither clear why Undine had run off into the woods nor why Huldbrand had returned to Bertalda. Brühl’s request echoed the criticism of most reviewers, who had bemoaned the obscurity of the plot. In the libretto, Bertalda’s relationship to Huldbrand is only mentioned in passing and is hardly explained in the opera. In Fouqué’s tale, after Huldbrand finds Undine and brings her back safely to the fisherman’s hut, he describes his courtship of Bertalda to the fishermen and Undine. Undine interrupts, suddenly biting Huldbrand’s finger, but undeterred, Huldbrand continues his narrative. The motive is reminiscent of Schiller’s ballad Der Handschuh, for he will receive Bertalda’s glove if only he can bring her a love token from the magic forest. Brühl’s proposal to Hoffmann was that he write a new opening dialogue based on Fouqué’s tale, in which Huldbrand is given an opportunity to describe his relationship with and courtship of Bertalda. Undine, silently listening, bites his finger and runs off into the woods. The addition of this scene, urged Brühl, would also provide a contrast to her behavior after she acquires a soul.133 Hoffmann responded positively the same day and promised to write to Fouqué immediately. His letter to Fouqué the following day is far more candid than was his response to Brühl, and he scornfully dismisses Brühl’s request as ‘eine Krücke für die Lahmen, eine Brille für die Augenkranken, ein Hörrohr für die Tauben […]’. (‘a crutch for the lame, eyeglasses for the poor-sighted, an ear trumpet for the deaf’.)134 Indeed, Brühl’s proposal was more conventional than Hoffmann’s musical setting and would destroy the highly dramatic in medias res opening that he had created at the beginning of the first act. Nevertheless, as Hoffmann admitted, adding the new scene would delay the rather

133 Letter of 7 November 1816, Briefwechsel, II, pp.109, 110. 134 Briefwechsel, II, p.112. Undine 281 precipitous musical climax and achieve more clarity overall, although beginning the opera with a long scene without music, the format Brühl had proposed, would surely kill the opera almost before it began. Hoffmann instead proposed that following the overture, the opera should begin with a quartet for the fisherman and his wife, Huldbrand, and Undine. This would be followed by the new scene proposed by Brühl. Hoffmann asked Fouqué to quickly provide him with the new text for this quartet. Fouqué, however, refused to make any changes to his libretto, and the opera returned to the stage in its original form.135 Around the same time, another request for changes came from King Friedrich Wilhelm himself. He was not pleased with Huldbrand’s fully-visible death at the end, and wanted to see the pair of lovers happily united instead. This time, Fouqué responded much more obligingly. Clearly impressed with the King’s sympathetic comisseration with the opera’s difficulties, he acceded to the King’s wishes with alacrity.136 It is unknown whether Hoffmann agreed as well, or whether any changes were made in subsequent performances of the opera. Meanwhile, directors of other theaters expressed an interest in mounting the new opera from Berlin. Hoffmann was willing to sell the score to the Viennese Kärntnertortheater for eighty ducats and to the theater in Prague for fifty.137 Hoffmann, optimistically believing Undine would be mounted in most of the major German theaters, tried to sell the performance rights to the Berlin theater in order to free himself from the need for any further negotiations with the various theater managements that had approached him. Brühl, however, kindly declined the offer.138 To his niece Minna Doerffer, Hoffmann boasted that the opera would soon be staged in

135 Letter to Brühl, 18 November 1816, Briefwechsel, II, p.117. Also see Fouqué’s letter to Brühl, 27 November 1816, Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.361. 136 Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, pp.360-361. Fouqué’s acquiescence was evidently more apparent than genuine, for according to his Denkschrift of 1842, Fouqué had first inquired sarcastically whether the King would like to see the happily-united couple dance a pas de deux as well. Schnapp, ed., Der Musiker E. T. A. Hoffmann, p.615; Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.361. 137 Concerning Vienna: Letter to Brühl, 30 October 1816, Briefwechsel, II, p.108; Brühl to Ferdinand Count Pálffy von Erdöd, 1 November 1816, Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.346. Concerning Prague: Letter to Brühl, 7 November 1816, Briefwechsel, II, p.111; Brühl to Christian Christoph Count Clam-Gallas, 13 November 1816, Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, pp.357-358. 138 Letter to Brühl, 7 November 1816, Briefwechsel, II, p.111; Brühl to Hoffmann, 12 (14) November 1816, Briefwechsel, II, p.115. In his letter to Fouqué explaining the changes, Hoffmann also discussed his expectation that Undine would be performed on the most prominent German stages. Letter of 8 November 1816, Briefwechsel, II, p.113.

282 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Vienna, Prague, Stuttgart, and Munich.139 These dreams, however, would not be fulfilled. Eventually, only one performance was mounted in Prague but, according to the AMZ, was dismally unsuccessful.140 In Vienna, Fouqué’s text was adapted by the dramatist Aloys Gleich (1772-1841) and staged as Undine, die Braut aus dem Wasserreiche at the Kärntnertortheater (1817) with music composed by Ignaz von Seyfried (1776-1841). Comparisons to the Berlin version were inevitable, and one critic in Der Gesellschafter declared himself unimpressed with both works. While both Hoffmann and Seyfried tried to avoid any resemblance between their settings of Undine and Ferdinand Kauer’s Das Donauweibchen, their efforts to do so were notably unsuccessful. According to the critic, Hoffmann’s Undine lacked soul and was a completely rational work, without deeper feeling and lacking true melody. One heard merely ‘sound-waves’, to which the listener could imagine any melody that pleased him. The critic considered the Viennese version to be more melodious, but could not help thinking of the true natural example of Kauer’s Das Donauweibchen.141 The AMZ also noted the twin-like similarities between Das Donauweibchen and the new Viennese Undine, and scornfully dismissed Seyfried’s Undine as a rather watery substitution for the Berlin version, ‘mit der originellen Musik des genialen Hofmann [!]’ (‘with its original music by the ingenious Hoffmann’).142 Wilhelm Müller called Seyfried’s setting of Undine a moralized version with a happier ending than Hoffmann’s all-too-heathen conclusion in Berlin. Müller considered Seyfried’s music to be devoid of originality, but praised the performance’s impressive stage design.143 In Berlin Hoffmann’s and Fouqué’s Undine had a total of fourteen performances, with the final performance taking place on 27 July 1817. Two days later, on 29 July, the theater caught fire and burned to the ground, destroying all of the production’s sets and costumes. Hoffmann accepted the disastrous fire with detached humor. From his quarters directly opposite the theater, he watched the flames spread to the adjacent buildings, and sardonically described the scene in a letter to Adolph Wagner:

139 Letter of 8 November, 1816, Briefwechsel, II, p.114. 140 AMZ 23: 24 (13 June 1821), col.419. 141 Der Gesellschafter, no. 159 (27 September 1817); Schnapp, ed., Der Musiker E. T. A. Hoffmann, p.490. 142 AMZ 19: 40 (1 October 1817), col.692; Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, pp.407-408, Schnapp, ed., Der Musiker E. T. A. Hoffmann, p.491. 143 Der Gesellschafter, no. 198 (5 December 1817); Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.420; Schnapp, ed., Der Musiker E. T. A. Hoffmann, pp.495-496. Undine 283

Ich könte Ihnen erzählen, daß ich bey dem Brande des Theaters von dem ich nur 15 bis 20 Schritt entfernt wohne, in die augenscheinlichste Gefahr gerieth da das Dach meiner Wohnung bereits brante, noch mehr! – daß der Credit des Staats wankte, da, als die Perückenkammer in Flammen stand und fünftausend Perücken aufflogen, Unzelmanns Perücke aus dem Dorfbarbier mit einem langen Zopf, wie ein bedrohliches feuriges Meteor über dem Bankgebaüde schwebte – […] daß beide gerettet sind, ich und der Staat. Ich durch die Kraft von drey Schlauchspritzen wovon der einen ich eine böse Wunde mit einer seidenen Schürze meiner Frau verband, der Staat durch einen kouragösen Gardejäger auf der Taubenstraße, der […] besagtes Ungethüm durch einen wohlgezielten Büchsenschuß herabschoß. Zum Tode getroffen, zischend und brausend sank es nieder in den Pißwinkel des Schonertschen Weinhauses – Hierauf stiegen sofort die Staatspapiere! – Ist das nicht Stoff zum Epos?

(I could tell you that during the burning of the theater, from which I live only fifteen or twenty steps, I came under the most manifest danger, since the roof of my apartment was already on fire, still more! That the credit of the state wavered, there, as the wig room was in flames and five thousand wigs flew up, Unzelmann’s wig from the Dorfbarbier with a long pigtail like an ominous fiery meteor soared over the bank building—…and as it so happened, both were saved, I and the state. I through the strength of three hosemen for one of whom I bound a nasty wound with one of my wife’s silk petticoats; the state through a courageous guardsman on Taubenstraße, who as several hoses were pointed in vain at the rising wigs, brought down the abovementioned monstrosity with a well-aimed musket shot. Fatally wounded, it sank whizzing and roaring into the piss pot of the Schonert wine house—upon which fell immediately the government bonds! Is that not epic stuff?)144

Hoffmann furnished his account with a drawing that showed the state- saving shot at the burning wig.145 Hoffmann’s humorous description notwithstanding, the suspension of performances of Undine was a serious blow to his ambitions. Only in April, he had complained to Fouqué how he and Julius Eduard Hitzig were both bound to a Promethean rock (the court), and thus enjoyed no holidays in which to take a trip or an excursion.146 A week later, Hoffmann even applied for a vacant position as legal adviser (Justitiarius) at the theater, but Brühl appointed Johann Heinrich Schmucker to the post instead.147 In June, Hoffmann disclosed his plans for a new opera to Brühl, inquiring whether the director would be interested in the project.148 He had

144 Letter of 25 November 1817, Briefwechsel, II, p.147. English translation in Bomberger, ‘The Neues Schauspielhaus in Berlin’, p.342 Endnote 9. 145 See Briefwechsel, II, p.148. 146 Letter of 3 April 1817, Briefwechsel, II, p.127. 147 Brühl to Hardenberg, 10 April 1817, Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.392. 148 Letter to Brühl, 24 June 1817, Briefwechsel, II, pp.132-133.

284 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera chosen Calderón de la Barca’s El Galán fantasma (The Handsome Ghost), and had asked his friend and Serapions-brother Carl Wilhelm Salice-Contessa (1777-1825) to write the libretto. ‘Rücksichts der höchst interressanten Handlung, der frappanten Situationen und der wohllautenden ächt musikalischen Verse’ (‘in view of the exceedingly interesting action, the striking situations, and the sonorous, really musical verses’), Hoffmann believed that this opera text could hardly be equalled.149 He was so enthused by the poem that he had already composed the entire opera in his head. Before writing out the score, however, he proposed it to Brühl, inquiring whether Brühl would be interested in staging the opera, which would then be entitled Der Liebhaber nach dem Tode (The Lover After Death). He would be able to deliver the score by 1 October, in time for a performance during the winter season.150 Brühl’s response in early July was positive and he requested a copy of the libretto, since he already owned a translation (prepared by the poet and playwright Helmina von Chézy) and wanted to compare the two.151 From Contessa’s correspondence we know that by mid-August, the poet had only completed the first act; on 1 February 1818, two acts were ready.152 Contessa was not in a hurry to complete the third act, insisting he hated opera and first wanted to write a narrative and a comedy. Hoffmann remained optimistic, nevertheless, and as he declared to his friend Theodor Gottlieb von Hippel, he still hoped to bring his new opera to the stage in the autumn of the following year.153 Not until late August 1818, however,

149 Briefwechsel, II, p.133; Selected Letters, p.270. 150 Briefwechsel, II, p.133. Schnapp presumes that it was discussions with Weber, and especially the latter’s positive review of Undine, which had encouraged Hoffmann to embark on a new opera project. (Friedrich Schnapp, ‘E. T. A. Hoffmanns letzte Oper’, Schweizerische Musikzeitung 88: 8/9 (1 September 1948), 339-345 (pp.341, 342).) Given Hoffmann’s enthusiasm for Calderón de la Barca, his lifelong preoccupation with opera, and his efforts to obtain a less demanding and time-consuming position, Hoffmann most likely would have taken on this new challenge even without Weber’s encouragement. Later that year, he also made plans with Fouqué for a new opera project. When Brühl asked Fouqué for a libretto for B. A. Weber in November 1818, Fouqué declined, because he had already promised a libretto to Hoffmann more than a year before (letter of 14 December 1818, Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, pp.457- 458). Hoffmann wanted to write an opera seria, as he declared emphatically in his letter of 15 July 1819, but finding a subject apparently was not easy. He rejected Fouqué’s suggestion and proposed they discuss the project further when they could meet in person. Briefwechsel, II, p.217. 151 Letter of 5 (6) July 1817, Briefwechsel, II, p.134. 152 Letter of Contessa to Hitzig, 11 August 1817, and Contessa to Karl Schall, 1 February 1818, Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, pp.406, 431. 153 Letter of 15 December 1817, Briefwechsel, II, p.152. Undine 285 could he write to Brühl that Contessa had finally completed all three acts, and that he himself had begun its composition.154 Brühl did not mention Hoffmann’s new project in his reply, but rather assured the composer that he intended to restage Undine. Since he considered the ‘lovely Undine’ more suitable for the Schauspielhaus, whose rebuilding had just begun, the opera would not be scheduled in the larger opera house. Brühl also attached his request for a new introduction as a conditio sine qua non for restaging Hoffmann’s opera.155 A year and a half passed before Hoffmann turned to Brühl again, this time to request that he persuade Fouqué to quickly write the text of the quartet for the new scene to be added to the beginning of the opera. Musically, the opera would benefit too, he assured Brühl, for in the new version of Undine, the storm would be depicted only once, not twice, as was now the case.156 On 8 June 1820, Hoffmann enclosed a detailed plan outlining the changes he envisioned, and four days later, Brühl confirmed that Fouqué had agreed to cooperate.157 The dedication ceremony for the new theater was held on 26 May 1821 and shortly after the theater had opened, Hoffmann inquired when Brühl was planning to restage Undine.158 Brühl assured him that he would try to organize a new production during the winter, and inquired, in turn, whether the changes to the beginning of the first act had been completed.159 By mid-November, however, he had to apologize for still not having started rehearsals, promising a restaging in the

154 Letter of 28 August 1818, Briefwechsel, II, p.174. After Hoffmann’s death, Hitzig found Contessa’s libretto and Hoffmann’s fragmentary composition, and sent both to the poet. As Contessa’s thank-you letter reveals, Hoffmann had composed even more parts of the opera than Hitzig had found among Hoffmann’s papers. All of the music has now been lost; the libretto was published in vol. 7 of C. W. Contessa’s Schriften (Leipzig: Göschen, 1826). Schnapp, ed., Der Musiker E. T. A. Hoffmann, p.555. 155 Letter of 29 (30) August 1818, Briefwechsel, II, p.175. 156 Letter of 3 March 1820, Briefwechsel, II, pp.240-241. 157 Letters of 8 & 12 June 1820, Briefwechsel, II, pp.261, 262. Brühl sent Hoffmann’s outline to Fouqué on 18 June, and the poet responded positively on 26 June, assuring he would try to provide the new exposition soon. Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, pp.539-540. 158 Letter of 14 July 1821, Briefwechsel, II, pp.305-306. 159 Letters of 31 July & 3 (4) September 1821, Briefwechsel, II, pp.309, 313-314. Hoffmann responded that he was no longer counting on the staging of his opera in winter, and had therefore not started to make the requested changes. He kept quiet about the fact that Fouqué had still not delivered the text. Brühl once more repeated his intention to stage the opera during the winter season. Letters of 10 & 23 September, 1821, Briefwechsel, II, pp.315, 318.

286 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera spring, and again requesting the changed introduction.160 Another reminder followed in June 1822, but ten days later, before he could reply, Hoffmann was dead. Fouqué did not complete and send the new introduction to Brühl until 18 November. After considering several possible composers, among them Carl Maria von Weber and Carl Friedrich Zelter, Brühl followed Fouqué’s suggestion and asked Johann Christoph Kienlen (1783-1829) to compose the new introduction. Although Kienlen completed the task, Undine with its new introduction was never performed in Berlin.161 Hans Pfitzner’s piano reduction, published in 1906, finally brought Hoffmann’s final opera back into the public eye.162 Pfitzner also wrote an appreciative essay, in which he described Undine as ‘actually the first German Romantic opera’, which probably played a more important role behind the scenes in music history than is generally assumed.163 Pfitzner, like Weber before him, was correct in pointing out that Undine emphatically distinguished itself from the North German and Viennese Singspiel traditions with its unequivocally serious character, its emphasis on the dramatic action (in large part taking place in extensive ensembles), its major role for the chorus, and the colorful, sometimes even descriptive orchestral accompaniment. Weber had praised all of these features in his review and, although calling such a unified whole the ‘German’ ideal, his other reviews reveal that he fully recognized these unique features of the opera as being characteristic of French opéra comique.164 For Weber, German music was an

160 Letter of 14 June 1822, Briefwechsel, II, p.382. 161 Letters of 18 November, 13 & 16 December 1822, Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, pp.678, 680, 681. Also see Schnapp, ed., Der Musiker E. T. A. Hoffmann, p.612. Fouqué also produced a new version of his Undine, which was composed by Christian Friedrich Johann Girschner (1794-1860). A concert performance took place on 19 May 1830 in Berlin, and a full staging in Danzig on 20 March 1837. Schnapp, ed., Der Musiker E. T. A. Hoffmann, pp.588, 604, 610, 612; Dams, p.26. 162 The first performance, however, would not take place until 1922 in Aachen, followed by Bamberg (1926) and Leipzig (1933); the full score appeared in the early 1970s: E. T. A. Hoffmann, Ausgewählte musikalische Werke, herausgegeben im Auftrage der Musikgeschichtlichen Kommission e.V., 12 vols (Mainz: Schott, 1971-2006), I- III: Undine. Zauberoper in 3 Akten, ed. by Jürgen Kindermann (1971-1972). Much earlier, on 4 April 1839, Felix Mendelssohn had performed the overture, the duet of Bertalda and Huldbrand (Act II, no. 13) and the sextet (Act I, no. 5) during a concert at the Leipzig Gewandhaus. Schnapp, ed., Der Musiker E. T. A. Hoffmann, p.617 fn.1. 163 ‘E. T. A. Hoffmanns “Undine”’, Süddeutsche Monatshefte iii/7-12 (1906), 370-380. Repr. in Hans Pfitzner, Gesammelte Schriften, 3 vols (Augsburg: Filser, 1926), I, pp.55- 74. 164 This influence has until recently been neglected in histories of German opera, which saw a more continuous ‘German’ development from Hoffmann, Spohr, Weber, to Undine 287 amalgamation of the best of other styles, although he clearly preferred French over Italian influences (hence, he did not mention Bertalda’s aria introduced by recitative in Act III). For the composition of Undine, while departing decisively from Singspiel traditions and compositional principles, as well as from its predilection for sentimental, domestic and magic topics, Hoffmann drew from foreign, mainly French, models that he admired, a preference he shared with Weber and Spohr. This cosmopolitan mindset is particularly evident in the opera reviews that Hoffmann wrote in Berlin between 1815-1817 and in his appraisal of Gaspare Spontini from around 1820.

Wagner (see Chapter Seven). In his extensive study Undine auf dem Musiktheater, Jürgen Schläder, for example, does not discuss the influence of French opéra comique, but notices remnants from South German Singspiel and Italian opera, while the innovative intentions (unity of the arts) are pointing towards early Romantic opera. Although no longer a Singspiel, it was in his view still far removed from a Musikdrama (pp.349-352, 355). Much has been made of Hoffmann’s use of reminiscence motifs (e.g. Pfitzner, Gesammelte Schriften, I, p.70; Aubrey S. Garlington, Jr., ‘Notes on dramatic Motives in Opera: Hoffmann’s “Undine”’, The Music Review 32: 2 (May 1971), 136-145), which were always interpreted as an anticipation of Wagner’s Leitmotiv. They are, however, more accurately defined as a feature also found in opéra comique.

Chapter Five Berlin Reviews I: Dramaturgisches Wochenblatt and Vossische Zeitung

After Count Brühl had assumed direction of the theater in January 1815, the Dramaturgisches Wochenblatt in nächster Beziehung auf die königlichen Schauspiele zu Berlin (DW) was established. The editor of this new weekly journal was the classical archeologist and author Konrad Levezow (1770-1835); author Franz Horn (1781-1837) was his coeditor. In the first issue of 8 July 1815, the editors praised the theater’s new management and declared that the journal’s main objective was to regularly inform the public about the most recent developments onstage and behind the scenes, and to take note of the improvements, from a historical perspective, that could now be expected in the development of German dramatic art.1 The fact that the journal was also the official organ of the new management is evident from Levezow’s defense a year later against allegations of publishing excessively mild reviews in his journal. True criticism, he stated, is grounded in love for the cause and for art, of which mildness and leniency are intrinsic qualities.2 The journal was just one month old when Brühl asked Hoffmann to contribute musical reviews to the DW. Hoffmann commented on this request in a letter to Fouqué:

Brühl hat […] mich zugleich aufgefordert, in dem (aüßerst steifen und langweiligen) dramaturgischen Blatt die musikalische Parthie zu übernehmen. Vielleicht gelingt es mir, da ich weder Professor noch Doktor bin, etwas Leben hineinzubringen, wenn mir der Himmel viel Laune und Athem schenkt!

(Brühl […] at the same time asked me to take over the musical part of the (extremely stiff and boring) Dramaturgisches Wochenblatt [Dramaturgical Weekly]. I

1 Dramaturgisches Wochenblatt (DW) no. 1 (8 July 1815), p.2 2 ‘Sie glauben es sich eher zum Lobe als zum Tadel anrechnen zu können, wenn man ihnen zuweilen den Vorwurf einer zu großen Milde in ihren Kritiken gemacht hat. Die ächte Kritik ist fern von allen persönlichen Rücksichten und stützt sich nur auf Liebe zur Sache und der Kunst, und von dieser ist Milde und Schonung unzertrennlich’. (‘They believe it should be taken as praise rather than criticism, if they have sometimes been met with allegations of too much mildness in their critiques. Genuine criticism is far removed from all personal considerations and is only based on love for the cause and the arts, from which mildness and consideration are inseparable’.) DW no. 26 (29 June 1816), p.201. 290 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

may succeed in bringing some life into it, since I am neither a professor nor a doctor, provided heaven gives me a lot of good humor and breath!)3

Hoffmann’s poor opinion of the new journal and his rather malicious barb against Professor Levezow and Doctor Horn, who wrote many of the articles themselves, clearly indicated that their efforts left much to be desired with regard to artistic insight and creativity. Hoffmann’s reviews for the journal, which ceased publication after 28 June 1817, can be divided into two groups: the first appearing in 1815, the second in 1816, followed by his final contribution of 1817, entitled Die Kunstverwandten (The Ones Related through Art), a lengthy satire on the problems of staging an opera, and theatrical issues in general.

Reviews of 1815

Hoffmann took up his task seriously and reviewed five out of the ten operatic productions staged during September 1815. As the subjects of his reviews, he selected two German works, (Winter’s Opferfest and B. A. Weber’s Sulmalle), two Italian operas (Paer’s Camilla and Mozart’s Don Giovanni), and one French work (Sacchini’s Œdipe à Colonne). Since only one of these five reviews has been translated into English, each will be briefly discussed here.4 Considering these reviews in light of the cultural and political developments in Berlin and its theater reveals that they are more than simply routine reviews of random performances at the Prussian capital’s theater.5 Hoffmann’s careful selection of German, Italian, and French works indicates his interest in various opera traditions, but more importantly, the way he formulated his critiques and the aspects he commented on also reveal both his awareness of his reviews’ political and personal implications and a conscious agenda for the future of opera, particularly in Berlin.

In the first review, which appeared on 23 September 1815, Hoffmann discussed a performance of Peter von Winter’s Das unterbrochene Opferfest (The

3 Letter of 16 August 1815, Briefwechsel, II, p.70; Selected Letters, p.254. 4 Review of Mozart’s Don Giovanni, see Charlton, pp.397-401. 5 Norbert Miller uses the term ‘Routine-Besprechung’, and states that Hoffmann’s Berlin reviews of 1815 and 1816 add almost nothing new. Miller, ‘Hoffmann und Spontini’, pp.416 fn.25, 420, 421). Gerhard Allroggen sees these reviews as being cursory reflections of day-to-day performances, sometimes scribbled in haste. Kremer, E. T. A. Hoffmann. Leben – Werk – Wirkung, pp.423-424. Berlin Reviews I 291

Interrupted Sacrifice) of 9 September. This heroic comic Singspiel premièred in Vienna in 1796 and soon became Winter’s most popular opera. In Berlin, it was first performed in 1797, but Hoffmann already knew the work from its performance during his time in Bamberg. Hoffmann acknowledged this opera as being Winter’s masterpiece, but immediately placed the work in a broader perspective:

Hohe Genien, wie Gluck und Mozart durchlaufen in der höchsten Sonnenzeit ihres Lebens einen Zyklus, bezeichnet durch Werke, deren jedes ihre innere Welt darstellt, aber in immer wechselnden, immer neuen herrlichen Erscheinungen. Andern wackern Meistern genügt ein Werk […] und dies möchte bei Winter und seinem Opferfest der Fall sein.

(Great geniuses, such as Gluck and Mozart, bring forth at the peak of their lives a cycle of works, each of which represents their inner world, be it in ever- changing, ever-new magnificent appearances. For other proficient masters, one work suffices […] and this may be the case with Winter’s Opferfest.)6

Winter was thus ranked among the ‘proficient’ composers whose talents and abilities could not be compared to the genius of Hoffmann’s idols, Gluck and Mozart. Nevertheless, Hoffmann praised the music of Das Opferfest as ‘deeply felt’ and ‘full of character’. His favorable impression of the work, however, was due in particular to the performance, since the part for Pedrillo, the comic character of the piece, had been omitted. Although Hoffmann certainly did not advocate cutting or omitting parts of a score, in this case he believed that the work’s unity and consistency had benefited from doing so: ‘Dieser matte Spaßmacher läuft keuchend neben der Oper her, ohne auch nur ein einzigesmal hineinkommen zu können […]’. (‘This dull jester runs panting alongside the entire opera, without ever actually participating even once […]’.)7 It was not the first time that Pedrillo’s part had been omitted.8 Carl Maria von Weber had praised Pedrillo’s omission in a performance in Munich in 1811 for exactly the same reason: Although some delightful music was lost, he argued, the work profited greatly in terms of disposition and unity.9 Weber here seemed to be less reserved than Hoffmann had been about the quality of Winter’s music, as he deemed it so

6 Schriften zur Musik, p.290. 7 Schriften zur Musik, p.291. 8 Stephen Meyer elaborates on this work’s transformation into an Italian opera semiseria (Il sacrifizio interotto) and into a heroisch-tragische Oper, a move preferred by both Weber and Hoffmann. Meyer, Carl Maria von Weber and the Search for a German Opera, pp.35- 51. 9 Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.119.

292 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

‘excellent’ that further comments were superfluous. In a review six years later however, Weber concluded, much as Hoffmann had, that a single successful work often ‘inclines the author to continue in the same vein which has brought him success’ instead of taking any risk in search of new paths. Even such a distinguished composer as Winter therefore only produced one exceptional masterpiece.10 In his 1815 review, Hoffmann had made the same observation; Winter’s Opferfest ‘enthält seinen glänzendsten Reichtum und ist wohl sein Schatzkästlein geworden, aus dem er manchen Juwel nahm, um später Geschaffenes damit zu schmücken’. (‘contains all his riches and has apparently become his treasure chest, from which he took his jewels to embellish later works’.)11 For both Hoffmann and Weber, Winter was not an innovative genius from whom more important works could be expected. The way forward had to be found elsewhere. Most of Hoffmann’s review of Winter’s Opferfest lavished praise on the singers, except for Herr Gerstäcker from Hamburg, on whom Hoffmann remarked that he appeared to be talented but lacked artistic education, and was unconvincing in his acting. He bestowed high praise on Josephine Schulze, the leading soprano after the death of Margarethe Schick, and a lengthy encomium on Joseph Fischer, whom Hoffmann called one of the greatest contemporary singers. Apart from the solo parts, Hoffmann also expressed his admiration for the ensemble singing, and made special mention of the voices of Christian Gottlob Rebenstein and Heinrich Blume.12 Finally, he also took note of the improved quality of the chorus.

In the second review, published in the same issue of the DW (23 September 1815), Hoffmann discussed the performance on 12 September of Ferdinando Paer’s dramma semiserio Camilla (première: Vienna, 1799). The

10 Review of Joseph Weigl’s ‘Das Waisenhaus’ (1817), Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.295. 11 Schriften zur Musik, p.290. 12 Heinrich Blume reacted indignantly in the Vossische Zeitung three days later, as he had not been singing at all in the sextet Hoffmann mentioned. Since this sextet is mentioned as an example in a subordinate clause followed by ‘etc.’, it is not clear whether Hoffmann made a mistake or whether his praise was meant for the ensemble pieces in general: ‘die mehrstimmigen Sachen wie z.B. gleich Anfangs das bekannte: ‘Zieht ihr Krieger’ etc. waren von wunderbarem Wohlklange, wozu die heute gar anmutig tönende Stimme Herrn Rebensteins, so wie Herrn Blumes sonorer hoher Baß nicht wenig beitrugen’. (‘The polyphonic settings, as for example right at the beginning the famous ‘Zieht ihr Krieger’ etc., had a wonderfully harmonious sound, to which Herr Rebenstein‘s voice, sounding especially appealing today, and Herr Blume’s sonorous high bass contributed quite considerably’. Schriften zur Musik, p.292) The incident, however, showed the delicacy with which each word had to be weighed in writing about performances on the Berlin stage. Berlin Reviews I 293 opera’s first performance in Berlin took place in 1801, but Hoffmann became familiar with the opera while he was in Bamberg, and he had conducted it twice in Leipzig in 1814. Camilla, modeled after French rescue operas, remained a highly popular work until well into the nineteenth century. The opening paragraph of Hoffmann’s review essentially summarized the observations he had presented in his review of Paer’s Sofonisba for the AMZ in 1811. In this earlier review, he had started with a general characterization of the respective strengths and weaknesses of Italian and German operas:

Die neuere italienische Musik schmeichelt bekanntlich dem Ohre durch angenehme Melodien, und gibt dem Sänger Gelegenheit, seine Kunstfertigkeit im höchsten Glanze zu zeigen: aber das eigentlich Dramatische, den Ausdruck der Handlung, der Situation, vernachlässigt sie in dem Grade, als es die deutschen Komponisten zur Hauptsache machen, und freilich oft darüber das Individuum des Sängers und was in seiner Kehle liegen kann, vergessen.

(It is well known that modern Italian music flatters the ear with pleasant melodies and gives singers the opportunity to show their skill with the utmost brilliance. But it neglects the genuinely dramatic element, the meaning of the action and situation, to the same degree that German composers make it their main concern and indeed in so doing often forget the singer’s individuality and what his throat is capable of.)13

In both traditions, as Hoffmann points out, opportunities are missed due to their focus on one aspect at the expense of the other. He goes on to praise Paer as one of the best Italian composers living today, who will, however, never be able to satisfy German critics in his serious, heroic operas. After citing numerous examples to illustrate where the music lacks dramatic impact or introduces buffo character at the most tragic moments, Hoffmann reiterates his earlier observation that this music would be completely satisfying to those for whom opera was only a ‘glorified concert’, but not for those who ‘deeply revere the classical works of Gluck and Mozart’ and expected a genuine musical drama. On the German and French stages, therefore, works by Paer would only gain temporary popularity through the efforts of excellent singers. In this AMZ review, Hoffmann also touched briefly on Camilla, a work that, in his view, ‘seemed to lean towards serious, German music’, capturing the characters and situation with more precision than any of Paer’s later works. This was exactly the starting point for Hoffmann’s Camilla review of 1815: Regarding the music, he noted, Camilla was by far the most dramatic

13 Schriften zur Musik, p.68; Charlton, p.263.

294 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera of all operas by this master, while his more recent works were no more than ‘concerts with scenery and costumes’.14 This characterization explicitly refers back to Hoffmann’s earlier review of Sofonisba, and also echoes his review of Gluck’s Iphigénie en Aulide (1810).15 The 1815 review of Camilla only mentioned the scene Hoffmann considered the most impressive moment of the opera: the pantomime of the Duke in Act I, here performed by Joseph Fischer. The remainder of the review complimented the singers but criticized one scene in which the impression made by the tormented, lonely Duke would have been highlighted if he had been carrying a candle while entering the stage in the dark, as Ludwig Devrient had done so effectively in his role as Franz Moor in Schiller’s Die Räuber. It is informative to compare Hoffmann’s review to another one relating to a performance of Paer’s Achille, which appeared only two months later in the DW, signed ‘v. G’.16 This review opened with the observation that Italian operas, and in particular those by Paer, did not belong on the stage but, the critic concluded, much as Hoffmann had, were suitable for performance only in a concert hall. The review was filled with negative criticisms and demeaning remarks, e.g., the overture consisted of no more than an ‘insipid, empty trumpet fanfare’, revealing no reference to the subject matter of the opera nor any consideration of an overture’s proper function. The reviewer was stunned, however, by the rich embellishments in Achille’s aria, and as for the argument of this being typical of all Italian opera, this was exactly the point he wanted to make: The Italian composer had used the text only as a vehicle for his music, pulling and tugging at the vocals ad nauseam.17 In March 1816, the same reviewer commented on Paer’s Camilla, accusing the composer of displaying an ‘antipoetic character’. As examples of this tendency, he pointed to the ‘boring’ aria introductions and the ‘sweetish’ portrayal of Loredano, who watered down the entire work with

14 Schriften zur Musik, p.293. 15 In similar terms, Hoffmann had described the erroneous tendency he observed in the development of modern opera: ‘So wie die mehrsten unserer neuesten Opern nur Konzerte sind, die auf der Bühne im Kostüm gegeben werden: so ist die Glucksche Oper das wahre musikalische Drama, in welchem die Handlung unaufhaltsam von Moment zu Moment fortschreitet’. (‘Whereas the majority of our most recent operas are only concerts performed in costume on the stage, Gluck’s opera is true musical drama, in which the action moves forward without stopping from one moment to the next’.) Schriften zur Musik, p.64; Charlton, p.259. 16 Friedrich Sigismund von Grunenthal (1780-1855), see Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/2, p.655; Grunenthal was ‘Geheimer Oberfinanzrat’, author and translator, and was ennobled in 1812. 17 DW no. 21 (25 November 1815), p.163. Berlin Reviews I 295 his farfetched artificial melodies and weakened the strongest dramatic moments with perfume.18 In principle, Hoffmann’s and G[runenthal]’s views were not far apart with respect to the predominant role played in Italian opera by the singer and by virtuosic displays at the expense of dramatic development, but Hoffmann was much more careful than G[runenthal] in articulating his criticism. Without concealing his preference, he nevertheless explained the differences between Italian and German or French opera on the basis of cultural tastes and traditions, and avoided the highly negative judgments and characterizations with which G[runenthal] had peppered his discussion. Hoffmann’s reviews of operas by Winter and Paer show respect for both composers and offer indirect praise to the theater’s new director, Brühl, for having selected the best of their works. Hoffmann especially welcomed the emphasis on the serious character of the works presented, even if this meant omitting comic elements. Nevertheless, it was clear that neither Winter’s German nor Paer’s Italian operas showed the way to the future as Hoffmann envisioned it. Particularly notable was Hoffmann’s generous praise of the Berlin singers, and Joseph Fischer in particular.

Hoffmann’s third review critiqued a performance of Antonio Sacchini’s tragédie lyrique Œdipe à Colonne (Versailles, 1786). This was not the first time that Hoffmann had publicized his opinions on this opera. He had mentioned the work in his AMZ contribution of 1814 (see Chapter Three) and in his letter on music in Berlin (refer to Chapter Six). In his article for the AMZ, Hoffmann had corrected his earlier judgments of placing even Piccinni above Sacchini, not to mention Gluck, and praised Œdipe as being so profound in its lofty, genuinely tragic expression and noble simplicity that Sacchini should be ranked on par with those composers.19 In his review for the DW nine months later (published 30 September 1815), Hoffmann formulated this view more precisely: In comparison to modern opera composers, Sacchini impressed his audiences through his simplicity and could achieve great effect with modest means: ‘Jeder Moment ist weise berechnet, und, was nicht genug gerühmt werden kann, die Musik ist wahrhaft dramatisch, d. h. aus Handlung, Situation, Charakter sich erzeugend’. (‘Each moment is calculated wisely, and the genuinely dramatic character of his music can’t be praised enough, as it is the direct result of action, situation, and character’.)20

18 DW no. 10 (9 March 1816), p.80. 19 Schriften zur Musik, p.284. 20 Schriften zur Musik, p.295.

296 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

What was lacking in Paer’s operas, Hoffmann acknowledged that he found to perfection in the work of another Italian composer, Sacchini, whose musical gifts he attributed to the influence of Gluck, since Sacchini had heard the latter’s operas in Paris. The French influence, however, also involved negative consequences: while the source for Œdipe, Sophocles’s tragedy, depicted the tragic consequences of a king’s merciless fate, the French version changed the plot into a family drama, in which the quarrels between a good ‘pater familias’ and his son were central. Given this French version of the drama, Hoffmann would prefer to see Œdipus portrayed in the style of the painting of the blind Bélisaire (1795) by François Gérard. With respect to costume and design, Hoffmann clearly considered the character of the work to be at least as important as the era in which it was set. Among his suggestions for costuming, he proposed that the Eumenides be represented by human beings dressed in authentic antique costumes. As evidence of the effectiveness of Sacchini’s setting of Œdipe, Hoffmann singled out, as the dramatic climax of the opera, the curse scene in Act III in which Œdipus curses his son Polynices, praising Fischer for his masterly execution of the role.21 The 1815 review would not be the last time that Hoffmann paid particular critical attention to Sacchini; in 1816 he was to review Œdipe again. This review will be discussed as part of the second group of reviews for the DW.

Hoffmann’s fourth review (published 7 October 1815) was dedicated to the ‘Oper aller Opern’ (‘opera of all operas’), Mozart’s Don Giovanni. In his tale Don Juan (see Chapter Two), Hoffmann had criticized the deviations from Mozart’s original score, especially the replacement of the recitatives with spoken dialogue the emphasis on and expansion of comic elements, and the use of actors who could barely sing their parts. The 1815 review opened with the complaint he had expressed previously in his contribution Ritter Gluck; namely, that Mozart’s masterpiece had been neglected for far too long. This charge is immediately followed by lavish praise for the new theater management, who offered a new production of Mozart’s opera with the utmost care for scenery and other effects. Nevertheless, despite all these efforts, Hoffmann found the performance far from perfect, a failing which he ascribed to the difficulty and poetic depth of the work itself. The main obstacle to a convincing performance, in Hoffmann’s view, was the omission of the recitatives. Accordingly, he proposed the following

21 This is in dramatic contrast to Hoffmann’s letter on music in Berlin, in which he condemned the pretentious and mannered Œdipus in the opera performance, also sung by Fischer. Berlin Reviews I 297 compromises: The main scenes should not be interrupted by spoken dialogue, but rather, should be connected through the recitatives. These recitatives, he believed, could easily be translated into German, and if accompanied by a string quartet, would provide a fuller sound than the traditional continuo. Fischer’s talent for recitation, moreover, would ensure a much livelier performance. Hoffmann lauded Fischer’s achievement in the role of Don Giovanni, and admired his virtuosity and portrayal of the protagonist’s character. He considered Fischer’s delivery of the aria ‘Treibt der Champagner’ (Fin ch’han dal vino) without equal, and to Hoffmann’s joy, Fischer repeated it ‘nicht allein mit italienischen Worten, sondern auch mit italienischem Geiste und Feuer’ (‘not only with Italian words but also with Italian spirit and fire’).22 Clearly, Italian here bore a positive connotation, as it had had earlier in Hoffmann’s tale Don Juan. Rich melodic embellishments were not repudiated per se as long as they did not distort the inner character and spirit of the music. Hoffmann pointed this out with regard to Auguste Schmalz’s tasteful embellishments in Donna Anna’s great aria in the first act Or sai chi l’onore, and used the opportunity to illustrate how music could create the drama with its own means: When Donna Anna challenges Don Ottavio to avenge her father’s death, Don Ottavio responds with ‘lo giuro’ in the tonic, thus confirming and resolving her challenge ‘giura!’ on the dominant. In this case, melodic embellishments would destroy the dramatic effect of the music, and therefore should be avoided. Hoffmann praised all of the other singers as well,23 except Karl Wilhelm Ferdinand Unzelmann, who as an actor played his role well but could not sing Leporello’s part, thus destroying the effect of the whole, in which every part was essential. Hoffmann, however, hastened to praise Unzelmann’s great comic achievements. The remainder of the review was concerned with stage sets, and Hoffmann carefully meted out both praise and criticism. The statue, for example, should be more static, its coat should look more like stone, and no real feathers should decorate his helmet. Hoffmann praised the scenic arrangements and the Gothic hall in the finale of the second act, but felt that the effect was ruined by the servants, who continued to stoically clear the table when the statue appeared, which should be a most terrifying moment. The closing ballet by Georg Joseph Vogler is criticized, although

22 Schriften zur Musik, p.299; Charlton, p.399. 23 Charlton mistakenly lists Johanna Eunike as Zerlina (p.397); however, this role was sung by her mother Therese Eunike. Johanna first sang Zerlina on 6 March 1816 (see DW no. 14 (6 April 1816), p.105).

298 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Hoffmann acknowledged that the pressing conditions of the theater might justify its addition. These ‘pressing conditions’ obviously refer to the audience’s hunger for spectacle, as the addition was common on other German stages as well, but might also allude to the King’s love of ballet. Since Vogler’s ballet was based on a theme from antiquity (‘Coro de’ Mostri’ from Castore e Polluce),24 Hoffmann jokingly assumed that Don Giovanni had apparently descended into Hades and would be fed to Cerberus.25 While Hoffmann’s tale Don Juan had staged and reflected on an ideal performance of Don Giovanni, the later review demonstrated a more pragmatic approach, proposing compromises and facetiously accepting the closing ballet. Hoffmann could accept this revised conclusion of the opera since it emphasized the serious character of the work, which had been an important concern of his tale and of his own performance in Dresden.

The last review in his first group of contributions for the DW was dedicated to Bernhard Anselm Weber’s duodrama Sulmalle, which was performed on 28 September (published 14 October, 1815). Sulmalle was an adaptation of Ossian’s Temora: An Ancient Epic Poem (1762) by the poet and translator at the Berlin theater, Karl Alexander Herklots (1759-1830). Weber had written Sulmalle in 1802 with Margarethe Schick in mind, and her part was now sung by Josephine Schulze. In his opening sentence, Hoffmann praised Sulmalle as a wholly successful work, regretting only that the journal’s limited space prevented an extensive and detailed demonstration of all its qualities. The music was characterized as ‘deeply felt’ and well organized, and its genuinely tragic character was noted especially as being both praiseworthy and a very rare commodity. Hoffmann announced his intention to analyze the inner structure of the work in a specialized music journal and called upon the composer to dedicate his talents to creating a grand serious opera in the very near future.26 Hoffmann greatly admired

24 For the historical context of this addition, see Fred Büttner’s ‘Abbé Voglers “Coro de’ Mostri” aus “Castore e Polluce” (1787) und die Bedeutung der Unterwelt in Opern des 18. Jahrhunderts’, Archiv für Musikwissenschaft, 57: 3 (2000), 222-239. 25 ‘Mag dann noch schließlich Minos dem Don Juan das Urteil publizieren, und er in Gemäßheit dessen von den Teufeln dem höllischen Wauwau zur Verspeisung dargereicht werden’. (‘Let Minos then finally pronounce judgement upon Don Giovanni, and let him accordingly be handed over by the demons for consumption by the hellish bow-wow’. (Schriften zur Musik, p.301; Charlton, p.401.) Charlton’s assumption that Vogler’s ballet involved Minos, King of Crete (Charlton, p.401 fn.8), should therefore be corrected: Hoffmann instead used the name of Minos to refer to the judge of Hades, who pronounces judgment on Don Giovanni. 26 Neither of these occurred. Berlin Reviews I 299

Josephine Schulze’s singing (in contrast to his earlier letter on music in Berlin), and the performance by bass Caspar Sieber raised high hopes that he would become a good singer. Hoffmann’s interest in serious opera was again evident in this review, and he especially encouraged Bernhard Anselm Weber’s efforts. It should not go unnoticed, however, that Hoffmann’s excuse for his extreme brevity (one column only, part of which was dedicated to the pantomime ballet Maler Tenier) is belied by his own review of Don Juan, which took up four columns, while G[runenthal]’s review of Sulmalle filled seven columns.27 Likewise, Hoffmann’s encouragement to Weber to compose a grand serious opera could very easily be read as veiled criticism: Weber, this ‘spirited’ and ‘worthy’ composer, who was the main music director of the Berlin theater, apparently had never written a serious opera! The following year, in a letter to Johann Philipp Schmidt, Hoffmann would pose the rhetorical question: ‘Wie viel Opern haben denn schon W. R. G. geschrieben?’ (‘How many operas have W. R. and G. already written so far?’)28 Hoffmann seemed to be implying that he and Schmidt, who had to support themselves with bureaucratic day jobs, had accomplished more in the genre than the officially-engaged music directors W[eber], R[omberg], and G[ürlich].

Hoffmann’s emphatic praise for B. A. Weber, Josephine Schulze, and especially Joseph Fischer, raises the question as to whether he was already considering their possible participation in his own opera project Undine. In a letter to Brühl of 29 January 1816, he explicitly identified his preferences for casting the opera, naming, among others, Josephine Schulze as Bertalda and Joseph Fischer as Kühleborn.29 As we have seen, he preferred Weber to Romberg as the opera’s conductor.30 Apart from flattering the performers, Hoffmann’s ideas for improving and advancing the Berlin opera already emerge from his first group of reviews. Of all the operatic works performed during the month of September, he had selected exclusively serious operas or works of a predominantly serious character for review.31 In Winter’s Opferfest the comic

27 DW nos 15 & 16 (14 & 21 October 1815), pp.119-120, 125-127. 28 Letter of 8 September 1816, Briefwechsel, II, p.103. 29 Briefwechsel, II, pp.86-87. 30 Letters to Brühl, 1 June & 9 July 1816, Briefwechsel, II, pp.92, 93. 31 The other operatic works staged in September were Luigi Cherubini’s opéra comique Les deux journées, Adalbert Gyrowetz’s Singspiel Der Augenarzt (Hoffmann had reviewed its piano score for the AMZ in 1812 quite unfavorably), Mozart’s Singspiel Belmonte und Constanze (The Abduction from the Seraglio), Gottlob Benedict Bierey’s

300 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera part had been omitted altogether; Paer’s Camilla, although semiserious, Hoffmann considered one of the composer’s most serious operas; and the tragédie lyrique Œdipe most clearly represented the serious genre. Hoffmann’s efforts to point out the serious aspects of Mozart’s Don Giovanni were already evident from his tale, and these aspects were again emphasized in his review. Finally, he had also selected Bernhard Anselm Weber’s duodrama Sulmalle for review. Even if it had been Hoffmann’s primary intention to pay his respects to Weber as the (possible) future conductor of Undine, Sulmalle’s dark setting in Bardic times was consistent with the series of serious works that Hoffmann had singled out for review. In discussing these serious works performed onstage, he showed respect for the composers and for their cultural and musical traditions. Although he clearly expressed his preferences for certain aspects of these operas, such as the French emphasis on drama, and his dislike of others, e.g. the lightness and love of melody at tragic moments seen in Italian operas, he avoided using denigrating or insulting language in his critiques. From this first group of reviews, only Mozart’s Don Giovanni appears to have fully satisfied Hoffmann’s operatic expectations, although its performance was still not at the required musical and dramatic levels. The Berlin stage, in its repertoire as well as the quality of its performances, clearly still needed much improvement.

Reviews of 1816

The second group of reviews began to appear in May 1816. How can this lengthy interruption in his published reviews be explained, especially in light of Hoffmann’s prompt start the year before? Several reasons account for his long silence. First, only a few new serious works were staged during this period and most productions were the usual comic fare, or Singspiele of a lighter character. There was one great exception, however: on 11 October 1815 Beethoven’s Fidelio was introduced to the Berlin stage. Hoffmann certainly took note of this important event, and after apologizing for his long silence as a reviewer, he happily announced the performance and his forthcoming review in his letter of 5 October to the editors of the AMZ:

[…] die Anwesenheit der Milder, die in Beethovens Fidelio auftreten wird, giebt mir Gelegenheit einen Aufsatz zu liefern, der nicht ohne Interresse seyn wird, da ich die Partitur der Oper Fidelio zur genauen Durchsicht erhalte, folglich eine

Rosette, das Schweizer Hirtenmädchen, Friedrich Johann von Drieberg’s one-act Singspiel Der Sänger und der Schneider, and the quodlibet Der Kapellmeister in Venedig. Berlin Reviews I 301

gründliche Beurtheilung dieses Meisterwerks liefern kan. Bald nach der Darstellung werde ich diesen Aufsatz liefern, so wie auch die mir übertragene Rezensionen besorgen.

(The presence here of Milder, who will appear in Beethoven’s Fidelio, gives me the occasion to deliver an interesting essay, since I have access to the score of Fidelio for a detailed critique and I can therefore deliver a thorough evaluation of that masterpiece. I shall send the article soon after the performance and also take care of the reviews assigned to me.)32

This letter reveals not only Hoffmann’s admiration for Beethoven’s opera but also his intention to write an in-depth analysis of the work and thus provide a critical appraisal in addition to or instead of a performance review. The realization of his enthusiastic intentions, however, was delayed by a plethora of other pressing obligations. When the first performances of Fidelio took place, Hoffmann was preoccupied with a rush order to compose the choir scenes for Fouqué’s Prologue Thassilo, which was to be performed on 22 October 1815. At Brühl’s request, Fouqué and Hoffmann then worked on a new version of Thassilo in January 1816, extending it to a full play including an overture. In addition to these compositional duties, Hoffmann was also preparing for the staging of Undine, increasingly so in the spring of 1816. In mid-November 1815, Hoffmann was also busy writing his short story Der Sandmann (The Sandman), which was to become the first of four tales in the first volume of the Nachtstücke collection (published in September 1816). The remaining three stories in this volume were partly revised and partly newly composed during the first half of 1816. Another of his literary projects during this period was the composition of the second part of his novel Die Elixiere des Teufels (The Devil’s Elixirs, published in May 1816). In light of all these musical and literary activities in addition to his daily responsibilities at court, it is hardly surprising that Hoffmann was not able to write the Fidelio review, nor any other reviews of musical productions at the Berlin theater. After the publication of his first novel, Hoffmann began writing reviews for the DW again although not with the same intensity as in the previous year. Over a period of two months, he contributed four more reviews.33 Once again, he selected operas representing different operatic traditions: one German and one French work, and two French operas by Italian composers.

32 Briefwechsel, II, p.73; Selected Letters, p.255. Due to illness, Anna Milder-Hauptmann could not sing in the first performance and was replaced by Josephine Schulze. Milder would sing in all subsequent performances. 33 One of these reviewsHoffmann’s review of Méhul’s Ariodanthas been translated into English. See Charlton, pp.401-408.

302 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

The first review addressed a performance of Die Zauberflöte on 7 May 1816 (published 18 May). Mozart’s ‘große Oper’ was first performed in Berlin in 1794, but on 18 January 1816, commemorating the coronation of Friedrich I in 1701, an entirely new production was staged, for the first time with stage sets by the architect Karl Friedrich Schinkel. Hoffmann was well acquainted with the opera from childhood and had been involved in productions in Bamberg, even playing the Glockenspiel for the performance on 26 February 1809. He had also conducted five performances of it in Dresden in 1813 and one in Leipzig in 1814. Hoffmann reviewed the seventh performance of the new Berlin production, and was pleased to see that this old masterpiece was still capable of attracting a full house each time. In contrast to his earlier group of reviews, Hoffmann made numerous critical observations about the performers. Only Johanna Eunike as Pamina received outright praise, and he also expressed his satisfaction with the improved quality of the choir, which delivered an excellent performance of the final chorus. Not all of the choral parts were well-executed, however, especially when they were sung behind the scenes, and Hoffmann recommended placing the choir closer to the orchestra. The orchestra itself was also criticized for a lack of precision and balance: The overture was rushed, while the tempo in other sections dragged. Hoffmann harshly condemned the exaggerated way in which Papageno (Christian Gottlob Rebenstein) and Monostatos (Heinrich Blume) frightened each other in their first meeting and mentioned other scenes made less effective due to mechanical malfunctions. As in the case of Don Giovanni, Hoffmann was not pleased with the addition of a ballet at the very end; if it was deemed necessary to end with a ballet, this should either be completely separate from the opera or be closely connected to the ideas of the composer (rather than those of the poet) and performed with unchanged scenery.34 Hoffmann considered a ballet extremely suitable if it symbolically represented the secrets of Osiris and Isis as well as the induction ceremony. He regretted, furthermore, that the significance of Schinkel’s ingenious and profound creations were still largely not understood, even by so-called connoisseurs, despite the many discussions and publications that Schinkel’s scenery designs had inspired.35

34 Schriften zur Musik, p.305. Schikaneder’s text was generally considered rather weak and illogical, although in Hoffmann’s view it served its main purpose of inspiring the composer. 35 Two extensive contributions are reprinted in Harten, Die Bühnenentwürfe: ‘Über die Dekorationen der Zauberflöte’ (pp.119-122) by Louis Catel, originally published in the Vossische Zeitung of 10 February 1816, and ‘Über Dekorationen der Bühne überhaupt und über die neuen Dekorationen zur Oper Die Zauberflöte auf dem Berlin Reviews I 303

The new production of Die Zauberflöte was the first occasion for displaying the results of the collaboration between Brühl and Schinkel and the theater’s new artistic direction. Schinkel had designed twelve stage sets highlighting the opera’s struggle between light (symbolized by the sun) and darkness (symbolized by the moon). Sarastro’s realm was represented by buildings and symbols of ancient Egyptian origin. The libretto contained several references to Egypt (e.g., the Egyptian room in Act I, Scene 9, the pyramids in Act II, and allusions to the cult of Isis and Osiris). Napoleon’s failed expedition to Egypt and the interest of the Romantic movement in exotic and ancient cultures and traditions, had also triggered great enthusiasm among practitioners of science, literature, and the arts to acknowledge ancient Egypt as the origin of religion and human culture. The central idea of Mozart’s operathe education of mankind in wisdom, love, and friendshipnot only expressed the ideals of the Enlightenment, but also reflected the political agenda of the Prussian state, which promoted the virtues of civic duty, solidarity, and responsibility to its subjects. The choice of Die Zauberflöte as the introduction to the theater’s new program thus addressed the prevailing trends and tastes of a broad audience. Hoffmann had expressed his admiration for Schinkel’s Romantic art privately in a letter to Brühl, after Brühl had decided to commission Schinkel to provide the stage designs for Undine, and Hoffmann eloquently voiced his satisfaction and happiness with this new direction:

Ueberhaupt kann wohl jezt jeder Dichter und Componist, der ein Werk auf die hiesige Bühne bringt, der Darstellung mit froher Zuversicht entgegensehen, da Ew. HochGebohren, wie es jede Aufführung eines wichtigen Werks beweiset, das Ganze mit tiefer Einsicht, mit dem umfassenden Blick des wahren Kunstkenners lenken. – So wie jezt hier, möchte Rücksichts der Szenerie, die Zauberflöte wohl nirgends gegeben werden!

(All in all, any poet and composer who now brings his work to the stage here can look forward to its production with cheerful confidence because you—as every performance of an important work proves—direct the whole with the

Königl. Opern-Theater insbesondere’ (pp.122-130), which originally appeared in three installments in the DW of 17 & 24 February, and 2 March 1816. It is unclear why Harten attributes the article in the DW, signed ‘Y’, to E. T. A. Hoffmann. ‘Y’ contributed more often to the DW, but none of these texts have been attributed to Hoffmann. The syntax and preferred vocabulary are also not typical of Hoffmann’s style (as analyzed in Wolfgang Kron, Die angeblichen Freischütz-Kritiken E. T. A. Hoffmanns. Eine Untersuchung (Munich: Hueber, 1957), pp.93-95), and the ironic tone that pervades so many of Hoffmann’s other contributions (such as Kreisleriana or Die Kunstverwandten) is completely absent from this essay.

304 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

deep insight, with the all-encompassing view of the true art expert. In regard to scenery, The Magic Flute is certainly being staged better here than anywhere else.)36

Hoffmann was fascinated by the Romantic character of Schinkel’s work, which stimulated the audience’s imagination, carrying it away to remote times and places. In Undine, it would also be the new way of representing wild nature onstage that met with Hoffmann’s full approval. An additional feature that must have appealed to him was Schinkel’s concentration on the serious aspects of Die Zauberflöte. His stage sets, for example, ignored the comic scenes of the opera and emphasized the struggles between the serious characters. Hoffmann himself had shown the same tendency to emphasize the serious traits in his reflections on Mozart’s Don Giovanni and Winter’s Opferfest. On the whole, however, the review of Die Zauberflöte conveyed Hoffmann’s view that innovations in stage design alone were not sufficient to improve the overall quality of the Berlin opera. By emphasizing aspects relating to musical performance and acting skills, he reminded his readers that these aspects were as important as effective scenery for a successful opera performance.

A generally successful performance of a work dear to his heart was the immediate motivation for his next contribution. Hoffmann had reviewed Sacchini’s Œdipe in September of the previous year, and the staging of the opera on 15 May 1816, he now noted, had been guided by an even happier omen. The soul and spirit in the performance of all participants had resulted in a sparkling presentation of the opera. Joseph Fischer, especially, had outdone himself here in comparison with all of his previous performances. Hoffmann’s warmest praise was bestowed on soprano Anna Milder- Hauptmann, who had just been permanently hired with the Berlin royal theater and was now singing the role of Antigone (previously sung by Auguste Schmalz). Hoffmann was struck by her ‘pure and wonderful tone’ as if ‘cast from sonorous metal’ and her performance ‘foregoing all false ostentation’.37 He was, however, not content with the costumes of the protagonists. Neither Antigone’s ensemble nor her headdress was suited to the fate she endured, and Fischer, he advised, would evoke more empathy if he carried a cane signifying his blindness. His quick and confident movements, moreover, were inappropriate for those of a blind person.

36 Letter of 29 January 1816, Briefwechsel, II, p.87; Selected Letters, p.256. 37 Schriften zur Musik, p.306. Berlin Reviews I 305

Hoffmann also found fault with the stage sets and especially wished that one in particular, suffering from an impossible perspective, would be removed. Hoffmann again lamented the lack of a balanced production, although this time it was not the musical performance, but rather the visuals that were not to his liking.

On the first of June, Étienne Méhul’s drame lyrique Ariodant (Paris, 1799) was performed in Berlin for the first time, and Hoffmann dedicated an extensive review to this production (published 22 June 1816). He began by explaining the difficulties in transferring a French opera to the German stage given their different traditions. Méhul, whom he referred to as ‘learned’ and ‘versatile’, only had tenors and ‘dull’ sopranos at his disposal. If he had been writing for German singers, he certainly would have composed for a more varied ensemble and the result would have been more accessible to German ears. Othon, the tyrant and villain of the piece, for example, was set for tenor (instead of bass, which would have been the case in German opera), and therefore Fischer had to sing much higher than was suitable for his voice. As a result, major omissions had to be made, reducing the first act to a ‘miserable fragment’. In his review, Hoffmann then proceeded to describe what the audience would have heard if the opera had been performed according to the original score. He especially praised the effect of Othon’s opening recitative, and the passionate and admirably worked-out duet between Dalinde and Othon, which belonged to the most expressive and dramatic parts of the entire opera. In a stroke of genius, the composer had connected the different numbers with the two orchestral bars, which had also introduced Othon’s recitative at the beginning of the opera. Here, Hoffmann was in fact pointing out one of Méhul’s technical innovations in connecting separate numbers in the opera.38 But instead of hearing these profound and highly meaningful sections, Hoffmann continued, the audience was sprinkled with the ‘icy water of boring, inferior prose passages’, and any spark that the overture may have ignited in the listeners was soon extinguished.39 Not even the splendid and fiery finale, with its ingenious closing chorus, could warm the audience’s hearts again. The replacement of many of the melodramatic passages (and sometimes spoken dialogue) with musical numbers by another

38 Robert Ignatius Letellier, Opéra-Comique: A Sourcebook (Newcastle upon Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2010), p.550. 39 Schriften zur Musik, p.310.

306 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera composer utterly destroyed the opera’s proportions.40 Hoffmann was also annoyed by the long prose passages at the beginning and end: ‘Die durch Gespräch zerrissene Oper ist überhaupt wohl ein Unding, das wir nur aus Gewohnheit dulden. Wir sollen uns in dem höheren poetischen Reich befinden, in dem die Sprache Musik ist, und jeden Augenblick hinabgeschleudert berühren wir die Erde’. (‘An opera dismembered by speech is an absurdity to be sure, tolerated only out of habit. We expect to find ourselves in the higher realm of poetry, in which the language is music, and yet are flung back to earth at every moment’.)41 Hoffmann had used the same argument against the use of spoken dialogue in opera in his tale Don Juan and in his Don Giovanni review of 1815. In the present review, he now briefly summarized how spoken dialogue had become one of the pillars of ‘Operette’ (Singspiel and opéra comique) by advancing the plot and dramatic action, while the expression of emotions or inner reflections was reserved for the arias. As Hoffmann explains, one remedy for a stagnant drama was the invention of finali, in which music advanced the dramatic action. Méhul and Cherubini had introduced melodrama to avoid abrupt changes and to provide an effective transition from spoken episodes to musical numbers. In Ariodant especially, Hoffmann continued, Méhul tried to connect the spoken parts and sung pieces as much as possible by inserting melodramatic passages. Another technique he used was avoiding a closing cadence or a modulation into another key, which related to the music following a brief intervening dialogue. Méhul thus conceived his opera as a unified whole, and every willful change would destroy this unity. This observation brought Hoffmann to the second major point of his review: ‘Überhaupt hält Referent alles Abändern, Be- und Umarbeiten eines Werks für das Gefährlichste und zugleich Schädlichste von der Welt’. (‘In fact alteration or revision of any work is extremely dangerous and harmful’.)42 The result of such alterations could be seen in the performance of Ariodant, which had bored the audience and resulted in a cool reception. It certainly wasn’t the fault of the singers or other aspects of the performance, for everything possible had been done for this production. Fischer was praised again for singing a role in which he could not properly showcase his art. As a genuine artist, Hoffmann remarked approvingly,

40 Most likely, the new numbers were composed by Ignaz von Seyfried (brother of the libretto’s translator Joseph Ritter von Seyfried), who had also provided some new music for the first Viennese performance in 1804. 41 Schriften zur Musik, p.311; Charlton, p.405. 42 Schriften zur Musik, p.313; Charlton, p.407. Berlin Reviews I 307

Fischer nevertheless dedicated himself to enhancing the effect of the whole. Schinkel’s genius was again demonstrated by the stage sets, and Hoffmann mentioned the Gothic hall with its fantastic decorations as being particularly praiseworthy. After condemning the opera’s extremely deficient subject matter, Hoffmann nevertheless concluded:

Ariodant ist eine der im Stil gehaltensten Opern Méhuls, ernst, würdig, harmonisch reich und tiefsinnig gearbeitet, eben deshalb sollte die Oper, die jedem wahren Kenner echten Genuß verschaffen könnte und an deren Darstellung nun einmal viel Mühe und Geld gewandt ist, nicht von der Bühne verschwinden.

(Ariodant is one of the most consistent in style of Méhul’s operas, serious, dignified, harmonically rich, and thoughtfully fashioned. Such an opera, which could provide real pleasure to every true connoisseur and which has had so much effort and money spent on its production, should not disappear from the stage.)43

This is quite a different conclusion than the one he had reached in his review of Boieldieu’s one-act comic opera Le nouveau Seigneur de Village two years prior, which had been saturated with anti-French rhetoric. In the case of Ariodant, he recommended that the opera be repeated in accordance with the original score, and with some changes in the casting. The theater management, however, did not follow Hoffmann’s advice and the work disappeared from the repertoire after its first performance.

The last performance that Hoffmann reviewed for the DW was the staging of Gaspare Spontini’s tragédie lyrique La Vestale (Die Vestalin) on 28 June 1816 (published 20 July 1816). The première of the opera in Paris in 1807 had been an enormous success and in 1816 the work had already had its hundredth performance in the French capital. La Vestale also became highly popular on other European stages. The work was first performed in Berlin in 1811, with Auguste Schmalz as Julia, and in 1818 a new production followed, with stage sets by Schinkel. Hoffmann reviewed the old production, but the part of Julia was sung by Caroline Seidler-Wranitzky, a guest performer from the Viennese court opera. Hoffmann considered her voice unsuited to the strong heroic character of the music, and to the large opera house (Unter den Linden) where the opera was performed. Moreover, in this performance the role of high priestess was sung by Anna Milder-

43 Schriften zur Musik, p.314; Charlton, p.408.

308 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Hauptmann, whose brilliant voice completely overshadowed Seidler’s. A third of the review was dedicated to Milder’s special qualities: Her voice rang like phenomenal chimes, pure as silver, deeply penetrating the heart of the reviewer and evoking a whole realm of marvelous artistic dreams.44 Hoffmann also pointed out the importance of Milder-Hauptmann for the Berlin opera, ‘die seit vielen Jahren deutscher Musik mit allem Fug und Recht huldigt’. (‘which so justifiably has paid homage to German music for many years’.)45 Here, Hoffmann was clearly expressing his support for the Berlin theater’s efforts in promoting German opera. Hoffmann, accordingly, was extremely displeased that all of the other aspects of the performance were substandard, especially since the renowned Italian singer Angelica Catalani had been present. The poor quality of the performance, already evident in the Più stretto of the overture, spoiled many orchestral passages throughout the opera. In addition, Seidler-Wranitzky’s voice was too weak, and the part of Cinna (commander of the troops) was too low for tenor Heinrich Stümer. In surveying the reviews of 1816, one aspect seemed to have elicited Hoffmann’s concern the most: negligence in the acting and musical performances. While the stage design in Die Zauberflöte and Ariodant had risen to a level never seen before, thanks to Schinkel’s genius and craftsmanship, Hoffmann’s reviews during this period call attention to the equal importance of casting, acting, and orchestral and vocal performance. With the exception of Milder-Hauptmann, whom he praised without reservation, even famous singers such as Seidler-Wranitzky were not spared. Another exception was Fischer, who was consistently praised for his accomplishments as a singer. As we have already seen, Hoffmann’s concern for performance quality, and the need for an excellent ensemble to advance the course of opera on the German stage, was also shared by Carl Maria von Weber, as was clearly expressed in 1817 in Weber’s notes to the art-loving citizens of Dresden.

Envisioning the Future: Visions of a Realist

Of Hoffmann’s two groups of reviews for the DW, two contributions stand out: his reviews of Mozart’s Don Giovanni and Méhul’s Ariodant. They are considerably longer than the other reviewsoccupying four and seven columns, respectivelyand include musical examples, which was extremely

44 Schriften zur Musik, p.316. 45 Schriften zur Musik, p.316. Berlin Reviews I 309 rare in reviews published in the DW. Both reviews highlight the destructive effects of spoken dialogue added gratuitously to these operas, and both reviews can be seen as pleas to remain faithful to the composers’ original score. Revisions, omissions, insertions, and other alterations are therefore strongly condemned in Hoffmann’s reviews, although he acknowledges that compromises may sometimes be necessary. Hoffmann had offered an uncompromising staging of Don Giovanni in his tale Don Juan and in a similar vein, he now described Ariodant as it would be if it followed Méhul’s original score. In both operas, he deplored the poor quality of the librettos, but felt that the works were saved by their ingenious musical settings. In both operas, also, he admired most of all the dramatic force of the music and the unity of the music’s inner structure. In their thorough discussion of representative harmonic and motivic developments accompanied by musical examples, the two reviews transcend common performance reviews and are closer to the comprehensive reviews that Hoffmann had written for the AMZ. The two reviews also indicate the type of operas that Hoffmann would have liked to see developed more extensively on the German operatic stage: works of a serious character with subject matter and conflicts beyond the scope of ordinary human life. The music’s dramatic continuity in such works, together with effective stage designs, should represent the work as a unified totality and raise the audience to a higher poetic realm. The other operas Hoffmann had selected for review pointed in the same direction. In this respect, the Berlin reviews reflect the same operatic ideals that Hoffmann had formulated in his review of Gluck’s Iphigénie en Aulide of 1810, in which he regretted ‘daß die Komponisten der neuesten Zeit […] die wahre Opera seria ganz vernachlässigen, und daß auf diese Weise bald das Höchste, was die Dichtkunst mit der Musik verbunden für die Bühne leisten kann, ganz verschwinden wird’. (‘that […] composers of today are completely neglecting true opera seria, and that as a result the sublime heights that literature allied to music can attain on the stage will soon be totally lost to us’.)46 Hoffmann’s concerns about the disappearance of the most sublime operatic art form still persisted some years later in Berlin, hence his particular emphasis on Sacchini’s Œdipe, Mozart’s Don Giovanni, and Méhul’s Ariodant as leading examples. Also consistent with his views from around 1810 was his interest in Italian, French, and German operatic traditions. In three extensive reviews for the AMZ in 1810 and 1811, he had presented a critical examination of three famous musical dramas: the Singspiel Das Waisenhaus (1808) by Vienna’s

46 Schriften zur Musik, pp.61-62; Charlton, p.257.

310 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera most popular opera composer, Joseph Weigl, Gluck’s tragédie en musique Iphigénie en Aulide (1774) and Fernando Paer’s dramma serio Sofonisba (1805). Hoffmann’s position as reflected in these reviews was mirrored by the choices he made in writing contributions in Berlin: In accordance with his dismissive remarks about Das Waisenhaus, he omitted this genre altogether and paid no attention to lighter or sentimental German Singspiel at all. His reservations with respect to Italian serious opera were still evident in his 1815 review of Paer’s opera, while he reiterated his great admiration for French tragédie lyrique. In Hoffmann’s view, German opera composers could learn from these examples, hence his emphasis on German or French works of a predominantly serious character and his calling on Bernhard Anselm Weber to write a genuinely serious German opera. While Hoffmann’s reviews from around 1810 were primarily aesthetic discussions on opera, those written in Berlin at around 1815 had to take into account personal and political considerations. With his emphasis on the importance of serious opera for the stage, he also indirectly complimented the new theater management on its choice of works and its decisions, for example, to omit comic parts. His high praise for the costumes and Schinkel’s stage sets also flattered Brühl and his efforts to modernize the art of stage design. Hoffmann’s proposed compromises for maintaining a balance between spoken dialogue and recitative, and for staging the closing ballet show his sensitivity to theatrical realities such as financial considerations, established conventions, and the King’s preferences. Finally, Hoffmann’s own interests cannot be overlooked in his repeated expressions of admiration for the Berlin singers, notably his praise of Fischer, as well as his tributes to Bernhard Anselm Weber, both of whom he hoped would participate in the production of his opera Undine.

Contributions for the Vossische Zeitung: Reviewing a Befriended Reviewer

With the staging of Undine (première 3 August 1816), Hoffmann stopped contributing reviews to the DW. In a letter to Hippel on 30 August, he explained his withdrawal as a reviewer for the journal: ‘[...] an denen [den dramaturgischen Blättern] ich übrigens keinen Antheil nehme, da sie nach einem hiesigen sehr poetischen Kunstausdruck mierig worden, so daß sie nur noch Levezows (der jezt Löwenzopf genannt wird) Primaner lesen, und dieser gezwungene Curs eben nicht der Sache Vortheil bringt’. (‘[...] by the way, I don’t contribute to the DW any more, because, to use a local, very poetic term, it has sunk so low that now only Levezow’s (who is now called Berlin Reviews I 311

Löwenzopf [lion’s pig-tail]) upper classmen read it, and this required course is not to the advantage of the subject’.)47 His withdrawal from the DW, however, did not mean that Hoffmann intended to retire from reviewing altogether. On 28 August 1816 Johann Philipp Schmidt’s one-act opera Die Alpenhütte premièred in Berlin and on 10 September Hoffmann’s review appeared in the Vossische Zeitung. Schmidt was himself a regular contributor to this newspaper, and had published his own positive review of Hoffmann’s Undine on 10 August. Hoffmann’s favorable remarks on Schmidt’s Alpenhütte, accordingly, have been interpreted as a grateful gesture towards Schmidt.48 When he returned the score with a copy of his review, Hoffmann assured Schmidt in the accompanying letter of his sincerity in praising the composer’s accomplishments.49 One might question why such an assurance was needed. Schmidt felt somewhat embarrassed and urged Hoffmann to tone down his overly-enthusiastic review, and, when Hoffmann refused to do so, assuring Schmidt again of the genuineness of his praise, Schmidt shortened the text himself, eliminating sentences and clauses that praised Schmidt or his work in euphoric terms. Two days later (12 September), however, Hoffmann published the original version in the Haude- und Spenersche Zeitung.50 Hoffmann may well have intended his review to sound fulsome, which would explain his decision to publish his unabridged version as well. As an example of Hoffmann’s extravagant compliments, he praised the composer as a ‘genius’ several times, a term that Hoffmann usually reserved exclusively for his idols Gluck, Mozart, and Beethoven. Hoffmann’s encomiums are all the more puzzling since the work under consideration was a one-act sentimental opera. Schmidt had chosen his libretto from the Opern-Almanach des H[er]rn. A. v. Kotzebue, precisely the collection that Hoffmann had given a blistering review just two years previously (see Chapter Three). In the earlier review, Die Alpenhütte, among other texts, had been the target of

47 Briefwechsel, II, p.99; Selected Letters, pp.259-260. 48 Schriften zur Musik, p.503. 49 In this letter (early September 1816) he also announced that he would soon return two borrowed scores, Gluck’s Armide and Isouard’s Joconde (Briefwechsel, II, p.102). Hoffmann was apparently planning to review these works as well. Armide had been staged in December 1815, when Hoffmann was too busy to review anything at all; he would, however, review a performance of it four years later (13 September 1820; refer to Chapter Six). Joconde premièred on 26 April 1816, but Hoffmann never reviewed this work. 50 All differences are listed in Kron, Die angeblichen Freischütz-Kritiken, pp.115-117 and in the commentary of Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/2, pp.664-667.

312 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Hoffmann’s irony. Now, in 1816, he described Kotzebue as an established, accomplished poet and found Die Alpenhütte to be very effective theater. With respect to the facts alone, Hoffmann’s remarks are not necessarily inaccurate, for Kotzebue was an established author and Hoffmann had not denied his effectiveness as a dramatist.51 Hoffmann’s criticism had been directed at the woeful inadequacy of these texts as libretti and at Kotzebue, who should have never dignified the texts by considering them to be libretti. Since Hoffmann had accused Kotzebue’s libretti of thoroughly defeating every musical inspiration, his praise for Schmidt’s opera as the work of a genius able to make use of even such inferior material is understandable. An alert reader can hardly overlook the irony and heavyhanded sarcasm in Hoffmann’s description of the eleventh and twelfth scenes, the opera’s second climax: ‘Die Szene des alten Vaters, der erst das Bild der geliebten Tochter sieht, dann das ihr ganz ähnliche Enkelkind erblickt, dann die wohlbekannte Suppe genießt und endlich das Lieblingslied hört, ist wahrhaft rührend’. (‘The scene with the old father, who first sees the picture of his beloved daughter, then enjoys the well-known soup and finally hears his favorite song is truly touching’.)52 This saccharine domestic scene is quite the opposite of the serious and sublime subject matter that Hoffmann admired and that he tried to promote in all of his other reviews, including those written in Berlin. Moreover, he specifically criticized this passage of the composition as ineffective, because it is set in spoken dialogue throughout. In Hoffmann’s view, such a climax should at least be set as recitative or through-composed as melodrama. Hoffmann also considered the Pastorale in the overture to be overly long, and the repetitive closing of the Allegro to be ineffective. All of these criticisms, however, were overwhelmed by the review’s overenthusiastic tone. In a letter to the Management Secretary of the theater, Hoffmann called Die Alpenhütte ‘allerliebst’ (‘most charming’), which is much more consistent with the overall character of the piece.53 In his ‘Einige Worte des Komponisten über “die Alpenhütte”’ (‘A few words by the composer about his “Alpine hut”’), Schmidt characterized his own work as being mainly ‘idyllic’, ‘sentimental’, and ‘romantic’, and— ‘almost shamefacedly’—thanked the ingenious critic, J[ohannes] Kr[eisler],

51 The Almanach review does credit Kotzebue with having dramatic talent, the ability to smoothly develop the drama, and lightness of diction. Schriften zur Musik, p.261. 52 Schriften zur Musik, p.318. Hoffmann substituted the term ‘beverage’ with the more philistine ‘soup’. Schmidt changed it back to ‘beverage’. 53 Letter of 23 August 1816, Briefwechsel, II, p.97. Berlin Reviews I 313 for his far-too-generous appreciation of the opera.54 Schmidt apparently did not register the discrepancies between Hoffmann’s effusive language and the nature of the work under consideration.

Two years later, Hoffmann would review another one-act opera by Schmidt for the Vossische Zeitung, Das Fischermädchen, oder Hass und Liebe (The Fisher Girl, or Hate and Love), a setting of a lyric drama by Theodor Körner (published 3 December 1818). This time, however, Schmidt was aware of the ironic persiflage directed at his work, as he later mentioned in a letter to Hitzig.55 In his opening sentence, Hoffmann announced ‘Abermals ein vortrefflich gelungenes Werk des genialen, phantasiereichen, kraftvollen und dabei unermüdlich tätigen Komponisten [...]’. (‘yet another admirably successful work by the ingenious, imaginative, vigorous and at the same time tirelessly active composer […]’.)56 This piling-on of laudatory adjectives is typical of the entire review, and the word ‘genius’ in particular is used lavishly here as well. Hoffmann characterized both plot and music as being profound and meaningful, and was struck by the touch of tragedy running through the entire work. Nonetheless, one can hardly imagine sentences such as the following, for example, appearing in a Hoffmann review of a work by Gluck or Beethoven: ‘In dem Quartett: “Mitten aus des Lebens Fülle”, hat sich der Komponist ganz dem wilden Feuer des Genies, der Fantasie im exaltiertesten Moment überlassen, es ist – überaus herrlich!’ (‘In the quartet “From the midst of life’s abundance” the composer has surrendered completely to the wild fire of his genius, to his imagination in the most exalted moment; it is—just marvelous’.)57 The anticlimactic end of the sentence renders all of the foregoing exaltation meaningless. Similarly anticlimactic is the comment on Florentine’s aria (as she is about to rescue Galvani), which Hoffmann calls passionate, but then goes on to say: ‘man möchte beinahe sagen, Galvani halte sich empor über den Wellen in den artigen Koloraturen, die zur höchsten Spitze, zum Moment der Rettung führen’. (‘One could almost say that Galvani keeps himself above the waves by clinging to the neat coloraturas, which are leading to the climax, to the moment of salvation’.)58 The ‘neat’ coloraturas obviously belie the passionate and dramatic character he had praised before. Hoffmann summarizes Schmidt’s characteristic style by implying that a commonly-held

54 DW no. 11 (14 September 1816), pp.86-87. Hoffmann had asked Schmidt to sign his review with his acronym J[ohannes] Kr[eisler]. 55 Letter of 14 May 1823. See Schriften zur Musik, p.513. 56 Schriften zur Musik, p.325. 57 Schriften zur Musik, pp.325-326. 58 Schriften zur Musik, p.326.

314 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera opinion about his abilities was, in fact, mere prejudice. While Schmidt’s past work might have led his listeners to believe that he was a proficient composer whose talents lay more in the light and playful genre, Das Fischermädchen, however, now clearly revealed his tragic vein. Hoffmann therefore expressed the desire that Schmidt would soon take on a sound, serious opera, e.g., in the genre of La Vestale, as such operas were scarce.59 Once again, Hoffmann was using his reviews as a forum in which to express his concerns that most modern composers were avoiding serious grand opera. Similar to his appeal to Bernhard Anselm Weber three years earlier, this challenge to Schmidt again voiced some of Hoffmann’s frustration with the situation in Berlin: The few serious, large-scale works that existed were all coming from abroad. Concerning Die Alpenhütte, he had pointed out in his letter to Schmidt that it was important to make the audience aware of the fact that such a competent, Berlin-based composer was continuously delivering works of high quality.60 In his review of Das Fischermädchen two years later, the opening sentence contained the observation that this ingenious composer could proudly be called one of our own.61 The mismatch between Hoffmann’s exalted language and the modest scope and nature of the works under review (Sulmalle, Die Alpenhütte, Das Fischermädchen) seems to serve a dual purpose: For the broader audience, Hoffmann was calling attention to several genuine, serious operatic efforts in their midst, while the reviewer’s irony was intended to direct the connoisseur’s (and the composers’) attention to the flaws and weaknesses of these local products.62

59 Schriften zur Musik, p.326. 60 Letter of early September 1816, Briefwechsel, II, pp.101-102. 61 Schriften zur Musik, p.325. 62 In case of Das Fischermädchen, Schmidt mentioned to Hitzig that Hoffmann’s persiflage had helped him regain insight into his own shortcomings (unpublished letter, cited in Schriften zur Musik, p.513.) Carl Maria von Weber seemed to have struggled with similar considerations in his notes on Schmidt’s Das Fischermädchen, published in Dresden on the same day as Hoffmann’s Berlin review (3 December 1818). Since, like Hoffmann, he was on friendly terms with the composer, he had to walk a fine line as well, and chose to keep his comments very brief. Instead of employing irony, Weber used another tactic, stating that Schmidt had to be doubly praised given that he was not a professional composer but nevertheless had made a serious effort to compose in a more solid and characteristic style than most of his professional colleagues. (For Weber’s notes, see Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.305.) Berlin Reviews I 315

Hoffmann’s Final DW Contribution: Die Kunstverwandten or the Joys and Sorrows of Producing an Opera

Although Hoffmann was no longer a DW contributor, in 1817 he published his theater satire in this journal. Entitled Die Kunstverwandten, it was published in seven installments.63 The satire was based on his own experiences at the theater in Bamberg with clear references to the Berlin stage; the choice of this publication venue, with its reputation as the ‘mouthpiece’ of the Berlin theater, was therefore an irony in itself. The plot is straightforward. Two theater directors accidently meet in a tavern and, falling into conversation, exchange experiences and especially the sufferings they endure while leading their respective institutions. The dialogue can be interpreted as a staged soliloquy between the theoretical and practical concerns with which every stage director finds himself confronted. The directors are named according to the color of their coats, with the practical director being represented by ‘der Graue’ (the grey one) and the theoretical by ‘der Braune’ (the brown one). ‘Der Graue’ boasts of owning the most excellent theater in the world (which was, not coincidentally, the stated ambition of the Berlin theater). Voicing the practical perspective, he complains that poets and composers are undervalued and underpaid, and that costly stage designs and costumes had become the raison d’être of the theater. He then bewails the tortures of staging an opera. After some pressure from the self-proclaimed ‘ingenious composer’ Ampedo, he had promised to stage the ‘opera of all operas’, Gusmann der Löwe (Gusmann the Lion). For Hoffmann, the ‘opera of all operas’ was Mozart’s Don Giovanni and in some scores, the secondo uomo, Don Ottavio, was called Don Gusmann.64 In his tale Don Juan, Hoffmann had characterized Don Ottavio as weak and unmanly, making his association with a ‘lion’ all the more ironic. In the new opera, however, Gusmann turns out to be not a human being at all, but an actual lion, sung, or rather not sung, by a dog. This casting referred to the melodrama Le Chien de Montargis, ou la Forêt de Bondy (Paris 1814) by Guilbert de Pixerécourt, in which a poodle is cast as protagonist. The German version of the opera Der Hund des Aubri composed by Ignaz von Seyfried and translated by Ignaz Franz Castelli, was mounted in

63 DW nos. 33, 34, 36, 39, 44-46 (15 & 22 February, 8 & 29 March, 3, 10 & 17 May 1817). 64 For example, in the piano reduction of Carl Zulehner (Schott, 1791), which Hoffmann owned.

316 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Berlin in October and November 1816.65 Hoffmann’s satire, set as a full- fledged opera, also features as protagonist a mute lion played by a dog. Unfortunately, this ingenious product of art never reached the stage. The chief culprits responsible for its ‘suppression’ were the singers and their vanity. Although ‘Der Graue’ knows exactly how to bribe his artists—with flattery, money, and new clothes—his schemes are ultimately unproductive. The enraged prima donna, with her Italian temperament, proved to be too fat for her new costume and angrily returned her part. ‘Der Braune’ countered with a story about his German female singers, who tried to influence his casting with feigned fainting spells. The greatest obstacle for ‘Der Graue’ was, however, the bass who was assigned to sing the role of the tyrant Kajus: ‘[…] von Eitelkeit und Selbstsucht ganz aufgeblasen und verblendet hält er sich, sich allein für den Brennpunkt, von dem Alles ausgehen müsse. Daher ist ihm keine Rolle, keine Partie recht’. (‘[…] totally swollen with and blinded by vanity and selfishness, he considers himself and himself alone as the focal point [of the drama], from which everything else should emanate. Therefore no role, no part is good enough for him’.)66 Despite a declared ‘peace treaty’, in which the bass had promised to sing Kajus in exchange for an additional aria and being allowed to wear golden spurs, he returned his part just two days before the première of the opera. This passage, as well as the ‘catalogue’ of the deadly sins of singers and actors that both directors drew up together, was clearly an attack on Joseph Fischer, the bass who had refused to sing the role of Kühleborn in Hoffmann’s own Undine. Apart from denouncing the singer’s vanity, stubbornness, and superiority complex, the catalogue of the singer’s faults also featured neglect of civic duties, which a singer/actor was bound to perform according to his or her contract with the director. In a letter to Fouqué, Hoffmann referred to the Kunstverwandten and the circumstances that inspired it:

Meine Galle, durch die Unarten und Unziemlichkeiten des Schauspielervolks erregt, sprütze ich aus in einem langen Gespräch zweier Schauspieldirektoren, das schon durch vier Stücke des dramaturgischen Wochenblatts geht und viel Tumult erregt! – Brühl ist molto contento – Fischer kommt übel weg! – Lustig ist’s daß mir unwillkührlich ein Lazzo entschlüpft ist – Jene Herren unterscheide ich

65 DW nos 20 & 24 (16 November & 14 December 1816), pp.159-160, 192. When Goethe tried in vain to prevent a staging in Weimar in April 1817, he resigned from the court theater. Devrient, Geschichte der deutschen Schauspielkunst, II, pp.69-70. 66 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, III: Nachtstücke/Seltsame Leiden eines Theater- Direktors/Klein Zaches/Prinzessin Brambilla/Musikalische Schriften. Werke 1816- 1820, ed. by Hartmut Steinecke and Gerhard Allroggen (1985), p.364. Berlin Reviews I 317

nach ihren Röcken, der Braune, der Graue, nun ist das aber abgekürzt gedruckt, der Br., der Gr., das Volk liest daher zu seiner Lust, der Br-ühl, der Gr-af – ohe iam satis!

(My gall, raised by the rudeness and unseemliness of the actors, I spew out in a long dialogue between two play directors which has been running in four issues of the Dramaturgisches Wochenblatt and causes much ado! Brühl is molto contento— Fischer comes off the worse! It’s funny that unintentionally I let slip a lazzo: I distinguish these gentlemen by their coats, the Brown One and the Grey One, but that is abbreviated in printing and the people read to their great glee the Br. and the Gr., der Br-ühl and der Gr-af [count]. Ohe iam satis!)67

Coincidentally, Hoffmann’s unintentional slip and his references to the well- known personages of the Berlin stage were thus clear to everyone. ‘Der Braune’, whose views are closest to Hoffmann’s own, recommends that the bass’ contract be terminated immediately. ‘Der Graue’s’ hesitation, born of his fear of angering the audience, is countered by ‘Der Braune’, who explains that real popularity no longer exists. The calm and reflective mood of the Germans prevents them from indulging in exaggerated enthusiasm and they strive to fully understand and appreciate a work of art. Especially in the age when famous artists such as Friedrich Ludwig Schröder and Konrad Ekhof still dominated the stage:

[…] herrschte ein den Deutschen würdiger Ernst in der dramatischen Kunst: wir prügelten uns nicht im Theater, wir brachen uns nicht die Hälse in den Vorsälen, wie die Gluckisten und Piccinisten in Paris; aber in den kritischen Feldzügen entwickelte sich das rastlose Streben nach dem höhern Standpunkt, der das Ziel aller Kunst ist.

([…] an earnestness worthy of the Germans prevailed in the dramatic arts: We did not come to blows in the theater, we did not snap each other’s neck in the entrance-hall like the Gluckists and Piccinists in Paris; but in the critical campaigns we developed a tireless pursuit of a higher viewpoint, which is the goal of all art.)68

The Germans’ calm temperament thus facilitated a high level of criticism not easily found elsewhere. Nonetheless, the fact that this serious attitude had vanished almost completely, ‘Der Braune’ insisted, was clearly evident from the flood of theater reviews that every journal published. It was apparently enough merely to have ears, eyes, and a hand to write with in order to legitimize a critical judgment. Accordingly, theatrical popularity

67 Letter of 3 April 1817, Briefwechsel, II, p.127; Selected Letters, p.268. 68 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, III, p.376.

318 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera nowadays was necessarily superficial and short-lived, and if he was absent from the stage, the audience would forget the beloved bass within a fortnight.

A year later, Hoffmann would turn on Fischer again, this time in an ironic response, published in Der Freimüthige (2 March 1818), to an essay of Fischer’s in Der Gesellschafter, in which the singer complained about the lack of applause and respect that artists received in Berlin. Hoffmann countered sarcastically that it would indeed be an outrageous injustice if such an unbelievable talent, such a genius sacrificing everything for his art, did not receive thunderous applause each time he performed. Who doesn’t know, Hoffmann continued, venting his frustration once more ‘[…] daß Hr. F., bloß die Kunst mit dem dem Publikum zu schaffenden Genuß im Auge, jede Rolle, sei sie auch nicht geeignet, sein ungeheures Talent im ganzen Umfange zu zeigen, mit freudigem Willen übernimmt!’ (‘that Mr. F[ischer], with nothing but his art and the enjoyment of the audience in mind, happily accepts every role, even if it doesn’t allow him an opportunity to display his full talent’.)69 In a more serious tone, Hoffmann speculated that it might be the petulant arrogance with which Fischer pushed himself forward at the expense of the work of art, the role, the situation, and his acting colleagues that was responsible for his lack of acclaim. Returning to his earlier ironic mode, Hoffmann ‘excused’ the audience, which had never seen a genius on stage before and therefore did not know the appropriate way of treating such a person. If Fischer could not accept the situation, he (Hoffmann) could offer some good advice: ‘[…] Fliehe – fliehe uns Barbaren!’ (‘Flee— flee from us barbarians!’)70 Fischer would do just that. Only two weeks after this response, Hoffmann (anonymously) published the Tacchinardi anecdote in the Vossische Zeitung (17 March 1818). The anecdote recounted the story of the famous tenor Nicola Tacchinardi who was performing in Venice and one day refused to sing a famous duet despite boisterous clamoring from the audience. Loud hissing ended Tacchinardi’s performance that day and also welcomed him at his next stage appearance, not ceasing until he had apologized for his behavior.71 One day after Hoffmann had published this anecdote, Fischer appeared on the Berlin stage for what proved to be his final performance. When the tumultuous

69 The journal’s new full title was: Der Freimüthige, oder Unterhaltungsblatt für gebildete, unbefangene Leser, ed. by August Kuhn. Schriften zur Musik, p.321. 70 Schriften zur Musik, p.323. 71 Schriften zur Musik, p.325. Berlin Reviews I 319 uproar from the audience did not allow him to sing at all, Fischer resigned from the theater.72

Although Hoffmann satirized the peacock-like behavior of many artists and especially that of Fischer in Die Kunstverwandten, not all of his judgments were negative. Both directors admitted to knowing exceptions to the inadequate, self-centered actors whom they castigated. ‘Der Braune’ describes an actor who played his roles inspired by a higher spirit while remaining under the control of his own sense of reason. Enthusiasm reined in by reason, ‘Der Graue’ agrees, is the definition of a great artist and actor. He then describes one of his own actors who excelled in character roles, but was never content and could not stop questioning and reflecting about his role. In both cases, the directors were referring to Ludwig Devrient (1784- 1832), who had been engaged on the Berlin stage in 1816. Both regretted the fact that actors such as Devrient, who could completely forget themselves and in every respect become the character created by the poet— in speech, movement, composure, as well as gesture—were extremely rare, although ‘Der Graue’ concluded that he at least was able to attract some talented actors. ‘Der Braune’ revealed that after many years he finally owned an exemplary company: All the actors studied their roles so carefully that no prompter was ever needed, no jealousy or quarrels ever disrupted the harmony among the actors, and they were content with little pay. Moreover, none of these actors had had any acting experience before joining his troupe. In a similar revelation staged in Ritter Gluck, the two directors go upstairs, where ‘Der Graue’ meets this ideal company: marionettes. Were lifeless puppets really ideal actors? ‘Der Braune’ would certainly never have to face such problems as ‘Der Graue’ had with his bass. On the other hand, stiff puppets would never enliven the characters created by the poet in all aspects, as the directors would ideally like to see. The marionettes, although representing the opposite of all the weaknesses and annoyances of human actors, would not, in the end, offer a real solution either.

By the autumn of the following year, Hoffmann had expanded his essay to three times its original length, and published it in November 1818 as a book entitled Seltsame Leiden eines Theaterdirektors (Strange Sorrows of a Theater Director). In a newly-added preface, Hoffmann warned: ‘Ein ganz

72 According to Gubitz, the tumult was engineered by Hoffmann and his cohorts. Friedrich Wilhelm Gubitz, Erlebnisse. Nach Erinnerungen und Aufzeichnungen, 3 vols (Berlin: Vereins-Buchhandlung, 1868-1869), II (1868), pp.87-105.

320 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera vergebliches Mühen würd’ es sein, wenn du, o lieber Leser! es unternehmen solltest, zu den Bildern, die einer längst vergangenen Zeit entnommen, die Originale in der neuesten nächsten Umgebung ausspähen zu wollen’. (‘It would be a completely vain endeavor, if you, oh beloved reader! were to try to identify the originals of images from times long past in this most recent proximity’.)73 Ironically, this newer version of Hoffmann’s satire contained many more references to developments on the Berlin stage than the old DW article had. The discussion of Devrient, who was now referred to as ‘my little Garrick’ (Devrient’s name was never mentioned), had been considerably expanded.74 Devrient, Hoffmann’s friend and drinking companion, faced increasing problems as the Wolffs gained influence. The fact that Devrient was mostly fobbed off with minor roles in second-rate plays was criticized by ‘Der Braune’, as was the fact that Devrient accepted such poor roles at all. ‘Der Braune’ feared that Devrient’s habit of accepting all roles without regard for their respective worth would eventually ruin his talent altogether. The Weimar style, which the Wolffs represented and were trying to implement in Berlin, was attacked by ‘der Braune’, who bemoaned the focus on rhetorical correctness, the ‘tuono accademico’ that increasingly superseded real acting. True drama was vanishing from the stage, as seen in the lack of dramatic action in most modern plays including those by the famous Schiller, whose plays were especially promoted by Brühl. Many modern dramatists were merely narrators, ‘der Braune’ complained, and tragedies often contained nothing more than a well-organized, beautifully- worded account of a fatal crime, put in the mouths of persons of different ages and classes. The absence of true drama, argued ‘der Braune’, had also influenced developments in acting: ‘Kurz, von dem wahrhaft Dramatischen ab zu dem Rhetorischen haben sich unsere Dichter gewandt und unsere Schauspieler mit fortgerissen, die ihrer Seits nun auch dem rhetorischen Teil ihrer Kunst zu viel Wert geben’. (‘In short, our dramatists have turned away from the truly dramatic toward the rhetorical, carrying along our actors, who in turn now also overvalue the rhetorical part of their art’.)75 Hoffmann thus expanded his criticism of the loss of high drama from opera to encompass spoken theater as well. The lack of dramatic action and acting in turn made theater’s visual aspects all the more important, hence, according to ‘der

73 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, III, pp.401-402. 74 David Garrick (1717-1779); famous English actor and manager at Drury Lane in Covent Garden, who promoted a realistic and naturalistic style of acting. 75 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, III, p.465. Berlin Reviews I 321

Braune’, the need for extravagant expenditures on scenery and costumes. This observation prompted him to reflect further on the true art of stage design, which was as a rule woefully misunderstood. Hoffmann had made a similar observation in his 1816 review of Die Zauberflöte, in which Schinkel had made his début as a designer of stage scenery. Not even connoisseurs had so far fully appreciated Schinkel’s truly ingenious new artistic concept, Hoffmann had complained, concluding his review with the provocative remark, cited as the ‘peculiar opinion […] of a peculiar man’ that the scenery should never imitate nature, but on the contrary, should be purely fantastic, and even trees painted red and sky blue could be useful to this purpose.76 In Seltsame Leiden ‘der Braune’ picked up the topic again and now offered a more worked-out and nuanced view: ‘Die wahre Tendenz des Dekorationswesens wird gemeinhin verfehlt. Nichts ist lächerlicher als den Zuschauer dahin bringen zu wollen, daß er ohne seinerseits etwas Fantasie zu bedürfen, an die gemalten Palläste, Bäume und Felsen ob ihrer unziemlichen Größe und Höhe wirklich glaube’. (‘The true tendency of scenic art is quite often missed. Nothing is more ridiculous than to bring the spectator to the point where he, without needing to contribute anything from his own imagination, actually believes in the painted palaces, trees, and rocks with their unseemly size and height’.)77 Imagination should thus always be key in scenery design. Faithful imitation of nature, in any case, should never lead to ostentation and the stage set should never itself, as an independent image, distract the attention of the audience. Rather, at the crucial moment of the action, the spectator should come to feel the effect of the stage set without even being aware of it.78 Stage sets should thus appeal to the viewers’ imaginations, and enhance the dramatic moment with visual means, but should never strive to be admired independently. Often, exact imitation will ruin the intended effect. Rather than showing a battle onstage or playing martial music, such battle images should be evoked in the imagination of the audience, for example, by approaching and vanishing horn calls, trumpets, battle calls, percussion—first nearby, then far away—

76 Schriften zur Musik, pp.305, 306. Schikaneder’s libretto calls for silver-colored trees with golden leaves (Act II, Scene 1: ‘Das Theater ist ein Palmwald; alle Bäume sind silberartig, die Blätter von Gold’), creating an exotic and fairytale-like atmosphere, while the peculiar provocative proposal in the Zauberflöte review aims at theatrical illusion in general. 77 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, III, p.477; translation, in part, by Anthony Newcomb, ‘New light(s) on Weber’s Wolf’s Glen Scene’, in Opera and the Enlightenment, ed. by Thomas Bauman and Marita Petzoldt McClymonds (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), pp.61-88 (p.72). 78 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, III, p.478.

322 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera behind the stage. As Schinkel had done in his proposal for improving the Berlin stage, ‘Der Braune’ criticized stage lighting from below the proscenium since it completely deforms the actors’ faces and expressions. He held out high hopes for the future of a certain ‘eminent residency’, which can be read as an indirect compliment to Schinkel:

In einer bedeutenden Residenz ist jetzt von der Errichtung eines neuen Theaters die Rede, und so wie man Rücksichts der Dekorationen dort schon seit einiger Zeit auf jene höhere Illusion, von der ich vorhin sprach, recht genial gewirkt hat, so scheint es auch, als wolle man jetzt, nur den wahrhaft dramatischen Effekt im Auge, nach den Grundsätzen des alten Gretry und aller wahren Dramatiker zu Werke gehen.

(In an eminent residency the construction of a new theater is being planned. With regard to the scenery, one has already affected the aforementioned higher illusion there lately in an ingenious way and it seems that now one is willing to proceed quite similarly, with an eye on the truly dramatic effect, guided by the principles of the old [master] Gretry and all true dramatists.)79

The plans to rebuild a theater at the Gendarmenmarkt, with the possible appointment of Schinkel as architect, may have been the source for Hoffmann’s optimism, as voiced here by ‘Der Braune’.80 Another aspect making life miserable for theater directors was the flood of manuscripts sent in by would-be poets, whose egos surpassed even those of the actors. The discussion on theater criticism, which had not been brought up in the DW version and may even be partially aimed at the latter journal, can be read as being directly related to the situation in Berlin. ‘Der Graue’ considered himself fortunate since he had succeeded, finally, in befriending all critics, thus bringing all of the criticism concerning his theater under his control. ‘Der Braune’ objected, arguing that this control would destroy the very principle animating the theater. Although the theater director would have nothing more to fear from the critics, he would have nothing to expect from them either. Fair, insightful, and spirited criticism would have a far greater effect on the actors than all of the theater director’s requests, incitements, or reprimands. It would also increase the audience’s interest and involvement more than the most lavish stage sets and costumes. Unfortunately, such competent and well-founded criticism had long since disappeared, replaced by countless ephemeral journals.81

79 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, III, p.485. 80 Schinkel would be officially commissioned to build the new theater on 30 April 1818. Bomberger, ‘The Neues Schauspielhaus in Berlin’, p.151. 81 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, III, pp.500-503. Berlin Reviews I 323

When ‘Der Braune’ argued that under these circumstances it would be best if a valiant and competent opposition should develop against the theater director, or that the director should even provoke such an opposition, which would wake up the lethargic public, ‘Der Graue’ protested by interjecting that education in the dramatic arts could come from the stage itself. Therefore, criticism might very well come from here as well and lead the public onto the right path.82 With this position, according to which the theater as well as theater criticism should work together in educating the public, one is immediately reminded of Brühl and the DW. ‘Der Braune’, however, argued that although the theater should not hesitate to stage genuinely dramatic works, everything depended on how these works were presented: ‘Die Wahl der Stücke tut es daher nicht allein, sondern die Art ihrer Darstelling und über diese hat der Direktor niemals ein kompetentes Urteil da er in eignem Wirken befangen ist’. (‘It is not just a matter of the selection of works, but also of the way in which these are performed, and the director can never judge the latter with competence, since he is caught up in his own work’.)83 The theater director could thus never be his own critic and needed an independent judgment from reviewers or the audience. In line with this view of ‘Der Braune’, most of the pages added to the dialogue were dedicated to a discussion of truly dramatic repertoire and its performance. As the greatest dramatists, ‘Der Braune’ mentioned Shakespeare, first and foremost, along with Calderón, Molière, and Gozzi. This discussion of some of the great European traditions revealed that the Germans still had much to learn in performing these works and in creating their own dramas. Similar to Hoffmann’s criticism of changes to opera scores, ‘Der Braune’ rejected all revisions or even minor alterations to spoken drama and believed these to be the reason why Shakespeare’s plays had thus far had so little impact on the German stage: ‘Noch kennt, wie ich mit dem vollsten Recht behaupten mag, das große Publikum den herrlichen Meister gar nicht, denn nirgends sah es ein Werk von ihm ohne jene unverständige Verstümmelungen, die sich auf keine Weise rechtfertigen lassen und nur ein Beweis der Imbezillität derer sind, die sie unternahmen’. (‘The public at large does not know this wonderful master yet, as I can assure quite rightly, since nowhere could it witness a work without such imprudent mutilations, which cannot be justified in any way and are only proof of the idiocy of those who undertook them’.)84 In Shakespeare, ‘Der

82 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, III, pp.504-505. 83 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, III, p.505. 84 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, III, p.461.

324 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Braune’ maintained, even minor details anticipated scenes or developments yet to come and had an important function for the entire work. Shakespeare’s great genius paired rational awareness (‘Besonnenheit’) with great enthusiasm, and any alterations or omissions would therefore destroy the intended effect. Without mentioning their names, ‘Der Braune’ criticized Goethe’s arrangement of Schlegel’s translation of Romeo and Juliet, nor did he spare Schiller for his adaptation of Gozzi’s Turandot, calling it a failure, which proved his point that revisions and alterations in general were a great mistake.85 It was incomprehensible how the German author managed to obliterate the most wonderful traits of the original.86 While Shakespeare and Gozzi suffered from maiming adaptations, many of Calderón’s works had never been translated at all: ‘Überhaupt ist noch ein ganzes versunkenes Reich der vortrefflichsten dramatischen Werke heraufzubergen und manche unserer jungen, mit Sprachkenntnis begabten, Dichter täten besser, sich diesem nützlichen Geschäft zu unterziehen, als die falschen Glimmer aus eignem unfruchtbarem Schacht ans Licht zu fördern!’ (‘Generally, there is still an entire buried treasure of most excellent dramatic works to be exhumed, and many of our young authors with linguistic talent would do better to dedicate themselves to this valuable cause than bringing to light false glitter from their own infertile inner selves’.)87 Rather than providing the stage with new but mediocre German works, young poets would best serve the stage with faithful translations of existing masterpieces. Parallels between Hoffmann’s Seltsame Leiden and his Capriccio Prinzessin Brambilla (1819) have often been noted. Heide Eilert has pointed out how the Capriccio can be read as persiflage of the Weimar school of acting, with its emphasis on rhetoric and mannered gestures.88 In the Capriccio, the young actor Giglio Fava originally suffered from this ‘illness’, but was finally healed by recognizing the true value of commedia dell’arte. With his emphasis on this old form of improvised comedy, Hoffmann indirectly criticized the popular sentimental comedies of Kotzebue and Iffland, on the one hand, and the classicist drama and the Weimar school on the other. The Capriccio thus

85 In a letter to Hitzig (15 July 1812), Hoffmann had criticized Goethe’s adaptation and had stressed the importance of faithfulness to the original (Briefwechsel, I, p.342). In the same letter he also expressed his hope of introducing Shakespeare’s comedies to the Bamberg stage. Although, in reality, this never worked out, ‘der Braune’ performed these comedies with his company and recounts his experience of staging Was ihr wollt! (Twelfth Night). Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, III, pp.486-488. 86 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, III, p.469. 87 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, III, p.489. 88 Heide Eilert, Theater in der Erzählkunst. Eine Studie zum Werk E. T. A. Hoffmanns (Tübingen: Niemeyer, 1977), pp.155-188. Berlin Reviews I 325 aimed at a rebirth of genuine comedy inspired by the spirit of commedia dell’arte.

Art Beyond Boundaries: Towards a Universal Operatic Style

In his dialogue Die Kunstverwandten and in his Berlin reviews, Hoffmann had bemoaned the disappearance of tragic opera and had focused on the rarity of true artistry among most singers and actors. In Seltsame Leiden and Prinzessin Brambilla he extended his deliberations to the theater in general and deplored the lack of true drama on the German stage. With the Romantics, Hoffmann saw a shining example in Shakespeare especially, and also in great works from other European traditions, from which young artists should draw inspiration. He promoted playwrights who combined serious and comic elements in their works, a combination that he had praised as ‘Romantic’ in the dialogue Der Dichter und der Komponist.89 Although Hoffmann was well aware of national characteristics, which he often pointed out specifically, in his view these could enrich the work of art but should never become its decisive aspects. Hoffmann insisted that true art transcended borders or nations. As the German painter Franz Reinhold asserted in Prinzessin Brambilla, ‘Die unsichtbare Kirche kennt keinen Unterschied der Nation; sie hat ihre Glieder überall’. (‘The invisible church knows no distinction of nations; it has its members everywhere’.)90 In his Über die Aufführung der Schauspiele des Calderon, Hoffmann had stated that representatives of this ‘invisible church’, to which only truly poetic minds belong, would recognize the deep Romantic quality of Calderón’s dramas.91 This cosmopolitan conviction that true artistic genius and taste were not restricted to specific traditions, peoples, or nations would also guide Hoffmann’s last Berlin reviews, all of which were concerned with Spontini in his capacities as composer and conductor. Even before Spontini’s arrival in Berlin, however, Hoffmann spoke out again on behalf of cosmopolitan serious opera in a contribution to the Vossische Zeitung (25 April 1820), entitled ‘reprimand’ (‘Rüge’).

89 Although in musical drama, Hoffmann took up the cudgels mainly on behalf of tragic opera, despite what was said about truly Romantic works in Der Dichter und der Komponist. 90 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, III, p.814; Hoffmann, The Golden Pot and Other Tales, p.158. 91 Schriften zur Musik, Nachlese, p.596.

326 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

An anonymous reviewer for Der Freimüthige (29 February 1820) had severely attacked Méhul’s Joseph and Meyerbeer’s new opera Emma di Resburgo (Venice, 1819) in an article with clearly anti-Semitic undertones. Although the critic had praised the music of Joseph as excellent, he considered it an agonizing calamity to have to contend with thirteen Old Testament believers for more than two-and-one-half hours.92 Regarding Emma di Resburgo, he complained that his ears were not long enough to discover even a single sane measure in the entire opus, and furthermore accused Meyerbeer of eclecticism and even plagiarism, as well as lack of melodic invention and workmanship.93 In his reprimand, Hoffmann posed as a layperson who was ignorant of music both practically and theoretically, and who was astonished by the animosity of the critic’s judgment.94 Although he acknowledged that the reviewer was most likely a musical connoisseur, and thus free to judge this young composer [Meyerbeer] as he saw fit, this layperson could not ignore the hostility in the reviewer’s observations concerning Old Testament believers as well as the reference to the ‘long ears’, which also referred to the Old Testament and the story of Balaam’s ass. ‘Das alles verdient ernstliche Rüge’ (‘All this deserves a serious reprimand’), he continued, ‘denn scharf mag die Beurteilung eines Kunstwerks sein, aber nicht animos!’ (‘since the judgment of a work of art can be sharp, but may never be hostile!’)95 In his reprimand, the layperson exposed the ignorance of the ‘connoisseur’ by pointing out how some melodies and melismas were reminiscent of Jewish liturgical music and the intonation of the cantors in this tradition. The layperson found that the soulful composer had rightfully based his serious opera on sacred music and, instead of showing off, had spoken from his inner soul, remaining true to the spirit of his forefathers. The strange melodic lines and embellishments were therefore ‘authentic’ musical enrichments. Hoffmann thus attributes a special quality to ethnic characteristics, which could become part of a universal style, but without acquiring any political or national connotations. In the case of Emma di Resburgo, as the ‘clever critic’ of Der Freimüthige had already stated, there were only a few original melodies

92 Der Freimüthige no. 43 (29 February 1820) [col. 7; columns not numbered]; partly reprinted in Schriften zur Musik, p.519. 93 Der Freimüthige no. 43 [cols 7-8]; Schriften zur Musik, p.519. 94 In reality, Hoffmann knew Méhul’s Joseph very well, and with his cooperation the work was staged in Bamberg on 21 & 26 January 1812. In his diary, Hoffmann reports on a rehearsal on 7 January 1812, calling Joseph a ‘superb opera’ (‘herrliche Oper’) (Tagebücher, p.132). He conducted Méhul’s Joseph in Dresden on 9 July and 29 September 1813. Schnapp, ed., Der Musiker E. T. A. Hoffmann, p.669. 95 Schriften zur Musik, p.336. Berlin Reviews I 327 to be found. In his allegations of eclecticism and plagiarism here, the ‘ignorant’ author called the composer ‘a grateful student’, one who had studied the great masters and had recalled their melodies in his own works, thereby proclaiming their fame. The amalgamation of different styles was thus not objectionable per se, particularly since the composer had remained true to his inner soul. In his reprimand, the layperson also drew attention to the fact that Meyerbeer resided in Italy, was maturing as a composer in the birthplace of opera, and had already celebrated a triumph in Venice.96 His melodies, overall, were clearly modeled in the newest Italian manner, elevating the heart and the mind. Although a touch of irony accompanies the layperson’s observations on the influence of the ‘sweet and at the same time profound’ Rossini, the Italian idiom creates no obstacle to appreciating Emma di Resburgo—in contrast to Carl Maria von Weber’s view in his introductory notes to the opera’s performance in Dresden (29 January 1820). Weber believed that Meyerbeer’s primary goal had been to receive instantaneous applause. He had therefore served the Italian public not only ‘the ripest and most luscious fruit, but of sugaring it with all the modish devices’.97 At the end of his notes, Weber expressed the wish that, having shown how he had mastered all styles, ‘daß Herr Meyerbeer nun […] ins deutsche Vaterland zurückkehren und mit den wenigen, die Kunst wahrhaft Ehrenden, auch mit fortbauen helfen wolle an dem Gebäude einer deutschen Nationaloper, die gern von Fremden lernt, aber es in Wahrheit und Eigentümlichkeit gestaltet wiedergibt’. (‘[Herr Meyerbeer] will now return to his German homeland and join that small band of true art-lovers who are working to create a German national opera. We are more than willing to learn from foreigners; but what we learn we wish to hand on with the stamp of our own vision of truth and our own personality’.)98 The qualities Weber was missing in Meyerbeer’s latest opera, individuality and truth, were exactly the qualities that the layperson (Hoffmann) had praised in his reprimand. Despite the Italian influences, the layperson observed, the composer had remained true to his inner soul. Moreover, as the end of the essay states, the opera on the whole was genuinely serious, conceptualized and worked out on a large scale, and in this regard Meyerbeer had apparently surpassed his Italian models. Finally, the layperson put the responsibility for any negative

96 Emma di Resburgo, Meyerbeer’s third Italian opera, premièred at the Teatro San Benedetto in Venice on 26 June 1819. Its enormous success surpassed that of his two previous works and earned him a commission from La Scala in Milan. 97 Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.309; Weber, Writings on Music, p.279. 98 Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, p.309; Weber, Writings on Music, p.280.

328 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera impressions on the organizers, wondering whether we should not be content that they at least had intended to give us an enjoyable evening. Even if they had not succeeded entirely, at least they had made a worthy attempt. The last sentence seemed to suggest that the performance was indeed far from perfect, which may also have contributed to the boredom of the critic of Der Freimüthige. While Hoffmann’s Berlin reviews and other critical contributions up to 1820 showed his continued interest in Italian, French, and German traditions (with an emphasis on French tragédie lyrique in the 1816 reviews), they primarily voiced his concerns about serious shortcomings of the Berlin stage, such as the neglect of the tragic genre; carelessness in the treatment of original texts and scores; unsatisfactory performance quality, and how the vanity of composers, poets, actors, and singers obstructed true artistic experience. Gaspare Spontini’s arrival in Berlin on 28 May 1820 promised to open a new chapter for the Berlin opera, one eagerly awaited and welcomed by Hoffmann, who now turned exclusively to the new General-Musik-Direktor in his published critiques. Hoffmann had most forcefully stated his sharp reaction to the prejudiced judgments targeting Meyerbeer and Méhul in his reprimand. His embrace of the foreign as an opportunity for enrichment rather than as a threat prefigures his position in the ensuing debates surrounding Gaspare Spontini presented in Chapter Six.

Chapter Six Berlin Reviews II: Standing up for Spontini

A Parisian in Berlin

Gaspare Luigi Pacifico Spontini (born in Maiolati, 1774) received his early musical education at the conservatory in Naples, where he composed various opere buffe. Before moving to Paris in 1803, he had written operas for the major Italian opera stages of Rome, Venice, Naples, Florence, and Palermo. In Paris, he soon came under the patronage of Empress Joséphine, whose influence was instrumental in bringing about the première of Spontini’s first tragédie lyrique La Vestale (1807). Apart from Milton (1804; dedicated to Joséphine), he had had little success with his French and Italian comic operas for Paris, but with the enormous triumph of La Vestale, Spontini was soon celebrated as the leading opera composer in Paris and was commissioned to write a propaganda opera, entitled Fernand Cortez. This work was to glorify Napoleon’s upcoming Spanish campaign. Much like the conquistadores had brought civilization to the Aztecs, the French now envisioned civilizing backward Spain. The opera’s première on 28 November 1809 represented another great success, and was attended by Napoleon himself. After the Emperor’s fall, Spontini continued to write operas for King Louis XVIII during the Bourbon Restoration and became a naturalized French citizen in 1817. With La Vestale and Fernand Cortez, Spontini had established his international fame, and his operas became part of the repertory of many European opera houses. When King Friedrich Wilhelm III of Prussia visited Paris in April and May of 1814, he was deeply impressed by Spontini’s works and ordered a performance of Cortez in Berlin, which took place on 15 October 1814. The King’s suggestion to engage Spontini at the Berlin opera met with great opposition from Count Brühl. Although it would be beneficial to attract a renowned composer, Brühl argued, Spontini had only written two internationally-famous operas thus far. Moreover, the composer lacked experience as an orchestral conductor, a task that would be further complicated by the fact that he didn’t know any German. It was of great importance to engage an experienced conductor, however, since Kapellmeister B. A. Weber was suffering from worsening health problems, and music directors Joseph Gürlich and Friedrich Ludwig Seidel showed no great 330 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera talent for conducting. He did suggest appointing a famous composer as an honorary first Kapellmeister, mentioning Spontini, Cherubini, or Paer as possible candidates.1 The King, however, was even more impressed by the revised version of Cortez when he heard its première during his visit to Paris in the summer of 1817, and subsequently bestowed the title of Premier Maître de Chapelle Honoraire upon Spontini. In 1818, he ordered La Vestale to be performed in Berlin annually and granted Spontini permission to dedicate his Preußischer Volksgesang to him, which premièred in Berlin on 18 October and would be performed in the opera house on the King’s birthday each year until his death in 1840. Although negotiations with Spontini had begun as early as 1814, it was not until August 1819 that Spontini signed a contract with Generalmajor Jost von Witzleben, who was acting on behalf of the King. Spontini was appointed General-Musik-Direktor at the Berlin opera for a period of ten years. Among his duties were the composition of two great operas every three years, or smaller works once a year, and the rehearsal of all opera productions. Furthermore, he was to conduct the first performances of his own compositions as well as music performed on festive occasions. Count Brühl’s signature was not on the contract; in fact, he had been kept in the dark about Spontini’s appointment and was only informed after its conclusion. Brühl protested in a letter to the King and stressed again why, in his view, Spontini was unfit for this position: ‘[…] er versteht unsere Sprache und Litteratur nicht, kann daher nicht in derselben komponieren, ebenso wenig auch die Details des Theater- und Orchester-Dienstes besorgen’. (‘He is not familiar with our language and literature, and will thus not be able to compose in it. Nor will it be possible for him to take care of matters concerning the theater or the orchestra’.)2 Brühl, who would have liked to see more original works composed in German, saw the opportunity for this slip away with Spontini’s appointment. He also pointed out once more that Spontini lacked the necessary experience as a conductor and warned about rumors he had heard from Paris about Spontini’s false and malicious character. In short, he would have liked to see ‘[…] wenn auch nicht so große Komponisten, doch nützlichere Subjekte’. (‘perhaps not so great and famous composers, but rather more useful subjects’.)3 As a theater

1 Altmann, ‘Spontini an der Berliner Oper’, pp.246-247. Negotiations with Cherubini did not materialize for financial reasons. Hübscher, Die königlichen Schauspiele zu Berlin, p.31. 2 Altmann, ‘Spontini an der Berliner Oper’, p.253. 3 Altmann, ‘Spontini an der Berliner Oper’, p.253. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 331 manager, Brühl therefore preferred a competent and useful musician unburdened by complications such as language barriers and potential personality issues. The King, to the contrary, was eager to appoint the best and most reputable composer he could attract. Without doubt, Spontini was, besides Rossini, one of the most famous opera composers in Europe, and the King was personally impressed by his works. Moreover, the monumental style of Spontini’s compositions was well suited to represent the Prussian court’s might and power. The fact that Spontini was not German did not bother the King; opera had always been a cosmopolitan art, and nationality had never been an issue in appointing composers to the theaters. The great opera composers in France, for example, except Rameau, had been foreigners (e.g., Lully, Gluck, Piccinni, Cherubini, Spontini, Rossini). What was important was not where one came from, but rather what one had to offer. In the wake of the wars against Napoleon, however, the political climate and popular mood had changed. The Wars of Liberation had increased national self-awareness, nurturing the desire to develop German art and culture. The appointment of the Italian-born Parisian Spontini dealt a serious blow to these patriotic aspirations. Even if the King had been more attuned to these changed circumstances, the problem would still have been difficult to solve since there was no German composer of Spontini’s stature. Other famous opera composers of the time, such as Cherubini and Rossini, would not have solved the nationality or language issues either. At the same time, Brühl foresaw more problems: The conditions and outline of responsibilities in Spontini’s contract were, according to the Count, too vague, and misunderstandings and conflicts would be inevitable. Soon after Spontini’s arrival, Brühl wrote to Witzleben how Spontini’s character was completely unsuitable for his administrative tasks: He lacked the necessary calm and composure as well as knowledge of the German language. Brühl focused on criticizing Spontini’s character; besides calling him extremely passionate, he alleged: ‘Sein Stolz und seine Eitelkeit haben den höchsten Grad des Lächerlichen erreicht […] Seine Schwäche und Charakterlosigkeit thun das ihrige dazu’. (‘His vanity and pride have reached most ludicrous proportions […] His weakness and lack of character contribute to the problems at hand’.)4 Another passage in the letter, which articulates Brühl’s position as clearly distinct from the King’s, reveals that these personal attacks were not entirely free of anti-foreign sentiments:

4 Altmann, ‘Spontini an der Berliner Oper’, p.260.

332 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Ich wünschte einen deutschen, der Sprache mächtigen, in der Anführung sehr geübten Mann zu haben, wie Maria Weber, Weigl, Lindpaitner [!] etc., einen Mann, der in das gewöhnliche, thätige, aber subordinierte Verhältnis eines gewöhnlichen Kapellmeisters eintreten und so nützlich werden [hätte] können. Der König hat es vorgezogen, einen berühmten Komponisten zu engagieren […].

(I would have liked to see a German candidate, proficient in the language, and with ample leadership experience such as Maria Weber, Weigl, Lindpaitner [!] etc. In short, a man who could have made himself useful by taking on the general, active, but subordinate duties of an ordinary Kapellmeister. The King, however, preferred to appoint a renowned composer […].)5

As a manager, Brühl’s preferences for a useful, practical, and obedient Kapellmeister are obvious, but it is even more evident that he could only imagine a German adequately fulfilling this position. In a private letter to his friend Oberhofmeister von Schilden two years later (25 February 1823), he vented his frustrations: ‘Für die eigentliche Dienstleistung und den ordentlichen Geschäftsgang war auch ein tüchtiger, gescheiter Mann, der unsere Sprache versteht, besser als ein unverständiger und unverständlicher Ausländer […]’. (‘For the actual duties and ordinary course of business a capable and prudent man, who understands our language, would have been more suitable than a foolish and incomprehensible foreigner […]’.)6 His word choice concerning the ‘foreigner’ was clearly much less careful than in the official letter, especially as he went on to say that he wouldn’t have minded hiring Spontini just as a composer, but:

zum Musikkönig, zum Tyrannen eines wackeren und treudienenden Schauspielintendanten hätte ich ihn nicht gemacht, und mein Generaladjutant hätte mir keinen Kontrakt und keine Dienstinstruktion aufsetzen dürfen, wodurch einem hämischen Italiener das Recht gegeben wird, einen vieljährigen treuen Diener auf den Kopf zu treten, ja, einen Mann, der ohne Überhebung behaupten darf, daß er ganz allein die große Oper in Berlin in aller Hinsicht auf den Glanzpunkt gestellt hat, auf dem sie jetzt steht, und zwar seit lange vor der Ankunft jenes schwarzen Vogels, der das leichteste Spiel hatte, mit allem vorgefundenen Material große Dinge hervorzubringen, und sich so mit fremden Federn zu schmücken.

5 Altmann, ‘Spontini an der Berliner Oper’, p.260. 6 Hans von Krosigk, Karl Graf von Brühl, General-Intendant der königlichen Schauspiele, später der Museen in Berlin, und seine Eltern. Lebensbilder auf Grund der Handschriften des Archivs zu Seifersdorf bearbeitet von Hans von Krosigk (Berlin: Mittler und Sohn, 1910), p.350. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 333

(I would never have made him musical King, tyrant of a valiant and loyal theater intendant. His superior should not have burdened him with a contract and service instructions, which gave a perfidious Italian the right to overrule a man who had served the theater faithfully for so many years. A man, moreover, who could boast without exaggeration that he all by himself had raised the Berlin opera to its current height in every respect, long before the arrival of that black bird, who now had an easy time building great things from what was already there and adorning himself with borrowed plumes.)7

Clearly, Brühl felt misjudged in his achievements, but his antipathy towards the foreign intruder, the ‘black bird’ (Spontini had black hair), is also very evident from his description.8 Moreover, Brühl was overestimating the achievements of the Berlin opera and his own role therein. As Hoffmann’s second group of Berlin reviews had revealed, performance quality was often neglected in favor of stage design (see Chapter Five). Brühl also downplayed Spontini’s efforts to improve Berlin’s musical scene and his dedication to the Berlin opera. Spontini, for example, enlarged the orchestra to ninety- four musicians and tried to obtain better pay for its members. He even supported some musicians out of his own pocket and in 1826 he established an endowment fund, the Spontini-Fonds, to help out orchestra members financially.9 Brühl’s implications that Spontini was a bad conductor with no previous experience are contradicted by the facts and by statements on the part of prominent critics. While still in Paris, Spontini had been appointed director of the Italian Theater, the so-called Théâtre de l’Impératrice, in 1810, where he was in charge of staging and conducting Italian operas. Critics such as Hoffmann (see below) and Adolf Bernhard Marx, the founder of the Berliner Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung, praised Spontini’s conducting.10

7 Krosigk, Karl Graf von Brühl, p.351. 8 In a letter to Count Friedrich Wilhelm von Redern some years later, Brühl remarked that Spontini’s Italian malice paired with French finesse made him unbearable. Friedrich Wilhelm von Redern, Unter drei Königen. Lebenserinnerungen eines preußischen Oberstkämmerers und Generalintendanten. Aufgezeichnet von Georg Horn. Bearbeitet und eingeleitet von Sabine Giesbrecht (Cologne: Böhlau, 2003), p.107. 9 Philipp Spitta, ‘Spontini in Berlin’. Zur Geschichte der Musik. Gesammelte Aufsätze. Zur Musik. Sechzehn Aufsätze (Berlin: Paetel, 1892), pp.293-353 (p.344). 10 Dennis Albert Libby, Gaspare Spontini and His French and German Operas, PhD Princeton University (Ann Arbor: University Microfilms, 1969), p.256; Spitta, ‘Spontini in Berlin’, p.333. Marx wrote about Spontini’s conducting in his Erinnerungen: ‘Wenn […] sein Arm mit dem Stabe sich hob und streckte und, eine Weile ruhend, sich zu vererzen schien: dann fühlte Jeder, daß sein Wille hier unbedingt und ganz ausschließlich alle Mitwirkenden zu seinen Organen gemacht; alle zusammen waren Ein Körper, und er das beseelende Prinzip desselben. Man hat neben und nach ihm feinere, freiere, vielleicht geistreichere Direktion kennen

334 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

From Munich, Carl Friedrich Zelter announced the performance of La Vestale with high expectations: ‘Spontini dirigiert heute im Königl. Theater seine Vestalin. Die Orchesterleute sind enchantiert von der Oper und seiner Direktion zugleich und das kann gute Arbeit geben’. (‘Today Spontini is conducting his Die Vestalin in the Königliches Theater. The [members of the] orchestra are enchanted by the opera and also with his direction. That’s a recipe for success’.)11 The numerous rehearsals and the absolute dedication and discipline Spontini demanded from all participants brought the performances to a level never before achieved.12 Spontini was also a warm supporter of the theater’s singing school and in addition founded an orchestra school. In a letter to Goethe, Zelter reported on Spontini’s admiration for the Singakademie.13 Allegations that Spontini did nothing to further German music overlook the series of concerts that he organized, primarily featuring works by Handel, Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven as well as works by J. S. and C. Ph. E. Bach.14 He furthermore supported concerts organized by the orchestra’s concertmaster, Carl Möser. Spontini’s greatest efforts in furthering German music, however, lay in his own operatic endeavors: For more than a decade he worked on the historical-romantic

gelernt, entschiedener aus Einem Guß gestaltende nicht […]’. (‘When […] he raised his arm with the baton, stretched it, and, when pausing for a moment, it seemed to turn into stone: then everyone felt how his will had turned all participants into his organs completely and unconditionally, forming one body, which he animated with his soul. One has encountered more subtle, freer, and perhaps more spirited conducting before and after him, but never one who shapes the music so decisively all in one piece’. Adolf Bernhard Marx, Erinnerungen. Aus meinem Leben, 2 vols (Berlin: Otto Janke, 1865), I, pp.220-221. 11 27-30 September 1827, MA, XX/1, p.1054; Byrne Bodley, Goethe and Zelter, p.388. 12 A member of the orchestra (Königliche Kapelle) called Spontini’s crescendos and decrescendos unmatched. The orchestra’s many rehearsals (often up to eighty) guaranteed the greatest precision and confidence in execution and incomparable ensemble playing. Participating in Spontini’s opera was hard work, though: ‘Die Kammermusiker, vom Musik-Director bis zum Pauker herunter sassen in einer wahren Furcht des Herrn da, aber dessenungeachtet executirten sie mit einer Begeisterung, die sich stets ungeschwächt bis zur letzten Note jeder seiner Opern erhielt. […] er war das schönste Musterbild eines Dirigenten!’ (‘The musicians, from the music director down to the timpanist, sat in true fear of the Lord, but nevertheless played with an enthusiasm kept up to the last note of each and every of his operas. […] He was the most exemplary conductor!’) Carl von Ledebur, Tonkünstler-Lexicon Berlin’s: von den ältesten Zeiten bis auf die Gegenwart (Berlin: Rauh, 1861), p.569. 13 MA, XX/1, p.625 (21 July 1820); MA, XX/2 Briefe 1828-1832, Dokumente, Register, ed. by Edith Zehm and Sabine Schäfer (1998), p.1172 (14 November 1828). 14 Spitta, ‘Spontini in Berlin’, p.335; MA, XX/2, p.1111 (30 April 1828). Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 335 opera Agnes von Hohenstaufen, based on an original German text by Ernst Raupach and set in the German Middle Ages (première of Act I in 1827, complete version in 1829, revised version in 1837).15 Still, the nationalist critics were not content and, led by the Berlin critic Ludwig Rellstab, wrote scathing reviews in the Berlin press. Many anecdotes about Spontini’s vanity and his craving for social standing and material success also circulated in Berlin.16 Whether these were exaggerated by his adversaries or not, it seems that Spontini had an extremely difficult personality and even the two additional ‘Dienstinstruktionen’, one issued in 1821 and the second in 1831 during the intendancy of Brühl’s successor Count Friedrich Wilhelm von Redern, could not resolve the conflicts between the General-Musik-Direktor and the Intendant. Soon after the King’s death on 7 June 1840, Spontini and Redern were again entangled in conflict. The new King, Friedrich Wilhelm IV, asked both protagonists to submit their grievances. Spontini had accused Redern of preventing the performance of important new German operas, while Redern replied (26 November 1840) that it was Spontini who was obstructing the staging of works by his German competitors. Echoing Brühl, Redern furthermore wrote that ‘für eine deutsche geschäftliche Verwaltung [Spontini] als italienischer Franzose gar nicht geeignet ist’. (‘the Italian Frenchman [Spontini] is not at all qualified for a German administrative position’.)17 Building on national stereotypes, he also called him ‘too passionate’ and impossible to deal with due to his ‘excessive vanity’. He recommended that Spontini be replaced by Meyerbeer, Mendelssohn, or Lindpaintner, ‘three recognized capable and ingenious Prussians’, or by one of the many other talented composers, such as Löwe, Lortzing, or Marschner. They all would be willing to serve as conductors of the orchestra, he asserted and ‘Sie sind überdies Deutsche und nebenbei vernünftige und verträgliche Menschen […]’ (‘moreover, they are all

15 Besides his interest in German music, Spontini also was a great admirer of German literature. He visited Goethe three times in Weimar. In January 1832, he sent him the libretto by Victor Joseph Étienne de Jouy (also librettist of La Vestale and Fernand Cortez) of his new opera project Les Athéniennes, asking for his advice in an accompanying letter. Goethe soon replied, praising the subject and its development and asking for more time to expand on his initial reply (WA, IV: 49: Goethes Briefe Juli 1831-März 1832 (1909), p.208). One month later, on 20 February 1832, he sent back the manuscript with his comments (WA, I: 42/2 (1907), pp. 95-105), complimenting ‘both excellent men’, the poet and the composer, in an accompanying letter with their promising project. WA, IV: 49, pp.237-238. 16 See Libby, pp.255-260. 17 Altmann, ‘Spontini an der Berliner Oper’, p.285.

336 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Germans, as well as sensible and amiable people […]’.)18 The antipathy against foreigners, here personified by Spontini, would later culminate in dramatic onstage events. On 28 and 29 December 1840, the question of authority became public when the Zeitung für die elegante Welt (falsely) reported that, from now on, Spontini would be subordinate to Count Redern. Spontini refuted this statement in the Allgemeine Leipziger Zeitung on 29 January 1841. Most likely due to an imprecise translation of Spontini’s original French version, his defense was interpreted as lèse-majesté and formal proceedings against him were initiated in criminal court. The whole affair had become a sensation in Berlin and, in fear of riots, the performance of Gluck’s Iphigenie in Aulis on 5 February, which was to be conducted by Spontini, was cancelled. When, on 2 April, Spontini did enter the stage in order to conduct Mozart’s Don Giovanni, the audience ‘welcomed’ him with tumultuous shouts: ‘Hinaus mit ihm! fort! werft ihn hinaus!’ (‘Out! Away! Throw him out!’) and ‘Zum Teufel mit dem Fremden, dem Italiener!’ (‘To hell with the foreigner, the Italian!’)19 What had been a private battle about the delineation of jurisdiction at the theater had become a heated public debate in the press, incited by critics such as Rellstab, and finally culminated in a xenophobic mob turning against the outsider Spontini.20 Due to the overwhelming noise, barely a note of the overture could be heard, and when Spontini gave the sign to raise the curtain for the beginning of the first act,

18 Altmann, ‘Spontini an der Berliner Oper’, p.286. Marschner attributed the same character faults to Count Redern that the latter had criticized in Spontini: pride (Stolz), vanity (Eitelkeit) and impudence (Flegelei). Georg Fischer, Marschner- Erinnerungen (Hannover: Hahnsche Buchhandlung, 1918), p.79. 19 Zeitung für die elegante Welt, no. 71 (9 April 1841), p.284. Also see: Anno Mungen, ‘“Zum Teufel mit dem Fremden, dem Italiener!” Bettine von Arnims Eintreten für Gaspare Spontini’, Internationales Jahrbuch der Bettina-von-Arnim-Gesellschaft 8-9 (1996- 1997), 141-161 (p.143). Mungen offers an extensive account of the events leading up to the scandal and discusses Bettine von Arnim’s writings in defence of Spontini, in which she sharply denounced the abuse of state power (by Spontini’s adversaries with the help of the police) for political purposes (pp.157-159). Arnim also questioned the trustworthiness of the translator of Spontini’s statement, and wondered if the mistranslation had been created on purpose (pp.147, 152). An account of the scandal also appears in Libby, pp.476-485. 20 As a foreigner, Spontini had experienced hostile treatment earlier on, as a letter from Zelter (7 February 1832) to Goethe illustrates: Spontini had composed an orchestrated version of Goethe’s Mignon, which was performed on 6 February. The longing for Italy (‘Kennst Du es wohl?’) is evident enough and emphasized in Spontini’s setting. Zelter continued: ‘Beim Hinausgehn rief einer, vernehmlich genug: “Dahin! scher’ Er sich und laß uns ungeschoren!”’ (‘As the people were going out, someone called out quite clearly, “Away. Be gone and leave us unscathed”’.) MA, XX/2, p.1611; Byrne Bodley, Goethe and Zelter, p.544. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 337 nothing happened. The fact that the police watched the whole chaotic outburst passively and made no effort to interfere and protect Spontini also suggests that the entire scandal was part of an intrigue.21 The Zeitung für die elegante Welt even spoke of ‘Lynchjustiz’.22 After Spontini had fled the theater, his position in Berlin became untenable. On 25 August he was dismissed from his post, retaining his privileges and full salary. Although he had been sentenced to nine months imprisonment for lèse-majesté, the King pardoned him on 14 May 1842. Embittered, Spontini went to Paris, but after it became clear that his works were no longer resonating with his audience, he finally returned to his native Italy.

Hoffmann’s Warm Welcome

While Spontini’s appointment had been controversial from the beginning and had been openly opposed by Brühl, no one could have foreseen that matters would get so completely out of hand in the end. Nor had Spontini’s initial reception in Berlin been entirely negative. Soon after Spontini’s arrival in Berlin on 28 May 1820, the Vossische Zeitung published a resounding welcome, entitled Gruß an Spontini (Greeting to Spontini), and signed E. Hffmnn:23 ‘Willkommen unter uns, du hoher herrlicher Meister! – Längst tönte dein Gesang recht in unser Innerstes hinein; dein Genius rührte seine kräftigen Schwingen und mit ihm erhoben wir uns begeistert und fühlten alle Wonne, alles Entzücken des wunderbaren Tonreichs, in dem du herrschest, ein mächtiger Fürst!’ (‘Welcome to our midst, you great, glorious master!—For a long time your song has sounded even in our innermost

21 In his memoirs, Count Redern recounts that Chief of Police Eugen von Puttkammer had ordered that the curtains be kept closed. The King was outraged that he had not been informed about the whole matter in time to prevent such an unworthy departure of a royal servant, and reprimanded the police for their passive role (Redern, Unter drei Königen, pp.222-224). In his diary, the biographer and diplomat Karl August Varnhagen von Ense (1785-1858) presumed that the whole ‘barbaric’ affair was an intrigue, and he visited Spontini on 6 April. Tagebücher von K[arl] A[ugust] Varnhagen von Ense, ed. by Ludmilla Assing, 14 vols (Leipzig: Brockhaus, 1861-1870), I (1861), pp.288-289, 290. 22 Zeitung für die elegante Welt, no. 71, p.283; Mungen, ‘“Zum Teufel mit dem Fremden”’, p.158. 23 Hoffmann’s statement had appeared belatedly (6 June 1820), for he had already penned his enthusiastic welcome on 30 May, after hearing a performance of La Vestale under the direction of music director Seidel in honor of Spontini’s arrival. Since Spontini could not read German, Hoffmann sent him a French translation of his greeting.

338 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera beings; your genius beat its powerful wings and, lifted with it, we were inspired and felt all the ecstasy, all the delight of the wonderful realm of sound in which you rule, a mighty prince!’)24 So far, Hoffmann had only praised Beethoven with such exalted language. Hoffmann’s emphasis on calling Spontini ‘one of us’ is especially noteworthy; he adopts an approach that is diametrically opposed to Brühl’s:

So geht uns auch nun, da du in unserer Mitte weilst, da wir dich ganz unser nennen können, erst das Herz recht auf in voller Freude vor deinen Schöpfungen! – Ja! ganz unser bist du, denn deinen Werken entstrahlt in vollem Himmelsglanz das Wahrhaftige, wie den Werken unseres Händel, Hasse, Gluck, Mozart und aller der Meister, die in Wort und Ton nur echtes, edles Metall ausprägen und nicht prahlen dürfen mit flinkerndem Rauschgold, und nur dem Wahrhaftigen mag sich doch der echte deutsche Sinn erschließen.

(Now that you dwell among us, now that we can call you wholly ours, for the first time our heart leaps up in complete joy before your creative works!—Yes, you are all ours, because truth radiates from your works in a celestial flow, as from the works of our Händel, Hasse, Gluck, Mozart, and all the masters who in word and tone stamp out only genuine, precious metal and need not shine with glittering tinsel, and it is only to truth the real German mind opens up.)25

Spontini is clearly claimed as belonging to Germany although he is not of German origin. Nevertheless, Hoffmann grants him a place in the Pantheon of German composers of vocal music. All of them, however, had established their careers by writing Italian opera, and none (except for Mozart) had composed German operas. Nevertheless, the term ‘German’ as it is used here seems to refer to superior musical quality and taste, independent of language, style, or origin. In putting ‘German’ on par with the sublime and superior, Hoffmann on the one hand seems to favor patriotic sentiments, but his is a cosmopolitan kind of patriotism that sees the amalgamation of various traditions and styles as its ideal. Importing and exporting the best in order to create the best means being open and welcoming to the other or the foreign. Hoffmann could not know how Spontini’s career in Berlin would end when he added the following line: ‘Laß es dir wohl sein unter uns, reiche uns, die wir dir entgegenkommen mit offener deutscher Gemütlichkeit, freundlich die Hand!’ (‘Enjoy yourself among us, hold out to us a friendly hand, which we advance to meet with sincere German cordiality’.)26

24 Schriften zur Musik, p.338; Libby, p.264. 25 Schriften zur Musik, p.338; translation slightly modified after Libby, pp.264-265. 26 Schriften zur Musik, p.338; Libby, p.265. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 339

Hoffmann was certainly aware of the controversial nature of Spontini’s appointment, which he now appeared to want to counteract by insisting on Spontini’s ‘Germanness’. In light of his own operatic ideal, which aims at a synthesis of different national styles, Spontini’s appointment must have sounded like a long-cherished dream come true. Spontini was one of the most prolific opera composers of his time, trained in the Italian style, which he then enriched with elements from the French tradition, especially as represented by Gluck. He had furthermore studied scores by German composers, above all Mozart. Similarly to Hoffmann, who considered Don Giovanni ‘the opera of all operas’, Spontini called this work ‘l’immortel chef d’œuvre’.27 As early as 1811, Spontini had conducted a performance of this work in Italian and according to the authentic score, precisely as Hoffmann had advocated in his tale Don Juan of 1813. It is hardly surprising that the two got along well when Spontini paid Hoffmann a visit only a few days after his arrival. On this occasion, Spontini also asked Hoffmann whether he would be willing to translate the libretto of his latest opera, Olimpie, into German.28 Count Brühl could hardly conceal his dismay in a letter to Hoffmann, inquiring whether it were really true that Hoffmann had agreed to translate Spontini’s latest opera:

Herr Kapellmeister Spontini hat mir geäußert, Euer Wohlgeboren würden sich vielleicht willig finden lassen, die Uebersetzung seiner Oper Olimpia zu übernehmen, und ich frage daher ganz ergebenst an, ob Sie sich dieser Arbeit wirklich zu unterziehen gesonnen seyn möchten. Da das Uebersetzen großer Musikwerke eigentlich eine beschwerliche, oft undankbare zeitraubende Arbeit ist, so habe ich früher nicht unternehmen wollen, sie einem Geschäftsmanne, und noch übrigens so fleißigen Schriftsteller anzutragen, als Euer Wohlgeboren es sind!

(Kapellmeister Spontini informed me that you would perhaps be willing to translate his opera Olimpie and I therefore would like to inquire most humbly, whether you indeed are considering undertaking this task. Given the fact that translating larger musical works is an arduous, time-consuming and often thankless job, I haven’t dared earlier to burden a civil servant and moreover industrious author such as yourself with this.)29

Hoffmann replied on 8 June: ‘Spontini sagte mir bey dem Besuch den er mir wenige Tage nach seiner Ankunft erstattete, daß er schon vor mehreren Monathen in Paris von mir als bekanntem Dichter und Componisten gehört

27 See Spitta, ‘Spontini in Berlin’, p.333. 28 Olimpie had premièred in Paris on 22 December 1819. 29 Letter of 5 June 1820, Briefwechsel, II, p.258.

340 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera und daher gleich den Wunsch gehegt, daß ich die deutsche Bearbeitung seiner Olimpia übernehmen möge’. (‘Spontini told me during the visit he paid me a few days after his arrival that several months ago he had heard of me in Paris as a well-known poet and composer. He had therefore immediately begun to wish that I could take on the German adaptation of his Olympia’.)30 Hoffmann seems keen to correct Brühl, by referring to himself as ‘poet and composer’ (thus countering Brühl’s ‘civil servant’ and ‘industrious author’), whose fame had reached as far as Paris. In this capacity he was willing to provide an ‘adaptation’, not just a ‘translation’, of Spontini’s opera.31 Upon his arrival in Berlin, Spontini had been told that Hoffmann had expressed very hostile sentiments toward him, which must have been a misunderstanding. As Brühl had rightly pointed out, Hoffmann continued, undertaking the adaptation of such a work would be difficult and time-consuming, and he would hardly have found it worth considering, ‘wenn nicht schon Spontinis hohe Meisterschafft Aufopferung verdiente’ (‘if Spontini’s high mastery did not deserve the effort’).32 Moreover, due to the previous misunderstanding, the whole matter had become an affair of honor, so that he was now forced to make every possible effort to bear out the good opinion that Spontini had of his talents. On 28 June 1820, the first act was ready, while the second act was not completed until 20 September, when Hoffmann had to wait for Spontini to provide the third act. Hoffmann’s outright support for Spontini in his welcoming statement, as well as his willingness to collaborate with him on his opera project, stunned not only Brühl but many other contemporaries as well. Only a few years earlier, Hoffmann’s AMZ review in form of a letter had featured a negative evaluation of one of Spontini’s operas. The following section discusses the

30 Briefwechsel, II, p.259; Selected letters, p.296. 31 That Hoffmann was not just boasting, or Spontini being overly polite, is evident from the correspondent A***, who reported on 25 December 1819 from Paris, long before Spontini’s arrival in Berlin: ‘Sehr viel Vergnügen hat es mir gemacht, zu vernehmen, daß der geistreiche, geniale E. T. A. Hoffmann sich der Bearbeitung (denn Uebersetzung wird es nicht zu nennen sein, da dieser talentvolle Mann sich wohl hüten wird, ein so schlechtes Machwerk streng zu übersetzen) des Textes unterzogen hat, und diese Oper daher in Deutschland gleich gehaltvoll an Text und Musik dargestellt werden wird’. (‘I was very pleased to learn that the witty and brilliant E. T. A. Hoffmann has undertaken the [German] adaptation. We can hardly call it a “translation”, for this talented man will certainly avoid translating literally such a poor concoction. This opera will be staged in Germany, rich in both text and music’.) Der Freimüthige, no. 6 (8 January 1820); Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.514; Selected Letters, p.298 fn.4. 32 Briefwechsel, II, p.260; Selected Letters, p.296. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 341 reasons for this apparent discrepancy between the letter and Hoffmann’s welcoming attitude five years later.

Briefe über Tonkunst in Berlin. Erster Brief (Letters on Music in Berlin. First Letter)33

In spite of the ambitious plural in its title, the first letter remained the only one. In fact, it would be Hoffmann’s last review for the AMZ, discussing three concerts he attended in the form of a letter addressed to an informal ‘you’, called ‘my dear friend’ at the end. In an accompanying note to the editor, Hoffmann promised that he would occasionally provide the journal with reviews of musical performances in Berlin.34 Although the concerts reviewed had taken place some time ago, Hoffmann believed that the essay was still of interest, since it dealt rather generally with Romberg’s art of playing and Spontini’s music, and addressed the difference between style and manner in music. In a letter to Härtel of the same day, he presumed that his opinion about Spontini might spark some controversy, ‘denn es liegt in der Tendenz der heutigen Compos[itionen,] daß man jenen Tumultuanten in Schutz nimmt, indessen ist es denn doch gut wenn so etwas zur Sprache komt’. (‘for it is inherent in the trend of today’s compositions to protect that noisemaker; however, it is a good thing to discuss something like that’.)35 The letter begins by nostalgically remembering the glorious old days of the Berlin opera, when composers such as Righini and Reichardt and singers as revered as Margarethe Luise Schick and Johann Christian Franz still

33 AMZ 17: 2 (11 January 1815), cols 17-27. 34 10 December 1814, Briefwechsel, II, p.29. Apparently, the AMZ had earlier requested updates on the musical scene in Berlin, but except for this letter, no further reviews followed. On 14 May 1815, Hoffmann wrote to Fouqué: ‘Ein großes Packet Recensenda für die Musikalische Zeitung, blickt mich im graülichen Umschlag recht gespenstisch an, und aus ihm ertönen dumpfe Stimmen: erlöse – erlöse – erlöse uns aus dem Fegefeuer in dem wir schmachten!!!’ (‘A large package of recensenda for the AMZ is looking at me in its greyish cover like a ghost, and from it sound muted voices: “Deliver, deliver, deliver us from the purgatory in which we languish!!!”’) Briefwechsel, II, p.53; Selected Letters, p.248. He apologized for his slowness in a letter to the editors on 5 October 1815, with the excuse that he did not want to submit anything mediocre or cursory. He also announced that he would review Fidelio after its upcoming first performance in Berlin, and promised to submit the still- outstanding reviews soon (Briefwechsel, II, p.73). His last contribution, though, would be his tale Der Baron von B., sent to the AMZ in January 1819. 35 Letter of 10 December 1814, Briefwechsel, II, p.30; Selected Letters, p.241.

342 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera dominated the stage. Those days were now gone, and there was ‘keine Sängerin, die die gewaltigen Massen Gluckscher Musik in starker Brust zu ergreifen und ertönen zu lassen vermöchte’ (‘no female singer who can sustain and give full-breasted voice to the weighty masses of Gluck’s music […]’) anymore.36 But in contrast to the loss of these singers and composers, in one respect Hoffmann noticed great progress: the quality of the orchestra. Since the two orchestras of the National Theater and the court opera had merged (1811), the orchestra had considerably improved in every way: in volume, intonation, precision, expression, and fire. With this introduction, Hoffmann prepared his review of three performances he attended: a concert by cellist Bernhard Romberg (23 October 1814), Sacchini’s Œdipe à Colonne (9 November 1814) and Spontini’s Fernand Cortez (13 November 1814). In the letter’s introduction, the author informed his addressee that due to his many work-related responsibilities, he had little time to visit the theater and therefore only selected those performances which would stir his inner emotions or at least enrich his artistic experience. It is certainly no coincidence that Romberg’s concert represents the modern age of instrumental music, Sacchini’s Œdipe old serious opera, and Spontini’s Cortez an opera which aims at combining both achievements. The letter thus presents the direction that Hoffmann envisioned for the future of opera. As a performing artist, Hoffmann noted in his review, Romberg had achieved the highest possible goal: the absolute mastery of his instrument makes it

zum unmittelbaren, zwanglosen Organ des Geistes […] dies ist mit aller seiner Stärke und Anmut, mit seinem ganzen, seltenen Reichtum der Töne, so zum Organ des Künstlers geworden, daß es, wie ohne allen Aufwand mechanischer Kraft, wie von selbst, alles ertönen läßt, was der Geist empfunden.

(an immediate, unfettered organ of the spirit […] with all its strength and grace and its rare abundance of sounds, it has become so much an extension of the artist that it seems by itself to vibrate with all the sensations of the spirit, seemingly with no expenditure of mechanical effort whatsoever.)37

Due to Romberg’s absolute control over his instrument, its expression has become as immediate as that of the human voice. The fear expressed in the letter’s introduction that the vox humana, in which the faithful echo of the

36 Schriften zur Musik, p.279; Charlton, p.388. 37 Schriften zur Musik, p.281; Charlton, p.390. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 343 first natural sounds, the most sublime inner presentiments still resonate, might disappear, thus proves unfounded. The review was far less enthusiastic about Romberg as a composer: His symphony, according to Hoffmann, though most charming, lacked the deeper impact of Mozart’s and Beethoven’s symphonies, which stir the inner soul. At the concert, Romberg had also played one of his cello concertos, which he called ‘military’, causing the letter-writer some alarm: ‘ich sah mich gleich nach der großen Trommel um, und erblickte wirklich dieses, für mich wenigstens, im Konzertsaal feindliche Prinzip richtig in einer Ecke des Orchesters’. (‘I immediately looked for the bass drum, and sure enough, this phenomenon which for me at least is so alien to the concert-hall was duly located in a corner of the orchestra’.)38 Fortunately, to the author’s relief, the tumult was only moderate. The next performance took the author back to the days when serious opera still prevailed and he now realized how harshly he had judged Gluck’s contemporaries and successors. He had even preferred Piccinni to Sacchini,39 but upon rehearing Œdipe, he realized that the opera’s genuinely tragic expression and noble simplicity put Sacchini on an equal footing with those great masters.40 He dearly missed Margarethe Schick as Antigone, and found the performance of Œdipus mannered, pretentious, and contrary to the spirit of the work.41 The orchestra’s contribution was most praiseworthy, however, and on the whole he was moved by the performance and its mighty sounds, which echoed in his mind long afterwards. The reviewer had now laid the groundwork for a discussion of Spontini’s Fernand Cortez. He first cited the generally-held opinion that Spontini composed in the grand tragic style of Gluck, but with a much richer, and often too-rich, orchestration and with artificial harmonic progressions and modulations. Furthermore, he argued that Spontini does not represent a style at all, not even an overpowering (‘gewaltsam’) one, but that his music embodies manner rather than style.42 The true style of each genre emerges

38 Schriften zur Musik, p.283; Schriften zur Musik, p.391. 39 Appreciation of Piccinni is expressed in Der Dichter und der Komponist and in ‘Höchst zerstreute Gedanken’ (‘Extremely Random Thoughts’), first published in Zeitung für die elegante Welt nos. 2-5 (4, 6, 7 & 8 January 1814, cols 12-14, 22-23, 29-30 & 36-39) and later as Kreisleriana I no. 5. 40 Schriften zur Musik, p.284. 41 Performed by Joseph Fischer; one year later, Hoffmann would judge his performance as ‘meisterhaft’. 42 Hoffmann’s distinction between manner and style bears some resemblance to Goethe’s definition in his essay ‘Einfache Nachahmung der Natur, Manier, Styl’ (‘Simple Imitation of Nature, Manner, Style’, Der Teutsche Merkur (February 1789),

344 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera from the inner soul of the master: ‘Glaubst Du nicht, daß der eigentliche Stil in der Musik aus der lebendigsten Erkenntnis einer bestimmt eingegrenzten Region und ihrer Gestalten hervorgehe? […] Aus dem Innersten des Meisters heraus formt sich das Objektive, in sich Abgeründete’. (‘Do you not agree that true style in music proceeds from the liveliest awareness of a precisely delineated territory and its individual features? […] From deep within the artist’s mind, objective, rounded forms emerge’.)43 Manner, to the contrary, is a result of external stimuli taken from various unrelated spheres, mixed together, and leading to a highly subjective language:

Es ist wohl Schwäche oder Unbehülflichkeit des innern Geistes, wenn er vergebens darnach ringt, aus sich heraus zu formen […] Der wahrhaft objektive Charakter bleibt unerreichbar: ihn soll der subjektive, individuelle ersetzen, der überall sich anhängt […] Hieraus entsteht ja doch das, was wir Manier nennen, die, wie ich glaube, nichts anders ist, als der Ausdruck einer stereotypischen Subjektivität des Künstlers.

(It is surely when the inner spirit is enfeebled or impotent that it strives in vain to create from within itself […] Any truly objective character lies out of reach; its place is inevitably taken by a limited, subjective one, which remains always

113-120). In Goethe’s essay, style refers to the highest level that art can achieve. While ‘[...] manner has a facility for grouping superficial appearances, so style is based on the profoundest knowledge, on the essence of things insofar as we can recognize it in visual and tangible forms’. (‘Wie [...] die Manier eine Erscheinung mit einem leichten fähigen Gemüth ergreift, so ruht der Styl auf den tiefsten Grundfesten der Erkenntniß, auf dem Wesen der Dinge, in so fern uns erlaubt ist es in sichtbaren und greiflichen Gestalten zu erkennen’.) (Goethe, ‘Einfache Nachahmung’, p.116; translation in: Goethe on Art. Selected, edited, and translated by John Gage (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1980), p.22. For a discussion of Goethe’s turn from a rather ambiguous to a purely pejorative definition of the term ‘Manier’ see Hilda M. Brown, ‘Goethe and Hoffmann on “Manier”’, Oxford German Studies, 33 (2004), 149-165. Brown does not reflect on Hoffmann’s musical writings, however, as her conclusion of ‘Hoffmann’s unequivocally positive acceptance of “Manier”’ (p.165) shows.) In 1802, August Wilhelm Schlegel noted in one of his Berlin lectures (Vorlesungen über schöne Litteratur und Kunst (Lectures on Fine Art and Literature, 1801-1804) that the distinction between manner and style, originally used in the visual arts, was now effectively applied to the other arts as well. For Schlegel, an artwork manifests style if the artist has transcended his individuality and derived his choices from a higher principle (‘Kunstprincip’). (August Wilhelm Schlegel, Kritische Schriften, 2 vols (Berlin: Reimer, 1828), II, pp.329-330.) In 1810, Hoffmann made ‘Besonnenheit’ (‘rational awareness’), as the self-restraining agency of the ingenious artist, responsible for Beethoven’s unique style (review of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, Schriften zur Musik, p.37). 43 Schriften zur Musik, p.285; Charlton, p.392. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 345

dependent; […] This is how what we call manner arises; it is, I believe, nothing but an expression of the artist’s stereotyped subjectivity.)44

It is certainly no coincidence that there are many similarities with another AMZ contribution on opera seria, Über einen Ausspruch Sachini’s, which Hoffmann had written half a year before. Moreover, he was currently working on the Kreisleriana, in which this contribution was placed as the penultimate piece (Kreisleriana II, 6). Both texts, Über einen Ausspruch Sachini’s and the letter on music in Berlin, discuss grand serious opera and its true style, and both praise Gluck as exemplary in this respect. In the earlier essay, Hoffmann had stated: ‘der Künstler muß, um uns zu rühren, um uns gewaltig zu ergreifen, selbst in eigner Brust tief durchdrungen sein und nur das, in der Extase bewußtlos im Innern Empfangene mit höherer Kraft festzuhalten in den Hieroglyphen der Töne (den Noten) ist die Kunst, wirkungsvoll zu komponieren’. (‘in order to move us, in order to stir us profoundly, the artist must be affected deeply within his own heart; and the art of composing effectively is to employ the highest possible skill to capture ideas unconsciously conceived in a state of ecstasy, and to write them down in the hieroglyphs of musical sound (notation)’.45 This emergence of rounded forms in a distinctive and pure language from deep within the composer’s mind constitutes ‘style’, as Hoffmann would later define it in his letter from Berlin. Composers who distrust their own inspiration and incorporate anything they see into their music, thereby creating an effect reminiscent of the works of the great masters, possess manner rather than style. The difference between misguided effect and true, deeply-moving impact, or, using the later terminology of the letter from Berlin, the difference between manner and style, is not the only similarity between the two contributions. In discussing the musical parameters essential for making a true impact on the listener (and thus, in Hoffmann’s view, for true style), the later letter exactly follows the argumentation of the earlier contribution. ‘Das Erste und Vorzüglichste in der Musik, welches mit wunderbarer Zauberkraft das menschliche Gemüt ergreift, ist die Melodie’ (‘The first and foremost element in music is melody, which seizes the human imagination with magical power’), Über einen Ausspruch Sachini’s had stated. The melody should however be ‘singable’, flowing freely from the human breast. If this quality is lacking, the melody remains but a string of separate notes striving in vain

44 Schriften zur Musik, p.285; Charlton, p.393. 45 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/1, p.442; Charlton, p.155.

346 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera to become music.46 This is exactly the problem with Spontini’s melodies, according to the author of the letter on music in Berlin: ‘[...] daß aber vorzüglich die Melodien selbst oft aus den verschiedensten Elementen gewebt sind, und so nicht aus dem innersten Geist geformt und gestaltet hervorgegangen, sondern nach äußern Anregungen künstlich zusammen- gebaut zu sein scheinen’. (‘[...] the melodies themselves are often woven from the most diverse elements, and so seem not to have emerged from the inner spirit already formed and fashioned, but to have been artificially fabricated according to external requirements’.)47 In short, they represent manner, not style. For the reviewer, the absence of singable melodic lines is thus responsible for Spontini’s lack of style, and his music never deeply stirs the heart of the listener. But even in Cortez, the letter’s author perceives some echoes of Spontini’s true homeland: Italianate flowing melodies in the vocal writing, such as, for example, in a trio of the second act. In Über einen Ausspruch Sachini’s, Italy had been defined as the cradle of true melody: ‘Wie kommt es denn, daß die einfachen Gesänge der alten Italiener, oft nur vom Baß begleitet, das Gemüt so unwiderstehlich rühren und erheben? liegt es nicht lediglich in dem herrlichen, wahrhaft singenden Gesange?’ (‘How is it that the simple arias of the earlier Italians, often accompanied only by a continuo, move and elevate the spirit so irresistibly? Does the explanation not lie entirely in their sublime, truly singing melody?’)48 Germans, he had stated, should therefore familiarize themselves with the old Italian masters. Composers of grand serious opera should strive to synthesize and transcend the best of various national styles, creating a cosmopolitan operatic style. Both essays then discuss the profound art of harmony. The letter from Berlin harshly condemns Spontini:

Spontinis Übergänge sind beinahe immer gewaltsam, oder vielmehr nicht Übergänge zu nennen. Erst ein peinliches Hin- und Herwogen in Tonika und Dominante, dann plötzlich Fall und Sturz in die entfernteste Tonart, die in der Musik immer die zunächstliegende ist. Rastlos wird der Zuhörer hin- und hergestoßen, und kein Moment der Handlung kann ihn wahrhaft ergreifen.

(Spontini’s transitions are almost always brutal, or rather they are not transitions at all. First a painful oscillation between tonic and dominant, then a sudden lunge into the remotest key possible, which in music is always the immediately neighbouring one. The listener is restlessly tossed back and forth, and is unable to savour fully any important moment of the drama.)49

46 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/1, p.444; Charlton, p.156. 47 Schriften zur Musik, p.286; Charlton, p.393. 48 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/1, p.444; Charlton, p.157. 49 Schriften zur Musik, p.287; Charlton, p.394. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 347

In his earlier essay, Hoffmann had explained that true genius does not rely on artificial artistry to impress the audience, but ‘er schreibt es nur auf, wie sein innrer Geist die Momente der Handlung in Tönen aussprach’ (‘he merely follows the dictates of his inner spirit, as it translates the dramatic situations into music’).50 Abrupt changes of key will only have an impact if there is a hidden underlying relationship; instrumentation (the third parameter discussed in Über einen Ausspruch Sachini’s), orchestration, accompanying instrumental figures, dynamics, and everything that contributes to the color of the music should follow from the drama’s character and not be used simply to provide some variety.51 Similarly, Hoffmann later explains in his letter from Berlin that the instrumentation can only be effective when it enforces the inner harmonic structure and when the individual character of the various instruments brings to the fore the deepest dramatic motives. He suspects that Spontini only increases the volume for effect:

[...] denn beinahe immerwährend ertönen sämtliche gewöhnliche Blasinstrumente, und noch überdem Posaunen, kleine Flöten, Trommel, Triangel und Becken, bis zur Betäubung des Ohrs. Überall, wo nur irgendein erhöhter Ausdruck des Moments denkbar, strömen alle äußere Mittel zusammen, und so wird jeder Klimax unmöglich.

([...] almost continuously we hear not only the standard complement of wind instruments, but also trombones, piccolos, drum, triangle, and cymbals, until the ears are deafened. Whenever any heightened dramatic expression is possible, every external resource is brought to bear, with the result that any climax becomes impossible.)52

Although he does not mention a specific composer in the earlier contribution, Hoffmann appears to have had Spontini in mind when he summarizes how the urge to outdo earlier composers resulted in the strangest compositions, featuring crude key changes without any dramatic motivation and blaring chords from every possible wind instrument ‘wie bunte Farben, die nie zum Bilde werden’ (‘like garish colours that never coalesce into a picture’).53 Hoffmann uses the same adjective, ‘wunderliche Musik’ (‘strange music’), when he introduces the reader to Spontini’s Cortez in his letter from Berlin, and this discussion is preceded by a paragraph on Sacchini, thus reinforcing the connection between the two essays. The

50 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/1, p.445; Charlton, p.157. 51 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/1, pp.446-447. 52 Schriften zur Musik, p.287; Charlton, p.394. 53 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, II/1, p.443; Charlton, p.156.

348 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera conclusion about Spontini’s music at the end of the discussion could also have been taken from the earlier essay: Spontini’s music, the letter’s author states, totally lacks inner truth and therefore fails to profoundly move the listener. Whether Hoffmann specifically targeted Spontini in his Über einen Ausspruch Sachini’s remains unclear, but he must have found its arguments useful for his discussion of Spontini’s music in his later letter from Berlin, thus providing a retroactive concrete example for his more theoretical earlier exploration.54 Thus, the contrast with his overly-enthusiastic words of welcome in early June 1820 upon Spontini’s arrival in Berlin could not be more profound, as many of Hoffmann’s contemporaries and present-day scholars have noted. Although the impression arises that Hoffmann in 1814 had been addressing Spontini’s music in general, he in fact was restricting his observations to this particular opera: ‘Glaube aber ja nicht, daß, so ungünstig Dir mein Urteil über den Cortez erscheinen mag, ich dem Meister Genie und Talent abspreche: vielmehr halte ich ihn für viel besser, als er sich bis jetzt gezeigt hat’. (‘Do not think, however, unfavourable though my judgement of Cortez may seem to you, that I deny the composer all genius and talent; I would prefer to say that I consider him to be much better than he has hitherto

54 Another AMZ article also seems to have inspired Hoffmann’s first letter in Berlin, or at least voiced exactly the same opinion: a review of the première of Fernand Cortez in Paris on 28 November 1809, which was attended by the Emperor himself as well as the King of Saxony, as the correspondent reported (AMZ 12: 14 (3 January 1810), col.215). Like Hoffmann, the Paris correspondent was not impressed by Spontini’s latest opera, stating that its music had no style at all: ‘Das, was man im höhern Sinne Styl nennet, hat sie [die Musik] gar nicht’. (‘What one would call style in a higher sense is totally lacking’.) (AMZ 12: 14, col.216.) His judgment of Spontini’s use of harmony and modulation is also congruent with Hoffmann’s: ‘Er hat eine Menge Dissonanzen angebracht, ohne Vorbereitung, eine Menge scharfer Uebergänge, ohne Veranlassung in der Sache selbst […]’. (‘He incorporated many dissonances, without proper preparation, and a number of sharp transitions, without any dramatic motivation […]’.) He also complained about the loudness of this ‘barbaric’ music: ‘An Lärmen fehlt’s nicht, wol aber an Gesang. Um Barbaren zu zeichnen, hat er barbarische Musik gemacht. Die Ohren betäubt sie weidlich, aber Freude gewährt sie nicht’. (‘There is no lack of noise, but all the more of singing. In order to depict barbarians, he wrote barbaric music. It totally deafens the ears, but does not grant any joy’.) No formal unity holds the ideas and melodic lines together: ‘Es sind Noten, die, wie wohlgebildete Fremdlinge, sich zufällig treffen, und ohne mit einander etwas zu thun zu haben, vorüberwandern’. (‘The notes casually meet, like well-mannered strangers, and pass by, since they have nothing to do with each other’.) (AMZ 12: 14, col.217.) Whether Hoffmann was aware of this review or not, this similar judgment anticipates criticisms of Spontini commonly made in the 1820s and 30s. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 349 shown himself’.)55 At the end of the letter, Hoffmann even urged the reader not to miss out on a performance of Cortez if he happened to be visiting the city of B[erlin]. The fact that the target of his criticism was indeed Cortez rather than Spontini’s music in general is also evident from an entry in his diary on 17 January 1815, when he noted: ‘Angenehmer Brief der Redact[ion] der “Mus[ikalischen] Z[eitung]” – Der lezte Aufsatz über Romberg und Cortez ist eingerückt’. (‘pleasant letter from the editors of the AMZ. My latest essay on Romberg and Cortez has been published’.)56 Five years later, in a letter to Brühl on the progress of his translation of Olimpie, he assured him that although the task was a difficult one, he nevertheless enjoyed working on it because the music was excellent and surpassed Spontini’s music for Cortez by far.57 Cortez was in fact not very representative of Spontini’s operatic style. Inspired by Napoleon’s Spanish campaign, Cortez was of a markedly military character, incorporating many marches and marchlike music and employing more percussion instruments than usual. Hoffmann was not particularly fond of military music, as he had announced in the preceding discussion of Romberg’s concert, and he would also express his dislike of march music in his later book Seltsame Leiden eines Theaterdirektors. Spontini had, moreover, tried to depict the exotic Aztecs by using characteristic orchestral colors, wild dances, and additional percussion in order to distinguish the barbarians from the civilized Spaniards. This exotic extravagance, however, only added ‘external’ elements and did thus not emerge from the inner spirit, as Hoffmann had put it.58 Hoffmann’s disapproval of Cortez, however, also seemed to have been prompted by its cultural context: ‘Sollte die Umgebung, die Bühne, für welche er zunächst schrieb, nicht auf den Meister gewirkt haben? Diese trunkne Nüchternheit, diese kalte Glut, dieser klanglose Lärm, wie er leider in so vieler moderner Musik jetzt zu finden, ging ja von dort aus!’ (‘Could the environment, the stage for which he originally wrote, not have exerted its influence on the composer? This drunken sobriety, this cold ardour, this unsonorous noise, which is sadly to be found in so much modern music, had its starting point there!’)59 The stage for which Spontini had written Cortez was of course the Paris Opéra of Napoleonic France. According to Hoffmann, it was not only Spontini but also the historico-political

55 Schriften zur Musik, p.288; Charlton, p.395. 56 Tagebücher, p.260. 57 Letter of 28 June 1820, Briefwechsel, II, p.265. 58 Hoffmann’s lukewarm reaction to Winter’s Das unterbrochene Opferfest also seems to indicate that he wasn’t too fond of exotic topics, preferring Greek and Roman tragedies in which a twist of fate evokes the deepest human emotions. 59 Schriften zur Musik, p.288; Charlton, p.395.

350 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera circumstances that were responsible for the flaws in this work. The opera had been commissioned by Napoleon himself in order to glorify his upcoming invasion of Spain. At the end of his review, Hoffmann maliciously turns the original intention of the opera upside-down by telling the anecdote about a young pretty girl sitting behind him during the performance who cheered when the holy statue of the god in the Mexican temple was toppled. She thought that this referred to the toppling of the statue of Napoleon in Paris. This conscious reversal of the opera’s historical implications reveals Hoffmann’s real reasons for his dislike of Cortez. His anti-Napoleonic views had been expressed most clearly in his Die Vision auf dem Schlachtfelde bei Dresden (December 1813), but had also been evident in his review on Boieldieu (see Chapter Three). Almost a year later, it seemed that Hoffmann’s harsh judgment of Spontini’s opera was at least as influenced by his hatred of Napoleon as it was by musically-based arguments.

Hoffmann’s Remaining Berlin Reviews

After Spontini’s arrival in Berlin, all of Hoffmann’s contributions for Berlin newspapers and journals dealt with Spontini as a conductor or composer, and his last and longest review ever was dedicated to Spontini’s opera Olimpia. This indicates the extent to which the work of the new General- Musik-Direktor in Berlin must have interested Hoffmann. The common opinion, still held in the secondary literature, is that Hoffmann completely reversed his opinion, shifting from his original, highly negative judgment to real appreciation and even admiration of Spontini. This view, however, is not supported by the facts, as will be shown below.60 While it is true that

60 Hoffmann’s reversal of opinion concerning Spontini is noted in studies and commentaries alike: Chantler, E. T. A. Hoffmann’s Musical Aesthetics, pp.150-153; Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, III, pp.1123-1124 (commentary to ‘Gruß an Spontini’); Miller, ‘Hoffmann und Spontini’, pp.406, 416-417; Gess, Gewalt der Musik, pp.278, 330, 333, 334; Sanna Pederson, ‘A. B. Marx, Berlin Concert Life, and German National Identity’, 19th-Century Music, 18: 2 (Fall 1994), 87-107 (p.94). Libby formulates Hoffmann’s change of heart as follows: ‘Within five years he took two positions on the artistic value of Spontini’s works, positions not only diametrically opposed, but also extreme in expression. His first opinion was highly unfavorable (pp.260-261), […] but by the time of Spontini’s arrival in Berlin, Hoffmann’s own opinion had undergone a complete reversal’ (p.263); Anno Mungen, ‘Olimpie’, Pipers Enzyklopädie des Musiktheaters. Oper, Operette, Musical, Ballett, ed. by Carl Dahlhaus and Sieghart Döhring, 7 vols (Munich, Zurich: Piper, 1986-1997), V: Werke. Piccinni - Spontini (1994), pp.779-782 (p.780); Hilda Meldrum Brown, ‘“Italia and Germania”: Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 351

Hoffmann studied Spontini’s scores, this was not the reason for his supposed change of heart. After all, he had already studied them before he wrote his highly critical letter on music in Berlin, including its scathing remarks on Cortez. However, his fundamentally positive opinion of the composer can be seen in a diary entry of 7 May 1813: ‘Probe von “Cortez” angehört und mich sehr erbaut’ (‘[I] heard a rehearsal of Cortez, which edified me much’.)61 On 18 May, he heard a performance of Spontini’s La Vestale, obtained the score on 3 June, and planned to add the opera to the repertoire of the Seconda company; this did not occur due to a sudden change of venue, however.62 A remark made by Ludwig in Der Dichter und der Komponist (written in September and October of 1813) initially appears more in tune with the letter from Berlin. When Ludwig bemoans the disappearance of the old tragic opera, he also briefly mentions Spontini. After pointing out the ‘intimate kinship’ between tragic opera and church music, of which modern composers were unaware, he continued: ‘den in üppiger Fülle überbrausenden Spontini nicht ausgenommen. Des herrlichen Gluck, der wie ein Heros dasteht, mag ich gar nicht erwähnen’. (‘not even Spontini, for all his exuberant abundance. I need hardly mention the magnificent Gluck, who stands forth like a demigod’.)63 Although Gluck’s superiority is beyond discussion, Ludwig does not criticize Spontini as harshly as does the letter from Berlin. He singles out Spontini as special, even though he may not attain Hoffmann’s ideal as exemplified by Gluck. Indeed, in his 1816 review for the DW, Hoffmann would call La Vestale a ‘grandiose masterpiece’. Apart from his highly negative judgment of Cortez in the letter (and even here, it is partly reversed at the end), all of these comments on Spontini express some degree of admiration at least, sometimes even great enthusiasm. Only a close reading of the other contributions concerning Spontini can shed more light on Hoffmann’s stance on the composer, and whether (and to what extent) he changed his mind, or even completely reversed his opinion, as is suggested in most scholarship.

Reflections on a theme in the works of E. T. A. Hoffmann’, Publications of the English Goethe Society, 70 (2001), 5-15, (p.9 fn.12). 61 Tagebücher, p.203. In his letter to Kunz of 19 August 1813, he describes his heavy workload, with one difficult opera following the other: Iphigenia, Faniska, Sylvana, Cortez (Briefwechsel, I, p.409). Although Hoffmann apparently planned to conduct Cortez, a performance never took place. 62 Tagebücher, pp.206, 210; Letter to Speyer, 13 July 1813, Briefwechsel, I, pp.393-394. 63 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.767; Charlton, p.201. Hoffmann did not revise this remark on Spontini when he included the essay in the first volume of Die Serapions- Brüder in 1819.

352 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Spontini as Conductor: A Concert for the King, Armide, and Don Juan

After Hoffmann’s warm welcome for Spontini upon his arrival in Berlin, his first review, published in the Vossische Zeitung, related to a concert conducted by Spontini on 3 August 1820 to celebrate the King’s birthday. Spontini performed the same Preußischer Volksgesang that he had presented to the King in 1818, followed by a festive march. First, Hoffmann countered the reservation that many held towards such an overpowering display (up to 350 people sang and played in the choir and orchestra), assuring his readers: ‘Dieselbe Stärke, dasselbe Feuer, derselbe hohe geniale Schwung, der Spontinis Werken die Bewunderung der Welt erworben hat, offenbart sich auch in jenem Liede das einfach und würdig wie es gedacht den Stempel des Genies trägt und wahrhafter Begeisterung’. (‘The strength, fire, and sublime exuberance which have won universal admiration for Spontini’s works are also evident in this song, which in the simplicity and dignity of its thought bears the stamp of true inspiration and genius’.)64 He thus emphasizes Spontini’s international fame, as well as his genius, which prevents him from displaying exuberance where it is not needed: the Volkslied is simple and dignified despite its elaborate staging. Moreover, the highly-inspired composer is able to motivate the performing musicians as well: ‘[D]er Taktstock wird in seiner Hand zum wahren Zauberstab, womit er oft nur schlummernde Kräfte ins Leben weckt, daß sie sich mächtig erheben im Bewußtsein ihrer Gewalt’. (‘In his hand the baton becomes a veritable magic wand, with which he wakens into life dormant forces which then rise up in majestic awareness of their power’.)65 Hoffmann’s praise of Spontini’s conducting stands in stark contrast to Brühl’s complaints about the composer’s lack of experience. According to Hoffmann, the two orchestras and choir performed in superb harmony, with fiery energy, deep feeling, and great spirit, and the overall effect was overwhelming.66 As he had in his Gruß an Spontini, he again hailed ‘our excellent Spontini’ as a Berliner. Finally, he invited everyone to pay tribute to the ‘great master’, expressing the conviction that the composer’s high enthusiasm for art showed great promise for future enjoyment.67 The exalted tone of the review seems to have been inspired by the ‘enthusiasm’ that Spontini conveyed; Hoffmann used the word five times in reference to the composer’s works, calling him a ‘splendid master’. Hoffmann’s high

64 Schriften zur Musik, p.339; Charlton, p.422. 65 Schriften zur Musik, p.339; Charlton, p.422. 66 Schriften zur Musik, p.339. 67 Schriften zur Musik, p.340. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 353 praise for Spontini’s compositions and conducting, along with the assertion that his work was of the highest international standing, reveal how necessary and important he considered the residence of such a prolific master at the Berlin opera to be. Even though one of Hoffmann’s favorite singers, Johanna Eunike, was singing the title role, and Schinkel designed the scenery, the ‘little opera’, Berton’s Aline, Reine de Golconde, made but a feeble effect on the audience; no one was to blame, however, since ‘our opera company at the moment’, Hoffmann lamented, was like a sickly child, an orphan abandoned by its guardians.68 With the appointment of Brühl as theater manager and the engagement of stage designer Schinkel and singers such as Anna Milder, Hoffmann had been optimistic about the future of the Berlin opera, as his first set of reviews for the DW (1815) had revealed (see Chapter Five). But in the second group of reviews from 1816, Hoffmann had pointed out how the opera’s performance quality was still lagging behind that of its peers. Moreover, all composers and conductors were only known locally, and no greater operatic works of importance, let alone of international standing, had been composed or produced in Berlin. Finally, the conducting quality was mediocre at best, as Brühl himself had remarked in his letters to the King.69 Berlin could therefore not compete with opera centers such as Paris and Vienna and it was not surprising that Hoffmann’s expectations should be revived when Spontini joined the Berlin opera. For the first time, an opera composer with an international reputation would be based in Berlin, and hopefully raise its operatic stage to a European level. Indeed, Spontini met Hoffmann’s high expectations when he took up the baton to conduct Gluck’s Armide. Delighted, Hoffmann wrote: ‘Es ist gar schön und gibt es kaum schöneres im Leben, als wenn erfüllt wird, was man gehofft. So beginnt unser Spontini die schönen Hoffnungen zu erfüllen, die wir in uns getragen’ (‘There is hardly anything more beautiful in life than when one’s hopes are being fulfilled. Thus our Spontini begins to fulfill our great hopes, which we have carried inside’.)70 His insistence on ‘our Spontini’ again asserts his ideal of a cosmopolitan opera, which now seemed within reach with the appointment of Spontini. It also reminds Berliners to embrace the foreign composer fully and to judge him on his merits rather than his origin. As in his previous review of Spontini’s concert for the King, he commended the composer’s fire, energy, and prudence as a conductor.

68 Schriften zur Musik, p.340. 69 Brühl had not merely called Gürlich and Seidel mediocre, but had also voted against Bernhard Romberg’s appointment as music director, since he was too insignificant as a composer and conductor. Altmann, ‘Spontini an der Berliner Oper’, p.254-255 fn.2. 70 Schriften zur Musik, p.340.

354 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

He also appeared to counter allegations of Spontini’s vanity by emphasizing that Spontini not only conducted his own works well, but also works by others, such as Gluck’s Armide. ‘Der wahre geniale Künstler’, he noted, ‘behält nur die Kunst und ihre Werke im Auge, ohne darauf bedacht zu sein, nur seine Person zu hegen und zu pflegen’. (‘The true ingenious artist only has art itself and works of art in mind, without caring about his own personal reputation’.)71 Spontini’s glorious success in overcoming all of the difficulties he faced in conducting a work in a different arrangement and language, Hoffmann continued, was worthy of special appreciation. The orchestra and artists on stage worked harmoniously together, achieving a tremendous effect. The heart of the review paid tribute to the singers’ excellent performance, above all that of Anna Milder-Hauptmann, but also of Josephine Schulze, Caroline Seidler-Wranitzky, Johanna Eunike, and Carl Adam Bader. Although the performance was of such quality that each moment was a highlight, Hoffmann singled out as particularly admirable the duet of Lucinde and the Danish knight (Eunike/Bader, Act IV, Scene 2), the duet between Rinaldo and Armida (Stümer/Milder, Act V, Scene 1), and Armida’s closing scene, which had also acted as the climax in Hoffmann’s first tale Ritter Gluck. He had, however, softened his judgment of B. A. Weber as a conductor of Gluck’s works, now calling his performances ‘solid’ (‘gediegen’) and reminding the readers that it was Weber, who deserved full credit for returning Gluck’s masterworks to the stage.72 Before closing his review with high praise for Schinkel’s excellent stage design, Hoffmann wondered whether the demons could be dressed in garb inspired by models from antiquity, since at the moment they looked more like fishmongers. The review reflects Hoffmann’s aspirations for the Berlin opera, which he finally saw beginning to be fulfilled by Spontini’s engagement. Hoffmann delighted in the staging of an operatic masterpiece cast with the best singers and directed by an inspiring and demanding conductor, which, together with the scenery, had succeeded in achieving a unified effect.

Hoffmann’s next contribution Bescheidene Bemerkung (A Modest Remark) is a defense of Spontini’s interpretation of Don Giovanni.73 Spontini had

71 Schriften zur Musik, p.340. 72 Schriften zur Musik, p.340. 73 The full title of the article is: Bescheidene Bemerkung zu dem die letzte Aufführung der Oper Don Juan betreffenden in No. 142 dieser Zeitung enthaltenen Aufsatze (A Modest Remark Concerning the Essay on the Latest Performance of the Opera Don Giovanni, which appeared in no. 142 of this newspaper), published in Vossische Zeitung no. 144 (30 November, 1820). Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 355 rehearsed and performed a new production of Hoffmann’s favorite opera, for which he had made some casting changes and had insisted on employing the full orchestra, especially since the opera house Unter den Linden was much bigger than the Schauspielhaus (which, after it burned down in 1817, did not reopen until 1821).74 This production premièred on 22 November 1820 and was severely criticized in the Vossische Zeitung of 25 November (signed v….e), in particular for its overly-heavy orchestration, which, according to the critic, drowned out the singers, and for its frantic tempos. A memo by another author immediately following this harsh review criticized Johanna Eunike for embellishing certain notes in a different way than Mozart had prescribed. Hoffmann’s Bescheidene Bemerkung is a response to the allegations presented in these reviews, as written from the perspective of a musical layman. He pretends to quote someone who had been in contact with Mozart’s ghost (one is reminded of Hoffmann’s tale Don Juan). The critic in the Vossische Zeitung had assumed that, due to the frantic performance, Mozart’s ghost must have fled behind the seven double basses. Hoffmann humorously countered that there must have been a very different ghost haunting the critic, since there had only been five such instruments in the orchestra. Moreover, this ghost must also have prevented him from hearing the grand singing of Josephine Schulze as Donna Anna, the splendid heavenly sound of Anna Milder, and the pure and graceful singing of Johanna Eunike. For two reasons, Mozart would certainly have used the full orchestra, the medium explained: The larger hall required more players, especially in passages that relied on a mighty and powerful effect. Secondly, this opera depended on instrumental power, and the second finale in particular was intended to evoke all horrors of hell in the singing as well as in the orchestra. The spiritualist furthermore asserted that never before had this terrible ghost scene evoked a more overwhelming effect in him than in this latest performance of Don Giovanni; it had sent chills down his spine and he could feel his hair standing on end. While modestly admitting that he was also an admirer of Mozart and his Don Giovanni, the author stated forcefully that ‘die nicht genug zu lobenden Anstrengungen unseres Spontini’ (‘the efforts of our Spontini that could not be praised enough’)

74 In the 1815 production, which Hoffmann had reviewed for the DW, Josephine Schulze had sung Donna Elvira, but she was now cast as Donna Anna (previously sung by Auguste Schmalz), while Anna Milder-Hauptmann took over the role of Donna Elvira. Joseph Fischer had left the Berlin opera, and the role of Don Giovanni was now performed by Heinrich Blume (previously the Commendatore, who was now sung by the guest performer Hillebrand), Don Ottavio (previously Friedrich Eunike) had been replaced by Carl Adam Bader, while Zerlina (Therese Eunike) was now sung by her daughter Johanna Eunike.

356 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera would finally lead to a perfect performance of this masterpiece, and that such an event might occur very soon.75 Due to some unforeseen circumstances and because more time might be needed for such a big orchestra, the singers, and the conductor to become fully comfortable with the music and each other, this had not yet been completely achieved. It is noteworthy that Hoffmann, posing as a modest author claiming to be a simple layperson ‘in everything concerning music and especially singing’, once more inclusively spoke of ‘our Spontini’ and defended the latter’s decisions concerning tempi, orchestration, and casting. The critic of the Vossische Zeitung immediately reacted to Hoffmann’s response with an article entitled ‘Zur freundlichen Erwiederung an Herrn Hff’ (‘A friendly response to Mr. Hff’).76 His reaction, however, was sharp rather than friendly, and also addressed Hoffmann’s relationship with Spontini by accusing him of skillfully courting the conductor. Mr. Hff’s certainty concerning the perfection of future Don Giovanni productions, the critic noted, seemed to suggest that he was personally acquainted with Spontini. In fact, it also showed that his own criticism of the latest performance had been legitimate. The exchange between Hoffmann and the critic clearly showed that personal as well as musical motives played a role in the discussion. Although not blind to the performance’s shortcomings, Hoffmann supported Spontini’s musical choices and his efforts at the Berlin opera in general, while the critic tried to depict Hoffmann as a Spontini partisan. The increasing caution with which criticism as well as praise had to be phrased became abundantly evident in Hoffmann’s review of the Festspiel Lalla Rûkh, composed and conducted by Spontini.

Spontini as Court Composer: Lalla Rûkh

As part of his duties, Spontini was responsible for music on royal occasions and other court festivities. One such occasion was the Festspiel on 27 January 1821, performed in honour of Grand Duke Nicholas Pavlovich (who became Czar Nicholas I in 1825) and his wife Grand Duchess Alexandra Feodorovna (Princess Charlotte of Prussia, daughter of the current King of Prussia Friedrich Wilhelm III). It was based on the oriental romance Lalla Rookh by the Irish poet Thomas Moore (1779-1852) and consisted of songs and dances. Brühl directed the play and he designed the oriental costumes.

75 Schriften zur Musik, p.351. 76 Vossische Zeitung (2 December 1820); the complete text of this response appears in Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, pp.555-556. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 357

The best singers of the Berlin opera performed the songs, featuring, among others, Anna Milder-Hauptmann, Josephine Schulze, Carl Adam Bader, and Johanna Eunike. The actors were all members of the Royal family and high nobility (e.g., Grand Duchess Alexandra as Lalla Rûkh); among them were people whom Hoffmann knew well, such as Count Brühl, and Baron Fouqué and his wife. On the day of the première, Hoffmann wrote to Brühl inquiring whether he could still receive a ticket since he would be very interested in hearing Spontini’s music.77 Since Brühl replied that it was already too late, Hoffmann must have attended the second performance on 11 February. He had promised a review for Adolph Martin Schlesinger’s Zeitung für Theater und Musik zur Unterhaltung gebildeter, unbefangener Leser and submitted his manuscript on 20 February with an accompanying letter: ‘Sie erhalten, Verehrtester Herr! in der Anlage, den versprochenen Aufsatz über Spontinis Festspiel, der mit vieler Behutsamkeit abgefaßt werden mußte’. (‘Enclosed, dearest Sir, please find the promised contribution on Spontini’s Festspiel, which had to be phrased with the greatest care and sensitivity’.)78 This caution was necessary in every respect: Schlesinger would also be publishing the piano reduction of the Festspiel, as Hoffmann announced in the last paragraph of his review, which, although not an advertisement, was still designed in part to make the score sound attractive to possible buyers. Other, more pressing reasons for a cautious tone were not only the occasion and the performance’s exquisite cast, but also, as we will see, the music itself. Hoffmann began by commending the concept of the entire performance, and praising the idea of illustrating decisive moments in the narrative by means of mimed pictures. One also wonders whether he was not simply relieved that the noblemen and women did not pretend to be real actors. The performance, he added, manifested the finest artistic taste and the most shining splendor, forming the crown on a truly royal festivity, to which the public had been most generously admitted. Most of the review, however, was dedicated to the music. ‘Unser wackerer genialer Meister Spontini’ (‘Our valiant ingenious master Spontini’), he began, at once using the inclusive ‘our’ and emphasizing Spontini’s genius and craftsmanship, ‘mußte die Musik zu dem Festspiel in sehr wenigen Tagen vollenden, welches ihn nötigte, hie und da ältere, hier noch unbekannte, Stücke von seiner Komposition zu benutzen’. (‘had to complete the music to the

77 Briefwechsel, II, p.296. 78 Briefwechsel, II, p.300. The review was published in Zeitung für Theater und Musik zur Unterhaltung gebildeter, unbefangener Leser. Eine Begleiterin des ‘Freimüthigen’, 1: 8 (24 February 1821), 29-30.

358 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Festspiel in just a few days, which forced him here and there to use sections of certain of his older compositions that are still unknown in Berlin’.)79 The opening march in E-flat major was a good example of such a lesser-known piece, and here Hoffmann’s criticism cannot be overlooked, when he carefully formulates in the subjunctive ‘[…] daß, hätte Spontini einen besondern Marsch zu diesem Festspiel gesetzt, er gewiß […] das Gefühl einer herrlichen, aber ganz fremdartigen, Erscheinung in unserer Brust erweckt haben würde’. (‘if Spontini had composed a special march for this Festspiel, he would certainly [...] have evoked the feeling of a splendid, but very exotic apparition in our breast’.)80 Given his high genius, Hoffmann continued, he would doubtless have kept the idea of the whole in mind and introduced the exotic tale with a highly characteristic melody and unique instrumentation. In the initial bars of the overture to Cortez, the master had already proved his art in this respect. The extent to which Hoffmann dwelled on what Spontini could and would have done had he had more time, thus emphasizing the work’s deficiencies, is telling. After this indirect criticism, the review continued by singling out numbers that Hoffmann particularly liked. In this relatively short contribution, he referred to Spontini up to seven times as ‘Meister’, and repeatedly praised him as a ‘genius’. As an example for an ‘ingenious idea of the master’, Hoffmann mentioned an Andante in which three sopranos sing a solemn choral-like melody without words, holding the vowel A, accompanied by strings, which had a stupendous, marvelous effect. He also praised the dances for their characteristic melodies and striking rhythms that characterize all of Spontini’s compositions in this genre as works of a fiery genius. On the whole, Hoffmann concluded, the composition and execution of the Festspiel was a celebration of Spontini’s art and genius by true artists and art connoisseurs who were not biased by narrow-minded, immature envy. Although it is obvious that Hoffmann was not entirely happy with the music, particularly not with the insertion of older pieces, and considered the entire Festspiel charming at best—also evident in his use of the metaphor ‘lieblich blühendes Blümlein’ (‘lovely blooming little flower’) —the jab at the end still comes as a surprise. Hoffmann claims, in effect, that those who do not see or admit Spontini’s qualities are simply envious individuals driven by interests other than purely artistic ones. With his enthusiastic praise, Hoffmann attempts to convince Spontini’s critics that their allegations of inaptitude for the position due to lack of talent or foreign origin were unfounded. The difficulty and, at times, impossibility of being guided solely

79 Schriften zur Musik, p.352. 80 Schriften zur Musik, p.352. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 359 by artistic values must have become increasingly clear to Hoffmann since his arrival in Berlin, as is particularly obvious in the review at hand.

Zufällige Gedanken (Casual Reflections) or Ritter Gluck Revisited

Hoffmann contributed an essay entitled Zufällige Gedanken beim Erscheinen dieser Blätter (Casual Reflections on the Appearance of This Journal) to the newly- established journal Allgemeine Zeitung für Musik und Musikliteratur.81 The essay’s incidental title is highly ironic, since it is here that Hoffmann specifically formulates his credo as a music critic, both reflecting on the goals and tasks of music criticism in general and summarizing many insights from his earlier writings. At the beginning of his essay, he compares critical journalism, and thus the content of the journal at hand, with the birth and growth of a human being: The publisher provides the cradle, the editor places an embryo in it, the godparents (critics) provide the infant with tasty food and drink that should never lack fire or spirit, so that the guests (readers) will not stay away. Hoffmann later transfers this metaphor of a living organism to the work of art itself, which is compared to a beautiful tree, ‘der aus einem kleinen Kern entsprossen, nun die blütenreichen Äste hoch emporstreckt in den blauen Himmel’. (‘which has sprung from a tiny seed and now extends its blossom-laden branches high into the blue sky’.)82 To the uninitiated this tree is a miracle, and here begins the task of the music critic, the composer’s ‘kindred spirit’, who is able,

mittelst eines geheimnisvollen Zaubers es zu bewirken, daß die Leute in die Tiefe der Erde wie durch Kristall schauen, den Kern entdecken und sich überzeugen können, daß eben aus diesem Kern der ganze schöne Baum entsproß. Ja sie werden einsehen, daß Baum, Blatt, Blüte und Frucht so und nicht anders gestaltet und gefärbt sein konnte.

(by means of a mysterious magic, to let the people see into the depths of the earth, as through crystal, so that they discover the seed, and realise that from this very seed the entire tree sprang. Indeed they will see that tree, leaf, blossom, and fruit could take only that form and colour and no other.)83

81 The journal, edited by music teacher Franz Stöpel, ceased publication after the third issue. Hoffmann’s contribution appeared in the second and third issues on 9 and 16 October 1820. 82 Schriften zur Musik, p.344; Charlton, p.426. 83 Schriften zur Musik, p.344; Charlton, p.426.

360 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Music and music criticism are both seen as living organisms, and both use mysterious ‘magic’ to captivate their audience. Reflecting on the appropriate form such criticism of musical works should take, the author continues that he could only value ‘recht in die Tiefe des Werks eindringende und dieselben in ihren tiefsten Motiven entwickelnde Abhandlungen […]’. (‘those essays which really penetrate to the heart of the work and reveal its deepest impulses […]’.)84 The critic should focus on a particular work, and would be most effective if he had the talent to reveal its special features as if looking ‘through crystal’. The goal of such essays should ultimately be to ‘lead people to listen well’. As is the case with composition, however, it is difficult to describe the means for achieving the desired effect in music criticism. But Hoffmann does give some useful hints: Although talking would be far more lively and effective than writing, writing had become the common way to communicate about music. ‘Man sorge aber’ (‘One must ensure, however’), he warned, ‘daß der tote Buchstabe die Kraft an sich trage, lebendig zu werden vor dem Gemüt des Lesers, damit dieses sich ihm auftue!’ (‘that the dead letter carries within it the power of coming to life in the reader’s mind, and making his heart respond to it!’)85 Coming to life in the listener’s imagination, however, does not necessarily mean that criticism should simply adopt a more literary form, as he explains using the negative example of Wilhelm Heinse’s novel Hildegard von Hohenthal (1795-1796). Writings on music without a particular musical work as their focus will not animate the readers’ imagination:

Nichts ist langweiliger, als derlei Abhandlungen, sagst du? – Richtig! zumal in dem Stil, wie sie etwa in der Hildegard von Hohenthal der Held des Romans gibt, der seiner vornehmen Schülerin […] den mathematischen Teil der Musikwissenschaft in solcher Art doziert, daß man nicht begreift, wie sie es aushält mit dem Pedanten!

(Nothing is more boring than articles of that sort, you say? Quite right! Especially in the style in which they are couched in Hildegard von Hohenthal by the hero of the novel; he lectures his aristocratic pupil […] on the mathematical aspects of musical science in such a way that one cannot understand how she could bear such a pedant!)86

Although a music critic should deeply penetrate specific works and clearly convey their unique qualities, dry and pedantic structural analysis should be avoided. Hoffmann’s essay itself tries to come to life by addressing an

84 Schriften zur Musik, p.344; Charlton, p.426. 85 Schriften zur Musik, p.345; Charlton, p.427. 86 Schriften zur Musik, p.345; Charlton, p.427. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 361 imagined composer and thereby creating a dialogue between a critic and a composer. Imagined or concrete conversations were a common feature of Hoffmann’s writings on music, such as in Ritter Gluck (the stranger and the enthusiast), Don Juan (letter addressed to a friend; dialogue with ‘Donna Anna’), Der Dichter und der Komponist (Ludwig and Ferdinand), and the letter on music in Berlin.87 In the case of Zufällige Gedanken, one is immediately reminded of Ritter Gluck, as soon as the ‘dialogue’ begins: ‘Warum dies bittersauere Gesicht, geliebtester Komponist?’ (‘But why this sour expression, my dear composer?’) the critic asked.

‘Schon wieder ein neuer anatomischer Tisch errichtet, auf dem man unsere Werke mit gewaltsam ausgespreizten Gliedern festschrauben und mit rücksichtsloser Grausamkeit zerlegen wird. Ha! – ich sehe schon verdeckte Quintenfolgen, unharmonische Querstände entblößt von dem Fleisch der vollen Harmonie unter dem funkelnden Messer des Prosektors emporzittern!’

(‘Yet another new anatomical slab on which our works will be clamped down with their limbs forcibly stretched out and dissected with ruthless cruelty. Ha! I can already see false relations and hidden consecutive fifths severed from the flesh of their harmonic context and quivering under the glinting knife of the anatomist!’)88

In Ritter Gluck, the stranger had to endure such pedantic reproaches from the enthusiast, who was echoing criticism from the music press, mainly Forkel (see Chapter One). The fact that the ‘dear composer’ addressed in Zufällige Gedanken is in fact an opera composer, is suggested by the narrating critic, who presumes that the former had just finished composing an opera. The critic then reflects, much like Ludwig in Der Dichter und der Komponist, on all the necessary steps involved in opera composition. The composer must have a deep understanding of the poetic idea underlying the whole, and the powerful wings of music must have lifted him to higher regions, so that not even clumsy phrasing in the libretto can hinder his venturous flight. All human emotions appeared transfigured in music’s higher realm. And in the moments of greatest exaltation, the music was conceived and shaped with the help of a self-restraining reason. Indeed, contrary to Romantic assumptions, the intellect’s role could not be overestimated in the process.

87 Theodore Ziolkowski calls the dialogue ‘in many senses the archetypal Romantic genre’ (p.362), a more intimate form of the public ‘Rede’ or university ‘Vorlesung’ (oral lecture). See, in particular, ‘The Jena Mode of Discourse’ and ‘The Gallery Dialogue as Genre’ in Theodore Ziolkowski, German Romanticism and its Institutions (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1990), pp.252-268, 355-372. 88 Schriften zur Musik, p.343; Charlton, p.425.

362 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

The composer, Hoffmann surmises, thus had nothing to fear from the critic and would not find himself stretched out on an anatomic table, but would find himself standing before a kindred spirit, who like a magician would open the eyes (or rather ears) of the listeners to the work’s wonderful design. Hence the necessity for music criticism to focus on individual works. In Ritter Gluck, the specific works in question were three of Gluck’s Parisian reform operas, beginning with the overture to Iphigénie en Aulide. The essay Zufällige Gedanken directly refers to Forkel’s criticism of this overture and to Gluck’s plans for inventing a new instrument for his opera project Die Hermannsschlacht.89 Both contributions thus emphasize a balance between inspiration and reason, which in Ritter Gluck is visualized by the initiation myth of the stranger. The strange composer in this tale also plays the role of a music critic by educating people to listen properly to music. While the enthusiast begins by parroting voices from newspapers, he is exalted in the end when he listens to the stranger’s performance of Armide. At that moment, when the formerly-naïve enthusiast fully understands the music, Gluck himself appears to him in full regalia. The clearest indication that Zufällige Gedanken can be read as an explication of the earlier tale arises in the discussion about the composer’s fear of the newspapers’ ceaseless gossip: ‘Sollt’ es möglich sein, daß irgendeine Zeitschrift, irgendeine künstlerische Zeitung existieren könne, ohne einige Klatscherei?’ (‘Is it possible for any magazine to exist, any artistic journal, without some trivial tittle-tattle?’)90 However, Hoffmann as author/critic assures his audience that there is a form of chatter that, instead of being malicious, can strengthen the bond between the people and the composer: ‘Es ist nun einmal das Erbteil unserer schwachen Natur, daß wir das Werk nicht von der Person des Meisters trennen können, sondern bei jenem auch stets an diese denken, denn sonst würden nicht die Bildnisse beliebter Meister so emsig gesucht und gekauft werden’. (‘It is after all the legacy of our weaker nature that we cannot separate the composer’s work from his person, and that when we think of the one we always think of the other, for otherwise portraits of popular composers would not be so eagerly sought and purchased’.)91 This posited weakness, namely, the inseparable connection people make between the composer’s person and his music, is

89 ‘In den Forkelschen Beiträgen wurde sehr witzigerweise seine Ouvertüre zu der Iphigenia in Tauris mit dem Gelärm der Bauern in der Dorfschenke verglichen’. (‘In Forkel’s Beiträge his overture to Iphigénie en Tauride [recte: en Aulide] was very wittily compared to the noise of peasants in a village inn’.) Schriften zur Musik, p.347; Charlton, p.429. 90 Schriften zur Musik, p.348; Charlton, p.430. 91 Schriften zur Musik, p.348; Charlton, p.430. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 363 exploited in the tale Ritter Gluck, in which the mysterious composer, modelled after Duplessis’s portrait as well as anecdotes about Gluck, opens the eyes and ears of those who read and listen to Gluck’s music. Ritter Gluck thus presents a model of music criticism using all of the tools at the critic’s disposal, such as biography, anecdotes, portraits, concrete works, lively scenes in Berlin, and ‘spoken’ dialogue, all of which focus on animating the listener’s imagination. Michael Walter sees many connections between Zufällige Gedanken and the earlier letter on music in Berlin, and is convinced that Zufällige Gedanken are referring to Spontini and are intended as a defense against challenges of opportunism in Hoffmann’s support of Spontini.92 While writing the essay Zufällige Gedanken, Hoffmann was translating the libretto of Olimpie. Certain remarks might in fact be alluding to this work, such as a reference to the clumsy wording of the libretto that an opera composer sometimes has to overcome.93 More convincing is the reference in one of the examples of gossip about composers: ‘der große X.’ (‘the great X’), the cited reporter reveals ‘setze seltsamerweise die Linie der Bratschen unter die Linie des Fagotts, und trenne so das Quartett’ (‘for some curious reason writes the viola part below the bassoon part, thus breaking up the string section’),94 which was a characteristic of Spontini’s scores, as Walter has pointed out.95 A passage on the tendency of modern composers to employ massive instrumentation and many sudden harmonic changes in order to achieve an overwhelming effect also recalls the letter from Berlin: ‘Wahr ist es, daß manche Partitur jetzt dermaßen schwarz aussieht, daß ein dreister Floh ohne Umstände sich darauf verunreinigen kann, niemand merkt’s. Aber! – Effekt – Effekt!’ (‘We know that the pages of many scores now appear so black that a cheeky flea can relieve itself on them with impunity, since nobody notices it. And why? For effect – effect!’)96 This hunger for the greatest possible effect had been the central theme of Über einen Ausspruch Sachini’s and the letter from Berlin was again clearly addressing the same topic with regard to Spontini. In Zufällige Gedanken, however, Hoffmann portrayed instrumentation in a more positive light as he took up his reasoning on the development of church music from his essay Alte und neue Kirchenmusik (Old

92 Michael Walter, ‘Hoffmann und Spontini. Zum Problem der romantischen Oper’, in E. T. A. Hoffmann et la musique. Actes du colloque international de Clermont-Ferrand, ed. by Alain Montandon (Bern: Lang, 1987), pp.85-119 (pp.88-92). 93 Hoffmann had however criticized many libretti, such as the libretto of Méhul’s Ariodant. 94 Schriften zur Musik, p.348; Charlton, p.430. 95 Walter, ‘Hoffmann und Spontini’, p.89. 96 Schriften zur Musik, p.346; Charlton, p.428.

364 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera and New Church Music, 1814). In this essay, he admiringly described the devout simplicity and dignity of the old Italian masters of church music, such as Palestrina, Antonio Caldara, Alessandro Scarlatti, Benedetto Marcello, and Leonardo Leo, and deplored the mundane and frivolous influences that had driven away all sanctity from true church music and led to its decline. Not all recent developments, however, are interpreted negatively: ‘Es ist nämlich wohl gewiß, daß die Instrumentalmusik sich in neuerer Zeit zu einer Höhe erhoben hat, die die alten Meister nicht ahneten, so wie an technischer Fertigkeit die neuern Musiker die alten offenbar weit übertreffen’. (‘It is quite clear that in recent times instrumental music has risen to heights earlier composers did not dream of, just as in technical facility modern players clearly far surpass those of earlier times’.)97 This richness and brilliance of modern music was a result of the ‘forttreibender Weltgeist’ (‘onward march of progress’) itself, and the problem was not these new means but their misuse: ‘Es ist nur der falsche Gebrauch dieses Reichtums, der ihn schädlich macht’ (‘It is only the wrong use of this opulence that makes it harmful’).98 Similarly, in Zufällige Gedanken, the critic comments on the longing for ‘the good old days’ in his imagined dialogue with the old opera composer, who is encouraging his young followers to go back to the ‘simplicity of the early masters’: ‘fort mit dem Geklingel und Geklapper, vergeßt alle heutige Musik, vergeßt Mozart und Beethoven, und vollends –’ (‘No more of this jangle and clatter, forget all your modern music, forget Mozart and Beethoven, and above all –’).99 Instead of filling in the missing name (the reader is tempted to add ‘Spontini’), the critic reminds the old composer that the greatest masters had always been misunderstood and their music condemned as ‘confused cacophony’. It was therefore not possible to define the moment when true art came to an end, because, as had been proposed in the essay on church music:

Immer weiter fort und fort treibt der waltende Weltgeist; nie kehren die verschwundenen Gestalten, so wie sie sich in der Lust des Körperlebens bewegten, wieder: aber ewig, unvergänglich ist das Wahrhaftige, und eine wunderbare Geistergemeinschaft schlingt ihr geheimnisvolles Band um Vergangenheit, Gegenwart und Zukunft. Noch leben geistig die alten, hohen Meister […].

(The prevailing spirit of the age forever drives us on and on; the vanished figures will never return with the joy that infused their earthly lives; but truth is eternal,

97 Schriften zur Musik, p.230; Charlton, p.372. 98 Schriften zur Musik, p.232; Charlton, p.373. 99 Schriften zur Musik, p.347; Charlton, pp.428-429; In Charlton ‘vollends’ is translated as ‘the sooner the better’, thus overlooking the hint at Spontini. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 365

imperishable, and a wondrous community of spirits spins its mysterious thread around past, present, and future. The great masters live on in spirit.)100

The rejuvenation of the old spirit is taken literally, when in Zufällige Gedanken the critic suddenly notices a change in his imagined interlocutor: ‘Doch indem ich Sie, mein alter Herr, recht anschaue, belieben Sie auf einmal ganz jugendlich auszusehen!’ (‘And yet – now that I come to look at you more closely, Sir, you appear all at once quite youthful!’)101 This literal rejuvenation had been the basis of Hoffmann’s first tale of Ritter Gluck as well, in which the stranger ultimately seemed to be Gluck’s younger revenant, who played his compositions in modernized versions. Far from being a casual, minor work, Zufällige Gedanken thus explain Hoffmann’s views on the music critic’s role in recognizing the true spirit of a composition without being prejudiced by external factors, and conveying his insights to a larger audience in an effective way. The essay can therefore be interpreted as the theoretical counterpart to Hoffmann’s first piece of music criticism, his highly imaginative tale, Ritter Gluck. But it also points to his final contribution, an extensive review of the latest work of a contemporary opera composer who was often accused of producing ‘noise’ rather than music: Spontini’s Olimpie.

Spontini’s Opera Olimpie

Spontini had worked on his three-act tragédie lyrique Olimpie for at least four years before its première took place on 22 December 1819 at the Opéra in Paris. It was not successful, however, and Spontini withdrew it from the stage after only six performances. Apparently, the assassination of Duc de Berry and the subsequent closure of the Académie were used as an excuse.102 The libretto by Joseph Marie Dieulafoy and Charles Brifaut was based on Voltaire’s tragedy Olympie (Schwetzingen, 1762; Paris, 1764). The plot can be summarized as follows: After Alexander the Great was assassinated by one of his generals, Cassander, it was believed that Alexander’s wife Statira and their daughter Olimpie had been killed as well. Statira was only wounded, however, and took refuge as a priestess in the temple of Diana, while Cassander had saved Olimpie. She grew up as a slave (called Aménais) in the same temple, where no one except Cassander knew her true identity.

100 Schriften zur Musik, p.235; Charlton, p.376. 101 Schriften zur Musik, p.347; Charlton, p.429. 102 Libby, p.243.

366 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Alexander’s empire had been split between the two generals Cassander and Antigonus, who after fifteen years decided to meet again for reconciliation. Antigonus, who suspected Aménais’s true identity, asked Cassander for the hand of Aménais as an act of friendship. Cassander refused his request because he intended to marry Aménais himself. The priestess Arzane (Statira), who had been chosen to bless the marriage, refused to do so after hearing the name of her husband’s murderer, Cassander. She revealed her true identity and after recognizing her own daughter in Aménais, the mother informed her daughter about her tragic fate. Antigonus offered Statira his help against Cassander, and asked for the hand of Aménais/Olimpie in return. When Cassander’s troops prevailed, Statira stabbed herself to death. In Voltaire’s tragedy, Olimpie immolated herself on her mother’s funeral pyre. In the opera, Alexander’s ghost appeared, handing her a cup of poison, and at the very end all three were united in a final apotheosis. For the second performance, Spontini changed the ending and Olimpie collapsed and died at the sight of her mother’s corpse, which was followed by the final apotheosis of Alexander, Statira, and Olimpie. The public still disapproved of the tragic ending and Spontini decided to rework the opera to give it a happy ending instead. He finished his revision of Act I and part of Act III before coming to Berlin at the end of May. In Berlin, Brühl immediately sent the revised first act to Carl Alexander Herklots, who had previously translated La Vestale. As soon as Hoffmann confirmed his willingness to translate the libretto, Brühl had to return the score and text to Spontini, who passed them on to Hoffmann on 9 June with many compliments: ‘[…] je me rejouis infiniment du sort de voir votre grand nom associé avec le mien, et votre immense talent venir à l’aide de mes efforts’. (‘[...] I am infinitely delighted to see your great name associated with my own and your tremendous talent come to the aid of my efforts’.)103

Hoffmann’s Translation of Olimpie

Hoffmann’s translation of the libretto and reflections on the translating process offer important insights into both his views on Spontini’s s opera and his ideas about the relationship between text and music in opera more generally. His translation work, moreover, also prompted him to write an extensive review of Spontini’s latest opera.

103 Friedrich Schnapp, ‘E. T. A. Hoffmanns Textbearbeitung der Oper “Olimpia” von Spontini’, Jahrbuch des Wiener Goethe Vereins, 66 (1962), 126-143 (p.130). Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 367

On 28 June Hoffmann reported to Brühl that the translation of the first act was almost complete. Upon Brühl’s inquiry of 20 September about the translation’s progress, Hoffmann immediately replied with the assurance that he had translated up to the second act finale, and that he could complete the work in the following week, upon receiving the score of the third act. At the end of November, Brühl called for a conference with Spontini, Hoffmann, and Schinkel to discuss the new scene that Spontini intended to add in the third act. In this revised version of the opera, the true murderer of Alexander was in fact Antigonus, who did not confess until the very end when he was fatally wounded. Statira could now bless the marriage between Olimpie and Cassander, who turned out to be innocent, thus bringing about a happy ending. One of the new episodes that Spontini wanted to include was Antigonus’s death scene, and he sent a French prose version of it to Hoffmann, along with a description of his intentions. Hoffmann’s translation into German verse then formed the basis for Spontini’s newly-composed scenes.104 It was not until 19 January 1821 that Hoffmann could send his completed translation to Brühl: ‘Endlich, nachdem mir Spontini die Partitur des dritten Akts brockenweise und das lezte Stück davon erst in dieser Woche zukommen lassen bin ich im Stande Ew. HochGebohren die vollständige Uebersetzung der Oper Olimpia in der Anlage ganz ergebenst zu überreichen’. (‘At last, after Spontini gave me the score for the third act piece-meal and the last bit only this week, I am able to submit to you the complete translation of the opera Olympia’.)105 The blame for the delay was thus placed on Spontini, and Hoffmann’s irritation is clearly discernable. On the other hand, Hoffmann also admitted that the translation had not come easily either, as he explained the priorities of his translation practice:

Es war in der That eine mühseelige etwas trostlose Arbeit indessen rechne ich es mir zum Verdienst an, daß keine einzige Note in der Partitur verändert, die musikalischen Accente und Rythmen auf das strengste beobachtet, ja sogar meistentheils die Assonanzen des Originals beibehalten oder durch noch volltönendere ersezt worden sind.

(It was indeed onerous and somewhat tedious work, but I take credit for the fact that not a single note in the score was changed, that the musical accents and rhythms were most strictly observed, yes, even most of the assonances of the original were preserved or replaced by still more sonorous ones.)106

104 Spontini’s prose version and Hoffmann’s verses are printed in Schnapp, ‘E. T. A. Hoffmanns Textbearbeitung’, pp.136-139. 105 Briefwechsel, II, p.294; Selected Letters, p.306. 106 Briefwechsel, II, p.294; Selected Letters, p.306.

368 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

In his letter to Brühl, Hoffmann was rather diplomatic about this ‘somewhat tedious’ task, as compared to what he had written to his friend Hippel about translating the libretto: ‘Eine ganz verfluchte Arbeit, da im Französischen alle Rhythmen dem Deutschen entgegengesezt sind, und ich mir in den Kopf gesezt habe, auch in den Rezitativen nicht ein Nötchen zu ändern und die französischen Schlagwörter durch deutsche volltönende Kraftwörter todt zu schlagen’. (‘A completely devilish task, since in French all the rhythms are contrary to the German, and I have got it into my head not to change a single note, even in the recitative, and to annihilate the French cliches [Schlagwörter] with sonorous German words of powerful expression [Kraftwörter]’.)107 While Spontini’s score was sacred and not to be changed even in minor details, Hoffmann did not hesitate to ‘improve’ upon the French text for musical reasons, despite his respect for aspects of musical importance, such as accents, rhythms, and assonances. In his review of Spontini’s Olimpia (to be discussed in detail below) Hoffmann reflected more specifically on the difficulty of translating a libretto and what he had adopted as his guiding principles in doing so. In order to provide a satisfying translation, he explained, the translator needed to study the score thoroughly and acquaint himself with the composition in detail. Exact knowledge of the score was necessary because the choice of words should be based not only on aspects of melody, rhythm, and correct accentuation, but also on instrumental motives prevalent in the entire composition.108 A poetic word, for example, that might seem preferable often had to be rejected because its sound would disappear in the interplay between the singers and the orchestra. Regarding the recitatives, it would be easiest to change the confused French meters, so typical of such texts, into regular German verses. However, this would also require a complete change of the rhythms in the music and obscure the composition’s original character. Hoffmann thus required the same faithfulness to a musical composition from a translator that he had demanded from performers in his reviews of performances of Don Juan and Ariodant. A translator, however, who treated the composition ‘als ein unverletzliches Heiligtum, an dem durchaus nichts gemodelt, nichts geändert werden darf’ (‘as a sacrosanct entity, in which nothing whatsoever may be reshaped or altered’),109 and who furthermore would strictly adhere to the composer’s intentions regarding the music’s effect, could easily be accused of cobbling together clumsy verses and

107 Letter of 24 June 1820, Briefwechsel, II, p.264; Libby, p.267. 108 Schriften zur Musik, p.354. 109 Schriften zur Musik, p.355; Charlton, p.433. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 369 choosing strange words. Hoffmann’s point here is that, apart from excusing some oddities in his translation, in the case of a libretto of an existing composition, the translation should primarily provide an interpretation of the composer’s intentions. Not the words themselves, but the ideas and associations that the music evokes should guide the translator’s choices. In his tale Don Juan, Hoffmann had expressed a similar attitude towards the text of an opera. This was in fact an entirely different concept from the ordinary practice of translating libretti of foreign works. Hoffmann, in contrast, completely immersed himself in the work and studied every aspect of its ‘wonderful structure’. Thus, his translation efforts led him to discover Olimpie’s ‘vigour and exuberant energy’ and he felt compelled to add a few words to what had already been said about Spontini’s latest opera. These ‘few words’ would be the most extensive review of Hoffmann’s entire career as a music critic, entitled Nachträgliche Bemerkungen über Spontinis Oper Olympia (Further Observations on Spontini’s Opera Olimpia). In the review, Hoffmann asserted that, along with La Vestale and Cortez [!], Olimpie could undoubtedly claim and maintain a worthy place ‘unter den ersten Tondichtungen, die jemals geschaffen’ (‘among the first music-dramas ever created’).110

Hoffmann’s Last Review: Nachträgliche Bemerkungen über Spontinis Oper Olympia (Further Observations on Spontini’s Opera Olimpia)111

Part I: Historical Perspective

With Ernst Ludwig Gerber’s Historisch-biographisches Lexikon der Tonkünstler (2 vols, 1790-92) in hand, Hoffmann began by sketching out a history of opera, thus providing the historical context in which to place Spontini and his latest work. Beginning with French opera as established by Lully, he considered its ‘empty, monotonous singsong’ incomprehensible to our modern ears. Rameau’s music still followed the same principles, although his harmony was much richer and some motifs were more related to the dramatic action. As in his Zufällige Gedanken, Hoffmann pointed to the historical development of taste, since for his contemporaries, Rameau’s

110 Schriften zur Musik, p.355; Charlton, p.434. 111 The review was published in thirteen installments from June through September 1821 in Zeitung für Theater und Musik zur Unterhaltung gebildeter, unbefangener Leser, 1: 23- 26 (9, 16, 23 & 30 June 1821), 1: 28-31 (14, 21 & 28 July, 4 August), 1: 33-36 (18 & 25 August, 1 & 8 September) and 1: 38 (22 September). Reprinted in Schriften zur Musik, pp.354-395.

370 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera music had been considered ‘excessively rich’. In spite of the weak dramatic elements of their compositions, Lully and Rameau were still worthy of study due to their absolutely correct declamation, ‘nicht allein nach dem Wert der Silben, sondern auch nach der Abstufung der Intervalle’. (‘not only according to the value of syllables but also according to the gradation of intervals’.)112 It was Gluck, ‘the mighty reformer of dramatic music’, who like a giant overthrew the old form of opera so long cultivated by Lully and Rameau. Not words, but ideas inspired Gluck’s music, which featured true melody rather than a series of notes based on words. Without sacrificing the basis of correct declamation, Gluck’s melodies brought the underlying ideas to life.113 In order to achieve the greatest dramatic impact, Gluck brought to bear ‘alle Kraft der Harmonie, der Instrumentierung, alle Mittel, wie sie dem Meister nur damals zu Gebote standen’. (‘all the possibilities of harmony and orchestration, all the resources available to composers at that time’.)114 Once more, Hoffmann places music in historical perspective, asserting that Gluck made full use of the elements that were available to him during his lifetime and even attempted to go further by introducing unusual instruments in the orchestra. In fact, he envisioned the introduction of an entirely new instrument for his opera project Die Hermannsschlacht. As a result, his supporters praised Gluck to the skies, while others harshly condemned his music. In Germany, no other composer was more widely denounced than Gluck. Hoffmann here recalled Forkel’s judgment on the overture to Iphigénie en Aulide (see Chapter One), while also citing ‘the old composer’s’ (Handel’s) humorous statement that Gluck knew as much about counterpoint as his cook. The review then takes the reader to Italy, ‘the cradle, the nursery of music’ with regard to singing, and Hoffmann reminds us that the greatest German masters, such as Gluck, Handel, and Hasse, went on pilgrimage there to fathom the magic of Italian vocal music. In his view, Gluck’s profound and serious German spirit, however, prevented him from sacrificing any dramatic moment or situation to the lure of beautiful singing. To admirers of this aspect of Italian music, Gluck’s compositions sounded dry and unmelodious. Hoffmann also alluded to the fierce battle between the Gluckists and the Piccinnists (see Chapter One), a battle he considered foolish since both composers were equally great and venerated, and had merely chosen to follow different directions. He nevertheless did not hide his preference: Gluck, although moving back to Vienna bowed with age,

112 Schriften zur Musik, p.357; Charlton, p.436. 113 Schriften zur Musik, p.358. 114 Schriften zur Musik, p.358; Charlton, p.436. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 371

stand fest, lebte – steht noch fest, lebt noch in der Unsterblichkeit seiner Werke. […] Mochte Piccinni ihn in der Anmut, in dem Reiz des Gesanges übertreffen, so war es dagegen die Tiefe der Gedanken, die das Innerste erschütternde Gewalt des Ausdrucks, die den großen Gluck als siegenden Heros der wahrhaftigen Kunst erscheinen ließ.

(stood firm, lived on, and still stands firm and lives on through the immortality of his works. […] Though Piccinni might surpass him in the grace and charm of his vocal style, it was in profundity of thought and soul-stirring power of expression that the great Gluck emerged as the conquering hero of true art.)115

Time had moved on since Gluck’s innovations, however, as Hoffmann pointed out, and a later master would combine ‘den hinreißendsten zauberischen Gesang der Italiener mit dem kräftigen Ausdruck der Deutschen, mit dem Reichtum, den die Instrumentalmusik sich indessen erworben’. (‘the most ravishing and enchanting vocal style of the Italians with the deep expressiveness of the Germans, together with the richness meanwhile gained by instrumental music’.) It was Mozart, the ‘Shakespeare of music’, who broke new ground and became the ‘unnachahmliche Schöpfer der romantischen Oper’ (‘incomparable creator of romantic opera’).116 In the beginning, Hoffmann observed, Mozart’s works did not meet with much enthusiasm, not even in Germany, where people deeply appreciated true works of art. In Vienna, for example, Don Giovanni failed at its first performance. Abroad, the opera did not fare much better for in Milan, the score was put aside as being totally unperformable after nine rehearsals.117 Even most recently, those who saw their model in Gluck criticized Mozart’s works. Hoffmann himself considered both masters completely incomparable due to their differences in style and historical background. It is not until the fourth installment that the review finally reaches Hoffmann’s own era. The fact that Hoffmann had dwelled for so long on the historical developments of opera, and in particular on the achievements of Gluck and Mozart, reveals his intention of portraying Spontini as their new heir, following in their footsteps. First, Hoffmann deplores the loss of the common framework on which earlier composers had laid the

115 Schriften zur Musik, pp.362-363; Charlton, p.440. 116 Schriften zur Musik, p.363; Charlton, p.440. 117 Hoffmann actually means Florence, and is most likely referring to Niemtschek’s Mozart biography (Prague, 1798). Franz Niemtschek, Leben des Kapellmeisters Wolfgang Gottlieb Mozart. Almanach auf das Jahr 1942 (Leipzig: Staackmann, 19[41], nach der Erstausgabe des Jahres 1798), p.84.

372 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera foundation of their dramas. Italian music had, for him, especially lost artistic sophistication and he accuses the latest Italian star, Rossini, of turning the principles of opera upside-down; while ignoring situation, character, and other aspects of the drama, as well as rhythm or declamation of the text, Rossini strung the notes together to form ‘Floskeln, [...] welche das Ohr kitzeln’ (‘flourishes that titillate the ear’), as demanded by fashion or a famous singer.118 Rossini and many of his Italian colleagues undermined the flowing melody so crucial for the old Italian masters, by writing ‘fratzenhafte Sprünge und Rouladen’ (‘grotesque leaps and roulades’), and ‘widerwärtige[s] Getriller’ (‘odious trills’).119 Although the third act of Otello (Naples, 1816) seemed to offer a real sense of drama, this ultimately did not speak in Rossini’s favor either but rather made matters worse, as its atypically-high quality revealed a talent that the composer was deliberately squandering just to please popular taste. Hoffmann was puzzled as to how this ‘degenerate taste’ could find so many supporters in Germany, where truth and seriousness used to be valued in art, and he saw an explanation for it in the fact that everyone, talented or otherwise, engaged in musical activities in some way or other and considered themselves qualified to judge works of great art. Rossini’s ‘sweet lemonade’ was obviously much more to the taste of such music lovers than the ‘powerful wine’ of the great dramatic composers.120

In the fifth installment, Hoffmann at last turns to the composer under review and points out that Spontini, like Gluck and Mozart before him, had already composed a series of operas before he suddenly surprised the world with a masterpiece

das in voller Kraft und Wahrheit, glanzvoll gerüstet, wie Minerva dem Haupte Jupiters entsprang, ins Leben tritt […] Und mit diesem Werk beginnt ein Zyklus von Schöpfungen, die ihrem Charakter, ihrer Haltung nach einem andern Meister anzugehören scheinen, und nicht im Einzelnen, sondern im Universellen begründet, den Schöpfer einbürgern in die Welt.

(that springs upon the world in shining array, like Minerva from the head of Jupiter, a work of full maturity and truth […]. And with this work begins a cycle of creations that by virtue of their character and their demeanour seem to belong to a different composer, and by virtue of their universal rather than individual appeal establish their creator in the world.)121

118 Schriften zur Musik, p.364; Charlton, p.441. 119 Schriften zur Musik, p.365; Charlton, p.441. 120 Schriften zur Musik, pp.365-366. 121 Schriften zur Musik, p.367; Charlton, p.443. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 373

The masterpiece he is referring to is La Vestale, as is specified in one of the following paragraphs, and the ‘cycle’ it introduced further consisted of Cortez and Olimpie.122 By emphasizing the universal character of Spontini’s music, Hoffmann once more expresses his preference for a cosmopolitan form of opera that would find a home wherever true opera was appreciated. His comparison between a composer’s development in creating genuine opera and a living organism is reminiscent of Zufällige Gedanken, especially since it again uses the metaphor of a tree: A genius is born, and out of this seed spring the leaves, blossoms, and fruit. Continued study alone would not suffice, since it merely formed the ‘life-giving rain’ nourishing the seed to better germinate and grow. Hoffmann characterizes Spontini as one such genius, whose works aim at the fullest dramatic expression, with the resources all stemming from his inner vision. Beneficial influences came from the great old masters of his home country, but most of all from the works of Gluck and Mozart. Quite obviously, Hoffmann here is countering accusations about Spontini’s music as being mere noise and lacking melody and dramatic truth. He moreover appears to be suggesting that Spontini was fully equipped, by nature as well as by his studies, to take on the challenges at the Berlin opera. This is also where his following argument leads: Berlin would offer the most favorable environment for the continuation of the cycle of works Spontini had begun in Paris. Although he was a genius creating from his inner vision, the composer was still a human being who could not escape influences from his environment: ‘[…] so wirkt auf ihn ein die Außenwelt, die ihn umgibt, und er huldigt, ohne es zu wollen, bei der ausgesprochensten Originalität doch hin und wieder der Gestaltung, die die Zeit gerade herbeigeführt’. (‘the external world surrounding him will act upon him, and without intending to he will from time to time, however extreme his originality, pay homage to the conventions prevailing at the time’.)123 In the case of Spontini, Hoffmann explained, two major influences helped shape his music. He could not deny the Italian in him, which regarding the melodious vocal line greatly benefited his compositions, giving them special charm, grace, and cheerfulness. Due to the Italian influence, however, his arias, duets, etc. were rather expansive in their layout. The

122 Anno Mungen believes that the masterpiece that Hoffmann is referring to is Olimpie, and that the cycle it introduced are the works still to be written for Berlin. Hoffmann thus suddenly ignored La Vestale and Cortez (as products of the Napoleonic age) to emphasize the importance of Berlin for the future course of opera. (Mungen, Musiktheater als Historienbild, p.8). This interpretation, however, contradicts the passages in the review in which La Vestale is explicitly praised as Spontini’s first great work. Schriften zur Musik, pp.355, 368, 370. 123 Schriften zur Musik, p.369; Charlton, p.444.

374 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera composer had furthermore been exposed to the taste of the Parisian audience, which resulted in a very peculiar form of joyfulness, a gaieté française, which for Germans was both incomprehensible and inimitable. French audiences, Hoffmann continued, more than German ones, are probably rather pleased ‘mit dem Gewaltsamen, als mit dem Gewaltigen, mehr mit dem plötzlichen Dreinschlagen des Donners in die tiefste Stille, als mit der Steigerung zum Höchsten [...]’. (‘by violence than by power, more by thunder suddenly bursting upon a profound silence than by a crescendo pushed to the limit’.)124 This profound difference between French and German opera aesthetics had been the main point of his essay Über einen Ausspruch Sachini’s, but rather than condemning the French tradition outright, Hoffmann now more diplomatically tried to describe the difference as a matter of taste. Consequently, he wondered whether Spontini’s first great tragic opera would have turned out differently had the composer been living in Vienna or Berlin, where operas by Gluck and Mozart were being performed most frequently. Setting aside all speculation, he comes to the point of his argument:

Spontini ist jetzt in Deutschland, ist jetzt hier in Berlin, erst begonnen hat er den Zyklus seiner klassischen Werke, und nicht die Hoffnung, nein! die gewisse Erwartung können wir aus dem Wesen der drei Meisterwerke, die den Reihen eröffnet, schöpfen, daß er für uns Opern komponieren wird, die zugleich der unsichtbaren Kirche angehören werden, deren Glieder, von dem himmlischen Feuer der Kunst durchglüht, nichts wollen, als das Wahrhaftige in der reinsten Integrität.

(Spontini is now in Germany, is now here in Berlin, and is just beginning his cycle of classical works; from the three masterpieces that have opened the series, we can draw not merely the hope but the confident expectation that he will compose operas for us that will also belong to that invisible church whose members are transfused by the celestial fire of art and desire nothing but the purest integrity and truth.)125

Hoffmann thus added Spontini to the canon of the great masters of tragic opera. As he had in all previous reviews, he emphatically declared Berlin to be Spontini’s home, and the composer to be a Berliner. At the same time, he revealed his membership of the ‘invisible church’, whose members could be found anywhere and anytime, since true art was not bound to borders or time (see Chapter Three). After Italy, Paris, and Vienna, Hoffmann

124 Schriften zur Musik, p.369; Charlton, p.444. 125 Schriften zur Musik, p.370; Charlton, p.445. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 375 envisioned Berlin, and in a broader sense Northern Germany, to become the next center of cosmopolitan opera, a place where true art was fostered and that attracted talent from all over the world. Spontini’s compositions were evidence of his genius, and of how the composer had rejuvenated the spirit of the great old masters of opera by taking historical development in the arts into account. Only an overly-strict critic, Hoffmann maintained, might frown upon some overly-expansive Italianate arias or duets and too- bouncy rhythms. The voice of this ‘strict critic’, which was in fact Hoffmann’s own, would, however, be heard thoughout the discussion of Spontini’s latest opera.

Part II: A Guided Tour through the Score

The discussion of Olimpia (Hoffmann refers to the German version) begins in the sixth installment with a recommendation that the listener first attend just one act per evening, since it would be impossible to grasp and understand the ‘colossal’ work in its entirety all at once. The ‘strict critic’ is already at hand right from the start. Although the theme and instrumentation of the Andante espressivo following the impressive opening chords are described as highly effective, the critic considers the two main themes of the Allegro too light for the genre of tragic opera. He highly recommends the opening chorus, on the other hand, and even lauds it as one of the best choruses of the entire work. A brief exposé on the differing practices of choral writing in the German style as compared to French and Italian practice, with Spontini exemplifying the latter, immediately follows this praise. Although written for five voices (S1, S2, A, T, B), these choruses are usually only in four or even three parts, due to voice doubling. The German great masters of choral writing, however, such as Handel, Bach, and Fasch, avoided such doublings and kept their compositions strictly polyphonic. In case of serious tragic opera, the reviewer recommends the German tradition, since parallel movement of voices could easily sound too weak or sweet. This digression thus adds a critical counterpoint to the choral parts of Spontini’s opera, even though Hoffmann often finds words of praise for them. Hoffmann takes the listener through the score step by step, commending what he considers praiseworthy, such as the graceful melody of the duet between Antigonus and Cassander, which betrays the master’s southern homeland, and Cassander’s highly dramatic aria, in which he is plagued by qualms about Alexander’s death. On the other hand, without further explanation, the ‘strict critic’ disapproves of the duet between Cassander and Olimpia. The subsequent soft and solemn Marche religieuse et chœur

376 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera receives high praise, as does the opening theme of the trio (Olimpia, Cassander, and the high priest Hierophant), which had already appeared in the overture’s Andante espressivo. Hoffmann considers the entire trio ‘so wunderbar und so rein dramatisch gedacht und ausgeführt’ (‘so wonderful and so purely dramatic in its concept and realization’) that he recommends it for careful study by all prospective opera composers.126 He especially admires the noble and moving melody and excellent part writing. Olimpia and Cassander sing in imitation, while the Hierophant’s bass forms the foundation, all praising the gods for creating them, and asking them to unite the newly-married couple. A wrathful Antigonus interrupts the soft and tender trio with accusations of treason. The chorus of his soldiers sustains a sharp contrast to the chorus of the priests. Despite these opposing characters, the music never falls apart. Towards the end, though, when the priests begin to prepare the festivities, Hoffmann criticizes the chorus’s ‘gaieté’, which diminishes the effectiveness of Antigonus’s calls for revenge. The opera’s ballet music reminds him of the recently-deceased German master Johann Friedrich Reichardt, who had written exemplary pieces in the genre. The following exuberant, noisy, and jubilant Bacchanal, which employs the full orchestra, with the instruments all agitatedly playing sixteenth notes and thirtysecond notes, was not to Hoffmann’s taste. At the beginning of the review, Hoffmann had already emphasized his careful study of the full score, and now once more referring to his familiarity with the music, he admitted that in his view, only after the Bacchanal, with the beginning of the Finale, did the opera gain the full powerful momentum that was characteristic of tragic opera. The Hierophant announces Statira’s appearance, and the softly singing choir, accompanied only by strings, awakens expectations of the extraordinary. Upon hearing this chorus, Hoffmann felt ‘[…] als verschwänden plötzlich blendend funkelnde Lichter, und er vermöge nun erst in das Heiligtum der Kunst zu schauen, wie in einen dunkeln Hain, voll die Brust erweiternder Sehnsucht, voll herrlicher ahnender Träume!’ (‘as if dazzling sparkling lights suddenly disappeared, and he could only now see into the sanctuary of art, as if into a dark grove, full of ever increasing longing, full of magnificent foreboding dreams!’)127 Statira’s recitative itself, so admired by Hoffmann, in fact illustrates how he interpreted the music while translating the French libretto. He

126 Schriften zur Musik, p.376; Charlton provides no translation of the review’s analytical part. 127 Schriften zur Musik, p.378. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 377 emphasized that ‘the simplest melody imaginable’ suffices to express Statira’s deepest, heart-breaking grief:128

Musical Example 16: Olimpia, Act I, No. 12 (No. 11), Finale, mm. 28-34.

128 The journal did not allow the insertion of musical examples, to Hoffmann’s dismay. To illustrate his descriptions, the passages of the score that Hoffmann most admired are included here. In the piano reduction prepared by Spontini (Schlesinger, 1823), the Act I finale is No. 12. The numbering of the French piano edition (Brandus & Dufour, 1861) and the French full score (Garland, 1980) is given in parentheses. 378 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

The compass of the melody in the first two measures (Musical Example 16, mm. 28-29), as he pointed out, is ‘only’ a third, and ‘in the fourth [bar] only falling to a seventh’. Hoffmann also called attention to the chromatic line in the violins and the spare accompaniment of horns and bassoons. In his translation of the text, he exchanged the first and third lines, beginning with ‘wer wagt es mich zu wecken’ (‘who dares to wake me up’), while the French first line speaks of ‘douleur profonde’ (‘eternal grief’). The reason for this liberty in translation is musical, as the second and third line show, where Hoffmann’s translation tries to ‘describe’ the music more precisely: ‘aus ewig schwarzer Nacht’ (‘from everlasting black night’) literally ‘darkens’ the ‘l’éternelle nuit’ (‘everlasting night’) and ‘in die ich sank hinab’ (‘into which I sank down’) also intensifies the pain of her downfall. The next line ‘wer entreißt mich dem düst’ren Grab?’ (‘who tears me out of the dark grave’, mm. 33-34) does not translate the French but rather illustrates the melody: The falling motive of mm. 33-34 (D – B-flat – G – E) repeats mm. 30-31, so that ‘dem düst’ren Grab’ parallels the ‘ewig schwarzer Nacht’, illustrating the falling motif better than the original French text had.129 As Hoffmann had explained in the introduction to his review, musical aspects are decisive for his translation. In this scene, Hoffmann furthermore emphasized the moment at which the Hierophant spoke the name of Cassander, which evoked an outburst of horror and wrath by Statira:

129 The following lines illustrate the same tendency of Hoffmann’s translation: Whereas the French text reads, ‘Hélas! j’ai vu, pour moi, s’anéantir le monde’ (‘Alas! Since the world has ceased to exist for me’) Hoffmann translates ‘Weh mir! Ha, mich umgab grau’nvoller Todesschrecken’ (‘Oh woe! A horrible terror of death surrounded me’), and ‘ces tristes lieux’ (‘these sad places’) reads ‘Schauer ergreift mich hier!’ (‘I am seized by shivers here’). The much darker and more powerful expression of Hoffmann’s translations brings to mind the ‘Kraftwörter’ he intended to use for the German version, as he had mentioned in his letter to Hippel. Hoffmann’s preference for highly emotional, brief, and expressive phrases is most evident from the scene in Act III, which he did not translate but composed himself and which begins as follows: Olimpia: Ihr Götter! Welch schreckhaft wildes Toben! (Merciful gods! What a horrendous noise!) Chor: Weh uns! (Oh misery!) Weh uns! Weh uns! Weh! Wildes Toben, Rachewut! Todeskampf! (Rage of vengeance! Mortal agony!) Ha! Verderben! (Doom and destruction!) Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 379 380 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 381

Musical Example 17: Olimpia, Act I, No. 12 (No. 11), Finale, mm. 58-91.

Horrified by Statira’s sudden despair, and still unaware of the reason for it, the choir comes in, now accompanied by full orchestra, which Hoffmann sees as being justified by the dramatic moment (Musical Example 17, mm 64-73). The consecutive dissonant chords might not please the followers of strict theoretical rules, he presumes, but in this case a higher rule should prevail: that of dramatic effect. This observation had also been at the core of Hoffmann’s first AMZ contribution Ritter Gluck, in which Gluck was defended against advocates of ‘strict theoretical rules’ by pointing to the unsurpassed dramatic effect of Gluck’s music. According to Hoffmann, the terrible moment when Statira recognizes her husband’s murderer, and the horror expressed by the choir when witnessing Statira’s rage, could not have been composed in a more stirring manner than Spontini had done here. The passage following this chorus, in which Statira wonders why it was she who had been chosen to bless the wedding of her husband’s murderer, could, with regard to true dramatic expression, ‘dem Besten zur Seite zu stellen sein, was Gluck jemals in dieser Art komponiert hat’. (‘be compared to the best Gluck had ever composed in this form’.)130 Spontini heightens the dramatic effect by means of the continuous tremolo in the violins, and the repeated dissonant figure of the bass, reinforced by oboes, clarinets, horns, bassoons, trombones, and violas (mm. 75, 78, 81, 84). Those measures, in which Statira informs the people about Cassander’s crime and particularly those expressing the perplexed reaction of the crowd upon hearing his terrible deed, impressed Hoffmann so much that he again regretted that the journal did not permit him to include score samples that would illustrate his points. He finds Statira’s recitative wonderful and original. Her melodic line climbs steadily to high G (G''), towards the terrible revelation ‘L’assassin de son roi’ (Musical Example 18, mm. 126-135):

130 Schriften zur Musik, p.380. 382 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 383

Musical Example 18: Olimpia, Act I, No. 12 (No. 11), Finale, mm. 126-152.

The orchestral motif at the beginning repeats the same one that accompanied Statira’s outcry ‘Cassander’ earlier on (see Musical Example 17, mm. 59, 62), thereby linking these passages. In the last measure, the orchestra falls silent, hightening the effect of her words (E minor) through absolute silence (Musical Example 18, m. 135). Subsequently, orchestra and chorus react in full force in B major to express their horror about the crime. This does not last long, however, for the news is so devastating that the outburst soon dies away (morendo) to pianissimo whispers of horror. Hoffmann calls attention to the descending voice line (all sing in unisono) from B' to C (mm. 136-149), which is then held pianissimo for four measures, and the ‘beautiful’ deceptive cadence (inganno) from a B seventh chord (m. 148) to this final C, evoking deep horror in the listener. The ‘artistic’ and ‘well-calculated’ instrumentation further enhances the effectiveness of this choral passage. Violins and bass play tremolo (thirtysecond and sixteenth 384 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera notes), while oboes, clarinets, horns, and trombones hold the main chords. The sixteenth note motif in viola and violoncello, however, especially invigorates the expression of dread and eeriness. The ultimate C in the end is reinforced by the horns in the lowest octave, while violin and viola play C in sixteenth notes and a pianissimo drum roll completes the sound picture (mm. 149-152). All other instruments are silent. Hoffmann considers this passage to be ‘one of the most exquisite of the whole opera’ since its development and the means used by the composer to realize his idea attest ‘nicht allein für seine Genialität, sondern auch für die Besonnenheit [...], mit der er das Reich der Töne beherrscht’. (‘both to his genius as well as his rational awareness, with which he controls the realm of sounds’.)131 All forces unite to bring the Finale to a thunderous end. To preempt any possible critics, Hoffmann observed that although he had noticed a slight similarity between the end of the Finale and the Act I Finale of Don Giovanni, this was far from being a true reminiscence. From the appearance of Statira until the end of Act I, all was in one piece, with the drama unfolding from one moment to the next.

Despite the enthusiastic tone of the review of this first act, one cannot help noting that not all aspects of the opera were to Hoffmann’s liking. What attracted him most were clearly the recitatives, choruses, and passages that are executed softly and with spare orchestral accompaniment. He only singled out for praise parts in fortissimo, employing the full orchestra, if the dramatic moment legitimized full force, such as Statira’s recognition of Alexander’s murderer. The numbers he appreciated less he only mentioned in passing, thereby often evoking the ‘strict critic’, as was the case with the overture and the duet between Cassander and Olimpia. The fact that Hoffmann granted the opera genuine tragic impact only with the beginning of the Act I Finale weakens the praise given to previous parts as well. In discussing the second act, Hoffmann’s review adopts an almost apologetic tone while emphasizing the simplicity and soberness of Spontini’s setting. Hoffmann commends the second act’s effective orchestral introduction, the chorus of the priests, and the artful modulation finally leading to the full choir, whose structure he compliments as being ‘the simplest possible’. Fluent melody and effective part-writing all contribute to ‘the genuinely grand and dignified style of tragic opera’. Hoffmann’s emphasis on Spontini’s economical use of musical motives and instrumentation is clearly seen in his description of Statira’s following recitative, in which she laments her fate: The melody moves ‘only’ within

131 Schriften zur Musik, p.382. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 385 the range of a sixth, and is ‘only’ accompanied by violin, viola, and bass. ‘Still’, the singing pierces the heart and evokes the deepest compassion. ‘Even’ the words ‘als ich ihn sah, der schuf mein grenzenloses Elend’ (‘A l’aspect de l’auteur de toute ma misère’/‘at the sight of the author of all my misery’), are accompanied ‘only’ by a more intense figure in the strings, while the wind instruments stay silent, with the exception ‘only’ of three pianissimo horn calls at the recurrence of the first melodic phrase. Upon hearing the name of ‘Cassander’, Statira’s increasing agitation, the revelation of her true identity, and Cassander’s terrible deed, are interrupted ‘only’ by one recurring orchestral figure.132 Hoffmann’s frequent use of the word ‘only’ (‘nur’) not only amplifies his apologetic tone but also suggests that Spontini’s music tends to be more tumultuous elsewhere. Hoffmann was especially impressed by the part of the recitative (Larghetto sostenuto), in which Statira believes that all is lost and abandons all hope: Her rising chromatic voice line, the tremolos in second violin and bass, and the lamenting figure in first violin and oboe depict this musically. He calls Statira’s subsequent aria, in which she rages against the betrayal of the gods, a masterpiece of dramatic expression. Again, certain critics might have observed a certain similarity to Donna Anna’s first aria in Don Giovanni towards the end. However, Hoffmann assured his readers that this similarity should not be confused with a true reminiscence, but was due to the two examples’ common key and harmonic structure. The fact that Spontini showed restraint in his instrumentation (he uses the timpani only in thirteen of the hundred-twelve-measure aria, and the trombones in twenty-six) receives Hoffmann’s special praise. It becomes increasingly clear that Hoffmann chose to focus on what he considered positive aspects while remaining silent about elements and passages he disliked. In her subsequent recitative, Statira realizes that she has just insulted the gods with her merciless call for revenge, while the chorus of the priests tries to console her. Hoffmann highlights the remarkable dramatic effect of these twenty-six measures, achieved by a masterful interplay of two distinct melodies and by effective instrumentation and modulations (D minor, C minor, B-flat minor, A-flat major). Statira’s aria (F minor) again shows Spontini’s spare and effective use of wind instruments (oboes, clarinets, horns, bassoons). The recitative preceding the duet between Olimpia and Statira contains, according to Hoffmann, one of the most splendid dramatic passages of the entire opera. Statira has just learned that Cassander had spared the life of the slave Aménais (Olimpia) fifteen years ago in Babylon, and at this moment, Statira realizes that this slave might be her own

132 Schriften zur Musik, p.384.

386 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera daughter. ‘Mächt’ge Götter’ (‘Grands Dieux’), she cries, and agitato con moto, her voice moves upward from D-flat major to G minor (Musical Example 19, mm. 41-49).

Musical Example 19: Olimpia, Act II, No. 16 Duett (No. 14 Duo; Statira and Olimpia), mm. 39-51. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 387

The accompaniment (strings only) repeats the same theme three times, until one bar is split off and repeated (mm. 46ff). For Hoffmann, these thirteen bars were an example of how the simplest means were sufficient to achieve a formidable effect. The simplest, plainest melody and accompaniment at the beginning of the duet also struck Hoffmann as tender and heartfelt. He criticized the dramatic weakness of the original librettists, however, for bringing about the definitive mutual recognition of mother and daughter only by having Cassander jump in to confirm the slave’s true identity, after which he falls silent again. The remainder of the duet (Più mosso) expressed great joy, although German ‘strict critics’ might consider this part too Italianate, believing that it compromised the opera’s tragic dignity. Hoffmann’s reservation may have been partially due to the duet’s light- hearted character, and the fact that the two voices sing in parallel motion, especially towards the end, while Hoffmann preferred polyphonic voice leading. Italian influence is not necessarily judged negatively, however. The melody of the following number, a trio sung by Cassander, Olimpia and Statira (Musical Example 20, mm. 53ff), is ‘[…] von solch wunderbarem Reiz, daß auch hier der Einfluß des südlichen Himmels, des Landes, wo die Zitronen glühn, unverkennbar ist’. (‘so wonderfully enchanting that the influence of the southern sky, of the land, where the lemon trees glow, is readily apparent’.)133 Although Italian song often endangers the sublime dignity and tragic spirit of serious opera as demanded by Germans, in this case, Hoffmann lectures his readers, the noble character of the melody and of all secondary and transitional themes befit the grandeur of serious opera. The preceding recitative also greatly impressed Hoffmann, especially its development beginning in measure 14 (Musical Example 20). Statira here informs Olimpia about Cassander’s murder of her father. The tempo accelerates to Presto, wind instruments and trombones enforce the sober accompaniment (strings only) at the moment Statira mentions how Cassander usurped the throne and intended to marry Olimpia with blood still on his hands (mm. 22ff).

133 Schriften zur Musik, p.389. Hoffmann is obviously referring to Goethe’s Mignon (‘Kennst Du das Land’), mixing up the rhyme of the first and second line (‘Zitronen blühn’, ‘Gold-Orangen glühn’). 388 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 389 390 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Musical Example 20: Olimpia, Act II, No. 17 (No. 15), Trio (Olimpia, Cassander, Statira), mm. 12-58.

Hoffmann then describes the musical depiction of her ironic concluding line ‘voilà ton bienfaiteur!’ (‘Such is your protector!’): Statira’s voiceline drops from the tenth above the tonic D (F) to the augmented fourth (G-sharp) and down to E, the dominant of A (m. 27). Harmonically, the diminished- seventh chord on D-sharp is followed by a deceptive cadence, modulating Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 391 to E minor (mm. 28-30). The second passage that Hoffmann wanted to bring to the attention of the opera’s listeners begins here. Tremolos in the second violin and viola accompany Cassander’s recitative, in which he maintains that he himself has been deceived, while the full orchestra repeats the same motif, fortissimo and in unison, after each statement. Hoffmann lauds the unisonos as most impressive, and finds the bold modulation (D major – E-flat major – F minor – E-flat major; mm. 32-47) completely on par with the drama. Although the journal did not allow musical examples, Hoffmann could not refrain from calling attention to the end of the recitative and the ‘ingenious’ transition in mm. 50-53 (with the chromatic line F – G-flat – G – A-flat – A – B-flat) leading to B-flat major and into the trio. Hoffmann justified the abrupt change from the passionate and highly dramatic recitative to the charm and lightness of the trio by the development of the drama at this point. He interpreted the chromatic transitional passage as Cassander’s indignation at the injustice of Statira’s unforgiving rejection. The noble character of the trio while Olimpia and Cassander sing takes a tragic turn when Statira reacts to the two lovers with abhorrence instead of a tone of reconciliation. Her inner struggle, Hoffmann explains, is depicted in a chromatic motif of the oboe and violin (Musical Example 21, mm. 101ff).

Musical Example 21: Olimpia, Act II, No. 17 (No. 15), Trio, mm. 101-105. 392 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

This internal conflict becomes even clearer when Statira sings—to the same chromatic motif—a simple melodic line that expresses a growing feeling of pity. Indeed, the brightening modulation to D-flat major implies the increased hope that Statira might forgive. As her melody and chromatic accompanying motif reappear (Musical Example 22), she seems ready to reconcile, but at the sight of the approaching Cassander, her hatred drives her to fury and leads her to reject him forever (mm. 168ff): Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 393

Musical Example 22: Olimpia, Act II, No. 17 (No. 15), Trio, mm. 154-172.

Hoffmann once more regretted that he could not illustrate this trio with the score, since it was masterfully done, artistic without being artificial, and worthy of study. After briefly mentioning the chœur général and skipping Antigonus’s aria, Hoffmann turned to the finale. Pointing out again his considerable familiarity with the full score, he assured the readers that only a book could sufficiently convey its richness and wonderful structure. He therefore singled out two representative passages to give the listener an idea of this superb tone picture: the chorus of the priests and priestesses and the Presto con impeto, which slowly builds up to a fortissimo of full orchestra and choir, accusing Cassander of heedless ambition. This rage builds until the end of the finale.

As was the case with the previous acts, Hoffmann discussed the third act by pointing out those passages that most closely corresponded to the pure style of genuine serious opera, such as the recitative of Olimpia and the Hierophant. He admired its dramatic yet plain and simple composition, as well as the absence of wind instruments, with the exception of the bassoon. This proved Spontini’s masterful craftsmanship in accompanying the voice effectively without calling the full orchestra into action. Hoffmann considered the melody of Olimpia’s subsequent aria simple, childlike, and tender, and thus entirely consistent with Olimpia’s character. It was moreover exemplary of fluent vocal writing. The instrumentation was also sober, with horns, bassoons, clarinets, oboes, and flutes only coming in after twenty bars or after, and used only sparingly. The soberness of Cassander’s following recitative also met with Hoffmann’s approval as he emphasized how the accompaniment only required two melodies to bring about increasing dramatic expression. The care with which Hoffmann formulated his criticism is evident from his judgment of the duet between Cassander and Olimpia. After praising the grace of the typical Italian melody and structure of the whole, he continued: 394 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

von dieser hingerissen, wird man kaum einzuwenden vermögen, daß der tragische Stil, wie wir Deutschen ihn nach dem Vorbilde des großen Gluck anerkennen, eigentlich Mittelsätze, wie den in diesem Duett enthaltenen (im sechsundzwanzigsten Takt nach dem Anfange, E dur), verschmäht, so sehr auch das Ohr dadurch bestochen werden mag.

(carried away by this [grace], we will hardly come to object to middle sections, such as the one inserted in this duet (twenty-six bars from the beginning, E major), which are however incommensurate with the tragic style, as defined by us Germans according to Gluck’s great example, no matter how captivating to the ear such passages might be.)134

Hoffmann’s apparent dislike of the middle section was also grounded in technical reasons, for the first part of the duet (up to the Più mosso) is unified by an accompanying motif in the violin while it is absent from the middle section, setting this apart not only in terms of character but also structurally. Hoffmann considered the Più mosso itself highly characteristic of Spontini’s music, featuring a sweeping melody, a basso ostinato-like accompaniment in quarter notes or eighth notes, immediately answered by wind instruments, and short motives in the violin. Since Spontini had conquered the world with these characteristic aspects, many imitators, above all Rossini, had tried to achieve the same effect by exaggeratingly adding together all these features, but with wearisome results. At the end of this grand tour through the score, Hoffmann leaves the reader with the impression that although he admired Spontini’s opera, he had many reservations about it as well. In calling attention only to those passages closest to his ideal of tragic opera, he at the same time countered certain critical voices in the press, as the next section shows. While the review implies that judgments on opera should be based on the score rather than on nonmusical preferences, Hoffmann’s own motivations for supporting Spontini seem to lie beyond the score as well.

Further Observations on Hoffmann’s Last Review

With Hoffmann’s observations on the duet and critique of Spontini’s imitators, namely Rossini, the review closes (22 September 1821), despite the announcement ‘to be continued’. For regardless of his promise to the publisher Schlesinger, Hoffmann never reviewed the remaining scenes four

134 Schriften zur Musik, p.394. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 395 through eight.135 Since the text breaks off after the duet, at precisely the point where Spontini intended to include an entirely new scene, it is highly likely that Hoffmann wrote his review not after the première on 14 May 1821, but while he was working on his translation. He had begun this work in June 1820 and had finished up to the second act finale by 20 September 1820. At the end of November, Brühl had called for a conference to discuss the new scene. Hoffmann therefore must have stopped working on the review as soon as he learned about the planned new scene. Another indication that the review was written in the autumn of 1820 is the fact that it does not reflect changes in the text of his translation that he made for the final version.136 He had sent his translation to Brühl on 19 January 1821, and the libretto was published at the end of January or early February. In his letter of 24 January, he thanked Brühl for the received payment, and assured him that if changes needed to be made, he would be more than happy to do so.137 The piano reduction of 1823 did in fact contain many changes to the earlier text.138 Since Hoffmann’s review cites the earlier version, it must have been written before he was asked to make any changes. The introduction to the review, however, containing the historical overview of opera seria, seems to have been written at the beginning of 1821. One clue is that in criticizing Rossini, Hoffmann referred to Otello, which was first performed in Berlin on 16 January 1821.139 By the time he wrote this introduction, Hoffmann had also received the full score of Olimpia and translated the entire opera. Theoretically, he therefore could have finished his review of the opera’s final scenes as well, but apparently found the historical introduction to be of greater importance. One explanation for delaying the conclusion of his review might be that he

135 Hoffmann wrote to Schlesinger on 18 October 1821: ‘Künftige Woche schicke ich bestimt den Schluß der Beurtheilung der Olimpia und werde mit ein Paar Worten die Verzögerung entschuldigen’. (‘I will definitely send the end of the review of Olimpia in the coming week, and add a brief apology for its delay’.) Briefwechsel, II, p.320. 136 For these indications, see also Walter, ‘Hoffmann und Spontini’, pp.102-103. 137 Briefwechsel, II, p.295. 138 The earlier version can be found in Schriften zur Musik, Nachlese, 821-861, with the changes from the piano reduction provided in footnotes. Hoffmann had been involved in preparations for the piano score as well (see his letter to the publisher Schlesinger of 12 October 1821, Briefwechsel, II, p.319.) 139 Friedrich Schnapp points out that Hoffmann also seems to be referring to a review of Rossini’s Tancredi that appeared in the Vossische Zeitung of 15 February 1821. Like Hoffmann, the reviewer stated here that the third act of Otello clearly revealed that Rossini was much more talented than he had shown himself to be in other works, in which he only seemed to want to please the masses. (Schriften zur Musik, pp.537-538.) Most likely, Hoffmann wrote the introduction to his review after mid-February 1821.

396 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera wanted to await the première and hear a few performances before writing a concluding installment. While Schnapp assumes that illness prevented him from completing the review,140 Walter, to the contrary, believes that Hoffmann deliberately did not review the final scenes, since he didn’t like how Spontini had set them.141 The question of the unfinished review will be discussed further in Chapter Seven. The fact that the review had been completed long before the first performance, however, means that Hoffmann could not have reacted to reviews that addressed Olimpia after its Berlin première in May 1821. Nevertheless, he clearly seemed to counter common criticisms of Spontini’s music, such as those voiced in the reviews of Olimpie’s première in Paris (22 December 1819), in extensive reviews in the AMZ, and the Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung mit besonderer Rücksicht auf den österreichischen Kaiserstaat (AMZ-österr.) of February and March 1820.142 Both reviews acknowledge Spontini’s great talent at arranging musical materials, but claim that he clearly lacked the genius required to invent something new and original.143

140 Schriften zur Musik, 532. Schnapp bases his assumption on Hoffmann’s letter to the publisher Wilmans of 6 November 1821, excusing the delay of Meister Floh (Briefwechsel, II, p.322). The commentary to Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke gives the same explanation for the fact that the review remained unfinished (V: Lebens-Ansichten des Katers Murr. Werke 1820-1821, ed. by Hartmut Steinecke and Gerhard Allroggen (1992), p.1112). 141 Walter, ‘Hoffmann und Spontini’, pp.103-104. Complicating matters is the fact that the penultimate (twelfth) installment of 8 September 1821, which completed the review of Act II, was presented as ‘Schluss’ (‘conclusion’) and ended with the question as to whether an analysis of the third act was really needed. It is unclear whether the journal had misunderstood Hoffmann’s intentions or whether Hoffmann then changed his mind and decided to nevertheless provide an analysis of the third act. 142 AMZ 22: 7 & 8 (16 & 23 February 1820), cols 101-112 & 117-128; Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung mit besonderer Rücksicht auf den österreichischen Kaiserstaat 4: 22 & 23 (15 & 18 March 1820), cols 169-174 & 181-184. The author of the review in February, Georg Ludwig Peter Sievers (1775-1830), correspondent for the AMZ in Paris, might be behind the second (anonymously published) review in March, given the similarity in the musical aspects he addresses and the identical opinions presented. This review is however not mentioned in Christoph E. Hänggi, G. L. P. Sievers (1775-1830) und seine Schriften. Eine Geschichte der romantischen Musikästhetik (Bern: Lang, 1993), pp.47-50, 56, 239-246, which lists all of his essays and reviews. 143 AMZ 22: 7, col.110. In column 111, Sievers concluded, about Spontini’s music in general and Olimpie in particular: ‘vom wahrhaften tieferdringenden, schöpferischen Genie kein Funken, aber in jeder einzelnen Note Beweise eines denkenden, ordnenden und reflectirenden Verstandes, ausgerüstet mit allen Hülfsmitteln der Kunst und Erfahrung’. (‘There’s no spark of truly deep and creative genius, but each single note gives proof of a thoughtful, organizing, and reflecting intellect, fully Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 397

Moreover, they assert that melody, the soul of music, was Spontini’s weakest point and that overloaded harmony and instrumentation predominated. In contrast, Hoffmann’s repeated praise of Spontini’s fluent vocal writing and his natural talent in this respect is a clear counterpoint to this kind of criticism. Furthermore, his insistence on his careful study and profound knowledge of the original full score placed him in a position of authority in relation to the AMZ critic Georg Ludwig Peter Sievers, who remarked at the end of the first part of his review how it would be futile to go through all the numbers of the opera one by one, since he had no score at hand and could therefore not prove anything to his readers.144 Overall, Hoffmann’s review reads like a corrective response to the discussion of various aspects of Spontini’s new opera in these reviews. Both, for example, singled out Olimpia’s aria in the first act as noteworthy, but rejected the other arias for similar reasons: ‘Töne, nichts als Töne und abermals Töne!’ (‘sounds, nothing but sounds!’)145 and ‘eine Fluth von Tönen, ohne Melodie, ohne Totaleindruck, die ich nicht declamatorische, sondern durchaus keine Musik nennen möchte’. (‘a flood of sounds, without melody, leaving no general impression, which does not deserve to be called music at all’.)146 Hoffmann, to the contrary, devoted attention to a broader range of numbers as he praised Cassander’s aria in the first act, Statira’s two arias in the second act, and Olimpia’s aria in the third act for their melodic and harmonic qualities, as well as for their dramatic expression. Nor could his opinion on the first act finale be more at odds with the view of his colleague(s) in Paris: For Hoffmann the opera finally attained a deep tragic impact with this finale, while we read from Paris that:

Das Finale des ersten Actes ist eben imposant – durch den Lärm, den es macht, woraus viele Zuhörer Anlass genommen haben, es für ein Meisterstück auszugeben […] ich kann ihnen nicht beypflichten. Eine Folge hoher und tiefer Noten ohne Seelenverband hat mich nie anziehen können, überall vermisst man die herrschende Idee, die melodisch durchgeführt wird, und weiss am Ende nicht, was man eigentlich gehört hat.

(The finale of the first act is surely impressive—due to the noise it produces, seducing many listeners to call it a masterpiece […] I cannot agree with them. I have never been attracted to a series of high and low notes without a connecting soul. A distinct and prevalent idea, which is melodically developed, is lacking

equipped with artistic devices and experience’.) Similarly, the lack of genius and thus of creative power is also criticized in AMZ_österr. 4: 22, col.172. 144 AMZ 22: 7, col.111. 145 AMZ 22: 8, col.118. 146 AMZ_österr. 4: 23, col.182.

398 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

everywhere, and at the end one is left without an impression of what one has just heard.)147

With his extensive discussion of the finale, in which he tried to show how all musical elements work together to create one continuous whole, wherein the drama unfolds from moment to moment, Hoffmann clearly refuted this view of a string of unconnected, soulless sounds that were more noise than music. In calling attention to the dramatic power of many of the recitatives, Hoffmann also countered the opinion of the reviews from Paris. While arias and ensembles required a more lyrical nature, his colleague(s) in France saw the intellectual challenge posed by the setting of recitative as corresponding more closely to Spontini’s talent. In their view, however, accompanied recitative, especially with Spontini’s rich instrumentation, was rather unnatural and self-defeating. The instrumental accompaniment emphasized words, phrases and passages that gained an often undeserved dramatic expression.148 Hoffmann, on the other hand, praised many of the recitatives for their effective and economical accompaniment, which was always in accordance with the dramatic moment. Recitative had been essential for Hoffmann’s concept of serious opera and the passages that garner the most attention in his review are all recitatives. Hoffmann’s extensive analysis of the recitatives in particular, his praise of the unique fluency of the vocal line, and his singling-out of the soft and sparingly orchestrated parts, each time pointing out Spontini’s restraint in this respect, not only counter opinions voiced in the reviews from Paris, but also emphasize the aspects that Hoffmann himself most appreciated. Comments by the ‘strict critic’, as well as passages mentioned only in passing or left out altogether, clearly indicated that Olimpia was still a far cry from Hoffmann’s ideal of tragic opera. Nevertheless, the mutual enrichment of Italian melodic style, French dramatic recitative, and innovations in instrumentation in Spontini’s music resulted in a cosmopolitan style, which Hoffmann hoped would bring about a rebirth of tragic opera in the spirit of Gluck—and, luckily for the Germans, this time in Berlin, not Paris. In Paris, the reception of Spontini’s Olimpie had been rather cold. This was partially due to the fact that the opera’s performance had been delayed multiple times, but both Paris reviews blame politics as the main reason for the

147 AMZ_österr. 4: 23, cols 181-182. The earlier AMZ review similarly called the finale a mechanical sequence of high and low tones, without any trace of a spiritual theme or its further development. AMZ 22: 8, col.119. 148 AMZ 22: 8, cols 120-121. Sievers also acknowledges that the effectiveness of certain passages could be heightened by accompanied recitative and provides one example. The same opinion, without a positive example, appears in AMZ_österr. 4: 23, col.182. Berlin Reviews II: Spontini 399 work’s failure. Spontini had been a loyal royalist since the Restoration period, while most art journals, and the highly influential art critic Victor- Joseph Étienne de Jouy, belonged to the liberal camp. Moreover, while de Jouy had provided the libretti for Spontini’s two earlier operas La Vestale and Fernand Cortez, the composer had now turned to two other authors, royalists as well, which gave de Jouy an additional reason to disapprove of his erstwhile employer.149 Spontini’s move to Berlin, however, would not free him from such politically-motivated quarrels, since he would again serve and represent a King and his court, this time, moreover, in a less- cosmopolitan environment than Paris. Hoffmann’s writings on Spontini, which despite their critical undertones clearly supported the new General- Musik-Direktor, could not help but become caught up in the politically- motivated conflicts in the increasingly-polarized climate following the Carlsbad Decrees.

149 AMZ 22: 8, col.127; AMZ_österr. 4: 22, cols 173-174.

Chapter Seven Falling Silent: The Freischütz Controversy

A Tumultuous Première

Ein gutes Hoftheater galt damals als ein Ausdruck fürstlicher Würde, es gehörte in den Bereich der politischen Berechnung, indem es das Publikum von den revolutionären Ideen abziehen sollte, die über die Alpen, die über den Rhein kamen.

(At that time, a good court theater represented royal dignity and was part of political calculations, as it should keep the public away from revolutionary ideas, which came from over the Alps and from the other side of the Rhine.)

Thus wrote Count Redern, Count Brühl’s successor, in his memoirs.1 Spontini’s Olimpia, a work of grandiose proportions on a subject from Hellenic royal history following Alexander the Great, perfectly matched the Prussian court’s aspirations. The King himself regularly visited the rehearsals and during a visit from his son-in-law, Nicholas Pavlovich, the entire court was in attendance.2 The importance of the new opera was also obvious from the fact that Schinkel personally designed the stage sets for all three acts. All of his designs tried to reconstruct the interior and surroundings of the classical temple of Diana, inspired in part by examples from real objects that Schinkel had seen during his travels, in part by his imagination. In a similar vein, Brühl designed costumes modeled after examples from antiquity for all 340 participants.3 Musically, the preparations were equally ambitious: The space for the orchestra in the opera house had to be expanded for the enlarged ensemble, and Spontini needed forty-two rehearsals before the première on 14 May 1821.4 The performance was an enormous success: Spontini was called onstage to great applause and was bombarded with flowers.5 According to

1 Redern, Unter drei Königen, p.153. 2 ‘Der König besucht fleißig die Proben der Oper Olympia’. (‘The King regularly visits the rehearsals of the opera Olympia’.) Blätter aus der preußischen Geschichte von K. A. Varnhagen von Ense, ed. by Ludmilla Assing, 5 vols (Leipzig: Brockhaus, 1868-1869), I (1868), p.297 (3 May 1821); Redern, Unter drei Königen, p.105. 3 See Harten, Die Bühnenentwürfe, pp.374-375, 377-387. 4 Letter from Zelter to Goethe (7 June 1820). Spontini demanded forty violinists for the occasion, doubling the number then in the orchestra. MA, XX/1, p.617. 5 AMZ 23: 25 (20 June 1821), cols 440-441. 402 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Karl August Varnhagen von Ense, the court in particular was responsible for this enthusiastic reception, and the King held Spontini’s hand for a quarter of an hour. The majority of the public, however, Varnhagen continued, considered the opera to be nothing more than noise and lamented Spontini’s influence, reputation, and high pay.6 Varnhagen cautioned against believing the highly-enthusiastic praise in the newspapers and wrote in his diary: ‘Es wird versichert, der König habe durch Kabinetsbefehl verboten, in die hiesigen Zeitungen tadelnde Rezensionen von Spontini’s Olympia aufzunehmen. Das Publikum ist noch immer sehr getheilt über dieses Werk’. (‘It is said that the King has issued a decree forbidding the publication of critical reviews of Spontini’s Olympia in the local newspapers. The public is still divided over this work’.)7 Critics of the new General-Musik-Direktor could see in Olimpia nothing but a continuation of his earlier operas of La Vestale and Fernand Cortez, and thus another homage to Spontini’s former protector Napoleon. Prussia’s liberation from French occupation had therefore not yet been realized onstage.8 The publication of Hoffmann’s review beginning on 9 June and continuing through September therefore occurred amid the heated debates that were fuelled by the première of Carl Maria von Weber’s Der Freischütz just one month after the first performance of Olimpia. Weber had always found a warm supporter in Brühl, who had been trying to hire him in Berlin

6 Blätter aus der preußischen Geschichte, I, p.307 (15 May 1821). 7 Blätter aus der preußischen Geschichte, I, p.312 (24 May 1821). Varnhagen sees an article by Gubitz in Der Gesellschafter as an indication that the rumour is true: ‘Im Gesellschafter (von Gubitz) steht eine angefangene Rezension der Oper Olympia, die sichtbar zum Tadel einlenkt; da, wo dieser entschiedener ausgesprochen sein mußte, finden sich aber Zensurlücken durch Striche bezeichnet, und am Schlusse wird bemerkt, die Fortsetzung des Aufsatzes bleibe, aus Gründen, noch aufgeschoben. Es scheint also bestätigt, was man von einem Verbote des Tadels der Spontini’schen Oper gesagt’. (‘Gubitz’s Gesellschafter features the beginning of a review of Spontini’s Olympia, which clearly prepares a rebuke. Exactly where one expects to find his reproach more clearly articulated, however, there are only censorship dashes; the end announces that the continuation of the article has been postponed for [certain] reasons. This seems to prove the rumors about the ban on criticism of Spontini’s opera’. Blätter aus der preußischen Geschichte, I, p.314 (27 May 1821). Carl Maria von Weber similarly reported in a letter to Friedrich Kind (27 May 1821): ‘der Präsident des Censur Collegiums hat eine Ordre erlaßen, vermöge deren in keinem hier erscheinenden Blatte die Musik des H: Spontini getadelt werden darf’. (‘The president of the censorship office has issued an order that does not allow criticism of Spontini’s music in any publication here’.) URL: http://www.weber-gesamtausgabe. de/de/A002068/Korrespondenz/A041741. Retrieved 27 July 2012. 8 Redern, Unter drei Königen, p.105. The Freischütz Controversy 403 since 1815.9 Negotiations ended in 1817, however, when the King interfered and barred Weber’s appointment as Kapellmeister: ‘Des Königs Majestät haben die von Ew. Hochgeboren unter dem 20ten d.M. in Antrag gebrachte Anstellung des Kapellmeisters Maria von Weber, bei dem Berliner Theater, nicht zu genehmigen geruhet [...]’. (‘His Majesty the King have deigned to disapprove of the appointment of Kapellmeister Maria von Weber at the Berlin theater’.)10 According to Redern, the King disliked Weber as the composer of Theodor Körner’s Freiheitslieder, which in his view had no place in a state based on peace and order.11 In spite of this setback, Brühl continued to support Weber and intended to open the new Schauspielhaus with Weber’s new opera. Goethe’s Iphigenie auf Tauris was the first larger work to be performed for the occasion on 26 May 1821. Der Freischütz, as the first opera, would follow on 18 June, almost exactly ten years after Weber’s last contribution to opera, his one-act Singspiel Abu Hassan, had premièred on 4 June 1811. Illness and problems in his private life, a heavy workload, the lack of a congenial circle of artists and friends, and the scarcity of suitable libretti had all contributed to his difficulty in composing a new opera. After quitting his position in Prague on 14 April 1816, and following a three-month stay in Berlin during which he attended performances of Hoffmann’s Undine, Weber was appointed Musikdirektor at the Dresden court theater on 13 January 1817.12 Dresden had suffered enormously during the Napoleonic wars, especially during the battle in 1813, and the theater manager Count Heinrich Vitzthum had been able to convince the Saxon King, Friedrich August I, to establish a German division in addition to the luxurious Italian opera company. Since Saxony had lost face by siding

9 See Carl Maria von Weber, Briefe an den Grafen Karl von Brühl, ed. by Georg Kaiser (Leipzig: Breitkopf & Härtel, 1911), especially Brühl’s letters to Chancellor Hardenberg and King Friedrich Wilhelm III (Weber, Briefe, pp.51-54). Also see Brühl’s letters to Weber of 17 September 1815 and 9 July 1817, (URL: http://www.weber-gesamtausgabe.de/de/A002068/Korrespondenz; not available online in December 2014) and Brühl’s letter to Weber of 20 July 1817. URL: http://www.weber-gesamtausgabe.de/de/A000235/Korrespondenz/A040978. 10 Signed by Chancellor Hardenberg, 6 August 1817. Julius Kapp, 200 Jahre Staatsoper im Bild (Berlin: Hesses Verlag, 1942), p.27; also see Hübscher, Die königlichen Schauspiele zu Berlin, p.32. 11 Redern, Unter drei Königen, p.44. 12 When Weber learned that Francesco Morlacchi, conductor of the Italian opera, carried the far more prestigious title of Kapellmeister, he insisted on receiving the same status, which was granted on 10 February 1817 after the success of his first performance, Méhul’s Joseph. Weber had chosen this work not only because he admired it but also because only one female singer was required.

404 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera with Napoleon, this was a welcome opportunity to regain some respect in the German-speaking world, and the King was particularly interested in raising revenue from a paying audience. Weber was entrusted with setting up a German opera department, just a few years after Hoffmann had conducted the German performances of Seconda’s private opera company. Weber found a good orchestra at his disposal, but the lack of good singers severely limited his ambitions concerning the repertoire and as a composer. The operas he wrote were all for stages elsewhere: Der Freischütz (1821) for Berlin, Euryanthe (1823) for Vienna, and Oberon (1826) for London. The only opera intended for Dresden, Die drei Pintos, remained a fragment.13 On the whole, however, the artistic environment was more stimulating than in Prague, and soon after his move to Dresden Weber met the author Friedrich Kind at the Dichter-Thee (later renamed Liederkreis), a literary society frequented by authors and scholars such as Theodor Hell (pseudonym of Karl Gottfried Theodor Winkler, librettist of Die drei Pintos), Helmina von Chézy (librettist of Euryanthe), and Carl August Böttiger. Beginning in 1817, the society also published the Dresden Abend-Zeitung (edited by, among others, Theodor Hell), for which Ludwig Tieck would contribute literary criticism and Weber would pen his articles on musical drama. With Friedrich Kind, Weber discussed his earlier idea of an opera based on the novella Der Freischütz by Johann August Apel.14 Kind introduced a holy hermit into the plot, who turned the novella’s original tragic end, in which the heroine died and the hero succumbed to madness, into a happy one. With the inclusion of the hermit the conflict between good and evil, between the forces of Heaven and Hell, became central to the dramatic development and conclusion of the piece.15 Given the popularity of Apel’s folktale, Count Brühl recommended that Weber and Kind change their title Die Jägersbraut back to Der Freischütz.16

13 Gustav Mahler would finish the work in 1887 and conduct a performance in Leipzig on 20 January 1888. 14 Weber had already worked on this project with Alexander von Dusch as early as 1810. ‘Der Freischütz. Eine Volkssage’ is the first novella in vol. 1 of the Gespensterbuch, edited by Johann August Apel and Friedrich Laun (pseudonym of Friedrich August Schulze). The five volumes were published with Göschen between 1811-1815 and reprinted by Macklot 1814-1815. 15 In ‘Abermals vom Freischützen’. Der Münchener ‘Freischütze’ von 1812 (Regensburg: Bosse, 1959) Gottfried Mayerhofer discusses Franz Xaver von Caspar’s tragedy Der Frei- schütze (1812) as possible source for changes such as the introduction of the hermit, while Joachim Reiber argues that the hermit was a highly fashionable litererary figure at the time (Reiber, Bewahrung und Bewährung (Munich: Ludwig, 1990), pp.26-31. 16 Letter from Brühl to Weber of 24 May 1820. URL: http://www.weber-gesamtausga- be.de/de/A000235/Korrespondenz/A041553. The Freischütz Controversy 405

The opera’s three acts take place in the Bohemian forests, shortly after the Thirty Years’ war. In the first act, the young forester Max loses at a shooting contest, leaving him nervous and frustrated, since the next day he has to pass a shooting examination that will decide whether he can marry his beloved Agathe. Caspar, another young forester, persuades Max to follow him to the Wolf’s Glen, to cast seven magic bullets, six of which will never miss. The target of the seventh bullet, however, will be decided by Samiel, the black huntsman or devil. Max does not know that Caspar has lost his soul to the devil and only wants to prolong his life by sacrificing Max. In the second act, Agathe is restless, since Max has not yet returned and her ancestor’s portrait has suddenly fallen off the wall, which Agathe sees as a bad omen. This happened exactly at the moment when Max was trying out a magic bullet from Caspar’s gun, hitting an almost-invisible eagle. Earlier that day, Agathe had met a hermit, who had warned her of impending danger and had given her white roses to protect her. When Max finally returns home he announces that he has to go to the Wolf’s Glen that very night, to retrieve the deer he had shot earlier. At the Wolf’s Glen, the dark trees, high mountains, a waterfall, lightning, and a large owl with fiery red eyes, all contribute to an eerie and frightening atmosphere. Max and Caspar, with Samiel’s help, cast seven magic bullets. In the third act Agathe recalls the bad dream she had had that night, in which she was a white dove and was shot by Max. Her relative Ännchen again tries to cheer her up (this Romance and Aria was added upon Brühl’s request for Johanna Eunike), but in vain.17 When the bridesmaids bring what is believed to be Agathe’s bridal wreath, she finds a funeral wreath in the box instead. Since Max and Caspar had split the magic bullets between them and used all of them except one, Max will have to use the seventh bullet, the one controlled by Samiel, for the trial shot. It strikes Agathe, but since she is protected by her bridal wreath (which Ännchen had made from the hermit’s roses) it subsequently kills Caspar. When Prince Ottokar attempts to punish Max with banishment, the hermit interferes, making the inhumane shooting trial responsible for the fact that Max had gone astray and proposing a probationary year instead. A higher power appears to be speaking through the hermit, and the opera ends with thankful prayers. Since the opera’s subject featured ordinary people and their struggle against evil powers rather than a topic from classical antiquity concerning kings and queens, along with the fact the date of the performance was 18 June, the commemoration of Napoleon’s defeat at the Battle of Waterloo,

17 Letter from Brühl to Weber of 22 March 1821. URL: http://www.weber-gesamt ausgabe.de/de/A000235/Korrespondenz/A041674.

406 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Weber’s most recent opera gained a considerable political dimension. This was even more evident at the première itself: Max Maria von Weber (1822- 1881), in the second volume of his biography of his father, reported that the Schauspielhaus was packed for the occasion and that crowds had waited outside for four hours before the performance.18 Notably absent, however, were members of the court as well as the military. Max Maria von Weber went on to describe the audience’s reaction to each number, and how after the end of the second act, the Wolf’s Glen scene, the composer’s triumph had been complete. The opera had ended with thunderous applause and Weber was called onstage and showered with flowers, songs, and poems from the audience. One of these poems, however, penned by Friedrich Förster, ended with the following lines:

Du sollst uns der trefflichste Jäger sein! So laß dir’s gefallen in unserm Revier, Hier bleiben, so rufen, so bitten wir. Und wenn es auch keinem Elephanten gilt, Du jagst wohl nach anderem, edleren Wild!

(You will be our most masterful hunter! Please feel at home on our hunting ground And please stay here, we urge, we beg you. No elephant will be your target, As you aim for other, nobler game!)19

The poem’s barb against Spontini in the last lines and its preference for Weber as head of the Berlin opera were painfully clear and did more harm than good. In Act III of Spontini’s Olimpia, Cassander enters the stage on the back of an elephant.20 Along with the pomp and circumstance of the production itself, Förster was obviously also aiming at the composer’s

18 Max Maria von Weber, Carl Maria von Weber. Ein Lebensbild, 3 vols (Leipzig: Keil, 1864-1866), II, p.312. 19 Weber, Carl Maria von Weber, II, p.320. Varnhagen commented on the première: ‘[…] mit größtem Jubel aufgenommen, der Komponist hervorgerufen, Blumen und Gedichte u.s.w. Die sichtbarste Opposition gegen Spontini und gegen die ihm gewogene Hofparthei. Das eine Gedicht sagt unter anderm, er, Weber, brauche keinen Elephanten’. (‘[...] received with loud acclaim, the composer was called forward, flowers and poems etc. Most obvious opposition against Spontini and the court party that is favorably disposed toward him. One of the poems says among other things that Weber doesn’t need an elephant’.) Blätter aus der preußischen Geschichte, I, p.327 (18 June 1821). 20 Neither the productions in Paris nor those in Berlin featured a real elephant. See AMZ 22: 8 (23 February 1820), col.125 and AMZ_österr. 4: 23 (18 March 1820), col.183, as well as Redern’s account, Redern, Unter drei Königen, p.105. The Freischütz Controversy 407 bombastic music in general, as compared to Weber’s refined compositional style. Weber immediately published a note in the Vossische Zeitung the following day, in which he thanked all of the participants for their contributions to the splendid performance, but also distanced himself from the poem, assuring his readers that it hurt him far more than the ‘famous man’ at whom it was directed.21 The poem apparently also overshadowed the festive party that Weber’s friends had organized afterwards at restaurant Jagor, as Max von Weber reported, and the atmosphere was even more tainted by E. T. A. Hoffmann’s sarcastic running commentary about the scenery, designed by stage painter Carl Gropius (1793-1870). Hoffmann allegedly also crowned Weber with a laurel wreath, exclaiming words along the lines of ‘Ist er nicht herrlich wie Tasso?’ (‘Isn’t he as great as Tasso?)’22 A few words of caution about this report on Der Freischütz’s reception are in order. Max Maria von Weber was not even born at the time of the première of the opera, and had received his information from Julius Benedict (1804-1885), Weber’s sixteen-year-old pupil at the time, who wrote down his memories for Max Maria forty years after the events had taken place. Friedrich Wilhelm Gubitz, on the other hand, who had presented a poem for Weber at the party, did not even mention Hoffmann’s presence in his account of the events.23 Hoffmann’s role in the conflicts around the reception of Der Freischütz is complicated by partisan anecdotes and divergent interpretations.

Contemporary Letters and Comments

As composer of patriotic works such as the songs from Leyer und Schwerdt and the cantata Kampf und Sieg, and as the head of German opera in Dresden, Weber had all of the requisite credentials for becoming the creator of a German national opera. The proximity of the premières for two such important operas as Olimpia and Der Freischütz polarized the public even more. The AMZ gave the première of Weber’s Freischütz just one paragraph, under the overview of concerts performed in Berlin during June 1821. The theater had been packed, the reviewer noted, and no opera had been so enthusiastically received since Spontini’s Olimpia. Just as Spontini had,

21 Vossische Zeitung no. 24 (21 June 1821); Weber, Sämtliche Schriften, pp.401-402. 22 Weber, Carl Maria von Weber, II, pp.317-318. In Goethe’s play Torquato Tasso, the poet Tasso is awarded a laurel wreath by the princess for his latest work (Act I, Scene 3). 23 Gubitz, Erlebnisse, II, pp.197-200.

408 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Weber had been showered with laurels, flowers, and poems. Newspapers in Berlin gave the subject much more attention. The Vossische Zeitung, for example, published an extensive review, which gained fame much later when Julius Benedict and Max Maria von Weber attributed it to Hoffmann and saw it as another sign of Hoffmann’s betrayal of his friend Weber and the cause of German opera.24 In 1957, however, Wolfgang Kron convincingly proved that this attribution was incorrect, thus solving one puzzling aspect of Hoffmann’s stand in the controversy around Der Freischütz.25 The anonymous reviewer particularly condemned the opera’s libretto as just another example of the fashion of the day, in which ‘vampirism’ had taken hold of literature, which now only aimed to make its readership shake and shiver. He would have considered Der Freischütz a work whose sole intent was to pursue such effects (literally an ‘effect-hunter’—Effekt-Jäger) had not Weber’s music saved the opera. Since Mozart, nothing more significant had been written for German opera besides Beethoven’s Fidelio. This judgment should have alerted later critics that the review could not have come from Hoffmann’s pen. Time and again, Hoffmann had referred inclusively to Spontini as ‘one of us’, and in his extensive review on Spontini’s Olimpia, which had just appeared at the time, he hailed the General-Musik-Direktor for leading the way to the future of opera, and thus German opera as well. A Singspiel like Der Freischütz would not really fit this program. Moreover, the anonymous reviewer of the Vossische Zeitung only seemed to be considering works by Germans, and even criticized Spontini’s influence on the work. While he praised Weber’s imagination, originality, instrumentation, and especially his songs and choruses, the text’s unpleasantly gloomy air, according to the critic, unfortunately also pervaded

24 The anonymous review discussed the first three performances and was published in nos. 76 & 77 of 26 and 28 June 1821, pp.5-7 and 6-7, respectively. Based on this attribution, some other shorter contributions in the Vossische Zeitung concerning Der Freischütz had subsequently also been attributed to Hoffmann. (For an overview see Kron, Die angeblichen Freischütz-Kritiken, pp.11-28, 128-129). Hoffmann editions and biographers adopted the attribution, which provided an additional argument regarding Hoffmann’s dubious role in the promotion of German opera. The anonymous reviews were reprinted in Carl Maria von Weber. Der Freischütz. Texte, Materialien, Kommentare. Mit einem Essay von Karl Dietrich Gräwe, ed. by Attila Csampai and Dietmar Holland (Reinbek bei Hamburg: Rowohlt, 1981), pp.104-114. 25 Kron based his arguments on many aspects of content, form, and style (a summary can be found on pp. 104-110); in particular, his observations that Hoffmann would never have reviewed an important work without a score, and would have formulated his criticism in a much more respectful tone are supported by our study of all of Hoffmann’s other Berlin opera reviews. The Freischütz Controversy 409 the music, and the conclusion of the opera had no effect on the audience at all due to the excessive length of the text. The reviewer twice accused Weber of plagiarizing Spontini: at the end of the overture and in the introduction to the third act. This allegation may have been an important reason for causing later biographers to believe that Hoffmann was behind the Vossische Zeitung review. Hoffmann’s friend J. P. Schmidt published a positive review in the Zeitung für Theater und Musik… Eine Begleiterin des Freimüthigen, in which he also took a stand against the critic of the Vossische Zeitung.26 Schmidt’s review draws attention to the fact that both the librettist and the composer whose opera had opened the new Berlin theater were German. Thirteen of the fourteen musical numbers were received with lively applause, and Schmidt called the performance perfect.27 Schmidt praises Weber’s latest opera as genuinely Romantic several times and emphasizes its effective instrumentation, for example in Samiel’s and Caspar’s parts, and its idiosyncratic melodies. Minor points of criticism are the too-lengthy trio and finale in the second and third act, respectively, and the addition of Ännchen’s aria for the sake of the singer. Along with such admiring voices, Der Freischütz found opponents not merely among Spontini’s admirers and royalists; Carl Friedrich Zelter, for example, could not find anything in it to his taste, as he wrote to Goethe: ‘Eine neue Oper: Der Freischütz von Mar. v. Weber, geht reißend ab’. (‘A new opera, Der Freischütz, by Maria von Weber, is causing a commotion’.) After ridiculing the story line, he continues:

Die Musik findet großen Beifall und ist in der Tat so gut daß das Publikum den vielen Kohlen und Pulverdampf nicht unerträglich findet. Von eigentlicher Leidenschaft habe ich vor allem Gebläse wenig gemerkt. Die Kinder und Weiber sind toll und voll davon; Teufel schwarz, Tugend weiß, Theater belebt, Orchester in Bewegung und daß der Komponist kein Spinozist ist magst Du daraus abnehmen daß er ein so kolossales Werk aus oben genanntem Nihilo erschaffen hat.

(The music is greatly acclaimed and is really so good that the audience tolerates all the smoke and steam. In all the huffing and puffing I can find but little genuine passion. The women and children are crazy about it; the devil is black, virtue white, theatre buzzing, orchestra lively, and that the composer is no

26 This in itself is another argument against Hoffmann’s authorship, as noted, since Schmidt would certainly not have polemicized against Hoffmann. Schmidt’s review appeared in Zeitung für Theater und Musik 1: 25, 26 and 27 (23 & 30 June and 7 July 1821), 99-100, 104, 105-107. For the hints against the reviewer of the Vossische Zeitung, see p.104 (reminiscences in the overture) and p.106 (introduction to Act III). 27 Zeitung für Theater und Musik, 1: 25 (23 June 1821), pp.99-100 and 1: 27 (7 July 1821), p.107.

410 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Spinozist you may gather from the fact that he has created such a prodigious work out of the nothing suggested above.)28

For Zelter, the subject matter in and of itself made the work unsuitable as an exemplary German opera. The work’s one-dimensional characterization had also been criticized by the reviewer of the Vossische Zeitung, who called them ‘stereotyped formulas’, of interest to no-one.29 The ‘commotion’ that the opera caused, as Zelter phrased it, was described by Heinrich Heine (1797-1856) in his second letter from Berlin almost one year later (16 March 1822).

Heinrich Heine’s Briefe aus Berlin. Zweyter Brief (Letters from Berlin. Second Letter)

As an outsider, Heine commented on the events with detached humor.30 By quoting the violinist Boucher, who called Berlin ‘la capitale de la musique’, Heine poked fun at Berliners, who believed that the city represented the cultural center of Germany. Indeed, Heine continued, he couldn’t escape hearing the ‘song of all songs’, the ‘Jungfernkranz’ (‘Bridal Wreath’) from Weber’s Freischütz, anywhere he turned. From early in the morning until late at night, whether outside or inside, people from all classes and professions were singing this song. There was no escape, one rendition of the song had barely ended when the next started up, and even the dogs were barking it on the streets. Despite this, Heine admired Weber’s new opera: ‘Der ganze Freischütz ist vortrefflich, und verdient gewiß jenes Interesse, womit er jetzt in ganz Deutschland aufgenommen wird’. (‘The whole of Der Freischütz is excellent, and certainly deserves the interest with which it has been received all over Germany’.)31 Although the opera had been performed at least thirty times in Berlin by now, it was still sold out each time and the opera was also causing a sensation in Vienna, Dresden, and Hamburg. The packed theater at the Freischütz-performances had also been noted in the aforementioned

28 5 September 1821, MA, XX/1, pp.667; Byrne Bodley, Goethe and Zelter, pp.283-284. 29 Csampai, ed., Carl Maria von Weber, p.107. 30 Heine had arrived in Berlin in March 1821 to study at the University of Berlin and left again in May 1823. 31 Heinrich Heine, Historisch-kritische Gesamtausgabe der Werke, ed. by Manfred Windfuhr, 16 vols, (Hamburg: Hoffmann und Campe, 1973-1997), VI: Briefe aus Berlin. Über Polen. Reisebilder I/II (Prosa), ed. by Jost Hermand (1973), Zweyter Brief (pp.19-37 (p.24); Heine in Art and Letters. Translated, with a Prefatory Note, by Elizabeth A. Sharp (London: Scott, [1895]), p.122. The Freischütz Controversy 411 reviews in the AMZ and Vossische Zeitung. How politically loaded these performances were, however, was evident from the fact that at the concert Weber gave just one week after the première of his opera, when he premièred his latest Konzertstück in F minor, the hall remained almost empty.32 In his letter, Heine touched on music’s exceptional role in the Prussian capital, explaining the commotion surrounding the première of a new opera:

Der heftige Partheykampf von Liberalen und Ultras, wie wir ihn in andern Hauptstädten sehen, kann bey uns nicht zum Durchbruch kommen, weil die königliche Macht, kräftig und partheylos schlichtend, in der Mitte steht. Aber dafür sehen wir in Berlin oft einen ergötzlichen Partheykampf, den in der Musik. Wären Sie Ende des vorigen Sommers hier gewesen, hätten Sie es sich in der Gegenwart veranschaulichen können, wie einst in Paris der Streit der Gluckisten und Piccinisten ungefähr ausgesehen haben mag.

(The violent strife between Liberals and Reactionaries, as we see it in other capitals, cannot break out here in full force, because the royal power, established in the centre of and on the outside of these parties, exercises its puissant arbitration. But, instead, one often sees in Berlin an equally edifying party-strife between musicians. Had you been here at the end of last summer, you could easily have pictured to yourself, by the spectacle of the present day, what in the past must have been the war of the Glückists and Piccinists in Paris.)33

With a grain of irony, Heine seemed to imply that the innocent and amusing quarrel among musicians was more serious and politically loaded when the citizens, as was clearly the case in Berlin, were deprived of any political voice. He continued to explain how the two factions, one pro and one contra Spontini, were clashing and why. Personally, Heine believed that Spontini’s overall influence on the theater had been negative, due to the promotion of his own works and those of friends or kindred spirits.34 Heine

32 Weber, Carl Maria von Weber, II, p.326. 33 Heine, Briefe aus Berlin, p.24; Heine in Art and Letters, pp.122-123. 34 As we have seen, Hoffmann’s reviews suggested the opposite. Like Hoffmann, Baroness Caroline de la Motte Fouqué, wife of Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué, saw the theater as having made progress after Spontini’s arrival. In her third letter from Berlin, she wrote about the theater: ‘Es ist noch jetzt wie damals, im Fortschreiten, und hat für die Oper, durch den Ritter Spontini, bedeutender gewonnen! Der Cortez und die Vestalin unter seiner Leitung gewähren einen seltenen Genuß, auch für Solche, welche Musik lieben, ohne sie zu verstehn. Die Harmonie völliger Zusammenstimmung fällt wohlthuend in jedes Ohr’. (‘It is today, just as it was back then, still in progress, and with regard to opera, it has considerably improved, due to [the efforts of] Ritter Spontini. Cortez and La Vestale under his direction give exquisite enjoyment also to those who love music without proper understanding.

412 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera also admitted, however, that he was not qualified to judge Spontini’s music and was basically echoing the dominant voices he had heard around town. Spontini’s supporters could mostly be found among members of the aristocracy,35 and in particular among those who flattered aristocrats and imitated their tastes and lifestyle. Those opposing Spontini didn’t like him ‘weil er ein Welscher ist. Andre, weil sie ihn beneiden. Wieder andre, weil seine Musik nicht deutsch ist. Aber endlich der größte Theil sieht in seiner Musik nur Pauken- und Trompetenspektakel, schallenden Bombast und gespreizte Unnatur. Hierzu kam noch der Unwille Vieler ------’. (‘because he is an Italian, others because they are envious of him. Others, again, because his music is not German. But the greater majority find in his music only a noise of cymbals and trumpets, clanging bombast and an unnatural style. Add to this the anger of many people.....’.)36 Further reasons were apparently not to the liking of the censors. Heine had cautioned his readers against putting their faith in the Berlin press, especially in operatic matters, which in the capital were one of the main topics of discussion. Concerning singers, for instance, the lack of neutrality was patent: ‘Ihre Apologien sind stereotyp in allen Berliner Korrespondenzartikeln und Zeitungsrezensionen; täglich liest man: Die Milderhauptmann ist unübertrefflich, die Schulz ist vortrefflich, und die Seidler ist trefflich’. (‘Their eulogies are stereotyped in all the Berlin correspondence articles, and in the newspaper criticisms. Daily one reads: Midder [!] Hauptmann is superb, Schulz is exquisite, Seidler is excellent’.)37 The Berlin opera was described as the best of all theaters, and all of the opinions about the works performed there followed party lines. Amused, Heine quoted several rumors and anecdotes about Spontini’s ‘tumultuous’ music. While one humorist proposed testing the stability of the walls of the new theater using Spontini’s music (Spontini’s works were always performed in the royal opera house),

The harmony of total consonance pleases every ear’.) Caroline de la Motte Fouqué, Briefe über Berlin (Berlin: Schlesinger, 1821), pp.41-42. 35 The support for Spontini among the aristocracy and the arguments against him among the middle class are also mirrored in Ludwig Tieck’s novella Musikalische Leiden und Freuden (1824). In a discussion about music among the protagonists, the baron and his daughter turn out to be admirers of Spontini, ‘who cannot be praised enough’, while the layperson criticizes Spontini’s tumultuous music and puts all his hopes for the future on Carl Maria von Weber. The Kapellmeister settles the dispute by calling both incomparable, although he can’t refrain from commending Weber for his originality and truly German spirit. Ludwig Tieck, ‘Musikalische Leiden und Freuden’, Gesammelte Novellen, 12 vols (Berlin: Reimer, 1852-1854), I (1852), pp.271- 342 (pp.321-323). 36 Heine, Briefe aus Berlin, p.25; Heine in Art and Letters, p.124. 37 Heine, Briefe aus Berlin, p.24; Heine in Art and Letters, p.123. The Freischütz Controversy 413 another, upon leaving the opera after being exposed to Olimpia, admired the ‘soft’ music of the grand tattoo outside.38 Even the hearing-impaired could enjoy Spontini’s music: ‘Die Tauben aber waren ganz entzückt von so vieler Herrlichkeit, und versicherten, daß sie diese schöne, dicke Musik mit den Händen fühlen konnten. Die Enthousiasten aber riefen: “Hosianna! Spontini ist selbst ein musikalischer Elephant! Er ist ein Posaunenengel!”’ (‘The deaf were enchanted with so much gorgeous display, and vowed they could feel the beautiful thick music with their hands. The enthusiasts, however, cried out: “Hosannah, Hosannah! Spontini is himself a musical elephant! He is an angel with the last trumpet!”’)39 This also immediately recalls Förster’s poem, which had turned the same comparison against Spontini. In his letter, Heine in fact reported on this incident and on Weber’s exaggerated apologies, since at that time he was still hoping for a position at the Berlin theater. Apart from this incident, Der Freischütz was an enormous success, as Heine had pointed out.

‘Made in Germany’ – An Opera’s Success Story

During the same year as its première in Berlin, Der Freischütz was staged in Vienna, Karlsruhe, Leipzig, and Prague, and in 1822 performances in

38 Weber, who attended the première of Olimpia and several subsequent performances, was of the same opinion. In a letter to Kind he wrote: ‘Was Ihnen der Bekannte über Olimpia sagte, ist ganz wahr. Das bezeichnendste darüber ist, was Zelter sagte, wenn ich aus der Oper komme, ist mir der Feuerlärm ein melodischer Genuß und Erholung’. (What your acquaintance says about Olimpia is entirely true. The most telling is what Zelter said about it: ‘When I come out of that opera, the fire alarm is a melodious delight and cure’.) Letter of 31 May 1821; URL: http://www.weber- gesamtausgabe.de/de /A002068/Korrespondenz/A041743; retrieved 27 July 2012. The historical relativity of such judgments becomes evident in the following note from Berlin on a performance of Wagner’s Der fliegende Holländer some twenty years later: ‘Wir sind hier in Berlin durch Spontini so ziemlich an Spektakel in den Opern gewöhnt, allein auf ein solches Abnutzen der Pauken und Trompeten waren wir nicht gefaßt. Spontini schreibt im Verhältniß nur Kammermusik’. (‘Thanks to Spontini we are quite used to spectacle in opera in Berlin, but we weren’t prepared for such an overuse of timpani and trumpets. Spontini composes chamber music by comparison’.) Dresden Abend-Zeitung 28: 49 (23 April 1844), p.327b; reprinted in Helmut Kirchmeyer, Situationsgeschichte der Musikkritik und des musikalischen Pressewesens in Deutschland, dargestellt vom Ausgange des 18. bis zum Beginn des 20. Jahrhunderts, 6 vols (Regensburg: Bosse, 1967- ), IV/2: Das zeitgenössische Wagner-Bild: Dokumente 1842-1845 (1967), col.423. 39 Heine, Briefe aus Berlin, p.26; Heine in Art and Letters, p.125.

414 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Dresden, Munich, and Copenhagen followed. London saw several stagings in 1824, as did Paris with Robin des bois, an arrangement by François Castil- Blaze.40 The opera even reached New York (1825) and New Orleans (1826) (in a cowboy version entitled The Wild Horsemen of Bohemia) within a few years.41 Various factors contributed to the work’s overwhelming success. Like Undine, Der Freischütz stood in the Singspiel-tradition with spoken dialogue and, like the earlier opera, also gave nature an important role (water in the former, the forest in the latter).42 In both works, the spirit world permeates the human sphere. Der Freischütz, however, presents a clear social order and, after having been disturbed by evil powers, this order is restored in the end. The sharp distinction between good and evil is also mirrored by simpler, black-and-white characters, such as the pure heroine, the well- meaning but misled hero, and the just Prince. Apart from this straightforward worldview, it was also the music that captivated audiences. Weber’s use of folksong-like melodies made the opera extremely popular, as Heine had so aptly described. A flood of piano fantasies and variations, along with other arrangements of the opera, or rather of its tuneful numbers, promoted the dissemination and popularization of Weber’s work. Weber’s successful integration of folksong elements contributed to his enormous popularity but also led to a highly one-sided reception of Der Freischütz. In context, the popular tunes used in it were much more ambiguous than they initially appeared. Heine’s example of the ‘Jungfernkranz’, for instance, is a depiction of the ‘naïve’ morality of the young women. The turn to minor, however, and the disintegration of the melody until everything dissolves into pianissimo at the end, illustrate the fragility of this seemingly-intact world. The complex function of this music, often contradicting the straightforward happenings on stage, was not perceived by the audience and certainly not reflected by the arrangements.43

40 For the early Freischütz-reception in London and Paris see Annegret Fauser, ‘Phantasmagorie im deutschen Wald? Zur “Freischütz”-Rezeption in London und Paris 1824’, in Deutsche Meister – böse Geister?, ed. by Hermann Danuser and others, pp.245-273. 41 Matthias S. Viertel, ‘Zur Wirkungsgeschichte des “Freischütz” im 19. Jahrhundert’, Carl Maria von Weber. Werk und Wirkung im 19. Jahrhundert; Ausstellung der Schleswig- Holsteinischen Landesbibliothek (Kiel: Die Landesbibliothek, 1986), pp.51-62 (p.55). 42 Pfitzner claimed that the real main character of Der Freischütz was the forest. Hans Pfitzner, ‘Webers “Freischütz”. Geleitwort zu meiner “Freischütz”-Aufführung in den Maifestspielen zu Cöln den 11. Juni 1914’, Gesammelte Schriften, I, p.81. 43 Viertel, ‘Zur Wirkungsgeschichte des “Freischütz” im 19. Jahrhundert’, p.61. Theodor W. Adorno hears the Jungfernkranz as ‘Todessymbol’, and Hermann Abert calls it a parody of folk music. Theodor W. Adorno, ‘Bilderwelt des Freischütz’, Moments musicaux (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, 1964), pp.40-46; Hermann Abert, The Freischütz Controversy 415

Not only the work’s appealing elements, however, such as its rural setting, depiction of demonic powers, and popular songs, were important for its success. Political aspects played an equally important role. Whether one wanted to cheer the patriotic composer of the songs of Leyer und Schwerdt or dream of the good old order where everyone knew his God- given place, Der Freischütz had something to offer. In Vienna, during the Metternich regime, this political dimension was noted with suspicion, and the opera was severely mutilated since the censors forbade the appearance of the hermit and the devil (Samiel) on stage, or anything referring to religion. Guns or bullets were not permitted either, rendering the whole Wolf’s Glen scene pointless. The hermit was a problem for many arrangers, because, after all, he corrected the judgment of the Prince, who in the end had to obey the solitary religious man. After the Carlsbad Decrees, this was not exactly the ideology that most rulers wished to promote. Even such drastic changes as those undertaken in Vienna, however, did not limit the overwhelming success of the work’s première in the Kärntnertortheater, prompting impresario Domenico Barbaia to commission a new opera from Weber. Weber accepted this opportunity and decided to write a much more ambitious through-composed opera, Euryanthe, which however never reached the popularity of Der Freischütz.44 In fact, it was the earlier Singspiel that was performed at the Opéra in Paris on 7 June 1841, a theater exclusively reserved for serious opera. Since spoken dialogue was not permitted in this genre, Hector Berlioz (1803-1869) was asked to compose recitatives and he also added a ballet for the occasion. Richard Wagner was present at the performance and vehemently criticized this ‘corruption’ of Weber’s opera. In an essay meant to prepare the Parisian audience for what it was about to see, entitled ‘“Der Freischütz”. An das Pariser Publikum’ (‘An Address to the Parisian Public’), Wagner tried to explain what made this opera so characteristically ‘German’. His article provides an excellent summary of what would prove to be the most important aspects in the reception of Weber’s opera for generations to come. ‘Germanness’, Wagner explained, is sharply defined by natural surroundings; the dark and gloom of the Bohemian forests make it easily understandable ‘daß der vereinzelt hier lebende Mensch sich einer dämonischen Naturmacht, wenn nicht verfallen, doch unlösbar unterworfen glaubte’. (‘that the isolated beings that live among them think themselves—

‘Carl Maria von Weber und sein Freischütz’, Gesammelte Schriften und Vorträge, ed. by Friedrich Blume (Halle (Saale): Niemeyer, 1929), pp.421-450 (pp.440-441, 447). 44 Another honor resulting from the success of his Freischütz was the offer of a position as Kapellmeister in Kassel, but Weber decided to stay in Dresden.

416 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera if not positively the prey of some demoniac power of nature—at least hopelessly under its control’.)45 The legend of nature (‘Natursage’) has remained ‘das ewig unerschöpfliche Element des Dichters für den Verkehr mit seinem Volke’. (‘the inexhaustible resource of the poet in his intercourse with his people’.)46 Wagner realized how hard this would be for the city dwellers of Paris to understand. They could not know that ‘Wald’ was not the same thing as ‘bois’. Nature as well as folk music had gained great importance in the effort to constitute a German national identity, since a political one was still missing: ‘Wir sind wirklich ein sonderbares Volk: “Durch die Wälder, durch die Auen” rührt uns zu Tränen, während wir trockenen Auges statt auf ein gemeinsames Vaterland auf vierunddreißig Fürstentümer um uns blicken’. (‘We are truly a singular people! “Through the forests, through the meadows”, moves us to tears; while we look with dry eyes on thirty-four principalities around us, instead of on one united fatherland!’)47 Nature and culture nurtured the feelings of a community that still lacked political unity. Its naïve and witty dialogues, the simplicity of its deeply-meaningful German Lied, all made the Freischütz an opera for the German people, who could immediately identify with its scenes and characters. Wagner was convinced that the added recitatives and ballet music, even in the hands of a genius like Berlioz, would surely destroy the spirit of this ‘Volksoper’. Although Parisians would never be able to understand the longing for ‘Waldeinsamkeit’ (the solitude of the forest), Wagner called on them to at least try to breathe some of the fresh air of the German forests. After the performance, which was even worse than Wagner had expected, he wrote a polemical essay ‘“Le Freischutz”. Bericht nach Deutschland’ (‘A Report to Germany’), for the Dresden Abend-Zeitung (20 June 1841). He began with romantic raptures about the German homeland and its people:

O, mein herrliches deutsches Vaterland, wie muß ich dich lieben, wie muß ich für dich schwärmen, wäre es nur, weil auf deinem Boden der ‘Freischütz’ entstand! Wie muß ich das deutsche Volk lieben, das den ‘Freischütz’ liebt, das noch heute an die Wunder der naivsten Sage glaubt, das noch heute, im Mannesalter, die süßen, geheimnisvollen Schauer empfindet, die in seiner Jugend

45 Richard Wagner, Gesammelte Schriften, ed. by Julius Kapp, 14 vols (Leipzig: Hesse & Becker, [1914]), VIII: Aufsätze zur Musikgeschichte II, p.12; Richard Wagner, ‘Der Freischütz; An Address to the Parisian Public’, Art Life and Theories of Richard Wagner: Selected from his Writings and Translated by Edward L. Burlingame, 2nd edn (New York: Holt & Co., 1904), pp.92-107 (p.98). 46 Wagner, Gesammelte Schriften, VIII, p.13; Art life and theories of Richard Wagner, p.99. 47 Wagner, Gesammelte Schriften, VIII, p.14; Art life and theories of Richard Wagner, p.100. The Freischütz Controversy 417

ihm das Herz durchbebten! Ach, du liebenswürdige deutsche Träumerei! Du Schwärmerei vom Walde, vom Abend, von den Sternen, vom Monde, von der Dorfturmglocke, wenn sie sieben Uhr schlägt! Wie ist der glücklich, der euch versteht, der mit euch glauben, fühlen, träumen und schwärmen kann! Wie ist mir wohl, daß ich ein Deutscher bin!

(O my glorious German Fatherland! How I must love thee—how I must glorify thee—if only because Der Freischütz was born upon thy soil! How I must needs love the German people who love the Freischütz, who even to-day believe in that simple legend; who still in their manhood feel the sweet and mystic awe that filled them in their youth!—Ah, blessed German Träumerei! Fantasy that surrounds the forest, the evening, the stars, the moon, the village clock when it strikes seven! How happy is he that understands you,—that can feel with you, dream and wander with you! It is bliss to feel that I am a German!)48

Obviously, as Wagner implied here, the Parisian audience had not been able to grasp any of these aspects in the version presented at the Opéra. Wagner’s emphasis on subject and setting, and his identification of nature and folk culture with ‘Germanness’, had been typical of Der Freischütz’s reception soon after its première. The work was perceived to be both the prototype of Romantic opera and the quintessential German opera. ‘Romantic’ and ‘German’ thereby became a single, inseparable entity. The political dimension of the ‘birth’ of German Romantic opera, already evident at the Freischütz première, gained momentum over time: The opera’s sensational success represented the German homeland’s liberation and the triumphant victory of German art over foreign influences. This view was perpetuated well into the twentieth century, as this preface to a piano reduction (Frankfurt: Peters, 1926, 1954) shows:

Webers Sieg war ein Sieg der deutschen Kunst über die Fremdherrschaft der Italiener, die nun für immer gebrochen blieb. Der ‘Freischütz’ ward als nationale Tat gefeiert, nicht dem vollendeten Kunstwerk galt der Jubel, der ihn umbrauste, sondern der deutschen Oper.

(Weber’s victory was a victory of German art over the foreign rule of the Italians, which now had been broken forever. ‘Freischütz’ was now celebrated as a national achievement, and the rapturous acclaim with which it was received was not so much directed towards the perfect work of art as to German opera.)49

48 Wagner, Gesammelte Schriften, VIII, pp.20-21; Art life and theories of Richard Wagner, p.108. 49 Carl Maria von Weber, Der Freischütz. Romantische Oper in drei Aufzügen, ed. by Kurt Soldan (Frankfurt: Peters, 1926, 1954), [p.2]. The emphasis on German perseverance is especially evident in the Weber biography by Julius Kapp (Stuttgart, Berlin: Deutsche Verlags-Anstalt, 1922). Its fifth edition

418 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

The work’s ‘Germanness’ was apparently more essential than its artistic achievement, and its triumph was primarily a political rather than an artistic one. Weber and his Freischütz became a landmark of German self-esteem: Germany had put itself on the map. Great symbolic meaning was ascribed to the return of Weber’s remains from London to Dresden, a highly theatrical event, where Wagner had praised Weber as ‘more German’ than all of the other German composers who had ever lived.50 At the fiftieth anniversary of the Freischütz première in 1871, Friedrich Wilhelm Jähns (1809-1888) published his thematic catalogue of Weber’s works and dedicated it to all Germans (‘allen Deutschen gewidmet’).51 In the introduction to this ambitious work, which inadvertently but very symbolically coincided with German unification, Jähns characterized Weber as the most ‘dramatic’ and the most ‘German’ of all composers to date. Weber, Jähns continued, was the creator of Romantic opera and of truly German opera, since the German people were most inclined to deep and dreamy Schwärmerei. Later on, he called Der Freischütz the most German of all operas.52 General histories of opera and histories of Romantic opera largely perpetuated this view and described Weber as one of the most eminent figures in the development of German Romantic opera from Hoffmann (Undine, 1816), Spohr (Faust, 1816), Weber (Der Freischütz, 1821) and Marschner (Der Vampyr, 1828, Der Templer und die Jüdin, 1829, Hans Heiling, 1833) to Wagner (Die Feen, 1833/34, Der fliegende Holländer, 1843, Tannhäuser, 1845, Lohengrin, 1850).53

(Berlin: Hesse, 1931) is dedicated to ‘den Vorkämpfern deutschen Wesens und deutscher Art’ (‘to the pioneers of German character and German ways and values’). 50 ‘Nie hat ein deutscherer Musiker gelebt als du!’ (‘There never lived a more German musician than you’.) (Richard Wagner, ‘Rede an Webers letzter Ruhestätte’, Gesammelte Schriften, II: Autobiographisches II, pp.51-53 (p.52)). The plan to return Weber’s remains to German soil had been launched immediately after the Rhine crisis in a journal article (Europa, I, 1841). Despite initial opposition by the Saxon court, the pressure from a press campaign and the efforts of supporters of Weber’s widow ensured that Weber’s remains were finally reburied in Dresden on 15 December 1844. (See Max Maria von Weber’s biography, II, pp.714-718; Richard Wagner, Gesammelte Schriften, II, pp.46-51; Hans John, ‘Die Überführung der Gebeine Carl Maria von Webers nach Dresden. Eine Dokumentation nach Archivquellen’, Beiträge zur Musik-wissenschaft 30: 1/2 (1988), 90-95. 51 Friedrich Wilhelm Jähns, Carl Maria von Weber in seinen Werken. Chronologisch- thematisches Verzeichniss seiner sämmtlichen Compositionen (Berlin: Schlesinger, 1871). 52 Jähns, Carl Maria von Weber, pp.1, 3-6, 306-307. 53 Hermann Kretzschmar summarized this teleological development: ‘Mit dem “Freischütz” tut Deutschland den entscheidenden Schritt in der Geschichte der Oper; es beginnt eine Bewegung, die mit Richard Wagner und mit der Vorherrschaft deutschen Geistes im internationalen Musikdrama endet’. (‘With “Freischütz”

The Freischütz Controversy 419

Questioning this widely-held view, Edward J. Dent, in his 1937-38 lectures, somewhat provocatively noted that Weber introduced almost nothing new but instead eclectically adopted what had been developed by predecessors and contemporaries. According to Dent, the real creators of Romantic opera were the French.54 Previous to this, Hermann Abert had pointed to the influence of French opéra comique on Weber’s opera.55 Although Der Freischütz spoke to a common sentiment of the German people and was rooted in their Singspiel tradition, it was influenced above all by the popular genre of opéra comique. Ännchen, for instance, is not a Singspiel character at all, but is clearly derived from the soubrette of opéra comique, singing in typical French forms such as ariette and romance. Other French elements are, among others, the device of melodrama (even the famous Wolf’s Glen scene thus is French-inspired), the reminiscence motif (such as the famous Samiel motif), the ‘Entre-Akt’ music, which opens the third act, the important role of couleur locale (nature had already come to life in Cherubini’s operas) and the tendency towards tableaux (picturesque scenes) rather than dramatic action. Even some vernacular melodies resemble French tunes and the spirits of Cherubini and Méhul are present throughout

Germany is making a decisive step in the history of opera; a movement is beginning that will end with Richard Wagner and the supremacy of the German mind in international music drama’.) (Hermann Kretzschmar, Geschichte der Oper (Leipzig: Breitkopf & Härtel, 1919), p.255.) Subsequent studies largely subscribe to this view, from Ludwig Schiedermair’s Die deutsche Oper. Grundzüge ihres Werdens und Wesens (Leipzig: Quelle & Meyer, 1930; see especially the chapter ‘Die romantische Nationaloper’ (pp. 206-235)) or Siegfried Goslich’s Die deutsche romantische Oper (Tutzing: Schneider, 1975) up to Roger Parker’s (ed.) The Oxford Illustrated History of Opera (Oxford University Press, 1994), and Robert Cannon’s Opera. Cambridge Introductions to Music (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012). 54 The lectures held at Cornell University were published as Edward J. Dent, The Rise of Romantic Opera, ed. by Winton Dean (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1976), p.160. Alfred Einstein and Donald J. Grout would likewise credit French opéra comique with being the original inspiration for German Romantic opera (Alfred Einstein, Music in the Romantic Era (New York: Norton, 1947), p.107; Donald J. Grout, A Short History of Opera, 2nd edn, 2 vols (New York: Columbia University Press, 1965), II, p.379). This insight, however, hardly influenced their description of the history of German opera. Although providing a much more nuanced view, with an eye for discontinuities and foreign influences, John Warrack’s study German Opera: From the Beginnings to Wagner still perpetuates the idea of a history of German opera leading up to Wagner. Sabine Henze-Döhring warns against attempting to construct, ‘was es de facto nicht gegeben hat: eine deutsche Oper als Gattung’ (‘what de facto never existed: a German opera as genre’). Sabine Henze-Döhring, ‘Gattungs- konvergenzen – Gattungsumbrüche. Zur Situation der deutschsprachigen Oper um 1800’, in Oper im Aufbruch. pp.45-67 (pp.63-64). 55 Abert, ‘Carl Maria von Weber und sein Freischütz’, p.433.

420 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera the score.56 Apart from the familiar traits of opéra comique, the French audiences were already used to horror and bloodshed from their revolutionary operas, which had emerged after 1789 and, as the anonymous reviewer in the Vossische Zeitung had noted, the Freischütz libretto had its roots in European Dark Romanticism, which described the natural world as dark and demonic, with devils, ghosts, and vampires threatening lonely and vulnerable human beings.57 The overwhelming success of Der Freischütz outside of Germany was in the end as much due to its cosmopolitan traits as to its ‘Germanness’: European audiences recognized the familiar in the foreign and the opera therefore was easily adaptable to different tastes and preferences.58

Reflections on Hoffmann’s Silence

Given all of the commotion surrounding Der Freischütz and its immediate success in opera houses all over Germany, it is remarkable that one voice remained notably unheard in the discussion: E. T. A. Hoffmann kept silent despite Weber’s earlier review of Undine and Hoffmann’s subsequent promise to his colleague that he would return the favor. Hoffmann’s silence puzzled his contemporaries. Weber in particular, was at a loss as to how it should be interpreted. He and Hoffmann had been on good terms not only

56 For French influences, see especially Carl Dahlhaus, ‘Webers “Freischütz” und die Idee der romantischen Oper’, Österreichische Musikzeitschrift 38: 7-8 (July-August 1983), 381-388; John Warrack, Carl Maria von Weber (New York: Macmillan, 1968), pp.215- 217; Ludwig Finscher, ‘Weber’s “Freischütz”: Conceptions and Misconceptions’, Proceedings of the Royal Musical Association 110 (1983-1984), 79-90 (pp.80-81); Jürg Stenzl, ‘“Sieg der deutschen Musik über welschen Dunst und welschen Tand”? Zu Carl Maria Webers “Der Freischütz”’, Aurora 55 (1995), 217-230 (pp.224-226); For French influence more generally, see also: John Warrack, ‘Französische Elemente in Webers Opern’, in Die Dresdner Oper im 19. Jahrhundert, ed. by Michael Heinemann and Hans John (Laaber: Laaber-Verlag, 1995), pp.119-124; Carl Dahlhaus, ‘Opéra comique und deutsche Oper’, in Neues Handbuch der Musikwissenschaft, VI: Carl Dahlhaus, Die Musik des 19. Jahrhunderts (1980), pp.52-62. 57 The direct source of Apel’s folk legend was the confession of Georg Schmid (1710) of having cast magic bullets; the tale therefore was not a folk legend at all, nor was it typically German. 58 Michael C. Tusa has called attention to the ‘Janus-faced’ moment in the development of German nationalism as represented in Der Freischütz: ‘In concept and structure, a late outgrowth of German enlightened cosmopolitanism but in content and detail, a harbinger of nineteenth-century romantic nationalism’. Tusa, ‘Cosmopolitanism and the National Opera: Weber’s “Der Freischütz”’, Journal of Interdisciplinary History, 36: 3 (Winter, 2006), 483-506 (p.506). The Freischütz Controversy 421 during the staging of Undine but also when Weber came to Berlin to prepare for the première of his Freischütz. His diary reports regular visits to Hoffmann (18 & 29 May, 2 & 8 June, and 19 June, the day following the première). In his letter to Kind of 31 May, Weber wrote: ‘Hoffmann nimmt sich sehr theilnehmend und warm; überhaupt kann ich mich nur erfreuen in welcher Weise ich durchgehends Beweise von Achtung bekomme’. (‘Hoffmann shows himself very involved and warm; generally, I am very pleased about how I am treated with respect all the time’.)59 Three weeks later, however, he apparently began to wonder about Hoffmann’s failure to reply, and wrote to Kind on 21 June: ‘[D]er Freyschütze hat ins Schwarze getroffen. […] Gubitz, Wolf[f] pp nehmen sich sehr herzlich. auf Hoffmann bin ich noch begierig. man will mich immer vor ihm warnen; ich habe aber guten Glauben so lange als ich kann’. (‘Freischütz hit the mark. […] Gubitz, Wolf[f], etc. are very cordial. I am still eager to hear from Hoffmann. I have been warned against him, but I will keep good faith as long as I can’.)60 On 30 June, Weber returned to Dresden and on 9 August again referred to Hoffmann’s silence in a letter to the singer Friederike Koch, although apparently still without vexation or suspicion: ‘Hoffmann hat über den Freyschützen schreiben wollen. scheint es aber vergeßen zu haben. Mein treuer Wollank könnte ihn wohl daran errinnern, und zugleich sich auch. Uebrigens schreibe ich gewiß nächstens Jedem einzeln’. (‘Hoffmann intended to write about Freischütz, but apparently has forgotten to do so. The faithful Wollank could probably remind him, as well as himself. I will by the way soon write to each of them separately’.)61 Whether Weber reminded Hoffmann personally is not known, but if there had been a serious breach of trust or even a falling-out between the two composers, Hoffmann’s friends would certainly have known about it. Almost immediately after Hoffmann’s death (25 June 1822), Count Brühl, who was planning to restage Undine with a revised introduction, wrote to Fouqué: ‘Hoffmann ist tod! – Wer wird nun die erste Scene in Undine componiren […]’. (‘Hoffmann is dead! – Who will now compose the first scene to Undine […]’.)62 Both Brühl and Fouqué asked Hitzig whether sketches for the introductory scene were among Hoffmann’s possessions. Fouqué as well as Hitzig wrote to Brühl on 18 November, and since nothing had been found, both recommended Weber as best candidate to compose

59 URL: http://www.weber-gesamtausgabe.de/de/A002068/Korrespondenz/A041743 60 URL: http://www.weber-gesamtausgabe.de/de/A002068/Korrespondenz/A041750 61 URL: http://www.weber-gesamtausgabe.de/de/A002068/Korrespondenz/A041768 (retrieved on 6 February 2015) 62 Letter of 4 July 1822; Schnapp, Aufzeichnungen, p.670.

422 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera the new scene. Hitzig even referred to the friendship between the two men, which makes it highly unlikely that Weber was carrying a grudge against Hoffmann. Like many of his contemporaries, he did however feel that Hoffmann had been beguiled by Spontini, as a letter of 1824 reveals: ‘Br[ühl] hat mir auch Wunderdinge erzählt wie der Ritter [Spontini] nun auch Robert, wie früher Hoffmann, umgarnt und in sein Intereße gelokt habe’. (‘Br[ühl] told me the remarkable story how the Ritter [Spontini] has now also ensnared Robert and lured him to his side, just as he had done before with Hoffmann’.)63 Brühl may therefore also have been among those who had ‘warned’ Weber against Hoffmann a few years before. Hoffmann had not only collaborated with Spontini in translating Olimpie and published his extensive review of the opera, but Brühl also learned about new plans on the part of Spontini and Hoffmann concerning the opera Milton. He wrote to Hoffmann on 1 July 1821 that since Hoffmann was ‘on friendly terms with the composer’, on behalf of the theater he would also like to request his collaboration for this project. In his reply, Hoffmann took great pains not to offend Brühl’s sensibilities:

Ganz allein von Ew. HochGebohren hängt ja die Bestimmung ab, wer für das Theater irgend eine Arbeit übernehmen soll, auf Spontinis Antrag die Oper oder vielmehr das Singspiel Milton ganz umzuarbeiten konte ich mich daher nicht eher einlassen, bis ich Ew. Hochgebohren Genehmigung gewiß war. Ew. HochGebohren ausgesprochener Wunsch Rücksichts der Bearbeitung jenes Singspiels ist für mich so ehrenvoll und schmeichelhaft, daß ich gewiß alle meine Kräfte aufbieten werde, mir die gütige wohlwollende Meinung zu erhalten, die Ew. HochGebohren von mir zu hegen scheinen […].

(The decision as to who takes on any kind of work for the theater depends entirely on you, sir. Therefore I could not entertain Spontini’s proposal that I should entirely revise the text of his opera, or rather his singspiel, Milton until I was sure of your consent. Your express wish concerning the adaptation of this singspiel does me honor and flatters me. I will certainly make every effort to deserve the kind and favorable opinion you seem to have of me.)64

With all of his reviews and activities in support of Spontini, however, there seemed to be no doubt that Hoffmann, despite being the composer of Undine, which had been so warmly supported by Weber, had now defected

63 Letter of 6 September 1824 to Hinrich Lichtenstein; URL: http://www.weber- gesamtausgabe.de/de/A002068/Korrespondenz/A042348. Ludwig Robert (orig. Levin) (1778-1832) was a German dramatist and poet, and the younger brother of Rahel Varnhagen von Ense (1771-1833). 64 Letter of 14 July 1821; Briefwechsel, II, 305; Selected Letters, p.307. The Freischütz Controversy 423 to the royalists’ camp.65 Hitzig, Hoffmann’s first biographer, noted that the Gruß an Spontini and his close collaboration with the General-Musik-Direktor had often been held against him later on, and had been interpreted as demonstrating a servility unworthy of Hoffmann. He hastened to add that Hoffmann could not have been further removed from such a flaw.66 Hoffmann’s strong support for Spontini may have felt disloyal to Weber and the cause of German opera as the debate was raging, but an examination of Hoffmann’s diaries, letters, and reviews (see Chapter Six) shows that in fact there had been no sudden change of heart on Hoffmann’s part. After his return to Berlin, Hoffmann had almost exclusively dedicated his comments to tragic opera. When viewed in that light, his focus on Spontini, Europe’s greatest living composer of tragic opera, was hardly surprising, particularly since Spontini’s hiring as the head of the Berlin opera. In his writings, Hoffmann had focused on the elements in Spontini’s music he most admired, and had emphasized time and again that a composer’s achievements should be judged on his musical and aesthetic choices, not on his country of birth or ethnic origins.

Explaining Hoffmann’s Silence

Even if Hoffmann restricted himself to reviewing tragic opera, however, the question still remains: Why did he not make an exception for his friend Weber, to whom he had apparently promised such a review? A summary of the various explanations proposed will be briefly presented here. One explanation, suggested by Weber in his 1824 letter, and even by Hoffmann himself in a letter to Count Brühl, was that he felt flattered by the requests of such a famous composer as Spontini.67 Spontini had visited Hoffmann at home almost immediately upon his arrival in Berlin, telling Hoffmann that he had heard about him in Paris. Hoffmann’s readiness to help Spontini also brings another explanation to the fore concerning his

65 This view is still held by Donald Henderson, who writes: ‘As one improvident in his ways and in chronic need of funds, he [Hoffmann] had hired out to the royal establishment to translate the French text into German and to revise the ending of the opera. If anyone resembled the legendary unstable Tasso, it was Hoffmann, not Weber’. (Donald G. Henderson, The Freischütz Phenomenon: Opera as Cultural Mirror, (Xlibris, 2011), p.91.) Hoffmann would, to the contrary, stand firm in his stance on Spontini and on other important issues, as we will see below. 66 Hitzig, Aus Hoffmann’s Leben und Nachlass, II, p.143. 67 See the letter of 8 June 1820, in which he told Brühl that he had to try his best to live up to the high opinion Spontini had of his talents (see Chapter Six).

424 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera own ambitions as an opera composer, since he was apparently hoping for a favor in return. After the old theater had burned down, abruptly ending the performances of Undine and destroying all of the sets for it, Hoffmann was eager to see his opera restaged at the new theater. In his letters to Count Brühl, he repeatedly inquired about a possible revival of Undine.68 Hoffmann was keenly aware that for this plan, as well as for any future opera project, he would need the approval of General-Musik-Direktor Spontini. Heine had mentioned in his second letter from Berlin that among those supporting Spontini, there also were a few ‘[…] Komponisten, die ihre Musik gern auf die Bühne brächten […]’. (‘composers who would fain have their own productions put upon the stage […]’.)69 Whether Heine had specific names in mind is unknown, but his remark shows the general awareness of Spontini’s influence among composers. A third explanation also involves interests at court. Heine had already wittily remarked that the royal power was above criticism, making the discussion of any political differences almost impossible. In the wake of the Carlsbad Decrees, law enforcement measures cracked down severely on the opposition. King Friedrich Wilhelm III installed an Immediate Commission for the Investigation of Demagogic Activities and appointed Hoffmann as one of its members on 1 October 1819.70 One of the most famous, or rather infamous, cases that this commission had to investigate concerned Friedrich Ludwig Jahn.71 The Immediate Commission finally concluded that Jahn had to be released due to lack of evidence (28 February 1820). After demanding his release for a second and third time, the Commission offered its resignation (18 May 1820), which, however, was not granted. As this was proceeding, the King himself had to intervene on several occasions to overrule the Commission and appointed a new Ministerial Commission in order to counteract the decisions of the Immediate Commission. As is well known, Hoffmann eventually found himself accused and interrogated after the manuscript of his tale Meister Floh, in which he satirized the practices of

68 See Hoffmann’s letter of 28 August 1818. Brühl replied that this would only be possible in the new theater, since the royal opera house was too big (Briefwechsel, II, pp.174, 175), and furthermore Hoffmann’s letters of 3 March and 8 June 1820 with suggestions for a revised beginning, and 14 July 1821 (Briefwechsel, II, pp.240-241, 261 305-306). After Hoffmann’s death, Johann Christoph Kienlen composed the revised scenes, but the opera was not performed again in Berlin. 69 Heine, Briefe aus Berlin, p.25; Heine in Art and Letters, p.124. 70 ‘Königlich Preußische Untersuchungs-Commission zur Ermittlung hochverräte- rischer Verbindungen und anderer gefährlicher Umtriebe’ 71 Friedrich Ludwig Jahn (1778-1852). For more on this leader of the Turnverein (gymnastics) movement and Hoffmann’s role in his case, see below. The Freischütz Controversy 425 the police and the Ministerial Commission, was confiscated. In light of these developments it would not be surprising that Hoffmann was trying to avoid further irritating the King and therefore cooperated with Spontini, who enjoyed the King’s full protection. A letter to his close friend Theodor von Hippel (24 June 1820) seems to confirm this assumption: First, Hoffmann vents his frustration with his new job on the Immediate Commission and the investigations of imaginary enemies of the state. He then continues: ‘Eine neue sehr interressante Bekanntschaft habe ich an dem als Componisten wirklich großen Spontini gemacht, dessen neueste Oper “Olympia” ich, weil es der König gewünscht, nolens volens ins Deutsche übertragen muß’. (‘I made a new, very interesting acquaintance in the really great composer Spontini, whose latest opera Olympia I must nolens volens translate into German because that’s what the king wants’.)72 The fact that he then characterized the translation as a ‘completely devilish task’ further suggests that Hoffmann did in fact feel pressured by the King’s wishes that he help out Spontini. Still another possible reason for Hoffmann’s involvement with Spontini and particularly with Olimpie, was, as we have seen, Hoffmann’s hope for a rebirth of tragic opera, with Berlin becoming the new operatic center of Europe (see Chapter Six). To slow the ascendancy of Rossini’s operas, which were rapidly conquering the stage alongside the predominant sentimental and comic works, Hoffmann saw in Spontini the man who could re-establish tragic opera in all of its former glory. According to Libby, Hoffmann not only hoped to convince the public of the genre’s superiority but also to advise Spontini on the path he should follow as an opera composer in Berlin.73 Although Hoffmann tried to create a better understanding of tragic opera and to further its cause, it remains questionable whether his last extensive review was intended to guide Spontini himself, given the fact that the General-Musik-Direktor spoke no German. While these explanations all assume some insincerity on Hoffmann’s part in supporting Spontini (prompted by flattery, his own operatic ambitions and desires, or caution towards the King), recent scholars believe that Hoffmann was a true convert who had developed a deeper understanding of Spontini. Norbert Miller even suggests that Hoffmann saw both Weber and Spontini as being the true heirs of Gluck. Hoffmann’s crowning of Weber and his comparison with Tasso showed, according to Miller, ‘daß er den “Freischütz” für ein Werk allerersten Ranges hielt, für die Einlösung des

72 Briefwechsel, II, p.264; Selected Letters, p.298. 73 Libby, p.274. Walter, ‘Hoffmann und Spontini’ adopted the same view (p.104).

426 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera hundertjährigen Traums von der deutschen Nationaloper, die gleich- bedeutend neben die großen Leistungen des italienischen und französischen Musiktheaters treten konnte’. (‘that he considered Freischütz to be an absolutely first-rate work, which fulfilled the hundred-year-old dream of a German National opera, and was comparable to the great achievements of Italian and French opera’.)74 Apart from this anecdote, however, there is no evidence to support this conclusion, and, even if it were true, the question as to why Hoffmann did not write a word on Weber would become all the more pressing. Speculating about Hoffmann’s silence on Weber, Kron suggests three possible reasons: First, Hoffmann had been preoccupied with his literary works Lebensansichten des Katers Murr and Meister Floh. Second, Kron also brings forward the assumption that Hoffmann did not want to jeopardize his friendly relations with Spontini because he wanted to restage his Undine. Finally, Kron suggests that there was no proper venue for publication of such a review on Weber: Hoffmann disliked the recent direction taken by the arts section of the Vossische Zeitung, and the Zeitung für Theater und Musik was still waiting for the conclusion of his Olimpia review, and it had, moreover, already published J. P. Schmidt’s glowing review of Der Freischütz.75 Like Miller, Kron therefore also assumes that Hoffmann greatly admired Weber’s work but did not write a review for tactical and practical reasons.

Further Suggestions Explaining Hoffmann’s Silence

While time constraints and fostering a good relationship with Spontini may indeed have played a role, it is hard to believe, however, that Hoffmann could not have found a proper venue to publish the discussion of a work had he been truly convinced that it ‘fulfilled the hundred-year-old dream of a German National Opera’. There is even stronger evidence than the anecdote about Hoffmann’s crowning of Weber that Hoffmann knew Der Freischütz very well, and greatly appreciated Weber’s talents: When he was asked to give a written opinion in 1822 in a civil case concerning the Viennese piano reduction by M. J. Leidesdorf of Der Freischütz, he

74 Norbert Miller, ‘Für und wider die Wolfsschlucht. E. T. A. Hoffmann, die “Freischütz”-Premiere und das romantische Singspiel’, in Festschrift Rudolf Elvers zum 60. Geburtstag, ed. by Ernst Herttrich and Hans Schneider (Tutzing: Schneider, 1985), pp.369-382 (p.374). 75 Kron, Die angeblichen Freischütz-Kritiken, pp.100-103. The Freischütz Controversy 427 immediately took on the task. In his opinion, Hoffmann argued that the new piano score could not be an illegal reprint of Weber’s original piano reduction, which had been published with Schlesinger in Berlin, but that it was based on the full score. The overture, Hoffmann stated, was done in the usual humdrum manner, while Weber prepared his piano reductions in a singular and ingenious way.76 It remains hard to believe then that Hoffmann, who had first-hand access to the score and performances of Weber’s new opera, and had certainly discussed the work with Weber during the latter’s visits, would not and could not have written a contribution about Weber’s achievements had he wished to do so. As mentioned previously, Der Freischütz was not a tragic opera, which was the subgenre that had become Hoffmann’s prime interest. Just like Hoffmann’s own Undine, it mostly resembled French opéra comique. Both works feature spoken dialogue, songs with Lied character, melo- dramatic passages, extensive ensembles, picturesque choruses, and descriptive orchestral music with colorful instrumentation. As a reviewer, Hoffmann had often praised representatives of the French operatic tradition as exemplary: Grétry, Gluck, Sacchini, Cherubini, Spontini, Méhul. But there are no published opinions on Fidelio or Freischütz, the operas that would become so closely identified with the birth of German opera by later reviewers and music historians (and that had been singled out by the Freischütz reviewer of the Vossische Zeitung). An important aspect that Weber adopted and further developed from French opera was the extensive use of tone painting and instrumental colors and motives to characterize protagonists, situations, and locale. In his (most likely) feigned Gespräche mit Carl Maria von Weber (Conversations with Carl Maria von Weber), Johann Christian Lobe touches on this aspect, and ‘Weber’ then gives an insightful and convincing exposé on the matter: ‘In dem “Freischütz” liegen zwei Hauptelemente, die auf den ersten Blick zu erkennen sind: Jägerleben und das Walten dämonischer Mächte, die Samiel personificirt. Ich hatte also bei der Komposition der Oper zunächst für jedes dieser beiden Elemente die bezeichnendsten Ton- und Klangfarben zu suchen […]’. (‘There are in Der Freischütz two principal elements that can be recognized at first sight— hunting life and the rule of demonic powers as personified by Samiel. So when composing the opera I had to look for suitable tone colours to

76 The text of the full opinion appears in Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, VI: Späte Prosa/Briefe/Tagebücher und Aufzeichnungen/Juristische Schriften. Werke 1814- 1822, ed. by Gerhard Allroggen, Friedhelm Auhuber and others (2004), pp.1084- 1086.

428 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera characterize these two elements […]’.)77 To paint the forest and hunting scenes, the horns were the obvious choice. However, the prevailing tone colors should depict the demonic powers that pervade the entire work, about which Weber remarks:

Ich habe lange und viel gesonnen und gedacht, welcher der rechte Hauptklang für dies Unheimliche sein möchte. Natürlich mußte es eine dunkele, düstere Klangfarbe sein, also die tiefsten Regionen der Violinen, Violen und Bässe, dann namentlich die tiefsten Töne der Clarinette, die mir ganz besonders geeignet zu sein scheinen zum Malen des Unheimlichen, ferner die klagenden Töne des Fagotts, die tiefsten Töne der Hörner, dumpfe Wirbel der Pauken oder einzelne dumpfe Paukenschläge.

(I gave a great deal of thought to the question of what was the right principal colouring for this sinister element. Naturally it had to be a dark, gloomy colour—the lowest register of the violins, violas and basses, particularly the lowest register of the clarinet, which seemed especially suitable for depicting the sinister, then the mournful sound of the bassoon, the lowest notes of the horns, the hollow roll of drums or single hollow strokes on them.)78

These dark, ominous sounds would emerge whenever the demonic powers were at work. As mentioned before, Weber had learned this use of characteristic tone painting by studying French works. In his reviews of French opera, however, Hoffmann had paid little attention to one of the most characteristic traits of the French tradition. His consistent focus, be it French, Italian, or German opera, had been on how to make the music realize the dramatic action and how the greatest effect could be achieved with the fewest and simplest means. It is perhaps no coincidence that Weber had made his début in Prague with Spontini’s Fernand Cortez, the work with the most vivid use of couleur locale, of rhythmic motives and instrumentation depicting exotic scenes and atmosphere. As we have seen, it was also the work that Hoffmann had liked the least of all of Spontini’s French operas. One of the most remarkable aspects of Weber’s score therefore did not greatly engage Hoffmann’s interest. Hoffmann, on the contrary, had placed great value on the economical use of motives and rapidly-progressing dramatic action, aspects that were less relevant for Der

77 Johann Christian Lobe, ‘Gespräche mit Carl Maria von Weber’, Fliegende Blätter für Musik. Wahrheit über Tonkunst und Tonkünstler, 3 vols (Leipzig: Baumgärtner’s Buchhandlung, 1855-1857), I (1855), pp.27-34, 110-122 (p.31); Warrack, Carl Maria von Weber, p.212. Weber also distinguished between the different spheres in his opera through tonal pattern: D major represents the village life and hunting, C minor the dark and demonic side, and C major innocence and redemption. 78 Lobe, I, p.32; Warrack, Carl Maria von Weber, p.212. The Freischütz Controversy 429

Freischütz. The music’s strength lay in its creation of specific atmospheres and the separate numbers were held together by recurring instrumental colors and motives, not by the unstoppable development of dramatic action.

Concepts of Romanticism

Compositional issues, however, were not the only reason for Hoffmann’s reservations. Although acclaimed as one of the first German ‘Romantic’ operas, Der Freischütz is ‘Romantic’ in a very different sense than Hoffmann’s Undine.79 Due to Hoffmann’s influence on the libretto, Undine centered entirely on the tensions between the supernatural and the human world, over which ambiguity reigned until the very end. In Weber’s Freischütz, however, the struggle is unambiguously between good and evil, God and the devil. In the end God prevails, human order is restored, and the couple will marry happily after one year of probation. Neither the text nor the music aims at opening up a higher realm; the protagonists are not changed by their encounters with the demonic powers. Nothing seems to threaten the couple’s happy union after one year, an outcome almost unthinkable in a Hoffmannesque world, in which protagonists for the most part do not survive their exposure to the supernatural. In Hoffmann’s most famous tale, Der goldne Topf, for example, the protagonist Anselmus finally ends up on his estate in Atlantis, happily united with Serpentina, but his new life is nothing more than a life in poetry, as Archivist Lindhorst reveals at the end. Whether this means that he became a poet or ended up on the bottom of the river Elbe remains open to interpretation, but it is clear that Anselmus will not marry his former middle-class beloved Veronika. Nor will Huldbrand spend his life at Bertalda’s side in Hoffmann’s opera: From the perspective of the human world, he dies by drowning after offending the supernatural element or, in a more poetic interpretation, he dies a ‘Liebestod’ in the arms of Undine. The narrator’s prediction in Don Juan that Donna Anna would not survive her year of mourning in Mozart’s Don Giovanni represents a comparable case: After her encounter with her demonic seducer, she will not survive to become the wife of the mundane Don Ottavio. Although there is a probationary year in Der Freischütz as well, there is no reason to doubt that Max will marry his pure and pious fiancée at the end. Rather than being a protagonist ‘striving to ascend to higher things’, Max

79 In a letter to Kunz, Hoffmann called topics such as Freischütz ‘verbraucht’ (cliché). Letter of 16 January 1814, Briefwechsel, I, p.438. 430 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera was merely misled by dark powers, to be saved and brought back onto the right path by God’s hand in the end. Der Freischütz is not a Romantic work of art that alludes to the infinite, and in which protagonists undergo a transfiguration, as the early German Romantics, Friedrich Schlegel and Novalis, but also Hoffmann, envisioned it. With its peasant dances and marches, drinking and hunting songs, it was firmly rooted in this world, and Hoffmann may have especially disliked the snickering ‘he he he’ of the villagers (Act I, Scene 1, No.1), the ‘hussa, hussa’ (Act I, Scene 2, No.2) or ‘la la la’ (Act III, Scene 6, No.15) of the hunters, or the ‘Uhui! Uhui!’ of the invisible spirits in the Wolf’s Glen. Such numbers could not be further removed from that higher poetic realm where poets and musicians are ‘die innigstverwandten Glieder einer Kirche’ (‘closely kindred members of one church’) and whose words and sounds reveal to them ‘the ultimate sublimity’.80 The important role of couleur locale in the opera’s music found its counterpart in a wealth of imagery in the scenic design, which featured many allegorical requisites such as the ancestor’s portrait, the white roses, the bridal wreath, etc. If Max Maria von Weber’s account is true, Hoffmann’s sarcasm was primarly directed against such tangible aspects of the scenery as the wooden owl with glowing eyes, which were blinking in time with the music, the fiery carriage, and the hermit ‘dropping from the clouds’ at the end.81 These elements are in stark contrast to the symbolic representation that Hoffmann had advocated in his Seltsame Leiden eines Theaterdirektors (see Chapter Five) and the ambiguity created in his own Undine. Weber apparently favored a highly-realistic visual presentation of miraculous aspects, which led to disagreement with Gropius, who, according to Max Maria von Weber, wanted to evoke the eerie in the spectators’ souls solely through suggestion.82 Weber demanded a tangible visual equivalent to ‘the hellish spectacle’ of his music: ‘Machen Sie die Augen der Eule tüchtig glühen, ordentliche Fledermäuse umherflattern, lassen Sie sich’s auch auf ein Paar Gespenster und Gerippe nicht

80 “Der Dichter und der Komponist”, Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, I, p.759; Charlton, p.195. 81 Weber, Carl Maria von Weber, II, pp.317-318. 82 ‘Hier wollte Gropius die Schrecknisse aus dem Kampfe der Elementargewalten hergeleitet darstellen und das Gespenstische wie aus der Phantasie Caspar’s und Maxen’s geboren, auch nur durch Andeutungen in der Seele des Beschauers hervorrufen’. (‘Gropius wanted to represent the horrors as a result of the struggle between elemental forces and only evoke inklings of eeriness as if originating in Caspar and Max’s imagination in the spectator’s soul’.) Weber, Carl Maria von Weber, II, p.299. The Freischütz Controversy 431 ankommen, nur daß es tüchtig Crescendo mit dem Kugelgießen gehe etc.’ (‘Make the eyes of the owl really glow, and real bats flutter about; don’t be afraid of a couple of ghosts and skeletons. Just make sure that there is an effective crescendo in the bullet-casting scene’.)83 Such realism in achieving striking theatrical effects was more common for popular theater and other forms of mass entertainment that had begun to emerge in growing urban societies at the end of the late eighteenth century, and that may have contributed to the enormous success of Der Freischütz.84 Both the fact that Der Freischütz did not represent the genre of serious opera that Hoffmann had consistently tried to promote in his writings, and that this ‘Romantic’ opera did not fulfill his own expectations of Romantic art in either subject or in its musical and scenic realization, may have influenced Hoffmann’s decision to remain silent on the new opera rather than offend his friend.85

Political Implications

Apart from artistic reasons, however, political motivations cannot be ruled out in this case. The political implications for Hoffmann of a work such as Der Freischütz become clear if we examine more closely the aforementioned case of Friedrich Ludwig Jahn. In 1810, during the Wars of Liberation, Jahn had founded the Deutscher Bund, a secret organization whose objective was to defeat Napoleon and unite the separate German states. At around the same time, he had also started to educate academic youth in gymnastics (Turnen) in order to boost their morale and prepare their minds and bodies to defend their fatherland. The Turnverein movement soon became popular across

83 Weber, Carl Maria von Weber, II, p.300. 84 Anthony Newcomb relates Weber’s ideas for such stage effects to the phantasmagoria, which was first presented to the public in Paris in 1798 and soon highly popular throughout Europe, namely in Paris and London. Especially the Wolf’s Glen scene ‘takes us into a distinctively phantasmagoric world. The bullet casting itself brings an even faster tempo of appearance, disappearance, and change of scene, leading to the explosive conclusion: it is pure phantasmagoria’. (Newcomb, ‘New light(s) on Weber’s Wolf’s Glen Scene’, p.69.) Hoffmann was also fascinated by the phenomenon (as, for example, his last novel Kater Murr clearly shows), but in his own works for the stage and in reflections on stage design, he was more in line with Schinkel. 85 Hector Berlioz, an admirer of Weber’s Freischütz, pointed out in his Mémoires how the opera features ordinary people, and is accordingly composed in a more accessible style (‘d’un moins haut style’). Berlioz, Mémoires, I, p.117. 432 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Germany, and Jahn was widely known as Turnvater Jahn.86 After Napoleon’s disastrous Russian campaign, Jahn played an important role in setting up the Lützow Free Corps, also known as Lützower Jäger (hunters), a volunteer force in the Prussian army in order to fight against Napoleon.87 Out of these organizations developed the Burschenschaften (fraternities), the first of which was founded in Jena in 1815. Their members often held patriotic or liberal views, and many fostered ideals of a united Germany. Eager to restore the old order, the conservative Prussian and Austrian authorities were watching this promotion of patriotic and liberal ideas among their subjects with growing suspicion. When the radical student Karl Ludwig Sand murdered German dramatist August von Kotzebue, a pretext was found for massive action. In July 1819, a wave of arrests landed many so-called demagogues in jail, among them Jahn. The subsequent Carlsbad Decrees banned the Burschenschaften and Turnvereine, restricted academic freedom, and increased press censorship. After Jahn’s arrest, Hoffmann became involved in two cases concerning the Turnvater: Jahn had sued Karl Albert von Kamptz, head of the police department, for libel, and Jahn himself was suspected of demagogic activities. Kamptz had (anonymously) denounced Jahn as a revolutionary and demagogue in the Haude- und Spenersche Zeitung and in the Vossische Zeitung (15 July 1819).88 Although Johann Daniel Woldermann,

86 For a summary of the early phase of the Turnbewegung and Jahn’s ideas of ‘Deutsches Volkstum’, see Dieter Langewiesche, Nation, Nationalismus, Nationalstaat in Deutschland und Europa (Munich: Beck, 2000), pp.103-115 and Jörg Echternkamp, Der Aufstieg des deutschen Nationalismus (1770-1840) (Frankfurt am Main: Campus, 1998), pp.353-366. 87 Officially founded as Königlich Preußisches Freikorps von Lützow, the Free Corps was named after its commander, Ludwig Adolf Wilhelm von Lützow (1782-1834). 88 Kamptz was satirized in Hoffmann’s last tale, Meister Floh, as Geheimer Hofrat Knarrpanti, who accuses the protagonist Peregrinus Tyß of abduction. After it has been established that no one was missing, and therefore no abduction could have taken place, Knarrpanti replied that: (‘[…] sei erst der Verbrecher ausgemittelt, sich das begangene Verbrechen von selbst finde’. (‘once the culprit had been identified, the crime would follow automatically’.) (Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, VI, p.375; Hoffmann, The Golden Pot and Other Tales, p.298.) In his letter to Hippel of 24 June 1820, Hoffmann had already vented his anger at the illegal police practices during the persecution of demagogues: ‘[…] wie Du mich kennst, magst Du Dir wohl meine Stimmung denken, als sich vor meinen Augen ein ganzes Gewebe heilloser Willkühr, frecher Nichtachtung aller Gesetze, persönlicher Animosität, entwickelte!’ (‘You know me and may well imagine how I felt when I saw before my very eyes a whole web of incredible arbitrariness, impudent disregard of all laws, and personal animosity!’) (Briefwechsel, II, p.263; Selected Letters, p.298). A censored version of Meister Floh (without the Knarrpanti episodes) would finally be published in April 1822; the missing passages were not found until 1908, when Georg Ellinger discovered them in the Geheimes Staatsarchiv in Berlin. The Freischütz Controversy 433 president of the Kammergericht (Supreme Court), ruled that the case be dismissed, Hoffmann and his colleagues ordered an investigation and summoned Kamptz for questioning. Twice, Justice Minister Friedrich Leopold von Kircheisen intervened, ordering the court to stop the procedure. Arguing that ‘[…] auch die höchsten Staatsbeamte nicht außer dem Gesetz gestellt, vielmehr demselben, wie jeder andere Staatsbürger unterworfen sind’ (‘also the highest state officials are not beyond the law, but rather, like every other citizen, subject to the law’), the court referred the final judgment to the King.89 Friedrich Wilhelm III, in his Kabinettsordre of 13 March 1820, finally closed the case. As a member of the newly-established Immediate Investigation Commission, Hoffmann also took on the case concerning Jahn’s involvement in demagogic activities. As author of the opinions, his role must have been quite visible to his superiors, including the King. In his extensive opinion of 15 February 1820, Hoffmann argued that the Deutscher Bund had merely been an anti-Napoleonic organization, without revolutionary goals targeting the Prussian monarchy. Moreover, Jahn had given up his membership long ago and the Bund itself had ceased to exist.90 Hoffmann also commented on Jahn’s role in the history of the Turnbewegung.91 Turnen, a modern term for gymnastics, was born out of a patriotic spirit and Hoffmann quoted Jahn himself as saying: ‘Die Seele des Turnwesens ist das Volksleben und dieses gedeiht nur in Öffentlichkeit, Luft und Licht’. (‘The soul of gymnastics is the Volksleben, which can only thrive publicly, in fresh air and light’.)92 The physical training of young men was obviously also meant to prepare them for the fight against the enemy nation of France. Strictly speaking, Hoffmann noted, there was nothing wrong per se in preparing youth to serve their country; however, there was the danger that developments could go in a harmful direction. Believing they were special and above others, these young men could easily become pretentious or arrogant, and ignore law and order. While Jahn had gathered this new generation of Kraftmenschen around him, he was not the kind of man to keep them under control, Hoffmann assumed. When they were marching through the streets singing loudly, admired by the crowds, they might soon feel that they belonged to a chosen group of people. Hoffmann painted Jahn as an unbalanced, eccentric man, with paradoxical and somewhat

89 14 February 1820, Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, VI, p.970. 90 ‘Votum des Dezernenten’ (15 resp. 18 February 1820). Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, VI, pp.972-1067 (pp.974-1035). 91 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, VI, pp.1050-1055. 92 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, VI, p.1051.

434 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera deranged ideas. As an example he cited, among others, Jahn’s proposal to protect the borders of the fatherland by creating a desert, to be populated by wild animals as a defense against intruders.93 In none of Jahn’s writings and activities, however, could Hoffmann find any evidence of criminal acts and therefore, he concluded, Jahn should be freed immediately.94 Once the Minister of Justice was notified of this decision, a power struggle developed between the Immediate Investigation Commission, who insisted on Jahn’s release, and the Ministerial Commission. Once again the King himself intervened to put an end to the matter, after the Immediate Commission had offered its resignation.95 Although Hoffmann had no sympathy at all with Jahn or his views, he had defended up to the highest levels Jahn’s civil right to voice his opinion.96 Hoffmann’s prominent role in both cases had not made him popular among conservative officials such as the Interior Minister Friedrich von Schuckmann and Karl Albert von Kamptz.97

93 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, VI, p.1046. On 10 January 1818, an anecdote was published anonymously in Der Freimüthige, oder Unterhaltungsblatt für gebildete, unbefangene Leser, which most likely refers to Jahn. The anecdote features a Professor, seemingly of a wild character, who was a famous ‘Hüpf- Spring- und Schwungmeister’. (Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, III, p.915.) A visitor to the menagerie mistakes this professor for a wild animal. There is no certainty whether the anecdote is by Hoffmann, but it closely matches the picture Hoffmann painted of Jahn in his opinion. 94 Hoffmann, Sämtliche Werke, VI, pp.1066-1067. Hoffmann had communicated this view in 1820 in a letter to Hippel; He acknowledged ‘daß dem hirngespenstischen Treiben einiger jungen Strudelköpfe Schranken gesetzt werden mußten’ (‘that the hare-brained activities of some young hot-heads must be kept in line’), as Sand’s despicable assassination had shown, and that such cases would justify ‘auf gesetzlichem Wege mit aller Strenge zu strafen und zu steuern’. (‘to repress and punish by legal means and with all severity’.) But instead ‘traten Maßregeln ein, die nicht nur gegen die That, sondern gegen Gesinnungen gerichtet waren’. (‘steps were taken which were directed not only against the deeds but also against ways of thinking’.) Hippel omitted Hoffmann’s additional views on the matter when he copied this letter for Hitzig. Briefwechsel, II, p.263; Selected Letters, p.298. 95 Letter to Justice Minister Kircheisen of 18 May 1820 (Briefwechsel, III, pp.197-198). On 31 May 1820, King Friedrich Wilhelm III ordered Jahn to be transported to Colberg (Briefwechsel, III, p.199), where he was to stay until further notice. Jahn was sentenced to two years’ imprisonment in 1824 but was released one year later after appealing his sentence. 96 Jahn gave a series of lectures on German Volkstum in the winter of 1816/17. In a letter to Fouqué (3 April 1817) Hoffmann commented: ‘Gestern hat Jahn seine lezte Vorlesung gehalten, mithin für dieses Mal auskrakelt’. (‘Jahn gave his last lecture yesterday and is thus finished brawling for the time being’.) Briefwechsel, II, p.127. 97 This would become evident in January 1822, when Schuckmann and Kamptz immediately took action upon hearing rumors about Hoffmann’s mockery of the The Freischütz Controversy 435

The King and his court did not look favorably upon Weber as the famous composer of three volumes of patriotic songs entitled Leyer und Schwerdt. The most popular song of the second volume, set for four-part male chorus and titled Lützows wilde Jagd, clearly referred to the Free Corps of the Wars of Liberation. The title and topic of his latest opera certainly raised suspicions with the King and his circle as well, and was viewed as a work that could potentially stir up patriotic sentiment. The idealization of German folk life, and in particular of its hunting culture, was strongly reminiscent of the Burschenschaften and Turnvereine, which had been banned two years before. Hunters chasing through the woods, self-reliant men who trained and sang together in the open air and were admired by the people for their bravery and independence, had much in common with such previous male organizations. This problematic reminiscence cannot have escaped Hoffmann’s attention, and must have given him another reason to keep a low profile in the discussion of the work. Although he had staunchly defended Jahn’s case, he certainly did not want to be associated with any of Jahn’s ideals or ideas. The première of Der Freischütz had made it amply clear that the work’s divisive reception was caused by political rather than musical reasons.98 Hoffmann’s own writings, which for years had advocated serious opera underpinned by a cosmopolitan spirit, now made him suspect of having changed fronts to the pro-Spontini camp. Hoffmann must have realized that even contributions with an aesthetic or technical focus would be interpreted first and foremost in light of their political implications. In the current climate, an essay dealing with Der Freischütz could easily fall prey to politics. The fact that Hoffmann left the Olimpia review unfinished and his review of Der Freischütz unwritten seems to have been caused not merely by lack of time or dislike of certain aspects of these operas.99 Rather, Hoffmann completely withdrew from the discussion on the future of German opera, or more precisely, opera in Germany, the moment it turned nationalistic and hateful. That Hoffmann did not want to have his name associated with any anti- foreign sentiments is further emphasized by his handling of a request by the

pursuit of demagogues in Meister Floh. See ‘Die Affäre des “Meisters Floh”’, Briefwechsel, III, pp.217-272. 98 Relations between Spontini and Weber, for example, were cordial. Weber conducted operas by Spontini in Prague and Dresden, and after his death, Spontini conducted Der Freischütz as a benefit performance for Weber’s widow and children. He would also conduct the 200th Berlin-performance of this opera in 1840. 99 Michael Walter has suggested that Hoffmann could not have approved of Spontini’s musical setting of the last scenes of Olimpia. Walter, ‘Hoffmann und Spontini’, pp.103-104.

436 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera publisher Schlesinger. Schlesinger had sent Hoffmann a caricature of Rossini, asking him to provide an accompanying text for the Zeitung für Theater und Musik. Although he had sharply criticized Rossini in his Olimpia- review, Hoffmann returned the caricature on 7 December 1821 and added the following explanation: ‘Nach reiferer Ueberlegung habe ich gefunden, daß es meiner Stellung nicht angemessen ist über eine gegen Rossini gerichtete Carrikatur als Erklärer aufzutreten’. (‘After serious deliberation I have concluded that given my position it is inappropriate to explain a caricature targeting Rossini’.)100 In a discourse that was becoming increasingly xenophobic, Hoffmann apparently did not want to fuel any further hostile sentiments against the Italian composer. Hoffmann’s extensive but unfinished review of Olimpia therefore remained his last word on opera. In its dimensions, it matches the monumentality of the work under review. But does it also reflect its importance for the future of opera, as Hoffmann tried to suggest? Histories of opera have largely ignored Spontini, while Der Freischütz, as one of the first examples of German Romantic opera, became part of the canon. While Der Freischütz was celebrated as a national opera, none of Weber’s other operas achieved this status. Der Freischütz remained a singular success, and its impact on later composers was limited. Although much less successful, Euryanthe, which was inspired by Spontini’s Olimpia, would on the other hand greatly influence Richard Wagner.101 Hoffmann was therefore not completely mistaken in looking at Spontini rather than at Weber when deliberating about the future of opera. More important in hindsight, however, was Hoffmann’s insistence on a cosmopolitan opera, although he bet on the wrong work: Not Olimpia but Fernand Cortez, with its historical subject, strong couleur locale, cross-cultural love story, focus on chorus and ensemble, marches and other spectacular elements, was a major inspiration for grand opéra. Originating in Paris and developing during the 1830s, 1840s and beyond, grand opéra, with its most prominent composers, Meyerbeer, Auber and Halévy, conquered all of the major stages of the world. Even Wagner, who later chose to completely distance himself from Meyerbeer,102

100 Briefwechsel, II, p.331. A week later, another (anonymous) author provided a highly ironic explanation to the caricature, titled ‘Il Tambour Rossini’ or ‘die neue Melodie’, mocking Rossini’s noisy music. Zeitung für Theater und Musik, 1: 50 (15 December 1821), 197-198. 101 See Michael C. Tusa, ‘Richard Wagner and Weber’s “Euryanthe”’, 19th-Century Music, 9: 3 (Spring 1986), 206-221. Jürg Stenzl also emphasizes the influence of Euryanthe on Wagner, while Der Freischütz represented the end of an old popular musical genre. Stenzl, ‘Sieg der deutschen Musik’, p.219. 102 Especially in his ‘Oper und Drama’, Gesammelte Schriften, XI, pp.83-97. The Freischütz Controversy 437 was deeply influenced by grand opéra from the beginning and his own style was much more cosmopolitan than he cared to admit.103 Another inspiration that Wagner downplayed was that of Spontini, and studies into Spontini’s influence on Wagner’s works have only just begun.104 The history of opera in Germany was complex and evolved simultaneously in several directions, some more successful than others. The developments were much closer to Hoffmann’s cosmopolitan vision, though, than most opera historians in their efforts to construct a linear path, a ‘Siegeszug’, of German Romantic opera wished to believe.

103 Thomas Grey, ‘Richard Wagner and the legacy of French grand opera’, in The Cambridge Companion to Grand Opera, ed. by David Charlton (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), pp.321-343 shows how Wagner is indebted to the lessons learned from grand opéra up to his latest operas. Stenzl calls Wagner’s style at around 1840 a synthesis of Bellini’s Italian opera and French grand opéra of Auber, Spontini, and Meyerbeer. Stenzl, ‘Sieg der deutschen Musik’, p.219. 104 E.g., Anno Mungen, ‘Richard Wagners “grauenvolle Sympathie” für Spontini. Deutungsversuch einer erfindungsreichen Studie Wagners’, Die Musikforschung, 48 (1995), 270-282. Mungen shows how Wagner claimed as his own some of Spontini’s innovations in the seating arrangement of the orchestra and in instrumentation, and also draws attention to the fact that Wagner, although an open admirer of Spontini’s French operas, remained notably silent on Spontini’s works written in Berlin and was possibly hiding another source of inspiration.

Postlude

Hoffmann’s dedication to opera never waned, as his impressive body of contributions on this art form reveals, from his first literary publication to his final extensive review. Many of his essays on opera, moreover, were written on Hoffmann’s own initiative. Considering all of the pertinent texts chronologically and in the context of their original venues of publication— rather than as part of the story collections into which some of them were later incorporated—additionally demonstrates Hoffmann’s keen interest in the discourses and developments relating to all aspects of operatic production: libretto writing, musical composition, stage design, critical reception, and aesthetic discourse. His writings on opera complemented and corrected tendencies that Hoffmann encountered on stage or in the press, and he often felt compelled to communicate his insights in more imaginative ways than the traditional review. Although his contributions on opera covered many different aspects over the years, a few recurring themes emerge from these writings. First and foremost, Hoffmann bemoaned the prevalence of the comic genre on the German stage at the expense of serious works. In his writings on opera, Hoffmann consistently praised serious operas by Gluck, Spontini, and others and called upon modern composers to try their hand at the serious genre. Part of his critique also targeted the utterly unoperatic subjects taken from daily or family life that many composers chose to use, a critique which was at the center of the complimentary essays of Der Dichter und der Komponist and Kotzebue’s Opern-Almanach. Equally important to his advocacy of serious opera was Hoffmann’s emphatic insistence on the work concept. The idea that the work of art was an integral unified whole, not to be tampered with, was directed at opera performances that added or omitted arias and scenes as required by circumstances and singers’ demands, as well as at critics who judged a work based on rules rather than taking into account the music’s dramatic function in the context of the entire work. The idea that all of the elements of a work of art are organized in a unified whole was completely at odds with the operatic performance practice of the time, but persists in all of Hoffmann’s writings on opera, from his tale Ritter Gluck to his translation principles for Olimpie. The importance of faithfulness to the original score is evident from his in-depth study of the scores of the works discussed in his contributions and from the careful choice of pertinent examples in his writings, be they traditional reviews or narrative works. The integrity of the score also prompted him to seek immanent solutions for problems of interpretation rather than making any changes to the text or music. 440 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

A third element that was consistently stressed in all of Hoffmann’s writings on opera is the role of music in the dramatic action. In Hoffmann’s view, the music was no mere accompaniment, nor was its role restricted to expressing emotions or passions in arias; rather, the music should drive the dramatic action using its own means. Spoken dialogue obstructed the idea of the music carrying the drama, and moreover disrupted the flight of the listeners’ imagination. Hoffmann himself, however, did not abandon spoken dialogue in his own opera Undine, despite his strong condemnation of it in the Germanized versions of Mozart’s Don Giovanni or Méhul’s Ariodant. Critic and composer were therefore not always in agreement, a divergence that should caution us against reading Hoffmann’s writings as explanations or poetics of his own artistic endeavors. Hoffmann’s opera reviews and essays were not independent from contemporary institutional, cultural, and political conditions. Over time, the more general deliberations in the AMZ gave way to walking a fine line between praise and critique in commenting on the developments at the Berlin theater in the DW reviews. Finally, Hoffmann took a clear political stance in his defense of Spontini after Spontini’s controversial appointment as General-Musik-Direktor at the Berlin opera. An overarching goal of all of Hoffmann’s writings, however, was to promote and foster an understanding of the operatic genre, and of high and serious drama in particular. From his briefest performance review to his most lengthy essays and tales, Hoffmann’s underlying aim was to raise the level of composition, performance, and reflection in opera. As a result, many of his contributions are at odds with contemporary performance practices and critical currents, but they also act as a challenge to today’s prevalent narratives and categorizations of early-nineteenth-century musical life and aesthetics. Given his dedication to opera, Hoffmann cannot unequivocally be categorized as a proponent of aesthetic autonomy and the idea of absolute music. Although Hoffmann praised the Berlin stage for promoting German opera, his writings on the whole reveal no outspoken patriotic agenda. Operas by Gluck and Mozart are put forward as models, but the nationality of their composers is not emphasized; Hoffmann would even have preferred to hear Don Giovanni performed in Italian. Despite his anti-French and anti-Napoleonic rhetoric during the Wars of Liberation, and particularly after the battle of Dresden, he warmly welcomed Spontini, previously in the service of Napoleon, to Berlin. Hoffmann’s defense of Spontini was, in essence, a defense of the old cosmopolitan idea of opera, in the spirit of Gluck and Reichardt. A composer’s nationality was secondary, and the national style of composition was a matter of choice. Again, however, Hoffmann resists easy categorization, as some of his reviews show a clear influence of the idea tracing national differences back to ethnic origins. Such Postlude 441 notions, however, were never decisive in judging the quality and integrity of a composition, as Hoffmann’s reprimand on behalf of Meyerbeer exemplifies. While Hoffmann’s own Undine fits quite well into a narrative of German Romantic opera culminating in Wagner’s Gesamtkunstwerk, Hoffmann’s advocacy of Spontini does not. The fact that he did not write about Fidelio and Der Freischütz has naturally irritated music historians eager to construct a history of German opera as a collective national endeavor. In this regard, however, Hoffmann’s works serve as reminder that, culturally and institutionally, the notion of a German opera was often not a high priority. Neither theater managers and patrons nor the broader audience demonstrated the keen interest in purely German products expressed by certain vocal critics and subsequent historians. Hoffmann was, however, extremely worried about the state of opera in Germany, particularly in Berlin. In this sense, Hoffmann’s defense of Spontini therefore can be said to have been inspired by patriotic considerations. Hoffmann’s writings on opera not only challenge familiar narratives of aesthetic autonomy and of the search for a national opera, but also the prevalent narrative surrounding his own biography. Neither disillusioned with music nor less interested in it after finding his ‘true calling’ as a literary author, he continued to think and write about the true passion of his life and contribute to elevating its understanding and status. Ultimately, however, in the oppressive political climate imposed by the Carlsbad Decrees, he may have felt that his efforts had become increasingly counterproductive as he witnessed the growing appropriation of art, and especially opera, for political ends. Nevertheless, Hoffmann’s silence does not diminish his intensive critical appreciation of Spontini’s work in Berlin, which so strongly voices the enlightened cosmopolitan concept of opera at a time when it was no longer in vogue with most contemporary critics. Later historians, as we have seen, failed to hear Hoffmann’s cosmopolitan voice in constructing a history of German opera. It is hoped that the present study has helped to correct these earlier mishearings of Hoffmann’s stance in the opera debate and will stimulate further research into this extraordinarily rich body of early-nineteenth-century operatic discourse and its many complexities.

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Page numbers in italics refer to figures and musical examples. Opera titles are listed under their composers and librettists.

Aachen, 286n162 André, Johann, 38, 49, 55, 99 Abend-Zeitung (Dresden), 260–261, 404, Belmont und Constanze (Bretzner), 416 49–50 Abert, Hermann, 147, 414n43, 419 Erwin und Elmire (Goethe), 38–39 Accademia dell’Arcadia, 33n57 Anna Amalia, Duchess of Saxe- Ackermann, Konrad, 20 Weimar, 23n25, 32 Adamberger, Valentin, 49 Erwin und Elmire (Goethe), 39 Adorno, Theodor W., 414n43 l’Anonyme de Vaugirard. See Jean- Aeschylus, 88 Baptiste Suard Agricola, Johann Friedrich, 54–55 Apel, Johann August, 404, 420n57 Gluck, Alceste, review, 79–81, 89n71 Applegate, Celia, 28 Alexander I, Czar, 167 Ariosto, Ludovico, Orlando furioso, Alexander the Great, 365–367, 375, 75n15 384, 401 Arnaud, François, Abbé de Alexandra Feodorovna, Grand Grandchamp, 84, 89 Duchess, 356–357 Lettre de M. L’A. A[rnaud] à Madame Algarotti, Francesco, 33n56 D’[Augny], 78, 80, 88–89 Saggio sopra l’opera in musica, 33–34 Arnim, Achim von, Des Knaben Allanbrook, Wye Jamison, 140n61, 154 Wunderhorn (& Brentano), 238, Allgemeine Deutsche Bibliothek (Nicolai), 240n44 28, 44n101, 79, 81, 89n71 Arnim, Bettine von, 336n19 Allgemeine Leipziger Zeitung, 336 d’Arras, Jean, 240 Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung (AMZ) Athenaeum (A. W. and F. Schlegel), (Rochlitz), 14, 28–31, 65–66, 68, 181n74 73, 75, 83, 86, 96–97, 118–119, Auber, Daniel, 436, 437n103 127, 134, 136–137, 138n52, 159, August III, King of Poland (Friedrich 161–162, 165, 168, 171, 179n70, August II, Elector of Saxony), 186–187, 193, 204, 261–262, 264, 33n56 268, 293, 295, 300, 309, 340–341, 345, 348n54, 396, 407, 411, 440 Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung mit Bach, Carl Philipp Emanuel, 138n53, besonderer Rücksicht auf den 334 österreichischen Kaiserstaat Bach, Johann Christoph Friedrich, (AMZ_österr.), 396 Brutus (Herder), 37 Allgemeine Zeitung für Musik und Bach, Johann Sebastian, 13, 28, 37n76, Musikliteratur, 359 54, 138n53, 334, 375 Allroggen, Gerhard, 290n5 Bader, Carl Adam, 225, 354, 355n74, Alxinger, Johann Baptist, 62n156, 357 82n43, 107 Baermann, Heinrich Joseph, 192 Anderson, Benedict, 41n92 Bamberg, 64, 126–127, 161–162, 164, 166, 168, 214, 225n7, 232, 242, 480 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

253, 262, 286n162, 291, 293, 302, Bertati, Giovanni, Don Giovanni o sia Il 315, 324n85, 326n94 Convitato di pietra (Gazzaniga), Barbaia, Domenico, 415 155n83 Bauernfeld, Eduard von, 191n109 Berton, Henri-Montan, Aline, Reine de Bauman, Thomas, 56 Golconde, 228, 353 Baumgärtner, Adam Friedrich Beschort, Jonas Friedrich, 124–125 Gotthelf, 199n130 Bethmann, Friederike, 57, 72 Bayreuth, 162 Bierey, Gottlob Benedict, 241 Beethoven, Ludwig van, 10, 11n4, 13, Rosette, das Schweizer Hirtenmädchen, 136, 139, 165n20, 171, 189–190, 299n31 208–209, 225, 262n101, 270, 311, Bitter, Christof, 154 313, 334, 338, 343, 344n42, 364 Blume, Heinrich, 292, 302, 355n74 Coriolan, 30, 161 Böhme (publishing firm), 125 Fidelio (Sonnleithner/Treitschke), Boieldieu, François-Adrien, 194, 198– 36, 53, 189n103, 194, 228, 300– 199, 208, 227, 269–271, 350 301, 341n34, 408, 427, 441 Le Calif de Bagdad, 198n128 Piano Trios Op. 70, 30, 122 La Dame blanche, 198n128 Symphony No. 5, 30, 86, 111n122, Jean de Paris (Johann von Paris), 161, 168, 171, 201, 344n42 198n128, 270, 271n129 Benda, Georg Anton, 35–36, 49n115 Le nouveau Seigneur de Village, 198– Ariadne auf Naxos (Brandes), 35 199, 307 Medea (Gotter), 35–36 Bonn, 41, 125 Romeo und Julie (Gotter), 36n73 Borck, Caspar Wilhelm von, 23n24 Walder (Gotter), 36n73 Bordoni, Faustina, 25n28 Benedict, Julius, 407–408 Böttiger, Carl August, 404 Berger, Ludwig, 255n77 Boucher, Alexandre, 410 Berlin, 11–14, 16, 24, 38, 41, 47, 54–66, Bouilly, Jean-Nicolas, 59n148 71–73, 82, 85, 88, 96–100, 108– Léonore ou L’amour conjugal 110, 117, 123–128, 192–194, 218– (Gaveaux), 53, 189n103 219, 223–233, 238, 262–263, 271, Brandes, Charlotte, 36n70 281–282, 286–287, 290–291, 299– Brandes, Johann Christian, Ariadne auf 320, 322, 325, 328–338, 341, 350, Naxos (Benda), 35 352–354, 357–359, 366, 373–375, Brandt, Caroline, 262n103, 263 398–404, 406–413, 423–425, 440– Braun, Carl Anton Philipp, 165n20 441 Braun, Baron Peter von, 53–54 Berliner Abendblätter, 58 Breitkopf & Härtel, 28, 122, 125–127, Berliner Liedertafel (Zeltersche Liedertafel), 134, 176n55, 194 193 Brenner, Genovefa, 191n113 Berliner Singakademie, 82n45, 165n17, Brentano, Clemens 193, 334 Des Knaben Wunderhorn (& Arnim), Berling, Thomas, Das Donauweibchen. 238 Eine romantische Geschichte der Die lustigen Musikanten (Hoffmann), Vorzeit, 241n48 63 Berlinische Musikalische Zeitung (BMZ) Breslau, 124, 192 (Reichardt), 62n158, 82n44, 84, Bretzner, Christoph Friedrich, Belmont 96, 105–106 und Constanze (André), 49–50 Berlioz, Hector, 147, 415–416, 431n85 Brifaut, Charles, Olimpie (& Dieulafoy) Berry, Duc de, 365 (Spontini), 365 Index 481

Brockes, Barthold H[e]inrich, 19n9 Catel, Franz Ludwig, 256n82 Brown, Hilda Meldrum, 178, 344n42 Catel, Ludwig Friedrich (Louis), 256– Brown-Montesano, Kristi, 154 258, 302n35 Brühl, Count Karl Friedrich Moritz Catel, Samuel Heinrich, 237, 255 Paul von, 219, 223–237, 238n37, Cavalieri, Caterina, 49, 141 251, 253–255, 257n87, 262, 280– Cervantes, Miguel de, 281, 283–286, 289, 295, 301, 303, El coloquio de los perros, 166 310, 316, 320, 323, 329–333, 335, Don Quijote, 75n15 337–340, 352–353, 356–357, 366– Chantler, Abigail, 217n186 368, 395, 401–405, 421–424 Charlton, David, 11n4, 31n48, 178, Neue Kostüme auf den beiden Königlichen 199n130, 201n134, 297n23, Theatern in Berlin, 224, 228–229, 298n25, 364n99, 376n126 244n53 Chemnitz, 163 Burnat, Peter Ludwig, 223 Cherubini, Luigi, 53, 60, 62, 65, 99, Burney, Charles, 67n167 163, 194, 225n6, 227, 257, 267, Burschenschaften, 432, 435 269–270, 306, 330–331, 337, 419, 427 Les deux journées (Der Wasserträger), Caldara, Antonio, 47n111, 364 53, 60, 65, 163n13, 269, 271, Calderón de la Barca, Pedro, 64, 299n31 181n74, 228, 232, 284n150, 323– Faniska, 53, 65, 163n13, 225n6 325 Lodoiska, 228, 269–270 La Banda y la Flor (Die Schärpe und Chézy, Helmina von, 284, 404 die Blume), 63, 217n185 Christian Albrecht, Duke of Schleswig- La Devoción de la Cruz (Die Andacht Holstein-Gottorf, 17 zum Kreuze), 232 Coffey, Charles, The devil to pay, 23n24 El Galán fantasma, 284 Collin, Heinrich Joseph von, 62 El Príncipe constante (Der standhafte Commedia dell’arte, 47n112, 176, 324– Prinz), 232, 253 325 La Puente de Mantible (Die Brücke von Cologne, 246, 251n64 Mantible), 232 Congress of Vienna, 226n11, 227 Calzabigi, Ranieri de’, 34–35, 99 Conradi, Johann Georg, 17n3 Alceste (Gluck), 35 Contessa, Carl Wilhelm Salice, Der Orfeo ed Euridice (Gluck), 35n64 Liebhaber nach dem Tode (for Paride ed Elena (Gluck), 35n64 Hoffmann) 284–285 Carl Theodor, Elector Palatine, Elector Copenhagen, 20, 414 of Bavaria, 43–45 Corneille, Pierre, 22 Carlsbad Decrees, 227, 399, 415, 424, Cotta, Johann Friedrich, 168 432, 441 Cramer, Carl Friedrich, 27n37, 81–82 Caspar, Franz Xaver von, Der Frei- Cranach, Lucas, 255 schütze, 404n15 Critica Musica (Mattheson), 18 Castelli, Ignaz Franz, Der Hund des Der Critische Musicus (Scheibe), 20 Aubri (I. von Seyfried), 315 Der critische Musicus an der Spree Casti, Giambattista, 51 (Marpurg), 20 Castil-Blaze, François, 414 Csampai, Attila, 154–155 Catalani, Angelica, 225, 308 Cuno, Heinrich, 64n164 Catel, Charles-Simon, 194 Cupeda, Donato, 47n111 482 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Dalayrac, Nicolas-Marie, 60, 194 Draghi, Antonio, 47n111 Das schwarze Schloss, 163 Dramaturgisches Wochenblatt (DW), Dalberg, Baron Wolfgang Heribert 30n47, 127n16, 236n29, 237, von, 45–47 257–258, 265, 289–290, 292, 294– Dallapiccola, Luigi, 147 296, 298, 300–301, 303n35, 307– Dams, Saskia, 244n53 311, 315–317, 320, 322–323, 351, Danzi, Franz, 192 353, 440 Da Ponte, Lorenzo, 51 Dresden, 10, 25–26, 31–32, 33n56, 54, L’arbore di Diana (Martín y Soler), 65, 127, 161–170, 173, 194, 212, 51n121 213n168, 218, 226n8, 256n85, Axur (Salieri), 51n121 263, 279, 298, 302, 326n94, 327, Così fan tutte (Mozart), 51n121, 137, 403–404, 407, 410, 414, 415n44, 177, 201 418, 421, 435n98, 440 Don Giovanni (Mozart), 51n121, 60, Dresdner Liederkreis, 165n18, 404 119–121, 123, 131–134, 137, 139– Dreyssig, Johann Anton, 165n17 140, 155n83, 159, 208, 297, 440 Dreyssig’s Singakademie, 165 Le Nozze di Figaro (Mozart), Drieberg, Friedrich Johann von, Der 51n121, 137, 177 Sänger und der Schneider, 300n31 Una cosa rara (Martín y Soler), Duplessis, Joseph-Sifrède, 93–95, 363 51n121 Durazzo, Count Giacomo, 34, 48 Darmstadt, 218 Du Roullet, François Bailli, 77 Daverio, John, 178, 217n186 Iphigénie en Aulide (Gluck), 78 Dent, Edward J., 419 Alceste (Gluck), 79n33 Deterding, Klaus, 74n11 Dusch, Alexander von, 192, 404n14 Deutscher Bund (secret society), 431, 433 Deutschland (Reichardt), 62n158 Devrient, Eduard, 225 Eckardt, Hans Wilhelm, 16n1 Devrient, Ludwig, 225, 294, 319–320 Eilert, Heide, 324 Dichter-Thee. See Dresdner Liederkreis Einstein, Alfred, 419n54 Diderot, Denis, Le neveu de Rameau, Ekhof, Konrad, 20, 317 75n15 Eldridge, Richard, 132n31 Dieulafoy, Joseph Marie Armand Ellinger, Georg, 74n8, 108n119, Michel, Olimpie (& Brifaut) 432n88 (Spontini), 365 Elmenhorst, H[e]inrich, 18n6 Dittersdorf, Carl Ditters von, 51, 53, Engel, Johann Jakob, 56–57 177, 209 Ernst II, Duke of Saxe-Gotha- Doktor und Apotheker (Stephanie the Altenburg, 35 Younger), 51n122 Esperstedt, Johann Friedrich, 279 Dittmayer, Anton, 64n163 Eunike, Friedrich, 225n7, 355n74 Dobat, Klaus-Dieter, 75, 121n4 Eunike, Johanna, 225, 261, 279–280, Dobeneck, Friedrich Ludwig 297n23, 302, 353–355, 357, 405 Ferdinand von, Des deutschen Eunike, Therese, 297n23 Mittelalters Volksglauben und Heroensagen, 240n43 Doebbelin, Carl Theophil, 25, 38–39, Fasch, Carl Friedrich, 82n45, 375 ind-Eigenheer, Ruth, 239n40 55–56 Fassb Feind, Barthold, 18n6 Doerffer, Minna, 281 Felsenstein, Walter, 155 Doerffer, Otto Wilhelm, 63 Fichte, Johann Gottlieb, Der geschlossene Dotzler, Bernhard J., 74n11 Handelsstaat, 72 Index 483

Finscher, Ludwig, 130n26 329–332, 335, 352–353, 356, 401– Fischer, Joseph, 254, 279, 292, 294– 403, 424–425, 433–435 297, 299, 304–308, 310, 316–319, Friedrich Wilhelm IV, King of Prussia, 343n41, 355n74 335, 337 Fischer, Ludwig, 43, 49, 56 Frischmuth, Johann Christian, 56, 99 Flaherty, Gloria, 18n6, 21n14 Fleischmann, Friedrich, Die Geisterinsel (Gotter) 61n154 Galvani, Magdalena Willmann, 157 Florence, 329, 371n117 Garlington, Aubrey S., Jr., 178, 202 Forkel, Johann Nicolaus, 20, 78, 80– Garrick, David, 320n74 81, 84, 87–93, 95, 100, 104, 112, Gassmann, Florian Leopold, 48 361–362, 370 Gaveaux, Pierre, Léonore ou L’amour Förster, Friedrich, 254–255, 406, 413 conjugal (Bouilly), 53 Förtsch, Johann Philipp, 17n3 Gazette de Littérature, 78 Fouqué, Caroline de la Motte, 357, Gazzaniga, Giuseppe, Don Giovanni o 411n34 sia Il Convitato di pietra (Bertati), Fouqué, Baron Friedrich de la Motte, 155n83 66, 214–216, 219, 231–233, Gérard, François, 296 236n28, 253, 284n150, 357, 421 Gerber, Ernst Ludwig, Historisch- Thassilo (Hoffmann), 236–237, 301 biographisches Lexikon der Undine (Hoffmann), 214–219, Tonkünstler, 93, 369 231n3, 233–235, 238–242, 246, Gerstäcker, Friedrich, 164, 292 251–253, 254n72, 257, 261, 265, Gesamtkunstwerk, 10, 271, 441 271–273, 278, 280–282, 285–286, Girschner, Christian Friedrich Johann, 414, 421 Undine (Fouqué), 286n161 Franck, Johann Wolfgang, 17n3 Gleich, Aloys, Undine, die Braut aus dem Frankfurt, 38, 44n100, 123, 131n28, Wasserreiche (I. von Seyfried), 282 192, 218, 269n122 Gluck, Christoph Willibald, 13, 34–37, Franz, Johann Christian, 341 40, 47n111, 48–49, 54–55, 60–62, Franz I, Holy Roman Emperor, 65, 71–112, 95, 117, 177, 185, 47n111, 48 204, 205n146, 207, 209, 217n186, Franz II, Holy Roman Emperor, 52 225, 257, 259, 265, 270, 291, 293, Frederick the Great, King of Prussia, 294n15, 295–296, 311, 331, 338– 33n56, 54–56, 79, 82, 99 339, 342–343, 345, 351, 354, 362– Freiberg, 192 363, 370–374, 381, 394, 398, 425, Der Freimüthige (Kotzebue; Kuhn), 40, 427, 439–440 58, 318, 326, 328 Alceste (Calzabigi/du Roullet), 34, Freydank, Ruth, 229n18 37n78, 49, 54, 62, 79–83, 89n71 Friedrich August I, King of Saxony, Armide (Quinault), 54, 60, 62, 71, 26, 348n54, 403–404 76, 79, 82, 84–85, 91, 93, 96–97, Friedrich August II, Elector of Saxony, 110, 111, 112, 114, 116, 353–354, 25 311n49 Friedrich I, King in Prussia, 228, 302 La clemenza di Tito, 109n120 Friedrich Wilhelm II, King of Prussia, Echo et Narcisse, 37n78, 79n33 47, 56–57, 99 Die Hermannsschlacht, 362, 370 Friedrich Wilhelm III, King of Prussia, Iphigénie en Aulide (Iphigenie in Aulis) 58–59, 162, 167, 223, 226–228, (du Roullet), 37, 54, 62, 71, 76– 230, 248, 254–255, 281, 298, 310, 78, 79n33, 80–82, 88–89, 93, 97, 484 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

100, 102–103, 105–109, 114, 161, Versuch einer Critischen Dichtkunst, 22 294, 309–310, 336, 362, 370 Gozzi, Carlo, 166, 175, 200–203, 210– Iphigénie en Tauride (Iphigenie auf 211, 323–324 Tauris) (Guillard/Alxinger), Il corvo, 175–176, 201–202, 207, 37n78, 49, 54, 62, 65, 71, 79n33, 212–213 82, 85, 96, 105–110, 117 Graun, Carl Heinrich, 54, 82, 99, Orfeo ed Euridice (Orphée et Euridice) 138n53 (Calzabigi), 34n64, 37, 79n33 Grétry, André-Ernest-Modeste, 78, Paride ed Elena (Calzabigi), 34n64 194, 322, 427 Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von, 38–40, Grey, Thomas, 437n103 52n125, 61n154, 82n45, 175n55, Grimm, Jacob, Deutsche Sagen, 240n44 190–191, 223, 225–226, 232, 243, Grimm, Jacob and Wilhelm, 316n65, 324, 335n15, 387n133 Kinder- und Hausmärchen, 238 Claudine von Villa Bella (Reichardt), Gropius, Carl, 407, 430 39, 61n154 Grosheim, Georg Christoph, 86 Egmont, 165n20 Grout, Donald J., 419n54 ‘Einfache Nachahmung der Natur, Grunenthal, Friedrich Sigismund von, Manier, Styl’, 343–344n42 294n16, 295, 299 Des Epimenides Erwachen, 226n9, 228 Gubitz, Friedrich Wilhelm, 193, Erwin und Elmire (André; Duchess 319n72, 402n7, 407, 421 Anna Amalia; Reichardt), 38–39 Guerre des bouffons, 76 Faust, 228 Gürlich, Joseph Augustin, 238, 299, Iphigenie auf Tauris, 62, 228, 403 329, 353n69 Jery und Bätely (Reichardt), 39 Gyrowetz, Adalbert, 54, 192, 209 Mignon (‘Kennst Du das Land’), Agnes Sorel, 54 336n20, 387n133 Der Augenarzt, 54, 65, 161, 177, 194, Die neue Melusine, 241n46 299n31 Paläophron und Neoterpe, 223 ‘Ruysdael als Dichter’, 243n52 Scherz, List und Rache (Kayser; Halévy, Jacques-Fromental, 436 Hoffmann; Winter), 39, 63n162 Hamburg, 16–22, 23n23, 25n28, 32, Torquato Tasso, 407n22 41–42, 193, 410 ‘Über Wahrheit und Handel, Georg Friedrich, 17, 19n9, 28, Wahrscheinlichkeit der 75n15, 84, 92, 334, 338, 370, 375 Kunstwerke’, 40n87 Hanover, 17 Hanswurst, 47n112, 48n113, 51n123 ‘Von deutscher Baukunst’, 246–247 Hardenberg, Friedrich von. See Novalis Wilhelm Meister, 138 Hardenberg, Karl August von, 173, Der Zauberflöte zweyter Theil, 52n125 226, 228, 403n10 Gossec, François-Joseph, 107n117 Harmonischer Verein, 31, 192, 262n141 Gotha, 32, 35–36, 45 Härtel, Gottfried Christoph, 28, 161– Gotter, Friedrich Wilhelm, 61n154, 162, 164, 266 175n55 Harten, Ulrike, 303n35 Die Geisterinsel (Fleischmann; Hasse, Johann Adolf, 25n28, 82, 99, Reichardt), 61n154 138n53, 338, 370 Medea (Benda), 35–36 Haude- und Spenersche Zeitung, 58, 236, Romeo und Julie (Benda), 36n73 256n85, 311, 432 Walder (Benda), 36n73 Haydn, Franz Joseph, 13, 138n53, 192, Gottsched, Johann Christoph, 21–23, 270, 334 34, 41, 48n113 Index 485

Haydn, Michael, 192 Hoffmann, Ernst Theodor Amadeus Heckmann, Herbert, 73n4 (Wilhelm), 10–16, 25, 30–31, 39– Heidelberg, 194 41, 63–68, 86–89, 98, 126–129, Heine, Heinrich, 410 161–168, 214–219, 231–238, 246, Briefe aus Berlin. Zweyter Brief, 410– 249–254, 279–287, 300–301, 337– 414, 424 341, 366–369, 407, 420–437, 439– Heinrich of Prussia, Prince, 224 441 Heinse, Wilhelm, Hildegard von —OPERAS Hohenthal, 89n68, 360 Aurora (Holbein), 64 Hell, Theodor (pseud. Karl Winkler), Dirna (melodrama) (Soden), 64 165, 404 Faustina (Hoffmann), 217n185 Henderson, Donald, 423n65 Liebe und Eifersucht (Die Schärpe und Hensler, Karl Friedrich, Das die Blume ) (Calderón/A. W. Donauweibchen (Kauer), 241–242 Schlegel/Hoffmann), 63, 217n185 Henze-Döhring, Sabine, 419n54 Der Liebhaber nach dem Tode Herder, Johann Gottfried, 36–38, 51, (Calderón/Contessa) (fragment?/ 137, 182, 209, 223 lost), 283–285 Adrastea, 179–180 Die lustigen Musikanten (Brentano), Brutus (J. C. F. Bach), 37 63 ‘Ob Malerei oder Tonkunst eine Die Maske (Hoffmann), 63, größere Wirkung gewähre?’, 217n185 38n79 Der Renegat (Hoffmann), 217n185 ‘Olla Potrida’, 38n81 Scherz, List und Rache (Goethe/ ‘Tanz und Melodrama’, 38n79 Hoffmann), 39, 63n162 ‘Ueber die Oper’, 38n80 Der Trank der Unsterblichkeit (Soden), Herklots, Carl Alexander, 59, 298, 366 64 Heuschkel, Johann Peter, 192 Undine (Fouqué), 10, 12–13, 31, 62, Hiller, Friedrich Adam, 241 64, 66, 165, 169, 178, 200, 204, Hiller, Johann Adam, 16, 24–27, 214–219, 225n7, 228, 230–287, 33n56, 38, 55 273–278, 299–301, 303–304, 310– Die Jagd (Weiße), 23, 65 311, 316, 403, 414, 418, 420–422, Liebe auf dem Lande (Weiße), 23 424, 426–427, 429–430, 440–441 Lottchen am Hofe (Weiße), 23 —OTHER COMPOSITIONS Der Teufel ist los (Weiße), 23 Deutschlands Triumph im Siege bey Himmel, Friedrich Heinrich, 59n148, Leipzig, 199. See also Vollweiler, 99, 201n134, 269n124 Arnulph Fanchon, das Leyermädchen Die Pilgerin (Hoffmann), 217n185 (Kotzebue), 59–60, 72 Thassilo (Fouqué), 236–237, 238n35, Die Sylphen (Gozzi), 201n134 255, 271, 301 Hippel, Theodor Gottlieb von, 63, 126, Wiedersehn! (Hoffmann), 217n185 162, 173, 218, 231, 233, 253, 258, —WRITINGS ON OPERA 284, 310, 368, 425, 432n88, Der Dichter und der Komponist, 10, 30, 434n94 66, 159, 165, 168–188, 194–196, Historisch-biographisches Lexikon der 198, 200–204, 208–214, 217, 325, Tonkünstler (Gerber), 93, 369 343n39, 351, 361, 439 Hitzig, Julius Eduard, 63, 64n164, 167, Don Juan, 30, 65, 98n97, 117–159, 175n55, 215–216, 218, 251, 283, 203, 208, 265, 273, 296–298, 306, 285n154, 313, 314n62, 324n85, 309, 315, 339, 355, 361, 369, 429 421–423, 434n94 486 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Der Opern-Almanach des Herrn A. von Winter, Das unterbrochene Opferfest, Kotzebue, 66, 186–189, 311, 439 290–292, 299–300, 304, 349n58 Ritter Gluck, 14, 30, 64n164, 65, 68, —OTHER MUSIC REVIEWS 71–119, 134, 139, 155, 265, 296, Beethoven, Coriolan Overture, 30, 319, 354, 361–363, 365, 381, 439 161 Über einen Ausspruch Sachini’s, 66, Beethoven, Mass in C major, 165n20 165, 203–208, 345–348, 363, 374 Beethoven, Music to Goethe’s —OPERA REVIEWS Egmont, 165n20 Boieldieu, Le Nouveau Seigneur de Beethoven, Piano Trios Op. 70, 30, Village (Der neue Gutsherr), 198– 122 200, 208, 307, 350 Beethoven, Symphonie No. 5, 86, Gluck, Iphigénie en Aulide, 86–87, 111n122, 161, 171, 201, 344n42 161, 294, 309–310 Braun, Carl Anton Philipp, Gyrowetz, Der Augenarzt, 161, 194, Symphonie No. 4, 165n20 196, 299n31 Concert for the King (Spontini, Nachträgliche Bemerkungen (Spontini, Preußischer Volksgesang; Berton, Olimpia), 14, 67, 87–88, 350, 365, Aline), 352–353 368–399, 408, 425–426, 435–436 Reichardt, Grande Sonate pour le Paer, Sofonisba, 161, 293–294, 310 Pianoforte, 30, 165n20 Weigl, Das Waisenhaus, 161, 194– Schneider, Sonata for Piano Four- 197, 309–310 hands Op. 29, 30 —OPERA PERFORMANCE REVIEWS Spohr, Symphony No. 1, 30, 161 Bescheidene Bemerkung (Mozart, Don Spontini, Lalla Rûkh (Festspiel), 356– Giovanni (Don Juan)), 127, 354–356 359 Briefe über Tonkunst in Berlin Wilms, Jan Willem, Symphonie Op. (Concert by B. Romberg; 23, 165n20 Sacchini, Œdipe à Colonne; —OTHER WRITINGS ON MUSIC AND/OR Spontini, Fernand Cortez), 30, THEATER 31n48, 208, 341–351, 363 Alte und neue Kirchenmusik, 31, 92, Gluck, Armide, 311n49, 353–354 165, 363–365 Méhul, Ariodant, 301n33, 305–309, Gruß an Spontini, 337–338, 352, 423 363n93, 368, 440 Die Kunstverwandten, 290, 303n35, Mozart, Don Giovanni, 127–129, 315–320, 322, 325 158, 296–300, 306, 308–309, 368 Der Musikfeind, 165 Mozart, Die Zauberflöte, 302, 304, Nachricht von einem gebildeten jungen 308, 321 Mann, 165 Paer, Camilla, 290, 292–295, 300 Observations on Quaisin’s Le Rüge (Méhul, Joseph; Meyerbeer, Jugement de Salomon, 40n91 Emma di Resburgo), 325–328, 441 Schreiben eines Klostergeistlichen an Sacchini, Œdipe à Colonne (Oedip auf seinen Freund in der Haupstadt, 40– Kolonos) (1815); 290, 295–296, 41 300, 309 (1816); 304–305, 309 Seltsame Leiden eines Theaterdirektors, Schmidt, Die Alpenhütte, 311–314 319–325, 349, 430 Schmidt, Das Fischermädchen, 313– Ueber die Aufführung der Schauspiele des 314 Calderon, 232, 325 Spontini, La Vestale (Die Vestalin), Zufällige Gedanken beim Erscheinen 307–308, 351 dieser Blätter, 359–365, 369, 373 Weber, B. A., Sulmalle, 290, 298– —OTHER (LITERARY) WORKS 300, 314 Die Automate, 31, 166 Index 487

Der Baron von B., 31, 341n34 ‘Die Mannheimer Bühne Caricatures, 63n162; anti- betreffend’, 57–58 Napoleonic, 168, 199n130 Isouard, Nicoló, 194 Die Elixiere des Teufels, 167, 301 Joconde, 311n49 Fantasiestücke in Callot’s Manier, 30, 72, 106, 162, 166–167, 204, 265 Der goldne Topf (The Golden Pot), Jahn, Friedrich Ludwig, 424, 431–435 166–167, 212–214, 241n46, 242, Jahn, Otto, 139n56 429 Jähns, Friedrich Wilhelm, 418 Höchst zerstreute Gedanken, 343n39 Jean Paul (Johann Paul Friedrich Kreisleriana, 30, 31n48, 117n134, Richter), 39, 240n43 166nn21–22, 204, 265, 303n35, Hesperus, 113 343n39, 345 Joseph II, Holy Roman Emperor, Lebensansichten des Katers Murr, 426, 47n111, 48–49, 51–52, 135–136 431n84 Joséphine, Empress of the French, 329 Der Magnetiseur, 166 Journal de Paris, 78–79, 107n116 Meister Floh, 396n140, 424–426, Journal de politique et de littérature (La 432n88, 435n97 Harpe), 78 Nachricht von den neuesten Schicksalen Jouy, Victor Joseph Étienne de, 399 des Hundes Berganza, 166, 265 Les Athéniennes, 335n15 Nachtstücke, 301 Fernand Cortez (Spontini), 335n15, Prinzessin Blandina, 166 399 Prinzessin Brambilla, 324–325 La Vestale (Spontini), 335n15, 399 Der Sandman, 301 Jüngere Liedertafel, 255n77 Die Serapionsbrüder, 30–31, 177–178, 210, 351n63 Vision auf dem Schlachtfelde bei Kaiser, Georg, 264n108 Dresden, 167–168, 172, 350 Kaiser, Hartmut, 120–121 er, Johann Nepomuk, 192 Hoffmann, Marianna Thekla Kalch Kamptz, Karl Albert von, 432–434 Michaelina (Mischa, neé Rorer), Kant, Immanuel, Kritik der Urteilskraft, 63n162, 161, 163 27 Holbein, Franz Ignaz von, 63–65, 161, Der Kapellmeister in Venedig (quodlibet), 218, 225n6, 232 300n31 Holbein, Hans, 255 Kapp, Julius, 417n49 Holzbauer, Ignaz, 43 Karl VI, Holy Roman Emperor, Günther von Schwarzburg (Klein), 44 47n111 Horn, Franz, 138, 139n56, 289–290 Karlsruhe, 413 Huber, Franz Xaver, Das unterbrochene Kasperle (Johann La Roche), 51 Opferfest (Winter), 52 Kassel, 415n44 Humboldt, Alexander von, Kauer, Ferdinand, 60 Pittoreske Ansichten der Cordilleren, Das Donauweibchen (Hensler), 229n18 59n147, 200, 241–242, 272, 278, Le voyage aux régions équinoxales du 282 Nouveau Continent, 229 Die Nymphe der Donau, 59 Hummel, Johann Nepomuk, 192 Kayser, Philipp Christoph, Scherz, List und Rache (Goethe), 39n86 Iffland, August Wilhelm, 45, 47, 57–63, Keiser, Reinhard, 17, 19n9 219, 223–225, 229, 324 Kienlen, Johann Christoph, 286, 424n68 488 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Kierkegaard, Sören, 132n31 Krones, Hartmut, 154 Kind, Johann Friedrich, 165, 402n7, Kühnel (publishing firm), 125 404, 421, 413n38 Kunz, Carl Friedrich, 162, 165–167, Der Freischütz (Weber), 404 199n130, 212–213, 216, 231, 234– Kircheisen, Friedrich Leopold von, 235, 351n61, 429n79 433–434 Kusser, Johann Sigismund, 17n3 Klein, Anton, 43–44 Günther von Schwarzburg (Holzbauer), 44, 45n103 La Harpe, Jean-François, 78–79, 81 Klein, Bernhard, 255n77 Langhans, Carl Gotthard, 58 Kleist, Heinrich von, 228 Laun, Friedrich (pseud. Friedrich Kätchen von Heilbronn, 64 August Schulze), 165, 404n14 Prinz von Homburg, 227 Laußmann, Sabine, 75n15 Kluge, Karl Alexander Ferdinand, Leidesdorf, Maximilian Joseph, 426 Versuch einer Darstellung des Leipzig, 16, 21–32, 36, 38, 46, 48n113, animalischen Magnetismus, 166n24 49, 65, 125, 161–166, 168–169, Knobelsdorff, Georg Wenzeslaus von, 199, 213n168, 218, 213, 286n162, 54n129 293, 302, 404n13, 413 Koch, Friederike, 421 Leo, Leonardo, 92, 364 Koch, Heinrich Christoph, Leopold, Silke, 44 Musikalisches Lexikon, 116n132 Leopold II, Holy Roman Emperor, 52, Koch, Heinrich Gottfried, 23–25, 32, 61n153 55 Lessing, Gotthold Ephraim, 20–21, König, Johann Ulrich, 18n6 46n106, 175n55 Königsberg, 63, 168, 256n85 Hamburgische Dramaturgie, 21, Körner, Christian Gottfried, 46, 48n113 255n77 Laokoon, 21n14 Körner, Theodor, 46n109, 174n49, Minna von Barnhelm, 21 254–255n77 Miss Sara Sampson, 20 Das Fischermädchen (J. P. Schmidt), Tarantula, 21n14 313 Levezow, Conrad, 289–290, 310 Leyer und Schwerdt, 174n49, 237–238, Libby, Dennis Albert, 350n60, 425 403, 407, 415, 435 Lindpaintner, Peter Joseph von, 332, Kotzebue, August von, 40, 46, 59–60, 335 198, 227, 312, 324, 432 Literaturzeitung (Leipzig), 193 Die Alpenhütte (J. P. Schmidt), 311– Lobe, Johann Christian, Gespräche mit 312 Carl Maria von Weber, 427 Deodata (B. A. Weber), 188 Lobkowitz, Prince Franz Joseph Fanchon, das Leyermädchen (Himmel), Maximilian von, 54, 190–191 59–60 London, 17, 28, 54, 204, 404, 414, 418, Octavia, 62 431n84 Opern-Almanach, 66, 186–189, 311– Lortzing, Albert, 335 312, 439 Louis XV, King of France, 77n20 Des Teufels Lustschloss, 187n99 Louis XVIII, King of France, 329 Krämer, Jörg, 44n101, 50n118 Löwe, Carl, 335 Kreisler, Johannes, 165, 204, 312, Löwen, Johann Friedrich, 20 313n54 Ludwig, Duke of Württemberg, 192 Kretzschmar, Hermann, 418n53 Lully, Jean-Baptiste, 76, 77n20, 79–80, Kron, Wolfgang, 408, 426 185n91, 331, 369–370 Index 489

Alceste (Quinault), 81 Ariodant, 234, 301n33, 305–309, Armide (Quinault), 79 363n93, 368, 440 Lützow, Ludwig Adolf Wilhelm von, Joseph, 270, 326, 403n12 432n87 Meier, Albert, 121n4 Lützow Free Corps (Lützower Jäger), Mendelssohn, Felix, 191, 286n162, 335 174n49, 238n35, 254n77, 432, 435 Mercure de France (Marmontel), 33n54, 77–78 Metastasio, Pietro (pseud. Pietro Magazin der Musik (Cramer), 27n37, 81 Trapassi), 23, 47n111, 130n26, Mahler, Gustav, 404n13 183, 186 Mahr, Justus, 74n11, 115n130 Meyer, Stephen, 291n8 Mainz, 41, 123, 125 Meyerbeer, Giacomo, 57n136, 192, Mannheim, 16, 41, 43–47, 52n125, 57, 327–328, 335, 436, 437n103, 441 59–60, 123, 218 Alimelek (Wirth und Gast), 194, 268 Marcello, Benedetto, 364 Emma di Resburgo, 326–328 Marchand, Theobald, 45, 52n125 Milan, 246, 327n96, 371 Marcus, Adalbert Friedrich, 161, Milder-Hauptmann, Anna, 225, 300– 166n24, 214n172 301, 304, 307–308, 353–355, 357, Maria Theresa, Holy Roman Empress, 412 48 Miller, Julius, 164 Mark, Julia, 161, 162n4 Miller, Norbert, 290n5, 425–426 Marmontel, Jean François, 78–79 Miltitz, Carl Borromäus von, 216, Essai sur les révolutions de la musique, 231n3, 233n14, 236n28, 237n33 en France, 78–79 Minato, Nicolò, 47n111 Marpurg, Friedrich Wilhelm, Der Mizler, Lorenz Christoph, 20, 22 critische Musicus an der Spree, 20 Molière (Jean-Baptiste Poquelin), 323 Marschner, Heinrich, 191, 269n124, Dom Juan, 123 335, 336n18 T. Mollo and Co. (publishing firm), Hans Heiling, 418 125 Heinrich IV und d’Aubigné, 269n124 Moore, Thomas, Lalla Rookh, 356 Der Templer und die Jüdin, 418 Morgenblatt für gebildete Stände (Cotta), Der Vampyr, 418 168, 192 Martín y Soler, Vicente, 51 Morlacchi, Francesco, 25n30, 26, 164, L’arbore di Diana (Da Ponte), 403n12 51n121 Möser, Carl, 334 Una cosa rara (Da Ponte), 51n121 Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus, 13, 28, Marx, Adolf Bernhard, 333 30, 38, 49n115, 50–51, 60, 63, Mattheson, Johann, 18–21 75n15, 88, 93, 97–99, 134–139, Critica Musica, 18 163, 179–180, 189, 205, 207–209, Der musicalische Patriot, 19 227, 257, 259, 265, 270, 291, 293, Die neueste Untersuchung der Singspiele, 311, 334, 338–339, 343, 364, 371– 19 374, 408, 440 Der Vernünfftler, 18n7 La Clemenza di Tito (Titus), 60– Maximilian I, Elector of Bavaria, 45 61n153, 62, 136, 159 Mayerhofer, Gottfried, 404n15 Così fan tutte (Mädchentreue) (Da Mazurowicz, Ulrich, 35n69 Ponte), 51n121, 53n126, 137, 177, Méhul, Étienne Nicolas, 60, 99, 163, 201 194, 227, 269–271, 305–306, 328, Don Giovanni (Don Juan) (Da Ponte), 419, 427 46, 51n121, 53n126, 60, 65, 96–

490 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

98, 118–159, 143–146, 148–152, Neefe, Christian Gottlob, 123, 125 208, 217n186, 269n122, 273, 290, Neuber, Friederike Caroline, 22, 23n23 296–298, 300, 302, 304, 306, 308– Neu eröffnete musikalische Bibliothek 309, 315, 336, 339, 354–356, 368, (Mizler), 20, 22 371, 384–385, 429, 440 Neukomm, Sigismund von, 225n6 Die Entführung aus dem Serail Neumann, Gerhard, 75n14 (Stephanie the Younger), 43, 49– Newcomb, Anthony, 431n84 50, 53n126, 65, 135, 195n121, New Orleans, 414 269, 299n31 New York, 414 Le Nozze di Figaro (Die Hochzeit des Nicholas Pavlovich (Nicholas I of Figaro) (Da Ponte), 46, 51n121, Russia), 356, 401 53n126, 137, 177 Nicolai, Friedrich, 28 Requiem, 29–30 Niemtschek, Franz, 371n117 Die Zauberflöte (Schikaneder), 52, Nissen, Georg Nikolaus von, 139n56 53n126, 56, 59–61, 65, 82, 136, Novalis (Friedrich von Hardenberg), 159, 163n13, 179, 195, 201, 203, 63, 430 210–211, 213n168, 217n186, 228, Die Lehrlinge zu Saïs, 239n40 230, 234–235, 273, 302–304, 321 Müller, August Eberhard, 125 Müller, Hans von, 73 Oesterle, Günter, 75 Müller, Wenzel, 209, 241 Ossian, Temora: An Ancient Epic Poem, Die Schwestern von Prag, 177 298 Das Sonntagskind, 177 Müller, Wilhelm, 261, 282 Padua, 204 Mungen, Anno, 336n19, 373n122, Paer, Ferdinando, 54, 163–164, 296, 437n104 330 Munich, 41, 45, 52n125, 192, 262n102, Achille, 294 282, 291, 334, 414 Camilla, 290, 292–295, 300, 310 Die Musen, 232 Sargino, 164 Der musicalische Patriot (Mattheson), 19 Sofonisba, 161, 293–294, 310 Musikalisch-Kritische Bibliothek (Forkel), Palermo, 329 20, 78, 80, 89 Palestrina, Giovanni Pierluigi da, 92, Musikalische Gesellschaft (Warsaw), 63 364 Musikalische Monathsschrift (Reichardt), Pálffy, Count Ferdinand, 54, 189 62n158 Paracelsus, Liber de nymphis, sylphis, Musikalisches Kunstmagazin (Reichardt), pygmaeis et salamandris et de caeteris 62n158, 81, 93 spiritibus, 240 Musikalisches Wochenblatt (Reichardt), Pariati, Pietro, 47n111 62n158 Paris, 28, 37, 53, 60n150, 76–79, 81, 84–85, 99, 101, 107, 109n121, Nägeli, Hans Georg, 29, 136–137 204, 205n146, 224, 296, 307, 317, Naples, 78, 204, 329 329–330, 333, 337, 339–340, Napoleon Bonaparte, 53, 63, 72, 162– 348n54, 349–350, 353, 365, 373– 163, 167, 168n33, 169, 199, 208, 374, 396–399, 406n20, 414–417, 228, 238n35, 303, 329, 331, 411, 423, 431n84, 436 348n54, 349–350, 402, 404–405, Der Patriot, 19 431–432, 440 Patriotische Gesellschaft, 19 Naumann, Johann Gottlieb, 256n85 Paul Petrovich, Grand Duke of Russia, 49 Index 491

Pergolesi, Giovanni Battista, La Serva Reichardt, Gustav, 255n77 Padrona, 76 Reichardt, Johann Friedrich, 39, 55, Pfitzner, Hans, 286, 414n42 59n148, 62–63, 81, 84–87, 93, 96, Piccinni, Niccolò, 78, 295, 331, 343, 99, 101, 105–106, 165n20, 341, 370–371 376, 440 Didon, 177 Briefe eines aufmerksamen Reisenden, Pillwitz, Ferdinand, 164 55n131 Pixerécourt, René-Charles Guilbert de, Claudine von Villa Bella (Goethe), 39, Le Chien de Montargis, ou la Forêt de 61n154 Bondy, 315 Erwin und Elmire (Goethe), 39 Les Mines de Pologne, 53 ‘Etwas über Gluck und dessen Poißl, Johann Nepomuk von, Armide’, 84 Athalia, 269n124 ‘Etwas über Glucks Iphigenia in Der Wettkampf zu Olympia, 269n124 Tauris und dessen Armide’, 85–86 Postel, Christian Heinrich, 18n6 Die Geisterinsel (Gotter), 60–61 Potsdam, 56, 62n157 Grande Sonate pour le Pianoforte, 30, Prague, 9–10, 31, 97, 122, 125, 133, 165n20 141, 193–194, 246, 262–263, 268, Jery und Bätely (Goethe), 39 281–282, 403–404, 413, 428, Musikalisches Kunstmagazin, 62n158, 435n98 81, 93 Puttkammer, Eugen von, 337n21 ‘Ueber die Darstellung der Gluckschen Armide’, 85 Ueber die deutsche comische Oper, Quaisin, Adrien, Le Jugement de Salomon, 55n131 40n91 Vertraute Briefe aus Paris, 101n103 Querelle des Gluckistes et des Piccinnistes Reissiger, Karl Gottlieb, 26n33 (the Gluck-Piccinni controversy), Rellstab, Johann Carl Friedrich, 76–79, 84, 87–88, 317, 370–371, 109n121 411 Rellstab, Ludwig, 255n77, 335–336 Quinault, Philippe, 76, 185 Richter, Christian, Der erschaffene, Armide (Lully; Gluck), 79 gefallene und auffgerichtete Mensch Alceste (Lully), 81 (Theile), 17 Richter, Johann Paul Friedrich. See Jean Raaff, Anton, 43 Paul Racine, Jean, 22 Riedel, Friedrich Justus, Über die Musik Radziwill, Anton, 228 des Ritters Christoph von Gluck, 80, Rameau, Jean-Philippe, 76, 77n20, 80, 93n83 84, 331, 369–370 Righini, Vincenzo, 99, 341 Raphael, 137–138, 139n56 Ringoltingen, Thüring von, Die schöne Raraty, Maurice M., 178 Melusine, 240n46 Raspe, Rudolf Erich, 33n56 Robert, Ludwig, 422 Raupach, Ernst, Agnes von Hohenstaufen Rochlitz, Friedrich, 25n31, 28–31, 64, (Spontini), 335 98, 106–107, 117, 131, 135, 137, Rebenstein, Christian Gottlob, 292, 161–164, 168–169, 193, 261, 266 302 ‘Anekdoten aus Mozarts Leben’, Redern, Count Friedrich Wilhelm von, 30, 135n36 333n8, 335–336, 337n21, 401, 403 Der Besuch im Irrenhause, 73–74, 116 Reiber, Joachim, 404n15 ‘Bruchstücke aus Briefen’, 29

492 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Don Juan ... nach dem Italienischen des Schaul, Johann Baptist, Briefe über den Abb. da Ponte frei bearbeitet, 125– Geschmack in der Musik, 31, 135– 126, 131 136 Der erste Ton (Weber), 31n50 Scheibe, Johann Adolph, Der Critische ‘Ernst Theodor Amadeus Musicus, 20 Hoffmann’, obituary, 31 Schelling, Friedrich Wilhelm Joseph ‘Gedanken über die Oper’, 29 von, Von der Weltseele, 166n24 Hoffmann, Fantasiestücke, review, Schenk, Johann Baptist, Der Dorfbarbier, 106–107 53, 60, 65, 283 Mozart, Oeuvres complettes, review, Scher, Steven Paul, 101, 178 134 Schick, Margarethe Luise, 56, 292, 298, ‘Raphael und Mozart’, 137 341, 343 Romberg, Andreas, Der Rabe, 201n134 Schikaneder, Emanuel, 51–52, 215, Romberg, Bernhard, 238, 254, 279, 302n34, 321n76 299, 341–343, 349, 353n69 Das Labyrinth (Winter), 52 Rome, 33n57, 135n35, 204, 329 Die Zauberflöte (Mozart), 52, 195 Rorer, Michaelina (Mischa). See Schiller, Friedrich von, 40, 45–46, 51, Hoffmann, Marianna 59, 223, 294, 320, 324 Rossini, Gioachino, 54, 227, 327, 331, Die Braut von Messina, 40, 59 372, 394–395, 425, 436 Don Carlos, 223 Otello, 372, 395 Fiesko, 45 Tancredi, 395n139 Der Handschuh, 280 Rousseau, Jean-Jacques Die Horen, 61n154 Lettre sur la musique françoise, 76–77 Die Jungfrau von Orleans, 59 Pygmalion, 35, 62 Kabale und Liebe, 45 Ruisdael, Jacob van, 243–244, 248n60 Maria Stuart, 59 Norwegian Landscape with Waterfall, Die Räuber, 45, 225, 294 244 Turandot, 175n55, 192, 324 Rumph, Stephen, 117n134, 174n50, Wallenstein, 40; Wallensteins Lager, 211n161 Die Piccolomini, Wallensteins Tod, 59 ‘Was kann eine gute stehende Schaubühne eigentlich wirken?’, Sacchini, Antonio, 204–205, 295–296, 45–46 343, 347, 427 Schinkel, Karl Friedrich, 66, 223, 229– Œdipe à Colonne, 290, 295–296, 300, 230, 234–235, 248, 253, 302–304, 304, 309, 342–343 307, 308, 310, 321–322, 353, 354, Sachs, Hans, 240n46 367, 401, 431n84 Saint Petersburg, 28 Gothic Cathedral on the Water, 247 Salieri, Antonio, 47n111, 48, 49, 51, Hoffmann, Undine, stage design, 52n125, 99, 106–107, 192, 225n6 234–235, 242–253, 243, 246, 249– Axur (Tarare) (Da Ponte), 51n121, 250, 252, 260–261, 303–304 106–107 Méhul, Ariodant, stage design, 234, Salzburg, 192 307–308 Sand, Karl Ludwig, 432 Mozart, Die Zauberflöte, stage design, Sander, Johann Daniel, 62n156, 82n43, 230, 234–235, 302–304, 308, 321 107n117, 109n121 Schläder, Jürgen, 241n48, 287n164 Sayn-Wittgenstein, Wilhelm Ludwig Schlegel, August Wilhelm, 210–211, Georg, 226 217n185, 232, 324 Scarlatti, Alessandro, 364 Index 493

Shakespeare, Hamlet, translation, Schulze, Josephine, 129, 292, 298–299, 61, 64 301n32, 354, 355, 357 Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Schumann, Robert, 139n56 translation, 324 Schweitzer, Anton, 32, 35, 49n115, 55 Calderón, La Banda y la Flor, Alceste (Wieland), 32, 44, 45n103 translation, 63, 217n185 Pygmalion (Rousseau), 35 Vorlesungen über dramatische Kunst und Seconda, Joseph, 25, 161–163, 167, Literatur, 181–186, 202 173, 218, 404 Vorlesungen über schöne Litteratur und Seidel, Friedrich Ludwig, 329, 337n23, Kunst, 344n42 353n69 Schlegel, Friedrich, 63, 181n74, 430 Seidler-Wranitzky, Caroline, 225, 307– Schlesinger, Adolph Martin (music 308, 354, 412 publisher), 109n121, 193, 357, Semper, Gottfried, 26 394, 395n135, 395n138, 427, 436 Seyfried, Ignaz von, 241, 306n40 Schmalz, Auguste, 297, 304, 307, Der Hund des Aubri (Castelli), 315 355n74 Undine, die Braut aus dem Wasserreiche Schmid, Georg, 420n57 (Gleich), 282 Schmidt, Johann Philipp, 256, 265, Seyfried, Joseph Ritter von, 306n40 277, 299, 311, 409n26 Seyler, Abel, 25, 32, 35, 36n70, 45 Die Alpenhütte (Kotzebue), 311–314 Seyler, Sophie, 36n70 Das Fischermädchen (Th. Körner), Shakespeare, William, 61, 88, 138, 313–314 139n56, 181n74, 225, 323–325, Hoffmann, Undine, reviews, 256– 371 257, 259–262, 265 Hamlet, 61, 64, 138, 225 Weber, Der Freischütz, review, 409, Julius Caesar, 37 426 King Lear, 138, 225 Schmidt, Ricarda, 74n12, 89n68 Othello, 138 Schmieder, Heinrich Gottlieb, 123, Romeo and Juliet, 324 125, 131 The Tempest, 61n154 Schmucker, Johann Heinrich, 283 Twelfth Night (Was ihr wollt!), 324n85 Schnapp, Friedrich, 284n150, 395n139, Sieber, Caspar, 299 396 Sievers, Georg Ludwig Peter, Schneider, Friedrich, 25n30, 30 396nn142–143, 397, 398n148 Schnitzler, Günter, 75n18 Simrock (publishing firm), 125 Schönemann, Johann Friedrich, 20, Singakademie. See Berliner 23nn23–24 Singakademie; Dreyssig’s Schott, Gerhard, 17 Singakademie B. Schott (publishing firm), 125–126 Soden, Count Julius von, 40n91, 64 Schröder, Friedrich Ludwig, 125, Sonnenfels, Baron Joseph von, 48n113 175n55, 317 Sonnleithner, Joseph, 53 Schröder-Devrient, Wilhelmine, 225, Fidelio (Beethoven), 53, 189n103 226n8 Sophocles, 296 Schubert, Franz, 191 Spazier, Johann Gottlieb Karl, 82n44 Schubert, Gotthilf Heinrich von, Etwas über Glucksche Musik, 82 Ansichten von der Nachtseite der ‘Ueber Glucks Alceste’, 83–84 Naturwissenschaft, 166n24 Speyer, Friedrich, 64n163, 164, Schuckmann, Friedrich von, 434 166n24, 235 Schulze, Friedrich August. See Laun, Spiegelberg, Hartmut, 74 Friedrich

494 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Spohr, Ludwig (Louis), 191, 286n164, Strohm, Reinhard, 22n20 287 Strungk, Nicolaus Adam, 17n3, 22n18 Faust, 194, 269, 418 Stümer, Heinrich, 308, 354 Symphony No. 1, 30, 161 Stuttgart, 135n38, 268n122, 282 Spontini, Gaspare, 12–14, 66–67, 127, Suard, Jean-Baptiste (l’Anonyme de 208, 217n186, 225, 237, 287, 325, Vaugirard), 78–79, 84 328–359, 363–369, 372–399, 401– Süssmayr, Franz Xaver, 53 402, 406–409, 411–413, 422–428, 435–437, 439–441 Agnes von Hohenstaufen (Raupach), Tacchinardi, Nicola, 318 335 Tasso, Torquato, 135n38, 407, 423n65, Les Athéniennes (de Jouy), 335n15 425 Fernand Cortez (de Jouy), 194, 208, Telemann, Georg Philipp, 17, 19n9 329–330, 335n15, 342–343, 346– Der Teutsche Merkur (Wieland), 27–28, 351, 358, 369, 373, 399, 402, 33, 44n101, 81 411n34, 428, 436 Teutsch-übende Gesellschaft, 19n9 Lalla Rûkh, 356–359 Thalmann, Marianne, 213n168 Milton, 329, 422 Theile, Johann, Der erschaffene, gefallene Olimpie/Olimpia/Olympia (Brifaut & und auffgerichtete Mensch (Richter), Dieulafoy/Hoffmann), 14, 67, 17 339–340, 349–350, 363, 365–369, Tieck, Ludwig, 63, 100, 200, 404 373, 375–399, 377, 379–383, 386, Das Donauweib, 241 388–393, 401–402, 406–408, 413, Musikalische Leiden und Freuden, 422, 425, 426, 435, 439 412n35 Preußischer Volksgesang, 330, 352–353 Sehr wunderbare Historie von der La Vestale (de Jouy), 307–308, 314, Melusina, 240–241 329–330, 334, 335n15, 337n23, Das Ungeheuer und der verzauberte 351, 366, 369, 373, 399, 402, Wald, 200–201 411n34 Traetta, Tommaso, 48 Spontini-Fonds, 333 Trapassi, Pietro Antonio Domenico Stamitz, Carl, 113 Bonaventura. See Metastasio, Stampiglia, Silvio, 47n111 Pietro Standfuß, Johann Georg, 23n24 Treitschke, Georg Friedrich, 53 Stein, Karl Freiherr vom und zum Triest, Johann Karl Friedrich, 138, (Baron vom Stein), 226n11 139n56 Steinbach, Erwin von, 246 Turnvater Jahn. See Jahn, Friedrich Steinecke, Hartmut, 170, 178 Ludwig S. A. Steiner (publishing firm), 125 Turnvereine, 424n71, 431–432, 435 Stenzl, Jürg, 436n101, 437n103 Tusa, Michael C., 420n58 Stephanie, Johann Gottlieb, the Younger, 49–50, Umlauf, Ignaz, 49n115, 53 Doktor und Apotheker (Dittersdorf), Die Bergknappen, 49 51n122 Unzelmann, Karl Wilhelm Ferdinand, Die Entführung aus dem Serail 56n133, 128–129, 283, 297 (Mozart), 49–50, 195n121 Stöpel, Franz, 359n81 Stranitzky, Josef Anton, 47n112. See Varnhagen von Ense, Karl August, also Hanswurst 337n21, 402, 406n19 Strasbourg, 246 Varnhagen von Ense, Rahel, 422n63 Index 495

Vazsonyi, Nicholas, 67n168 Warrack, John, 419n54 Venice, 17, 204, 318, 327, 329, 225n8 Warsaw, 63 Verona, Bartolomeo, 55–56, 63, 223 Wauer, Carl, 254 Vienna, 16–17, 23, 34, 37, 41–43, 46– Weber, Bernhard Anselm, 57, 59, 85, 54, 57, 59n147, 60nn151–152, 61, 96–100, 106, 254, 284n150, 299– 62n156, 64, 72, 99, 109n121, 122, 300, 310, 314, 329, 354 124, 132, 141, 181, 190, 192–193, Deodata (Kotzebue), 188n99, 197, 218, 225, 246, 268n122, 272, 269n124 281n137, 282, 291, 309, 353, 370– Sulmalle, 290, 298–300, 314 371, 374, 404, 410, 413, 415 Weber, Carl Maria von, 10, 12–14, 26, Vitzthum, Count Heinrich, 403 31, 57n136, 165n17, 187n99, Vogler, Georg Joseph, 57n136, 192, 189n103, 191–194, 198n128, 262, 297–298 279, 286–287, 291–292, 332, 402– ‘Coro de’ mostri’ (‘Chorus of 404, 406–408, 412n35, 413n38, Furies’), 124, 298 415, 418–423, 425–429, 435–436 Vollweiler, Arnulph (pseud. E. T. A. Abu Hassan, 192, 403 Hoffmann), Deutschlands Triumph Die drei Pintos, 404 im Siege bey Leipzig, 199 Der erste Ton (Rochlitz), 31n50 Voltaire (François-Marie Arouet), Euryanthe (Chézy), 226n8, 404, 415, 43n96 436 Olympie, 43n96, 365, 366 Der Freischütz (Kind), 10, 13, 36, 62, Vossische Zeitung, 30n47, 58, 127n16, 67, 225n7, 228, 402–411, 413– 237, 255–256, 292n12, 310–314, 421, 426–431, 435–436, 441 318, 325, 337, 352, 355–356, 407– Incidental music to Schiller’s 410, 420, 426, 432 Turandot, 192 Vulpius, Christian August, 52n125, ‘Invitation to Librettists’, 193 Die Saal-Nixe. Eine Sage der Vorzeit, Kampf und Sieg, 262n102, 407 241n48 Konzertstück, 411 Leyer und Schwerdt (Th. Körner), 238, 407, 415, 435 Wackenroder, Wilhelm Heinrich, 100 Die Macht der Liebe und des Weins, Wagner, Gottlob Heinrich Adolph, 192 176n55, 235, 282 Oberon, 404 Wagner, Richard, 10, 13, 26, 67n168, Peter Schmoll und seine Nachbarn, 192 176n55, 271, 287n164, 418, Silvana, 192–193 419n54, 436–437, 441 Tonkünstlers Leben, 9, 192, 208n154, Die Feen, 418 264–265, 271 Der fliegende Holländer, 226n8, Das Waldmädchen, 192 413n38, 418 —REVIEWS AND INTRODUCTIONS ‘“Der Freischütz”. An das Pariser ‘An die kunstliebenden Bewohner Publikum’, 415–416 Dresdens’, 279, 308 ‘“Le Freischutz”. Bericht nach Boieldieu, Jean de Paris, 269–271 Deutschland’, 416–417 Cherubini, Les deux journées (Der ‘Gluck’s Ouvertüre zu “Iphigenie Wasserträger), 269, 271 in Aulis”’, 105n110, 105n112 Cherubini, Lodoiska, 269–270 Lohengrin, 418 Himmel, Fanchon, 269n124 Rienzi, 226n8 Hoffmann, Undine, 31, 262–269, Tannhäuser, 226n8, 418 271, 273, 277, 279, 284n150, 286, Walter, Michael, 363, 396, 435n99 420, 422 496 Hoffmann, Cosmopolitanism, and German Opera

Marschner, Heinrich IV und Wieland, Christoph Martin, 27, 32–35, d’Aubigné, 269n124 41, 43, 44n101, 51, 223 Méhul, Joseph, 269–271 Alceste (Schweitzer), 16, 32, 35–36, Meyerbeer, Alimelek, 268–269 44, 45n103 Meyerbeer, Emma di Resburgo, 327 Don Sylvio, 35n69 Mozart, Die Entführung aus dem Dschinnistan, 35n69 Serail, 269 Die Geschichte der Abderiten, 35n69 Poißl, Athalia, 269n124 Oberon, 35n69 Poißl, Der Wettkampf zu Olympia, Rosamunde (Schweitzer), 35 269n124 Versuch über das Teutsche Singspiel, Schaul, Briefe über den Geschmack in 33–35 der Musik, 31, 136 Wilms, Johann Wilhelm, 165n20 J. P. Schmidt, Das Fischermädchen, Winkler, Karl Gottfried Theodor. See 314n62 Hell, Theodor Spohr, Faust, 269 Winter, Peter, 39n86, 52n125, 295 B. A. Weber, Deodata, 187n99, Das Labyrinth (Schikaneder), 52 269n124 Scherz, List und Rache (Goethe), Weigl, Jugend Peter des Großen, 39n86 269n124 Das unterbrochene Opferfest (Huber), Weigl, Das Waisenhaus, 269n124 52, 60–61, 269, 290–292, 299– Winter, Das unterbrochene Opferfest, 300, 304, 349n58 269 Witzleben, Jost von, 330–331 Weber, Franz Anton von, 191n113, Wöchentliche Nachrichten (Hiller), 26–27, 192 33n56 Weber, Gottfried, 192 Woldermann, Johann Daniel, 432–433 Weber, Max Maria von, 406–408, 430 Wolff, Pius Alexander, 225, 232n6, Webster, James, 154 232n8, 320, 421 Weigl, Joseph, 54, 205, 209, 269n124, Wolff-Malcolmi, Amalie, 225, 320 310, 332 Wollank, Johann Ernst Friedrich, 421 Die Jugend Peters des Großen, 269n124 Wranitzky, Anton, 225n7 Die Schweizerfamilie, 54, 65 Wranitzky, Paul, 52n125, 192 Das Waisenhaus, 54, 161, 177, 194– Oberon, König der Elfen, 51 198, 269n124, 309–310 Würzburg, 64, 161–162, 218 Weimar, 16, 23n25, 32, 35–36, 37n75, 39–40, 52n125, 61n154, 64, 175n55, 223, 225, 232, 316n65, Zeitung für die elegante Welt, 58, 82n44, 320, 324, 335n15 165n17, 168, 336–337, 343n39 Weiße, Christian Felix, 23–24, 38 Zeitung für Theater und Musik zur Die Jagd (Hiller), 23, 65 Unterhaltung gebildeter, unbefangener Liebe auf dem Lande (Hiller), 23 Leser, 357, 369n111, 409, 426, 436 Lottchen am Hofe (Hiller), 23 Zelter, Carl Friedrich, 190, 193, 226, Der Teufel ist los (Hiller), 23 286, 334, 336n20, 409–410, Weisstein, Ulrich, 178 413n38 Wellbery, David, 121n6 Über Die Aufführung der Gluckschen Wellenberger, Georg, 170n38, 178 Oper Alceste, 82–84 Werthes, August Clemens, 175n55 Zeno, Apostolo, 47n111, 186 Wessely, Carl Bernhard, 56, 99 Ziolkowski, Theodore, 361n87 Zulehner, Carl, 125, 315n64