Early Journal Content on JSTOR, Free to Anyone in the World This article is one of nearly 500,000 scholarly works digitized and made freely available to everyone in the world by JSTOR. Known as the Early Journal Content, this set of works include research articles, news, letters, and other writings published in more than 200 of the oldest leading academic journals. The works date from the mid-seventeenth to the early twentieth centuries. We encourage people to read and share the Early Journal Content openly and to tell others that this resource exists. People may post this content online or redistribute in any way for non-commercial purposes. Read more about Early Journal Content at http://about.jstor.org/participate-jstor/individuals/early- journal-content. JSTOR is a digital library of academic journals, books, and primary source objects. JSTOR helps people discover, use, and build upon a wide range of content through a powerful research and teaching platform, and preserves this content for future generations. JSTOR is part of ITHAKA, a not-for-profit organization that also includes Ithaka S+R and Portico. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected]. SHALL WE REALIZE WAGNER'S IDEALS? By CARL VAN VECHTEN ISTORIANS of operatic phenomena have observed that fashions in music change; the popular Donizetti and Bellini of one century are only suffered to exist during the next for the sake of the opportunity they afford to some brilliant songstress. New tastes arise, new styles in music. Dukas' generally unrelished (and occasionally highly appreciated) Ariane et Barbe-Bleue may not be powerful enough to establish a place for itself in the repertoire, but its direct influence on composers and its indirect influence on auditors make this lyric drama highly important as an indication of the future of opera as a fine art. Moussorgsky's Boris Godunow, first given in this country some forty years after its production in Russia, is another matter. That score contains a real thrill in itself, a thrill which when felt makes it just a little difficult to feel the intensity of a Wagner drama again: because Wagner is becoming just a little bit old-fashioned. Lohengrin and Tannhduser are becoming a little shop-worn. They do not glitter with the glory of a Don Giovanni or the invincible splendor of an Armide. There are parts of Die Walkiire which are growing old. Now Wagner, in many ways the greatest figure as opera composer which the world has yet produced, could hold his place in the singing theatres for many decades to come if some proper effort were made to do justice to his dramas, the justice which in a large measure has been done to his music. This effort at present is not being made. In the Metropolitan Opera House season of 1895-6 when Jean de Reszke first sang Tristan in German the opportunity seemed to be opened for further breaks with what a Munich critic once dubbed "Die Bayreuther Tradition oder Der mis- verstandene Wagner." For up to that time, in spite of some isolated examples, it had come to be considered, in utter mis- understanding of Wagner's own wishes and doctrines, as a part of the technique of performing a Wagner music drama to shriek, howl, or bark the tones, rather than to sing them. There had 387 388 The Musical Quarterly been, I have said, isolated examples of German singers, and artists of other nationalities singing in German, who had sung their phrases in these lyric plays, but the appearance in the Wagner r6les, in German, of a tenor whose previous appearances had been made largely in works in French and Italian which demanded the use of what is called bel canto (it only means, good singing) brought about a controversy which even yet is raging in some parts of the world. Should Wagner be sung, in the manner of Jean de Reszke, or shouted in the "traditional" manner? Was it possible to sing the music and make the effect the Master expected? In answer it may be said that never in their history have Siegfried, Tristan und Isolde, and Lohengrin met with such success as when Jean de Reszke and his famous associates appeared in them, and it may also be said that since that time there has been a consistent effort made on the part of the management of the Metropolitan Opera House (and other theatres as well) to provide artists for these dramas who could sing them, and sing them as Italian operas are sung, an effort to which opera directors have been spurred by a growing insistence on the part of the public. It was the first break with the Bayreuth bugbear, tradition, and it might have been hoped that this tradition would have been stifled in other directions, with this successful precedent in mind, but such has not been the case. As a result of this failure to follow up a beneficial lead, in spite of orchestral performances which bring out the manifold beauties of the scores and single impersonations of high rank by eminent artists, we are beginning to see the Wagner dramas falling into decline, long before the appointed time, because their treatment has been held in the hands of Cosima Wagner, who-with the best of intentions, of course-not only insists (at Bayreuth she is mistress, and her influence on singers, conductors, stage directors, and scene painters throughout the world is very great) on the carrying out of Wagner's theories, as she understands them, and even when they are only worthy of being ignored, but who also (whether rightly or wrongly) is credited with a few traditions of her own. Wagner indeed invented a new form of drama but he did not have the time or means at his disposal to develop an adequate techinique for its performance. We are all familiar with the so-called "Bayreuth" version of Wotan in Die Walkure which makes of that tragic-father figure a boisterous silly old scold (so good an artist as Carl Braun, whose Hagen portrait is a masterpiece, has followed this tradition Shall We Realize Wagner's Ideals? 389 literally); we all know too well the waking Brunnhilde who salutes the sun in the last act of Siegfried with gestures seemingly derived from the exercises of a Swedish turnverein, following the harp arpeggios as best she may; we remember how Wotan, seizing the sword from the dead Fasolt's hand, brandishes it to the tune of the sword motiv, indicating the coming of the hero, Siegfried, as the gods walk over the rainbow bridge to Walhalla at the end of Das Rheingold; we smile over the tame horse which some chorus man, looking the while like a truck driver who is not good to animals, holds for Brunnhilde while she sings her final lament in Gotterdimmerung; we laugh aloud when he assists her to lead the unfiery steed, who walks as leisurely as a well-fed horse would towards oats, into the burning pyre; we can still see the picture of the three Rhine maidens, bobbing up and down jerkily behind a bit of gauze, reminiscent of visions of mermaids at the Eden Musee; we all have seen Tristan and Isolde, drunk with the love potion, swimming (there is no other word to describe this effect) towards each other; and no perfect Wagnerite can have forgotten the gods and the giants standing about in the fourth scene of Das Rheingold for all the world as if they were the protagonists of a fantastic minstrel show. These are a few of the Bayreuth precepts which are followed. There are others. There are indeed many others. We all know the tendency of conductors who have been tried at Bayreuth, or who have come under the influence of Cosima Wagner, to drag the tempi to an exasperating degree. (Again the Master is held responsible for this tradition, but though all composers like to have their own music last in performance as long as possible, the tradition is just as authentic as the story that Richard Strauss, when conducting Tristan und Isolde at the Prinz-Regenten Theater in Munich, saved thirty minutes on the ordinary time it takes to perform the work in order to return as soon as possible to an interrupted game of Skat. However, I have heard performances of Lohengrin which were dragged by the conductor some thirty minutes beyond the ordinary time.) But it is not tradition alone that is killing the Wagner dramas. In many instances and in most singing theatres silly traditions are aided in their work of destruction by another factor in hasty production. I am referring to the frequent liberties which have been taken with the intentions of the author. For, when ex- pediency is concerned, no account is taken of tradition, and, curiously enough, expediency breaks with those traditions which can least stand being tampered with. The changes, in other 390 The Musical Quarterly words, have not been made for the sake of improvement, but through carelessness, or to save time or money, or for some other cognate reason. An example of this sort of thing is the custom of giving the Ring dramas as a cycle in a period extending over four weeks, one drama a week. It is also customary at the Metropolitan Opera House in New York to entrust the role of Brunnhilde, or of Siegfried, to a different interpreter in each drama, so that the Brunnhilde who wakes in Siegfried is not at all the Brunnhilde who goes to sleep in Die Walkiire.