Beacon Lights of History, Volume 14 | Page 9

almost unprecedented event in the life of an opera composer. Wagner
conducted the second opera himself (also "Rienzi," after the first few
performances), and gave so much satisfaction that he was shortly
afterwards appointed to the position of royal conductor (which he held
about six years).
So far, all seemed well. But disappointments soon began to overshadow
his seeming good luck. The first production of the "Flying Dutchman"
can hardly be called a success. Wagner himself characterized the
performance as being, in its main features, "a complete failure," and the
stage setting "incredibly awkward and wooden" (very different from
what it is in Dresden to-day). Mme. Schroeder-Devrient was an
admirable "Senta," and received enthusiastic applause; but the opera
itself puzzled the audience rather than pleased it.
The music-lovers of Dresden had expected another opera _à la_

Meyerbeer, like "Rienzi," with its arias and duos, its din and its dances,
its pomps and processions, its scenic and musical splendors. Instead of
that, they heard a work utterly unlike any opera ever before written; an
opera without arias, duets, and dances, without any of the glitter that
had theretofore entertained the public; an opera that simply related a
legend in one breath, as it were,--like a dramatic ballad; an opera that
indulged in weird chromatic scales, and harsh but expressive harmonies,
with an unprecedented license. Here was the real Wagner, but even in
this early and comparatively crude and simple phase, Wagner was too
novel and revolutionary to be appreciated by his contemporaries; hence
it is not to be wondered at that the "Flying Dutchman," after four
performances in Dresden, and a few in Cassel and Berlin, disappeared
from the stage for ten years.
Although Wagner was now royal conductor, he did not succeed in
securing a revival of this opera at Dresden. His next work,
"Tannhäuser," was nevertheless promptly accepted. The score was
completed on April 13, 1845, and six, months later (October 19), the
first performance was given. Wagner had thrown himself with all his
soul into the composition of this score. To a friend in Berlin he wrote:
"This opera must be good, or else I never shall be able to do anything
worth while." The public at first seemed to agree with him. Seven
performances were given before the end of the season, and it was
resumed the following year; yet Wagner came to the conclusion that he
had written the opera "for a few intimate friends, but not for the
public," to cite his own words. What the public had expected and
desired was shown by its enthusiastic reception of "Rienzi," and its
colder treatment of the "Dutchman." But "Tannhäuser" was like the
second opera; in fact, even "more so." Wagner had outlived the time
when he was willing to make concessions to current taste and fashion;
thenceforth he went his own way, eager, indeed, for approval, but
stubbornly refusing to win it by sacrificing his high art ideals.
Here was true heroism, genuine manliness! Had he been willing to
write more operas like "Rienzi," he might have revelled in wealth (he
loved wealth!) and basked in the sunshine of popularity, like Meyerbeer.
But not one inch of concession did he make for the sake of the

much-coveted riches and popular favor.
Yet was not his next work, "Lohengrin," of a popular character?
Popular to-day, yes; but in the days of his Dresden conductorship he
could not even get it accepted for performance at his own opera-house!
It was completed in August, 1847 (the last act having been written first
and the second last), but although he remained in Dresden two years
longer, all his efforts to get it staged failed, for various reasons. And
when, at last, Liszt gave it for the first time, on August 28, 1850, at
Weimar, whence it gradually made its way to other opera-houses, its
reception everywhere showed that it was very far from being
considered a "popular" work. The critics, especially, vied with one
another in abusing this same "Lohengrin," which at present is sung
more frequently than any other opera; and they continued to abuse it
until about twenty years ago. "An abyss of ennui," "void of all
melody," "an insult to the very essence of music," "a caricature of
music," "algebraic harmonies," "no tangible ideas," "not a dozen bars
of melody," "an opera without music," "an incoherent mass of
rubbish,"--are a few of the "critical" opinions passed on this opera,
which is now regarded in all countries as a very wonderland of
beautiful melodies and expressive harmonies.
The non-acceptance in Dresden of this glorious opera, concerning
which Wagner wrote, "It is the best thing I have done so far," was only
one of many trials and disappointments which daily harassed him. He
was over head and ears in debt, because,