That, Mrs. B—n, is your attitude. You want to understand the principles of Wagner’s Art. Good. But don’t make hard work of it. I have been all through the experience and I know what it means. I was a young worshipper at Wagner’s shrine in the years when Anton Seidl was making the Music Drama known in America, and Max Alvary, Lilli Lehmann, and Emil Fischer filled the leading roles. Night after night, libretto and commentary in hand, I sat through hours of Music Drama until I knew every measure intimately. I could tick off unerringly each individual motive as it occurred. Sometimes four or five of them would be going at once, but none of them ever escaped me. By and by I got tired of this academic exercise and then I made a wonderful discovery. I found that my labors had been unnecessary. The music was plain enough to anyone who was sensitive to music and who followed the drama attentively. I discovered this through a friend whom I took to the Ring of the Nibelung for the first time. He had not studied as I had, but when he heard the quick tapping sound of the hammers in Rhinegold he did not have to be told that it was the Nibelung motive. The heavy tread of the music of the giants was perfectly plain to him, and so was the mad galop of the Valkyrs, while the solemn measures that accompanied the gods across the rainbow bridge made clear to him the majesty of Walhall. At one time he turned to me and said, “I don’t know what the text books call that musical theme, but it means ‘Pleading’ to me.” The “Magic Fire” and “Slumber” music were eloquently expressive to him, and whenever he heard the ominous beat of the kettle-drum he exclaimed without hesitation, “That means ‘Fate!’”
Of course this is easy in the case of the motives that are musically descriptive of their subjects. But it is true also of those that are merely arbitrary musical symbols, such, as the motives of the “Wälsung Family,” or “The Compact.” Your attention is called to these motives at the time when they are first played and instinctively you associate them with their subjects when they are repeated.
“But,” you may say, “that is not the way to master the score. A commentary is surely needed.” A commentary is indeed a material help. But, after all, you will have to go to the music finally, so why not start with the music? It is simply a question of the best method of learning. The handbook and commentary method is like the old grammar and speller—didactic and dry. Wagner music is a great deal better than Wagner explanations. So, go to the music at once and follow it closely. A great deal that makes up Wagner’s Art will quickly become apparent to you. Intelligent, appreciative commentaries written by scholarly critical writers are valuable reading, after you have heard the music. A course of handbook study before you are familiar with the music is indeed, as you say, very much “like hard work.”
Sincerely yours,
W. D. Moffat
Editor