CHAPTER VII.

1877-1882.

PARSIFAL.

A German Art—Efforts to maintain the Acquired Results—Concerts in London—Recognition abroad and Lukewarmness at home—The “Nibelungen” in Vienna—“Parsifal”—Increasing Popularity of Wagner’s Music—Judgments—Accounts of the “Parsifal” Representations—The Theatre Building—“Parsifal,” a National Drama—Its Significance and Idea—Anti-Semiticism—The Jewish Spirit—Wagner’s Standpoint—Synopsis of “Parsifal”—The Legend of the Holy Grail—Its Symbolic Importance—Art in the Service of Religion—Beethoven and Wagner—“Redemption to the Redeemer.”

Dawn then now, thou day of Gods!”—Wagner.

“If you but will it, we shall have a German art.” It is true we had a German music, a German literature, a German art of painting, each of high excellence, but they were not that union of German art which floated before Wagner’s mind in his “combined art-work” and which found its first adequate interpretation in the performances of the Nibelungen Ring. His object was now to make it permanent and to this end he sought the means.

Accordingly on January 1, 1877, the invitation to form “a society of patrons for the culture and maintenance of the stage-festival-plays of Baireuth” was issued. At the same time the “Baireuther Blaetter,” which subsequently were made available to the general public, were issued in order to more fully and constantly elucidate the aim and object of the cause. Wagner had declined to acquiesce in a demand for a subsidy from the Reichstag, although King Louis had agreed to support such a measure before the Bundesrath. “There are no Germans; at least they are no longer a nation. Whoever still thinks so and relies upon their national pride makes a fool of himself,” he said bitterly enough to a friend. As far as the ideal is concerned he was certainly right in regard to the Reichstag as well as the people. “He who can clear such paths is a genius, a prophet, and in Germany, a martyr as well!” are the words of one of those who at one time had contemptuously spoken of this “Baireuth” as a “speculation.” And yet Wagner had to accept an invitation to give concerts in London to cover the expenses of this same “Baireuth.” By the distinguished reception the artist met there, the consideration shown for his art, the spread of his earlier works over the whole of Europe, he felt that foreign lands had understood him, the German. It must have been very bitter for him to feel that the Germans as a nation knew him not. Among the multitude of the educated, faith was still wanting. They courted foreign gods. If it had not been so would it have required seven, fully seven years, to obtain the moderate sum needed even to think of resuming the work, and in the end a contribution of three hundred thousand marks from His Majesty the King to bring it to completion? How slow was the progress of the society of patrons! People who, during the era of speculation had accumulated wealth rapidly, thought in these years of decreasing prosperity of something else than joining such an undertaking, and declared that they had to economize. And yet the annual dues were but 15 marks! Very singular was the answer of some whose rank or learning gave them prominence. They said that it was not even known whether the project had any real standing and they might therefore disgrace themselves by lending their names. Yes, when the bad Wagnerians dared to attack the tottering Mendelssohn-Schuman instrumental mechanics, Germans as well as others were induced to withdraw from the society which it had cost them so much struggle to join. Councilors of State and educators did not even respond to the invitations of the society’s branches which were now gradually organized in a large number of cities.

It was generally known that a new work was soon to issue from Wagner’s brain and soon everywhere from the Rhine to the Danube, from rock to sea, could be heard the Nibelungen! Wagner had, against his innermost conviction, consented to permit the use of the work by the larger theatres in the supposition that such personal experience of the “prodigious deed” would open heart and hand for a still grander one, the permanent establishment of a distinctive German art. Vienna came first. However excellent the performance of a few, for instance, Scaria as Wotan, Materna as Brunnhilde and the orchestra under Hans Richter, there was lacking the ensemble! The sensation of something extraordinary, of grandeur and solemnity, that in Baireuth had elevated the soul to the eternal heights of humanity, was not there. It was often as when daylight enters a theatre; the sublime illusion of such a tragic representation was wanting, and Wagner knew that in this art it is the very bread of life. “The art-work also, like everything transitory, is only a parable, but a parable of the ever-present eternal,” he said, in taking leave of his friends and patrons in Baireuth and his purpose now was deeply to impress the minds of his contemporaries with this “ever-present eternal” and thus make it permanently effective. The Holy Grail had first to give forth its last wonder!