Wagner, during his stay at Riga, had become fully convinced that in writing operas of smaller calibre for the lesser theatres of Germany he was giving himself a futile task which stood much in the way of the realization of those reforms which had already begun to assume shape in his mind. He resolved to seek larger fields in writing a work on a grander scale. ‘My great consolation now,’ we read in his autobiography, ‘was to prepare Rienzi with such utter disregard of the means which were available there for its production that my desire to produce it would force me out of the narrow confines of this puny theatrical circle to seek a fresh connection with one of the larger theatres.’ Two acts of the opera had been written at Riga and the work was finished during his first months at Paris. Wagner sent the manuscript of the work back to Germany, where it created a friendly and favorable impression, and the prospects of an immediate hearing brought Wagner back to Germany in April, 1842. The work was produced in Dresden on the twentieth of the following October and was an immediate success.
It is Rienzi which marks the real beginning of Wagner’s career as an operatic composer; the small and fragmentary works which preceded it serve only to record for us the experimental epoch of Wagner’s writing. It is this place as first in the list of Wagner’s work which gives Rienzi its greatest interest, for neither the text nor the music are such as to make it of artistic value when placed by the side of his later productions.
The libretto was written by Wagner himself after the novel by Bulwer Lytton. The hand of the reformer of the opera is not visible in this libretto, which was calculated, as Wagner himself frankly confessed, to afford opportunities for the brilliant and theatrical exhibition which constituted the popular opera of that time. While the lines attain to a certain dignity and loftiness of poetic conception, there is no trace of the attempt at the realization of those dramatic ideals which Wagner was soon to experience. Everything is calculated to musical effectiveness of a pronounced theatrical quality and the work presents the usual order of arias, duets, and ensemble of the Italian opera. The music for the greater part is matched to the spirit and form of the libretto. Here again theatrical effectiveness is the aim of Wagner, and to obtain it he has employed the methods of Meyerbeer and Auber. Not that the deeper and more noble influences are entirely forgotten, for there are moments of intensity when the worshipper of Beethoven and Weber discloses the depths of musical and dramatic feeling that were his. But of that style which Wagner so quickly developed, of that marvellously individual note which was destined to dominate the expression of future generations there is but a trace. A few slightly characteristic traits of melodic treatment, certain figurations in the accompaniment and an individual quality of chorus writing is all that is recognizable. The orchestration shows the faults of the other features of the work—exaggeration. It is noisy and theatrical, and, excepting in the purely orchestral sections, such as the marches and dances, it performs the function of the operatic orchestra of the day, that of a mere accompaniment.
‘The Flying Dutchman’ was written in Paris and the inspiration for the work was furnished by the stormy voyage which Wagner had made in his journey to London. The account which he himself has given of its composition gives an interesting idea of his methods of working and a touching picture of the conditions under which it was written. He says in the autobiography: ‘I had already finished some of the words and music of the lyric parts and had had the libretto translated by Émile Deschamps, intending it for a trial performance, which, also, never took place. These parts were the ballad of Senta, the song of the Norwegian sailors, and the “Spectre Song” of “The Flying Dutchman.” Since that time I had been so violently torn away from the music that, when the piano arrived at my rustic retreat, I did not dare to touch it for a whole day. I was terribly afraid lest I should discover that my inspiration had left me—when suddenly I was seized with the idea that I had forgotten to write out the song of the helmsman in the first act, although, as a matter of fact, I could not remember having composed it at all, as I had in reality only just written the lyrics. I succeeded, and was pleased with the result. The same thing occurred with the “Spinning Song”; and when I had written out these two pieces, and on further reflection could not help admitting that they had really only taken shape in my mind at that moment, I was quite delirious with joy at the discovery. In seven weeks the whole of the music of “The Flying Dutchman,” except the orchestration, was finished.’
While one is prompted to group ‘Rienzi’ and ‘The Flying Dutchman’ as forming Wagner’s first period, in the latter work there is such an advance over the former in both spirit and style that we can hardly so classify them.
In ‘The Flying Dutchman’ we see Wagner making a decided break from the theatrical opera and turning to a subject that is more essentially dramatic. The mystic element which he here infuses and his manner of treatment are very decided steps toward that revolution of musical stage works which was to culminate in the ‘music drama.’ In its form the libretto presents less of a departure from the older style than in its subject and spiritual import; there is still the old operatic form of set aria and ‘scene,’ but so consistently does all hang upon the dramatic structure that the entire work is of convincing and moving force.
This same advance in spirit and dramatic earnestness rather than in actual methods is that which also distinguishes the score of ‘The Flying Dutchman’ from that of ‘Rienzi.’ The superficial brilliancy of the latter gives place in ‘The Flying Dutchman’ to a dramatic power which is entirely lacking in the earlier work. One important innovation in form must be remarked: the use of the ‘leading motive,’ which we find for the first time in ‘The Flying Dutchman.’ Wagner here begins to employ those characteristic phrases which so vividly characterize for us the figures and situation of the drama. In harmonic coloring the score shows but slight advance over ‘Rienzi.’ We can observe in the frequent use of the chromatic scale and the diminished seventh chord an inclination toward a richer harmonic scheme, but, taken in its entirety, the musical composition of the work belongs distinctly to what we may call Wagner’s ‘classic’ period and is still far from being the ‘music of the future.’
The success of ‘Rienzi’ brought to Wagner the appointment of court conductor to the king of Saxony, in which his principal duties consisted of conducting the opera at Dresden. Wagner occupied this position for seven years; he gained a practical experience of conducting in all its branches and a wide knowledge of a very varied musical repertoire which broadened his outlook and increased considerably his scope of expression. Besides the operatic performances, the direction of which he shared with Reissiger, Wagner organized for several seasons a series of symphony concerts at which he produced the classic symphonies, including a memorable performance of Beethoven’s ninth symphony on Palm Sunday, 1846.[109] Wagner threw himself with great zeal into the preparation of this work, one of his first sources of inspiration.