Lawrence Gilman

(Richard Strauss: born in Munich, June 11, 1864; now living in Berlin)

"FROM ITALY," SYMPHONIC FANTASIA: Op. 16

1. ON THE CAMPAGNA

(Andante)

2. AMID ROME'S RUINS

(Allegro molto con brio)

3. ON THE SHORE OF SORRENTO

(Andantino)

4. NEAPOLITAN FOLK-LIFE

(Allegro molto)

"Aus Italia," the first of Strauss's descriptive works for orchestra, was composed in 1886, a year in which the composer visited Rome and Naples. The score is avowedly programmatic, however, only to the extent of the titling of the different movements, except that the second, "Amid Rome's Ruins," bears this additional superscription: "Fantastic Pictures of Vanished Splendor; Feelings of Sadness and Grief in the Midst of the Sunniest Present."

Of the first movement Mr. Vernon Blackburn has remarked: "... the Campagna is absolutely destitute of scenery, its tragic secret lying, for the most part, too deep even for the modern explorer; its 'dim warm weather' is an attribute which exactly describes its general aspect of loneliness and locked quietude. These are the points which Strauss makes apparent in his music, and proves the constancy of that mood in the second portion of his Fantasia, in which he only completes the hidden tragedy of the Campagna—in the section which he has entitled ['Amid Rome's Ruins']."

In the third movement, "On the Shore of Sorrento," Mr. Hermann Kretzschmar finds (in the middle portion) a picture of the sea ruffled by the wind. "A boat appears, and in it a singer sings a genuine native melody, sprung from the noble sicilianos, which since the end of the seventeenth century have passed over Europe, journeying from the region near Sorrento." "The strings," says another commentator, furnish "a rich background for the sparkling flashes of melody which emanate from the other instruments, the whole being suggestive of a water-picture. The almost constant shimmer in the strings might easily be construed as a description of the restlessness of the ocean, over which the melodies of the wood-wind play like the glintings of sunlight."

In the last movement, "Neapolitan Folk-life," the famous song "Funiculi, Funicula," serves as the principal theme, announced by violas and 'cellos. "The finale is brilliant, tumultuous, audacious."

"'My desolation doth begin to make a better life.' Such," remarks Mr. Blackburn, "might have been the motto upon which Strauss has built the labor of this extraordinary work. He makes you feel through every bar how completely his musical spirit is oppressed by a sense of tragic thought which, if anywhere, is surely appropriate in the presence of the wreckage of that huge civilization which reached the zenith of its glory in the genius of Julius CÆsar."

"DON JUAN," TONE-POEM: Op. 20

This work is usually placed first on the list of Strauss's remarkable series of tone-poems; yet, though it bears an earlier opus number, it was actually preceded, in point of composition, by "Macbeth," op. 23, which was written in 1887, a year earlier than "Don Juan."

The subject of this tone-poem is the "Don Juan" of Nicolaus Lenau (1802-1850), and quotations from Lenau's poem are prefixed to the score. They are as follows:

DON JUAN [to Diego, his brother]

"O magic realm, illimited, eternal,
Of gloried woman—loveliness supernal!
Fain would I, in the storm of stressful bliss,
Expire upon the last one's lingering kiss!
Through every realm, O friend, would wing my flight,
Wherever Beauty blooms, kneel down to each,
And if for one brief moment, win delight!"

---

DON JUAN [to Diego]

"I flee from surfeit and from rapture's cloy,
Keep fresh for Beauty service and employ,
Grieving the One, that All I may enjoy.
The fragrance from one lip to-day is breath of spring:
The dungeon's gloom perchance to-morrow's luck may bring.
When with the new love won I sweetly wander,
No bliss is ours upfurbish'd and regilded;
A different love has This to That one yonder—
Not up from ruins be my temples builded.
Yea, Love life is, and ever must be new,
Cannot be changed or turned in new direction;
It cannot but there expire—here resurrection;
And, if 'tis real, it nothing knows of rue!
Each Beauty in the world is sole, unique:
So must the Love be that would Beauty seek!
So long as Youth lives on with pulse afire,
Out to the chase! To victories new aspire!"

DON JUAN [to Marcello, his friend]

"It was a wond'rous lovely storm that drove me:
Now it is o'er; and calm all round, above me;
Sheer dead is every wish; all hopes o'ershrouded—
'Twas p'r'aps a flash from heaven that so descended,
Whose deadly stroke left me with powers ended,
And all the world, so bright before, o'erclouded;
And yet p'r'aps not! Exhausted is the fuel;
And on the hearth the cold is fiercely cruel." [142]

Lenau is said to have observed of his creation: "My 'Don Juan' is no hot-blooded man eternally pursuing women. It is the longing in him to find a woman who is to him incarnate womanhood, and to enjoy, in the one, all the women on earth, whom he cannot as individuals possess. Because he does not find her, although he reels from one to another, at last Disgust seizes hold of him, and this Disgust is the Devil that fetches him." Elaborate and inexorably detailed commentaries have been written on Strauss's tone-poem; yet this brief exposition by Mr. Philip Hale is more truly illuminating than are the exhaustive excursions of the German analysts:

"Lenau's hero is a man who seeks the sensual ideal. He is constantly disappointed. He is repeatedly disgusted with himself, men and women, and the world; and when at last he fights a duel with Don Pedro, the avenging son of the Grand Commander, he throws away his sword and lets his adversary kill him.

"'Mein Todfeind ist in meine Faust gegeben;
Doch dies auch langweilt, wie das ganze Leben.'

"('My deadly foe is in my power; but this, too, bores me, as does life itself.')"

Of the tragic end of the Don's insatiable experimenting—as Strauss has turned it into music—he says:

"Till the end the mood grows wilder and wilder. There is no longer time for regret, and soon there will be no time for longing. It is the Carnival, and Don Juan drinks deep of wine and love.... Surrounded by women, overcome by wine, he rages in passion, and at last falls unconscious.... Gradually he comes to his senses, the themes of the apparitions, rhythmically disguised as in fantastic dress, pass like sleep-chasings through his brain, and then there is the motive of 'Disgust.' Some find in the next episode the thought of the cemetery, with Don Juan's reflections and his invitation to the Statue. Here the jaded man finds solace in bitter reflection. At the feast, surrounded by gay company, there is a faint awakening of longing, but he exclaims:

"'The fire of my blood has now burned out.'

"Then comes the duel, with the death scene. The theme of 'Disgust' now dominates. There is a tremendous orchestral crash; there is long and eloquent silence. A pianissimo chord in A minor is cut into by a piercingly dissonant trumpet F, and then there is a last sigh, a mourning dissonance and resolution (trombones) to E minor.

"'Exhausted is the fuel,
And on the hearth the cold is fiercely cruel.'"

"MACBETH," TONE-POEM: Op. 23

Macbeth, Tondichtung fÜr grosses Orchestrer (nach Shakespeare's drama), was composed in 1887. It is actually, in date of composition, the first of Strauss's orchestral tone-poems, though "Don Juan" (see the preceding pages), composed in 1888, bears an earlier opus number—20.

Beyond the title and the acknowledgment—"after Shakespeare's drama"—the score bears no programme or explanation save the word "Macbeth" printed over an imperious phrase for violins, horn, and wood-wind near the beginning, and a quotation from the play, in German, placed above a passage on page 11 of the orchestral score, where flutes and clarinets, pianissimo, give out, over muted [143] horns and strings tremolo, a phrase whose expression is marked appassionata, molto rubato. [144] The quotation is from Lady Macbeth's speech in Act I., Scene V.:

"Hie thee hither,
That I may pour my spirits in thine ear,
And chastise with the valor of my tongue
All that impedes thee from the golden round,
Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
To have thee crown'd withal."

German analysts have been, as in the case of all of Strauss's needlessly and perversely recondite programme-music, at pains to explore the music of "Macbeth," and have written with lavish detail in exposition of its significance. The end of it all appears to be that in this tone-poem Strauss has not attempted to illustrate the external events of Shakespeare's tragedy, but has endeavored to portray the character of its protagonist, Macbeth himself, and the struggle which goes on within his soul.

"DEATH AND TRANSFIGURATION," TONE-POEM: Op. 24

Prefaced to the published score of Tod und VerklÄrung (composed in 1889) is a poem by the German musician Alexander Ritter,[145] which was written after the author had become acquainted with Strauss's music, and under its inspiration. That the verses were included by Strauss in the printed score is sufficient evidence that he regards them as an adequate interpretation of the emotional plan underlying his music.

The subject of this tone-poem is the human soul at grip with death, fronting imminent dissolution, and reviewing feverishly the memorable phases of its past—childhood, youth, love, conflict, strife, aspiration, despair—interrupted by desperate struggles with the Destroyer. At the moment of death there is the beginning of triumph—"deliverance from the world, transfiguration...."

Ritter's poem, translated into English prose by Mr. W. F. Apthorp, is as follows:

The music, for purposes of elucidation, may be divided into five (connected) sections:

We see the sick man lying exhausted upon his bed in the little candle-lit room; he has just wrestled wildly with Death. He smiles faintly, dreaming of his youth.

Abruptly, Death renews the attack, and the dreadful struggle is resumed. There is gradual exhaustion, and once more a respite comes to the sufferer.

Now he is visited by dreams and hallucinations—memories of youth, of young manhood and its vicissitudes, of lusty conflict and passionate endeavor, with illusory glimpses of future triumph.

But again Death attacks his victim. There is a short and furious struggle, a sudden subsidence, a mysterious and sinister gong-stroke; a portentous silence signifies the final stilling of the heart.

Then begins, gradually and gravely, the Transfiguration; and through shimmering harps and sonorous chantings of the brass is suggested the final triumphant attainment of the soul released.

"TILL EULENSPIEGEL'S MERRY PRANKS": Op. 28

The full title of this work is: Till Eulenspiegel's lustige Streiche, nach alter Schelmenweise—in Rondoform—fÜr grosses Orchester gesetzt von Richard Strauss. Translated according to the most reasonable authority, this means: "Till Eulenspiegel's Merry Pranks, Set in the Old-Fashioned, Roughish Manner—in the Form of a Rondo[146]—for Grand Orchestra, by Richard Strauss." This sufficiently formidable announcement introduced to the world in 1895 (the year of its completion and publication) a work which its author sought, after his usual habit, to imbue with a kind of mystification the point and savor of which it is a little difficult to appreciate. When the "rondo" was produced at Cologne, November 15, 1895, Dr. Franz WÜllner, who conducted the performance, requested Strauss to furnish an explanatory programme of the piece. The composer declined. "It is impossible," he said, "for me to furnish a programme to Eulenspiegel; were I to put into words the thoughts which its several incidents suggested to me, they would seldom suffice, and might even give rise to offence. Let me leave it, therefore, to my hearers to crack the hard nut which the Rogue has prepared for them. By way of helping them to a better understanding, it seems sufficient to point out the two 'Eulenspiegel' motives, which, in the most manifold disguises, moods, and situations, pervade the whole up to the catastrophe, when, after he has been condemned to death, Till is strung up to the gibbet. For the rest, let them guess at the musical joke which a Rogue has offered them." The three motives indicated by Strauss were the opening theme of the introduction, the horn theme that follows almost immediately, and the descending interval that is said to be expressive of condemnation and the scaffold.

Till Eulenspiegel, better known to English readers as Tyll Owlglass, is the prank-playing vagabond hero of a fifteenth-century German Volksbuch whose authorship is attributed to Dr. Thomas Murner (1475-1530). Till, according to Dr. Murner, was born at Kneithlinger, Brunswick, in 1283, and died of the plague at MÖlln, near Lubeck, in 1350 or 1353, after wanderings through Germany, Italy, and Poland. Till's exploits, the stories of which are household words in Germany, consisted of mischievous pranks and jests that he practised without discrimination and, in some instances, with a frank and joyous absence of delicate sentiment which can best be described as Rabelaisean. In Murner's tale, Till is sentenced to the gallows, but escapes death at the last moment. Strauss, however, does not let his hero off, and permits him to die on the scaffold.

Despite his disinclination to furnish an elucidation of his music, Strauss has apparently given his sanction to an analysis of the score prepared by Mr. Wilhelm Klatte. As this is full, explicit, and seemingly authoritative, it is quoted here, in part, as follows, in an English translation attributed to Mr. C. A. Barry:

"A strong sense of German folk-feeling pervades the whole work. The source from which the tone-poet drew his inspiration is clearly indicated in the introductory bars: GemÄchlich [Andante commodo]. To some extent this stands for the 'once upon a time' of the story-books. That what follows is not to be treated in the pleasant and agreeable manner of narrative poetry, but in a more sturdy fashion, is at once made apparent by a characteristic bassoon figure which breaks in upon the piano of the strings. Of equal importance for the development of the piece is the immediately following humorous horn theme. Beginning quietly and gradually becoming more lively, it is at first heard against a tremolo of the divided violins and then again in the first tempo, Sehr lebhaft [Vivace]. This theme, or at least the kernel of it, is taken up in turn by oboes, clarinets, violas, 'cellos, and bassoons, and is finally brought by the full orchestra, except trumpets and trombones, after a few bars crescendo, to a ... fortissimo. The thematic material, according to the main point, has now been fixed upon; the milieu is given by which we are enabled to recognize the pranks and droll tricks which the crafty schemer is about to bring before our eyes, or, far rather, before our ears.

"Here he is (clarinet phrase followed by chord for wind instruments). He wanders through the land as a thorough-going adventurer. His clothes are tattered and torn: a queer, fragmentary version of the 'Eulenspiegel' motive resounds from the horns.... The rogue, putting on his best manners, slyly passes through the gate, and enters a certain city. It is market-day; the women sit at their stalls and prattle (flutes, oboes, and clarinets). Hop! Eulenspiegel springs on his horse (indicated by rapid triplets extending through three measures), gives a smack of his whip, and rides into the midst of the crowd. Clink, clash, clatter! A confused sound of broken pots and pans, and the market-women are put to flight. In haste the rascal rides away (as is admirably illustrated by a fortissimo passage for the trombones) and secures a safe retreat.

"This was his first merry prank; a second follows immediately; GemÄchlich [Andante commodo]. Eulenspiegel has put on the vestments of a priest, and assumes a very unctuous mien. Though posing as a preacher of morals, the rogue peeps out from the folds of his mantle (the 'Eulenspiegel' motive on the clarinet points to the imposture). He fears for the success of his scheme. A figure played by muted [147] violins, horns, and trumpets makes it plain that he does not feel comfortable in his borrowed plumes. But soon he makes up his mind. Away with all scruples! He tears them off.

"Again the 'Eulenspiegel' theme is brought forward in the previous lively tempo, but is now subtly metamorphosed and chivalrously colored. Eulenspiegel has become a Don Juan, and he waylays pretty women. And one has bewitched him: Eulenspiegel is in love! Hear how now, glowing with love, the violins, clarinets, and flutes sing! But in vain. His advances are received with derision, and he goes away in a rage. How can one treat him so slightingly? Is he not a splendid fellow? Vengeance on the whole human race! He gives vent to his rage (in a fortissimo of horns in unison followed by a pause), and strange personages suddenly draw near ('cellos). A troop of honest, worthy Philistines! In an instant all his anger is forgotten. But it is still his chief joy to make fun of these lords and protectors of blameless decorum, to mock them, as is apparent from the lively and accentuated fragments of the theme, sounded at the beginning by the horn, which are now heard first from horns, violins, 'cellos, and then from trumpets, oboes, and flutes. Now that Eulenspiegel has had his joke, he goes away and leaves the professors and doctors behind in thoughtful meditation. Fragments of the typical theme of the Philistines are here treated canonically. [148] The wood-wind, violins, and trumpets suddenly project the 'Eulenspiegel' theme into their profound philosophy. It is as though the transcendent rogue were making faces at the bigwigs from a distance—again and again—and then waggishly running away. This is aptly characterized by a short episode in a hopping 2-4 rhythm, which, similarly with the first entrance of the Hypocrisy theme previously used, is followed by phantom-like tones from the wood-wind and strings and then from trombones and horns. Has our rogue still no foreboding?

"Interwoven with the very first theme, indicated lightly by trumpets and English horn, a figure is developed from the second introductory and fundamental theme. It is first taken up by the clarinets; it seems to express the fact that the arch-villain has again got the upper-hand of Eulenspiegel, who has fallen into his old manner of life.... A merry jester, a born liar, Eulenspiegel goes wherever he can succeed with a hoax. His insolence knows no bounds. Alas! there is a sudden jolt to his wanton humor. The drum rolls a hollow roll; the jailer drags the rascally prisoner into the criminal court. The verdict 'guilty' is thundered against the brazen-faced knave. The 'Eulenspiegel' theme replies calmly to the threatening chords of wind and lower strings. Eulenspiegel lies. Again the threatening tones resound; but Eulenspiegel does not confess his guilt. On the contrary, he lies for the third time. His jig is up. Fear seizes him. The Hypocrisy motive is sounded piteously; the fatal moment draws near; his hour has struck!... He has danced in air. A last struggle (flutes), and his soul takes flight.

"After sad, tremulous pizzicati of the strings, the epilogue begins. At first it is almost identical with the introductory measures, which are repeated in full; then the most essential parts of the second and third chief-theme passages appear, and finally merge into [a] soft chord.... Eulenspiegel has become a legendary character. The people tell their tales about him: 'Once upon a time....' But that he was a merry rogue and a real devil of a fellow seems to be expressed by the final eight measures, full orchestra, fortissimo."

"THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA," TONE-POEM: Op. 30

Also sprach Zarathustra, Tondichtung (frei nach Friedr. Nietzsche) fÜr grosses Orchester, was begun in February, finished in August, 1896. It is, as the title implies, a tonal rendering of impressions derived from Also sprach Zarathustra ("Thus Spake Zarathustra"), the remarkable philosophico-romantic fantasy of Friedrich Nietzsche. [149] Strauss's music is, he says, frei nach Nietzsche; that is to say, treated "freely" after Nietzsche. "I did not," he has declared, "intend to write philosophical music or portray Nietzsche's great work musically. I meant to convey musically an idea of the development of the human race from its origin, through the various phases of development, religious as well as scientific, up to Nietzsche's idea of the Over-man (Übermensch)." A large order, one would say. Whatever Strauss may have meant by "philosophical music," he has certainly, whether he intended to or not, composed a score which is utterly and hopelessly incomprehensible unless one knows what its relationship is, at every point, with Nietzsche's book—a knowledge which Strauss has considerately assisted by prefixing to each section of the score an indication of the particular part of the book to which the music refers. If this is not translating philosophy into tones (or seeking to do so), if it is not an endeavor to find musical equivalents for various phases of a particular philosophy, a particular chain of ideas, then we shall have, as it seems, to discover a new significance in very ordinary words. This is not the place to discuss the pros and cons of the matter, or its aspect from the stand-point of musical Æsthetics; the foregoing observations have been offered only for the purpose of clearing the ground, and to prepare the way for the statement which has now to be made: that a comprehension of this particular tone-poem, even with a knowledge of the score and its annotations, is impossible without a pretty complete understanding of Nietzsche's book and of his outlook upon life and ideas—an understanding which it is hardly feasible to attempt to communicate here. It is at least possible, though, to set forth certain of the essentials of his philosophical stand-point and of the characteristics of his Zarathustra, as a preparation for an acquaintance with the tone-poem of Strauss; and this cannot be better accomplished than by quoting from Mr. James Huneker's vivid and sympathetic study of the man and his views:

"What does Nietzsche teach? What is his central doctrine, divested of its increments of anti-Semitism, anti-Wagnerism, anti-Christianity, and anti-everything-else? Simply a doctrine as old as the first invertebrate organism which floated in torrid seas beneath a blazing moon: Egoism, individualism, personal freedom, self-hood. He is the apostle of the ego.... He is a proclaimer of the rank animalism of man. He believes in the body and not in the soul of theology....

"It is in Also sprach Zarathustra that the genius of Nietzsche is best studied. Like the Buddhistic Tripitaka, it is a book of highly colored Oriental aphorisms, interrupted by lofty lyric outbursts. It is an ironic, enigmatic, rhetorical rhapsody, the Third Part of a half-mad 'Faust.' In it may be seen flowing all the currents of modern cultures and philosophies, and, if it teaches anything at all, it teaches the wisdom and beauty of air, sky, waters, and earth, and of laughter, not Pantagruelian, but 'holy laughter.' The love of earth is preached in rapturous accents. A Dionysian ecstasy anoints the lips of this latter-day Sibyl on his tripod when he speaks of earth. He is intoxicated with the fulness of its joys. No gloomy monasticism, no denial of the will to live, no futile thinking about thinking—so despised by Goethe—no denial of grand realities, may be found in the curriculum of this Bacchantic philosopher. A pantheist, he is also a poet and seer like William Blake, and marvels at the symbol of nature, 'the living garment of the Deity'—Nietzsche's deity, of course.... It is the history of his soul, as 'Leaves of Grass' is Whitman's—there are some curious parallelisms between these two subjective epics. It is intimate, yet hints at universality; it contains some of Amiel's introspection and some of Baudelaire's morbidity—half-mad, yet exhorting, comforting; Hamlet and John Bunyan."

When Strauss's Also sprach Zarathustra was performed in Boston in the year following its completion (October 30, 1897), Mr. W. F. Apthorp wrote for the programme notes of the Boston Symphony Orchestra an analysis and exposition of the work which for completeness and precision could not well be surpassed. I reproduce it, in part, herewith:

"On a fly-leaf of the score is printed the following excerpt from Nietzsche's book:

"'ZARATHUSTRA'S PREFACE' (Friedrich Nietzsche).

"When Zarathustra was thirty years old, he left his home and the sea of his home and went to the mountains. Here he enjoyed his mind and his solitude, and did not tire thereof for ten years. But at last his heart was changed, and one morning he rose with the dawn, stood before the sun, and spake thus to him:

"'Thou great star! What were thy happiness, if thou hadst not him whom thou dost illumine! For ten years hast thou come here up to my cave: thou wouldst have had enough of thy light and of this road, without me, my eagle, and my serpent.

"'But we awaited thee every morning, relieved thee of thy superfluity, and blessed thee therefor.

"'See! I am tired of my wisdom, like the bee which has gathered too much honey; I need hands that stretch out.

"'I would make gifts and divide, till the wise among men have once more grown glad of their folly, and the poor, once more, of their riches. For this I must go down to the depths: as thou dost of evenings, when thou goest behind the sea and bringest light even to the lower world, thou over-rich star!

"'Like thee, I must go down,[150] as men call it, to them to whom I would descend. So bless me, then, thou placid eye, that canst see an over-great happiness without envy.

"'Bless thy beaker, which would fain overflow, that the water may flow out golden therefrom and carry the reflection of thy ecstasy everywhere!

"'See! This beaker would fain become empty again, and Zarathustra would fain become a man again.

"'—Thus began Zarathustra's downfall.'

"In Nietzsche's book, Zarathustra goes from the mountains down to men and preaches: 'I teach you the Over-man. Man is something that must be overcome. What have ye done to overcome him?... The Over-man is the meaning of the Earth.... Man is a rope, made fast between the Beast and the Over-man—a rope over an abyss. A dangerous passing-over, a dangerous on-the-way, a dangerous staying-behind, a dangerous shuddering and standing-still. What is great in Man is that he is a bridge and not a purpose: what can be loved in Man is that he is a transition and a downfall.[151]... What good and evil is, that no one yet knows: unless it be he who creates! But this one is he who creates Man's goal, and gives the Earth its meaning: he alone creates it that something shall be good and evil.'

"The great problem Zarathustra tries to solve in his speech is: to teach men the deification of Life; all human values must be 'transvalued,' and therewith a new order of the universe created, 'beyond good and evil.' Zarathustra himself is this 'world beyond,' he is the freest of the free, who descries in all Becoming only a yearning after his own self and teaching, which yearning alone can overcome the 'simian' world and 'simian' Mankind, slaves of traditional convention, and offer to Man—not the Joy of Life, for there is no such thing, but—the 'Fulness of Life,' in the joy of the senses, in the triumphant exuberance of vitality, in the pure, lofty naturalness of the Antique—in short, in the fusion of God, World, and Ego. This art of life of Zarathustra's shall be shared by Mankind; herein shall Zarathustra be dissolved in Mankind and 'go down!' Thus are also to be explained the significant closing words of the fourth chapter of 'Twilight of the Idols'[152]: 'Mid-day: the moment of the shortest shadow; the end of the longest error. The culminating-point of Humanity: Incipit Zarathustra.'

"Taking the excerpt from 'Zarathustra's Preface,' reprinted on the fly-leaf of his score, as his poetic text, Strauss has illustrated it in his own way.... Perhaps it were best ... not to attempt a metaphysico-romantic analysis of the work, but to leave this to the listener's imagination, after putting before him the composer's preface. It will be well, however, to give some sub-captions which Strauss has put at various points of the score.

"Just after the first great fortissimo outburst of the full orchestra and organ on the chord of C major,[153] stands, 'OF THE DWELLERS IN THE REAR-WORLD.' These were fools and pietarians, who sought the solution in Religion. Once Zarathustra, too, cast his delusion beyond Humankind, like all dwellers in the Rear-World. 'The World then seemed to be the work of a suffering and tormented God. The World then seemed to me a dream, a God's poem.... I, too, once cast my delusion beyond Humankind.... Ah, ye brothers, this God, whom I created, was the work of a man, and—an insanity, like all Gods.'

"Further on we find the sub-caption, 'OF THE GREAT YEARNING,' over a strenuous ascending passage in the 'cellos and bassoons, answered by the wood-wind. This refers to the following passage in Nietzsche's book: 'Wouldst thou not weep, not weep out thy purple despondency, then must thou sing, O my soul!... Sing with boisterous song, till all seas grow still, that they may listen to thy yearning.... Already glowest thou and dreamest, already drinkest thou thirstily at all deep-sounding Springs of Comfort, already does thy despondency find its rest in the beatitude of songs to come!'

"Over the expressive, pathetic cantilena in C minor of the second violins, oboes, and horn, stands, 'OF JOYS AND PASSIONS'.

"Further on we come to the 'GRAVE-SONG,' a tenderly expressive cantilena in the oboe, over the 'Yearning-motive' in the 'cellos and bassoons: 'Yonder is the island of graves, the silent one; yonder, too, are the graves of my youth. Thither will I carry an evergreen wreath of Life. Resolving this in my heart, I journeyed across the sea. O ye sights and apparitions of my youth! O all ye love-glances, ye divine moments! How soon are ye dead to me! I think of you to-day as of my dead ones.... To kill me did they wring your necks, ye song-birds of my hopes! Yea, at you, ye dearest ones, did malice ever aim its shafts—to hit my heart....'

"Over the fugued passage, beginning in the 'cellos and double-basses, stands, 'OF SCIENCE.' It is to be noted, as a musical curiosity, that the subject of this fugue contains all the diatonic and chromatic degrees of the scale....

"Considerably further on, where a violent passage in the strings (beginning in the 'cellos and violas) soars up, ... stands, 'THE CONVALESCENT.'... 'Let us kill the Spirit of Weight!...'

"So learn to laugh your way out of yourselves! Uplift your hearts, ye good dancers, high! higher! And forget not the good laughter! This crown to the laughers, this rose-wreath crown: to you, my brothers, do I dedicate this crown! I have pronounced Laughter holy; ye Higher Men, learn—to laugh!... One must have Chaos in himself, to give birth to a dancing star....' Then the 'DANCE-SONG' begins, ushered in by trills in the flutes and clarinets.

"Much further on, after a fortissimo stroke of the bell, comes 'THE SONG OF THE NIGHT-WANDERER.' In the later editions of his book Nietzsche gave the corresponding chapter the title, 'Drunken Song.' On the twelve strokes of the 'heavy, heavy humming-bell (Brummglocke),' he wrote the following lines:

"'ONE!
"'O Man, take heed!'

"'TWO!
"'What speaks the deep midnight?'

"'THREE!
"'I have slept, I have slept—'

"'FOUR!
"'I have awaked out of a deep dream:—'

"'FIVE!
"'The world is deep,'

"'SIX!
"'And deeper than the day thought for.'

"'SEVEN!
"'Deep is its woe,—'

"'EIGHT!
"'Joy, deeper still than heart-sorrow.'

"'Nine!
"'Woe speaks: Vanish!'

"'TEN!
"'Yet all joy wants eternity, ...'

"'ELEVEN!
"'Wants deep, deep eternity!'

"'TWELVE!'

"The composition ends mystically in two keys—in B major in the high wood-wind and violins, in C major in the basses pizzicati. Zarathustra's downfall!"

"DON QUIXOTE," FANTASTIC VARIATIONS ON A THEME OF KNIGHTLY CHARACTER: Op. 35

The full title of this work (composed in 1897) is: Don Quixote (Introduzione, Tema con Variazioni, e Finale): Fantastische Variationen Über ein Thema ritterlichen Characters. That is to say, it is in the form of a theme with variations, the theme is of "knightly character," and the variations are "fantastic." From the programmatic point of view, it is a series of tone-pictures in which are set forth, upon a musical canvas of singular vividness, the figures of Cervantes' Knight of the Rueful Countenance and his squire Sancho Panza, and their memorable adventures in quest of knightly glory. The orchestral score contains no programme or explanatory notes, save two superscriptions printed above the dual portions of the theme, identifying the first part with Don Quixote, the second part with Sancho Panza; yet Strauss, with his inveterate lack of consistency in such matters, has annotated the pianoforte arrangement of his music with a completeness which he has capriciously denied to the orchestral score, placing at the head of each variation a verbal clew to the particular adventure which the music aims to describe. From these it is possible to follow its meaning in fairly ample detail.

The music consists of an Introduction, a Theme, ten variations, and a Finale, continuous throughout. Each variation is concerned with some incident in Cervantes' novel. A solo 'cello represents, or "enacts," Don Quixote; a solo viola, Sancho Panza.

INTRODUCTION

Don Quixote is deep in the perusal of old romances of errant chivalry. Grandiose and splendid pictures pass through his mind and inflame his imagination. He beholds Dulcinea—Dulcinea, the ideal woman (oboe melody); he sees her beset by giants and rescued by a knight. "His fantasy was filled with those things that he read, of enchantments, quarrels, battles, challenges, wounds, wooings, loves, tempests, and other impossible follies," and in the end, "through his little sleep and much reading, he dried up his brains in such sort as he lost wholly his judgment." The strain becomes unbearable; the orchestra utters confused and insane and wildly chaotic thoughts; until finally, "in some terrible chords that give one the sensation of an overstretched spring snapping violently," we realize that the Knight is at last quite mad. He has determined on a life of chivalry.

THEME

The two-part theme is announced: Don Quixote being limned by a phrase, pathetically grandiose, for solo 'cello (moderato); Sancho Panza by a burly and grotesquely comic theme first heard on the tenor tuba and bass clarinet, but afterwards confined to a solo viola.

Variation I
DON QUIXOTE AND SANCHO PANZA SET FORTH

The knight and his squire set forth on their quest of chivalric adventure, the Don inspired by the thought of the lovely Dulcinea del Toboso (the theme of the Ideal Woman). The sight of windmills revolving in the breeze inspires his valor; he charges them, and is overthrown by the sails.

Variation II
THE VICTORIOUS BATTLE WITH THE HOST OF THE GREAT EMPEROR ALIFONFARON

Out of a cloud of dust (strings) Don Quixote perceives the approach of an army. Sancho sees that it is a flock of sheep (the muted[154] brass instruments in the orchestra imitate their bleating), and seeks to restrain the enthusiasm of his master. Don Quixote charges valiantly and puts the enemy to rout.

Variation III
COLLOQUIES OF KNIGHT AND SQUIRE

Don Quixote and Sancho Panzo argue concerning the reasonableness of a life of chivalry. The Don waxes eloquent over the glory of a knightly career, in an orchestral passage (developed out of his own theme and that of Dulcinea) of striking fervor and nobility. Sancho advocates the homely and attainable things of reality; we hear a fragment of his motive; but the Don silences him angrily.

Variation IV
THE ENCOUNTER WITH THE PILGRIMS

The knight and his squire fall in with a band of pilgrims (a theme of ecclesiastical character for the wind instruments). Don Quixote imagines them to be villains and malefactors. He attacks them and is worsted, falling senseless. He revives slowly, and Sancho, relieved, lies down beside him and sleeps.

Variation V
THE KNIGHT'S VIGIL BESIDE HIS ARMS

Don Quixote, following the knightly custom, refrains from sleep and watches beside his arms through the night. Ecstatically he perceives Dulcinea, as in a vision (the theme of the Ideal Woman is heard).

Variation VI
THE MEETING WITH DULCINEA

Sancho Panza assures the Don that a certain vulgar peasant girl whom they meet is his adored Dulcinea (we hear the Ideal Woman theme, transformed into a common and trivial tune—wood-wind and tambourine). Don Quixote is incredulous. He angrily ascribes the effect to some magical agency.

Variation VII
THE RIDE THROUGH THE AIR

Sitting stationary with bandaged eyes on a wooden horse, the knight and his squire believe that they are being borne through the air. We hear in the orchestra the whistling of the wind (here enters the famous "wind-machine"); the themes of the Don and of Sancho are giddily borne aloft on the instrumental breeze. A long-held note on the bassoon indicates their sudden stop, their realization, as they look about them, that they have not left the earth.

Variation VIII
THE JOURNEY IN THE ENCHANTED BOAT

The knight, perceiving an empty boat, and being convinced that it is miraculously intended for his use, embarks in it with his squire for the accomplishment of some predestined deed of chivalry. The orchestra plays a graceful barcarolle. The boat upsets, but the two reach shore in safety. They offer up thanks for their escape (a religious passage for the wind instruments).

Variation IX
THE CONFLICT WITH THE TWO SORCERERS

Don Quixote meets two wayfarers whom he takes to be the magicians whose sorcery has worked him ill. They are merely a pair of inoffensive monks, but the knight attacks them, with victorious results.

Variation X
THE COMBAT WITH THE KNIGHT OF THE SILVER MOON,
AND THE OVERTHROW OF DON QUIXOTE

The bachelor Samson Carrasco, the "Knight of the Silver Moon," one of Don Quixote's townsmen, does battle with him for the sake of his own good and to cure him of his delusions: "so to have him in his own house, I thought upon this device." The music portrays the contest between them, which is thus described by Cervantes: "They both of them set spurs to their horses, and the Knight of the White Moon's being the swifter, met Don Quixote ere he had run a quarter of his career so forcibly (without touching him with his lance, for it seemed he carried it aloft on purpose) that he tumbled horse and man both to the ground, and Don Quixote had a terrible fall; so he got straight on the top of him; and, clapping his lance's point upon his visor, said, 'You are vanquished, Knight, and a dead man, if you confess not, according to the conditions of our combat.' Don Quixote, all bruised and amazed, without heaving up his visor, as if he had spoken out of a tomb, with a faint and weak voice said, 'Dulcinea del Toboso is the fairest woman in the world, and I the unfortunatest knight on earth; and it is not fit that my weakness defraud this truth; thrust your lance into me, Knight, and kill me, since you have bereaved me of my honor.' 'Not so, truly,' quoth he of the White Moon; 'let the fame of my Lady Dulcinea's beauty live in her entireness; I am only contented that the grand Don Quixote retire home for a year, or till such time as I please, as we agreed before we began the battle.' And Don Quixote answered that, so nothing were required of him in prejudice of his Lady Dulcinea, he would accomplish all the rest, like a true and punctual knight."

Don Quixote, defeated, broken-hearted, his illusions vanishing one by one, rides homeward with his squire in profound dejection; and here the orchestra evolves out of a pathetic variant of his theme an eloquent and vivid commentary.

Finale
THE DEATH OF DON QUIXOTE

The knight, once more a sane and wise man, his brain cleared of its mists, his reason restored, lies dying peacefully in his bed. "They stood all gazing one upon another, wondering at Don Quixote's sound reasons, although they made some doubt to believe them. One of the signs which induced them to conjecture that he was near unto death's door was that with such facility he was from a stark fool become a wise man. For, to the words already alleged, he added many more so significant, so Christian-like, and so well couched, that without doubt they confidently believed that Don Quixote was become a right wise man.... Amidst the wailful plaints and blubbering tears of the bystanders he yielded up the ghost—that is to say, he died."[155] The music which portrays his end is simple and very peaceful. The chords which, at the beginning, indicated his aberration, are now orderly, tranquil, and composed.

"A HERO'S LIFE" ["EIN HELDENLEBEN"], TONE-POEM: Op. 40

Ein Heldenleben was completed in December, 1898. The score bears absolutely no indication of its purport or significance save the title: we are left to guess whether the "hero" whose life is celebrated therein is an ideal hero or a figure of history, of myth, of romance, or of private life. Strauss is said to have observed, in response to a question: "There is no need of a programme. It is enough to know there is a hero fighting his enemies." Yet the analysts have been busy with this score, as with others by Strauss; and he has, at least by implication, sanctioned their interpretations.

"A Hero's Life" is in six connected sections, arranged and identified as follows:

1. THE HERO
2. THE HERO'S ADVERSARIES
3. THE HERO'S CONSORT
4. THE HERO'S BATTLE-FIELD
5. THE HERO'S WORKS OF PEACE
6. THE HERO'S RETIREMENT FROM THE WORLD, AND THE END OF HIS STRIVING

I. THE HERO

We hear first the theme of the Hero, a chivalric and wide-arched phrase, of extraordinary breadth and energy, announced forte by horns, viola, and 'cellos. Subsidiary themes follow, picturing various aspects of his nature—his "pride, emotional nature, iron will, richness of imagination," and so forth. The main theme, weightily proclaimed by tenor and bass tubas, four horns, double-basses, 'cellos, and wood-wind, brings the first section to a thunderous close.

II. THE HERO'S ADVERSARIES

Herein are pictured the Hero's opponents and detractors—an envious and malicious crew, rich in all uncharitableness. [156] The wood-wind instruments—flutes, oboes, English horn, clarinets—utter shrill and snarling phrases: beside them, the spiteful cackling of the wood-wind in the "Meistersinger" overture is as the amorous murmuring of doves. There is also an uncouth and sluggish phrase for tenor and bass tubas, intended to picture the malevolence of the dull-witted among the foe. The theme of the Hero, in a sad and meditative guise, pictures his dignified amazement, his pained and sorrowful surprise that his adversaries should so reveal the smallness and meanness and acrimony of their natures. A poignant phrase, of "Parsifal"-like color and profile (muted[157] strings) speaks of his temporary disquietment—perhaps his doubt of his own sublimity; but this is barely hinted at. His dauntless courage reasserts itself, and the mocking and contemptible horde are put, at least for the time, to rout.

III. THE HERO'S CONSORT

A solo violin, in a long and elaborate passage, introduces the Hero's beloved. She is pictured at first as capricious—a coquette; but the music grows more tender, more gentle; the full orchestra enters; the oboe sings an expressive melody; there are rapturous and passionate phrases for the strings amid sweeping arpeggios in the harps, and the love scene reaches its climax. The mocking voices of the foe are heard remotely, like the distant croaking of night birds through an ecstatic dream: they are powerless to disturb the peace and felicity of the lovers.

IV. THE HERO'S BATTLE-FIELD

But now the call to battle sounds, and it may not be ignored. Distant fanfares of trumpets summon the Hero to the conflict. The orchestra becomes a battle-field; the music is chaos—tumultuous, cataclysmic: "it evokes the picture of countless and waging hosts, of forests of waving spears and clashing blades. The din, heat, and turmoil of conflict are spread over all, and the ground piled high with the slain." Through the dust and din we are reminded of the inspiration of the beloved, which urges on and enheartens the champion, whose motive contests for supremacy with that of his adversaries. A triumphant orchestral outburst on the Hero's theme proclaims at last his victory. Yet he rejoices alone—the world regards his conquest with cold and cynical indifference.

V. THE HERO'S WORKS OF PEACE

Now begins a celebration of the hero's victories of peace, his spiritual evolution and achievements. This section is introduced by a reminder of the uncouth phrase for tenor and bass tuba heard in the second division. The heroic and tender themes of the preceding pages are recalled, and with them are woven (a significant indication of the true subject of the tone-poem) quotations of themes from Strauss's earlier works. We hear, in surprising and subtle combinations, reminiscences of "Don Juan," "Thus Spake Zarathustra," "Death and Transfiguration," "Don Quixote," "Till Eulenspiegel's Merry Pranks," the music-drama "Guntram," "Macbeth," and the famous and lovely song, Traum durch die DÄmmerung. Industrious commentators have discovered twenty-three of these quotations.

VI. THE HERO'S RETIREMENT FROM THE WORLD, AND THE END OF HIS STRIVING

Again we hear, in the tubas, the uncouth and cacophonous phrase which voices the dull contempt of the benighted adversaries. Even the glorious achievements of the Hero's brain, his spiritual conquests, have won only envy and derision. The protagonist rebels mightily; there are passionate and tempestuous phrases, reminiscences of his theme, in the strings, horns, and wood-wind. But his mood quiets. Over a persistent tapping of the kettle-drum, the English horn intones a gentler version of his theme. An agitating memory of the striving and conflict of the past disturbs, but only for a moment, the serenity of his mood. We are reminded of the consoling presence of the beloved one. Peace descends upon the spirit of the Hero. The close is majestic and benign.

"DOMESTIC SYMPHONY": Op. 53

In the course of an interview published in London in 1902, Strauss made this announcement: "My next tone-poem will illustrate 'a day in my family life.' It will be partly lyrical, partly humorous—a triple fugue, the three subjects representing papa, mamma, and the baby." The Symphonia Domestica, composed in 1903, was published in 1904. The first performance anywhere was at Carnegie Hall, New York, March 21, 1904.

The symphony, which bears this dedication: Meiner lieben Frau und unserm Jungen gewidmet ("Dedicated to my dear Wife and our Boy"), is in one movement and three subdivisions: (1) Introduction and Scherzo; (2) Adagio; (3) Double Fugue and Finale. The composer declined, at the time of the first performance of the symphony, to furnish any programme for the music. [158] When the work was produced in Berlin (December 12, 1904), under the direction of the composer, the programme books contained this (presumably authorized) annotation of the music:

"I. INTRODUCTION and development of the three chief groups of themes:

"II. SCHERZO:

"III. ADAGIO:

"IV. FINALE:

A year later, in connection with the first performance in England, an "official" description was published, and it was intimated that this description was "allowed" by the composer "to be made public." It is therefore reproduced here, since there is every reason to believe that it constitutes an authentic interpretation of the music.

"[INTRODUCTION]

"The symphony is concerned with three main themes, that of the husband, that of the wife, and that of the child. The husband theme is divided into three sections, the first of which is marked gemÄchlich ('easy-going,' or 'deliberate,' given out by 'cellos), the second sinnend ('meditative,'[159] oboe,) and the third feurig ('fiery,' violins). The first section of the symphony, the Introduction, is devoted to an exposition and treatment of the chief themes, or groups of themes, its most striking feature being the introduction of the child theme on the oboe d'amore, an instrument which has practically fallen out of use.[160] The composer himself has spoken of this theme as being of 'almost Haydnesque simplicity.' On this follows a very characteristic passage, which has been interpreted as representing the child in its bath.[161]

"[SCHERZO]

"The Scherzo bears the headings ElternglÜck—Kindliche Spiele ('Parents' Happiness'—'The Child at Play'). Its chief theme is the child theme in a new rhythm. At its end the music suggestive of the bath recurs, and the clock strikes seven. We then come to the lullaby, where we have another version of the child theme.

"[ADAGIO]

"The sub-headings of the Adagio are Schaffen und Schauen—Liebes-scene—TrÄume und Sorgen

('Doing and Thinking'—'Love Scene'—'Dreams and Cares'). This elaborate section introduces no new themes of any importance, and is really a symphonic slow movement of great polyphonic elaboration and superlatively rich orchestral color. The gradual awakening of the family is next depicted by a change in the character of the music, which becomes more and more restless, the use of rhythmical variants of previous themes being very ingenious; and then there is another reference to the bath music, and the glockenspiel[162] indicates that it is 7 A.M.

"[FINALE]

"In this way we reach the final Fugue. The principal subject of this is also a new version of the child theme. Its sub-title is Lustiger Streit—FrÖhlicher Beschluss ('Merry Argument'—'Happy Conclusion'), the subject of the dispute between father and mother being the future of the son. The Fugue (the chief subject of which is another variant of the child theme) is carried on with unflagging spirit and humor and great variety of orchestration.... As the Fugue proceeds, the child theme gradually grows more and more prominent, and finally seems to dominate the whole score." ["The child seems to have hurt himself in boisterous play," says another commentator. "The mother cares for him, and the father also has a soothing word."] "Some new themes, all more or less akin to it, and all in the nature of folk-tunes, are introduced. The father and mother, however, soon assume their former importance, and the whole ends with great spirit and in the highest good-humor, with an emphatic reassertion of the husband theme with which it began, suggesting that the father had the last word in the argument."