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Weingartner's Bayreuth treatise:

Twenty years had passed before it was found possible to repeat Richard Wagner's Ring des Nibeiungen in the theatre which had been specially designed for the purpose. The "Teutonic Spirit" upon which Wagner had relied when projecting and carrying out his gigantic work had played him false. It might have been thought that national enthusiasm, fertilised by the hope of a unique production of a commanding genius, would have borne fruit, but the necessary financial support which had been expected was not forthcoming, and Wagner, persecuted by malice and scepticism, would have had to renounce the hope of seeing any representations that came up to his ideal, had not King Ludwig, of immortal memory, nobly come forward to his help. It would be quite superfluous to speak here of the importance of the Nibeiungen representations that at last took place in 1876. Wagner was, however, forced to abandon the repetition of the performances planned for the following year for want of general interest and sympathy. For six years he kept his intentions to himself and did not reveal them to the world until the time came to produce a new work, the purest and loftiest he ever wrote; and once more both performers and spectators were united at Bayreuth. The voice of calumny was silenced before the sublime beauty of Parsifal. The universal and unreserved enthusiasm with which it was received, as compared with the reception given to his former works, inspired the hope that the festivals rested on a firm basis, and that Wagner could now carry out his plans without further let or hindrance. It is possible that, even if he had lived, he would never have composed a new work but would have dedicated the rest of his life simply to a series of artistically perfect representations of his former works. Ten years, perhaps even less, would have sufficed for this, and what a gain for art, what priceless stores of knowledge would have been ours!....

After the Master's eyes had closed in death Parsifal was given two years in succession (1883 and 1884). The same artists as in 1882 took part in the performance, there were no alterations in the stage mounting, Levi conducted,¹ and there was nothing to remind us that the creator and quickener of all the beauty which enthralled us was no longer living. Only the absence of the pleased and hearty "Bravo !" that sounded from the depths of the dark box when the Flower Maidens had sung - "Kannst du uns nicht lieben und minnen, Wir welken und sterben dahinnen" especially well, woke in us a sudden and painful sense of that personality, a sense of loss which could only be appeased by the beauty of the representation and the thought: "His work lives and will live for ever".

General interest in Bayreuth had now been awakened. The festivals were well attended, if not in such great numbers as at present, and it seemed as if their continuation was financially secure. For the year 1886 Tristan und Isolde was promised as well as Parsifal. And now for the first time a work was to be produced in the sacred spot that had not been studied under the eye of the Master. To the joy of all it was announced that his widow, Frau Cosima Wagner, had invited Felix Mottl,² the accomplished Wagnerian scholar and conductor, to direct Tristan, and so we all flocked to Bayreuth full of hope.

On this occasion I had been invited to be one of the musical assistants or repetiteurs. That is to say, I was to conduct rehearsals of the chorus and rehearsals at the piano. Before they began a great deal had been said at the Villa Wahnfried about the difficulty there would be in trying to break the singers who were to take part in Tristan of bad habits on the stage. That was readily understandable, for alas! inartistic tricks in acting and musical diction are to be found even in highly gifted artists. But what struck me unpleasantly was the extremely adverse criticism directed at those distinguished singers (I mean Niemann, Betz, Scaria.Vogl and Mme. Materna)⁵ who Wagner had once with the most ideal devotion helped to embody his creations - as if Wagner had only made use of them because he was obliged to, and had experienced more pain than pleasure in so doing, which contrasted strangely with many passages in his writings. The reaction in favour of Vogl only set in after he had sung and acted the third Act of Tristan at a piano rehearsal and in everyday dress so movingly that he thereby gained the suffrage of the House of Wahnfried. At the rehearsals in the theatre Frau Wagner herself undertook the direction, and up to a certain point substituted herself for the departed Master. Above all, she sought to try and restrain the artists from what she considered over-acting. The outbursts of passion in which Tristan abounds were to be expressed only by small gestures - in fact, only hinted at. In attempting to break the actors of their bad theatrical habits she went much too far, for when they had adapted themselves as far as possible to her wishes and rehearsed according to her instructions, the scenic action remained without effect. Mottl, in the joy of being called to fill the conductor's desk at Bayreuth and revelling in his strength, simply romped through the music, so that he had to be recommended to moderate his tempi. Thereupon he fell into the opposite fault and dragged the time. From the strictly musical point of view this was not a bad fault, as the tone of the half-covered and very full orchestra had a really intoxicating effect and induced a gentle lethargy in the hearers, but when combined with the action on the stage it was only a drag on it. "Things are at a standstill" it was said, and modifications were attempted. Here a gesture was to be made more emphatic, there a passage to be taken in quicker time. Then the original individualities of the singers got the better of their desire to submit to Frau Wagner's behests, and in the end they did what they thought best. This was for the good of the performance, for at that time Herr Kniese's "Artistic Training School"⁴ was not yet in existence; and people were still invited who really had individuality, who knew what they would and could do, and were not just puppets - and where are such people needed more than in Tristan, where everything depends on those few who are to embody the human figures of the musical drama? In this manner Frau Wagner was robbed of some of her authority on the stage, and she therefore turned all her attention to the orchestra and its conductor.

From a purely musical point of view Frau Wagner is what could be called an educated dilettante. Capable of playing the piano only to a very moderate extent, yet helped by her keen wit and fascinating personality, she understands how to talk loftily of music and its great masters and to impress the uninitiated with a sense of her own knowledge; but this knowledge would not bear the investigation of a real musical authority. She interfered in details of the orchestral execution, ordered the time and the shades of expression as if she had been the most capable and distinguished of conductors; and for his part, the distinguished but all too adaptable Mottl knew no higher object than to subordinate his wishes to hers, even when it went against his convictions. "In Bayreuth one must only serve" was a saying of his that was often quoted and unfortunately only too often acted upon by some of the artists who went so far as completely to surrender their individualities. Because Mottl, by his calculating behaviour, had gained the favour of the House of Wahnfried, he became an object of envy to many who thought they would reach the same end by the like craftiness. Counsellors of the greatest variety pressed round Frau Wagner and it became a regular race as to who should win her favour. Some of these counsellors were listenened to more than others, and the result was that uncertainty and perplexity reigned supreme at rehearsal. What was done on the stage did not harmonise with what was done in the orchestra; at one rehearsal this was settled, at the next that, and finally at the dress rehearsal a great deal was still left undetermined. "Where is the master mind that will show us how it really should be done?" was said on all sides in varying tones. Truly the master could not return; but would it not have been better from the very beginning to have confided the chief command without restrictions to the conductor? Even if he were only "Kapellmeister" at least he could out of his own feelings and knowledge have created an organic whole. As it was, Frau Wagner attempted to shape the representations with very unpractised hands. She also listened to unqualified advisers, and the difference between what was done to order, and what was done because it was really felt, became very noticeable. This being the case, no uniform picture was forthcoming such as would have been expected in what should have been a model performance. I have heard Tristan at Munich and at Leipzig and, passing over a few regrettable shortcomings in the former place, it was better and more powerfully given in both these towns than in Bayreuth, because there was a greater sense of unity about the whole.

I saw seven performances at Bayreuth and in all it was the first Act that succeeded best. In the great scene of the second Act, the so-called Day and Night discourse, and to an even greater degree in the third Act, the singers and the orchestra were not in touch with each other. The action of the drama almost ceases here and the whole work becomes a great outpouring of the soul, a great monologue. In this important and difficult scene it is necessary, perhaps here more than in any other work, that there should be the most absolute comprehension of the situation on the part of the singer, combined with an orchestral accompaniment that should reflect its most intimate emotions. In the conductor the deepest feeling and passion must be combined with the most perfect sobriety in execution. But how was that possible here, where the conductor, besides undertaking the gigantic task that the work of "The Master" imposed on him, was bound to try at the same time to subordinate his will to that of "The Mistress"? They did not quite hit it off in the short choruses in the first Act because they were taken at a different tempo on the stage and in the orchestra. The fight at the castle door in the third Act produced a merely childish effect, and it was painfully evident that the guiding hand of Wagner was missing in the scenic as well as in the musical arrangements. The scenery in the courtyard of the castle, and also that of the garden in the second Act, was beautiful, and by comparison the setting of the ship looked characterless and insipid. It was the actors who were the best part of the performance. Rosa Sucher gave a grand impersonation of Isolde which alone would have sufficed to secure a brilliant success for the representation, and for which she has only her great artist's nature to thank - and not (as some would gladly have us believe) the teaching of Frau Wagner. Vogl and Gudehus ran each other very close as Tristan. Of the remaining artists (there were two for each part in the work), those who stood out from among the others were Frau Staudigl as Brangane, Gura as King Mark, and Plank, who as Kurwenal was uncommonly powerful and full of feeling.⁵ In Karlsruhe, where he is free to follow his own intentions, Mottl is said to conduct very differently from the way he does in Bayreuth; this was very likely the case with Tristan. On the whole, it was a good representation of the opera, carried out in extraordinary conditions and with extraordinary power; but it was no ideal performance of a musical-dramatic work of art, such as we had witnessed in 1882 and 1884, and again in 1886, in Parsifal, which was now staged as nobly and artistically as on the previous occasions.⁶

A new and excellent representation of Parsifal had arisen in Vogl. One person only was missing: on the opening day of the festival of 1886 Scaria, the splendid and unsurpassed Gurnemanz, had died at Dresden. Of the new regime which began that year at Bayreuth he knew nothing, and so far nobody has been able to fill his place.

From this time onward I can only judge of the performances by the impression they made on me. I cannot speak from personal experience of what went on behind the scenes, but only repeat what was told me by those who had their information from trustworthy sources. I was convinced that an independent development of one's powers was impossible "under existing conditions" at Bayreuth, and that to serve (that is, to be untrue to oneself) and to wait in humble subservience for marks of favour was not at all in my line. I therefore left Bayreuth before the conclusion of the Festival in 1886 and since then have most carefully avoided any steps that might be taken for an attempt on my part to bring about a rapprochement. By so doing I have gained the privilege of being able to face Bayreuth as a free and independent artist and of not being hindered in any way in speaking out my inmost thoughts - truly an ungrateful task nowadays!...

The next festival year, 1888, brought with it the best and the worst that Bayreuth had to offer in the way of new productions since Wagner's death. The performance of the Meistersinger was striking. In mounting the play the scenic directions of the Master had been exactly followed and, founded on these, the staging was full of life and refinement. Those who took part in the representation attributed the chief credit to that excellent stage manager, Fuchs, of the Munich Opera House, who had received the exact traditions from Wagner himself in 1868, when he rehearsed and conducted the first performance of the work in that town. Distinguished artists had been secured for the chief parts. Who does not remember, besides Sachs, Eva and Walter,⁷ the extremely characteristic Beckmesser of Friedrichs and the lovable and cheeky David of Hofmuller? Kneise, the newly appointed director of the choir, had trained it in masterly fashion. The choruses were so perfectly sung that all laudatory expressions sound inadequate, and the scenic and musical parts of the performance (I mention just the close of the second Act) combined so perfectly as to be eminently worthy of imitation. Hans Richter, the born conductor of the Meistersinger, directed the orchestra. He had an intimate knowledge of his master's intentions and carried them out faithfully, and by the power of his authority he turned away every uncalled-for interference, if any were ventured upon. Let me call attention here to one small point that would not be worthy of comment, having regard to all the excellence that the Meistersinger had to offer, had it not been characteristic of the system of make-believe that was for a time in vogue at Bayreuth. (From what I heard afterwards I gathered that this system proved fatally bad, more especially in the case of Tannhauser). At the end of the second Act why did not the women pour really heavy streams of water onto the combatants below, as is directed and as was done in 1868 at Munich? If the women hold cans out of the windows and make the movement of pouring out and nothing comes, and yet those who are fighting are driven apart, there is an unanswerable contradiction in the action that is made unnecessary and incomprehensible by the holding out of the cans. In a piece like the Meistersinger which, with all its idealism, is yet so realistic, not one realistic effect (moreover one that Wagner had expressly ordered) should be left out.

The production of the Meistersinger was a real triumph for Bayreuth and more especially for the way in which it was mounted. This was all the more delightful, for in the same year something strange and unaccountable had happened to Parsifal. Levi was ill and the musical direction was entrusted to Mottl, and surely nobody could find anything to say against that. But what was the meaning of the reports that filled the air? - "At Wahnfried they are delighted to have at last got rid of Levi. Now Parsifal is in the right hands and for the first time it will be conducted in a 'Christian' manner and will appear as a new work". Levi had studied and conducted Parsifal under the eye of the Master and had become absolutely identified with the work. His conducting of it is an achievement of the first rank. His successor could not and ought not to have done more than carefully administer the treasure that had been confided to his care, for it was nothing less than the inheritance of the Master himself. If Richter can be called the musical custodian of the Meistersinger, then Levi can with equal justice lay claim to the same title with reference to Parsifal. I myself have been witness to the exaggerated marks of gratitude and praise that Frau Wagner lavished upon Levi after many representations of Parsifal that had been specially successful. Why, then, this sudden change of front? Because Levi was a Jew? Was he any less a Jew in 1882 and did he conduct any the less well? You may feel either enmity or friendship for the Semitic race, you may take up any attitude you like towards them on national, artistic, ethical or aesthetic grounds, but it will always be small and unworthy to make on principal a single individual the object of this enmity for no other reasons than the difference of race. In the present case, especially, the esteem due to the great artist Levi should certainly not have been forgotten, certainly not on racial grounds. This should always be a personal affair, and would not have entered into consideration in judging the performances had not these, after Wagner had finally established them, appeared so altered this year that it was impossible to put it all down to artistic reasons. Nothing essential had been changed in the mounting, but musically the work had become positively a new one, and not in the complimentary sense of the word. It was conducted in such a mutilated and dragging tempo that all feeling for melody and the natural continuity of the music was utterly lost. Almost every tempo that had been engraved on our consciousness and had been immovably fixed since 1882 was turned upside down. The second Act came off the best and there was much left in it that called to remembrance the previous years, but the first and last were unrecognisable. Let only one detail be mentioned: the pauses in the overture at the entry of the grail theme were so painfully drawn out that they positively made one anxious. For the rest it is sufficient to prove by figures what I mean. The first Act lasted about twenty minutes, the last at least a quarter of an hour longer than formerly.⁸ Remind yourself that, as I can assert from experience, the time the Rheingold takes in playing, when it is conducted by a Kapellmeister who is inclined to drag the time and then by a conductor who is given to hurrying the time, can be made to vary only by eight or at most ten minutes, and then judge what prolongations were necessary to lengthen one Act alone by more than fifteen minutes. "Mottl has the only correct tempo", Frau Wagner declared categorically; many believed this and, as was solemnly announced in post-prandial speeches, "Parsifal is saved". On what grounds? There were many rumours and suppositions abroad but never a valid explanation. The simplest thing would have been to believe in the "temporary abberation of the intellect" of those who directed affairs were it not that news of this so-called "salvation" had already been intimated to the public and the absolute correctness of the new tempo prophesied by the initiated. They had, therefore, done it with a purpose. Lohengrin, which I saw six years later, came off even worse because the scenery also was a failure; but at least in this case there were no assured traditions to go on and it was still possible to ascibe the numerous grave faults to ignorance. In Parsifal, however, it was impossible to make a mistake. Everyone knew how it ought to be done and the simply destructive encroachments from which the work suffered had been wittingly created, and for reasons that were a puzzle to everyone but the guilty parties. The representations of Parsifal in 1888 were one of the greatest artistic crimes, the greatest of all perhaps, that Bayreuth has ever perpetrated. Let us hope that there are no more like it to follow.

The effect of this exaggerated dragging of the time was disastrous, not only for the work immediately concerned but also for the art of music as a whole. As it is always the maddest and worst that is most willingly aped (witness the epidemic of blood-curdling one Act operas that raged at one time), so it was presently everywhere the fashion to drag the time, not only in Wagner but later also in Mozart, Weber and even in Meyerbeer and Italian opera. The new gospel of the slow time was also preached in the concert hall and soon every fresh and energetic tempo seemed to have disappeared like every drop of blood from the hollow-cheeked faces of the young Bayreuthians. "He has the true Bayreuth tempo" it was declared, or, as one witty Berlin musician is said to have expressed it, "he Mottlizes". Furthermore, Bülow, now no longer young, had already begun to incite others to exaggerations by arbitrariness in his conception and rendering of individual pieces of music. Soon this dragging of the tempo a la Bayreuth and these distortions a la Bülow, knowing the affinity of their natures, entered into the bonds of matrimony, and brought forth a strange child that was nothing else than the Tempo rubato conducting which I have once before attacked with much energy.⁹ Already it shows signs of a premature old age like all things that are not genuine. Nevertheless it flourishes here and there and undermines every healthy feeling by its disastrous affectation. One of the numerous victims offered up to the "Bayreuth tempo" is the Rienzi overture which for a time was much played after the "new conception". This is a piece which bubbles over with youthful spirits, chivalrous, somewhat crude, but not trivial. Compare its want of effect when conducted by a true apostle of Wahnfried to the revolution that it can produce when for once it is played in the right manner.

In the year 1889 Parsifal, the Meistersinger and Tristan were given. Tristan I never heard again in Bayreuth. Since the previous year (1888) the representation of the Meistersinger had fallen off. There was not so much "go" about them. It is said that Richter, detained by his London engagements, came to Bayreuth only for the last rehearsals and left the early ones in other hands. Such a division of labour does not guarantee a faultless success and should not be allowed - least of all at Bayreuth. Parsifal was again conducted by Levi, and the correct tempi were, fortunately, reinstated. They even went so far as to try and hush up the fact that anything had ever been altered; but the same feeling of sanctity did not pervade the whole as before. A foreign element had taken the place of those that had been sanctified by time. The Fleming van Dyck sang Pasifal. He put into the representation of the "Pure Fool" more than all his predecessors and his conception of the character was the admirable result of deep study. Only his foreign accent was a disturbing element. It was the same with Blauvaert, the excellent Mephistophele in Berlioz's Damnation of Faust. He took the greatest pains with Gurnemanz, but the deep inner meaning of the role was beyond the virtuoso singer.¹⁰ However, it was just the chief fault (the disturbing foreign accent) of both artists that was not felt by the greater part of the audience, for Bayreuth had become international.

If many honourable German friends of Bayreuth withdrew from the Festivals after the representations of Parsifal in 1888, the flight was even greater in the following year when the magic of the Meistersinger was not so powerful as before. All the greater was the stream of visitors from foreign lands. Gradually Wagner's works had been given in theatres outside Germany. The news had gone abroad that model performances were to be seen in Bayreuth, and impresarios were the first to hurry there in order to pick up useful information for their respective theatres. Then came the reporters of the big newspapers, followed by the public which began - now that the Germans were holding back - to form the chief contingent among the visitors, and thus to support Bayreuth financially. To keep a hold on the interest of this public and to increase it was now Bayreuth's chief aim. France, and more particularly England and America, still practise the "Star System". Into a second rate ensemble a few celebrated names are incorporated, who are made responsible for the success and profit of the representation without any pity for it as a whole. People no longer go the the opera to hear some particular work but to listen to some famous singer. They are proud of their "stars", make long journeys to hear them and overwhelm them with honours of all kinds. Now, the most natural thing to do was, by securing such foreign celebrities, to attract as many foreign visitors and worshippers as possible, and so to ensure for themselves at the same time a full cash-box, enthusiastic applause and brilliant notices in foreign newspapers from critics, whose national vanity had been tickled by the respect paid to their own particular "star". This idea was carried out by degrees. More and more often one heard of this or that coryphee from over the seas who had been called to Bayreuth to "create" some role, and in Lohengrin this system reached its culminating point.

Annoyed by the experiences of former years, I did not attend the Festivals from 1889 to 1894, and did not hear Tannhauser in Bayreuth.¹¹ Even believing supporters of Frau Wagner's regime find it an embarrassing subject of conversation. They try by hook and by crook to say something complimentary, but cannot do so sincerely, and are constantly obliged to take refuge in qualified statements when they meet unprejudiced criticism. For the sake of Lohengrin I again undertook the pilgrimage to Bayreuth, for I was curious to see what sort of effect this intimate glorious creation of the German master would produce, in a representation in which all the parts with the exception of the King and the Herald were taken by foreign artists.

It was a curious experience. I heard the last performance and was told afterwards that an unlucky star had hovered over it....
But what I saw and heard in this performance cannot have been the result solely of this unlucky star. Lohengrin and Elsa sang in such an affected manner, with such unnatural portamenti out of all time and rhythm, that you could almost imagine what was set before you was Gounod's Faust and Margaret in the dress of a Wagnerian opera.¹² In the third Act Lohengrin sang so out of tune that he ended by making the whole chorus sing unbearably flat. That could, if necessary, be put down to the influence of this unlucky star, but I was told that it had not happened only in the performance at which I was present. Elsa's chief trick consisted in breathing out phrases so pianissimo that, when she had done, all the ladies and gentlemen present broke out into admiring "Achs!" To sing like this in Lohengrin is a mannerism at once inartistic, un-German and offensive. Ortrud and Telramund were a genuinely villainous pair. The make-believe which had before been so much in favour had among other things caused the ridiculous mistakes in Tannhauser, for example when the flying cupids in the Bacchanal scene did not really shoot off their arrows, but flew past with their bows strung and darts ready to be discharged. After the evident failure of Tannhauser, this make-believe seemed to have proved itself too ineffective and they had recourse to undoubtedly more effective exaggerations. When Telramund raves like a madman and Ortrud, at the end of the second Act, before she has to make the threatening gesture to Elsa, sweeps across the whole of the stage with snake-like movements, then we had exactly what Bayreuth ought not and does not wish to be, a "theatre" in the worst sense of the word. During the entire evening very little correct German pronunciation was to be heard. One could hardly blame the artists for that, but were there not in all Germany enough singers who could under proper guidance have carried out these duties better and at least have spared us the jargon caused by the mixture of so many accents? Naturally the foreign visitors were not put out by it, and the honest Germans thought it quite delightful to hear Lohengrin for a change in a distorted version of their native tongue. Many even poured out vials of wrath on those who found anything to say against it. Frau Wagner called Frau Nordica's operatically flavoured Elsa the "triumph of foreign art".¹³ This was the state of affairs in Wagner's German Festival Theatre in the year 1894.

In many respects the staging was awkward and positively clashed with Wagner's directions. The performance of Lohengrin given almost simultaneously at Munich, which raised such a storm of indignation because it seemed by its close proximity to enter into rivalry with Bayreuth, was infinitely more successful and lifelike....
What was particularly striking at Bayreuth was the inclination to impart life to the crowds by a military marching to and fro of the men (first scene of the first Act, and also in the third Act) and the formation of two concentric circles, of which one turned to the left and the other to the right (close of the first and second Acts). Nearly all of the movements of the chorus looked as if they were performed mechanically, and a quick eye could detect the anxious look-out kept by the singers on the wings, where stood the man who had to give the expected signal. This kind of drilling of great numbers is tiring to watch and also often ridiculous: for example, at the close of the first Act, the way the branches of the trees were all of a sudden lifted into the air and waved to and fro in even time. A crowd begins to express its excitement by such signs only by degrees (think how it would be in real life!) and at the instigation of a few, never as if at the word of command. And then one ought to have seen the people, in their growing excitement, breaking the boughs of the trees, for how was it that so many boughs were there ready to hand upon the stage? The stage manager, bien entendu, contents himself with the simple answer: "They lie there piled up in the wings". In Bayreuth there should be no place for such evident carelessness.

Wagner directs that Lohengrin, before he advances to fight the trial by battle, should give Elsa over to the protection of the King. But does that mean that Elsa ought to place herself beside the King on the throne, as was done at Bayreuth? She was certainly a princess and had claims to royal honours; but she is accused of a terrible crime and even if the King were convinced of her innocence he, least of all, should take her side openly before the combat is decided and the judgment thereby pronounced. Afterwards, when the King made ready to say the prayer, they both rose at the same moment, made courtly inclinations to each other and the King descended the steps of the throne. Now, Wagner had supervised the staging of Lohengrin both at Vienna and Munich, and did he ever order such nonsense, for you cannot call such managerial tricks anything else? Certainly not! Elsa placed herself near the King, almost at the foot of the throne, and remained there till she was led by him to Lohengrin, and with the cry "0 fa'nd 'ich Jubelweisen!" hurries towards her champion. In the second Act Wagner orders that the Herald, after his harangue to the knights, should withdraw into the castle. The Herald, however, descended the steps, mingled in the crowd, where the men, placing their hands under his arms, revolved with him, naturally in a circle. How little does this reflect the relations in which a Herald stood towards the knights. In the third Act, when Telramund forces his way into the bridal chamber, we find the following stage directions: "Elsa, who has thrown herself into Lohengrin's arms, sinks slowly to the ground at his feet in a faint". What happened at Bayreuth? Telramund, slain by Lohengrin, falls to earth and the nobles on to their knees, and at the same instant Elsa, as if struck by lightning, measured her length at Lohengrin's feet, so that at one moment there were seven upright figures and the next, only one, and six prone upon the ground. By its very suddenness it was a stirring coup de theatre which elicited a movement of surprise from all those who were present. But what would Wagner have said to the changes made in his so delicately thought-out directions? These are only a few examples, and by no means exhaust the catalogue of sins.

For the first time the acoustics of the half covered-in orchestra were disappointing, and sounded dull and without charm. The whole blame could not be laid on the screen which covers it in, for the far more thinly instrumented Meistersinger sounded magnificently. The great ensemble passages of the first and second Acts went very unsteadily and uncertainly. The "Bayreuth tempo" flourished as it did in the luckless Parsifal of 1888 and spread its long drawn-out endless threads over the whole work like a monstrous spider does her web, so that for the first and only time Lohengrin seemed to be too long.²⁴

Yet one other occurence of the 1894 Festival must be mentioned here, and alas! it also concerned Parsifal. One fine day Frau Nordica threatened to leave the place if her future husband did not sing Parsifal; and he did sing Parsifal - certainly only once, but in such a manner that even friendly critics characterised his performance with a word which I dare not here repeat....

In my pamphlets "On Conducting" and on "Dilettantism, Tricks of the Trade, and Patronage" I stated that such things would not have come to pass if Bülow, in the fulness of his power as an artist and a man, had succeeded Wagner at the head of affairs. Some have argued that I made these assertions without being able to prove them. Although the attentive reader can hardly have failed to perceive the proofs for himself, yet, all the same, I will repeat them clearly as a summary of what I have already said. The engagement of artistically unsuitable singers, with the object of attracting foreign visitors, was a trick of the trade, and a very paying one. No wise person will deny that Bayreuth had to make money, even a lot of money, to be able to keep up the old operas and to mount new ones. But they ought to have gone forward more slowly. Parsifal, which can be acted nowhere else in the world and now hardly costs them anything, would, if it had been worthily given, have brought in enough money to enable them to let Wagner's other works appear at longer intervals. The Festivals of 1884 and 1886 were, moreover, well attended, that of 1888 brilliantly so. If Parsifal had not been so incomprehensibly changed, Bayreuth's success in 1888 would in all respects have been complete, and there would have been no necessity to call in aid foreign attractions. Even if the Wagner family do not make anything out of the Festivals (and no one doubts that), the purely artistic interests should never be sacrificed to the material, not even with the intention of gaining an object more quickly, because by so doing the ideal character that Wagner desired for the Festivals, and which outwardly everyone wishes to acknowledge, would at once be lost.

Above all, I call the way the crowds were drilled in Lohengrin amateur and, further, inartistic. There was also a want of understanding that showed up the managerial tricks - for example, when Elsa stamps her foot like a spoilt child to whom a toy is denied as Lohengrin resists her pressing questions as to his name. Then again, Frau Wagner interfered in purely musical concerns with which she is not sufficiently familiar. Certainly in this respect the greatest guilt must be laid at the door of the non dilettanti, or perhaps sometimes even at that of the docile "Herren Dirigenten", who had no wills of their own and sacrificed their convictions simply for the honour of having conducted at Bayreuth. Had more people possessed of backbone been there, then Herr Siegfried Wagner would certainly not have dared to write his idiotic letter recently published in Die Redenden Kunste. It has already several times been categorically answered. Finally, so far as concerns Frau Nordica in the above-mentioned incidents connected with Parsifal, contempt is a mild term. I think I have said enough to prove my case.

To make a friendly bridge to the following criticism of the representations of the Nibeiungen Tetralogy of this year (1896) in so far as they deserve it, let me enumerate that little which was good and excellent in Lohengrin. Grengg gave a magnificent rendering of the part of the King.⁶ What good it did one to hear a real native German singer! The chorus was remarkably fine, more especially that of the men in the second Act. The effect of the chorus "In Früh'n versammelt uns der ruf" ("The summons calls us early") simply carried one away. It was not the fault of its members that later on they sang flat. In the third Act the big Bayreuth stage was transformed with noteworthy art into the small bridal chamber. Childlike pages bearing lights opened the door and, as proportionately few people appeared upon the scene, the very intimate character of the incident was retained. Lohengrin's first appearance was very impressive. When the first cry, "The swan!" thrills through the crowd, it is immediately mastered by a feeling of expectancy which presently grows to an outburst of joy. At that moment, certainly, no one present could fail to share in the general emotion. Here, then, we had - alas! only for one minute - what Wagner really wanted, namely, that his work of art should appear to be a brilliant improvisation of the actors. It is true that the stage crowds are trained to produce this effect. But this was not discernible and the result was - ART! The success of the above-mentioned dramatic moment and of those who took part in it make it seem doubly regrettable that all of the rest had failed so signally.

*****

The representations of the Nibeiungen which were given to celebrate the twenty years' Jubilee of the Festivals did not reach the same pitch of excellence as the Meistersinger of 1888 but - be it said with heartfelt pleasure - attained a higher level than anything offered by Bayreuth since that date. Of the first cycle I heard little that was complimentary, even from those who are easily moved to sing paeans of praise. I was therefore all the more agreeably surprised by what I saw and heard at the second. The real reason for this well-founded higher estimation will become evident later on; in the meantime, let the single items be considered. Let us begin with the musical part. The first conviction that forced itself upon one was that, either Frau Wagner had come to her senses and had discovered that the long drawn-out tempi which she had up till then prescribed resulted only in unnatural and paralysing effects, and tended to make the general impression of the work of art a disappointing one; or else that Mottl, who conducted the second cycle magnificently, proved himself more independent than before. Already in the Rheingold it struck me that the notorious "Bayreuth tempo" had disappeared. An energetic and life-giving sense of progress was again to be heard where it was wanted and broad passages were no longer so distorted as to allow single notes only to be heard rather than the whole phrase. This observation was confirmed during the three following evenings and was stimulating and cheering. In a word the orchestra played magnificently, as well on the dynamic and rhythmic as on the thematic side; the tone was entrancingly beautiful, and it never played too loud.

I should like here to express some purely personal views on the tempi in the Nibeiungen. The first Act of Walkure, as well as that of Siegfried, presents a situation in which an elemental, uncontrollable power leads up to the central incident of the scene - in Walkure the powerful, all-consuming passion of Siegmund and Sieglinde; in Siegfried the holy, irresistible inspiration to complete the sword. The music expresses the innermost and most intimate soul of the situation and its primordial power, never checked but ever increasing, should also be expressed in the tempi by a continuous crescendo that lasts during the whole incident. Naturally there are decrescendi and ritenuti, but I should like to set forth this problem, which is simply a matter of feeling and difficult to state fully in words, in the following way: "The conductor should draw over the whole scene an ever-rising, never-interrupted line of waves". This harmonious line I missed in the above-mentioned scenes; they seemed to me to be too much broken up into detail. It is only the steady, irresistible crescendo to be found indicated in Wagner's directions as to time that can express the increasing tempo of the orchestral postlude, which rises at moments almost to a frenzy; for when it has not been led up to, but erupts suddenly, it does more to check the receptive mood than it does to explain. Moreover, a motif sometimes appears, at first just on its own, either to introduce one of the characters or to prepare for some event, and then in the same form but as an accompaniment to the artist. In the last case ought it not to be taken rather quicker - perhaps I should say less emphatically - than before? For instance, in the second scene of the Rheingold, if the whole conversation between Wotan and the giants were taken in the time of the first giant motif, then intelligent speaking and singing would be made impossible for the actors without their breaking up the words and phrases. The same occurs in the third Act of Siegfried at the words "Ein Vbglein schwatzt wohl Manches" and from then onwards. If the conductor does not make things move more quickly the artists do it for themselves out of a proper feeling for the expression of the phrases in question. The conductor must then do his best to make the orchestra keep up with them, and unpleasant vacillations are the result. As a witness of the scene once told me, at a rehearsal of Rheingold when it was being too pathetically treated, Wagner called out to the artists, "Be more light in hand, my children; this is a comedietta we are playing". The spirit, if not the words, of this remark should be taken to heart. A more graceful tempo would also have been desirable in the scene of the Rhine Daughters in Gotterdammerung. As far as the singing was concerned, the Rhine Daughters were in every respect the weak point of the performance; their voices did not harmonise and they sang very flat.¹⁷ It should also be mentioned here that the Woodbird was undoubtedly placed far too much in the background; neither word nor voice could be distinguished.

The decorative and technical parts of the representations were generally successful. It is true that just the most difficult scenic problems seemed to be as little satisfactorily resolved at Bayreuth as elsewhere. We must make an exception for the first scene at the bottom of the Rhine. None who saw with what real grace the Rhine Daughters swam, how freely they moved yet with no apparent support, how they dived through the waters with the speed of lightning in perfect unison with the music, now united and then again far apart, would ever again be able to tolerate the clumsy bathing machines which until then had been in use. The Rhinegold itself shone out much too late. When Flosshilde sings the words "Schaut er lachelt in lichtem Schein" it ought already to have begun to glow, so as to be seen in full splendour at the cry "Heiajaheia". Would it also not have been possible for the golden gleam which is supposed to shine from the highest point of the rock to have been more imaginatively represented than by the bright speck of light that finally appeared? The eye was well satisfied by the change between the two scenes, but the ear was disturbed by noise. This is a shortcoming which could easily be rectified. In the same way, the clouds of steam which rise when Alberich makes himself invisible ought not to give out so much sound. At this point it was impossible to hear the pianissimo stopped horns which play the Tarnhelm motif. The pillar of smoke representing Alberich as he makes a stormy exit glided away slowly; it should have disappeared more quickly. The snake into which the dwarf transforms himself did not appear until a few beats after it should have been visible as indicated by the music. In Bayreuth they ought to attend more carefully than they do to the harmonious co-operation of the music and the action, for this is most necessary for the general effect.

The stage picture of Nibelheim was in perfect harmony with the spirit of the scene. It might be questioned whether the bright red glowing steam that rose from the cleft in the background did not make Loge's words, "Durche bleiche Nebel was blitzen dort feurige Funken", a contradiction. Unquestionably the Rainbow Bridge must be completely altered when the closing scene of Rheingold is repeated. The effect of the small bit of rainbow painted in pale, insignificant colours was pitiable; the gods did not dare step on it but contented themselves with Wotan stretching out his foot towards it.

The scenery of the second Act of waikure was remarkably beautiful, but some technical method ought to be found by which such very apparent steps in the property rocks could be avoided. In prehistoric times of uncertain date there were as yet no Alpine Societies to make the difficult paths easy for the tourists by cutting steps in the rock for them. Possibly they are not out of place in the second Act of Gotterdamerung, for it might be supposed that the inhabitants had made the path up to the sacrificial stone more comfortable. Even then I do not admire them, and in the second Act of Walkure where the scene is laid far from all human habitation, they are very out of place. Again, why is the light suddenly turned full upon Siegmund as he stands on the spur of the mountain ready for the fight with Hunding? Was that an oversight or was it done on purpose? It ought to be just possible to distinguish the outline of the combatants through the thick clouds, which from time to time are lit up by flashes of lightning. "Konnt ich sie sehen!" cries Sieglinde. It is only the white light emanating from Brunnhilde and the red light emanating from Wotan that should illuminate the spur of the mountain. The half-hidden diminutive Valkyries on their tiny horses failed to give the idea of the courageous warrior maidens who fly through the air. It is, however, difficult to satisfy the imagination on this point. In Vienna the ride of the Valkyries is done with real horses, in Paris a mechanical switchback is used. Best of all, I believe, is clouds driven by the wind, from time to time brilliantly illuminated by lightning, with the image of a Valkyrie thrown on these clouds, perhaps by a reflector. But a great deal must always be left to the imagination of the spectator in this scene.

On all four evenings the cloud technique stood the test remarkably. I have never seen the various passing clouds and mists of heaven so truly and yet so artistically represented as this year (1896) at Bayreuth. I call attention only to the fiery mists in Siegfried as they floated downwards, and to the rising mists of the Rhine and their gradual dispersion at Siegfried's death. Sometimes a cloud effect was brought directly into connection with the action so as to heighten its significance. That is extremely dangerous and can very easily become theatrical if it is not carried out, as it was in this case, with the greatest discretion and delicacy. During the great melody in E major, after Wotan's words, "Denn Einer nur freie die Braut, der freier als ich der Gott", the setting of the sun was seen in the heavens, expressed by a tender illumination of the clouds. The departing sun and the departing god! That produced a most moving effect, as did also the short blood-red flash on the horizon, already darkening towards night, when Wotan pronounces his incantation, "Wie dann einst du wir schwandest als schweifende Lohe". Imagination pictures the Fire God sweeping towards you, a mass of flames on darkly glowing wings. In the third Act of Siegfried, when the Wanderer breaks out into the words, "Es (das Voglein) floh dir zu seinem Heil", and his mood changes suddenly to one of depression and threatening, the sky darkened and the clouds raced wildly along, as if once again they could share the anger of the old Father of the Gods before the matchless hero strikes the mighty spear into pieces. These were truly great moments.¹⁸

The Magic Fire Music was not particularly successful. Wotan himself is the first to be surrounded by the flames of Loge whom he has raised by his incantation, and then he should direct the flame with his spear into a circle around the rock, yet neither direction was executed. A modern firework display should be completely avoided. The Roman Candles let off from behind the rocks were childish; also, I consider it most undesirable that the roaring of the wind in the first Act of waikure should be heard before the curtain goes up. Stage effects from behind closed curtains are familiar in Dinorah and Cavalleria; in Wagner they should be strictly prohibited. It is only when the stage picture is visible that knowledge of what is happening there can reach us. The scenery of the first Act of Siegfried was beautiful, that of the third grand, but the second was less successful. The cleft in which Alberich had his den looked, not without reason, like a giant mole-hill. However, it took up too much room, so that there was not enough space left for the forest. Here the scenery ought to bring out the sunny, friendly character of the forest if it is to inspire Siegfried during the Forest Murmurs with so many tender thoughts and so much food for reflection. Why did not the sword glow when Siegfried drew it from the fire? No one can forge cold iron. Also Siegfried struck the anvil with the hammer more often than the sword. It is a mistake in the direction to let Mime stretch himself in perfect comfort on Siegfried's couch while the latter forges. Siegfried would have chased him off it as one would chase a mangy dog that has crept into one's bed.

Fafner, the dragon, should look as if he belongs to the lizard family, and not be represented with the head of a hippopotamus. He should appear lazy as to the possession of the ring but terrible in power as its master. Also, he did not come straight out from the background of the cavern, but sideways. If this is easier for the technique of the apparatus, then let them paint the cavern more on one side, but it would be better if both dragon and cavern were seen full face. The fight was certainly not convincing. The little puffs of smoke which came out of the nose of the hippopotamus did not realise one's idea of a gigantic fabulous creature vomiting forth fire from its nostrils. Siegfried did not spring over the back of the animal and Fafner did not raise the forepart of his body sufficiently, so that Siegfried (as in most other theatres) had to let his sword disappear somewhere about his side, instead of thrusting it into the dragon's heart. The movements of the creature's mouth were well done, but the voice of the singer did not sound as if it came from inside Fafner's body, but from one side; also, it sounded too weak, too human, in spite of its harshness. Possibly the fault lay in the fact that the speaking trumpet was too small. Only when he is mortally wounded does the voice take on a softer, more touching tone. Wagner knew perfectly well what he was doing when he ordered the use of two speaking trumpets. If only his directions where always carried out! Fafner's appearance is better managed in many theatres (more especially in Munich) than at Bayreuth. Later on, when Siegfried is supposed to thrust the body of the dead dragon into the cavern, it was for a long time still visible after Siegfried had ceased pushing and it seemed to prefer to withdraw as a moving corpse into its den of its own free will. In Bayreuth no pains should be spared to put such scenes, which are so easily made ridiculous, faultlessly upon the stage. Mime's pretending to take refuge behind the dragon's body so that Siegfried may kill him there certainly facilitates the change between the real Mime and the dummy which Siegfried later throws back into the cavern. Yet it looks unnatural and artificial, as the use of a so-called dummy always must. Mime is much too cowardly to venture of himself near to the jaws of the dead Fafner. If a true picture is to be created, then Fafner's gigantic dead body must be the background, rather than the cave; Siegfried should stand nearer the front of the small hill before the den, and Mime should creep up the rising path that leads to it, till at last he gets quite near to Siegfried. The Woodbird was most unpoetically represented. Without any noticeable action of the wings, it was drawn in a series of jerky movements fairly slowly across the stage. I hunted in vain for it in the third Act. In the same Act the change of scene through the fiery clouds was a veritable triumph of stage management and scenery.

The scene of the Norns at the beginning of Gotterdamerung was most inspiring. It was a good idea for each Norn, throughout the time she spins and sings, to be illuminated by a special magic light of her own, so that the inner illumination should be visible at the same time. However, this light ought not to touch the surrounding scenery, but should rest exclusively on the one figure to whom it belongs. In the next change of scene to the Hall of the Gibichungen the deep blue colour of the water was too striking. It was the blue of Lake Como at Bellaggio, not that of the Rhine. Why did Hagen persistently turn his back on Gunther and Gutrune all the time he sat at table with them? It was a grave mistake of the stage management for the boat with Siegfried aboard to arrive floating against the stream whilst Siegfried quietly holds his horse. This boat is not driven by any supernatural power, not even a demonaical; Siegfried ought simply to row it. At the end of the second Act of Gotterdammerung the stiff-legged stuffed sacrificial bulls which were pushed onto the stage seemed to me as unnatural as the rams in Fricka's chariot in waikure. The first scene of the third Act is very beautiful. It is possible that here the swimming of the Rhine Daughters might be made to appear more natural. It looked as if they were walking about in the water in a shallow part. In the final scene of Gotterdammerung Wagner's directions were faithfully carried out but, to those who sat in front, the children who represented the gods were placed far back so as to make them appear of the necessary smallness and contrasted too much with the figures painted on the flat background, so that these looked too large in proportion. The destruction of the hall was quite dreadful and reminded one of Le Prophete. How could men and women remain alive in a house that had been visited with such destruction? They all stood quietly at the front of the stage whilst the roof fell to pieces over their heads. The fire of the funeral pyre ought at most to touch the Hall, but not enough to obstruct the view of the background. The paper Brunnhilde which flew into the flames was simply comic. In Munich Frau Vogl¹⁹ has made it possible to spring onto a horse which she has broken in herself, and to leap with it into the blazing pile of logs. Side by side with much that was really excellent, both decoratively and technically, there was also much that was wanting; still, as a whole, the scenery of the Nibelungen is far better at Bayreuth than in other places. The tasks set by Wagner are so immense that it is only oft-repeated attempts that will lead to the final goal, and every suggestion that helps forward to that object ought to be gratefully received.

It is impossible to say much that is complimentary of the dresses. Here an attempt at unwholesome originality was apparent that was entirely unsuited to the style of the work. To begin with, the three Rhine Daughters appeared, to the astonishment of all, in three different colours, pink, white and blue. They are beings born in the elements in which they live, they ought, so to speak, to personify it, and therefore can only appear in the colour of the element - a bluey-green, exactly the colour of the surrounding waters. Furthermore, part of their hair was dressed in the latest fashion. Who is the hairdresser at the bottom of the Rhine who turned them out so well? One pictures them to oneself as having hair and limbs wreathed fantastically in reeds and water flowers, and everything that suggests the fashions of today should be most carefully avoided for these beings. In Rheingoid the way they dived and swam charmed and surprised one, and in any event the curtain which represented the green waters partly hid what was faulty, so that it was all the more noticeable in Gotterdammerung.. . . What did Freia look like? She wore a pinky-violet dress with large dark flowers either woven into the fabric or embroidered on it. It was held up round the waist with a girdle and had medieval German puffed sleeves. Frau Wagner seems to have a strong predilection for such sleeves, for Fricka, Gutrune and Waltraute were also got up a la Gretchen. I did not find anything to complain of in the much-abused dress of Froh. It was the colour of young leaves and that did very well for him.²⁰ On the other hand Fafner and Fasolt were simply comic - the one black as a charcoal-burner, the other as white as an Arctic hare. As they stood side by side they looked like iced chocolate cakes in the confectioner's shop. The noble Gunther appeared as one of the kings in a pack of cards, and his vassals did not realise the picture one imagined for oneself of what German giants were like. They were too feeble, too modern. Such figures would do very well at a "medieval German masked ball". In the present case the roughest looking is also the most correct. Why did Hagen and his vassals not use bulls' horns instead of gracefully twisted metal instruments, the very look of which betrayed that they could not possibly give out the powerful notes that struck the ear? (The story is that they were copied from metal horns found in Sweden which can be proved to belong to primeval ages. That may be; the purely historical has no value whatsoever on the stage. Let those who want information on this point refer to Wagner's writings.)

The most interesting and important factor of the Festival was the artists who took part in it. Let it be said by way of preliminary that the usual bad tricks which one hoped to have the right to find discarded in Bayreuth were still very noticeable: for instance, singing to the audience over the footlights, the anxious gaze fixed upon the conductor, the extremely bad custom of coming too much to the front of the stage, and an apparent want of interest in what is going on when not singing. In all this the representations were little different from the operas of olden times. These reasons are sufficient for there being for the moment no question of a distinct "Bayreuth style", or what one occasionally hears referred to as "the incomparable art of Bayreuth". A happy chance led me to the second cycle, by which I was enabled to see and form an opinion of some pupils from Frau Wagner's school which is directed by her right-hand man, Herr Kniese. It is a delightful idea to take young people with good voices who have as yet never appeared on the stage, and to train them by months or perhaps even years of study for great undertakings. It is well known that Richard Wagner himself had envisaged the plan of founding a school, but unfortunately was unable to carry it out. In 1876 he had trained the young singer Linger for the part of Siegfried.²¹ It is said that the results did not come up to expectations, Linger did not have a remarkably good voice and possessed little talent. Wagner had let himself be carried away by a pleasing appearance. If even he could not completely realise his intentions with a singer who was not naturally gifted, how much less likely was it that others would succeed?...

The singers who have come from the School of Singing gave proofs of most industrious study, but none of them offered finished artistic renderings of their parts. Breuer as Mime was the best.²² If - in many passages (particularly at the end of the first Act, where Mime in a frenzied madness that borders on insanity already imagines himself King of the Dwarves and ruler over everything) he was wanting in greatness - one might almost say in malicious greatness - yet his rendering of the part was most characterful and, for a beginner, simply astonishing. Friedrichs, the unsurpassable Beckmesser, who played Alberich, was a remarkable artist before he came to Bayreuth. He cannot therefore be called a pupil of the school. He can only let himself be numbered among them in so far as it pleased him to adopt, in consequence of false counsels, a style of pronouncing his words that often hampered his singing. As I shall not have to refer again to this peculiarity, I will not dwell on it longer. Friedrichs' Alberich was extraordinarily good as a piece of acting and there was something about it which deserves to be noticed above all else - it was an harmonious performance. It was a human being, perfect in all details, who stood before us....

Burstaller as Siegfried gave a rendering of the part of which one was forced to say, in the first place, "All honour to such training!"²³ A singer who on his first appearance on the stage undertakes the gigantic task of acting Siegfried, and of whom one notices that he remains for the most part fully conscious of the directions given him, can lay claim to no small share of admiration. Whether all the directions given were good is certainly another question. Burgstaller has a magnificent appearance. The head is not beautiful but on the stage it is expressive. The excessive thinness of the very symetrically built body was not unsuited to the part of the young hero, but everything you could think of was attempted to show off this pleasing appearance as much as possible. Every time he was not singing and was of necessity standing still he placed himself with a single movement about three-quarters profile to the audience, his legs and the upper parts of his body held rigidly together, and the head thrown backwards rather on one side. This typical attitude was so often repeated that anyone who knew the work thoroughly could not help knowing beforehand when it was going to come again. Now and then he turned his back to the public, still in the same attitude, for the public was to have the advantage of seeing him from that viewpoint also. While Mime tells him the story of his mother, he stood quite in profile to the auditorium, one leg placed in advance of the other, his body leaning forward somewhat, and his hands with the fingers rather bent stretched out towards Mime. The intention was evident. He was supposed to be drinking in the words as they fell from Mime's lips, holding his breath with excitement; but the rigidity of the attitude was unnatural and artificial. Only the photographer was wanting. How was it that the stage manager allowed him to come forward at the words, "Heiss ward wir von der harten Last" (end of the second Act) with sheerly clownish movements which were repeated on every fourth beat (the augmented third)? Such a hero as Siegfried would never stand as Burgstaller had to stand, with his knees doubling up under him, even if he were tired out by hard work.

This, and other unnecessary points of the same kind which he had most obviously been taught, impressed one disagreeably during almost the whole performance,²⁴ but there was still something very attractive about this Siegfried. He had a good voice, somewhat baritonal in quality, and, best of all, he seemed to possess reserves of power. In his acting, as in his singing, he just simply went straight ahead and paid no attention to light and shade. When he threw away the useless reed he did it as if it were a great stone which he had to hurl from him. When he came on with the half-jesting words, "Ein Albe fuhrte mich irr" (first scene, third Act of Gotterdammerung) he sang with as much power as if it were again a question of his killing Fafner. The continual forcing of the voice to its utmost limits took its revenge in the failure of tone, often in the most important passages. In the middle of the full excersise of his powers he would suddenly remember some order he had been given and he would then carry it out; the result was usually something unnatural in attitude or gesture. In a finished artist these would be considered serious faults, but in a novice one does not judge them so severely. One felt that frequently he did not argue about these orders, and that it was only this spirit of obedience which made him comply with the directions he was given; and so one got the impression that he had strong artistic instincts of his own which would presently develop through an independent and free study of the task imposed. Sometimes, in the middle of carrying out these directions, almost unconsciously he would find himself in opposition to them, and then he would try and show himself an obedient pupil to those who had trained him by keeping his own inclinations in the background. One more hopeful promise left us by Burgstaller's artistic rendering of Siegfried was that the future would bring forth more Siegfrieds, and not just Turridus and Bajazzos.

Burgstaller and the other pupils were occasionally uncertain in their singing, and thereby were often at variance with the orchestra, especially in Siegfried; but this can be forgiven on the plea that they were novices in their acting. At the same time, it might well be asked whether we go to Bayreuth to see a student performance. But what was quite unpardonable was the way the scene of the Valkyries was sung. Whole passages were left out and the prompting voice of the conductor was plainly audible. In an ordinary theatre such a thing would have been energetically resented; in Bayreuth it all seemed "exquisite" to many people.

If Burgstaller's Siegfried and some other renderings called attention to much that was cheering, they also confirmed an observation that has often been made and painfully felt: that is, the utter deterioration of the art of singing in Germany. Correct voice production, the right blending and shading of tones and well thought out musical phrasing are seldom to be found in any of the rising young artists. In Bayreuth everything is sacrificed to pronunciation. This is carried to such lengths that the singers sometimes no longer sing but rather speak, which can only be justified in exceptional cases. (What Wagner wrote in schauspieier and sanger of the Fidelio of Frau Schroder-Devrient should be read by all.) Already the Bayreuth School of Singing has won for itself the nickname of the "Consonant School" - and not without reason. The consonants are hurled forth with a hissing sound that lacerates the words, not only to the detriment of the vowel when it falls on a sustained note, but also to the injury of the tone. The words are, moreover, often mispronounced as, for instance, e as i, a as the French a as in "an", etc. Is Wagner's work as an artist not also fundamentally connected with the art of singing? "Singing Wagner ruins the voice", and "Wagnerian artists can no longer sing Mozart", are cant phrases that one is forced to listen to ad nauseam. Let those who say such things hear Vogl sing Octavio and Tamino. The young people ought to learn to sing, as their elders have done before them, and ought not to appear on stage until they can. Then they will also understand how to sing Mozart and no Wagner role will ruin their voices. From time immemorial a thorough education in the technique of voice production has been the indispensable condition of an artistic performance, and in this Wagner has changed nothing. How often did he implore the artists, if they wanted to carry out his work according to his intentions, to sing every single note as he had written it. Certainly, a distinct pronunciation and a clear-cut method of speaking are absolutely necessary, no less of a singer than of an actor. But cannot the arts of speaking and singing be united so as to help each other? For instance, Friedrichs certainly endowed Alberich with the qualities of "haste, greed, hatred and anger" as Wagner required, and which he praised in Hill's rendering of the part.²⁵ But Hill was a singer of the first rank and never neglected to sing musically, even when the most intense expression was required of him. The same may be said of the distinguished Schleper of Leipzig, but alas! not of Friedrichs. In the second Act of Siegfried the scene between Alberich and Mime no longer belonged to music-drama but to melodramatic farce, played with orchestral accompaniment by two half-speaking, half-shrieking dwarves. What Wagner says in his "Retrospect of the Festival of 1876" about the way the gigantic task given to Wotan in the second Act of Walkure should be carried out ought to be read by all. Wagner, writing of Franz Betz, says: "For the rendering of the part, for the management of the voice, of the tone, and by means of speech itself, nothing short of everything had to be thought out afresh and to be repeated until he had made it his own. A year's earnest preparation was necessary to make my singer master of a style which he had to discover for himself as he puzzled out his task". But will a singer be capable of discovering a new style for a fresh part if he is not already perfect master of his voice in all its registers, and thus understands the language of speech in the spirit of music, and the music that is in the spirit of speech? He will no more be able to do this than a workman who does not even know how to handle his tools will be in a position to offer something in his trade. And, moreover, have we not this year, during the last Festival, been witness of this combination in the highest perfection? I refer to Rosa Sucher and Heinrich Vogl. Their Sieglinde and Loge were renderings that towered above all the rest. They recreated Wagner's works of art for us and raised us again to the heights of inspiration we had reached in Bayreuth when Wagner's intentions were revealed to us through himself and the artists he had chosen.

As to what they really think in Wahnfried nowadays of those great times, I first learnt to my own satisfaction from the accounts of the second cycle written by Mr Houston Stewart Chamberlain, the editor of the new "Biography of Wagner". After invectives hurled at Frau Lilli Lehmann,²⁶ whom he reproaches for her method and the compass of her voice, and calls them tricky, we read in his own words that "the Nibelungen of 1876 and Parsifal of 1882 were carried out with the support of artists who were more or less spoilt for Wagner's intention". That agrees perfectly with the previously mentioned unfavourable comments on those artists I had heard ten years before at Wahnfried. What are Frau Wagner and the disseminators of her opinions and wishes aiming at? Is the memory of the Festivals held during her husband's lifetime to be disparaged so as to make what his wife has since accomplished appear all the more brilliant? And if anything so monstrous had really been intended, are there no men there who dare speak up boldly and check this boundless offence against all justice? If Richard Wagner had lived to see the Festival of 1896, how he would have longed for his Niemann, his Hill, his Betz, his Materna, those fundamentally strong, healthy personalities! How it would have pleased him to hear his Loge, after twenty years as young and fresh as ever! The hurry with which he had to carry out his great work at that time may have been the cause why he did not then smooth out many shortcomings and left much that was still imperfect; but, to take only one of the artists mentioned, what would the appearance today of a Niemann mean for the Festivals! What an impression the first Act of Walkure made upon us when he was still in active work! And are such artists to be considered "spoilt" for the purposes of the Master? And Mr Chamberlain dares to state that openly? If, in his long-winded and rosy-tinted report, he wanted to excuse the imperfections he himself had to acknowledge in the performances by the presence of an incomparable ensemble, then I must state that, according to my ideas, that is the direct opposite of the truth, for it was exactly this general impression which was lacking at Bayreuth. If it had existed the details which had failed would have been less painfully apparent, and perhaps hardly worth mentioning. But Chamberlain may have been convinced that it was there, and no one can dispute his right to say so. His statement must, however, be absolutely controverted if it is made with the intention of putting what is now offered at Bayreuth in a more favourable light, and if it injures those artists whose artistic work is forever inseperably bound up with Wagner's and ought to serve as a model for coming generations. History shows us many examples of similar laughable time-serving.

There is still a word to be said about Frau Gulbranson,²⁷ the fourth pupil of the Bayreuth School of Singing. She sang much better than the others. Her voice is fine and full of feeling, and her acting and appearance were childlike and maidenly in character; and, as was often and truly remarked, there was nothing of the prima donna about her. On the other hand, she was lacking in grandeur and dramatic power. Her awakening in Siegfried was insignificant and her acting in the the second and third Acts of Gotterdammerung was obviously studied, especially in the scene where, with her hand on the point of the spear, she calls down death on Siegfried's head. Here her strength failed her completely. It is impossible to say how far Frau Gulbranson's natural gifts and how far the Bayreuth School are answerable for this, and it is equally impossible to surmise how she would act and sing away from Bayreuth when less under the influence of that place. But it will always be preposterous and absurd to attempt to replace talent and individuality by school training. Wagner once said, "We must quicken our power of discerning genius, so as to recognise it at once whenever it appears". How far is Bayreuth nowadays from following this advice! Those who have seen Frau Materna, Frau Sucher and Frau Reicher - Kindermann can have some idea of what Wagner imagined Brunnhilde to be.²⁸ The Mannheim Court Theatre once possessed a Brunnhilde in Cacilie Mohor who was unfortunately lost to the stage far too early though her marriage, and she far surpassed Frau Gulbranson. In comparison with the others it was difficult to follow what she sang, even if tolerably familiar with the poem. She is a Swede and is still at daggers drawn with the German Language. She is less to be blamed for this than it is to be wondered at that more among the relatively few Germans present seemed even to have noticed it. Nowhere have I heard this remarkable shortcoming even mentioned, much less blamed.

This want of perception on so weighty a question gives me a starting point for some reflections on the administration of the Festivals, as well as on the German public. It was certainly quite right to use every available means to make it possible for the Bayreuth Festivals to continue and to carry out Wagner's idea of a school of singing. Certainly the courage, the active force, and also the wisdom with which Frau Cosima Wagner has placed herself at the head of the artistic and practical administration of the Festivals deserved admiration and appreciation. But, when judging by the results, it must in the first place be asked what sort of personality can venture to take up and carry on such powerful and world-stirring ideas as Wagner's. Devotion and determination are not of themselves sufficient to carry them through to completion. Wagner was a German master, with Weber the most German that has ever lived. Beethoven's music, though having its roots in German soil, embraces the whole world and, in its incomprehensible, immeasurable greatness, expresses ideas embracing all humanity. He was therefore not essentially a dramatist but lived and created chiefly in the sphere of absolute music. To Wagner, on the other hand, can be applied the words he cried over Weber's grave: "See, now the Briton does justice to you, the Frenchman admires you, but the Germans alone can love you!" The innermost soul of his work was German; it was planned for Germans and by Germans it should be carried out. The wife and successor of the Master, the present head of the Festivals, is Magyar on her father's side, on her mother's French, and she is therefore anything but German. It is also a very moot point whether a human being who is the outcome of such a heterogeneous combination of nationalities can ever quite grasp in their fulness the intrinsically German, fundamental thoughts of the Wagnerian works of art. Further, it may be questioned whether a woman can ever be capable of bringing these fundamental thoughts into living expression and producing them out of her own resources. I purposely say "produce", for a perfect rendering of the Wagnerian works of art is far more than so-called reproduction in the arts of acting, singing, conducting and stage management. It demands a realisation in its entirety of the picture to be created, a realisation which must have something of the quality of genius in it, in addition to the minutest technical knowledge of all the departments connected with it; and it demands also the ability of so imparting in detail to others what has been visualised, in the most intimate and intense manner, that, as in a perfect organism each limb fits in with the other and none does too much or too little, so out of the divided parts the whole undivided picture is recreated. This active power is absolutely new and was previously non-existent, as it only became really necessary for the first time for Wagner's works of art; and it therefore implies a completely new capacity which has never been known before.

Such a capacity must have an essentially productive character, not equivalent to poetry or composition, but necessarily complementing it and so in some degree forming the third power of a firm union. The artist, in Wagner's sense of the word, must himself be able to put his work into verse and to music, and to produce it. This includes putting these works on the stage and eventually conducting them. He must also thoroughly understand the art of designing scenery and dress; in fact, be capable of an active, comprehensive superintendence over the whole. It is only a combination of these three capacities that makes it possible really to create the work of art so that it lives in the performance and does not exist just on paper. The last of these three capacities (which I should like to call the capacity of getting works of art represented) should extend to the works of others of all kinds, as well as the original works of the man who undertakes to get them represented. The former, instilled with life with the same love and intensity as the latter, will appear with a freshness and impressiveness hitherto undreamt of. Wagner's conducting of the Beethoven symphonies illustrated this, for no one could call that mere reproduction. Dramatic works after his own conception, apart from his own, did not exist and so it was only in them that he showed his power of representing works of art, so far as the stage is concerned. Until now he alone has been master of this universal art of representing works of art, and only a creative artist will again be able to call it his own. He alone will possess the necessary capacity for improvisation in the highest sense of the word, as demanded by Wagner, and so stamp on his productions the character of eternal youth and spontaneous, fresh feeling. No one, however, will succeed in this who is a one-sided stage-manager, conductor, actor or singer. A woman least of all will possess this quality, for women can never produce works of genius. A pretty lyric poem, a passable picture is the highest they can attain, and that only in rare cases. Their artistic activity is otherwise exclusively limited to reproduction, namely, attaining an often high degree of excellence in the arts of singing, acting or instrumental music. More than that they cannot and ought not to attempt. They are naturally receptive and are able to give out again what they have received, but they are not creative - and only a person of that type will possess the productive character necessary to bring the artistic work to perfect fulfilment after Wagner's wishes: a task solely for a man [^!*]. In intellect and knowledge Frau Wagner stands so far above the average of her sex that, despite everything, she could be very useful to the Festivals and a deeply respected adviser if only she would restrict her activity and had at her side men who would oppose her mistakes with the uncompromising courage of conviction, and whose better judgment she would also follow. Her exclusive authority is a misfortune, for the superficial and the sycophant (mankind can be divided in the main into these two species) receive everything she offers as pure gold, without really judging it, because they think it comes from the one chosen successor of Wagner. But her non-German as well as her woman's nature deny Frau Wagner the capability of truly taking possession of this inheritance and show her much-admired activity to be merely the product of routine, gained through long years of practice, and not the outcome of a real gift of genius. If, instead of a non-German woman, a German man stood at the head of affairs, even if he were not a genius we should certainly not have suffered the predilection for foreign singers, the insensibility to bad German pronunciation, the taste for the eccentric in costumes and the weakening of the work of art through the unnatural dragging of the time. We should also not have been treated to the sight of artists, by nature weak and passive, called to fill muscular parts; for example, asking Perron²⁹ to play Wotan. Far be it from me to say anything against this distinguished singer whom I have often had occasion to admire sincerely. But he was not suited to Wotan, he was far too lyrical and sentimental. The fault lay with the management who offered him the part. Perhaps the otherwise excellent Grengg, who again was quite unfitted for the role of Hagen, would have made a better Wotan because of his weighty voice and impressive appearance. Now, the reason why the Meistersinger, which is the most German of all Wagner's plays, should have been so specially successful when produced in 1888 was ascribed by the people who took part in it to the manly behaviour of Richter, and the circumstance that Frau Wagner in that year had given the whole of her attention to Parsifal.

The conviction that a man should be at the head of affairs at Bayreuth seems to have dawned on Frau Wagner. At the same time, the question of who could take over the direction of the Festival when she herself was no longer alive must have been troubling her. But fate played into her hands most kindly! There was a son who was undoubtedly the lineal inheritor of the Master; why should he not be made the intellectual inheritor as well? Certainly there was one circumstance which seemed of importance. Young Mr Wagner had been declared to be unmusical and consequently had not received a musical training. Ten years ago and even later neither his mother nor he made any secret of this. But that, after all, did not matter. Since people with individual talent are not popular at Bayreuth, are even qualified as "spoilt" for the objectives of the management of the Festival, they lost no time, but coached the to all appearances unmusical Siegfried till they made him into something resembling a musician. Now, Frau Wagner, with her wonderful knowledge of the human heart, knew beforehand quite well that at the right moment enough people would be found who would be only too glad to spread abroad the advent of the new genius. And so the experiment was ventured upon and, in an incredibly short space of time the pupil of the Technical High School developed, if you please, not into a musical student, but into a master of the art of conducting. With a few pieces in which he had been very carefully coached, and which he gave with some very startling nuances, he visited some of the larger European towns throughout a period of three years. There his father's name and his mother's widespread relations caused all doors to fly open before him and enthusiastic reports and interviews were sown abroad.

Suddenly there burst upon the world Herr Siegfried Wagner's letter in Die Redenden Kunste in which it appears that he considers himself to have mastered the art of conducting and imagines he is now above such a "secondary" occupation. He is of opinion that good conductors are always to be had, as if there was no need for him to trouble himself any further about the question. Although it cannot be denied that this would undoubtedly be a great gain, the unexampled coolness of this piece of literature remains as worthy of admiration as the calm with which the other conductors received it. Hans Richter, as "the oldest friend of the family", declared Siegfried Wagner in the "Times" to be "remarkable as conductor and stage manager". Whether one sees the expression of conviction or an act of friendship in this declaration something unexplained lurks in the background. Richter is only a Kapellmeister and as such naturally competent to conduct, but he understands - at least, according to Siegfried Wagner's own statement - nothing about the stage. How has he been able to find out that Siegfried Wagner is a remarkable stage manager? At all events, an uncommonly ludicrous impression was made by this letter in Die Redenden Kunste, and it received a really painful character from the incense offered up by Frau Wagner to her faithful followers in the letter addressed to the committee of the Berlin Wagner Society. In any event, so far as concerns the orders which conductors at Bayreuth have to obey, it would still be desirable to settle satisfactorily one question - whether the orders derive from Richard Wagner's time or whether they now come from Cosima or even from Siegfried.³⁰

It is not only Frau Wagner but also the German public who are to blame that Bayreuth is not all it might be. If the public had supported Richard Wagner instead of attacking him he would have reached his goals while still young, and the Festivals would have been longer under his direction. If, after the death of the Master, the public had seen in Bayreuth an object of pride and the crowning point of its national art, then Bayreuth would never have fallen into the hands of the foreigners. Think what would happen in the Grand Opera in Paris if a performance were given by singers who distorted the French language! The performance would not be allowed to continue. In Germany a representation of Lohengrin passed muster in which most of the chief performers spoke German scandalously. It was not only quietly accepted, but the co-operation of the foreigners was said to have given it "an additional interest". How often has it been regretted (and it cannot be sufficiently regretted) that the Germans are wanting in something of which other nations have too much - national pride! If Wagner had lived longer, having at last been recognised by the whole world when he was nearly seventy, the national conscience would perhaps have been strengthened by Bayreuth; and if his wife had had to contend with a public endowed with an enlightened sensibility, she would have had to leave many experiments untried. And thus Wagner's child of sorrow, his German Festival Theatre, has become a model theatre for the Americans, the English and the French. If the foreigners had come to us and had taken part in the victory of Bayreuth, it would have been an honour for us. For the Festivals to have been thrust upon them is a national disgrace.³¹

If the representations of this year, as in former years, were wanting in the great characteristic of uniformity, and the performances followed one after another, now successful and now unsuccessful, there was still something about the 1896 Festival which distinguished it favourably from those which had gone before since 1888. Was it perhaps that warning voices, which were ostentatiously ignored, had all the same penetrated into the sanctuary of Wahnfried? The report that de Reszke was to sing Siegfried and Lassalle Wotan did not come true. With the exception of Frau Gulbranson, more German singers were to be heard in the principal parts and - as has already been noticed - the "Bayreuth tempo" had disappeared. Wagner's directions as to time were carried out and every effort was made to do the same with his other injunctions. This gave the representations a more honest character than those of previous years and it was this which distinguished them more than anything else. May they only continue in the same spirit! The Festivals will then win the sympathy of those who certainly believe as little in the infallibility of Frau Wagner as in that of the Pope, but who, on the other hand, have kept the ideal of the Wagnerian art work pure and unsullied in their hearts....
Bayreuth will also always have three great advantages over other theatres: the wonderful, characteristic building with its half-covered orchestra, the possibility of selecting the best available musical and dramatic talent, and, finally, the independence from preconceived plans of operation, where all kinds of operas are produced. Probably the successful will alternate with the unsuccessful in the future. May the successful always be in the ascendant!...

But... if we ask Bayreuth to behave honourably to us, then we must be equally honourable in our dealings with it. More than once when speaking my mind to friends and supporters of the Festivals concerning the failings of Bayreuth since the Master's death, I met with absolute agreement with what I said, but this was followed at once by the almost terrified request above all else not to express my views openly, as one ought not to injure the name and memory of Wagner or shake the confidence of the public in the representations or reveal their imperfections. Sooner remain silent than endanger the Festivals! One of the best known Bayreuthians³² to whom I sent my pamphlet on conducting wrote to me with the request not to mention his name and saying, among other things, "Did it have to come to this - I have long feared that, unfortunately, it must - that the sins of New Bayreuth should come to the surface and be mercilessly exposed....
But even so, it is most painful that, after a dozen years, one who had been singled out should have to take such a step ....
In spite of everything, we must still revere Bayreuth". An extremely clever Austrian writer expresses the spirit of this last sentence even more clearly in a criticism of the above-mentioned pamphlet. "Though a man such as Weingartner finds cause in our day for censure, he is one of those...
who work, not for the well-disposed, but for those who are opponents on principle....
Here, we who are capable of admiring ought before everything else to admire. To do so does the world more good than criticism". Ought Bayreuth really to lay claim to be alone the omnia admirari?

I now turn my attention not, if you will allow me, to the hysterical sycophants in Frau Wagner's following, but to the serious men who are devoted to Wagner's life's work. I number among the latter the two whose words I have quoted. Do people really believe that they are honouring the memory of the Master and helping his cause when they either admire or try to hide the faults of the present Festivals? Do they not see that it is just by this that they are driving Bayreuth to its certain downfall? Do not be anxious if things at Bayreuth no longer look as they did in 1876 or in 1882. That is not the result of Wagner's ideas. Great mountains throw their shadows far into the plain and great events can bring sad results in their train. Only think what a caricature was made in a short time of the teaching of Jesus of Nazareth; when the head failed the limbs fell asunder. It is, therefore, certainly not to be wondered at that when the Master's strong will was no longer there to exercise its controlling power, an uncertain trying and testing should take the place of clear decision. We shall undoubtedly prize Bayreuth highly and use all our love and strength to assure the continuation of the Festivals. But we shall not countenance mistakes by a false admiration and a cowardly silence, for in so doing we ourselves become enemies and desecrators of the sanctuary. Where a spot shows itself on the face of the sun, then speak out boldly and let all concerned fall to work, so that it be wiped out and the bright light be once more visible! It is by so doing that we shall be real friends of Bayreuth. Of course, now and then thunderstorms will arise, but do not think they are harmful. Storms clear the air and Wagner's great thoughts are powerful enough to weather victoriously even greater tempests than those that have already raged around them.


ANNOTATIONS
This essay was first published in Berlin in 1897 and an English translation by Lily Antrobus followed in 1898. Although he never again visited Bayreuth after 1896, Weingartner revised the work for a second (1903) edition published only in Germany, when he removed some of the sting of his first thoughts. The present is an edited version of the translation referred to, in which the few unimportant excisions made are indicated thus.... In his autobiography Weingartner said: "My Bayreuth treatise was received as the outpouring of my wounded ambition, credited with my personal desire for revenge and all other kinds of motives, except the right one, which was, as I explained in the preface to the second edition, 'to discuss my youthful ideal'". That "revenge", as he further explains in this preface, was alleged to be "against Frau Wagner because I was never invited to conduct at the Festival", an allegation which he rejected as beneath contempt. His revelations were, he said, "denounced within the devoted circle of hangers-on as crimen laesae majestatis or, as they say in German, the unpardonable crime of insulting Frau Wagner". The attacks on him were "on my work and on me personally, a twisting of the facts with no real effort to refute my views even if they were mistaken, although in fact they were right". The annotations which follow include among them the author's notes appearing in the original English translation.
1. Hermann Levi (1839-1900) conducted nearly all performances of Parsifal from the premiere in 1882 until 1886, and all performances from 1889 until 1894.
2. Felix Mottl (1856-1911) conducted at all the Festivals from 1886 until 1897 and again in 1901, 1902 and 1906.
3. Albert Niemann (1831-1917), German tenor, created Tannhauser in the Paris version (1861) and Siegmund at Bayreuth in 1876. Franz Betz (1835-1900), German baritone, created Hans Sachs at Munich in 1868 and Wotan at Bayreuth in 1876. Emil Scaria (1838-1886), Austrian bass, sang Gurnemanz in 1882 and 1883. Heinrich Vogl (1845-1900), German tenor, created Loge in Rheingoid (1869) and Siegmund in naikure (1870) at their Munich premieres. Amalie Materna (1844-1918), Austrian soprano, was chosen by Wagner for Briinnhilde at Bayreuth in 1876 and sang at his London concerts in the following year.
4. Julius Kniese (1848-1905), German conductor, was chorusmaster at Bayreuth in 1882; he settled there in 1889 and in the following year he founded and directed the Preparatory School for stage singers to which Weingartner refers.
5. Rosa Sucher (1849-1927), German soprano, also took the roles of Kundry, Eva, Elizabeth and Sieglinde at Bayreuth on various occasions between 1886 and 1899. Heinrich Gudehus (1845-1909), German tenor, sang Parsifal in 1882 and subsequently, and Walther in 1888 and 1889. Gisela Staudigl , Austrian soprano and pupil of Mathilde Marchesi, died in 1929; she appeared frequently at Bayreuth from 1886. Eugen Gura (1842-1906), baritone born in Bohemia, took the roles of Gunther and Donner at Bayreuth in 1876 and also sang Amfortas in 1886. Fritz Plank (1848-1900) also appeared regularly as Klingsor from 1886 until 1897.
6. (Author's note) "Franz Liszt made a telling and sharp-witted remark after he had seen Tristan at Bayreuth a few days before his death. In answer to my question as to whether he was satisfied with the performance, he replied with one of his peculiar sarcastic smiles, 'I do not think that - under existing conditions - it could be better"'.
7. It is not clear to which artists Weingartner is here referring. At the 1888 Festivals Sachs was sung by Plank, Reichmann and Schiedemantel, Eva by Katherina Bettaque, Therese Malten and Rosa Sucher, and Walther by Gudehus and Winkelmann. Fritz Friedrichs sang Beckmesser again in 1889 and Sebastian Hofmuller also took part in Parsifal and Tristan in those years. Weingartner is also mistaken in stating that Wagner conducted the Meistersinger premiere in Munich; it was in fact conducted by von Bu'low, to Wagner's great satisfaction.
8. Weingartner would presumably have also disapproved of Toscanini's approach to Parsifal: his timings, the slowest of all at Bayreuth, differed from Levi's by almost exactly the margins which Weingartner specifies. Levi's own timings have been shortened by Strauss, Krauss and Boulez. Weingartner is also optimistic about the maximum possible variations in performances of Rheingoid; they have varied by almost half-an-hour at Bayreuth. His remarks here did not go unnoticed in this country: in view of the veneration with which Muck's Parsifal was later regarded, it is of interest that Herbert Thompson, writing in the "Musical Times" in 1902 (p.612), contented himself with the comment that "Dr Muck... did not drag it so much as one at least of his recent predecessors, though he took it more slowly than Levi, who conducted it under Wagner's own supervision".
9. In the pamphlet on conducting.
10. Ernest van Dyck (1861-1923), Belgian tenor, who sang Lohengrin at the French premiere in 1887. Emil Blauvaert (1845-1891), Belgian bass.
11. The conductor of Tannhauser was, in 1891-92, Mottl and in 1894 Richard Strauss, making his Bayreuth debut.
12. Again it is not always clear here to which artists Weingartner is referring. Lohengrin was sung by van Dyck, . -Gerhaufer and Birrenkoven, Ortrud by Marie Brema and Pauline Mailhac, and Telramund by Demeter Popovici. The conductor was Mottl. It is fair to note that Bernard Shaw thought rather differently of this production: see Music in London 189O-94, Vol. Ill, p.281.
13. Lilian Nordica (1857-1914), American soprano who in 1896 married the Hungarian tenor Zoltan Doeme, whose solitary performance of Parsifal Weingartner later refers to.
14. Mottl's slow tempi were the subject of comment in London when he conducted Wagner at Covent Garden shortly afterwards.
15. Karl Grengg also took the part of Gurnemanz in 1892 and in later years.
16. The first cycle was conducted by Richter, the second, which Weingartner describes, by Mottl who also conducted the third. Despite his remarks here and later (see note 18), the actual timings of the performances under the three different conductors were very similar.
17. Surprisingly, as they included Olive Fremstad among their number.
18. (Author's note) "If these directions originated with Herr Siegfried Wagner, then in them he has given proof of capability. Unfortunately, one must always receive the news sent from Bayreuth into the world at large with a grain of salt. Quite lately it was said in several newspapers that, after the fourth cycle, which, as everyone knows, was conducted by 'Master Siegfried' (as he is already called in Bayreuth), the orchestra had sent him a deputation begging him to conduct the fifth cycle instead of Richter! A few enquiries made of individual members of the Bayreuth orchestra showed this fabulous report to be absolutely without foundation. No, no! Of all kinds of artists, the German orchestral player still bears the highest character and does not let himself be persuaded so easily into doing anything which goes against the grain. A few sycophants may possibly be found in the profession and, if perhaps some men of that stamp did attempt to get up such an intrigue in Siegfried Wagner's favour, the intention certainly never reached the ears of the other members of the orchestra".
19. i.e. Therese Vogl (1845-1921), wife of Heinrich (see note 3), who sang Isolde to his Tristan at Munich in 1869,
20. (Author's note) "I was told afterwards that it is said to have been altered for the second Cycle".
21. Georg Unger (1837-1887), German tenor.
22. Hans Breuer (1868-1929), German tenor, appeared at Bayreuth up to 1914.
23. Alois Burgstaller (1871-1945), German tenor, later took the parts of Siegmund and Parsifal at Bayreuth, and appeared in the latter role at the first US stage performance in 1903. Both Breuer and Burgstaller had, in fact, appeared in small parts in previous Festival performances in 1894, the first in Parsifal, the second in Tannhauser.
24. (Author's note) "Another of these unnecessary points was the childish frog-like hopping of Mime, before and at the words 'Wilkommen Siegfried1 as he tries to force the drink upon him".
25. Karl Hill (1831-1893), German baritone, who also sang Klingsor in 1882.
26. Lilli Lehmann (1848-1929), German soprano who was coached by Wagner for the roles of Woglinde, Helmwige and the Woodbird at Bayreuth in 1876 and who there sang Brunnhilde in 1896, although not in the cycle Weingartner describes.
27. Ellen Gulbranson (1863-1947), Swedish soprano who appeared regularly as Brunnhilde at Bayreuth until 1914, and also there took the role of Kundry.
28. Hedwig Reicher-Kindermann (1853-1933), German soprano.
29. Karl Perron (1858-1928), German baritone.
30. Weingartner's opinion of Siegfried Wagner's limitations as a conductor was widely reflected elsewhere in terms hardly more tactful: see e.g. Bernard Shaw, London Music in 1888-89, pp.401-2 and the "Musical Times", 1927, p.453.
31. Weingartner's display of nationalism here and elsewhere in the pamphlet should not be misunderstood. His failure to join in the hysterical condemnation of the opposing side in the First World War led, indeed, to allegations of lack of patriotism during and after that war; and in his memoirs he said: "And already in 1886 I learnt to recognise in Bayreuth the first symptoms of that attitude (towards others) which later became a scourge, not only of Bayreuth, but of the whole German people.... When the time came for these things to be swept away, the sweepings included...much that was valuable". (Buffets and Rewards, p.225).
32. This was Emil Heckel (1837-1908), German music publisher, first president of the "Allgemeine Richard Wagner-Verein", who helped organise the early Bayreuth Festivals.

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