Wagner's "Tristan und Isolde" Part 8

CHAPTER XI

OBSERVATIONS ON THE TEXT AND MUSIC

It remains for us now to examine the work itself, scene by scene, that we may see how the principles of art which we have been considering in the preceding chapters are ill.u.s.trated. The following notes are written with a practical end; they are intended to a.s.sist those who are unacquainted with the work and are about to hear it for the first time to follow the composer's intentions. They do not profess to give a full commentary or explanation, but only to start the reader on the right path that he may find the way for himself. Those who read German should begin by thoroughly mastering the text. Tristan is not like a modern problem play to be understood at once from the stage, without any effort. There are many, I regret to say, who spare themselves even this trouble, but it is indispensable, for even if singers always enunciated their words more distinctly than they do, it would be quite impossible to follow the difficult text on first hearing. Beyond this, however, very little preparation is necessary; especially the study of lists of _Leitmotive_ should be avoided, since they give a totally wrong conception of the music. We cannot study an edifice by looking at the bricks of which it is built. Lectures with musical ill.u.s.trations, provided they are really well done, by a competent pianist, are valuable, and it is also of use to study selected scenes at the piano with text and music, the scene on the stage being always kept before the mind, and the voice part being sung as far as possible. For those who are quick of musical apprehension such studies are not necessary, but the careful reading of the text is indispensable for all. In all studies at the piano the arrangement of Hans von Bulow should be used, even by those who are unable to master all its difficulties, since the simplified arrangements are very imperfect. As a help to those who study the text at home, I have recounted the general course of the action and dialogue just in sufficient outline to enable the reader to follow what is going on, adding here and there a literal translation, where it seemed desirable, especially where the meaning of the original is difficult to grasp.

Some introductory matter must first be told. Marke, King of Cornwall, has lately been involved in a war with the King of Ireland, whose general, Morold, has invaded the country to compel tribute. Tristan, King Marke's nephew, has defeated the army and killed Morold, but himself been wounded in the fight. His wound refusing to heal, he has sought the advice of the renowned Irish princess and medicine-woman, Isolde. She had been the betrothed bride of Morold, and in his head, sent back to Ireland in derision, as "tribute," by the conqueror, she has found a splinter from the sword which slew him, and has kept it.

While Tristan is lying sick under her care she notices a gap in his sword, into which the splinter fits, and she knows that he is the slayer of her lover. She approaches him with sword upraised to slay him; he looks up at her; their eyes meet; she lets the sword fall, and bids him begone and trouble her no more. Tristan returns to Cornwall cured. His uncle is childless, and wishes to leave the kingdom to Tristan when he dies. But there are cabals in the state; a party has been formed, under Tristan's friend Melot, to induce King Marke to marry and beget a direct heir to the throne. Tristan joins them, and with great difficulty persuades his uncle to despatch him to Ireland to bring the Princess Isolde to be Markers wife. The curtain rises when they are on board the s.h.i.+p on the voyage to Cornwall, just approaching the land.

The Prelude is a condensed picture of the entire drama. As an instrumental piece it is unable to render the definite actions, but it can give with great distinctness a tone or an atmosphere out of which these acts will shape themselves in the sequel, a presentiment of what is to be. The subject of our work is Love trying to raise itself out of the contamination of human life into a higher and purer sphere, but failing so long as it is clogged with the conditions of bodily existence. The text of the Prelude may be taken from the words of Tristan in the third act:

Sehnen! Sehnen!

Im Sterben mich zu sehnen, Vor Sehnsucht nicht zu sterben.

This theme is enunciated with almost realistic eloquence in the very first phrase, in the two contrasting strains, the love-motive striving upwards in the oboe, and its variant fading downwards in the 'cello.

The union of the two produces a harmony of extraordinary expressiveness, which I have already referred to in the last chapter as the "soul of the _Tristan_ music." Every hearer must be struck with its mysterious beauty, and it has been the subject of many theoretical discussions. It is best understood as the chord on the second degree of the scale of A minor, with inflections:

[Music]

G sharp being a suspension or appoggiatura resolved upwards on to A while the D sharp (more properly E flat) is explained by the melody of the violoncelli, which, instead of moving at once to D, pa.s.s through a step of a semitone. There is, however, one thing to be noticed in this melody. The dissonant D sharp (or E flat) is not resolved in its own instrument, the violoncelli, but is taken up by the English horn, and by it resolved in the next bar. This instrument therefore has a distinct melody of its own, consisting only of two notes, but still heard as a kind of sigh, and quite different from the merely filling-in part of the clarinets and ba.s.soons. There are really three melodies combined:

[Music: Oboi. V' celli. Eng. Horn]

It will not be necessary for us to anatomize any more chords in this way. I did so in this case in order to show the intimate connection between the harmony and the melody, and how the explanation of the harmonies must be sought through the melodies by which they are brought about.

The entire Prelude is made up of various forms of the love-motive. The key is A minor, to which it pretty closely adheres, the transient modulations into a'+, c'+, etc., only serving to enforce the feeling of tonality. The reason for this close adherence to one key is not far to seek. Wagner never modulates without a reason; the Prelude presents one simple feeling, and there is no cause for or possibility of modulation.[36] At the 78th bar the music begins to modulate, and seems tending to the distant key of E flat minor, the love-motive is taken up _forte_ and _piu forte_ by the trumpets, but in bar 84 the modulation abruptly comes to an end, the soaring violins fall to the earth, and the piece ends as it began, with a reminiscence of the first part in A minor. An expressive recitative of the violoncelli and ba.s.ses then leads to C minor, the key of the first scene.

[Footnote 36: See the remarks on modulation at the end of his essay _Ueber die Anwendung der Musik auf das Drama, Ges. Schr._ x. pp.

248 seq., where he gives the advice to young students of composition: "Never leave a key so long as you can say what you have to say in it."]

ACT I., SCENE I.--The scene opens in a pavilion on the deck of the s.h.i.+p. Isolde is reclining on a couch, her face buried in the pillows.

Brangane's listless att.i.tude as she gazes across the water, the young sailor's ditty to his Irish girl as he keeps watch on the mast, reflect the calmness of the sea as the s.h.i.+p glides before the westerly breeze, and contrast with the tempest raging in Isolde's breast.

Suddenly she starts up in alarm, but Brangane tries to soothe her, and tells her, to the soft undulating accompaniment of two ba.s.soons in thirds, how she already sees the loom of the land, and that they will reach it by the evening. At present Brangane has no suspicion of anything disturbing her mistress, whose feelings are indicated by an agitated pa.s.sage in the strings (No. 6). She starts from her reverie.

"What land?" she asks. "Cornwall? Never." Then follows a terrific outburst:

_Is_. Degenerate race, unworthy of your fathers!

Whither, oh mother, hast thou bestowed the might over the sea and the storm? Oh, tame art of the sorceress, brewing balsam-drinks only! Awake once more, bold power! arise from the bosom in which thou hast hidden thyself! Hear my will, ye doubting winds: Hither to battle and din of the tempest, to the raging whirl of the roaring storm! Drive the sleep from this dreaming sea; awake angry greed from its depths; show it the prey which I offer; let it shatter this haughty s.h.i.+p, gorge itself upon the s.h.i.+vered fragments! What lives thereon, the breathing life, I give to you winds as your guerdon.

Both the words and the music of this wonderful invocation are worthy of attention. Especially the words of the original German with their drastic alliteration may be commended to those who still doubt Wagner's powers as a poet. The music is mostly taken from the sailor's song (No. 5), but quite changed in character; the rapid staccato movement with the strongly marked figure of the ba.s.s have transformed the peaceful ditty into a dance of furies. The entry of the trombones at the words _Heran zu Kampfe_ is characteristic of Wagner's employment of the bra.s.s throughout the work. Their slow swelling chords add volume and solemnity to the orchestral tone. They continue for a few bars only, and the voice distantly hints at the love-motive (_zu tobender Sturme wuthendem Wirbel_), but for a moment only; it goes no further.

The terrified Brangane tries to calm her, and at the same time to learn what is the cause of her anger. She recalls Isolde's strange and cold behaviour on parting from her parents in Ireland, and on the voyage; why is she thus? A peculiar imploring tenderness is imparted to her appeal at the end by the falling sevenths, an interval which we have already met with in the Prelude and which is characteristic of this act.

Her efforts are vain; Isolde starts up hastily crying "Air! air! throw open the curtains!"

SCENE II.--The curtain thrown back discloses the deck of the s.h.i.+p with the crew grouped around Tristan, who is steering,[37] his man Kurwenal reclining near him. The refrain of the sailors' song is again heard.

Isolde's eyes are fixed upon Tristan as she begins to the strain of the love-motive accompanied by muted strings:

Chosen for me!--lost to me!

Death-devoted head! Death-devoted heart!

enunciating with these words the death-motive (No. 2).

[Footnote 37: A curious mistake in the stage-management may be noticed. The scene is obviously laid in the forecastle; one glance at the stage is enough to show this, and the sails are set that way. Nor can it be altered, for it would never do to have them looking among the audience for the land ahead. So that Tristan's s.h.i.+p has her rudder in the bow! Rarely is Wagner at fault in trifles of this kind; in all other respects the deck-scene is admirably truthful. The sailors hauling, the song in the rigging, the obvious time of day--in the "dogwatches"--are little touches of realism which will be appreciated by all who know board-s.h.i.+p life.]

She turns to Brangane, and with a look of the utmost scorn, indicating Tristan, she asks:

What thinkst thou of the slave? ... Him there who s.h.i.+rks my gaze, and looks on the ground in shame and fear?

Isolde here strikes the tone which she maintains throughout the act until all is changed by the philtre. Never has such blighting sarcasm before been represented in the drama as that which Isolde pours out upon Tristan. She is by far the stronger character of the two. Her rage is volcanic, and uses here its most effective weapon. Tristan writhes under her taunts, but cannot escape. The music unites inseparably with the words; even the rime adds its point as in mockery she continues Brangane's praise of the hero:

_Br_. Dost thou ask of Tristan, beloved lady? the wonder of all lands, the much-belauded man, the hero without rival, the guard and ban of glory?

_Is._ (_interrupting and repeating the phrase in mockery_).

Who shrinking from the battle takes refuge where he can, because he has gained a corpse as bride for his master!

She commands Brangane to go to Tristan and deliver a message; she is to remind him that he has not yet attended upon her as his duty requires.

_Br_. Shall I request him to wait upon you?

_Is. [Tell him that] I, Isolde, _command_ [my] presumptuous [servant] fear for his _mistress_.

While Brangane is making her way through the sailors to where Tristan is standing at the helm, an interlude made of the sailors' song phrase is played on four horns and two ba.s.soons over a pedal ba.s.s, the strings coming in in strongly marked rhythm on the last beat of each bar, marking the hauling of the ropes to clear the anchor. Tristan is in a reverie, scarcely conscious of what is going on around him; the love-motive once in the oboe shows how his thoughts are occupied. He starts at the word Isolde, but collects himself, and tries to conceal his evident distress under a manner of supercilious indifference.

Brangane becomes more urgent; he pleads his inability to come now because he cannot leave the helm. Then Brangane delivers Isolde's message in the same peremptory words in which she has received it.

Kurwenal suddenly starts up and, with or without permission, sends _his_ answer to Isolde. Tristan, he says, is no servant of hers, for he is giving her the crown of Cornwall and the heritage of England. "Let her mark that, though it anger a thousand Mistress Isoldes." Brangane hurriedly withdraws to the pavilion; he sings an insulting song after her in derision of Morold and his expedition for tribute:

"His head now hangs in Ireland, As tribute sent from England!"

As she closes the curtains the sailors are heard outside singing the refrain of his song, which is a masterpiece of popular music. One can imagine it to be the national song of the Cornish-men after the expedition. With regard to its very remarkable instrumentation, I cannot do better than quote the remarks of that admirable musician, Heinrich Porges: "The augmented chord at the words _auf odem Meere_, the humorous middle part of the horns, the unison of the trombones which, with the sharp entry of the violas, effect the modulation from B flat to D major, impart the most living colour to each moment."

SCENE III.--(_The interior of the pavilion, the curtains closed._) Isolde has heard the interview, and makes Brangane repeat everything as it happened. Inexpressibly pathetic is the turn which she gives to the words of the song as she repeats the phrase of Brangane:

_Is_. (_bitterly_). "How should he safely steer the s.h.i.+p to King Marke's land...." (_with sudden emphasis, quickly_) to hand him the _tribute_ which he brings from Ireland!

--the last sentence being to the refrain of the song.

Upward scale pa.s.sages of the violins are suggestive of a sudden impulse, and there now begins (K.A. 25'1) a movement of great musical interest in which Isolde tells Brangane of Tristan's previous visit to her as "Tantris," recounting how she discovered him by the splinter of the sword, the words: "_Er sah mir in die Augen,_" bringing the characteristic form of the love-motive with the falling seventh (1_b_). Brangane cries out in astonishment at her own blindness.

Isolde continues to relate "how a hero keeps his oaths": _Tantris_ returned as _Tristan_ to carry her off "for Cornwall's weary king"

(K.A. 29'5):

_Is_. When Morold lived, who would have dared to offer us such an insult?... Woe, woe to me! Unwitting I brought all this shame on myself. Instead of wielding the avenging sword, helpless I let it fall, and now I serve my va.s.sal!

Again rage overcomes her at the thought of Tristan's treachery. Her inflamed imagination conjures up his report of her to King Marke:

_Is_. "That were a prize indeed, my lord and uncle!

how seems she to thee as a bride? The dainty Irish maid I'll bring. I know the ways and paths. One sign from thee to Ireland I'll fly; Isolde, she is yours!

The adventure delights me!" Curse on the infamous villain! Curse on thy head! Vengeance! Death!