Correspondence of Wagner and Liszt - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Adieu, dearest friend.
What a blessing that you have no double!
Au revoir soon! Your
RICHARD W.
ZURICH, September 29th, 1853.
133.
DEAREST FRIEND,
It just occurs to me that in "Lohengrin" I have forgotten to mark the tempo in one place, which I discovered only when I conducted it here--I mean in the "Bridal Song" in D major, after the second solo pa.s.sage of the eight women, the last eight bars before the tempo primo.
[Figure: a musical score]
Here the tempo is to be considerably slower even than at the first entry of the D major; the impression must be one of solemn emotion, or else the intention is lost.
How are you?
Today week!
Your
R. W.
September 29th, 1853.
In the "Bridal Procession" (E flat), where the first tempo reappears in the woodwind,
[Figure: a musical score]
that woodwind ought to be doubled.
134.
I have promised the concert score of the "Lohengrin" pieces to Apt, director of the "Cacilienverein," Prague; therefore kindly leave word at Carlsruhe that this score is to be sent immediately after the last concert to Apt in Prague; the parts to go back here.
Yesterday you had the general rehearsal; I am always with you.
The day after tomorrow! I say, "The day after tomorrow!"
Adieu.
Your
R. W.
ZURICH. October 2nd, 1853.
135.
Here I stand and stare after you; my whole being is silence; let me not seek words, even for you. Speech seems to exist only to do violence to feeling. Therefore no violence, but silence!
I have not much news for you from the "world." Tomorrow I start for home, but shall see your children before I go. Madame Kalergy I did not find at home and am doubtful whether I shall see her.
Make my excuses to her.
From Zurich I shall write to you again. Be thanked for your blissful love! Greet the Princess and the Child! Can I write more? Ah, I am all feeling. My intellect is within my heart, but from my heart I cannot write to you.
Farewell, farewell, you dear beloved ones.
Your
RICHARD W.
PARIS October 26th, 1853.
136.
I suppose you have nothing to write to me, dear Franz, or else you would have sent me a few lines.
Your children told me that they had had a letter from you, telling them that you had quickly got to Weimar and had lived there quietly till your birthday without seeing anybody. On your birthday I made some music in Paris; I had at last to offer something to my two or three old Paris friends, one of whom you appreciated.
Erard sent me a grand pianoforte, which has filled me with a fanatical desire to perform some flights on it, even if I had still to learn fingering. So then I began to "Tannhauser" and to "Lohengrin" on the Boulevard des Italiens as if you were with us.
The poor devils could not understand why I was beside myself.
However, it went better than at Madame Kalergy's, although you were present then. Why?--Madame Kalergy I did not see again, but I hope the few lines I sent her have made my excuses. Apart from this, I received a visit from an agent de police, who, after I had pa.s.sed my examination satisfactorily, a.s.sured me that I might stay in Paris a whole month. My answer that I should leave sooner astonished him, and he repeated that I might stop a whole month.
The good man! dear Paris!, The Emperor also I saw. What more can one desire?
The day before yesterday I arrived here. Peps received me joyfully at the carriage, and in return I gave him a beautiful collar, engraved with his name, which has become sacred to me. He never leaves my side; in the morning he comes to my bed to awake me. He is a dear, good animal. The minster of Stra.s.sburg I saw again; my good wife stood with me in front of it. It was dull, rainy weather. The divine point of the tower we could not see; it was covered by mist. How different from that other day, the sacred Sunday before the minster!
Let it be night; the stars s.h.i.+ne then. I look upwards and behold; for me also there s.h.i.+nes a star.
Farewell, and greet the dear ones. Today the Rhinegold was coursing through my veins; if it is to be, if it cannot be otherwise, you shall have a work of art that will give you joy(?).
Dear, unique friend, remember your poor
RICHARD W.
