08-at the shrine of st. wagner-第2章

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of　the　singing。



I　trust　that　I　know　as　well　as　anybody　that　singing　is　one

of　the　most　entrancing　and　bewitching　and　moving　and　eloquent　of

all　the　vehicles　invented　by　man　for　the　conveying　of　feeling；

but　it　seems　to　me　that　the　chief　virtue　in　song　is　melody；　air；

tune；　rhythm；　or　what　you　please　to　call　it；　and　that　when　this

feature　is　absent　what　remains　is　a　picture　with　the　color　left

out。　　I　was　not　able　to　detect　in　the　vocal　parts　of　〃Parsifal〃

anything　that　might　with　confidence　be　called　rhythm　or　tune　or

melody；　one　person　performed　at　a　timeand　a　long　time；　too

often　in　a　noble；　and　always　in　a　high…toned；　voice；　but　he　only

pulled　out　long　notes；　then　some　short　ones；　then　another　long

one；　then　a　sharp；　quick；　peremptory　bark　or　twoand　so　on　and

so　on；　and　when　he　was　done　you　saw　that　the　information　which　he

had　conveyed　had　not　compensated　for　the　disturbance。　　Not

always；　but　pretty　often。　　If　two　of　them　would　but　put　in　a　duet

occasionally　and　blend　the　voices；　but　no；　they　don't　do　that。

The　great　master；　who　knew　so　well　how　to　make　a　hundred

instruments　rejoice　in　unison　and　pour　out　their　souls　in　mingled

and　melodious　tides　of　delicious　sound；　deals　only　in　barren

solos　when　he　puts　in　the　vocal　parts。　　It　may　be　that　he　was

deep；　and　only　added　the　singing　to　his　operas　for　the　sake　of

the　contrast　it　would　make　with　the　music。　　Singing！　　It　does

seem　the　wrong　name　to　apply　to　it。　　Strictly　described；　it　is　a

practicing　of　difficult　and　unpleasant　intervals；　mainly。　　An

ignorant　person　gets　tired　of　listening　to　gymnastic　intervals　in

the　long　run；　no　matter　how　pleasant　they　may　be。　　In　〃Parsifal〃

there　is　a　hermit　named　Gurnemanz　who　stands　on　the　stage　in　one

spot　and　practices　by　the　hour；　while　first　one　and　then　another

character　of　the　cast　endures　what　he　can　of　it　and　then　retires

to　die。



During　the　evening　there　was　an　intermission　of　three…

quarters　of　an　hour　after　the　first　act　and　one　an　hour　long

after　the　second。　　In　both　instances　the　theater　was　totally

emptied。　　People　who　had　previously　engaged　tables　in　the　one

sole　eating…house　were　able　to　put　in　their　time　very

satisfactorily；　the　other　thousand　went　hungry。　　The　opera　was

concluded　at　ten　in　the　evening　or　a　little　later。　　When　we

reached　home　we　had　been　gone　more　than　seven　hours。　　Seven　hours

at　five　dollars　a　ticket　is　almost　too　much　for　the　money。



While　browsing　about　the　front　yard　among　the　crowd　between

the　acts　I　encountered　twelve　or　fifteen　friends　from　different

parts　of　America；　and　those　of　them　who　were　most　familiar　with

Wagner　said　that　〃Parsifal〃　seldom　pleased　at　first；　but　that

after　one　had　heard　it　several　times　it　was　almost　sure　to　become

a　favorite。　　It　seemed　impossible；　but　it　was　true；　for　the

statement　came　from　people　whose　word　was　not　to　be　doubted。



And　I　gathered　some　further　information。　　On　the　ground　I

found　part　of　a　German　musical　magazine；　and　in　it　a　letter

written　by　Uhlic　thirty…three　years　ago；　in　which　he　defends　the

scorned　and　abused　Wagner　against　people　like　me；　who　found　fault

with　the　comprehensive　absence　of　what　our　kind　regards　as

singing。　　Uhlic　says　Wagner　despised　〃JENE　PLAPPERUDE　MUSIC；〃　and

therefore　〃runs；　trills；　and　SCHNORKEL　are　discarded　by　him。〃　　I

don't　know　what　a　SCHNORKEL　is；　but　now　that　I　know　it　has　been

left　out　of　these　operas　I　never　have　missed　so　much　in　my　life。

And　Uhlic　further　says　that　Wagner's　song　is　true：　　that　it　is

〃simply　emphasized　intoned　speech。〃　　That　certainly　describes　it

in　〃Parsifal〃　and　some　of　the　operas；　and　if　I　understand

Uhlic's　elaborate　German　he　apologizes　for　the　beautiful　airs　in

〃Tannh：auser。〃　　Very　well；　now　that　Wagner　and　I　understand　each

other；　perhaps　we　shall　get　along　better；　and　I　shall　stop

calling　Waggner；　on　the　American　plan；　and　thereafter　call　him

Waggner　as　per　German　custom；　for　I　feel　entirely　friendly　now。

The　minute　we　get　reconciled　to　a　person；　how　willing　we　are　to

throw　aside　little　needless　puctilios　and　pronounce　his　name

right！



Of　course　I　came　home　wondering　why　people　should　come　from

all　corners　of　America　to　hear　these　operas；　when　we　have　lately

had　a　season　or　two　of　them　in　New　York　with　these　same　singers

in　the　several　parts；　and　possibly　this　same　orchestra。　　I

resolved　to　think　that　out　at　all　hazards。



TUESDAY。Yesterday　they　played　the　only　operatic　favorite　I

have　ever　hadan　opera　which　has　always　driven　me　mad　with

ignorant　delight　whenever　I　have　heard　it〃Tannh：auser。〃　　I

heard　it　first　when　I　was　a　youth；　I　heard　it　last　in　the　last

German　season　in　New　York。　　I　was　busy　yesterday　and　I　did　not

intend　to　go；　knowing　I　should　have　another　〃Tannh：auser〃

opportunity　in　a　few　days；　but　after　five　o'clock　I　found　myself

free　and　walked　out　to　the　opera…house　and　arrived　about　the

beginning　of　the　second　act。　　My　opera　ticket　admitted　me　to　the

grounds　in　front；　past　the　policeman　and　the　chain；　and　I　thought

I　would　take　a　rest　on　a　bench　for　an　hour　and　two　and　wait　for

the　third　act。



In　a　moment　or　so　the　first　bugles　blew；　and　the　multitude

began　to　crumble　apart　and　melt　into　the　theater。　　I　will　explain

that　this　bugle…call　is　one　of　the　pretty　features　here。　　You

see；　the　theater　is　empty；　and　hundreds　of　the　audience　are　a

good　way　off　in　the　feeding…house；　the　first　bugle…call　is　blown

about　a　quarter　of　an　hour　before　time　for　the　curtain　to　rise。

This　company　of　buglers；　in　uniform；　march　out　with　military　step

and　send　out　over　the　landscape　a　few　bars　of　the　theme　of　the

approaching　act；　piercing　the　distances　with　the　gracious　notes；

then　they　march　to　the　other　entrance　and　repeat。　　Presently　they

do　this　over　again。　　Yesterday　only　about　two　hundred　people　were

still　left　in　front　of　the　house　when　the　second　call　was　blown；

in　another　half…minute　they　would　have　been　in　the　house；　but

then　a　thing　happened　which　delayed　themthe　only　solitary　thing

in　this　world　which　could　be　relied　on　with　certainty　to

accomplish　it；　I　supposean　imperial　princess　appeared　in　the

balcony　above　them。　　They　stopped　dead　in　their　tracks　and　began

to　gaze　in　a　stupor　of　gratitude　and　satisfaction。　　The　lady

presently　saw　that　she　must　disappear　or　the　doors　would　be

closed　upon　these　worshipers；　so　she　returned　to　her　box。　　This

daughter…in…law　of　an　emperor　was　pretty；　she　had　a　kind　face；

she　was　without　airs；　she　is　known　to　be　full　of　common　human

sympathies。　　There　are　many　kinds　of　princesses；　but　this　kind　is

the　most　harmful　of　all；　for　wherever　they　go　they　reconcile

people　to　monarchy　and　set　back　the　clock　of　progress。　　The

valuable　princes；　the　desirable　princes；　are　the　czars　and　their

sort。　　By　their　mere　dumb　presence　in　the　world　they　cover　with

derision　every　argument　that　can　be　invented　in　favor　of　royalty

by　the　most　ingenious　casuist。　　In　his　time　the　husband　of　this

princess　was　valuable。　　He　led　a　degraded　life；　he　ended　it　with

his　own　hand　in　circumstances　and　surroundings　of　a　hideous　sort；

and　was　buried　like　a　god。



In　the　opera…house　there　is　a　long　loft　back　of　the

audience；　a　kind　of　open　gallery；　in　which　princes　are　displayed。

It　is　sacred　to　them；　it　is　the　holy　of　holies。　　As　soon　as　the

filling　of　the　house　is　about　complete　the　standing　multitude

turn　and　fix　their　eyes　upon　the　princely　layout　and　gaze　mutely

and　longingly　and　adoringly　and　regretfully　like　sinners　looking

into　heaven。　　They　become　rapt；　unconscious；　steeped　in　worship。

There　is　no　spectacle　anywhere　that　is　more　pathetic　than　this。

It　is　worth　crossing　many　oceans　to　see。　　It　is　somehow　not　the

same　gaze　that　people　rivet　upon　a　Victor　Hugo；　or　Niagara；　or

the　bones　of　the　mastodon；　or　the　guillotine　of　the　Revolution；

or　the　great　pyramid；　or　distant　Vesuvius　smoking　in　the　sky；　or

any　man　long　celebrated　to　you　by　his　genius　and　achievements；　or

thing　long　celebrated　to　you