Dear Sir!
While expressing my special thanks for your gratifying comprehension, I would like to add that I am very much aware of the way in which the mediating press conceives and presents so strange a phenomenon as I appear to the public. Your intention to assume part of the burden in your paper of acquainting the public with me and my artistic point of view would certainly do me a signal service. In order to comply with your wish, however, I would have preferred to find somebody around who would have communicated to you all that was necessary; but since I know no one suitable for such a purpose, I myself have made a beginning toward helping you with notes you want. Luckily this is much facilitated by the account in my own biography which Herr Laube drew up after my own draft, and which is to be found in the Zeitung für die elegante Welt in last year's numbers 5 and 6, if I am not mistaken. From that you may easily put together all you need; it goes as far as my return from France to Germany, and as additional dates you may briefly state that the first performance of my Rienzi in Dresden finally took place on October 20, 1842; and this had such an unusual success that two months later, on the demand of the Dresden Court Theater management, my Flying Dutchman was also performed, and, having until then been quite unknown, I was promptly appointed a royal Kapellmeister. This was a distinction no one else has received, not even C. M. v. Weber, since everyone petitioning for such a position has had to prove his ability for a year. The rumors about the extraordinary difficulties of the Rienzi performance—by the way greatly exaggerated—have so far delayed a performance of that opera by other theaters, but it will shortly be given in Hamburg, and in Leipzig this fall; as for Berlin, a heroic tenor for this opera is still to be found.
The presentation of my Flying Dutchman has so far appeared to be easier for the theater managements; in addition to Dresden it has been given in Cassel, Riga, and Berlin, and Prague plans to do it very soon. It seems peculiar to me that this difficult music, not quickly or easily understandable, and which I really ought to offer to an enlightened audience only, has become most popular so far. Those who first come to know this opera of mine may easily be misled about me, and could believe that what is exceptional in the character of the book as well as the music is my regular way. But this is not so; and I certainly can't prove it with anything better than by pointing to my opera Rienzi, where both the plot and the music should demonstrate to the public that I have no preference whatever for the gloomy atmosphere which persistently prevails in the Flying Dutchman. I believe I can meanwhile no better prove it to you yourself, dear Sir, than by presenting to you both books for your friendly consideration. I presume that you will find that the man who invented the plot of Rienzi, with its abundant action, didn't equip the Flying Dutchman with a quite different and apparently poorer and scantier book out of mere clumsiness and lack of knowledge, but that he followed a conviction which conditioned that particular treatment of the plot. On this point I refer you to a letter written to a friend of mine last summer, which is reprinted in an article of the Illustrierte Zeitung dealing especially with the aforesaid opera; it should be in the October issue of last year.
Those, therefore, who know me only by my Flying Dutchman usually hold it against me that I write the texts of my operas, inferring from the difficulties I have encountered in this plot that I am not equal to the subject. Those who know my Rienzi judge differently, and claim on the contrary I could not have found a more grateful book than this which I made myself. I really do not pride myself on my abilities as a poet, and I confess that it is only out of necessity, and because no good books have been offered to me, that I have set out to invent them myself. But I couldn't possibly compose a text alien to me for the following reason: My way is not to select any plot I like, put it into verse, and then ponder about how to add suitable music; if I should proceed in this way I would subject myself to the inconvenience of having to inspire myself twice, which is impossible. The way I produce is different: the only subject which can appeal to me is one which presents practical as well as musical possibilities. Before starting to write a verse, or even to outline a scene, I must first feel intoxicated by the musical aroma of my subject, all the tones, all the characteristic motives are in my head, so that when the verses are finished and the scenes ordered, the opera proper is also finished for me and the musical treatment in detail is rather a calm and considered afterwork which the moment of real creation has preceded. Furthermore, only subjects should be chosen which are suited only for musical treatment: I would never choose a plot which could just as well be used by a good playwright for a spoken drama. As a musician I am free to choose subjects, to invent situations and contrasts, which are quite outside of the province of the poet-dramatist. Here we arrive at the point where opera and drama part completely and where each can quietly pursue its own course. While nowadays it is the task of the dramatist to purify and to spiritualize the material interests of our time, it falls to the poet and composer of opera to conjure up the holy spirit of poetry which has come down to us from the legends and sagas of past ages. For music offers the means for synthesis which the poet alone, especially in the drama, cannot command. This is the way to raise the opera to a higher level from a debasement which has come about because we have expected composers to treat commonplaces, intrigues, etc., subjects which spoken drama and modern comedy are far more successful in presenting.
I have chosen for my next opera the beautiful and characteristic saga of the knight Tannhäuser, who dwelt in the Venusberg and then went to Rome on a pilgrimage to seek absolution! I linked that saga with the singers' contest at the Wartburg where Tannhäuser takes the place of Heinrich von Ofterdingen—by this combination I achieve a richer dramatic life. It will be obvious that only a musician could treat such a subject.
But I am afraid to have imposed too long on your sympathy; if you continue in it in the future and prove it by your actions, I believe I shall have helped you enough to deserve our closer acquaintance. I repeat the assurances of my greatest gratitude for your kindness and look forward to speak to you of this in person on my next visit to Berlin.
Most faithfully yours,
Richard Wagner
Source: Letters of Richard Wagner: The Burrell Collection, ed. John N. Burk (Macmillan, 1950), No. 55