[...] As regards your (future!) plans for a complete performance of Tannhäuser, there are still a number of things on my mind which it will not be easy to unload. Firstly: some minor points! I do not know for certain whether in your performances Walther von der Vogelweide sang his aria in the Tournament of Song in B flat major (as in the original) or in C major? There is an inconsistency here. I know that B flat major does not accord with the remaining tessitura of his (fairly high-lying) role, and a singer who has the voice for the rest of the part will therefore be ineffectual in the lower key of B flat major: that is why I was obliged in Dresden to have the piece transposed up to C major. This C major, however, ill accords with the key-relationships of the arias on either side of it in the Tournament of Song; in particular, the transition to the brighter key of Tannhäuser’s ensuing aria in C major loses its intensity. At the same time, the higher key of C major means that Walther’s aria suffers a grievous loss of that sense of calm dignity which constitutes its characteristic tone. This conflict can be resolved only by having the role of Walther sung by a low tenor, while that of Heinrich der Schreiber is sung by a high tenor. Both parts will then have to be re-written so that in all the ensemble passages the vocal line which in the score is allotted to Heinrich d. Schr. must be given to Walther and, conversely, the former must sing the vocal line which Walther has there. But Walther must retain all the solo passages (in the first finale.) This is something I should gladly have seen to myself! Next! - You’ll now be giving the scene between Tannhäuser and Venus complete? I think I have already explained the necessity for retaining all three verses of Tannhäuser’s song? -
But now to the main point! i.e. - the great adagio of the second finale!! When I made a cut in this adagio following the first performance of Tannhäuser in Dresden, I was in a state of utter despair, and in my heart I wrote off all my hopes for Tannhäuser, because I saw that Tichatschek could not understand it and that he was thus even less capable of playing the part! The fact that I had to make this cut was tantamount to renouncing any aim I might have had of ensuring a true understanding of the work! I beg you, my dearest friend, to look closely at the passage which was cut and convince yourself as to what it contains! After everyone on stage has formed a group around the intercessional figure of Elisabeth and after she has assumed the central position, leaving the others merely to listen to her or else to repeat what she says and sings, Tannhäuser, suddenly aware of his dreadful crime, succumbs to the most dreadful contrition, and - on finally finding the words to express himself - words which initially fail him as he lies on the ground as though unconscious, - it is now he who becomes the only person that matters, so that the others all now form a group around him, as they had done previously around Elisabeth. Everything else recedes in importance, so that it is, as it were, he alone whom the others accompany when he sings:
To save my soul from loss eternal
An angel came from heav’n above;
Ah, why in madness was I driven
So to profane her spotless love?
Great God, thron’d in the starry heights of heaven,
Who sent’st Thine angel from her lofty place,
Oh pity me who, sunk so deep in evil,
Dar’d to reject the herald of Thy grace!
In this verse and in the music to which it is sung lies the entire meaning of Tannhäuser’s catastrophe, nay, it is the unique expression of Tannhäuser’s entire being, which made him such a moving figure for me. All his suffering, his bloody pilgrimage, everything stems from the sense contained within these strophes: unless we hear them at this point, and precisely at this point, and unless we hear them, moreover, as they must be heard, Tannhäuser as a whole remains incomprehensible, an arbitrary, vacillating - pitiful figure, (the beginning of his narration in the last act comes too late to make good what must engage our feelings here with all the violence of a storm!) Not only the end of the 2nd act, but the whole of the third act, indeed - in a certain sense - the entire drama will be effective, as regards its true content, only if the central point of the entire drama, around which it develops as though around its own kernel, emerges clearly and distinctly in this particular passage. - And this passage, the key to my entire work, had to be cut in Dresden, - why? - because it turned out that Tichatschek had no inkling of his task as a dramatic performer, but interpreted his entire role as that of a singer endowed with an outstanding voice. It was precisely here, however, that it became clear how ineffectual in the face of his true dramatic task is the mere possession of material means since the latter forsook the singer at the very point where he felt most dependent upon them. Because Tichatschek could neither understand this passage (as a result of his preternaturally small brain capacity!) nor depict its content, he could not sing it either! His voice gave out at the very point where he could have been effective only if he had allowed his entire being to pour itself out - regardless of whether it was by vocal means or any other - in order to vent himself of an overpowering emotion. Our good friend Tichatschek, beaming bemusedly into the footlights with the look of a good-natured sheep, all the while singing (in tender, dulcet tones) the eighth line of a vocal octet, was unable to produce the note A at the words “Oh pity me”!! I do not possess even a fraction of his voice, yet I can produce a splendid A at this point! Of course this “A” does not require to be “sung”, but must be hurled forth by the singer straining every sinew of his breast, like a sword with which Tannhäuser intends to kill himself. - All attempts to parley with my Dresden tenor were useless: he did not know what was at issue, and kept on maintaining that it was a difficult passage, as his throat kept telling him! - Well, I spared his throat, and cut the passage, since no living soul could have guessed - from the way in which Tichatschek was performing it - what was going on here; all that could be heard here was simply Tannhäuser singing an “inner part” which, in itself - as a series of notes - , is no longer ear-catching; the musical environment became the important point - so that the whole thing seemed a longueur which could easily be cut, something I proceeded to do, if for no other reason than because I could not bring myself to listen to it performed in this way. - But - I shall now say this: no performance of Tannhäuser accords with my intentions if this passage has to be omitted! For the sake of this passage I agree, if need be, to the cut in the allegro of the finale, where what is omitted is really only a continuation of the earlier passage, i.e. where Elisabeth takes up the B major theme as a canto fermo, and Tannhäuser, in his wild despair, pours out his feelings in such passionate terms. If ever a performance of this opera is to meet with complete satisfaction on my part, Tannhäuser must sing this passage, too, and in such a way that it does not seem over-long. -
You will now want to know what is to be done about this? can we demand of a lesser singer what a man like Tichatschek was incapable of bringing off? - To this I would say that, in spite of his voice, Tichatschek - given the obstinacy of his temperament and the smallness of his brain - was incapable of bringing off a great many things of which many less gifted singers were capable, provided they were able to understand what was at issue. At the Tannhäuser rehearsal which I attended in Weimar, Götze, who was otherwise quite useless, brought off certain passages and clarified certain intentions which Tichatschek had repeatedly failed to do for me. The latter, you see, has a voice which is brilliant and tender by turns, but which lacks any genuine accent of suffering. Our local singer in the role of the Flying Dutchman achieved far more for me than the performers in Dresden and Berlin, in spite of their having superior voices. - See what you can do with Herr Beck, and make clear to him what is at issue. - If this passage comes off, your Weimar audience will be the first to understand what is going on here! - (A further technical observation at this point: - if the singer is certain of himself during this passage, leave him free to determine the tempo, the others will have to follow him, - he alone is in command!)
If a performance of Tannh. is to be wholly perfect, the definitive ending of the opera must be given complete as it appears in the new edition of the vocal score, with the chorus of younger pilgrims. -
But that’s enough of that! I imagine your head is already spinning! -
All you have to do is send your own score of the flying Dutchman to Uhlig: he has in his possession the revised score and will prepare your own copy from it. Once the rehearsal period draws closer, I shall write to you again concerning individual details: but for now it reassures me to know that the parts have all been written out on the basis of Uhlig’s copy of the score, and that scenery and sets will be based on the sketches which I hope you will be receiving from Caessmann.
The flying Dutchman here has left an indescribable impression: philistines who could otherwise never be persuaded to set foot in the theatre or concert-hall attended each of the 4 performances within the space of a single week, and are now regarded as being insane. I myself am now very much in favour with all the women here. Vocal scores are being ordered by the half-dozen.
I have now moved to the country and feel to be in tolerably high spirits. In addition my work is again giving me pleasure: my entire Nibelung-tetralogy is finished in complete draft form, and in a few months the verses should be ready too. From then on I shall once again become solely and exclusively a “music maker”, - since this work will no doubt be my last poem, and I hope I shall never again return to journalism. My head is filled only with plans to stage the work: nothing more shall be written, but only performed. I hope you will help me in this! -
[...]
Source: Selected Letters of Richard Wagner, trans. and ed. Stewart Spencer and Barry Millington (W. W. Norton & Company, 1988), No. 142