My dear, beloved lord and friend,
In response to your wonderfully beautiful letter from Linderhof I could reply in no other way than by - the sounds of my Tristan! - My King, I am not well: life has become a burden for me, and my artistic labours are far from easy. The whole effort, moreover, of reviving so strange a work as Tristan has left me very tired. What depresses me is not the malice of the world - but the extreme difficulty of working effectively and creatively, so that I feel like a stranger, almost like a fool, in this world of ours, and in this century. Every step requires the effort of a long and wearisome journey: may I still hope that I shall one day succeed in feeling completely at home in this world and this century? Would it not be better to withdraw from it entirely? If I am to be properly understood, I must always refer to this basic frame of mind whenever I tell you anything about myself - you who are my dearest and most sympathetic listener. Only on this basis do I once more discover the familiar, more light-hearted manner in which, without the need for hypocrisy, I can again discuss what I intend shall give pleasure to my beloved lord. - Let me now try to strike that note again: how gladly do I do so! -
I am making provisions for the concert which you desire me to give. It shall be performed entirely on the lines which you yourself have indicated. I am having great difficulty in including anything from the “Rhinegold”: I need certain resources such as are not yet at my disposal here: but I shall succeed in letting you hear the end of the piece, from Donner’s storm incantation onwards. I am also performing something from the Mastersingers which has not previously been heard but which Schnorr’s presence has persuaded me to include: Walther before the Masters. I shall shortly be drawing up a detailed programme which I shall submit to my most precious lord.
This concert would be possible as early as Sunday or Monday, if the Flying Dutchman had not already been requested in its place. Poor Mitterwurzer seemed really ill; he could not be prevailed upon to perform this role, too. It seems, however, that my noble friend has laid especially kind emphasis upon a presentation of the Flying Dutchman: for that reason it must, no doubt, be given, and it certainly affords Schnorr the keenest pleasure to be allowed to meet his royal patron’s wishes, and to do so, moreover, with such great eagerness: only I myself feel somewhat mortified in the face of the forthcoming performance, when I think that we must inevitably expect a great step backwards from the point we had so successfully reached with Tristan. -
The concert would then follow a few days after the Flying Dutchman. - My gracious King has yet to be kind enough to reply to the anxious request which I addressed to him a few days before the last performance of Tristan; but I live in the hope that it will not be long in coming. - My King! Your love, your favour and your affection for my art, as for my person, impose grave responsibilities upon me. The measure which I resolved to propose to you is an important and powerful link in a chain which must be completely closed if I am to succeed in my mission to redeem a degenerate branch of our great, human art. The choice here means either that music as an art continues to be merely entertaining and, if so wished, pleasantly gratifying, a kind of art which we may occasionally enlist for festive occasions or for our more basic enjoyment, and which we consequently put up with as best we can; or, at very least, it will assume the same importance that was allotted to painting in the 16th century, when the cardinal’s mitre could be destined for Raphael, and aristocratic honours awarded to the least of his helpers. Music as I intend it can and should mean more to this century and to the people of all ages than painting could ever mean to that century and to humanity in general. This is my belief. Well, there are only two things I can do: — I can go completely quiet and disappear completely; or - in everything that I create and achieve I can strive and take soundings in accordance with this belief of mine. -
I know that you, my glorious friend, have been sent to me by God in order that my belief shall become a religion. To establish ourselves we need to break away entirely from the old way of perceiving things. No one can advise you to do anything that he himself cannot grasp. But I shall never advise my King to do anything that is not also just and fair, in addition to being well-founded in practical terms, and feasible. No one, however, can pass judgement on the practicability and feasibility of measures the sense and significance of which escapes him. There are many demonstrations of my august friend’s supreme and unshakeable trust in the unswerving integrity, well-considered suitability and proven feasibility of my proposals which, in the service of my mission, I still have to demand of him. I know exactly what my first request in this respect is intended to achieve, and I may testify that its aim can be understood only by those who, like my King, feel so deep and noble a sensitivity towards art that, inspired by that love, they will not find it difficult to exercise a sense of justice here, too. Perhaps this justice will be attended by difficulties: all the more necessary, then, to practise it! -
In the most sincere trust and boundless love I greet my august friend as
His most faithful of all friends
Richard Wagner
Source: Selected Letters of Richard Wagner, trans. and ed. Stewart Spencer and Barry Millington (W. W. Norton & Company, 1988), No. 327