Most merciful font of grace, most royal lord and most friendly of friends,
At last the hour seems propitious for me to satisfy the most glorious need that I am yet able to feel: the spasms which generally hold me in their sway of a morning have passed today somewhat sooner than usual, and I know that my thoughts are now free to express these words of gratitude to him who is lord of my life!
I should like to proceed in a fairly orderly manner in telling you my news, and so, without further ado, shall make haste to correct a mistake. It was not Count Chambord who moved into the Palazzo Vendramin with us, but a relation of his with the title Count Bardi, the son or perhaps the heir of the late Duke of Parma, a nephew of Henri de France through his mother, who was a daughter of the Duc de Berry. He has been joined by various other members of that same deposed royal family, so that the whole palace was full, and we found ourselves obliged to put up my father-in-law Liszt in our own special apartment. But we have had other visitors, too; the faithful Joukowsky, who claims not to be able to live without us, also turned up. The resultant upheaval was made all the worse by a large number of rehearsals which I insisted on holding - in secret at first - with the orchestra of the local Liceo San Marcello, with whom I was rehearsing the symphony which, as one of the more important works of my youth, I had first performed in public in Leipzig almost fifty years ago to the day. I commemorated this half-century with a family celebration to mark my dear wife’s birthday, which falls on Christmas Day. No one was allowed to be present except for our family alone. I have written a short essay for the “Musikalisches Wochenblatt” on the fate of this symphony and on its significance for my development; it may perhaps amuse my exalted benefactor to see it, and in that hope I am taking the liberty of sending a copy forthwith.
For the rest, Grandpapa (as the children call him) brought with him the upheaval that has now become a typical part of his life. He has led so uncommonly turbulent a life that, wherever he goes, he is for ever surrounded by a surging mass of acquaintances who seek him out and call on him, drawing him away to an endless round of matinees, dinners and soirees and in that way prevent us from seeing him, since we ourselves remain away from all these engagements and confine ourselves exclusively to our own company. His latest engagement was a dinner with Don Carlos and a Mexican Duke Iturbide, whom I declared to be a votary of Fitzliputzli, and related to Itztka-huitl and Popocatepetl - which did not, however, deter Papa from appearing at Don Carlos’s side in the guise of the Marquis Posa. - From these brief hints my dearly beloved friend may perhaps gather that I was not exactly in my element here, and that it was only with difficulty that I was able to make the necessary arrangements for preparing for this year’s festival.
On this point I had to be perfectly clear in my mind how best to meet the wishes of my revered lord, and the following possibility seems to present itself here.
It is impossible to build any sets that could be used for a performance of Parsifal in Munich before they are substantially altered and rebuilt, a process which, after close consideration on my part too, will finally be recognized as feasible only in the festival theatre in Bayreuth. The two moving transformations have been cut up for this purpose and are at present unusable. The alterations which made this necessary could not be delayed any further, at least as long as I persist in my resolve to achieve absolute correctness in Bayreuth for this, my farewell work to the world. Since my exalted friend was kind enough to devote his attention to my essay “On the Stage Dedication Festival in Bayreuth”, I may hope that my declaration on this point has not remained unappreciated. If my most gracious lord still remains disinclined to grace the actual festival with a transfiguring presence which would in no way expose him to the public gaze, three or even more performances could be made available for my sublime benefactor after the end of the public performances, and given, moreover, by the same company under my personal supervision, in the fullest realization of the artistic ideas I have been aiming to achieve. Since yet another of these wretched “international” or “world exhibitions” is being held in Munich this year, requiring a certain amount of opera music to amuse its patrons, and since there will be very little time available to use the Court Orchestra and chorus which your boundless generosity has once more placed at our disposal, I must make haste to arrange a greater number of performances this year, lasting, say, until the 15th of August, since this seems to me indispensable if I am to ensure the continuing existence of my undertaking; the whole company may then perhaps remain together for a further week in order for the private performances to go ahead for my revered lord. Of course, these performances will have to take place in Bayreuth itself, since it would be completely impossible to install all the people and equipment necessary to perform the work in Munich sufficiently quickly for the period involved not to extend beyond the time when my singers are free. And since, moreover, the Court Theatre management is desperately looking for operas for the period of the Exhibition, it would be very difficult to reconcile their wishes with my exalted benefactor’s most gracious desire that private performances, to the total exclusion of the general public, be held in Munich at precisely that time.
I have given much thought to this matter - during sleepless nights, and when feeling unwell - and have come to the conclusion that I should risk one final, submissive assault on my royal lord and friend’s so graciously well-disposed heart, begging him to give orders that a work which was created for him alone should finally be performed only under such conditions as alone are necessary if I am to vouch for an accurate impression, whereas any change is bound to produce only a feeling of fatal displeasure within me. — What am I saying here? Perhaps I am sounding my death knell and that of my entire artistic enterprise: for I am bound to fear that even he whom I call the lord of my life will regard all my ideas and entreaties as vain. And yet I know what I am asking for here: it is that selfsame thing for whose sake my lord first took an interest in my shattered life. Let him crown his own work then, just as he raised me aloft with his mercy: may he receive my oath of the most profoundly grateful allegiance as I place at his feet a work that I regard as my farewell to life. I have suffered much to be able to do so! It gave me great pleasure to see from so kind a telegraphic despatch as the one with which my exalted prince deigned to answer my respectful greetings on New Year’s Day that our essays in the Bayreuther Blätter have afforded at least some enjoyment. It was most important for me to give a proper account of the essence of my rehearsals with the company, and also the reasons for their success: at all events, this success and more especially the increasing refinement of the singers’ performances could come about only through perseverance and constantly going back over the rehearsals themselves. What emerged here under my eyes and continual supervision could not have succeeded so simply at random. Scaria was perfect; Materna surpassed herself to become our finest Kundry, not least because she performed the part more frequently than Frl. Malten, whom I would otherwise consider the best of my singers, since the latter could obtain leave of absence for only a relatively brief period. Second only to her was Winkelmann, who made such extraordinary progress during the performances that great hopes may most certainly be placed in him. - The memoir of Gobineau strikes me, too, as one of those delicate and, at the same time, forceful pieces of writing such as perhaps only a woman might succeed in producing. Countess Latour will be providing a French translation of it, since there is probably no other Frenchman capable of understanding and valuing Gobineau sufficiently: he is no longer a part of the present generation. - There is a further error I should like to correct and into which my royal lord - very understandably - has fallen: the essay on me and Parsifal which won your kind approbation is the work of Count Schleinitz’s niece, a woman of a profound and enthusiastic temperament. - People are once again writing a great deal about me, and some of it is assuming a significant character: I am even told that a French translation of my Collected Writings is under way in Paris.
While abandoning my works to the march of time to influence them as it wishes, I rejoice in the splendid hopes aroused and fostered by my son. Until now it has been almost exclusively architecture which has held his attention with any force, but music, too, now exercises its powerful sway upon him; he is eagerly learning harmonic theory; but the theatre, too, and plays, which he is very keen to see here at the Teatro Goldoni, also interest him to the extent that he has already written out several tragedies for himself which he plans to rehearse with his young friends in Bayreuth. He has an excellent mother! He is on splendid terms with his sisters, all of whom love him dearly, and all of whom - mother, son and daughters - congratulate their father on the love of his august protector, his exalted benefactor, and his King whom God has sent him!
And so for today may I close the circle of my earthly existence by recalling the favours in whose noble enjoyment I am, unto death, my revered lord and friend’s eternal debtor.
For ever yours,
Richard Wagner
Source: Selected Letters of Richard Wagner, trans. and ed. Stewart Spencer and Barry Millington (W. W. Norton & Company, 1988), No. 500