Now I've only 7 more concerts to conduct and I shall be on my way back! And that's the cream of it all — is it not, dear Minna?
There you have my whole sentiments in half-a-dozen words. —
After the rehearsal last Saturday it had become too late to write, so I determined to wait and include the performance of Monday. As a fact it was the rehearsal that gave me most pleasure; the orchestra is quite distinguished in its correctness and tone, only it has been let run to seed in its expression by bad conductors. When I began taking the Beethoven symphony my way, it staggered them all: I pulled up frequently, and was very strict about piano; but I had the gratification of seeing how quickly my people got used to me: each succeeding movement went better and better, till at last I only needed brief hints to get everything in prompt accordance with my wish. These bandsmen can do anything; the wind instruments in particular are very good, and naturally there's no manner of question of such a plague as I have with the people at Zurich, for even the bassoons are excellent. So it also came about that I brought the rehearsal sooner to an end than everyone had feared. — On my presentation to it, the orchestra received me with prolonged applause; I got Sainton, the first violinist, to return thanks for me. After the symphonies, and finally after the whole rehearsal, applause broke out again. —
The Directors of the society swam in bliss, and assured me the orchestra had never played anything like so well. For all my reluctance, I had to consent at once to pieces of my own being presented at the very next concert; I chose the three pieces from Lohengrin (overture, bridal procession, wedding music and bridal chant) with chorus; the translation is being made already. They very much wanted the Ninth symphony of Beethoven to go therewith, and at last I consented because of our needing a chorus already, and also of my getting two rehearsals this time — on account of my own things — which I certainly am also very glad of for the symphony. Everything went to shew that these people's courage had been screwed up several pegs, and they set great hopes on me for an unusual success of their whole season of concerts; so they mean to strike while the iron is hot. —
At 8 yesterday evening came the performance, for which I was allowed to appear in a black cravat; only when the Queen comes, which simply happens once in all the season, must I be white about the throat as well. At the beginning of the performance the band relapsed into its old habit rather strongly, so that I felt I must work hard at it yet, before transforming it completely. The Eroica, however, especially the Funeral march, already went much better, — of course I'm only speaking for myself; for the others, all that went on was a wonder. I had a long and very hearty welcome from the audience — much better than at Zurich! — the orchestra chimed in with loud applause. Every movement was applauded, and at the close I received such an endlessly long ovation with Bravos, that I didn't know which way to turn with my bows. The band has taken me particularly to heart; many of its members assured me that everything I conducted had been entirely fresh to them; they had not known that before, though they knew almost every note by heart; so they begged me just to have a little patience with them yet. — But it is these relations with the orchestra that also constitute my only pleasure: all the rest leaves me cold, and in particular the audience; which distinguished me highly, it is true, but in whose regard my peculiar sense of such a thing distinctly told me that it can't in truth be moved; it all appears to me mere phrase and fashion. At bottom that's perhaps the case with every audience, in the bulk; and it is always a mere handful of persons more intimate with me, for whom I make music from the depth of my heart. Those — I missed very much here; and not until I transported myself to Zurich, during the Eroica, did I warm up and be quite Richard Wagner. Nevertheless, I appear to have made a great impression; Praeger has just looked in and assured me that everybody who understands music was in great excitement and had gone quite crazy over me. Well, we shall see! —
In my next letter I'll give you details of my other conditions of life here. Unfortunately, I am still suffering from a severe cold; the climate, with this awful cold damp fog, is very detrimental to me; I can never get properly warm indoors, the rooms are too badly protected, and the fireplace only gives heat when you're close to it. One has to spend a terrible amount of money! Almost daily 1 schilling for nothing but coals! The distances are so frightful, that I can't get on without a cab-fare every day. Half a bottle of claret at the worst restaurant 3 schillings, and so on. But, as said, upon that in my next. At present I'm awaiting news from you again; I was hoping for it yesterday. Your first letter rejoiced and touched me greatly; I thank you for it heartily, good woman you! Upon my soul, even here I'm really still at home with you and our dear friends. I also mean to write to each of them in time. For to-day greet all from all my heart; my homeland's solely with yourselves! Farewell, dear good Minna; soon more about my living. Farewell, good old Wife!
Thy Richard.
I haven't a wife here, but mother and sister; for Praeger mothers me, and Klindworth — a dear young fellow, just like Uhlig, recommended to me by Liszt — sisters me; so that between them I am very well looked after!
Semper and Klindworth saw me home last evening; they brought wine and champagne with them, and we sat up till 3 in the night. I'm very tired to-day. — Forgive! On Sunday I dined at Mr. Anderson's en famille; your health was drunk, which moved me deeply, so that I took a tremendous gulp. — Liszt has sent me no recommendation to Erard yet; so I'm still without a piano, and — alas — have not begun to work.
So — farewell once again, dear old girl! Give me very good news of yourself, that my heart may grow lighter when my thoughts fly home. — I'm intending to make use of Wesendonck's introduction one of these days — albeit I require nobody.
Source: Richard to Minna Wagner: Letters to His First Wife, trans. William Ashton Ellis, Vol. 1 (H. Grevel & Co., 1909), No. 77