My good Minna,
Best thanks for your letter received yesterday. Your humour delighted me greatly, only I am worried at your still complaining of such severe thumping of the heart. I'm sure the last Dresden excitements are to blame for it, especially that amount of lively talking, since you called upon so many persons. Why will you keep forgetting yourself like that, and not take due thought for yourself and what you need? I shall have to keep a sharp look-out on you when we do come together again. And mind you thoroughly obey me then! You shall have plenty to hear and to see; but much talking I shall not allow you. —
Fipps's revengeful deed is astounding; lucky you were by, to rescue the poor tormented foe: he had never been so barbarous except with cats! Nevertheless I'm looking greatly forward to the comfortable sense of having those surroundings also. How much I feel the lack of any living creature near me; my only consolation is the knowledge that you're not suffering it. However, all that will soon come to an end now, and Karlsruhe will act as bridge, even if it bears us across the Rhine and we have to remain there. Two months more, and we shall know for certain where we are. —
Nothing has happened to me since. Dräseke has left, and I'm all alone again. Yet I've had a deal of occupation; the proof-correcting keeps me hard at work. —
Why didn't I go to Brunnen? Child, if you had arrived here at the end of March, with the weather we have had, you would certainly yourself have rather thought of anything than settling there, with its only outlook on the desolate lake with its roaring Föhn-wind, and all the rest of that threadbare existence. Besides, like yourself, I have none but sleepless memories of Herr Aufdermaur's hotel, and still less could I dream of his pension (without stoves), since even here I learnt how early all these pensions are filled up with Basle folk and their fellows. On the contrary, I found genuine convenience here, excellent attendance, the most perfect non-disturbance till the end of June, warmable rooms, and even now real quiet in the big hotel, as the hotel-guests only arrive in the evening, go to bed tired, and make off again early next morning. Indeed one can lodge quietly nowhere but in one of these big roomy hotels, where one hears nothing of kitchen or service, all which makes sound enough in smaller ones. And pensions, forsooth: catch me in one of them! Believe me, under the circumstances — it was the only course left to me. And in general if one's not between his own four stakes, believe me, let him make straight for the best hotel; the prices don't differ perceptibly from those at inns of second rank, but the difference in everything else is enormous. Not that I mean to say, I should care to lead this life much longer; I'm merely waiting for a few more answers, to go to Paris after all, where I shall live cheaper in a garni, under any conditions, than here.
What I am most curious about, is whether I shall take a fancy to any dwelling for the pair of us — which would settle much; but in the worst event, and if my fortunes do not alter through the Karlsruhe production, in Paris we both can take a cosy garni to begin with, when the other thing will soon be found. My new opera is the main affair: that's finished, thank God, and will soon begin to be rehearsed at Karlsruhe. —
That brings me back to Lohengrin. Tichatscheck has explained to me how the one shameful skip in the duet of the 3rd act came to pass: the X (who has to sing alone there) declared the passage didn't suit the compass of her voice (!); on T.'s expostulating that it really wasn't permissible to plump out the second question so unprepared, she replied that she, the singer, must be the best judge of what to leave out, the composer had no voice in it. — Well — stupid enough the good lady appears to be, an arrant song-singer; and a mischief-loving face she also has, you can't deny: but in itself that cut is so revolting to me, that she has forfeited thereby alone all claim to my acknowledgment. And with that, Goodbye to her: I can do nothing with persons of this sort — unless they come and parir. —
T. wrote me that last Monday was the 6th performance to houses constantly sold out. What do you mean, then, by keeping on telling me of the audience shaking its head at this music? I should have imagined that what the totally corrupted Viennese immediately accepted with enthusiasm, could scarcely have caused the Dresdeners such mighty brain-rack: unless, that is, the execution was unclear in nuancing and tempo; which under Krebs must certainly be very much the case. The Vienna Kapellmeister came to me, you see, and got instructed! The result is manifest: at Vienna a swift and sure effect; at Dresden picking holes, it seems. But there, you mustn't let yourself be led astray by the reporters: in such cases they have hardly ever concurred with the public, which at least is always free from bias. And what sort of chaps these Dresden scribes are, I again have witnessed in the C. Banck critique sent me: it perfectly disgusts and sickens me, even to regard such stuff at arm's length. You mustn't dream of worrying about a thing like that, but never read it. In return, on my side I won't read what's written in my praise. Good, intelligent performances: that's what gratifies me; nothing else. —
I found the second Moudon address in the long run, and wrote at once. But the gentry there all seem to need a lot of meditation first: the answer is desperately late in coming; I'm waiting still. In the worst event, couldn't enquiries be made again of an institute in Dresden? —
Thanks also for the Rheingold score; it arrived quite safe. I am much annoyed at not being able to telegraph to you on your birthday; these asses declare they can only accept for Dresden, and I've learnt before how late it reaches you from there. You are right, however, we'll concentrate our forces this time on the wedding-day; I fancy we shall have abundant occasion by then to celebrate it heartily and in good spirits. So another fond farewell for to-day, my good Minna! If I've forgotten anything, I'll retrieve it in the next few days. Be cheerful and calm, and hold right dear
Thy R.
Source: Richard to Minna Wagner: Letters to His First Wife, trans. William Ashton Ellis, Vol. 2 (Charles Scribner's Sons, 1909), No. 187