As final preparations for the first launch of the Bayreuth festival got under way, J. Zimmermann, editor of the local paper, the Bayreuther Tageblatt, began a series of what ended up as twenty-three press releases to report on the events. Every fourteen days between May and August 1876, these articles, under the heading “Bayreuther autographische Korrespondenz,” were distributed by the festival board to approximately 180 press outlets throughout Germany.1 The releases covered a wide variety of topics: the arrival of the performers, preparations by the town for the anticipated massive influx of visitors, the progress of the final rehearsals, listings of the dignitaries in attendance, and the various honors they bestowed on the performers. The press releases were capped by a description of the performances and an account of the audience response. Approximately halfway through the series, as the full stage rehearsals began, the musician and critic Heinrich Porges, an integral member of Wagner’s rehearsal team, also began contributing to the reports, offering authoritatively written “behind-the-scenes” glimpses of the coming attractions.
It is difficult to determine the success of this venture. The Neue Zeitschrift für Musik published the Korrespondenz in its entirety, without additional commentary, as “Extra Beilagen” (special supplements) to their regular issues, as did the Musikalisches Wochenblatt—both journals based in Leipzig and decidedly in the pro-Wagner camp.2 Some newspapers and journals ignored the press releases completely, while others published extracts both with and without their own commentary. Today, such a mixed reaction would be normal, but back in 1876 there was real novelty in this particular effort at public relations. As Susanna Großmann-Vendrey points out, Meyerbeer had already used the press effectively to promote his works and influence public opinion prior to the premieres of his operas. Nevertheless, this effort by Zimmermann and Porges was different in several respects. First, the regularity and the consistency of the press releases, stretching over a four-month period, was unprecedented. Second, in addition to the basic “reporting” of events, both Zimmermann and Porges—from their different vantage points as “local correspondent” and “expert witness”—amplified their reports by commenting tirelessly on the historic significance of Wagner’s work and the event itself. This was a rather bold attempt at a public relations technique which in our own time has come to be called “spin control,” defined as the portrayal of an event or situation heavily biased in one’s own favor. Public relations (PR) is a generic term, also of more recent vintage, which refers to the attempt by individuals, companies, or other groups to present a carefully crafted image or convey a favorable message to a larger public, usually relying on a creative presentation of the facts. “Spin” constitutes an intensified form of this process, usually limited to the news media and most often associated with politics, with an emphasis on aggressive and highly manipulative rhetorical tactics designed to promote an agenda and sway opinion. The goal of spin is to influence public discourse by supplying the vocabulary and the phraseology used in the discussion.
It is a testament to the breathtaking modernity of the entire Bayreuth venture that Zimmermann and Porges engaged in techniques that can best be described using a vocabulary developed much later. As with any PR campaign, they ignore the real organizational problems associated with the first festival and actively deny negative “rumors” circulating in the German-speaking press. In addition, they engage in spin by making grandiose claims that Wagner’s Ring represents the rebirth of Greek tragedy, likening its greatness to Aeschylus and Shakespeare, and declaring the Bayreuth festival to be an event of German national significance. In this respect the Bayreuther autographische Korrespondenz transcends previous promotional efforts by the likes of Meyerbeer, Liszt, Paganini, and other artistic figures of the nineteenth century with a knack for publicity.
It is unclear just how much Wagner knew about, or had a hand in, this initiative. There is no mention of it in his published letters, nor in any of his numerous published writings and declarations accompanying the launch of the festival, nor does Cosima mention them in her diaries. However, the Korrespondenz borrows heavily from Wagner’s own stylization of his work as the world-historical culmination of German musical-cultural development and as an antidote to the ills of modernity, modeled on an idealized vision of ancient Greece. Moreover, Wagner, fully aware of the “importance for the future” of any chronicle of the festival’s first days, had written to Porges as early as 1872 asking him to take “intimate” notes during the rehearsals of the Ring in order “to create a fixed tradition” of its performance.3 Thus, Porges’s insider look at the rehearsals for the Bayreuther autographische Korrespondenz was fully authorized, so that the effort can legitimately be described as an in-house media and public relations undertaking and a forerunner of the Bayreuther Blätter, founded in 1878 with Hans von Wolzogen as editor and with Wagner’s active participation.
The tactic of using the available media to disseminate a carefully crafted message was one Wagner had already begun to use in the 1840s. As such, the Korrespondenz is just one—arguably significant, though under-reported—aspect of the prescient, comprehensive, and innovative project of self-promotion that accompanied Wagner’s creative work, a project I study elsewhere in greater detail.4
Wagner made no secret of his aim to get rich and famous.5 In part to secure this goal (in part to escape creditors), he had journeyed to Paris in 1839 intending to break into the world’s leading operatic scene. His failure to do so has been well documented, in the first place by Wagner himself. In one of the most amazing personal transformations, Wagner made his self-styled inability to succeed within the profit-centered opera establishment the leading hallmark of the persona he began to construct as a response. This response was a comprehensive struggle—creative, rhetorical, theoretical, and ideological—to establish for himself a self-contained niche in the opera market that he alone would control. His exclusion from the opera world became the basis of his claim to aesthetic exclusivity. Starting in 1840, he appropriated an initially German line of argumentation, already in existence since the late eighteenth century, which critiqued modernity in general and specifically the commercialized artworld, manifested first and foremost in the book trade. Thinkers and writers like Karl Phillip Moritz and Friedrich Schiller argued for an artwork created not in the hope of profit but for purely aesthetic reasons—an early articulation of the “l’art pour l’art” movement. “True” art was deemed an expression of quasi-religious significance, and its creator a divinely inspired genius. Wagner fused this with an increasingly assertive self-identification with Germanness, a nationalist identity he rediscovered even though, or perhaps especially because, he was still in Paris. These two basic components—Germanness and an anti-modern notion of pure art—became the foundation of the public persona he began to form during this early period.
Wagner’s activities go well beyond the types of “self-fashioning” already common in his day. His theoretical works written in the early 1850s were as much an effort to articulate a coherent aesthetic agenda as they were a means to separate himself and his works from the mainstream. He even wrote that he was no longer writing “operas.”6 So successful was his effort that today, over a century later, we use a distinctive vocabulary to identify and describe his works: music drama, Gesamtkunstwerk, leitmotif, Festspiel. These terms—some introduced by Wagner, some not—refer in the first place to his own work. I argue that Wagner did nothing less than create a “brand,” well before branding became standard among commercial companies in the later nineteenth century.
The crowning achievement of this forty-year effort was the construction of a theater exclusively dedicated to his artwork. “Wagner invented the modern music festival,”7 Frederick Spotts quite rightly claims, even though the music festival as an institution predates Bayreuth by a century.8 But more than just the first modern music festival, Bayreuth has become something like a company town, synonymous with the Wagner name, and hub of a complex “institutional network,” which comprises a production plant (Festspielhaus), Wagner’s home base of operations (Wahnfried), and the headquarters of the Wagner Society with its 136 chapters located in every continent except the Antarctic.9 Wagner’s effort to separate himself from the world of commerce, to create “genuine” works of art, has resulted in an industry nevertheless.
Though he protested vehemently against accusations of commercialization in his own lifetime, Wagner never hesitated to publicize his activities and encouraged others to do so. One example is Wagner’s 1873 letter to Emil Heckel (founder of the original Wagner Society in Mannheim) in which he asks his most “energetic” friend to put together promotional materials informing the general public about the planned world premiere of the complete Ring cycle at the first Bayreuth festival. Once Wagner had approved the text, Heckel was then to “bring the matter to the public, and indeed with awesome publicity, so that no one can say ‘I haven’t heard anything about it.’”10 In this sense, the Bayreuther autographische Korrespondenz was integral to Wagner’s own initiative and continued a project that, by 1876, had been under way for over three decades.
The Korrespondenz also broke new ground as an in-house media outlet that tried to shape the image of an event, indeed to create an event, before it took place.11 As a public gesture it also served to project the unique and exclusive nature of the Bayreuth festival, fashioning it as an event that represented and thus belonged to the German nation.12 This image of Bayreuth has remained constant since its inception, and is a testament to the PR talents of Wagner, his team, and the consortium that continues to maintain a media presence. (Given this, it is short-sighted of Großmann-Vendrey to describe the Bayreuther autographische Korrespondenz as a PR “disaster.”)
The following is a sampling of the releases. Since Heinrich Porges eventually published his own much more detailed essays on the rehearsals, serialized in the Bayreuther Blätter between 1880 and 1896,13 the sampling here is limited to those written by J. Zimmermann.14 All endnotes are mine.
The releases presented here include the first and last notices that frame the project, as well as a brief but characteristic one from the middle, chronicling the arrival of Wagner’s patron, King Ludwig II of Bavaria. Ludwig is a recurring motif in the releases, representing as he does not only royal patronage but also a stamp of approval with both regional and national significance. It is also interesting to note in the first release how Bayreuth is presented as a tourist destination. This as yet underresearched aspect of the Bayreuth festival was a factor from the start and included the marketing of the town, the composer, and the work in the form of souvenirs, guest services, noteworthy sights, not to mention the “unique,” “genuine,” and “authentic” experience itself.
J. ZIMMERMANN
Richard Wagner’s Stage Festival in Bayreuth
The moment draws ever closer for the performance of Richard Wagner’s Ring of the Nibelung in our “forgotten town”—as the Frenchman Victor Tissot calls it. Until recently, even friends of the poet-composer doubted the possibility of a performance. And, indeed, there were so many difficulties to overcome that it required Richard Wagner’s unshakable faith in his own genius, and his steadfast willpower during the most uncertain and critical periods, to persevere until the goal was reached. And now that—thanks to the tireless activities of the Master and his friends—the goal soon approaches, now that the dates of the performance are set,* the ideological struggle has been unleashed: friends cheer the Master on and wish him well, that he may soon achieve his ideal to give German drama a vital and living basis, infinitely enriched through its union with music’s unquenchable depths. Meanwhile, enemies compare this with the appearance of a meteor in the artistic firmament, not destined to stay illuminated for long. But everyone can agree that before us lies an event of the greatest significance for the arts. This is already clear from the interest that has been shown in the work from the loftiest circles all the way down to the average people. Registrations for the performances have been pouring in at a rate one could hardly have hoped for. The German Emperor (Kaiser) and King Ludwig II of Bavaria, the magnanimous patron of the arts and Wagner’s benefactor, have already officially announced their attendance. Twelve princes from home and abroad, whose names will be published later, have also made known that they will attend. The total number of visitors who will come here during the three months of the festival has already been estimated with reasonable certainty at 10,000. Given these numbers, why did Wagner select the tiny town of Bayreuth for the performance of his work? In his Reise durch Bayern (Journey through Bavaria), the Frenchman Victor Tissot criticizes the Master (even though he doesn’t know him), he belittles and derides Bayreuth (without ever having seen it), and offers the cursory answer: “Because he didn’t want to go to Munich.” But there would still have been Berlin, Vienna, Stuttgart, Dresden, etc. The reason for selecting Bayreuth as the festival location is a different one. First of all, Wagner wanted to be in Bavaria. In gratitude to the magnanimous Prince and art connoisseur from the House of Wittelsbach, so intimately bound to the history of art, it was clear that Bavaria should have the honor of the first performance. Moreover, the Master—who has a loftier goal than just a one-time performance—wanted to erect his edifice of the future and have his work performed on neutral ground, where neither his supporters nor his enemies would be present in decisive numbers. He is motivated by the thought that here, on neutral ground, he would erect a permanent site for art, and each year have a selection of his works performed, to give the disciples of art an opportunity to gain momentum as they strive toward the ideal. Out of this practical art academy, if I may call it that, the longed-for dream shared by all Germans to create a German national theater would become a physical reality, the progeny of that holy union between drama and music that lives in the Master’s soul as an ideal.
After this introduction, I now come to my actual topic: a brief description of the festival town Bayreuth, which is so little known elsewhere that a Berlin connoisseur recently dared to say that the one and only flaw of Richard Wagner’s new work is that it was being performed in Bayreuth. This Cicero pro domo seems to form his judgments only from a bird’s-eye perspective, just like the Frenchman Victor Tissot. I would like to offer a corrective to these prejudices.
Bayreuth, the capital of the Bavarian district called Oberfranken or Upper Franconia, lies at the foot of the Fichtelgebirge in an area that is as charming as it is healthy, purified by the air of the nearby mountains. For three generations there has been no plague or epidemic illness, and the town has been spared even sporadic appearances of the Asiatic disease, cholera. Bayreuth has about 20,000 inhabitants and is—for all who have seen it—without question one of those provincial towns that makes a most pleasant impression; it even has something of a metropolitan flair. Level, broad streets, with substantial houses throughout, intermingled with monumental structures give an inviting and agreeable stamp to the place. This exterior also characterizes the inner life of the bustling town, which also has a cozy, friendly charm. The fascinating history of the place is closely connected to that of the Margraves of Brandenburg, reaching back to its documented beginnings in the twelfth century. Bayreuth owes its current appearance to Margrave Christian of Brandenburg (d. 1655), to Georg Wilhelm (d. 1726), especially to the opulent tastes of Friedrich (d. 1763), husband of the Margravine Fredericke Sophie Wilhelmine, the witty sister of Frederick the Great of Prussia.15 The Bayreuth line died out with Christian (d. 1769), and fell to the Ansbach line. On December 22, 1791, Margrave Alexander turned over the governance and territory to Prussia in exchange for an annual pension. Between 1806 and 1810, it was under French control and, on June 30, 1810, fell to the Crown of Bavaria. Bayreuth, as we have said, owes to the Margraves of Brandenburg its current attractive appearance, the beautification of the surroundings, and the wealth of avenues and amusements which make it a match for any other town under the Crown of Bavaria.
Let us take a look now at the town’s sights. First up is Jean Paul’s house in the Friedrichstrasse, which is marked with a gold-embossed plaque.16 Jean Paul passed away here on November 14, 1825. The statue raised by King Ludwig I in honor of the poet—a masterpiece by Schwanthaler17—stands in the same street across from the Gymnasium. Devotees of the poet will find Jean Paul’s grave, a huge block of granite, at the cemetery adjacent to the Erlanger Gate.
The Old and the New Palaces are both former residences of the Margraves of Brandenburg; the former is now furnished as offices and apartments, the latter belongs to the Bavarian Civil List,18 and both are extremely interesting in terms of history and architecture. In front of the Old Palace, the Town of Bayreuth erected a statue of Maximilian II of Bavaria in memory of that beloved king. Behind the New Palace, the publicly accessible Palace Gardens stretch out their shady pathways and broad avenues, a beloved recreation spot for residents and visitors.
Among the city’s seven churches, the Ordenskirche in the suburb of St. Georgen commands special historical interest. It is called the Knights’ Chapel or Ordenskirche because the Knights of the Order “de la sincerité,” founded on November 16, 1712, first assembled their chapter here. There are ceiling frescos and the coat of arms of eighty-six Knights of the Order of the Red Eagle from the years 1705 to 1768.
One must also not forget the opera house: a colossal building, completed in 1748 by Babima [recte: Giuseppe Galli-Bibiena]19 under Margrave Friedrich. The interior has three tiers of richly gilded boxes. The stage is the largest of any standing theater: 42 feet deep and 34 feet wide. The portico is supported by four columns and above it are giant stone figures of the muses….20
So much, then, by way of a brief description of the major touristic attractions of Bayreuth and its surroundings, bestowed upon the town by its art-loving princes from the house of Brandenburg as well as by its current regent. May all our readers who have read these modestly written descriptions decide for themselves whether the fibbing Frenchman Victor Tissot was justified in calling Bayreuth a “forgotten town.”
I will describe the town’s major attraction—the Richard Wagner Theater—in the next article. I will also describe in detail what Bayreuth and its residents have been doing to suitably prepare for the arrival of their guests.
The pace of the past week has been brisk. Already during the general rehearsals, a large contingent of devotees and friends of art has arrived. This influx has increased substantially, now that the final dress rehearsals are under way, including the arrival of King Ludwig II of Bavaria. King Ludwig, accompanied by his Crown Equerry Graf Holnstein and his aide-de-camp, arrived here in the greatest secrecy during the night between last Saturday and Sunday. His Majesty ordered his special train to stop on open tracks near the famous Rollwenzelhaus (Jean Paul’s favorite place) at 1:00 a.m., and then drove on to the Eremitage Palace (about one hour from the city) in a carriage that had been kept in readiness for him, accompanied by Master Wagner, who had been awaiting the King’s arrival. The final dress rehearsal of Rheingold was set to commence on Sunday at 7:00 p.m. Thousands of residents of the festively adorned city, as well as visitors and local peasants, were gathered shortly before the departure to the theater to see the King. Only a few had the chance, however, because His Majesty, riding in a covered coupe, used a remote byway for his drive to the theater and so arrived unexpectedly. Master Wagner was seated beside the King in the coupe. The Rheingold dress rehearsal began as soon as the King took his seat in the royal box. The execution of both the musical and scenic elements was magnificent and extremely successful. It hardly needs stating that all the participants were inspired to produce their utmost because of King Ludwig’s presence—the benefactor and patron of this massive work, whose royal support is chiefly responsible for the success of the venture. In the course of the rehearsal, which lasted until 9:30, a special lighting of the town was begun. The illuminated church towers and elevated sections of the town offered an indescribably beautiful vista upon emerging from the theater. In the low-lying areas of the city, the Palace of His Excellency, Duke Alexander of Württemberg, Richard Wagner’s House, the Town Hall, the old opera house, and the Hospital Church are all marked by brilliant illumination. In the streets where a packed and highly spirited—though orderly—crowd awaited the King’s return from the theater, it was almost like daylight. Around 10:00 p.m., His Majesty—in the same coupe he had used on his earlier ride—drove down from the theater through the Jägerstrasse, the Opernstrasse, along the Marktplatz, returning to the Eremitage via the Schlossplatz, the Ludwigs-strasse, and the Rennweg. Wherever His Majesty’s carriage appeared, enthusiastic cheers resounded from the crowd that I imagine was at least eight thousand strong, including two thousand from out of town (conservatively estimated). The influx of visitors will only increase in the coming days, because yesterday we received official notice from Gastein that His Majesty, the Emperor of Germany will be arriving here next Saturday the 12th [of August] at 5:15 p.m. with an entourage of about sixty persons, and will be residing in the Royal Palace. Along with the Emperor, their Royal and Imperial Majesties the Grand Duke and Duchess of Baden, and Prince Georg of Prussia will also be arriving.
Today I report for the last time on the end of the great work that, with tomorrow’s presentation of Götterdämmerung, will conclude the current performances. I will refrain from any declarations concerning the significance of this moment. Much has been written in the last days both for and against the work and its author. The disagreements are stark, but even opponents concede the monumentality of the work and its significance for the development of art. When the waves of excitement have calmed, when the storms of these days have abated, the divergent opinions will become clearer, and the evaluation of what occurred during the month of August in Bayreuth will be reserved for an impartial and just critique. After these opening thoughts, let me summarize the third cycle.
His Majesty King Ludwig II of Bavaria—the tireless and generous patron and benefactor of Master Wagner’s intentions, without whose benevolent munificence the performances of the Ring of the Nibelung could never have been completed in this superb manner—arrived Sunday night at 12:30 a.m. on a special train, and once again disembarked at the Rollwenzelhaus in order to get to the Eremitage by the shortest possible route. The town was again festooned to honor its King; but the King gratefully declined any and all gestures of acclaim for the duration of this visit, so that he might devote himself fully and undisturbed to the pleasure of the artwork. At 7 o’clock on Sunday evening, the King drove through the town to the theater, and the performance of Rheingold began immediately thereafter to a sold-out house. Since I already gave the performers their due for the first and second cycles, I will limit myself today, and simply confirm that the third cycle was in every aspect a brilliant success. It seemed to me that the temperature in the house, which this time was rather cool, served to stimulate the performers, because their voices sounded so fresh and pure. Their amazing efforts really served to shame those naysayers who, out of jealousy and maliciousness, predicted that the singers would succumb even before the third cycle from the stress resulting from their colossal task. The task certainly was colossal for everyone, but the elite artists assembled by the Master for his work were immensely talented. Through to the very end, everyone’s commitment to the goal whose achievement they all have subscribed to has been enormous, and every participant, both on stage and in the orchestra has understood that they are here to make an idea in honor of all German artists come true. It was this knowledge that gave them the strength to keep on until the glorious objective had been reached.
The performance of Rheingold ended at 9:45 p.m., whereupon the King drove through the illuminated streets of the town back to the Eremitage. Prince Georg of Prussia and the Duke of Leuchtenberg—who also took up residence at the Royal Palace —were also present for Rheingold.
The King was also present for the entirety of yesterday’s performance of Walküre, along with Prince George of Prussia and the Duke of Leuchtenberg. This totally and resoundingly successful performance included renewed triumphs for Herr Niemann (Siegmund), Herr Niering (Hunding), Madame Scheffzky (Sieglinde), and then Herr Betz (Wotan) and Frau Materna (Brünnhilde). Between the second and third acts, the King had his aide-de-camp Freiherr von Neuffenberg bestow the Knight’s Cross 1st Class of the Order of Merit of St. Michael on Herr Niemann, the performer of Siegmund.21 I have heard that further decorations await the other performers of the leading roles.
Tomorrow evening, the King’s immediate departure after the conclusion of Götterdämmerung will be marked by a torchlight procession from the Eremitage to the point of departure, an expression of the town’s thanks to and respect for the beloved Monarch. A report on this will follow.
These are the contemporary circumstances that give the Bayreuth undertaking a national significance. Wagner was propelled to musically and dramatically shape a national epic of the German peoples, the Nibelungenlied, by ideas that were clear to him before they became so for the rest of us. Already in 1843, 1846, and 1848, Wagner conceived the work that was crowned in 1876.22 Today, no one would object to the political ideas that guided him back then. Even the non-conservative view—that art was not especially beneficial to the civil life of an unfree people, bereft of rights, as it emerged out of feudal conditions—was not so hard to understand. Germans should hold their art in high esteem as did the ancient Greeks, who loved and honored their art; they should know the Nibelungen epic as well as the Greeks knew the Iliad. A lot of verbiage has accompanied such claims, but the basic principle was correct and has been proven. Even if Wagner’s critics are correct that the festival which just concluded here was not entirely successful, and needs improving—nevertheless, the idea can no longer be undone. With ten Princes leading the way, thousands from north and south, east and west journeyed to Bayreuth with the greatest of sacrifice (in view of the current conditions) to become acquainted with the German artwork of a single man.
Consider briefly the following: in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, there was still no German art for the German courts to sustain. First Lessing swept our drama clean of foreign influences. Our poetry hails from the Court of Weimar starting 1759.23 Our new music begins with the birth of W. A. Mozart whose education was entirely Italian. In painting, the Italians and Dutch set the tone. Speaking French and singing Italian was the “fashion” in the courts until now, spread by their easily influenced servants from the bourgeoisie to their families and thence into the public sphere—hardly a surprise when even C. M. von Weber’s reconstruction of German opera met with boredom and indifference. Should we not honor this series of famous Germans who shook off the foreign yoke? Even if Wagner’s Germanness is perhaps a bit chauvinistic, even if his alliterations sometimes seem like a comic exaggeration, all this is incidental. Let us not forget that this stubbornly persevering German composer—standing on the shoulders of Gluck, Beethoven, and Weber—has dedicated his life to the independence of German art. So let him benefit from the fact that his festival has taken place at a time of reawakened national pride, a renaissance of the German Volk together with its arts and crafts.
I close with the words of V. K. Schembera in the Wiener Tageblatt:
“This work no longer deserves to be met with petty hostility—the entire world knows now what sort of victory the new art has achieved at this festival in Bayreuth. A new era has dawned in the history of art!”
And that will remain so, despite Paul Lindau’s bad jokes and despite the opposing doctrines of Dr. Eduard Hanslick!24
I still need to report on the two concluding days of the third cycle of the stage festival. King Ludwig II was present from start to finish of the Siegfried performance and, likewise, that of Götterdämmerung. Before Act 1 of Siegfried started, but after the auditorium had been darkened and the orchestra had already begun playing the opening measures, the banker Herr Feustel, as member of the executive board, stepped before the curtain. The auditorium was immediately lit, and Herr Feustel called for a cheer to His Majesty the King of Bavaria, the patron and protector of art. Everyone present enthusiastically joined his call and the orchestra accompanied with a mighty flourish. The King proceeded to the edge of his box and graciously thanked everyone. The performance of Siegfried then proceeded brilliantly: all the participants executing their tasks at the highest level. At the conclusion of the performance, the fully packed house broke out into thunderous applause.—During the performance of Siegfried, the three lovely performers of the Rhine Maidens were awarded royal recognition. King Ludwig had his aide-de-camp Major von Stauffenberg present the ladies Marie and Lilly Lehman, and [Minna] Lammert with precious diamond rings along with the most flattering recognition of their efforts.
In just a few hours, we will be at the end of the festival and, with that, will have concluded an occurrence that deserves a few parting words. Let us cast our eyes back to the three months that lie behind us, from the beginning of the rehearsals to today’s final performance. Let us praise the good fortune that allowed everything to go so well to the very end. —On June 1st, on behalf of the citizenry, we greeted the artists who were then arriving for the rehearsals: that select group, gathered around the Master to help glorify his work, deserves the warmest salutation as they depart. I don’t need to repeat the artistic merit these musical luminaries have earned for performing this work. The daily press of both hemispheres has emphasized unanimously how such a massive undertaking could only have been achieved this successfully with assembled forces like these. Moreover, the fame of this noble band of artists will not be extinguished by time and daily life. No, it will remain eternally recorded with golden letters in the annals of art. And whenever Master Wagner and the Ring of the Nibelung are mentioned in the art history of the future, there must also be grateful acknowledgment of his friends and comrades, the performers and the orchestral players, who helped to raise this magnificent creation to the pinnacle of fame. Richard Wagner has repeatedly recognized this without reservation, and history will be no less fair than the Master himself. And that seems to us to constitute the truest laurels—aere perennius.25 May they all return to their accustomed lives happy and content, secure in the knowledge that the citizens and residents of Bayreuth, who learned to love and respect every one of them during this time together, will always remember in grateful friendship the beautiful days during which they came to regard them as family. Our town had very little to offer our beloved guests, but that very little was offered with open heart. We are certain that those who are departing will judge their Bayreuth hosts like noble souls, who measure the intent and not the deed itself, and will remember them fondly, ignoring the occasional and momentary shortcomings caused by the limited means at our disposal. This is the genuine hope I would like to express most fervently on behalf of the whole town.
Now that we have given hospitality its due, let us not forget, departing friends, as well as you citizens of Bayreuth, the most important thing: our gratitude to the glorious protector of the artwork that has just been realized here, His Majesty King Ludwig II. Unflinchingly faithful to the illustrious House of Wittelsbach’s tradition of support for the arts, he was the first among all the German princes to recognize the importance of the Master—whose genius we thank for the grand work—and made it possible for him to achieve his lofty goal. Under his protective and generous hand, a Temple of Art was erected on the hill (Hohenwart). When the Master and his fellow artists, and all of us who were lucky enough to experience this celebration of art, look back on the course of epoch-making work with pride and joy, it is he (Ludwig) who is above all to be thanked. He honored both the Master and the performers by attending two complete cycles. He was responsible for securing the attention to and participation in the Bayreuth festival on the part of his illustrious relative His Majesty Emperor Wilhelm. All this royal favor and munificence bestowed on the arts may count as little in the book of history when compared to the political actions of our German King of Bavaria and the support he gave to the restoration of the German imperial crown.26 Now, as then, we look up to our illustrious Monarch with pride and faith, he who has always known how to conduct himself regally, making the right decision in momentous political moments, or—like a true patron of culture—committing himself to the support and elevation of the arts, regardless of whether this also serves his own needs and the ideal nature of his own being. The city of Bayreuth especially, steadfast in its devotion, will not forget the lofty virtues of their beloved Monarch, and how His Majesty’s support made the festival possible in the first place while also emphasizing its significance, all of which has increased the town’s prosperity and the common welfare of its citizens.
May these few words find echo in the hearts of all our departing guests as well as the residents and citizens of Bayreuth! —And so let our joint parting gesture be a heartfelt “Hail” to His Majesty, the German King Ludwig II of Bavaria!!
On the closing day of the festival, thousands once again undertook the long walk to the theater. The crowd was as vast as had gathered on opening night. The last performance thus turned into a farewell celebration full of earnest devotion and enthusiasm. Before King Ludwig entered the theater, Herr M. Rothenstein from Hamburg stood up and celebrated with impassioned words the accomplishments of Richard Wagner, and ended by encouraging the assembled crowd to cheer King Ludwig of Bavaria, the illustrious patron of the Master. Following this, the performance began. It was as brilliant as everything that had come before. It was as if all the participants desired once again to give their all in honor of the great enterprise. In particular, Frau Materna sang with such captivating verve, with such freshness, that surely all were amazed that such a feat was still possible after all the exertions of the preceding days.27 As evident once again yesterday, Frau Materna is a phenomenal presence in the artistic firmament. Herr Unger also gave his all for Siegfried to the huge acclaim of all present, even though one could discern something like exhaustion.28 This artist has also deserved the greatest praise for completing this immense task with unfailing endurance. The awesome final scene of Götterdämmerung went off perfectly, and when the curtain fell, a thunderous applause spontaneously filled the hall once more, as we had experienced after every performance. Never-ending cheers for the King mixed with demands for Wagner to appear. King Ludwig appeared at the edge of his box and applauded continuously. At this, Master Wagner appeared from behind the curtain and, with emotion in his voice, said a few words of thanks and farewell—the Stage Festival (Bühnenfestspiel) was over, and he did not know whether it would be repeated. He had proudly called the performances “Stage Festivals,” a name the approbation of those present seems to justify; this work so long in the making he titled The Ring of the Nibelung, a Stage Festival, and this day proves that it has truly been a festival. He had conceived this work, trusting in the German people, and had completed it to the glory of his magnificent benefactor, His Majesty King Ludwig II of Bavaria. The speaker then enthusiastically acknowledged the debt owed to the King for realization of the project, and thanked his lofty patron for all the palpable royal favor and grace. And then he again spoke about the confusion caused by the words he had spoken at the close of the first cycle.29 He hoped he would not again be accused of arrogance, if he said that this festival represented a step in the direction of a self-sufficient German art. Only the future would determine whether this step had been successful. Even if the performances have only been a trial, they will perhaps nevertheless not have been entirely in vain for German art. With impassioned words, the speaker then thanked his fellow artists who helped him to complete the work. As he said these words, Master Wagner turned toward the stage and announced that he wanted to see everyone again at this hour of farewell. Thereupon, the curtain parted and all participants stood there in a beautiful arrangement, with the conductor Hans Richter in the center, ready to receive the thanks of the Master. It was a sacred and moving sight to see the creator of this work and his comrades once more exchanging sentiments of respect and love. King Ludwig remained present in the theater for the entirety of this farewell scene.
In the course of the day, and also partly in the evening during the performance, the King had the following decorations awarded: Mayor Munker received the Commander’s Cross of the Order of St. Michael; the executive councilors Banker Gross and Attorney Käfferlein as well as Emil Heckel of Mannheim received the Knight’s Cross 1st Class of the same order; in addition the Court Opera singer Betz, Kapellmeister Richter, Professor Wilhelmij, and the Director of the Stage Hands, Herr Brandt, also received the Order of St. Michael 1st Class. Frau Materna and the Court Opera singer Hill were decorated with the golden Ludwig Medal for arts and sciences. In addition, Wilhelmij received the Knight’s Cross 1st Class of the Ernestine House Order from the Duke of Meiningen.30
Following the performance, the King traveled to the Eremitage and, after a short stopover, journeyed on to the embarkation point at Rollwenzel House, accompanied by the Town Mayor and Richard Wagner. To honor the King, a torchlight procession was set up along the entire Eremitage avenue up to the railway. The rows of torch bearers were for the most part composed of ordinary citizens and firemen from those communities in the vicinity of the Eremitage who had hurried over in large numbers before his departure to pay homage once again to their beloved Monarch—he who had stayed so happily in their midst—and to offer him joyously their heartfelt wishes for a safe journey home. The director of the district exchange, Councilor Kellein, together with representatives of the town council, accompanied His Royal Majesty to the departure point. To the sounds of the Bavarian anthem played by the musicians of the Seventh Infantry Regiment, His Majesty’s special train departed at twelve o’clock midnight.
1. In the following I rely heavily on Susanna Großmann-Vendrey, Bayreuth in der deutschen Presse: Beiträge zur Rezeptionsgeschichte Richard Wagners und seiner Festspiele, Dokumentband 1: Die Grundsteinlegung und die ersten Festspiele (1872—1876) (Regensburg, 1977), esp. 44-46.
2. The Neue Zeitschrift published the twenty-three reports in thirteen Beilagen between June and September 1876.
3. Letter to Heinrich Porges, 6 November 1872: “Noch ehe Sie mir schrieben, hatte ich Ihnen für mein Unternehmen ein für die Zukunft allerwichtigstes Amt bestimmt. Ich wollte Sie nämlich dazu berufen, daß Sie allen meinen Proben in derselben Weise, wie Sie es bei der 9ten Symphonie gethan, genau folgten, um alle meine, noch so intimen Bemerkungen in Betreff der Auffassung und Ausführung unseres Werkes, aufzunehmen und aufzuzeichnen, somit eine fixirte Tradition hierfür zu redigiren.” (Even before you wrote to me, I had decided on an assignment for you that would have a most important role for the future of my undertaking. I would like to call upon you to keep close track of all my rehearsals in exactly the same manner as you did with the 9th Symphony, in order to record and note all my intimate remarks concerning the conception and execution of our work, and thus to edit a fixed tradition for it.)
The detailed notes on the rehearsals Porges produced in response to Wagner’s suggestion have been published in English as Wagner Rehearsing the Ring: An Eye-Witness Account of the First Bayreuth Festival, trans. Robert L. Jacobs (Cambridge, 1983).
4. See my forthcoming book Richard Wagner: Self-Promotion and the Making of a Brand (Cambridge: projected 2010).
5. Richard Wagner, letter to Theodor Apel, 27 October 1834, in Sämtliche Briefe, ed. Gertrud Strobel and Werner Wolf (Leipzig, 1967-), 1:167-68. See also Wagner’s “Autobiographische Skizze,” in Gesammelte Schriften und Dichtungen (Leipzig, 1887-1911) (hereafter GSD), 7:128; 1:4-19; and Thomas Grey, trans. (“Autobiographical Sketch”) in Wagner Journal 2/1 (March 2008): 42-58, here 52-55.
6. “Ich schreibe keine Opern mehr,” Eine Mittheilung an meine Freunde, GSD, 4:345.
7. Frederic Spotts, Bayreuth: A History of the Wagner Festival (New Haven, 1994), 5.
8. London boasted a commemorative Handel festival in 1784 and, in the same year, Birmingham launched its Triennial Musical Festival, which would become one of the longest-running such events. By the first decades of the nineteenth century, music festivals like the Lower Rhine Music Festival (launched in 1818) also became established in Germany.
9. I borrow the term “institutional network” (institutionelles Netz) from Boris Voigt, Richard Wagners Autoritäre Inszenierungen: Versuch über die Ästhetik charismatischer Herrschaft (Hamburg, 2003), 208.
10. Richard Wagner, letter to Emil Heckel, 19 September 1873, in Bayreuther Briefe (1871—1883), Richard Wagners Briefe in Originalausgaben (Leipzig, 1912), 15:195.
11. “Die Festspiele wurden damit zum ersten künstlerischen Unternehmen in Deutschland, das einen solchen Informationsdienst unterhielt” (The festival thus became the first artistic enterprise in Germany to be maintained by such an information service), Großmann-Vendrey, Bayreuth in der deutschen Presse, 45.
12. Ibid., 45.
13. Serialization published in Porges, Wagner Rehearsing the Ring.
14. The releases included here are numbers I, XII, XXII, and XXIII. They were all published as “Special Supplements” to the Neue Zeitschrift für Musik, June - September 1876.
15. Originally Princess Wilhelmine of Prussia, the Margravine (1709-58), together with her husband, Friedrich, undertook major building plans in and around the town, including the celebrated opera house (Markgräfliches Opernhaus) described in this article.
16. Jean Paul, born Johann Paul Friedrich Richter (1763-1825) was a German writer of highly experimental—some would say eccentric—novels. He resided for a while in Weimar, but was never accepted by Goethe and Schiller. In 1804, he moved to Bayreuth where he spent the remainder of his life.
17. Ludwig Michael Schwanthaler (1802-48), Munich-born sculptor, was involved for most of his life in the civic building and decorative projects of Ludwig I of Bavaria.
18. Civil List denotes the list of individuals receiving pay from the government. It is unclear what is meant in this case, though it might refer to a form of government housing or housing for government employees.
19. Giuseppe-Galli-Bibiena (1696-1757), Italian designer and member of the Galli-Bibiena family which, over three generations during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, produced buildings, theatrical sets, and interior design that epitomized the Baroque style.
20. Three paragraphs describing further tourist sights in and around Bayreuth are omitted here.
21. Albert Niemann (1831-1917) was a tenor who came to Wagnerian prominence singing the role of Tannhäuser in the 1861 production in Paris. He created the role of Siegmund in Die Walküre at Bayreuth.
22. The first two dates seem to refer to Wagner’s preliminary readings; no material was committed to paper before the prose scenario/outline of October 1848, “Der Nibelungen-Mythus: Als Entwurf zu einem Drama” (The Nibelung myth: As the sketch of a drama).
23. In 1759 Anna Amalia, Duchess of Saxe-Weimar and Saxe-Eisenach, became regent for her son Carl August and began to establish Weimar as a center for the arts and culture. It also happens to be the birth year of Friedrich Schiller, who eventually moved to Weimar and became, along with Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, one of the principal exponents of Weimar Classicism.
24. Paul Lindau (1839-1919) was a German critic, dramatist, and novelist who wrote for the popular magazine Die Gartenlaube, including humorous reports on the first Bayreuth festival. He also published additional reports on the first festival titled Nüchterne Briefe aus Bayreuth (1876). See also Hanslick’s feuilleton essay on contemporary Parsifal literature included below, which cites Lindau’s reports on both the 1876 and 1882 Bayreuth Festivals.
25. “more lasting than bronze.”
26. The agreement of Bavaria to the unification of Germany under the aegis of Prussia, thus elevating the King of Prussia to Emperor of Germany, was a key factor in the momentous events of January 1871.
27. Amalia Materna (1844-1918) was the Viennese soprano who created the role of Brünnhilde.
28. Georg Unger (1837-87) was the first Siegfried.
29. Immediately following the final curtain of the first ever complete performance of the Ring of the Nibelung, the audience demanded that Wagner appear to receive their applause. Wagner said a few words and ended with something like: “Sie haben jetzt gesehen, was wir können; nun ist es an Ihnen, zu wollen. Und wenn Sie wollen, so haben wir eine Kunst!” (You have now seen what we can do; now it’s up to you to want. And if you want, we will then have an art!). This is the official version, published thirty years after his death in 1883 (GSD, 16:161). Since Wagner’s speech was improvised, there is no actual record. As there was a lot of noise in the theater, there is disagreement about just what he said. Some thought they had heard “deutsche Kunst” (German art), emphasizing the national dimension of the Bayreuth project that was soon to become such a potent political and ideological symbol. Others heard no adjective before “Kunst,” but instead thought Wagner had made the preposterous claim that before him there had been no art. Scandal and outrage ensued. The next evening, Wagner gave another improvised speech at the festival banquet, in which he vainly tried to clarify his point and repair the damage. For more on this episode, see Großmann-Vendrey, Bayreuth in der deutschen Presse, 230ff.
30. Among the honorees listed in this paragraph, Adolf Gross and Emil Heckel were instrumental in managing the funding of the festival; Franz Betz and Karl Hill sang the roles of Wotan and Alberich, respectively; August Wilhelmij was the concertmaster of the festival orchestra; Hans Richter the conductor; and Emil Brandt, the machinist or technical director, also consulted in the construction of the theater.
* As is well known, the dress rehearsals will take place on August 6th, 7th, 8th, and 9th; the first performance on August 13th, 14th, 15th, and 16th; the second on August 20th, 21st, 22nd, and 23rd; the third on August 27th, 28th, 29th, and 30th.