Monday, January 16:
My eyes are weak; I am not allowed to read, write, or sew. Richard orchestrates. In the newspapers it is still being reported that Siegfried is to be performed in Munich. God knows what will happen!
News that Bourbaki has scored a success; he is said to have 150,000 men. That disturbs us. I cannot believe that our Germans are really fated to be defeated by these hordes, yet everything which serves to raise the hopes of the French has a damaging effect.
At lunch R. talks again about Wilhelmine Schroder-Devrient and her performance as Romeo. "That really made me feel that everything hangs on the dramatic action; all the classicality, even quartets sound like so much squeaking, crumbled in my eyes at the sight of this human warmth. In fact the libretto is not at all badly done, and it had its effect on me when I decided to reduce Tristan to three love scenes."
His intended work The Destiny of Opera is very much occupying R.'s thoughts, and many of his conversations now lead in this direction. The significance of the orchestra, its position as the ancient chorus, its huge advantage over the latter, which talks about the action in words, whereas the orchestra conveys to us the soul of this action, all this he explains to us in detail. Every utterance from him is doctrine to me.
Richard Pohl sends us a biography of his wife; a quotation from Bach's chorale "Wenn ich einmal soll scheiden, so scheide nicht von mir" moves me very much by reminding me of the impression I once received from the music. I mention this to R., and he says, "On such feelings I have built up my whole Parzival." Then we come to the subject of the Last Supper and the profound significance of the community meal; whereas now the priest performs it, and subtlety has turned bread into wafers, etc.
R.'s letter to Stade has appeared in Fritzsch's periodical. First drive out with Fidi, in the new sleigh; Herr Am Rhyn has taken his away from us, we hire another, and R. and I and Fidi go to fetch Loulou.
Besides this, Jakob announces the arrival of Muni; this is the bull which is to keep Grane company, since Herr Am R. has also taken away his horses, and the stable is very cold. R. takes great pleasure in the word Muni; we look for it in the dictionary of Middle High German, but cannot find it; learn then from Hermine that in Wurttemberg dialect a bull is called Hagen. Hagen and Muni give us much joy.
Of lyric tenors and heroic tenors, in the sense in which they are engaged and understood in present-day theaters, R. says: "The lyric tenor is one who has no voice, sings with his palate, and has a high falsetto. The heroic tenor is a certain fellow who has learned nothing."
About Munich R. says: "How clumsily people set about criticizing me! They need only to mention my appointments, such as that of Cornelius, Porges, and above all the singing teacher Schmitt, to reduce me to silence, for what can I say to make people understand that such men can only be of use under my direction? What I ought to be pardoned for is having believed in the possibility of such a thing!" In the evening Gibbon.