Good gracious! here comes your and M.'s dear, dear letter! In my terrible mood, it has quite upset me. You will have heard of my letter containing my disgraceful decision regarding Tannhäuser in Berlin. In this matter I feel in turns trivial, sublime, and contemptible. The latter mood you have just revived in me, and I am inclined to repent that I have been trivial. But it is almost too late now. By giving up Tannhäuser, and at last even Lohengrin, to the theatres without reserve, I made such humiliating concessions to the reality of our miserable artistic circumstances that I can scarcely sink much lower. ONCE AGAIN I say, How proud and free was I when I reserved these works to YOU for Weimar; now I am a slave and absolutely powerless. One inconsistency involves another, and I can dull my unpleasant feeling only by being still more proud and contemptuous, in the sense that I look upon Tannhäuser and Lohengrin as altogether done with and no longer belonging to me, and that I keep my NEW CREATIONS all the more sacred for myself and my true friends. This is my only comfort.
What I am creating at present shall never see the light except in perfectly congenial surroundings; on this I will in future concentrate all my strength, my pride, and my RESIGNATION. If I die before having produced these works, I shall leave them to you; and if you die without having been able to produce them in a dignified manner, you must burn them: let that be SETTLED. Klindworth has probably not yet had time to write to you about my first appearance, but he is going to do so. After the first rehearsal the directors of the Philharmonic were so delighted and full of hope that they insisted upon my performing some of my compositions at the very next concert. I had to yield, and chose the pieces from Lohengrin. As for that purpose they granted me two rehearsals, I also fixed upon the Ninth Symphony, at which I am pleased, for I should not have given it with one rehearsal. The orchestra, which has taken a great liking to me, is very efficient, and possesses great skill and fairly quick intelligence, but it is quite spoilt as regards expression; there is no PIANO, no NUANCE. It was astonished and delighted at my way of doing things. With two further rehearsals I hope to put it tolerably in order. But then this hope and my intercourse with the orchestra are all that attracts me here; beyond this all, all is indifferent and disgusting to me.
The public, however, have distinguished me very much, both in receiving me and even more at the close. Curious to me was the confession of some Mendelssohnians that they had never heard and understood the overture to the Hebrides as well as under my direction. Enough of this. Many thanks for your introduction to Bruzot; I long for a piano and for my work. To the Grand Duke also I am much indebted. Let the Hartels have my Faust overture by all means. If they could turn the twenty louis d'or into twenty pounds, I should be glad. In any case they ought to send the money here as soon as possible. I do not like to dun the Philharmonic for my fee, and therefore want money. The proofs of the score they must also send to me for correction. The publication of this overture is, no doubt, a weakness on my part, of which you will soon make me thoroughly ashamed by your Faust symphony. When shall I hear something of that? I am afraid my chances of seeing you here have declined, since you write about this Hungarian commission. I can imagine how the invitation has pleased you; and I too am pleased and most curious to see your work. But when shall I see something of all this, you reticent person? Do you not feel how I must long for such cordials amongst the trivial surroundings in which I always live? I must confess, however, that I always prefer becoming acquainted with your creations through yourself. In that manner everything is disclosed to me at once that otherwise I have to disclose to myself painfully. This happened to me in the case of your KUNSTLER, while all that you gave me yourself at the piano at once penetrated me by dint of unconditional and perfect artistic enjoyment. When shall we see each other, you most amiable and noblest of men? Most stupidly I was unable at Paris to remember the address of your children, nor could I think of Belloni's address. By taxing my memory I went half mad. Now, stupid fool that I am, it occurs to me that I need only have gone to Erard's. In this manner I deprived myself of the pleasure of seeing them once more, which grieves me very much. Please let me have the address for my return journey. A thousand thanks to dear M. for her beautiful and kind lines. You all appear to me like a family of saints. Ah, we are all holy martyrs; perhaps I shall one day be a real one, but in that case all will be over for me with art—that beautiful delusion, the last and the most sublime, to hide from us the misery of the world.
Dearest Franz,
I am in the absurd position of having to demand of you a friendly service of a peculiar kind. I CANNOT delay the Berlin Tannhäuser affair any longer; my pecuniary position is so unfortunate that I cannot afford to forego the hope of Berlin receipts. Hulsen has applied to me once more, through Alwine Frommann, and, as he says, for the last time. He promises all manner of things; the opera is to be given in the autumn, and the preparations are to begin as early as the spring. I must adopt the trivial view of this matter, the same view which unfortunately I am compelled to take of the entire fate of my operas. In spite of D. conducting, Tannhäuser will probably have the same kind of effect in Berlin which it has had everywhere else; to connect higher hopes with it seems vain. Let the matter therefore take the only course which apparently is open to it, but I regret very much that you have wasted so much trouble and submitted to so many stupid things in endeavouring to accomplish the condition made by me. We are, as we now see, powerless. The fate which we must expect is, after all, the COMMON LOT. Our best efforts always appear before the world in a truncated and distorted form. I am going to write to Alwine Frommann that she is to accept Hulsen's offer without further conditions and to tell him that this has been your advice. The truth is that in this manner you will avoid a struggle which, in my opinion, would be fruitless. Klindworth, for whom I am grateful to you, will probably write to you about my doings in London; I can only say that I do not exactly see what I am here for. The only interesting thing to me is the orchestra, which has taken a great liking to me, and believes in me with enthusiasm. By that means I shall at least be able to have a few good performances, to which the people are quite unaccustomed. All other things, especially public, press, etc., are very indifferent to me. The directors insisted upon my performing some pieces from Lohengrin and the Ninth Symphony as early as the second concert, and granted me TWO rehearsals for the purpose. I am still without a piano. I long to resume my work. WHERE and WHEN shall I see you again? Taken all in all, I am VERY, very depressed. I am disgusted with the world.
Dearest Richard,
It would have been difficult to make Hartel consent to the change of louis d'or into pounds, and after considering the matter I simply wrote to him that you had left the Faust overture to me, and that in your name I accepted the honorarium of twenty louis d'or, asking him at the same time to send you that little sum to London. We will not let our hair turn grey over the Tannhäuser affair at Berlin. I anticipated this all along, although, for my part, I could not and did not wish to bring it about. I do not grudge your Berlin friends the satisfaction which this issue of the affair will give them, and hope that many other occasions will turn up on which I shall not be superfluous or inconvenient to you. The day before yesterday I sent the score of the Rhinegold (beautifully bound) to W. Fischer at Dresden. Has B. finished the pianoforte arrangement? In that case I would ask him to let me have it later on, and at my next visit you will sing and represent the whole to me. I am hard at work at my Mass, of which the Kyrie and Gloria are already finished. Apart from this, I have to conduct many rehearsals. Schumann's Genoveva will be performed on April 9th, and will give me another opportunity of studying and conducting an opera, which I have not done for the last four months. Next Sunday (April 1st) the oratorio Die Verklarung des Herrn, by Kuhnsted, professor at Eisenach and organist of Wartburg in spe, will be given at the theatre; and on April 20th Raff is going to give a concert, at which half a dozen of his larger compositions-amongst others, an orchestral suite, the hundred and twenty-first Psalm, a violin concerto, etc.-will make up the entire programme. This is the musical news of Weimar, which probably will be of less interest to you than to me. Of my life, my hope, my endurance, I have nothing to say that is cheerful…. Whether the great political event, the death of the Emperor, will have a softening influence on my personal fate, remains questionable. In a few weeks I shall have direct news. Whatever it may turn out to be, I cannot waver or hesitate.
Dear, great man,
For a long time I have been wishing to write to you, but had not the courage to do so. Alas! how can I speak to you from my heart? Today a sheet of paper with a red border comes under my hand; so many symbols are comprised in that colour! It is devoted to love, it is the purple of kings, and the image of human blood. It is therefore suited to both of us: to you as the emblem of your sovereign genius, to me as that of an ardent attachment, the flames of which are my happiness and my glory; to both of us as the sign of the wounds which destiny has inflicted on us without touching our souls. Need I tell you how much I should like to see you again, and how sincerely I desire that your sojourn in London will be agreeable to you in one way or another? I can do nothing, nothing, except the best thing of all: to love, to bless, to admire. Your affection is very dear to us; continue in it; it is the sun of our starless sky.
Franz Liszt
Source: Project Gutenberg eBook #4234, Correspondence of Wagner and Liszt — Volume 2, No. 179