Richard Strauss (1864–1949)
Suite from Der Rosenkavalier (The Knight of the Rose)
Symphonic Fantasy on Die Frau ohne Schatten (The Woman without a Shadow)
Symphonic Fragment from the Ballet Josephs-Legende (The Legend of Joseph)
No doubt about it, Richard Strauss enjoyed a long and
charmed creative life. His first major work was Don Juan,
scored in 1888 at the age of 24, a racy orchestral tone poem
without peer (the first of many to come). At the far opposite
end of his catalogue are the perpetual lilies of the
Four Last Songs, an exquisite cycle that Strauss composed
as his farewell in 1948–49. But from within those brackets
we find a wealth of Romantic passion, including the
famous symphonic poems which alternate between dark
philosophy and comic relief, and some very heavy-duty
operas such as Salome of 1905 and Elektra of 1908. Then,
in 1910, for a lighter change of pace, the composer
completed what he called ‘a comedy for music’, the
touching and ever-charming Der Rosenkavalier (The
Knight of the Rose).
Based on a three-act libretto by the Austrian poet Hugo
von Hofmannsthal, the opera is set in eighteenth-century
Vienna during the time of Empress Maria Theresa, but the
music of Der Rosenkavalier was inspired by the gaiety
and grace of the Viennese waltz, a form which did not
evolve until well over a hundred years after her illustrious
court. No matter—we are out to have fun. Moreover, this
is grand opera, which means that anything can happen and
usually does, like the fact that both the male and female
leading rôles are played by sopranos.
As the work evolved, a fascinating correspondence
developed between the collaborators in the early months
of 1909, including a letter from Hofmannsthal to the
composer on 11 February: “I have spent three quiet
afternoons here in making out a complete, quite fresh
scenario for a Spieloper, gay, almost pantomimically
transparent in its action, giving occasion for lyricism,
jokes, humour, even a little ballet with two large rôles for
a baritone and a graceful girl dressed as a man.”
On 12 May, Hofmannsthal added: “Your fear that
the work might be too subtle does not cause me any anxiety. The course of the action is simple, and intelligible
by even the naïvest audience: a fat, ageing and arrogant
suitor (for Sophie, rival to the Marschallin), favoured by
her father, is given his come-uppance by a young and
handsome fellow (Octavian, the Rosenkavalier) who is
played by a woman.”
A crisis develops when the Marschallin, who is now in
her mature years, realizes that she must give up her young
lover to a girl of his own generation. As for the cast,
Strauss had very clear ideas, noted in his later memoirs
titled Recollections and Reflections: “The Marschallin
must be a young and beautiful woman of about thirty-two,
who, when she is in a bad mood, occasionally feels ancient
compared to her paramour, the seventeen-year old
Octavian. Of course, Octavian is neither the first nor the
last lover of the beautiful Marschallin, and she is not to
play the end of the first act in a sentimental fashion, as a
tragic farewell to life, but all the time with Viennese grace
and lightness, half weeping, half smiling.”
After the opera’s enormous success, Strauss extracted
some of the great tunes into an orchestral suite, from which
followed a variety of derivations by various arrangers and
conductors. All of the renditions are centered around the
florid waltzes of Der Rosenkavalier. (By the way, Richard
Strauss and the Waltz King, Johann Strauss, Jr., were not
related.) And in every setting, the music resounds with
lusty tunes, swaggering rhythms, gorgeous harmonies and
a scintillating orchestration, all in tribute to the great
Viennese tradition. Wunderbar…!
Well into his golden years, Richard Strauss decided to
do some creative housekeeping. To be sure, the elder
statesman of the Romantic Age had no doubt that his
brazen tone poems and lusty operas would remain in the
repertoire. But he was concerned that a few of his favourite
scores had been eclipsed by the popularity of his signature
works such as Don Juan, Till Eulenspiegel and Der Rosenkavalier. So in 1946 and 1947, the composer set out to
give renewed life to a small handful of his lesser-known
scores such as the opera Die Frau ohne Schatten (The
Woman Without a Shadow) and his ballet score Josephs
Legende (Legend of Joseph). In each case Strauss reverted
to his mastery of the orchestral tone poem and created a
symphonic memoir of the works, preserving the storyline
and tuneful highlights in each case.
With regard to the original score of The Woman without
a Shadow, one can hardly imagine how difficult it must
have been, in 1919, to produce a new opera in Vienna in
the aftermath of WWI, ‘the Great War’. Nevertheless, the
German-speaking world was keen to welcome any
diversion from the angst of the present, especially from a
composer such as Richard Strauss, whose Der Rosenkavalier
of just eight years prior was now a sensation. The
new offering from Strauss, however, was cut from a
different cloth. While Der Rosenkavalier was light and
urbane, based on an every-day, amorous digression, Die
Frau ohne Schatten was a deep morality play with
scenarios worthy of Wagner.
Set in three acts in a time long past, the libretto by Hugo
von Hofmannsthal tells of a mythological Empress on a
tropical island who is unable to bear the Emperor an heir.
Moreover, the Empress is humiliated because her figure
casts no shadow (it was believed that a woman’s shadow
was the mark of fertility). But the servant Nurse (a
sorceress) knows how to barter with the gods and purchase
fertility from a common woman. If the latter is willing to
sacrifice her own future motherhood, she will be rewarded
by a lifetime of earthly comfort and wealth. The tall request
is offered to the bored and nagging wife of Barak, a town
worker who adores his wife, but who constantly indulges
her complaints about their ordinary life. But when the offer
is made to Barak’s wife, all kinds of strange events begin,
with depictions of unborn children singing from the flames
of the hearth, the fateful designs of a mystic Falcon, the
warnings of a lost Talisman and a phantom lover. As for
the Emperor, he begins to transform into stone, a symbol
of his unfruitful heritage.
Finally, at the dénouement, the Empress herself must decide whether to win supernatural happiness at the
expense of a common man and woman. But as a true
heroine, she declines the offer. Suddenly, a bright light
radiates from the firmament and reveals a vibrant shadow
behind her figure—it had been a test from the Supernal
Realms. The curtain closes as we hear the happy voices of
children to be, from the Emperor and Empress, and from
the good Barak and his now-contented wife.
In order to portray the characters, and their evolving
sentiments, of Die Frau ohne Schatten, Strauss follows
Wagner’s lead of crafting variable leitmotifs along the way.
Included among the many highlights in the Symphonic
Fantasy is the well-known orchestral Interlude from Act II,
in which the Emperor’s poignant mood is rendered by a
solo cello over plaintive, intriguing harmonies.
In 1947, barely a year after setting his ‘Shadow
Fantasy’, Strauss took up his pen once again and produced
another tonal-poetic summary, Symphonic Fragment:
Legend of Joseph. Originally completed in 1914 to fill a
commission for the Ballets Russes under Sergey Dyagilev,
who had earlier commissioned Stravinsky’s Firebird,
Petrouchka and Rite of Spring, Strauss’s The Legend of
Joseph is a one-act ballet based on a libretto by Count
Harry Kessler and Hugo von Hofmannsthal. Derived from
the biblical accounts in the Old Testament of the Egyptian
episode in the House of Potiphar (Genesis 37: and 39:), the
ballet-drama is set in Venice in about 1530 during the time
of Paolo Veronese. (The painter’s lavish canvases of
allegorical and biblical themes had great appeal to Strauss,
whose own command of the ‘orchestral oils’ was
unsurpassed.)
The storyline of Strauss’s ballet portrays Joseph as a
simple and virtuous shepherd who rejects the seductive
advances of Potiphar’s wife. But when Joseph declines,
Potiphar’s wife becomes vengeful and has him chained
and sentenced to death. Just in time, an Archangel appears,
as Potiphar’s wife hangs herself with her own jewels and
Joseph rises to a firmament of light and justice.
Strauss’s evocative pen paints a variety of alluring stage
scenes and dances, including the grandeur of a pillared
hall in Palladian style at the opening. In turn follow dances of slaves bearing jewels and carpets, and several character
settings, including the seductive Sulamith’s dance, a
Boxer’s round dance and emotive scenes of Joseph’s
innocence, Potiphar’s seduction, the Archangel breaking
Joseph’s chains, the death of Potiphar and the final
apotheosis of Joseph and the Archangel.
The full ballet is just over an hour in length, which
Strauss distilled down to about a third for his Symphonic Fragment. With meticulous care, the composer provides
several direct quotations from the original, including the
opening and closing sections, but has also rephrased and
rescored many of the orchestral highlights along the way.
Everywhere apparent is Strauss’s gift for soaring themes
and splendid orchestral effects.
Edward Yadzinski