Parsifal 1847495427, 9781847495426

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We are delighted to have the opportunity to work with Overture Publishing on this series of opera guides and to build on the work English National Opera did over twenty years ago on the Calder Opera Guide Series. As well as reworking and updating existing titles, Overture and ENO have commissioned new titles for the series and all of the guides will be published to coincide with repertoire being staged by the company at the London Coliseum. The updated reissue of this guide to Parsifal marks the return to the London Coliseum of Nikolaus Lehnhoff’s acclaimed staging of Wagner’s final music drama. First produced at ENO in 1999, the production has travelled to San Francisco, Chicago, BadenBaden and Barcelona, as well as having been filmed for DVD. This revival at ENO in 2011 will be the production’s final performances. Nikolaus Lehnhoff returns to ENO to direct his staging of Wagner’s final masterpiece, with a cast which includes the distinguished British Wagnerian Sir John Tomlinson (Gurnemanz), Stuart Skelton (Parsifal), Jane Dutton (Kundry), Tom Fox (Klingsor) and Iain Paterson (Amfortas). Mark Wigglesworth conducts. We hope that these guides will prove an invaluable resource now and for years to come, and that by delving deeper into the history of an opera, the poetry of the libretto and the nuances of the score, readers’ understanding and appreciation of the opera and the art form in general will be enhanced. John Berry Artistic Director, ENO February 2011

The publisher John Calder began the Opera Guides series under the editorship of the late Nicholas John in association with English National Opera in 1980. It ran until 1994 and eventually included forty-eight titles, covering fifty-eight operas. The books in the series were intended to be companions to the works that make up the core of the operatic repertory. They contained articles, illustrations, musical examples and a complete libretto and singing translation of each opera in the series, as well as bibliographies and discographies. The aim of the present relaunched series is to make available again the guides already published in a redesigned format with new illustrations, some new articles, updated reference sections and a literal translation of the libretto that will enable the reader to get closer to the meaning of the original. New guides of operas not already covered will be published alongside the redesigned ones from the old series. Gary Kahn Series Editor

Sponsors of the Overture Opera Guides for the 2010/11 Season at ENO

Eric Adler John and Gilly Baker Frank and Lorna Dunphy Ian and Catherine Ferguson Judith Mayhew Jonas and Christopher Jonas Ralph Wells

Parsifal Richard Wagner

Overture Opera Guides Series Editor Gary Kahn Editorial Consultant Philip Reed Head of Publications, ENO

OP OVERTURE

overture opera guides

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Overture Publishing an imprint of oneworld classics

London House 243-253 Lower Mortlake Road Richmond Surrey TW9 2LL United Kingdom The articles by Dieter Borchmeyer, Robin Holloway, Carolyn Abbate and Gerd Rienäcker first published by John Calder (Publishers) Ltd in 1986 © the authors, 1986 Articles by Barry Emslie and Mike Ashman first published in this volume © the authors, 2011 This Parsifal Opera Guide first published by Overture Publishing, an imprint of Oneworld Classics Ltd, 2011 © Oneworld Classics Ltd, 2011 All rights reserved Translation of libretto © Lionel Salter Library, www.LionelSalter.co.uk Reprinted by kind permission of Graham Salter Printed in United Kingdom by TJ International, Padstow, Cornwall isbn:

978-1-84749-542-6

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not be resold, lent, hired out or otherwise circulated without the express prior consent of the publisher.

Contents List of Illustrations 8 Recapitulation of a Lifetime, Dieter Borchmeyer9 Parsifal: The Profanity of the Sacred, Barry Emslie17 Experiencing Music and Imagery in Parsifal, Robin Holloway 31 Parsifal: Words and Music, Carolyn Abbate49 Discursions into the Dramaturgy of Parsifal, Gerd Rienäcker 69 Parsifal on the Stage, Mike Ashman85 Thematic Guide, Lionel Friend95

Parsifal, Libretto Act One 107 Act Two 157 Act Three 209 Select Discography 239 Parsifal on DVD – A Selection 243 Select Bibliography 245 Wagner Websites  248 Note on the Contributors 249 Appendix: Parsifal Cross, Wieland Wagner251 Acknowledgements253

List of Illustrations 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29.

Richard Wagner in 1877 Paul von Joukowsky, Hermann Levi and Carl Brandt Rehearsal at the Festspielhaus in Bayreuth (Lebrecht Music & Arts) Cast list for the first performances Amalie Materna, Emil Scaria and Hermann Winkelmann (Nationalarchiv der Richard-Wagner-Stiftung) Flower Maidens at the Metropolitan Opera (Metropolitan Opera Archives) Wieland Wagner’s first Parsifal design at the Bayreuth Festival (Nationalarchiv der Richard Wagner-Stiftung) Wieland Wagner’s production at the Bayreuth Festival (Eduard Renner) Ludwig Weber as Gurnemanz (ArenaPAL) Martha Mödl (Siegfried Lauterwasser/Lebrecht Music & Arts) James King (Siegfried Lauterwasser/Lebrecht Music & Arts) Waltraud Meier (Siegfried Lauterwasser/Lebrecht Music & Arts) Karl Muck (Lebrecht Music & Arts) Hans Knappertsbusch (Rudolf Betz) Clemens Krauss Reginald Goodall (Clive Barda/ArenaPAL) Ulrich Melchinger’s production at the Kassel Staatstheater (Sepp Bär) Edith Clever and Michael Kutter in Hans-Jürgen Syberberg’s film (Ronald Grant Archive) Ruth Berghaus’s production at Oper Frankfurt (Mara Eggert) Götz Friedrich’s production at the Bayreuth Festival (Siegfried Lauterwasser/Festspielleitung Bayreuth) Joachim Herz’s production at ENO (Clive Barda/ArenaPAL) Robert Wilson’s production at Houston Grand Opera (Jim Caldwell) Waltraud Meier and John Tomlinson in Harry Kupfer’s production at the Berlin Staatsoper (Monika Rittershaus) Peter Konwitschny’s production at the Bayerische Staatsoper (Wilfried Hösl) Nikolaus Lehnhoff’s production at ENO (Clive Barda/ArenaPAL) Silviu Purca˘rete’s production for Welsh National Opera (Clive Barda/ArenaPAL) Christoph Schlingensief’s production at the Bayreuth Festival (Bayreuther Festspiele GmbH/Jochen Quast) Stefan Herheim’s production at the Bayreuth Festival (Bayreuther Festspiele GmbH/ Enrico Nawrath) Claudio Otelli in Calixto Bieito’s production at the Stuttgart Staatstheater (Martin Sigmund)

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1. Richard Wagner in 1877, the year he began composing the music for Parsifal.

2. Paul von Joukowsky, Hermann Levi and Carl Brandt, the designer, conductor and technical director of the first performances in 1882 (above). 3. Rehearsal in the covered orchestra pit at the Festspielhaus in 1882, with Hermann Levi conducting. Wagner gives instructions through the opening in the orchestra shell at the top (below).

4. The cast list for the first performances. Most of the principal roles were double-cast (triple-cast in the case of Parsifal and Kundry).

5. Amalie Materna as Kundry, Emil Scaria as Gurnemanz and Hermann Winkelmann as Parsifal in 1882. All sang at the first performance.

6. Flower Maidens at the Metropolitan Opera, New York, c.1912. In 1903 the Met was the first opera house to defy Cosima Wagner’s attempted ban on performances outside Bayreuth (above). 7. The Grail Temple in Wieland Wagner’s first Parsifal designs at the Bayreuth Festival in 1937 (below).

8. Wieland Wagner’s production, which he directed and designed, at the Bayreuth Festival in 1951. It was not replaced until 1975.

At Bayreuth: 9. Ludwig Weber as Gurnemanz in 1951 (top left). 10. Martha Mödl as Kundry in 1951 (top right). 11. James King as Parsifal in 1970 (bottom left). 12. Waltraud Meier as Kundry in 1985 (bottom right).

Parsifal conductors: 13. Karl Muck (top left). 14. Hans Knappertsbusch (top right). 15. Clemens Krauss (bottom left). 16. Reginald Goodall at the Proms in August 1987, when he conducted ENO in a concert performance of Act Three (bottom right)

17. The Grail Temple in Ulrich Melchinger’s sci-fi production at the Kassel Staatstheater in 1970, designed by Thomas Richter-Forgach (above). 18. The actors Edith Clever as Kundry and Michael Kutter as Parsifal in Hans-Jürgen Syberberg’s 1982 film. (below).

19. Ruth Berghaus’s production at Oper Frankfurt in 1982, designed by Axel Manthey, with Gail Gilmore as Kundry and John Bröcheler as Amfortas.

20. The Grail Temple in Götz Friedrich’s production at the Bayreuth Festival in 1982, designed by Andreas Reinhardt (above). 21. Act Three of Joachim Herz’s production at ENO in 1986, designed by Wolf Münzner (below).

22. The production directed and designed by Robert Wilson, first seen at the Hamburg Staatsoper in 1991, at Houston Grand Opera in 1992, with John Keys as Parsifal, surrounded by Flower Maidens (above). 23. Waltraud Meier as Kundry (centre) and John Tomlinson as Gurnemanz (right) in Harry Kupfer’s production at the Berlin Staatsoper in 1992, designed by Hans Schavernoch (below).

24. Act Three of Peter Konwitschny’s production at the Bayerische Staatsoper in 1995, designed by Johannes Leiacker, with John Bröcheler as Amfortas, John Keyes as Parsifal and Marjana Lipovšek as Kundry (above). 25. The end of Act Two of Nikolaus Lehnhoff’s production at ENO in 1999, designed by Raimund Bauer, with Kathryn Harries as Kundry and Kim Begley as Parsifal (below).

26. The production directed and designed by Silviu Purca˘rete for Welsh National Opera in 2003, with Donald Maxwell as Klingsor, Sara Fulgoni as Kundry and Stephen O’Mara as Parsifal (above). 27. The rotating stage in Act One of Christoph Schlingensief’s production at the Bayreuth Festival in 2007, designed by Daniel Angermayr and Thomas Goerge (below).

28. The Grail Temple as Bundestag for Act Three of Stefan Herheim’s production at the Bayreuth Festival in 2010, designed by Heike Scheele (above). 29. Claudio Otelli as Klingsor in Calixto Bieito’s production at the Stuttgart Staatstheater in 2010, designed by Susanne Gschwender (below).

Recapitulation of a Lifetime Dieter Borchmeyer Wagner’s last music drama was seventeen years in the making. He wrote the first prose draft towards the end of 1865. Twelve years later, during the early months of 1877, he drew up a second draft and the libretto. He began composing the music that same year and completed the full score on 13th January 1882. The work received its first performance in the Bayreuth Festspielhaus on 26th July of that year. In almost every one of its characters and in the essential elements of its plot, Parsifal is a recapitulation, or what might be called a summation, of Wagner’s oeuvre. It is enough to read Cosima Wagner’s diaries from the period during which Wagner was composing the music of Parsifal to note the remarkable frequency with which he related each of the characters of his ‘last work’ to the dramatis personae of his earlier music dramas. A few examples will suffice. In a conversation with Cosima on 19th February 1878, he asked, ‘Who is Titurel?’ His answer was: ‘Wotan. After his renunciation of the world he is granted salvation, the greatest of possessions is entrusted to his care, and now he is guarding it like a mortal god.’ On 2nd March 1878, a comparison suggested itself to him ‘between Alberich and Klingsor’. Power at the cost of love and as revenge for its loss! ‘R. sees a resemblance between Wotan and Kundry,’ Cosima noted on 4th June 1878: ‘both long for salvation and both rebel against it, Kundry in the scene with P., Wotan with Siegfried.’ And on 29th April 1879 Wagner observed that ‘in fact Siegfried ought to have turned into Parsifal and redeemed Wotan, he should have come upon Wotan (instead of Amfortas) in the course of his wanderings – but there is no antecedent for it, and so it would have to remain as it was.’ 9

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To a certain extent Parsifal is a more intense version of Siegfried; like the latter he is characterized by an erotic mother complex, an ‘inexperienced fool’ and unthinking muscleman who soon renounces brute force and heroism. His breaking of his bow and throwing away his arrows is an act of purification whereby physical strength is spiritualized, and an ancient Germanic hero is transformed into a Christian anti-hero who learns what it is to suffer and whose very existence becomes a passio in the fullest sense of the word. Unlike Siegfried, who never attains to supreme ‘knowledge’ (this is reserved for the Norns’ half-sister Brünnhilde) and who basically remains ‘the stupid Siegfried’ (to quote Nietzsche), Parsifal becomes worldly-wise as a result of Kundry’s kiss: made wise by pity, he ceases to be a fool. As early as 1848/9, in his essay Die Wibelungen, Wagner had associated the Grail with the Nibelung hoard. In the chapter headed ‘The merging of the ideal content of the hoard with the “Holy Grail”’, he had written: ‘The quest for the Grail now replaces a striving after the Nibelung hoard’, which is reduced to its ‘real content’ as ‘an actual possession’, ‘ownership’ or capital. ‘Whereas, according to the oldest religious notions, the hoard appeared as the earth’s splendour revealed to all by the light of day’ – which is how the Rhinemaidens sing its praises – ‘we later see it in condensed form as the hero’s booty which gives him his power.’ In other words, the Grail is the complement to the Nibelung’s ring: whereas the Rhinegold, whose ideal and real meanings have not yet been divorced from each other, is reified as the ring or ‘a power-giving possession’, the ideal content of the gold passes over into the ‘anti-capital’ of the Grail. This, then, is the extent of the relationship between Parsifal and Der Ring des Nibelungen. Clear links, however, can be seen between Wagner’s Bühnenweihfestspiel (Stage Consecration Festival Play) and almost all his other music dramas. As early as 30th May 1859, in a letter to Mathilde Wesendonck, Wagner called Amfortas ‘my third-act Tristan infinitely intensified’. Bent upon dying, the king is reduced by the sight of the life-giving Grail to the same raging despair as that which Tristan is forced to suffer when, returning from the night of death, he is brought back to life by the power of the love potion. The reason why they die and the meaning of their deaths and, by analogy, the significance of the Grail and love potion are, of course, diametrically opposed to each other in the two works. Wagner originally planned to introduce 10

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Parsifal into the final act of Tristan as a stage in his quest for the Grail. Parsifal, who has felt within him the ‘Qual der Liebe’ (‘torment of love’) as a result of his fellow-suffering with the tortured Amfortas – a fellow-suffering intensified to the point of self-suffering, ‘Die Wunde! – Die Wunde! – / Sie brennt in meinem Herzen!’ (‘The wound! The wound! / It burns within my heart!’) – would have had a compassionate word to say about Tristan’s ‘furchtbares Sehnen’ (‘terrible yearning’). Yet it would have been only ‘sündiges Verlangen’ (‘sinful desire’) for him, whereas Tristan lives beyond the categories of sin and purity, seeking salvation and redemption in the very love (of death) from which Parsifal would have had to cure and redeem him, just as he heals and redeems Kundry. Two worlds would have appeared here side by side, but without any link between them – which is yet another good reason why Wagner refrained from weaving Parsifal into the work. There is a further work with which Parsifal’s name is linked: Lohengrin. Here, of course, the Grail king has a son, who is none other than Lohengrin, since at the time when this Romantic Grail opera was written, Parsifal had heard of neither Schopenhauer nor the Buddha, and had therefore not yet wholly renounced erotic love. Only the name, but not the character, of the later Grail king is heralded here. Yet one can scarcely fail to notice that the Grail mysticism of Parsifal is related to Lohengrin (musically, too) and that, to a certain extent, the former is an intensified version of the latter. (Wagner’s thoughts were revolving around the subject of Parsifal even as early as 1845, the period between the conception of Tannhäuser and Lohengrin.) But Wagner’s final work also refers back to his other Romantic operas. Kundry is a female variant of the ‘Wandering Jew’, as Wagner himself noted in the 1865 prose draft. She is therefore the counterpart not only of the Flying Dutchman (‘the Wandering Jew of the sea’ as Heinrich Heine called him) but, at the same time, of Wotan, whom Wagner similarly described to Cosima as ‘a kind of Flying Dutchman’. Klingsor identifies Kundry as a reincarnation of Herodias, ‘Herodias warst du’ (‘Herodias you were’), who appears as the female counterpart of Ahasuerus in legends and poems from the Middle Ages onwards; like the Wandering Jew, she is condemned to a life of restless wanderings over the earth. Kundry, the Wandering Jewess, 11

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‘endlos durch das Dasein [ge]quält’ (‘endlessly [afflicted] through this existence’), is therefore by no means a pure invention of Wagner’s. The medieval myth was taken up again by Eugène Sue in his best-selling novel Le Juif errant of 1844. Here Herodias accompanies Ahasuerus restlessly throughout history until, like Wagner’s Kundry, she finds redemption. And there were other writers, too, who recast the medieval motif in the years around the middle of the nineteenth century. There is no doubt that Wagner was directly inspired by Heinrich Heine’s Atta Troll of 1843 in his conception of Kundry. Here – as in many other nineteenth-century poems, including Mallarmé’s Hérodiade – Herodias merges with her daughter Salome. Thus Wagner’s Kundry is a reincarnation of both Herodias and Salome. As such, she has left behind her clearly definable traces in the poems of other fin-de-siècle authors, including Oscar Wilde and Auguste Villiers de l’Isle-Adam, both of whom wrote about Herodias/Salome. It is the curse of Ahasuerus and Kundry/Herodias that they must constantly repeat the very sin that was the reason for their having been cursed in the first place. In Nikolaus Lenau’s ballad Der ewige Jude (The Wandering Jew) of 1839, we find the following strophe: Weh’ mir, ich kann des Bilds mich nicht entschlagen, Wie er um kurze Rast so flehend blickte, Der Todesmüde, Schmach- und Schmerzgeknickte, Muß ewig ihn von meiner Hütte jagen. Alas, the image haunts me evermore Of how he begged to rest awhile, who came Aweary of this life, bowed down by shame And grief, and whom I ordered from my door. Just as Ahasuerus prevented Jesus from resting outside his door on the Via Dolorosa, so did Kundry laugh at Christ carrying the Cross. This is a radical reversal of the attitude which informs the metaphysical centre of Parsifal, namely elemental compassion for the suffering individual. That is why Kundry is forced to repeat her ‘accursed laughter’ with compulsive regularity, in addition to suffering the constraint of embodying time after time the depravity of Herodias/Salome. 12

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It is in Tannhäuser (and above all in the Paris version of that opera), however, that the most striking parallels between Parsifal and any of Wagner’s earlier works are to be found. Klingsor’s paradis artificiel resembles the Venusberg; Kundry is a second Venus; and in both works the cave of wanton delights disappears at a stroke, in the one case at the sound of the blessed name of Maria or Mary, and, in the other, at the sign of the Cross. Tannhäuser experiences the same duality of heavenly and earthly love as does Parsifal, and is torn apart by the same conflict between erotic desire and an ascetic willingness to atone such as is felt by Amfortas. And just as Tannhäuser abandons the god-like status conferred upon him by erotic ecstasy in order to experience human suffering, ‘aus Freuden seh’n ich mich nach Schmerzen’ (‘from joys I yearn to suffer anguish’), so Parsifal rejects, in a spirit of renunciation and for the sake of fellow-suffering, the supposed apotheosis promised him by the ‘serpent of evil desire’. In a letter to Ludwig II of 7th September 1865 (the year of the first prose draft), Wagner himself emphasized the connection between Parsifal and the Christian myth of the Fall as described in the Bible. In answer to the king’s question, ‘why does it take Kundry’s kiss to convert our hero?’, Wagner replied with an appeal to the mythology of paradise, the serpent and the tree of knowledge: ‘After all, you know the serpent in paradise, and its beguiling promise: “eritis sicut Deus scientes bonum et malum” (“Ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil”). Adam and Eve become “knowing”. They become “conscious of sin”. The human race had to atone for that consciousness by suffering shame and misery, until redeemed by Christ who took upon Himself the sins of the world.’ In Kundry’s kiss – that ‘archetypal miss’ as Wagner once described her to Cosima – we find a re-enactment of Eve’s seduction of Adam, and in Amfortas’s fall from grace Adam’s original sin. Kundry is, as it were, the serpent of paradise. Just as Eve is promised that ‘Ye shall be as gods’, so, in the prose draft of 1865, we find Kundry inviting Parsifal to ‘Enfold me now in love, and you will be God Himself this very day!’ (In the final version of the libretto, this passage reads: ‘Mein volles Liebes Umfangen / lässt dich dann Gott­ heit erlangen’ [‘The full embrace of my love / then would raise you to godhead’]) Original sin is therefore of an erotic sexual nature. Christ’s act of redemption, in the context of Amfortas and Kundry, 13

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corresponds to Parsifal’s act of salvation. Wagner’s formula in his letter to the king reads: ‘Adam – Eve: Christ […] Amfortas – Kundry: Parzival’ (Wagner retained the medieval orthography of this name until March 1877). As a result of Kundry’s kiss Parsifal gains an awareness of sin that grants him entry to the race of those who ‘know good and evil’. He who has not yet eaten of the fruit of the tree of knowledge knows nothing of good and evil until kissed by Kundry. The analogy between Christ and Parsifal should be drawn only ‘with a good deal of caution’, Wagner stressed. He later opposed Hans von Wolzogen’s view that Parsifal was a reflection of the Sa­ viour: ‘I didn’t give the Redeemer a thought when I wrote it’, he is said to have told Cosima on 20th October 1878. Wagner himself, then, clearly stated that he had never for a moment thought of regarding Parsifal as God or of making him a figure of redemption. There is not a single passage where a reference to the ‘Erlöser’ (Redeemer) could mean anyone other than Christ. Parsifal is plainly conscious of the distance that separates him, as a sinner, from his Saviour: ‘Erlöser! Heiland! Herr der Huld! / Wie büß’ ich, Sünder, meiner Schuld?’ (‘Redeemer! Saviour! Lord of grace! / How can I, a sinner, purge my guilt?’). The closing formula, ‘Erlösung dem Erlöser!’ (‘The Redeemer redeemed!’), can in no sense be interpreted to mean that the new redeemer Parsifal has superseded the old one in the way that each new Grail king replaces the previous one. If Parsifal participates in the redemptive acts of God, it is in the manner of a Christian saint, rescuing the Saviour, who is immanent within the Grail, from the guilt-tainted hands of Amfortas. This closing formula, which is in no sense enigmatic, in spite of the speculative attempts to inflate its meaning, can be easily interpreted on the basis of the text itself, and specifically of the so-called ‘Saviour’s lament’ in the second act: ‘Erlöse, rette mich / aus schuldbefleckten Händen!’ (‘Redeem me, rescue me / from hands defiled by sin!’). Having placed himself in mortal hands in the shape of the Grail and having assumed material form as a sacred object which itself now stands apart from all action, Jesus needs a pure individual to redeem Him. This act of redemption is a restitutio in integrum which finds visual expression in the reunification of two objects that had become separated, namely the Spear and the Grail – the weapon which had wounded Jesus in the side and the vessel into which His blood had 14

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flowed. The ending marks the return to a beginning whose intensified recurrence is the restoration of a perfect primordial state. The blood that now flows from the Spear is no longer that of a sinner but of the Redeemer; Spear and Grail become a single entity in this sacred blood, and Amfortas’s wound is healed when touched by the same Spear that had earlier caused it; the Grail fellowship is restored; Klingsor’s alternative world is exorcized, and Nature returns to her paradisal innocence (Good Friday magic). It is a Christian Utopia which goes back to the late classical idea whereby all things are restored at the end of time. Although the literary motifs and configurations of Parsifal bear a Christian stamp, there are of course other motivic groupings in which Hellenic myth repeatedly shines through. Parsifal, who heals Amfortas with the same Spear as had dealt the wound, relates back to Achilles, who healed Telephos in the same way, in accordance with the oracular pronouncement that ‘he who dealt the wound shall heal it’. But Parsifal also resembles Heracles and his freeing of Prometheus, who similarly suffered a wound in his side that kept on tearing open. In the Christian tradition Prometheus has repeatedly been interpreted as a Christ-figure. Gerhart Hauptmann, for example, observed that ‘the crucified Christ, with the open wounds in His breast, looks very much like Prometheus bound to his rock’. Because Jesus’s wound was dealt Him by Longinus’s spear, the very weapon with which Klingsor wounded Amfortas, the latter’s wound become an imitatio perversa of the Saviour’s wound. Greek myth and Christian legend are interlinked here in a intimate typological nexus. Wagner reserved his Bühnenweihfestspiel exclusively for the Bayreuth Festival, and this demonstrates the seriousness with which he regarded the religious form and content of his final music drama. In the face of the fossilization and denominational disputes of contemporary Christianity, he believed that art might rescue ‘true religion’, a point which he advances programmatically in his 1880 essay Religion and Art. It is reserved to art, we read here, ‘to salvage the kernel of religion, inasmuch as the mythical images which religion would wish to be believed as true are apprehended in art for their symbolic value, and through ideal representation of those symbols art reveals the concealed deep truth within them’.

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Parsifal: The Profanity of the Sacred Barry Emslie Art is a swindle. It tricks us, it seduces us, it does not – nor should it – play fair. Indeed we might find the aesthetic construct so bewitching as to conclude that it unproblematically integrates all its diverse elements. This is very difficult to bring off with a genre as heterogenous as the opera, but when it is accomplished the effect is uniquely overwhelming. I doubt that any ‘opera’ better exemplifies this than Parsifal. We experience its various ingredients as wholly blended into each other and, as a result, we are seduced by its redemptive conclusion celebrating the attainment of deep wisdom and the vindication of the most sublime notions of Christianity. However it is possible to unpick the seemingly homogenous weave of Parsifal, for it invests exactly the elevated matters at its core with their antitheses and then reveals that the triumph of the lofty agenda is not only dependent on the base alternatives, but implicitly celebrates them too. There is, therefore, a double agenda at work and if we consider a series of binary units central to its programme – sacrament versus sin, spirituality versus sensuality, metaphysics versus materialism – we will see that the triumph of the ‘good’ term comes about because of the productive role of its ‘bad’ sibling. Most significantly however, the ‘bad’ have not been banished from the field as the happy ending (whether narrative or ideological) is sublimely engineered. Rather they remain inscribed in the final apotheosis to the degree that they threaten to upturn it. Virtue is not elevated over vice; rather it enters into a covert conspiracy with it in order to colonize and enjoy its essential nature. As a result sin does not merely become a part of sacrament – that might be thought bad enough – it enhances it. This is the deep and sensational swindle of Parsifal and it is the aim of this brief article to come to terms with it. In this it will go a 17

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lot further than mainstream interpretations, and if the reader – no doubt wondering whether he should proceed – is to have an idea of how unconventional this will be, he might consider a remark of someone who knew a good deal about both Wagner and his last music drama. Hans von Bülow said that Parsifal was both quintessentially German and anti-Jewish. Now surely these are two characteristics which, on a first look, are not to be found. A closer look, however, will show otherwise, not least when a third factor identified by von Bülow is put into the equation: Parsifal is ‘anti-materialist’.1 However, while all this may serve as a warning of how far we are to go, it can be left till later. A good place to begin is the dialectical pairing of the spiritual and the sensual. The Spiritual and the Sensual This coupling is, initially, best appreciated, in respect both of Parsifal and Wagner’s work in general, in the context of two female paradigms: the angel and the whore. They are clearest in Tannhäuser. There we have one woman, Elisabeth, who is all elevated purity and the personification of German art, and another, Venus, who is a dark and sensuous goddess. Tannhäuser’s great sin is to use a singing competition designed to extemporize on everything the former embodies as an opportunity to praise the latter. And we should be in no doubt that this is indeed a sin; his expiation being the driving force of the rest of the drama. Now in the first sketches for Parsifal there were also two women; a wild woman associated with the holy Brotherhood of Grail Knights, and a fabulous odalisque, who has already seduced the leading knight (Amfortas) so that when we meet him he is in a state of continuous torment, constantly expiating his sins. This seductress is in the service of the failed knight (Klingsor) who has attained necromantic powers. She is to appear in the second (seemingly secular) act where her attempt to repeat her success (this time with Parsifal) forms the fulcrum of the drama. Moreover we should not forget that Amfortas’s fall resulted in the loss of the holy lance: a powerful religious and phallic symbol. It is now in Klingsor’s possession. Particularly notable as a further expression of the 1 See Joachim Köhler, Wagner’s Hitler: The Prophet and his Disciple (London: Polity, 2000), p. 215.

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parsifal: the profanity of the sacred

extent to which the spiritual and sensual are interwoven is Klingsor’s emasculated state; he castrated himself in order to escape temptation. As a result the lance is self-evidently both an absurdity and an obscenity in his hands, for he is a male madam running a brothel (his magic garden). And, in case we should be in any way uncertain as to the religious significance of this perversely sexual act of self-abuse, it is called by Gurnemanz a ‘blasphemy’. However the seductive homogenous character of Parsifal is most productively realized in the bonding of the two female figures. They become one. The crucial step whereby ‘the fabulously wild messenger of the Grail is to be one and the same person as the enchantress of the second act’ is something that ‘dawned on’ Wagner in 1860. At which point ‘everything else about the subject’ became ‘clear.’ 2 Above all, the composite Kundry figure enables the seduction scene to attain its deep and ambivalent significance; a significance inscribed in the manner in which Kundry attempts to entrap the pure but foolish hero. She does so in the guise of his mother. Parsifal’s mother has already been revealed as a key absent signifier in the drama and in Act One his tender mother-longing was depicted musically, whereupon Kundry, in her first manifestation, tells him his mother is dead. This is such a shock he becomes violent. In the second act however Kundry, through a series of subtle shifts, virtually becomes the absent mother. The Oedipal drama that follows is then played out until her climactic sensual kiss, which is also depicted musically at some length. By the way, in case anyone should think this is merely a projection of Freudian notions back onto Wagner, a look at Opera and Drama will reveal how fascinated by Sophocles’s Oedipus story he was, although it should be stressed that his interpretation wasn’t in every respect Freudian. Nonetheless, no one interested in Wagner’s dramas can be in any doubt as to the importance of incest. Thus it is from the forbidden kiss, from the taboo woman (the ersatz mother), that the pure fool drinks in the knowledge that allows him to effect the drama’s great resolution, which is, ultimately, to redeem the religious Brotherhood and heal Amfortas’s periodically (quasi-menstrual) bleeding wound; a wound that was caused by an act of penetration when the holy lance pierced his flank as it had once pierced that of the Saviour on 2 Selected Letters of Richard Wagner, trans. and ed. by Stewart Spencer and Barry Millington (London: J. M. Dent & Sons, 1987), p. 500.

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the Cross. In other words a sensual experience produces the spiritual miracle. By taking the kiss in all its completeness, but in breaking away from any further sexual penetration, and in linking his own sexually excited blood to the sinful blood that flows regularly from Amfortas’s wound as he performs a version of the sacred ceremony of transubstantiation (the Eucharist), Parsifal takes the crucial step that ultimately leads to his final metamorphosis as the ersatz Christ of the last act. In the meantime he regains the lance, banishes Klingsor, destroys the magic garden and leaves Kundry tormented and confused. In this she now reminds us of her Act One embodiment. Then she was, in her own way, just as tormented as Amfortas and just as driven to seemingly hopeless expiation. Yet we must not forget that it is incontrovertibly Kundry who, by violating the sacraments, engineers the spiritual miracle of Parsifal’s redemption. Kundry and the virtues of sin We should pay a little more attention to Kundry’s expiation, for her crime is a great one. She suffers because she mocked the bloodied Christ when He was carrying the cross to Golgotha. For this sin she is, like the Flying Dutchman, cursed; cursed in eternity unless she can attain redemption. She believed redemption was to be won in sexual union with Parsifal. However he tells her that, while he is indeed come to redeem her, it is not in the manner she imagines. But she cannot, in her ravings, disentangle her sexual craving from her pain and desire for spiritual redemption. She is, as Wagner says in The Brown Book, a deeply conflicted – in fact nothing less than a divided – soul (‘Endlich Zwiespalt in Kundrys Seele’).3 But even though Parsifal has, at the sticking point, rejected her, we can see that she was not far wrong. It is exactly that sexual encounter with Kundry that enables Parsifal to make the massive conceptual leap that leads, in the last act, not only to his own redemption, but also to that of the opera’s fallen Christ (Amfortas) and, most tellingly, to that of Kundry herself. Furthermore this association with Christ is extremely subtle and many-sided. It is profoundly underlined in the third act when Kundry takes on the persona of Mary Magdalene and performs the ritual of bathing and 3 Joachim Bergfeld (ed.), The Diary of Richard Wagner 1865–1882: The Brown Book (London: Victor Gollancz, 1980), p. 56.

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drying the unsullied Christ’s (that is, Parsifal’s) feet. This sublime act of self-abnegation (the music is incomparably ecstatic and elevated) is staged with strong sexual connotations, Kundry taking a phial of perfume from out of her bosom. This should remind us that Wagner, according to his friend Eliza Wille, contemplated a sexual relationship between Christ and Mary Magdalene in his early and incomplete Jesus of Nazareth.4 Moreover the comparison with the Flying Dutchman is also not arbitrary. He too, if the original story of Ahasuerus (the source for the Dutchman) is to be believed, was there on the Via Dolorosa and, in the person of the cobbler, refused to help Christ. While this is not mentioned by Wagner, the Dutchman has become, like Kundry, an eternal wanderer. More than that, Wagner tells us at some length in A Communication to my Friends that he is a manifestation of the Wandering Jew (although he is not explicitly Jewish), just as, in 1865, he compares Kundry to the same legendary figure.5 It can be seen from this sketch that Wagner’s recognition that both central female characters in Parsifal were one and the same (after all, this is something he claims to have discovered, not to have invented) produces an astonishing fusion of all the central notions of the drama. Above all, it takes the sensual into the spiritual without capitulating to it, and blends both deeply within Christian iconography. One might say that Kundry as mother and potential mistress symbolically joins that clutch of Marys at the foot of the Cross. And yet neither of Wagner’s two Christ figures (the fallen Amfortas and the once innocent boy Parsifal) dies; that is they avoid the destiny meted out to all the other redeemed Wagner heroes. Instead Kundry does. This is surely one of Wagner’s cleverest swindles. For here the female, realized in a uniquely complex and profound manner, is exhausted by the story and its symbols. In the last act she can barely speak/sing, uttering simply the word ‘dienen’ (to serve). Is not her final stage form as a mere mime a measure of Wagner’s total triumph over the female; one might say over Goethe’s ‘eternal feminine’ – a paradigmatic figure who crops up more than once in his writings? In Parsifal Wagner can be seen to have made full use of the feminine 4 Eliza Wille, Erinnerungen an Richard Wagner (Zurich: Atlantis MusikbuchVerlag, 1982), p. 34. 5 Richard Wagner, Sämtliche Schriften und Dichtungen (Leipzig, 1911–14) vol. xi, pp. 404–5.

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in all her ideological manifestations, to have utterly mastered her until she is superfluous. As a result his male heroes, now elevated to an unparalleled degree, can – exceptionally – live on. But Kundry, at the last looking adoringly up at Parsifal, must be got rid of. What indeed might have dawned on us if she had been given a living role in the final resolution? And perhaps it is some sense of this that makes so many directors reluctant, at the end, to follow Wagner’s instructions; instructions that reveal more strikingly than in any of his other dramas the loaded nature of Wagnerian redemption. Redemption Wagner’s music dramas from The Flying Dutchman onwards have often been called dramas of redemption, but in none is redemption (‘Erlösung’) as upfront as in Parsifal. There are deep-seated dramatic and ideological reasons for this. One we have already touched upon. Namely, whereas in the classic Wagner drama redemption involves the sacrifice in one form or another of the privileged woman (Senta, Elisabeth, Brünnhilde, Isolde ) who thus saves in one form or another the needy male (the Dutchman, Tannhäuser, Siegfried, Tristan), in Parsifal the model is upended. Although the hero is at the beginning as ignorant as Siegmund and Siegfried (these fellows really don’t know who they are), the knowledge he gains through the course of the drama and the new status he thereby attains elevate him above the privileged female(s). For instance, none of the ladies mentioned above is in any way inferior to the men they morally and spiritually save. Parsifal however is to become immeasurably superior to Kundry, who is consequently reduced to his stage handmaiden and implied mistress, before dying in dog-like contemplation of her master. A further characteristic of the boy hero’s redemption is also exceptional. Parsifal’s task is not limited to, or even essentially focused on, himself. True, he must redeem himself, but chiefly so he can then redeem the privileged community. Whereas other Wagner heroes attain redemption as a prerequisite to leaving the world for something higher and ‘noumenal’ (that is they are realizing Wagner’s version of Schopenhauer’s elevated escape from the misery of phenomenal or everyday life), Parsifal has come to save the world. In this he is a little like his son Lohengrin who arrives in Brabant to redeem it, being in 22

parsifal: the profanity of the sacred

no need of redemption himself. But unlike Lohengrin, who means to stick around but can’t (he is betrayed by a foolish woman), Parsifal is to stay. The Brotherhood will now flourish with him at its heart. Therefore his redeemed status has meaning (of which von Bülow must have been aware) well beyond the conventional Wagnerian story of individual salvation. This is underlined not merely by the ubiquitous reiteration of the term ‘redemption’. More significant is the special formulation tagged on the hero at the end. We remember that at first he was a fool preordained to learn salvation through pity, that he came as the redeemer in disguise, although by the end of the first act we are not in any doubt as to how transparent that disguise is. Parsifal must simply become through (sexual) experience what we already know him in essence to be. This is the prerequisite for his real function: not to desert the shabby world but to save the noble community which is going to take him to its bosom. Therefore when celestial voices sing at the climax ‘Erlösung dem Erlöser’ (‘Redemption to the Redeemer’)6 they are making explicit arguably the key miracle of the tale: Parsifal has attained the status necessary to fulfil his communal destiny. That community bears looking at. Race and Blood And what an odd community it is. The Brotherhood is decked out in the paraphernalia of a male religious order, albeit knightly and active. Chastity appears to be a virtue and the men (in priestly manner) perform the loftiest Catholic ceremony. And yet we infer that sex must be a necessary part of their communal life, not merely because one (at least) of their number – Amfortas – has sinfully succumbed. More remarkable is the presence of his father (Titurel) as an active (though off-stage) character in the drama. Even more remarkable, we know from an earlier work that Parsifal will father Lohengrin. As Nietzsche cheekily asked: ‘How ever did he do it?’7 So once again Wagner is very adeptly having it both ways, giving us the feeling of an ascetic life (with all the customary spiritual connotations present in spades) while according sexuality an implied place. Now, should 6 The translation here is that of the author [Ed.]. 7 Oscar Levy (ed.), The Complete Works of Friedrich Nietzsche, trans. Anthony M. Ludovici (London: T. N. Foulis, 1911), vol. 8, p. 29.

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we unquestioningly take on board the clever division between the two outer religious acts and the secular middle one, we may delude ourselves that the dual polarities are strictly demarcated. But the act division and the two intervals are just further evidence of the brilliant swindle that is Parsifal. For never mind the settings and the costuming; the ideological significance of each polarity spills over into the other, enriching it. There is also in Parsifal a further critically important marriage of theatrical and symbolic language: blood. From the time of the first prose draft (1865) to the completion of the final orchestrated score (January 1882), Wagner was much concerned with blood. He accords it an unparalleled significance, particularly, but by no means solely, in the essays that make up Religion and Art, which are contemporary with and clearly intimately related to the Parsifal project. The music drama meanwhile obsessively foregrounds it as both a signifier and an actual stage phenomenon, where it takes its (Wagnerian) place alongside the great religious symbols: Lance and Grail. Most notably during the ceremony of the Eucharist it is present in both its sinful (Amfortas’s bleeding wound) and sacred (the Holy Grail and the first transubstantiation) manifestations. Blood is a useful signifier for Wagner because it functions both as a corporeal commodity that can be staged, and as a concept with profound moral yet contradictory connotations. Some idea of how rhapsodic he can be about it, together with a sense of its ambivalent but far-reaching character, can be got from a letter to Mathilde Wesendonck when he compares the bleeding third-act Tristan with his blood-brother Amfortas and places the latter explicitly in the context of the Saviour and His spilt blood. [Amfortas’s] only solace lies in the benediction of the blood that once flowed from the Saviour’s own, similar spear-wound as He languished upon the Cross, world renouncing, world-redeeming and world-suffering! Blood for blood, wound for wound – but what a gulf between the blood of the one and that of the other, between one wound and the other! Wagner further underlines the wide-ranging significance of blood by insisting (uniquely, he seems to think) that the Grail is both the 24

parsifal: the profanity of the sacred

goblet used at the Last Supper, the source of the ceremony of the Eucharist, and the chalice in which Joseph of Arimathea ‘caught the Saviour’s blood on the Cross’.8 Particularly relevant is the disturbing manner in which Wagner carries over the binary unit of bad blood and good blood (the sinful and sacred blood of Parsifal) into the wider social context. He wants good blood to be German. Yet for all his insistence on the special nature of the German Volk he cannot bring himself to accept an uncompromised notion of German blood. He has more luck with language, the German tongue being, he imagines, still present in an unsullied and absolute form. Of course none of this possesses a shred of intellectual rectitude, but that is beside the point. However it is interesting that, although often inconsistent, Wagner acknowledges that German blood will have altered following the great migration from Central Asia. But happily he can make a virtue of this. German blood (which does thankfully get rid of the effete French strain) is enriched and strengthened by ‘barbarian’ blood etc. 9 Where he can be – or is determined to be – unbending is with the absolute antipode: bad blood. And this takes us back to von Bülow’s observations on Parsifal. Jewish blood has to be unambiguously bad blood; a matter on which Wagner in his late writings and private observations passionately insists. Jewish blood is ‘dreaded’ because it is exceptionally ‘corrosive’, overpowering any other blood with which it may be mixed. As a result, a child born with any Jewish blood will be perforce wholly Jewish.10 This negative paradigm is necessary to him and he even celebrates it, perversely admiring the Jews for preserving their cultural and racial exclusiveness down the centuries. Nonetheless, a perfect antipode to the negative Jewish polarity exists, at least in the religious mind, and it is extant in the impeccable blood of the Saviour, which in Parsifal is given stage life. As we have seen, 8 Selected Letters of Richard Wagner, p. 457. 9 See Cosima Wagner’s Diaries, ed. Martin Gregor-Dellin and Dietrich Mack, trans. Geoffrey Skelton, 2 vols. (London: William Collins & Sons, 1978–80). Entries for 4th November 1872, 26th December 1873, 9th November 1878. Also Richard Wagner, Die Wibelungen, passim. 10 ‘Know Thyself’, in Richard Wagner’s Prose Works, trans. and ed. William Ashton Ellis, 8 vols. (London: 1892–99) vi, p. 264. Cosima Wagner’s Diaries, 7th April 1873. Re intermarriage, ‘Know Thyself’, Ellis, vi, p. 271.

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Amfortas’s regular bleeding paradoxically associates his sinful blood (and ‘wound’) with the immaculate blood (and ‘wound’) of the Saviour. Furthermore it is the agenda of Parsifal to bring its eponymous hero to the point when he, in his ultimate Christ-like personification, can purify Amfortas, which is to say cleanse his blood. No doubt he has also done the same with Kundry, as we may infer from her transformation into Mary Magdalene. However, the implications of effecting the miracle in the case of someone also seen as similar to the Wandering Jew may be so disturbing as to underpin the decision casually to dispense with her at the end. And if we turn to Wagner’s writings at this time (above all Religion and Art) we see that it is to the crucified Saviour and His redeeming blood that he turns again and again. It is explicitly celebrated for its pacific (non-corrosive) character, for being in effect the blood of the Lamb. This is the impeccable icon he finally opposes to the Jews, who he argues cannot understand it and are condemned to besmirch it. For the victory of the Jewish Jehovah is the victory of belligerence and this has infected even misguided Christian ‘army-chaplains’.11 In general, in this late phase we discover the most far-reaching and intellectually deep expression of Wagner’s anti-Semitism and, consequently, his most ambitious claims for the essential metaphysical nature of what it means to be German; or, as von Bülow puts it, German anti-materialism. Metaphysics and Materialism Wagner’s metaphysical ‘worldview’ could be seen as underpinning the notion, popular with some, that Parsifal is an encoded Buddhist drama. Certainly we know that he was attracted to Indian religions and contemplated a Buddhist work (to be called Die Sieger [The Victors]), whose elements are traceable in Parsifal. But to see Parsifal as Buddhist is to misunderstand Wagner’s metaphysics. For ironically, the attraction of the Indian/Asian model is essentially German, just as Wagner’s Weltanschauung is a worldview only in the sense that it is driven by the quintessential racial and cultural characteristics of the privileged Volk. If one looks longingly to the East (Wagner imagines the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick I – Frederick Barbarossa – doing 11 Ellis, vi, p. 234.

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exactly this), it is because traces of the initial German spirituality are still to be found there. Furthermore, in Parsifal Wagner consciously brings all this to the West – to the quasi-mystical mountainous setting of Monsalvat. For instance he tells us that the original (i.e. eastern) Nibelung Hoard becomes the Grail which then comes to the Occident.12 Axiomatically it is only in the West that the ‘modern’ nexus of ideas with which Wagner is playing can take real meaning. And clearly Christianity is an essential part of that meaning, albeit Christianity ‘enhanced’ by the sexual and racial associations of Wagner’s deeper metaphysical agenda. In particular we should note one revealing difficulty with Die Sieger. Wagner knows he will have to violate the male Buddhist priesthood with a heterosexual relationship involving the Buddha’s ‘favourite pupil’; a relationship that leads to ‘supreme enlightenment’.13 That, at least, should remind us how crucial Kundry is. In general if we look over the whole trajectory of Wagner’s intellectual and creative life we can see that it is stamped by an ever deepening sense of the unique metaphysical truths embodied in German race and culture. That is, we should not take the final apotheosis of Parsifal (and Religion and Art and all the rest) as a category change. True, they express pessimism, a Schopenhauerian rejection of the everyday world of phenomena, to an unequalled degree, but they are far from unprecedented. Rather, what we have here is a culmination. And, moreover, a culmination that does not ditch the nationalistic and sexual elements that were always central to the Wagner project. If we go back to the mid-1840s when Wagner first read Wolfram von Eschenbach’s Parzival and Titurel poems, we finds him busy with a question that was to be the title of an essay twenty years later: What is German? In 1848 he sketched in Die Wibelungen a fabulous (in the literal sense) account of the German people and their history following the migration from the Central Asian Highlands; a matter which is, as we have seen, very relevant for Parsifal and the Grail. Here we learn that the Germans uniquely retained their deep spiritual character. At the same time he wrote the poem for Siegfried’s Death, dramatizing the mythic nature of the German Volk in the person of the hero who, he claimed, was an Ur-Christ; 12 Ellis, vii, pp. 293–94. 13 Selected Letters of Richard Wagner, pp. 424–25.

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although a vastly less knowing one than either Amfortas or Parsifal. Myth, it must be stressed, is not treated by Wagner with suspicion. Rather it is passionately brought to the fore as the embodiment of truths deeper and more spiritual than the academic historian can ever appreciate. And in the supposedly republican Vaterlandsverein Speech (1848) he celebrates the profound religious significance of the original German Kinghood. And so it goes on. German Art and German Policy places German Volk culture over universalist French civilization, while Opera and Drama explains how the first poetry and music of the Volk blend, sexually it might be added, to give birth to German culture; a culture which is, because of its deep and authentic roots, axiomatically superior to the (‘welsch’) alternatives that surround it. Exactly this is extolled by Hans Sachs at the end of Die Meistersinger. For Wagner does not have a high opinion of the Holy Roman Empire; he does not care for material conquest. In that sense he is no proto-Nazi. But we do know that should the Holy Roman Empire perish something much more sacred will live on: Holy German Art. And so on through to the Parsifal period. Surely Wagner’s great task, as he sees it, is the promulgation of German spiritual values unencumbered by, and hostile to, materialism. In other words von Bülow was right. If we are to appreciate how Parsifal takes all this to exceptional heights we need to consider Schopenhauer. Wagner claims to have read The World as Will and Representation numerous times, but has, nevertheless, an unconventional view of the philosopher. Consider the composer’s notion of redemption. Clearly it has a parallel status to Schopenhauer’s notion of renunciation, whereby the world is given up as a miserable place not worth the candle; the ascetic in his cave, or the eastern mystic being the Schopenhauerian ideal. Indeed, as a result of lonely contemplation one might even reach the higher noumenal realm. This rejection of the material world is attractive to Wagner, but he holds determinedly onto a wholly a-Schopenhauerian idea of how the ascension to the higher realm is to be engineered. Put simply, the royal Wagnerian road is sex; heterosexual sex. He insists time and again on this and when busy with Tristan und Isolde even attempts a letter (aborted) to Schopenhauer pointing out the error of his ways. The philosopher has not ‘recognized’ that the path to ‘salvation’ is accomplished through ‘sexual love.’ Wagner claims this 28

parsifal: the profanity of the sacred

‘correction’ of Schopenhauer ‘will take me very far indeed’.14 Thus we see another expression of Wagnerian duality or, to be more direct, of the Wagnerian swindle that we know well from Parsifal. Namely, the ethereal is reached through the bodily experience of the sexually bonded couple. We can then see that Wagner’s metaphysics – for all the other-worldly, but ecstatic, music – holds onto materialism in one respect at least. Perhaps for purely personal reasons von Bülow, who lost his wife to Wagner, knew that too, but doesn’t want to talk about it. Nonetheless, the Parsifal phase remains exceptionally abstract. All the striving associated with Siegfried et al. is gone. The dominant values are indeed contemplative and the stage experience ultimately forgoes narrative and turns into ritual. One can understand why audiences get a kick out of feeling they are in a church. And this evokes a further link with Schopenhauer. Gurnemanz famously says that in the home of the Grail ‘time becomes space’. Wagner is drawing our attention here to Schopenhauer’s claim that music can only be appreciated ‘through time alone with absolute exclusion of space’, and, moreover, that our consciousness has no form, ‘only time.’15 Crucially this is the source of our misery. We – poor fools – are like the Parsifal of the first act. We do not understand why we are wretched and we give ourselves over to meaningless egotistical striving. Remember, the first thing we know of Parsifal is that he has killed a swan. But Wagner is, again, bent on outbidding the philosopher. In turning time into space, one transcends in the here and now the mean and cruel quotidian world. But surely this has profound consequences. For if it were accomplished there would be no place for action, no framework for narrative (which is intrinsically temporal), no place in fact for drama. The victory of space over time replaces the playhouse with a temple. Therefore we can hardly be surprised if Parsifal was the end of the theatrical road for Wagner. Yet we have good reason to be in awe of it, for it is Wagner’s greatest swindle. But that awe (and pleasure) will only be deeper if it is based on a real appreciation of the contradictions (chiefly sensual 14 Selected Letters of Richard Wagner, p. 432. 15 Arthur Schopenhauer, The World as Will and Representation, trans. E. F. J. Payne, 2 vols. (New York: Dover Publications, 1958), vol. 1, p. 266, and vol. 2, p. 137.

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and spiritual) which it so wonderfully and deviously reconciles. Furthermore, understanding the role of the seemingly excluded ingredients will lead to a much richer experience than that enjoyed by the stupefied acolyte, unthinkingly high on the famous Wagnerian musical narcotic or ‘Rausch’. Just as Kundry’s sensuality leads Parsifal to nothing less than the Godhead, so Wagner’s perverse obsession with what is German and what is not leads him to productively incorporate nothing less than racism into the metaphysical brew. As he tells Nietzsche, ‘Germanness is a purely metaphysical concept’ and it is ‘unique in the history of the world’. But wait. He declares that it does in fact have a counterpart: ‘Judaism’.16 And without this binary unit too, Parsifal could not have been created.

16 Selected Letters of Richard Wagner, p. 812.

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Experiencing Music and Imagery in Parsifal Robin Holloway Parsifal is the supreme instance of music drama realized by means of a sonorous image-cluster: a central complex of metaphor expresses at once the story, the characters whose story it is and the broader subject-matter that lies within character and event; all this is caught or borne by the music, everything fusing together into an indivisible whole. There is nothing like it in any other composer’s work; indeed the only comparison is with the relationship of plot and character with the verbal imagery in mature Shakespearian tragedy. The sonorous image-cluster grows from the direct though not ne­ cessarily simple leitmotivic usage in the Ring. It is special to Tristan and Parsifal and can more easily be described in the earlier work. All the central material in Tristan is manifestly related to the melody, chord and progression of the opening. Its unmissable recurrences, carefully placed at hinges in the story which are also crucial in expression both of subject and psychological theme, project local meaning into large-scale aural architecture. For each further reference to the opening calls and includes those before, requiring the listener to remember and compare, to make intelligible, and therefore to interpret, its ever-wider ramifying implications. The opening also generates endless detail that gradually aligns itself and merges with material at first apparently quite distinct. And so it can eventually gather together the whole enormous span, being at once its outer limits, its principal junctions and its core. It is not a leitmotif; its use is far too rich and pervasive to be named. It is all-comprehending – what the work is made of and what it is about. The sonorous image-cluster is the nucleus that gives life to the work’s expressive and musical substance. 31

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This, together with the altogether different Meistersinger technique of building huge diatonic paragraphs that unfold quasipolyphonically on a minimum of leitmotivic material, is Parsifal’s starting point. In some ways it is simpler, as if after the overwhelming abundance and complexity of the last four acts of the Ring, Wagner is not so much returning to basics (though there is an element of this) as refining and quintessentializing all his discoveries, concentrated in a chalice rather than spilling forth from a cornucopia. Indeed this final simplicity can sometimes seem calculated to demonstrate, as well as to explore, a close area of tight interconnections. Every character in Parsifal can be identified by a thematic tag as if we were back in Rheingold. Hearing a major triad and added sixth (i), or a minor triad with strong augmented coloration (ii): (i)

(ii) and so to (iii)

we know at once who is meant and how they are related. Have the minor triad rise rather than fall, diminish then expand its fifth, and (i) (iv) a whole physiognomy and psychology come instantly to mind (iii). Take the same phrase but lower the octave from the third note and (ii) continue in sequence (iv) and we have an equally recognisable charto one before: acter, related significantlyand tosothe (iii)

(iv)

Such demonstrativeness might seem like a reversion to the earliest phrase of leitmotivic technique. But Tristan has intervened, where the lovers are merged into the central sonorous image to such a point of cross-identity (even interchangeability) as neither to possess, nor to need, individual themes. And what is new to Parsifal is the small differentiation of the character-tags. The motifs just shown are for 32

experiencing music and imagery in parsifal

the four principal characters – Parsifal, Amfortas, Kundry, Klingsor – but what they have in common is as important as what makes them distinct. Their common ground lies ultimately in their relation to the six-bar melody whose quadruple statement so unforgettably opens the entire work. First it comes in the major [1]1 in subtly scored unison, and is at once reiterated surrounded by a fleecy nimbus of repeated chords and arpeggios, trailing off into the heights. After a long pause the melody returns in the minor, rhythmically, intervallically and orchestrally intensified; again the fully scored and harmonized presentation follows and disappears into silence. This wonderfully fertile melodic shape, in its diatonic and chromatic versions, gathers in or gives out all the central material of the work. In the major mode it is sometimes used complete, as during Communion in Act One, and can be broadened into the sweeping melodic arcs of the choruses that follow. All the motifs bracketed within [1] are in play throughout (the version of (a) reserved for two moments of special fulfilment is important enough to be called [2]). And this major-mode version also contains the multitude of simple diatonic fragments that make up the work’s imagery of goodness, innocence, holiness, purity in nature and in the human heart – from the Dresden Amen [25], the motifs of Dove [11], Swan [22] and Monsalvat Bells [30] to the music of Nature’s Healing in Act One [40] and its full flowering in the Good Friday Baptism [27] and Meadows [28] in Act Three, from the most gigantic diatonic sound in the whole work, the longsustained alternations of the tonic and dominant in the whole orchestra when Parsifal is crowned Lord of the Grail, to the serene terraces of consonance upon which it closes. All these interconnections are summarized in the following slightly tongue-in-cheek ideogram (which puts all the music into the work’s opening and closing key of A flat for ease of comparison). It can be read left to right for musical line and story-line; and up and down for the vertical parallels that support the sense one has when listening that all this material is made out of the same diatonic shapes. 1 Numbers in square brackets refer to the Thematic Guide on pp. 95–104 [Ed.].

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The Dresden Amen

and the Opening Theme

(climactic version) for the

baptism

of

Parsifal,

In the Good Friday Meadows près de Monsalvat built upon the Rock of Ages (silent role – and often lost to sight and sound)

The minor-mode or chromatic version of the opening melody is more a source from which grows, rather than a synthesis of, the work’s imagery of guilt, suffering, and the uncleanness that yearns for purification and redemption: x

y

dim.

x

y

Amfortas’s motif is made from (x) inverted followed by (y) the right dim.simplified to facilitate comparison): way up (given here in C and Kundry

deadlock

pun

opening melody motif

melody motif of the first bar with the deadlock pun opening Kundry’s motif [4] derives from a conflation Kundry chromatic intensification of the second; while the dissonant harmony associated with her uncouth laughter is taken from the crucial chord in Amfortas’s motif (its third bar), spelling out by sonorous means etc.

on for ever, or interrupted etc. thus:on for ever,

34 (opening melody)

experiencing music and imagery in parsifal

the connection that binds them. Klingsor’s motif [7] is a further filling-out of the Kundry-shape (as shown more simply in the third paragraph, above); and many other chromatic motifs and fragments associated with guilt and suffering derive from the same fertile six bars of the prelude. The major and minor versions of this passage, taken together, focus the sense that the whole enormous work is mainly made out of a surprisingly small web of closely related motifs not very greatly distinct from each other. This would seem to make the central core a contrast, or series of connected contrasts, set up in the basic musical material itself, which embodies those in the story and its characters: between purity and impurity, innocence (or ‘foolishness’) and guilt, chastity and carnality, spiritual health and spiritual sickness, selfless compassionate suffering for others and suffering that indulges its torment in remorse and self-pity. Not that these contrasts are peripheral, or that their presentation is in any way muted. I have rather diagrammatically indicated their raw musical constituents; in the opera itself they are rendered with an immediacy that raises psychological excruciation to a pitch unlikely to be surpassed on this scale. But beyond this it is Wagner’s extraordinary achievement in Parsifal to show the oppositions that apparently make up his very subject matter to be deeply interfused and interdependent, utterly ambiguous, in the end not opposed after all. From this fusion at the centre, and the sonorous imagery that embodies it in music, spring story, character, music and meaning, reaching outwards to the work’s extremes of differentiation. The nucleus is more than a dynamic equilibrium of tensions; it is reconciliation and accord. On a straightforward level the apparent opposites begin to meet and mingle from the very start of Gurnemanz’s narration. These early stages of Act One, sometimes held to be monotonous even by those who admire Parsifal ‘once it gets going’, seem to me one of the summits of Wagner’s art (all the more so for being so little a set piece), unrolling with a casualness that conceals the utmost mastery all the prior events and all the thematic relationships that will be needed to follow action and music when they advance into the present. After the vast diatonic spaces evoked by the prelude and, when the curtain rises, the still more motionless morning prayer that seems to close the work before it has begun, comes the first intimation (as 35

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Gurnemanz falls into his narrative) of Amfortas and his never-ceasing pain [45], and a hint of the prophecy of the innocent fool who will heal it [54]. The first flicker of faster music, describing Kundry’s wild ride, is built out of her driving ostinato rhythm [5] and culminates in the piercing discord and plunging descent of her laughter [36]. This temporary momentum and volume collapse into soft stasis as in exhaustion she delivers the balsam to ease the man whose suffering she has caused. (So far, then, vast diatonic calm with little scuds and flurries of the disturbances to come.) Amfortas is borne in on his litter, and the earlier intimations of his music grow into a big slow paragraph combining the chromatic music of his pain-racked exhaustion with the pentatonic evocation of the waters that might quench it [40]. He takes further the hint of a prophesied deliverance, but it still remains incomplete and he equates its fulfilment with death. Enquiring as to the origin of the balsam he actually talks with Kundry, thus bringing his music of pain into proximity with her painful laughter as she spurns his thanks and hurries him off to temporary assuagement, for which the pentatonic strains take over again. (Does Amfortas know who she is and how he encounted her before? Gurnemanz obviously does not; and Kundry obviously does – her silent presence throughout this exposition, being who she is, having done what she has done, is a powerful part of its total effect.) The young squires talk ill of her as she lies on the ground like a troubled beast; Gurnemanz’s sober reproof uses only what of hers we have heard already, the driving rhythm and the laughter, to describe further her paradoxical impulses of humanity and hatred. Their querulousness subsides into questioning: by now a sufficient base of information has been unobtrusively divulged for him to embark on the almost casual reminiscences that their questions elicit. And only now, as he describes how Titurel found her in deathly sleep when the castle of the Grail was built, do we hear Kundry’s actual motif for the first time [4]. The narration alludes in passing to ‘jener Böse über den Bergen’ (‘that evildoer beyond the mountains’), neither naming him nor giving him his theme. Kundry’s contact with him is still as unknown to us as it will forever remain to Gurnemanz, which makes an unbearable irony when he addresses her directly, ‘wo schweiftest damals du umher / als unser Herr den Speer verlor?’ (‘Whereabouts were you roaming / when our master lost the Spear?’), 36

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to a full exposition of her theme, together with the chord and plunge of her laughter. First mention of the Spear and its loss signals a return to fragments of motif from the opening melody of the prelude. As the tale turns towards Amfortas and his fall the now completely familiar Kundry motif is much in evidence: listening, we make the connection that is painfully well-known to one person on stage – if not at the first time of hearing, then (with hindsight) at every subsequent one. x Gurnemanz’s description of the fatal far-distant kiss casts a long y look forward towards the kiss we will actually witness in Act Two, upon which the entire story dim.and music are centred. Both kisses are made with a powerful pun by which the upward semitone in Kundry’s motif is dwelt upon, intensified, and transformed into the motif from bars 2–3 of the opening melody: Kundry

deadlock

pun

opening melody motif

Fleshly pleasure audibly turns to fleshly anguish as, at the moment of delight, Klingsor (now named for the first time) seized the Spear from its neglectful guardian, pierced his side and escaped with it, laughing. The evil one’s name is dropped rapidly and in passing. The third etc. on for squire catches it and uses it ever, to prompt the old man into more story. or (opening melody) But here the present impingesinterrupted again; Amfortas’s litter bears him back thus:from lake to castle; as it passes off stage the music of sickness and healing is briefly encapsulated. Our interest, caught before because we 5ths saw Amfortas and because the music carried such a weight of unexplained suffering, is now heightened by the narrative’s interruption at such a point, even though we do not now see him. Gurnemanz, after asking how the king fares, falls into sad brooding over the past. But the third squire insists upon knowing about Klingsor. The answer is at first oblique, consisting instead of an account of something still further back, Titurel’s vision that led to the erection of the sanctuary to guard the sacred relics, Spear and Grail, and the foundation of the Knighthood of the Grail. This is set to an enormous paragraph interwoven à la Meistersinger with the Dresden Amen ([25] – which has hitherto always been separated from the musical flow and anyway has not been heard since the off-stage brass that extended the 37

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prelude beyond its ending into the stillness of the morning prayer, the opening melody and the chorale-like music that evokes the vision [14]. Only after this, the most continuous movement heard since the curtain rose, makes a full Amen-close, does Gurnemanz get round to answering. (We learn to enjoy the affection as well as the art which employs throughout the whole narration an old man’s dogged slowness that gets around to everything eventually, but in its own good time.) Now, as he tells fully the story of Klingsor, the moment has at last come to hear his motif [7]. We learn of his longing to achieve holiness; how it was denied him because he could not deaden his lusts; his drastic self-mutilation that gained mastery over magical powers able to win what his failed sanctity never could, lordship of the relics; of the perfumed garden of earthly delights (again a vignette of forepleasure that will blossom for us in full actuality as an intermezzo on the journey towards the kiss that has been already anticipated); of Amfortas’s expedition, armed with the Spear, to raze the evil place over the mountains. What there became of it and him has already been recounted; the narration peters out in gloomy inconclusion. But we are nearly up to date, and this (Gurnemanz continues) is how things stand: Klingsor holds the Spear and the means to seduce the guardian knights into gaining him the Grail too. (Kundry listens to all this mingling of sacred and profane in a writhing fury of agitation.) The deadlock is illustrated with a full exposure of Klingsor’s motif. But a gleam of hope survives in another vision, vouchsafed to the guilty lord himself, and built upon the ‘Amen’, at first in tortuous chromatic distortions that clarify into complete diatonic purity for the return of the opening melody (major mode) with a beautiful enharmonic change on its climatic note. The prophecy of the chaste fool made wise by pity, twice hinted at, is now repeated by Gurnemanz with its hitherto unheard second half [54] – which only comes in one other place, at the end of Amfortas’s monologue just before the Grail is revealed and the sacraments consecrated. Its already-known first half is taken up by the four squires; the pregnant stillness is interrupted by cries of outrage, the flight of the wounded swan and the precipitate entry of the prophecy’s unlikely embodiment, not named for a long time yet and not recognized for far longer, though his motif rings out brave and clear. And so the action of the opera begins. 38

x

y

experiencing music and imagery in parsifal dim.

This remarkable exposition has presented the work’s opposite musical poles in subtle alternation and shown them to be, at least, highly interdependent. But the nucleus where opposites are fused melody deadlock puncomes openingin has Kundry still not been reached. It the motif extraordinary sound that summons up Parsifal to anyone who has ever heard it, as surely as Tristan is summoned up by its opening bars – the work’s central sonorous image as heard thrice in the transformation music that shifts the scene from forest exterior to the interior of the sanctuary:

etc.

on for ever, or interrupted thus:

(opening melody)

5ths

This music is not even thematic, let alone leitmotivic. It comes as a slab of orchestral texture, of processional movement, of harmonic suspension, that puts the bowels into heat. Or, technically speaking, it is simply a segment of sequence, indefinitely extensible and indestructible and useful – musical material in the abstract, like something baroque.2 It is baroque also in its Affekt – a conventional icon of weeping and sighing, weighed down with grief, thrust against a mighty bass that bears its load gladly and if not checked will pound on forever round the cycle of fifths. Together these two functions produce the central sonorous image of Parsifal: the baroque Affekt that burns expression into sound, making a symbol actual, that then gathers up ever more resonance by altered contexts and further associations until it achieves a satiety of expressive utterance. The baroque usefulness of this sturdy material that can do anything and go anywhere provides a norm of continuity and cadence that can be extended all the way from local frisson to large-scale structure. The combination is powerful enough to carry the complex and contradict­ory meaning of the whole work. 2 Compare two places in Contrapuntus XI from The Art of Fugue where, known to Wagner or not, Bach hit upon the same sonority – bars 118–19 and more particularly 142–45.

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Kundry

pun

opening melody motif

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x

y

Here is how this overwhelmingly plangent final result grows, via dim. a few hypothetical intervening stages, from the opening melody. Its minor version (see p. 32) placed a new emphasis on the penultimate bar – it is sharper in rhythm and more dynamic in volume, being turned towards a second etc. climax on the low B natural rather than on for motif It is this penultimate deadlock pun ever, opening melody the dying away of the major-mode version. Kundry or (opening melody) bar that contains the seed of the sound that surfaces in the transinterrupted thus:formation music. The major version, in A flat, ended on its third, C; the chromatic version, in C minor, ends on its tonic, C; the sense 5ths implicit even in this unharmonized line that the last bar might, after all, cadence into A flat etc.

on for ever, or interrupted thus:

(opening melody)

is the kernel. This coloration of an interrupted cadence where both bass and third 5ths move up a semitone to resolve, but not together, making a rich major-minor poignancy, becomes the norm of resolution for the whole work. It has already been fully discovered in the closing stages of the prelude, where a series of sequences grows from the expiring end of the opening melody in a pattern whose prototype might be

etc.

Three possible stages in its growth towards full complexity might be (i)

(ii)

(iii)

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– though of course there is nothing so formulaic as these, and what Wagner actually does do towards the close of the prelude, and then in the earlier stages of the transformation music before this material reveals its full power, is worth looking at with these crude prototypes in mind. The surest way to give meaning to this music that works above all by intense unspecificness is to take it first at its most explicit and then follow it back and forward into the different contexts that extend its range. It breaks out with Amfortas’s words when, the company assembled, Titurel asks to see the Grail again before he dies. Guilt and suffering are the keywords here; at its next appearance Amfortas tells of the ‘Strafe ohnegleichen / des – ach! – gekränkten Gnadenreichen!’ (‘unparalleled punishment / of – ah! – the wronged Lord of mercy’); and at its next of the Spear, ‘der dort dem Erlöser die Wunde stach/ aus der mit blut’gen Tränen / der Göttliche weint ob der Menschheit Schmach’ (‘which pierced the Saviour / from whose wound the Holy One / wept tears of blood for man’s disgrace’). This sound can thus conflate Amfortas’s pain-racked guilt with Christ’s guiltless agony. That it is not just private to Amfortas we have already heard when the knights’ procession used the same music in turning from solemn festive diatonicism over the bells’ ostinato, to allude to the Redeemer’s blood-sacrifice for sinful mankind. This in turn is a mere echo of its huge use in the triple climax of the transformation where sinful mankind en masse treads the same sequential steps weighed down with the same groaning burden. Later, as the Eucharist is celebrated despite Amfortas’s attempts to stop it (‘Wie hell grüßt uns heute der Herr!’ [How brightly Our Lord greets us today!’] – another instance of Wagner’s grandiose slow-motion irony), the sonorous image returns in a mystic shimmer as of sexuality transfigured into spirituality, which while still echoing its most intense and most visceral usages (all of them heard by Parsifal himself), takes us back to the final stages of the prelude (as the Communion itself had repeated its four-fold opening) where the sonority first grew into being. After the distribution of bread and wine the knights process diatonically from the hall, cleansed by the ceremony, leaving the disturbing music behind with Parsifal. Here it renders his puzzled incomprehension: Amfortas’s suffering, and everything it contains, is refracted through Parsifal’s ignorant and 41

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unconscious identification with it. When the sanctuary is empty save for the old man and the young fool, pure C major is reached, rudely interrupted by another use for the image, to accompany Parsifal’s wordless answer (he can only repeat the convulsive clutch of hand over heart that first seized him when hearing Amfortas cry for mercy) to Gurnemanz’s ill-humoured cross-examination. After Gurnemanz pushes him out as a goose the soft repetition of the prophecy tells us again that this is indeed the long-desired swan and the music resumes its celestial C major with chorus and bells, in which the interruption seems scarcely to have happened. From this catalogue of its occurrences in Act One we realize that the crucial sonorous image of Parsifal is quite different from its equivalent in Tristan. There it is the first, unforgettable music we hear, returning unmistakably at all the crucial places, and sublimely resolving at the end. In Parsifal the nucleus slowly comes into being; it has to be uncovered and found; though all-permeating, it can disappear for long stretches, and its eventual course is gradual assuagement and elimination rather than a grand final integration. In Act Two its increased versatility allows it to encompass and connect more and more meaning. It produces at the climax of the prelude an obscene parody of the Act One transformation for the comparable entry into Klingsor’s anti-Grail castle, showing his impotent mockery of holiness to be imbued with a suffering of its own. In another guise it accompanies Kundry’s ascent into wakefulness from the timeless void she inhabits when between two worlds; it accompanies her moan of ‘Sehnen’ (‘Yearning’) that Klingsor can only interpret sardonically. A little later she tells us, to the same strains, what it is she longs for – sleep, release, salvation. Her longing is already tinged with eroticism, for Klingsor has now galvanized her almost completely into her other role, at first unwilling, then avidly, pitifully compliant, as seductress. Far further on, after the seduction has failed, her explanation to her victim-victor of why she longs for sleep and release, the laughter at Christ on His Cross that condemns her to wander the earth’s surface down the centuries in crazed hilarity, is again set to the same musical image. And, of course, it permeates Parsifal’s outburst immediately after the kiss, realizing its full baroque potential in a modern re-creation of the ritornello, the one stable element in the astonishing melange of motifs that accompany his astonishing words (in bold where it is used). 42

experiencing music and imagery in parsifal

                                                                       

Amfortas! Die Wunde! Die Wunde! Sie brennt in meinem Herzen! O, Klage! Klage! Furchtbare Klage! Aus tiefstem Herzen schreit sie mir auf. Oh! Oh! Elender! Jammervollster! Die Wunde sah ich bluten: nun blutet sie in mir. Hier – hier! Nein! Nein! Nicht die Wunde ist es. Fließe ihr Blut in Strömen dahin! Hier! Hier, im Herzen der Brand! Das Sehnen, das furchtbare Sehnen, das alle Sinne mir fasst und zwingt! Oh! Qual der Liebe! Wie alles schauert, bebt und zuckt in sündigem Verlangen! Es starrt der Blick dumpf auf das Heilsgefäß: das heil’ge Blut erglüht: Erlösungswonne, göttlich mild, durchzittert weithin alle Seelen: nur hier, im Herzen, will die Qual nicht weichen. Des Heilands Klage da vernehm’ ich, die Klage – ach! die Klage um das entweihte Heiligtum: „Erlöse, rette mich aus schuldbefleckten Händen!” So rief die Gottesklage furchtbar laut mir in die Seele. Und ich – der Tor, der Feige, zu wilden Knabentaten floh ich hin! Erlöser! Heiland! Herr der Huld! Wie büß’ ich, Sünder, meine Schuld?3

3 See translation on pp. 195 and 197.

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In Act Three, fitting the trajectory of the work as a whole, this central musical image is distanced; though what is represented is still unassuaged, its recurrences seem to echo from a remote past. Its overlapping interrupted cadences are first heard again as the mysterious black-armoured knight approaches, and is given its most beautiful treatment of all when Gurnemanz eventually recognizes him and the Spear he carries; the descending major thirds follow at once as, at the height of the pious old man’s exaltation, Kundry is compelled to avert her gaze from what she recognizes all too poignantly. It thrice shadows the Good Friday meadows as a brief reminder of sin and suffering long ago. The pastoral episode first emerges from its decline after Kundry is baptized; it returns as Gurnemanz tells of the Cross that this day perpetually memorializes (she was there), then recedes as he tells of the purification of Nature effected by Christ’s sacrifice; and is heard again at the pastoral’s close, when Parsifal juxtaposes magic flowers of evil with natural flowers of good, chastely returns Kundry’s kiss and absolves her of her curse – a ghost of what had once been the most powerful noise in the opera, soon to be succeeded by sounds from the still remoter past, the Monsalvat bells stealing across the meadows, not heard since Act One. It remains ghost-like in Amfortas’s second monologue; after the huge impact of the second transformation music and the communal outcry against him, it barely flickers into life just before his first words of exhausted sorrow. It is heard for the last time as ‘durch Mitleid wissend, der Reine Tor’ (‘enlightened through compassion, the innocent fool’) touches the racked body of his predecessor and reunites Spear with Grail: ‘Der deine Wunde durfte schließen, / ihm seh ich heil’ges Blut entfließen / in Sehnsucht nach dem verwandten Quelle, / der dort fließt in des Grales Welle’ ( ‘This that could heal your wound / I see pouring with holy blood / yearning for that kindred fount / which flows and wells within the Grail’). So the central sonorous image in Parsifal is a sort of virus that contaminates everything it touches, sates itself and works its way out – more like a far more complex and loaded version of the Curse motif in the Ring than the progression in Tristan, whose goal is its integration into the work’s final cadence. And its use is so wideranging that what it eventually stands for would seem to be uncontainably contradictory. Its ubiquity and omni-purposefulness 44

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indicates more than the fusion of opposites; they show the fusion to express an experience of communal rather than individual import. The characters overlap; each is a version of the other, undergoing the same trial according to his or her lights. If the words and story are considered in isolation, this is explicit to the point of formula (which excites the pleasure of symbolists, allegorists and symmetry-lovers, and the disapproval of those who find such things manipulated and frigid). It is obvious that Klingsor is a spoilt Amfortas; that Klingsor’s self-willed abstention mirrors Parsifal’s involuntary temptation and restraint; that Parsifal relives Amfortas’s adventure but emerges unscathed; and that Kundry is the unchanging instrument of their various progresses. But, as always with Wagner, it is the musical realization of such symmetries that saves them from stiffness, making them not merely more intelligible and interesting, but flexible, significant and profound beyond the power of unaided words. This is why these four principal characters’ individuating motifs are less important than their interrelationship and common origin in the work’s opening theme. This is why the work’s central sonority, also growing out of the opening theme, impartially expresses them all, melting black/white, good/bad, diatonic/chromatic, into a fermenting elixir where truth resides, for all that the formal layout of the story itself, from the largest massing to the smallest details, is built around these stark polarities.4 The clearest indication that the principal characters overlap is the music of their main monologues. These are all fashioned from the same ingredients, and the identifying motifs, which in the Ring would be paramount, are scarcely present. To be sure, Amfortas’s Act One monologue begins aria-like with his motif in the orchestra, to which he then sings his first two lines of verse. But thereafter his own music is present in just two references, lasting four bars in all, to the augmented-triad motif that represented his pain as he was borne to the waters of the lake. The monologue is otherwise made of many contradictory motifs writhed together in desperate melange – the Amen and the opening melody, Kundry’s motif and Klingsor’s that grows out of it, the dissonance and plunging descent of her laughter, and 4 The best symmetrical chart of the opera is Wieland Wagner’s Parsifal Cross. See Appendix, pp. 252–53.

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the ubiquitous ritornello of the basic sonorous image. In Klingsor’s briefer passage of self-expression in the first scene of Act Two the first two lines are again sung to his own musical contour (though it is also Kundry’s) and the rest is the mixture as before: Amfortas’s augmented triad is used more here than by Amfortas himself, Kundry’s laughter is given the spitting orchestral sharpness unique to this scene, one Amen is well-aimed at a dissonant rather than consonant climax, and the whole is framed by the basic sonority. Parsifal’s outburst upon being kissed uses neither his motif nor the prophecy that pertains to him. The kiss itself begins as an exact replica (though more solemnly prepared, richly scored, and lingered over) of the kiss between Kundry and Amfortas already described by Gurnemanz in Act One. But it goes horribly wrong. The memory of Amfortas’s guilty agony comes between the youth and the woman; he clutches his heart as twice before and cries out the unforgotten name to an intensification of the unforgettable cry for mercy. Thereafter the music is a still wilder melange of exactly the same ingredients again, thrown together in a rush of free association that defies grammatical analysis even while it captures a psychological reaction with horrifying precision and the utmost intensity. At the end of Act One he had been dumbstruck and uncomprehending like a fool. Before, we had seen his first uncouth actions, his bashful gormlessness about his name and origins and his dangerous vulnerability over his mother. And we have followed almost every step in his action since, from the boyish love of wild adventure that has brought him to Klingsor’s castle and bloody encounter with Klingsor’s knights (described by their master from his ramparts), to amorous encounter with Klingsor’s Flower Maidens (as enjoyed in sight and sound on stage) and seduction above and below the belt by a Kundry now young, beautiful and calling him by the name his mother once used. As she kisses him all this experience fuses: Wagner’s power to yoke opposites in powerful symbiosis is never more daring than his hero’s substitution of a burning in his side after such build-up to a burning somewhere else. The conflation of sexual excitement kindled by Kundry with the guilty compunction she had aroused for his mother’s death produces a total identification with Amfortas and his torment. It is presented in an inextricable tangling of opposites – base and exalted, carnal and 46

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spiritual, painful and pleasurable5 – that fuse into one overwhelming meaning-fused sound. It is overwhelming also because we have been through it before and know its every element. All the music for the central characters’ crucial places is made from the same cluster of motifs. It is a game with three chances. By the time Parsifal’s turn comes round it is ours too. His version of the experience is incomparably more protracted and intensive than his predecessors’; it is indeed the main event of the opera. Every sign has indicated him to be the one who does not fail where the others failed, who breaks the pattern. But though he is clearly from the start the chosen one, he is not distinct and individual. As the music shows, he is a generality, a composite of his predecessors and a representative man, elected to carry our burden and undergo initiation into an understanding that connects high and low. * * * Parsifal the character may be of necessity something of an identikit or cut-out figure. Parsifal the opera is anything but; it is indeed quite unique. At its centre is an excruciatingly vivid exploration of the blackest and bloodiest places of carnal psychopathology and their intimate connection with every aspect of the personality. This is caught and expressed in the physical and psychological power of the work’s sonorous imagery, fusing its subject and meaning into the musical materials from which it is made. This red-hot central matter burns its way out of the work; assuaged and eventually rendered harmless, it completely disappears. And in doing so, it puts right old wrongs; the goal of the work is restoration, refreshment, revivification. So the Bühnenweihfestspiel is not so much an allegory of Everyman, or a Passion-play, as a rite of purification. It is presented as something of gigantic significance and elevation, absolutely not normal or realistic. No one could exactly call it a comedy – and there is certainly no double wedding in sight at the end, nor any intimation of generation even at Tamino-level (let alone Papageno!) – yet 5 Parsifal has not forgotten Amfortas’s words, nor their music, that he heard in Act One, ‘durchzückt von seligsten Genusses Schmerz’ (‘thrilled by the agony of ecstasy’) at the flow of sacred blood from Jesus’s side and the sullied blood from his own.

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the sense as the prophecy is fulfilled, the Spear touches the wound and rejoins the chalice, and the music settles down in A flat, is very much that of ‘happy ever after’. Perhaps the work is best understood as a super-charged fairy-tale. Klingsor, Amfortas and Parsifal – they are like the three wishes where only the third, restoring the status quo ante, gets it right; or the three sons, where only the youngest is wily (in this case dumb) enough to avoid his elders’ mistakes and win the girl (in this case Grail). This is not so silly as it sounds. Concentration upon the liturgical element and the perfervid language of guilt and redemption that has from the start provoked on the one hand such derision and on the other such misplaced religiosity, tends to direct the communal hero along a via dolorosa or at least a pilgrim’s progress. But a truer parallel is with Wagner’s previous hero Siegfried. It would be interesting and illuminating to open up the comparison between his pagan and his Christian paragons; for all the immense difference of context, manner, story and imagery, there is more in common between them than there is separation; and the principal adventure for both lies in their discovering who they are, and what they can do about it.

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Parsifal: Words and Music Carolyn Abbate ‘One of the most beautiful edifices in sound ever raised to the glory of music’: so Debussy paid homage to Parsifal in 1903.1 But if we pause to reflect on his words, we see that his praise is double-edged, and his adoration touched with ambiguity. ‘Edifice in sound’ evokes an architectural image of the score, an image of notes, melodic shape, harmony, all spun into some sonic edifice. At the same time, the phrase turns its back on another part of Parsifal, its dramatic and poetic existence as libretto. To be sure, this is a sanctioned slight. While few would deny the mastery Wagner displays in every bar of the score, many would prefer to forget the cloying Christian myth-making that permeates the dramatic conceit of the infelicities in the poem. Arnold Whittall has written of the opera as a ‘tonal work of art’ whose hallmark is a ‘resourceful’ manipulation of [musical] material to build satisfying, coherent structures’,2 musical structures that have nothing in particular to do with plot or characters. The idea that Wagner’s drama resides in his music, and in an abstract form-building interplay of motif and tonality, is deeply embedded in our histories of nineteenth- and twentieth-century music. We have refashioned Wagner in Beethoven’s image, as a composer of pure music. This image of Wagner is, of course, revealed to be illusion if we look closely at the connections between poetry and music in the Ring, or even in Tristan. Wagner’s musical imagination was frequently stimulated by words, and his music shaped by them. Parsifal may seem the most abstract or symphonic of Wagner’s scores because the orchestral preludes 1 Claude Debussy, Debussy on Music, trans. Richard Langham Smith (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1977), p. 167. 2 Arnold Whittall, ‘The Music’, in Lucy Beckett, Richard Wagner: Parsifal (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1982), p. 84.

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and interludes are given such tremendous prominence and temporal weight. But Wagner had not, in this last work, lost his lifelong fascination with musical metaphors. He brought to bear on Parsifal his accumulated experience as a composer of music for poetry and for the stage, from the leitmotivic games played in Das Rheingold, through the scene-structuring experiments of Die Walküre and Siegfried, to the harmonic symbolism of Tristan and the allegorical motivic transformations in Götterdämmerung. In this most concentrated and ‘abstract’ of Wagner’s scores, not only music but the union of music and language are treated with an intensity unmatched in any other work. * * * If the music of Parsifal is among Wagner’s most introverted, relying as it does upon the smaller gesture and the subtler transformation, the structure of the drama declares itself in less equivocal terms. The three acts form an arch, with the two set in Monsalvat flanking the central set in Klingsor’s domain. The similarities between Acts One and Three are self-evident. Each begins with a forest scene, in which Gurnemanz and Kundry are later joined by Parsifal; both acts are divided by a long passage of transformation music for the scene change to the Grail temple. In both, the choral ritual of the second scene is punctuated by a long solo passage for Amfortas. Yet there are parallels that extend across all three acts, and that are no less obvious. In each act there is a scene change, in each an extended choral passage. In each there is one solo or dialogue devised as a chief focus of musico-dramatic weight: Gurnemanz’s narrative in Act One, the Kundry-Parsifal dialogue in Act Two, and in Act Three the exchanges between Gurnemanz and Parsifal which culminate in the Good Friday music. By saying that these three solo/ dialogue passages are particularly important, we do not depreciate the two Grail scenes, awesome in every respect, or even suggest that the oddly static music of the Flower Maidens is negligible. But the choral scenes are, on the whole, more shut in upon themselves, musically self-sufficient. They are closely related to the orchestral preludes and interludes. This relationship is an abstract one; like the instrumental passages, the choral scenes have a stronger character as purely musical edifices. In the case of the two Grail scenes there is 50

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also a specific relationship, for they are large-scale transformations of music from the Act One prelude. The monologue/dialogue passages are, on the contrary, far more rhetorical. Here Wagner focuses on the poem, on the progress of the drama and upon the creation of musical allegories that will comment upon these verbal phenomena. In creating these allegories Wagner has passed far beyond the innocent and lexical leitmotifs of the Ring, that fairy-story world where certain themes are indeed literal musical signs for objects and characters. As in Tristan, most of the motifs in Parsifal have a less specific import; they refer only to extended families of images, and these only vaguely defined. Their multiple referential meanings tend to insinuate themselves into the listener’s perception, rather than to hammer on his intellect. For example, two well-known symbolic motifs in Parsifal – the Prophecy and Magic motifs [54] and [4] – are less simple-minded as musico-dramatic signs than mere labels might suggest. The Prophecy is first heard in a weak, unfocused form [42], as one of the knights refers ironically to Gurnemanz’s hope for Amfortas’s recovery, ‘Das wähnest du, der doch alles weiß?’ (You assume this, you who know all?’). A few moments later, the motif has become more sharply delineated, when Gurnemanz refers obliquely to ‘der Eine’ (‘the one’) who can bring salvation to Amfortas. When asked for a name, Gurnemanz turns his questioner aside; the motif is broken off in mid-phrase, and at the same time Kundry’s sudden appearance points the orchestral fabric in another direction entirely. In these few bars, however, the Prophecy motif [54] has been adumbrated and begins to coalesce, just as a first reference to ‘all’ that Gurnemanz knows – the accumulated histories he will later reveal – is narrowed down to a far more specific piece of knowledge, the still-untold story of the ‘reine Tor’ (‘innocent fool’). The third time it appears, this thematic scrap is still richer, and has been expanded; now it accompanies Amfortas’s broken quotation of the prophecy’s actual words:    

„Durch Mitleid wissend“ – war’s nicht so?

   

‘enlightened through compassion’ – was that not it? 51

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Just as Amfortas interrupts himself, so the motif’s musical unfolding is broken off. The motif will not be spun into its syntactically complete form until the end of Gurnemanz’s narrative, as he recounts in full Amfortas’s ‘heilig Traumgesicht’ (‘holy vision’). Parsifal’s precipitous entrance, hard upon the heels of Gurnemanz’s cadential peroration, at last suggests a real identity for the ‘innocent fool’. More than this, the similarity of Parsifal’s entrance to Kundry’s earlier entrance – both as if in answer to the riddle posed by the motif – is surely calculated as a comment on her status in the drama, for Amfortas’s salvation will depend upon them both, upon their confrontation in Act Two, and not upon Parsifal alone. The progressive realization of the Prophecy motif is both a musical and a musico-dramatic process. A barely defined fragment gradually becomes a full musical phrase, and its recurrences are like tiny nodal points that articulate long stretches of the act. At the same time, an unfocused reference to Gurnemanz’s memories evolves into his memory of a single fact: the true words of the prophecy. The case of the Magic motif [4] is far more complicated. The motif in its most familiar form is a chromatic variation of the pure, triadic Salvation motif [1a] from the Act One prelude. This sort of symbolic dualism was by no means new to Parsifal; it is ubiquitous in the Ring. But if we follow the musical evolution of [4], we find that its poetic associations are too rich to be subsumed under the single word, and seem as well to lie in another domain. The motif is prefigured as the merest fragment [43] when Kundry speaks the word ‘Arabia’: Gurnemanz   Woher brachtest du dies? Kundry   Von weiter her als du denken kannst.   Hilft der Balsam nicht,   Arabia birgt   dann nichts mehr zu seinem Heil. Gurnemanz   Whence have you bought this?

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Kundry   From farther away than you can imagine.   Should the balsam not help   then Arabia hides   nothing more to heal him. – Its next appearance, still as a fragment [43], is again tied to this single word, when Amfortas asks Gurnemanz where the ‘heimliche Gefäß’ (‘strange vessel’) of balsam has come from. Within Gurnemanz’s narrative, the motif [4] is extended to its fuller form for his description of Kundry’s first appearance in the Grail kingdom, and his story of Amfortas’s seduction: Schon nah’ dem Schloß wird uns der Held entrückt:   ein furchtbar schönes Weib hat ihn entzückt Hard by the keep our hero was drawn away:   a woman of fearsome beauty bewitched him In this fuller form, the motif will also accompany Kundry’s magic sleep, but it then disappears from Act One, not to recur until Act Two, at the moment the curtain parts to reveal Klingsor’s necromantic laboratory. The motif’s family of associations is thus a curious one; they congregate not only around the vague notion of ‘magic’, but around the idea of a place unknown, of terrain further away than Kundry says Gurnemanz ‘can imagine’ (‘Von weiter her, als du denken kannst’). At first this is represented by Arabia, the country to the east, barbarian and occult. Near Klingsor’s castle Amfortas is magically transported to a place inhabited by the ‘woman of fearsome beauty’; Kundry falls into a trance that will bring her from Monsalvat to Klingsor’s castle. When the curtain parts in Act Two, that locus is at last revealed to the eye: this is the place that Gurnemanz’s mind cannot imagine, the darkest scene in the entire opera, the landscape from which the world’s evil emanates. Wagner has, incidentally, so calculated the gradual evolution of the Magic motif [4] that our realization of its musical kinship with the Salvation motif [1a] (which dominates the end of Act One) should come with terrible irony as we first see Klingsor. 53

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The musical and dramatic unfolding of Act One may be seen – albeit whimsically – as reflecting on a broad scale the kind of musico-dramatic realization that we see on a small scale in these tiny motivic transformations. Gurnemanz’s narrative is a realization of the past. Histories, at first only known through allusions, will be revealed in stages that strike progressively deeper into their meaning. The initial action that leads up to the narrative is unusually swift for Wagner. Within a few moments Amfortas and his sickness have been mentioned, and Kundry has made her entrance. This opening is expository in character, for the chief thematic elements are introduced in a straightforward manner (for instance, Kundry’s characteristic accompanimental figure [5]) and cut off almost brusquely, without lingering over their potential for development. In the scene of Amfortas’s first appearance, Wagner begins to move towards a more structured kind of musical web: Amfortas’s characteristic theme is reiterated through this scene as a refrain, though one both tentative and weak, prone to interruption by other musical elements. So far, then, Wagner sets up the plot and introduces the characters, and lays out a palette of musical elements that will be used in the course of the act. This entire exposition prepares for the narrative, which will both clarify the histories presented by allusion and develop musical material presented previously in bald and unelaborated forms. Gurnemanz exposes the past but he will also – sometimes unwittingly – reveal both its secret meaning and his own reactions to it through his ordering of its events. Five stories are told: Kundry; Amfortas and the loss of the Spear; Titurel and the Grail; Klingsor; Amfortas’s prophetic vision of his saviour.3 The stories do not simply pass chronologically from furthest to most recent past; rather, they generate a temporal circle that will constantly and inevitably turn back to a single event. This event is Klingsor’s wounding of Amfortas, a moment laden with mystic significance. The narrative is initiated when Gurnemanz defends Kundry against the taunts of the squires by describing her recent deeds helping the knights of the Grail, ‘Wann alles ratlos steht’ (‘When you all stood perplexed’). This brief apologia is cast musically as a concise Lied; it begins and ends 3 Some commentators locate the beginning of Gurnemanz’s narrative at the story of Titurel. This seems perverse, for it passes over the Spear narrative, and ignores the musical link between all five stories.

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unequivocally in E minor, closed upon itself in a single key. So far Gurnemanz is a neutral narrator, certain of his story and detached from it. The passage’s cool musical formality seems to admit no doubts. But Gurnemanz shifts from summarizing Kundry’s current exemplary behaviour to uneasier speculation about her past, and at the same time citations from symbolic motifs ripple the music’s surface. For instance, the Prophecy motif [54] in an unrealized version is called up to accompany the line ‘Übt sie nun Buß’ in solchen Taten, / die uns Ritterschaft zum Heil geraten’ (Now she makes atonement by such deeds / as benefit our knightly order’). Again this rhetorical citation of the motif suggests Kundry’s oblique part in Amfortas’s salvation. As Gurnemanz sinks deeper and deeper into contemplation of Kundry, he recalls that she was absent once when a great disaster befell the knights; here he comes dangerously close to a memory of the Spear but evades it, and instead retreats further into Kundry’s past history, and how Titurel found her long ago in the wood. Now, for the first time in the act, the Magic motif [4] is spun out, developing into a continuous accompaniment for Gurnemanz’s words. This motivic motor builds in intensity as Gurnemanz himself becomes more agitated, and the Kundry narrative culminates in his angry demand:      

He! Du! Hör mich und sag: wo schweiftest damals du umher, als unser Herr den Speer verlor?

     

Ho, you! Listen and say: whereabouts were you roaming when our master lost the Spear?

In a brilliant stroke, Wagner sets the first three syllables of this text to a three-note turn, D flat–E flat–D flat. This is a germinal musical cell from which the main motif for the next story will spring [1e]: the narrative of the Spear. Gurnemanz has now, at last, been led to his memory of it. The three-note turn and the motif which falls out of it so dominate this second history that all the musical substance of this narrative seems to be drawn progressively into its orbit. We even begin to hear the melodic turn at the apex of [4] as a variant 55

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of it; the turn is also used to set Gurnemanz’s anguished cry, ‘der Speer ist ihm entsunken’ (‘letting fall the Spear’) [1e]. This briefest of stories is also the most concentrated in its motivic focus. As if to defuse that intensity, Wagner interrupts the narrative with the entry of two squires from Amfortas’s train. This brings time back to the present, while a corresponding reference to Amfortas’s descending motif [45] recalls the last music we heard in that present, before Gurnemanz began his tales. But the interruption is in turn interrupted, when Gurnemanz in an aside mutters his last words in the Spear narrative, ‘Die Wunde ist’s, die nie sich schließen will’ (‘this wound it is which never will heal’). The accompanying musical reminiscence [45] serves to eradicate the effect of Amfortas’s interloping refrain, thus turning us back to the narrative mode, and to the past. Though the squires have questioned Gurnemanz about Klingsor, he answers evasively with a story about Titurel and the Grail. This third story involves the first large-scale recapitulation in the act, for Wagner here adapts and transforms the sonic fabric of the prelude, interleaving its serene, triadic material with the inexorable three-note turn of the Spear narrative, which resonates in an echo of its former musical force. Just as the Magic motif [4] – the chief thematic element for the Kundry narrative – was embedded as a leitmotivic citation in the Spear narrative, ‘Ein furchtbar schönes Weib’ (‘a woman of fearsome beauty’), so the three-note turn [1c &d] is developed symphonically in the Spear narrative and quoted symbolically in the Grail narrative as Gurnemanz describes Christ’s wound and the Grail ‘darein am Kreuz sein göttlich Blut auch floß (‘in which His divine blood flowed from the Cross’).Wagner has devised a pattern of musical links that serve one purpose in binding together the separate musical ‘stories’, but also serve a subtextual, poetic purpose. The Grail narrative ends with one of the strongest cadences so far heard in Act One, a triumphant orchestral crescendo spun from the Grail motif [25] to a full stop on an F sharp major triad. The last musical word appears, for the moment, to have been said. This entire narrative has, however, been an evasion, as Gurnemanz struggled to avoid his memory of Klingsor. It is a memory he cannot escape, and the luminous F sharp major triad collapses into a single low F sharp in the basses and brass. With this sound, Wagner sweeps away all previous musical substance; the recollection of the Act One prelude 56

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disintegrates. Above the single F sharp, Gurnemanz begins the Klingsor narrative, a musical arch whose outer sections are generated from [7], the motif specially associated with Klingsor, a motif distantly related to the Magic figure [4]. This arch is, however, unbalanced and awry. Its opening and middle sections are straightforward enough. Gurnemanz begins in good chronological order by describing Klingsor’s more distant past, how he was attracted to the fellowship of the Grail, his sin of self-castration, and his subsequent exile from the fellowship. The description of Klingsor’s flowering desert is set to deliberately contrasting musical material, an anticipation of the Flower Maidens’ chorus in Act Two; this is the centre of the arch. A momentary return of [7] at ‘Schon viele hat er uns verdorben’ (‘full many of us has he ruined’) would seem to signal a balancing return of the whole opening unit. But Gurnemanz’s survey of time has once again circled back to its most perilous moment, to his memory of the Spear and Amfortas’s wound. The imminent approach of that moment breaks the symmetry of the musical arch, and Gurnemanz must also break off: ‘Das wisst ihr, wie es dort sich fand: / Der Speer ist nun in Klingsors Hand’ (‘You know what happened there; the Spear is now in Klingsor’s hand’). So the Klingsor narrative crumbles at its close to a swift succession of leitmotivic quotations, closed off by a last, faded repetition of [7]. The final story describes Amfortas’s vision and culminates in the statement of [54], the Prophecy motif. Parsifal’s serio-comic entrance interrupts and terminates the narrative, and subsequently dramatic events deal with other musical matters. The entire Amfortas narrative is in itself, however, part of a far-ranging process of anticipation and realization. Like the Grail narrative, it derives much of its musical substance from the motifs of the Act One prelude. Where the Grail narrative transformed the prelude in recapitulating it, this narrative cites its music more closely. Most significantly, the Amfortas narrative returns momentarily to the A flat tonal colour of the prelude. In the choruses of the Grail scene the Act One prelude re-emerges both as a confirmed tonality (A flat) and as an ‘edifice in sound’, for the Grail scene, like the prelude, is endowed with a purely musical coherence which works on a broad scale. The scene is drawn together by sustained thematic development, periodic rhythmic phrasing, deliberate formal symmetries and a relatively straightforward harmonic 57

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vocabulary. The forest scene is, as a whole, far more discursive; its musical units are conceived on a much smaller scale and are often simply juxtaposed with one another; its harmonic language is more ambiguous. Not surprisingly, the only profound musical interruption in the Grail scene is Titurel’s eerie speech and Amfortas’s long reply, an aria whose music looks back to the Spear narrative and to the transformation music, and which in turn foreshadows the musicodramatic core of the second Act: the aftermath of Kundry’s kiss. Act Two opens with the only scene given over to Klingsor himself. His musical identity and his mythic status have both been established in Gurnemanz’s narrative. That musical presence has both a fixed tonal colour (B minor) and a motivic component. Wagner’s choice of B minor to represent Klingsor’s realm was far from casual. The eighteenth and nineteenth centuries had endowed this key with a peculiar Affekt; for Beethoven it was the ‘schwarze Tonart’, the black tonality. Associations with magic, the supernatural and the malign were a strong part of its character. Within Wagner’s works it would be used as an iconic key for the Dutchman and Hagen; it is also the tonal colour given to Alberich’s curse. Indeed, it is possible to see Berg’s ‘Invention’ on the pitch B natural for the murder scene in Wozzeck as a last reverberation of this tradition, and a self-conscious act of homage to its earlier representatives. The key of B minor was evoked momentarily in Gurnemanz’s Klingsor narrative, as a single node in a shifting, wandering harmonic design. Now in Klingsor’s scene, B minor is given far greater weight as the tonic key for the entire passage, a stable centre to which all harmonic digressions will return. The symbolic key has taken on a true musical function as controlling gravitational force. There are other ways in which the Klingsor scene is an extension of the Klingsor narrative. Both the narrative and the scene are musical arches whose framing outer sections are generated from repetitions and variations of [7], the Klingsor motif. The narrative’s musical arch was asymmetric, for its final section is summarized by a mere fragment of the Klingsor motif [4]. The baroque shape of this narrative microcosm at first appears to be duplicated in the larger world of the scene. A seeming recapitulation of the initial orchestral web begins at Klingsor’s ‘Ungebändigten Sehnens Pein’ (‘The pain of untamed desire’) but this recapitulation is quickly interrupted and abandoned, 58

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as if Klingsor cannot bear to confront his memory or sustain the musical mood. Yet this passage is only a false recapitulation; it is, significantly, not in B minor, and so has the motivic content of the opening without its symbolic tonality. Klingsor quickly recovers his self-possession, taunts Kundry, hears Parsifal’s distant approach; his description of Parsifal’s battle generates a passage of orchestral Inszenierungsmusik dramaturgically akin to that for Kurwenal’s description of the ship in Tristan Act Three. Upon the dissolution of this scene-setting interlude, Klingsor is again left alone on stage. With a few bleak comments he re-establishes the verbal style of the scene’s opening. At the same time, Wagner has shrunk the musical fabric into recitative, returning to the spare declamatory texture associated with Klingsor’s initial words, ‘Die Zeit is da’ (‘The time has come’). The true recapitulation, the completion of the arch, comes only at Klingsor’s last line, ‘bleibst mir du zugewiesen’ [‘you will remain my slave’]. This orchestral recapitulation will be transformed into transition as the set changes to the magic garden, and a gesture of musical closure mutates into an introductory flourish for the new scene. The Flower Maidens are in a perverse way musically analogues to the Grail Knights. Both are choral groups whose music is tonally focused (hovering around A flat major) and rhythmically consistent, though the narcotic barcarolle rhythms of the Flower Maidens are wholly unlike the march figures of the knights. Of course, the Flower Maidens’ musical presence is not literally related to that of the knights; rather, the two groups share these general musical characteristics. Their common tonal identity (A flat) obviously has no simple-minded symbolic import; it hardly means that Wagner wished to make some mysterious connection between the two groups. Yet the shared tonal focus does have a strictly musical consequence; it creates a vast tonal arch which spans the break between the acts and sets off by contrast the ‘schwarze Tonart’ of the Klingsor scene. Indeed, we can sense an even larger and vaguer structural palindrome lying behind this one. The Klingsor scene lies at its centre, the choruses flank the centre on either side, and at the outer reaches are Gurnemanz’s narrative and the Kundry-Parsifal scene, both long and discursive, both revelations of the past. Such symmetries are not merely specious contrivances which we impose 59

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on Wagner’s score. Wagner was, to be sure, no foolishly consistent structuralist. But his control of shape over long expanses of time was one of his great strengths as a dramatist. And surely when Kundry begins her ‘Herzeleide’ narrative we are meant to sense a tenuous link between the present situation and the last time we heard the telling of tales. The Kundry–Parsifal scene is remarkable not for any real interaction between the characters, but for Parsifal’s metamorphosis. Although Kundry is hardly negligible in this process, she is strangely neutral. Her role is to impart knowledge, thereby enabling Parsifal to achieve a transformation she could not foresee, into a mythic hero she cannot control. The peculiar neutrality of her dramatic status has certain consequences for much of her music, which is often self-contained in a way that Parsifal’s is not. That is to say, her music forges fewer links backwards or forwards to the remainder of the score. At least at first, she presents Parsifal with detached and self-sufficient musical statements, to which he must react. But if some of her music is conventional, her entrance is most striking: she calls ‘Parsifal’ (the first statement of his name) to a falling three-note figure which becomes a critical thematic element elsewhere in the score, and which is derived from the Prophecy motif [54x]. This figure outlines the triad of B minor, set within a harmonic context that turns the sustained (and by now somewhat tedious) A flat of the Flower Maidens to a wholly new tonal direction, towards G major, the key of the ‘Herzeleide’ narrative. Kundry, like Gurnemanz, is a narrator but she uses story-telling in quite different ways. He explores and reacts to his own memories while imparting information to his listeners; she tells a story to elicit emotional responses from Parsifal, believing this will facilitate her seduction. Gurnemanz’s narrative passes through many stories; each has a unique musical character and motivic presence, and within each there are frequent rhetorical outbursts and unconnected musical juxtapositions. Gurnemanz’s idiom is rich and wonderfully unbalanced. Kundry’s Herzeleide narrative is almost banal in its formality. Monothematic, seldom departing from the rhythmic patterns established in its first bars, it is in effect a proper aria, based on [58], the Herzeleide motif. It falls into clearly articulated blocks, beginning with two parallel verses, ‘Ich sah das Kind an seiner Mutter Brust’ (‘I 60

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saw the child on its mother’s breast’) and ‘Gebettet sanft auf weichen Moosen’ (‘the babe cradled gently on soft moss’), with a tonally contrasted strophe, ‘Nur Weinen war sie’ (‘She was all mourning’). This third verse in turn builds into sequential repetitions of [58] as Kundry descends into pathos, ‘Nur Sorgen war sie, ach! und Bangen’ (‘She was all concern and foreboding’); this musical intensification and acceleration culminates with her rhetorical question ‘ward dir es wohl gar beim Küssen bang?’ (did you perhaps fear her kisses?’). The final section, ‘Doch ihr Wehe du nicht vernahmst’ (‘But you did not consider her woe’), is a musical coda that varies [58] as part of an ostinato figure, and which concludes, rather primly, with a return of the opening [58], the original Herzeleide motif, and the original key, G major. Wagner is playing here with the implications of formality and coherence and, so long as Kundry is in control of the confrontation, she will retain this musical propriety. Thus the complete closure at the end of the narrative shuts it in upon itself; Kundry has made her first move with a perfectly fashioned musical statement. Wagner’s depiction of Parsifal’s reaction begins with a critical musical symbol, as Parsifal cries ‘Wehe! Wehe! Was tat ich?’ (‘Woe is me! Alas! What have I done?’). His words indicate that he mourns his mother’s death. But the vocal line [41] is Amfortas’s, an almost literal quotation from the wounded knight’s despair at Titurel’s ‘Muß ich sterben, vom Retter ungeleitet?’ (‘Must I die without my Saviour’s guidance?’) in Act One. This momentary musical association of Parsifal with Amfortas prefigures the entire dramatic course of the scene, for Kundry’s kiss will set off Parsifal’s transformation, his emphatic identification with Amfortas. Here Kundry fails to comprehend the meaning of the musical sign. She continues to play on Parsifal’s capacity for pity and sorrow, thereby creating a being she will find impossible to overcome. The musical gnomon is repeated a few bars later. Parsifal mutters obsessively ‘Die Mutter, die Mutter konnt’ ich vergessen’ (‘How could I forget my mother – my mother!’), and another fragment of Amfortas’s aria materializes in the orchestra. This time, Parsifal literally seems to hear the musical symbol, for he suddenly asks ‘Ha! Was alles vergaß ich wohl noch?’ (‘Ah, what else have I forgotten?’) – just missing his own memory of Amfortas. Kundry’s reply, ‘Bekenntnis / wird Schuld in Reue enden’ (‘Confession / will end guilt in remorse’), is calculated – she believes 61

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– to convert Parsifal’s new vulnerability into passion; both motivically and tonally she takes up a new musical argument, one conducted as a dialogue between the chromatic arpeggios of the Magic motif and the precipitous descending flourish that is part of her own unique musical character [36]. At the moment of the kiss this musical dialogue ends with a long upward extension of the Magic motif [4], whose final two notes (E sharp–F sharp) are slowly re-interpreted; they become the three-note turn (F–G flat– F) that spins into [1e], the Wound motif (F–G flat–F–B flat–C–D flat). This is a metamorphosis that functions as a sonic analogue for the ‘furchtbare Veränderung’ (‘fearful change’) that passes over Parsifal’s features. What follows is a passage that constitutes the opera’s musical and dramatic heart [41, 36]. For Parsifal’s revelation Wagner recalls the music of the climax of Amfortas’s aria, his last despairing cry for mercy [34a & b]. It is an extraordinary moment. Parsifal literally becomes Amfortas, taking on the wounded king’s musical identity as he does the terrible burden of Amfortas’s suffering. This exact quotation from the aria is like the turning of a musical key that sets Parsifal’s memory free. His subsequent monologue is both a recapitulation and a transform­ ation of the aria. The basic sequence of musical events is the same in both monologue and aria but in Parsifal’s hands the aria is converted into something musically richer and more exhaustive. Parsifal remembers what he once heard as a mere observer, and he lays over it a new palimpsest, a musical reinterpretation he can make because he is now both the observer and the one who is observed. Thus the ‘recapitulation’ of the aria’s music is not just a far-reaching musical link between one act and another, but a brilliant musico-dramatic allegory. When Parsifal breaks his trance, ‘So rief die Gottesklage / furchtbar laut mir in die Seele. / Und ich – der Tor, der Feige, / zu wilden Knabentaten floh ich hin!’ (‘Thus rang the divine lament / in terrible clarity in my soul. / And I fool, coward, / fled hither to wild childish deeds!’), he loses his double vision, and the two musical entities – the remembered aria and the reinterpretation – become one, the remembered aria alone. For Parsifal’s final words, ‘ Erlöser! Heiland! Herr der Huld! / Wie büß’ ich, Sünder, meine Schuld?’ (Redeemer! Saviour! Lord of grace! / How can I, a sinner, purge my 62

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guilt?), Wagner simply adopts the aria’s cadence, Amfortas’s ‘Nimm mir mein Erbe, / schließe die Wunde’ (‘Take away my inheritance, / heal my wound’). Parsifal’s visionary identification with Amfortas anticipates their actual exchange of roles at the end of the opera, when Parsifal will take over Amfortas’s office and receive his kingship. All that follows Parsifal’s vision must be faintly anticlimactic. Even Kundry’s own conversion to supplicant, even the bleak, expressive recitative Wagner invents for her description of the Crucifixion, cannot approach the intensity, the layering of musical recollection, that characterizes the visionary interlude. Indeed, once Parsifal returns from his vision to present time and place, we seem to return to a more operatic world, and frequent echoes of Tannhäuser and Venus are faint but unmistakable. For the remainder of the scene Wagner devised a gradual musical accelerando typical of certain duet scenes in the Ring (notably the Todesverkündigung [Annunciation of Death] in Act Two of Die Walküre). The exchanges between the characters become briefer and briefer; there is a modulation of tempo from moderate to fast. Most importantly, the main thematic material from the earlier parts of the dialogue [54, 4, 34] will be stripped of its character and dissolved into a kind of frenetic orchestral wallpaper. Kundry’s tale of her search for Christ , ‘Nun such ich ihn’ (‘Now I seek Him’), is sung to an accelerated and rhythmically denatured version of the slow chromatic line from [3x]; at the same time a rhythmic variant of that motif provides the orchestral background. In the latter part of the scene, Kundry tends to convert a number of motifs into emphatic spondaic rhythms. This is not mere effect. As we shall see, Wagner is preparing, well within Act Two, one of the omnipresent sounds in Act Three – the grave, tolling rhythm that we hear from the first moments of its prelude [47]. As the acceleration in the scene reaches its peak, Wagner begins to make final gestures of closure by recalling music from the act’s beginnings. An accelerated version of the Flower Maidens’ music [63] accompanies Kundry’s ‘So war es mein Kuß’ (‘Was it my kiss’), followed a few bars later by [57], the E flat fanfare that had announced Parsifal’s entrance, and finally [5], the Curse music from the Klingsor scene. These brief musical citations are patently purely musical flourishes, used in the service of a vague motivic summing-up at the act’s end; they do not occur as rhetorical responses to the poem. 63

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Nonetheless they do have a dramatic effect. With these three quotations, we are, so to speak, pushed backwards through the act, from the Flower Maidens, through Parsifal’s arrival, to the Klingsor scene. When Klingsor himself makes his final appearance, he has in a curious way been called up by this thematic retrogression; we have been led back to him. He will in this scene continue to resonate through the music of Act Two, even after Parsifal has vanquished him, for Act Two will end where it began: in the ‘schwarze Tonart’ of B minor. We have seen Wagner’s musico-dramatic arches operating on many levels but the largest of them is the arch formed by the entire opera, through the parallelism of Act One and Three. Yet all the events shared by these two outer acts take on new guises in Act Three; the world has been altered by Klingsor’s defeat. The re-enactment of the Grail ritual now begins as a funeral march; Amfortas’s prayer – punctuating this second Grail scene as his aria had punctuated the first – is a wish not for salvation but for death. Both individuals and landscapes have changed; Gurnemanz is ‘zum hohen Greise gealtert’ (‘now a very old man’), and Parsifal must ask, ‘Oder irr’ ich wieder? / Verändert dünkt mich alles’ (‘Or do I still err? / Everything seems changed). Act Three is saturated by a sense of disorientation, of the disquiet that comes of being lost in a familiar place. One way in which Wagner underlines the dramatic parallels between the acts is by engineering broadly conceived musical parallels. He underlines the profound changes in the opera’s dramatic universe, however, with extensive alternations in Act Three’s recollections of Act One. The mutation of Parsifal’s motif for his Act Three entrance is only the clearest instance. The triadic fanfare [57], reminiscent of Siegfried, that announces his entry in Act One (and in Act Two), becomes muffled and uncertain in Act Three, ambiguous in its harmonic implications where before it was plain-spoken. The march for the Grail Knights in Act One, ‘Zum letzten Liebesmahle’ (‘At this latest Love Feast’), is straightforward in its melodic character and simple in its tonal language, beginning and ending in unclouded C major. The parallel funeral march in Act Three, ‘Geleiten wir im bergenden Schrein’ (‘We carry in its sheltering shrine’), is dissonant, its melodic phrasing turned askew. This march glides perilously close to atonality, as does the nightmarish choral passage later sung by the knights as they press in upon Amfortas, ‘Enthüllet den Gral!’ (‘Uncover the 64

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Grail!’) [30, 43]. Thus in Act Three the apotheosis – Parsifal’s healing of Amfortas, his ascent to the altar, the choral epilogue – comes as the greatest possible musical contrast, a recovery of the Act One prelude and its serene musical language in the face of nascent tonal dissolution. Act Three is by far the most symphonic act, in the sense that long stretches in it are either adaptations of the instrumental preludes or varied recapitulations of music from other acts. The Good Friday music is, of course, literally symphonic. So compelling is its ‘purely musical’ logic that Wagner could detach it from the opera and deprive it of its words (if not of its dramatic associations) without making it nonsensical. Much could be written of the tremendous motivic and harmonic riches in any of these ‘symphonic’ passages; their musical meaning seems inexhaustible. The ‘symphonic’ quality of Act Three befits the reflective nature of its drama, for Act Three is simply the denouement, a long and slow-paced diffusion of tension. Everything that happens in it has been inevitable from the moment Parsifal won the Spear. It is an act of tableaux and rituals, such as the baptism or the Grail ritual; both involve extended borrowings from the Act One prelude. At such times, as during the Good Friday music, words themselves are treated as superfluous. These sustained musical edifices may be au fond symbolic in their ‘purely musical’ unities, associated as they are with points of stasis, meditation, ritual and resolution. Only in the brief pantomime for Gurnemanz and Kundry, and in the Parsifal–Gurnemanz exchanges, does Wagner compose for Act Three a musical idiom that reacts directly and consistently to the words it accompanies. Even here, as we shall see, the world has changed. The passage depicting Parsifal’s arrival and his mimed gestures in response to Gurnemanz are one instance of Act Three’s more rhetorical idiom. As Gurnemanz celebrates Kundry’s recovery on the ‘Tag der Gnade ohne gleichen’ (‘day of mercy beyond compare’), the triadic Salvation motif is extended into a brief six-bar orchestral passage, the first anticipation of the Good Friday music. The orchestral comment breaks off suddenly as Gurnemanz sees a figure approaching. For Parsifal’s appearance, Wagner sets up a compound musical gesture that combines Parsifal’s new, transformed ‘fanfare’ with a chromatic line ending on a falling figure B flat–E natural. This falling B flat–E 65

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natural is a cell from the first bars of the Act Three prelude [47]. By referring to two notes from the prelude at this point, Wagner anticipates the fuller recollection of the prelude for Parsifal’s first speech and Gurnemanz’s reply to it. What is astounding about the figure here is that we do understand these isolated two notes as an echo of the prelude; Wagner has forced us to hear a motivic connection that resides in the tiniest of fragments. This falling B flat–E natural is repeated over and over as Gurnemanz questions Parsifal and, for the moment, it serves as an inexorable cadential turn at which all music seems to end. This motivic fragment is part of a musical dynamic which bridges the disparate, contrasting passages in the subsequent Parsifal–Gurnemanz dialogue (Parsifal’s narrative of his quest and Gurnemanz’s description of the recent history of the Grail). Both these speeches centre upon musical material from the Act Three prelude; Parsifal’s is a development of the rising figure derived from [5], Kundry’s ‘Curse’ motif. Gurnemanz’s speech, however, takes up the rising and falling two-note cells of the prelude’s first bars [1c, d]. Thus Gurnemanz makes a musical-mnemonic connection not only to the prelude itself, but to the enigmatic two-note cell that had clung so tenaciously to Parsifal’s entrance. As his monologue reaches its peroration, the figure is broken down into accompaniment [49]. Here we begin to realize that a more far-reaching musical resonance is at work; this is the spondaic figure of Kundry’s final, angry speeches in Act Two. At the same moment, Wagner gives a last turn to his motivic kaleidoscope. The spondaic figure passes into the bass to become the sound of four tolling bells from the Act One transformation music, at once a memory of the past and a hint of what is to come. Wagner’s final move in the game comes during the pantomime music, as Kundry runs to fetch water for Parsifal. The motivic flourish is given once again in the form associated with Kundry in Act Two [31], and then immediately as the music of the bells [30]. So Wagner summarizes in a single instant the entire time span of this series of transformations: from the conclusion of Act Two to the final scene of Act Three. When we stop to consider it, we see that the process here at work is not unlike the dynamic of anticipation and realization in Act One, the process that generated the Prophecy motif [54]. But there 66

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is a critical difference, one that needs to be stressed as a concluding irony to our consideration of words and music in Parsifal. In Act One, as we saw, the gradual ‘realization’ of the Prophecy motif had a poetic meaning. The recurrences of the motif were called up by the poem; its transformation from nebulous to concrete reflected an analogous kinesis in the words it accompanied. The mutations in the motif were also musical commentaries on the language and on the drama. Here in Act Three, the motivic mutation just described is a solely musical phenomenon. The spondaic flourish has no meaning; it is not a sign; its recurrences are not determined by some poetic and dramatic need. In short, a specific procedure, used for dramatic and referential purposes in Act One, has become in Act Three a purely sonic event. Perhaps we can see in this a metaphor for the shift of balance from music-for-words to music-without-words as it extends through the entire opera. In the end, in the choral epilogue that closes the opera, Parsifal is indeed Debussy’s ‘beautiful edifice raised to the eternal glory of music’. Yet we should remember that just as Wagner did not always write disjointed, reactive music to symbolize words, so he did not always write merely ‘pure’ and unified music, in which the only drama needed is the abstract one of motifs, harmony and tonality. His real genius resided in his ability to modulate between the two, to be both pure musician and musical poet.

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Discursions into the Dramaturgy of Parsifal Gerd Rienäcker I. An anguished beginning: unison violins and cellos, supported by a clarinet and a bassoon, and then a cor anglais, intone a long-drawnout melody – sehr ausdrucksvoll (very expressively) – grandiosely, in so far as the muted strings will allow. It is a veiled promise, already half-revoked. The theme [1] rises from the depths, at first triadically and then stepwise, the minor second [1c] a surprise, suggesting further anguish; after six notes the ascent falls back upon itself, plunging downwards despite a new effort to ascend. It comes to final rest in a gently swaying figure. Yet here also there is a sense of retraction smoothing out the rise and fall, stilling the sense of movement. The contours of rhythm and metre are blurred, the main pulses are awash and, gradually, all sense of time is lost. The extreme slowness makes it impossible to decipher the metre; the pace is vague. A sense of order, introduced by the dotted rhythm [1f] in the third bar, is quickly lost in uncertainty. Orchestral colours remain undefined; almost imperceptibly the crescendo drives apart what had been fused before. The sound of the cor anglais at the climax fades away as the theme falls back, and leaves behind a sense of uncertainty. The key of A flat major can scarcely withstand this uncertainty; in the third bar, it collapses suddenly into C minor, where it stays – insecurely; when the movement stops, it is the mediant – C – and not the root note of the chord – A flat – which has been reached; the brass chords resolve this uncertainty. If this major tonality is indecisive, its opposite implies what is definite: as the veil falls away, nothing less than the wounds of the Passion, emblems of death, are laid bare. 69

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The melody binds them together in a psalmody reminiscent of chants of ‘Kyrie’, ‘Gloria’ and ‘Alleluia’ yet without form – a liturgy in the abstract. The ritual actions are evoked with mystic numbers: there are six notes in the ascent, seven notes before the collapse, and ten notes follow: five bars in all, centred upon the dotted-note pattern in a summary of divine ordering of the world, the act of creation, perfection in good and evil, the holy stigmata, the emblems of becoming, of the iron rule of the Grail, of unspeakable suffering. An anguished beginning! Unforgettable because of its prominent position in the score, this motif breaks the stillness of the nightenshrouded space and enjoys an existence of its own before pointing ahead to what follows; for the message must be found in the music, and in what happens on stage – in the entirety and in the fabric of which it is made. Act One, Scene Two; the knights of the Grail have assembled to receive Communion. Ecstatically, they listen to the sacramental words from the shadows – and to those words, drifting from above, the opening theme [1] is now given. It is labelled the ‘Love Feast’ theme. Before this, it has been heard both in the rapt ecstasies of Amfortas and in the narrations of Gurnemanz; later, Parsifal himself will take it up. It circles frequently around the sacred chalice, around the wondrous forces which shelter within it, around spiritual salvation and redemption from sin; he who hears or intones its melody seems lost to the present, for his eyes remain fixed on the chalice in visionary contemplation, on a relic that may bring him grace and enlightenment: healing for those in need. The theme speaks of one who has fallen into adversity, of one or of a community gathered to receive Communion. (As a general rule, these themes do not just define stage properties but fundamental situations and character relationships; Wagner called them ‘Grundthemen’, not ‘Leitmotiven’.) The sound of torment within the vision is unmistakable; it suggests the agonized gesture of those in extreme suffering as they fall back when they try to raise themselves, and their anguished prayers. The sound is as unmistakable as the dotted rhythm of the ceremony of the petrified rule of the Grail, the rhythm which will later lead us into it. The psalmody itself evokes ritual, for it is only in ritual that the community of the knights of the Grail finds and preserves its cohesive strength, but also its sense of anguish. 70

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Within the sacred chalice dwells the suffering Redeemer; it is of His body and His blood that the sacramental words tell; just as the words proclaim comfort for those in need through the experience of the Passion, so this music expresses the depth of their suffering; it is inextricably linked with those who seek and hope, with their search, and with salvation itself. One of the crucial situations in Parsifal is thus expressed by these five bars which stand at the threshold of the work. The motifs which make up this theme provide a key to highly disparate events, actions and situations, and each develops into separate themes; the whole prelude derives its ideas directly from this music. If the opening intervals of the triad are reduced from a third to a second and extended with five ascending notes, we have the motif associated with the Grail [25]. Stepwise intervals within the range of a fourth make up the motif associated with Faith [11], and with the Spear [1h]. The motif expressive of Anguish [3] derives from [1h], with the addition of the elements of [1]. Growing from the opening motif, the emergence of the motifs associated with the Grail, with faith and with suffering mark turning points in the drama, and each leads necessarily to the next. The thematic spectrum broadens during the first act without once breaking out of this web of musical derivation. Everything, literally everything, is related to the opening bars, whether it be the tired, sinking gesture of Amfortas [45], the four ascending notes of the Spear motif [1h], the oracular prophecy ‘durch Mitleid wissend, der reine Tor’ (‘enlightened through compassion, the innocent fool’) [54] or the four-note chime of the Grail temple bells [30]. Furthermore, the strangely convulsive rising and falling motif which characterizes Kundry – and later Klingsor – [7] together with the sharply falling motif with which Kundry and Amfortas [36] collapse to the ground, cannot deny their origin in [1]. The web of motifs spreads over the whole Act. It seems that even Klinsgor and his magic realm are comprised in it. What a deadly combination! Even in Act One, it provides a cryptic commentary on Gurnemanz’s narration. Whenever there is a mention of the ‘holy, solemn night’ (‘heilig ernster Nacht’), of the sacred relic and the citadel Titurel erected around it, or his fierce campaigns against the infidel, of Klingsor’s misguided search for salvation, of his 71

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revenge and his enchanted garden, we hear a wide variety of themes: the link between Klingsor’s realm and that of the Grail is not apparent until we recognize that he fashioned it from the ruins of the Love Feast. It was the Grail which rejected him and turned him into its enemy. It is the Grail ceremonial and its petrified rule which hold the community together but make it at the same time defenceless against life and thus vulnerable to the enemy it has made for itself. In the last analysis, it was not Klingsor who inflicted the wound which afflicts Amfortas and, through him, the whole band of knights. That Parsifal, the untouched, is increasingly drawn into the musical web of the Love Feast and that his own motif [57], not merely the prophecy motif, is fundamentally related to it is, on one level, the consequence of his entering the domain of the Grail. Thomas Mann has pointed out, however, that, through the ‘associative magic’ of Wagner’s scores, there are parallels at a deeper level: while the sacred relic is hidden from the world, Parsifal was himself removed from the world by his mother Herzeleide, lest he should fall into sinful ways. In the eyes of the fugitive lad, the world contracts to a place of giants and robbers, whom he fights without knowing why; as he hurries from land to land, he is as far removed from the world as he was before. He encounters love in order to renounce it, since otherwise he would have been damned, or suffered the fate of Klingsor’s captive knights. Stripped of his all-too-human frailties, he can belong to the Grail: for him, to cure those in need means to take their suffering upon himself, sufferings which are bound up with the ritual and purpose of the Grail – but forever? ‘Erlösung dem Erlöser!’ (‘The Redeemer redeemed!’): the epilogue to the Bühnenweihfestspiel is expressed in a transformed version of [1] or, more precisely, of the first half of the motif, which now ascends, without interruption, to radiant heights [2]. The falling interval has been expunged, the cry of lamentation has been exorcized. And yet a curiously glass-like sound cuts short this ‘redemption’: has the breath of life itself been stifled when the wound was closed? II. According to Wagner, the ‘linguistic ability’ of the orchestra lies in ‘expressing the inexpressible’. The ‘Grundthemen’, which reveal more than words or stage events can convey, constitute, in Brecht’s words, ‘events behind the events’ whenever they are heard. The 72

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actions, concepts, phrases or things which are associated with them are initials, rather than labels, but still convey a subtext by articulating what no one is able or willing to say at the time. With increasing frequency, however, conscious silence passes into ignorance – the themes reveal that ignorance and function as external commentators on it; for instance, in his narrative Gurnemanz weaves an openwork texture of facts and silences for the squires; where he is silent about something it is not because he intends it for effect. He talks about the enemy but almost entirely fails to mention the one essential fact we need to know about Klingsor – his early history – and it remains unclear what he really knows about this; at the same time, the themes of Klingsor’s rebellion and downfall permeate what he says, without his being conscious of it. Because this thematic web ensnares the characters whenever they try to convey important truths as messengers or teachers, it makes for a feeling of increasing entanglement; the drama responds to this sense of ensnarement more than the characters ever realize. It is not only Klingsor’s motif which surges through Gurnemanz’s narratives; the motifs associated with the holy sanctuary envelop him also, loosening his tongue without enabling him to grasp the deeper meaning of what he says – he is merely permitted to lose himself in them. When, however, he consciously attempts to establish points of reference in order to know where he stands, to find a handhold to support himself on his way, he fails. He introduces Titurel, in his narrative to the squires, so that he can appeal to him directly, but the theme evaporates, for this bridge will not bear the weight to be placed upon it, and beneath it yawns an abyss. Nothing will prevent Gurnemanz from falling so long as he tries to construct such bridges for himself; if he allows himself to be led by events, however, they will yield the material he needs for understanding: it is not he who conjures up the organ-like music which descends, like some heavenly messenger, to help those in need; rather it is music itself which enfolds him and with its glad tidings snatches him from the edge of the abyss so that he may entrust himself to its celestial sound. When instrumental passages – the ‘Grundthemen’ themselves and their development – express what the characters are prevented from saying or even knowing, they rob them of their roles as messengers. When Kundry calls Parsifal by name and, in doing so, appeals to 73

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the oracular prophecy of the blameless fool, she simultaneously betrays both knowledge and powerlessness: against her will she summons up the action which the fool must now perform; as a result her mission will fail. At the same time the prophecy expresses the ineffable yearning to which she, for her part, dare not succumb – will the fool redeem her also? Nothing could be further from Parsifal’s thoughts until a sudden shock causes him to sense the vacuum within him, and ‘the first kiss of love’ (‘der Liebe ersten Kuß’) recalls the wound of Amfortas. Waking dreams inspire him to act, cries of anguish drive him on; the Love Feast has become for him a nightmare from which he gradually divines his mission, a mission which he blindly follows. ‘Events behind the events’: in accordance with its perception, the real action shifts into the orchestra. Above all, the preludes and interludes function as co-ordinating points, defining the basic dramatic situations even before words and actions have supervened. Let us return to the beginning: the opening prelude contains three sections, of which the first introduces the motif of the Love Feast [1], the second the motifs of the Grail and of Faith [25 & 11], and the last returns to the beginning. A triptych? It is as though a hermetic seal separates each of the themes and sections. Furthermore, whatever is developed is, or seems to be, revoked. Is this a denial of all-embracing connection, or of development itself? Although such a suggestion is inconsistent with the idea of thematic derivation, these derivations merely describe an arc which leads back to the opening theme; what concludes the entire prelude is projected by what concludes each section: a pause for repose and contemplation. Either way, there is no going back. The ‘liturgical’ motif of the Love Feast does not reach the final section intact, for its component parts grow increasingly independent. Its first notes are opposed, repeatedly, by its detached central section: three times the beginning is invoked but two or even three times the motif turns back on itself and falls away, so that the last ascending phrase is splintered. The cry of anguish, such as is uttered by those who suffer deeply, acquires a searing eloquence as it culminates in thrice-stated clouds of chromaticism. Yet even here the individual sections become detached and entangled in the motif of grief, before the climactic motif, 74

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descending interval and gently swaying figure again coalesce as a self-contained half of the theme: only at the third (!) attempt do they successfully fuse. Thematic development, however concealed, assumes that the boundaries between the sections can be crossed without difficulty; bridging passages are incorporated into the texture, though they may not be immediately recognizable as such. These are governed by the art of the subtlest transition – adjacent chords combine unexpectedly to form the opening thirds of the Love Feast theme; a drumroll leads into the last section, establishing and fixing its tonality – A flat – before this is undermined by the strings on F, a third below. The structure, though solid, is permeable; what lies within is sealed off and introverted. There, where development seems impossible, it nonetheless takes place – surreptitiously. The circle is only half-closed. This concept imbues even the opening bars: the psalm-like melody returns not to the tonic key but to a third above; almost perceptibly the motif broadens into a polyphonic web which absorbs the melody and elevates it. When this polyphony subsides, the motif has risen above it. The ‘liturgical’ theme begins again on the mediant and abruptly changes its profile: the aspects associated with lamentation, barbed and contrasted, now emerge more sharply than ever, driving out the key of C minor (the climax of the motif – the dotted rhythms and the plunging interval – unexpectedly collapses onto the submediant, E minor). The sound is roughly burnished, increasingly fragmented, with oboes breaking any sense of continuity. That is not all: the first climax is followed by a second in the still centre of the swaying figure. At the same time, the motif returns full-circle to its starting point in this oscillating figure: the circle is no longer broken, and the jagged motifs float unresolved in space. The psalm-like theme has now sounded four times, and on each occasion it has led to something new, sealing off or prising it open: it is as though, if the circle were to close, it would exclude something crucial. The final section in fact develops from what has been excluded and left unresolved. Here development and confusion exist together. This is a mirror of the world of the Grail and, beyond that, of Kundry, Klingsor and Parsifal. Both their weaknesses and their strengths lie in their unbridled confusion. Their refusal to abandon responsibility for their actions keeps them alive, the very essence 75

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of their existence being to inflict innumerable wounds. The holy Love Feast reveals this. Although the ritual is couched in dark and ominously cold symbols, the music clothes it in garments of flame, which sustain it but give off no warmth. The opening motif of the prelude is built up gradually until it is transformed by a sudden ray of light: the music of violent grief, a cry of desperate frozen petrifying anguish. Titurel’s supreme effort in his hymn of thanksgiving diverts the impending threat and stifles opposition. But the music only momentarily surrenders to him… The Love Feast scene – and with it not only the sudden insight which causes Parsifal to tear himself from Kundry’s embrace but even her vain search for her Saviour – is governed by the music of the opening prelude, and thus one of the fundamental situations of Parsifal is established. He who believes in it will find it difficult to have confidence in the innocent morning and undefiled Nature of the first act. He will find it even harder to believe when he hears the distant motifs of the Love Feast and of Grief, of the Passion and of Salvation while the squires are asleep. Furthermore, Gurnemanz’s words imply the complications which the messengers from Amfortas describe and which we ourselves witness in his suffering. The end of the first scene is equally anguished. Gurnemanz and Parsifal set off for the temple of the Grail. A slow march has already supplied a framework for this: within this endless continuum time no longer exists. While the orchestra prevents the two men from speaking as they approach the temple, it now sets out to create a sense of time and development of its own. How unexpected are the motifs it summons up! First comes the tangled theme which Gurnemanz used to describe the defences of Monsalvat. With a sudden forte, dissonance builds to another climax with the chromatic motif of anguish. Because the cry of Amfortas is its centre, the march closes itself in a confusion of strangely languorous laments; there is a second outburst, with redoubled aguish, cut off by braying trombones: at the sound of the Love Feast motif, all else drops away. The four-note tolling of the bells takes up the rhythm of the march; the perpetuum mobile creates the impression of walking on the spot beneath the temple dome. Although now silent, the music of the march anticipated the theme of the bells. It is logical that the orchestra should later pick up the motif again from the bells. 76

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The interlude reveals all too clearly the link between the Grail cere­ mony and Amfortas’s cry: it points to Amfortas, as the one to whom those in need turn for succour, and whom they will soon require to perform his holy office, although this will only perpetuate his pain. The music conveys interminable oscillation between collapsing and rising. The four-note bell pattern seems to have shaped this figure… Another marking would appear to govern the prelude to the se­ cond act, Heftig, doch nie übereilt (Violent, but not too fast). There is a more sombre minor key and, from a chord sustained in the very depths of the orchestra, a semitone lower than the end of the previous act, strangely distracted, wildly volatile motifs flare up; they are chained in the depths but restive, and plunge down again before they have reached the heights. The pattern of these movements – the rampant upward surge and falling back – belongs to the main motif and overwhelms it to such an extent that, eventually, it will transform every phrase. Indeed, the sudden collapse here becomes the chief incident: this is the motif which characterized Kundry, Amfortas and even Parsifal when they fell to the ground in the first act. Another familiar motif – the chromatically descending cry of pain – also emerges. Yet what has this to do with Klingsor’s domain? It does not illustrate his magic tricks; instead it deftly characterizes the basic situation from which this evil emanates. Its dramatic potential lies in its sudden rearing and plunging, in its sudden fits of uncontrolled energy; Klingsor is subject to its compulsive demands – countless times he rises to take the Grail by force, countless times he falls back into the dismal depths from which he wildly rises again, only to fall back once more – a thousand times he experiences rejection. As a result the idea of collapse becomes dominant, and the motif culminates in a piercing scream. The motifs of anguish and collapse drive Klingsor and Kundry together, just as they drive Klingsor’s enemies to him. All these motifs of wounding and falling exist in the preludes. The musical inferno lasts only fifty bars and its total disintegration anticipates the closing moments of the act when Klingsor’s tower collapses in ruins, Kundry falls to the ground and Parsifal, victorious but accursed, sets off into the wilderness with no idea where he is going. To express this in music requires all the terrible armoury Wagner can muster: the tonal framework is torn apart – the music rushes 77

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wildly from one key to another, shrill dissonances combine with a piercing triad devoid of euphony; the colour fragment, and the motifs are harshly split: an abrupt change of register destroys every move towards melodic or harmonic consideration; only a pale minor tonality, fanfares and a sense of restless wandering pull it together – at least until the ultimate point of utter disintegration when merely shard-like fragments remain. Each of these motifs permeates the second act: the cry of anguish, the upward surge and downward fall, whether fleeting or protracted, the chromatic chord progression. Stripped of this restlessness, and linked to the themes of Amfortas and the Prophecy, these motifs are seen to derive from the motif of the Grail. For Klingsor seized all that he possesses from the Grail: his compulsive energy – his frenzied struggle to rise – is present in the prelude. So this introduction summarizes what has gone before in order to build something terrifying from it; although this is Klingsor’s music, it also mediates between both worlds. And is not this sense of feverish haste intimately related to the petrified ritual? Are they not the two sides of the same coin? The answer to this question is given in the next prelude and the third act: that Klingsor has been defeated by no means put an end to his motifs, since they were associated with others besides him. The way through the wilderness, the desolation in the sanctuary, the deep distress experienced by Parsifal, the Grail Knights and Gurnemanz, Amfortas’s unspeakable anguish and the cry of blighted Nature – all these motifs coalesce in an outpouring of grief which the Prophecy motif in vain tries to oppose (as Klingsor and Kundry have previously been vanquished). The third-act prelude does not allude to the fact that it is springtime; the natural cycle has no place in the wilderness in which mankind now dwells; it is not expressed until the Good Friday music. Then the music turns away from the blossoming landscape to devote itself to suffering humanity. Gurnemanz calls upon the music of the spring and Good Friday when Kundry returns, but to little effect. On Parsifal’s return as a knight errant, he sinks once again to the ground, before rising as king and transcending his humanity; thus he seeks to come to terms with ritual and with Nature. Here also the fundamental situations are firmly established; the themes of the narratives of Parsifal and Gurnemanz, and even of the faltering knights of the Grail, return here; the Good Friday music 78

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annuls them only momentarily; whether Parsifal will definitively overcome them is an issue which can only be resolved in Utopia. III. Wagner’s Bühnenweihfestspiel is a summation of his life’s work, a journey from opera to drama which incorporates the achievements and, indeed, whole passages from earlier works, most notably from Lohengrin, Tristan, Meistersinger and the Ring. The composer, a man of the theatre and would-be politician, has not rushed blindly into it. The origins of all that he has adopted are plain to see. Lohengrin’s farewell to the swan is quoted when Parsifal kills the sacred swan and Gurnemanz bewails the hateful deed. Kundry approaches the blameless fool to the accompaniment of Tristanesque chromaticism and sustained chords; here the magic potion, by contrast, is, however, debased to necromantic skill. The Grail Knights, in turn, have joined the Mastersingers’ guild. And if the Grail theme is distorted to a grimace, it bears a fatal resemblance to Alberich’s Tarnhelm: it looks as though the squires in the first act would like to deal with Kundry in much the same way as the Nibelung sought to deal with the whole world. There are many different reasons why Wagner reverts to traditional operatic forms. Recitative-like, arioso passages and even strophic settings are also a part of the Ring. If they emerge more clearly in Parsifal, it may be to give a clearer overall view of events. The striving for what Pierre Boulez has called ‘legibility’ is implicit in the orchestral writing, and it is in accordance with this principle that Wagner separates groups of voices and tonal layers, even where individual colours merge into one. Within a framework of tonal uncertainty, it is appropriate that the entry of ‘Grundthemen’ and their harmonic development should be clear. Operatic arias, recitatives, songs and ensemble passages each in their own way tell a story; to employ them begs the question as to the purpose of their original contexts, or, more pertinently, how Wagner interpreted their earlier use; from this emerge indispensable commentaries on the plot, and on the situations and characters. Both Amfortas and Klingsor, in a scena and aria apiece, give eloquent and shattering expression to their suffering, but the traditional model literally breaks down beneath the weight. The accompanied recitative that leads into the aria, the introduction and the vocal entry 79

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apparently confirm our expectations: accompaniment patterns are clearly established before the main theme begins. Amfortas’s scena is made up of an instrumental and a vocal four-bar phrase, almost identical to each other. But what happens within the four-bar phrase itself is strangely disparate; the theme fragments into two bars; wildly surging and plunging motifs in the cellos and basses scarcely affirm the accompaniment pattern but leap into the void; the chordal repetitions alter from bar to bar. Within moments, however, the key of E minor is lost and Amfortas retrieves it from the minor third below, so that the fabric of his aria does not completely fall apart. While the opening is fragile and splintered, what follows is indecisive: admittedly, the exposition is followed by middle sections, but these cause the aria to sink into a series of orchestral images; only isolated, formalized motifs form a coda once the reprise has failed to materialize. There could be no clearer picture that this of Amfortas’s ensnarement: among images of collapse and ecstasy, of a desire conceived as guilt, of the sacred chalice and of failure, the arioso tradition breaks down. The series of images propels the singer forward, but disaster lurks even in the opening (apparently regular) two-bar phrase, in the familiar motifs of collapse and rebellion, which undermine the aria with their terrible interplay. In the same way, Klingsor’s aria announces its eventual disintegration: motifs that start up abruptly are cut off at the end of the bar and reduced to mutilated accompaniment patterns. Two bars later, the main theme is introduced and distorted by Klingsor at his first entry; his haste, however, results from listening to the accompaniment pattern, the thematic grimace that develops from a previous act of violence. All the more obstinately does the music insist upon two- and four-bar phrases; where they assert themselves, all that they frame is scenes of devastation. In his attempt to escape this destruction, Klingsor desecrates the sanctuary, but it is precisely here that he fails: the final Grail chord turns into a shrill dissonance, and the cadence to which the music has been moving hangs in the air, preventing the aria from ending. Thus Klingsor’s monologue projects on to the whole what its opening phrase had already described: the mutilation of his own limbs. Nothing, it seems, could be further from such destructive motifs than the great ensemble scene known as the ‘Waltz of the Flowers’. 80

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The four- and eight-bar phrases dance a charming measure, captivating the listener by their sheer regularity. Dainty arabesques entwine the dancers’ limbs. A blessed isle? Yet how strangely frail are these flowery garlands, for their elaborate periodic structure has begun in the meantime to fall apart: however unwavering the dance, groups of bars grow unhesitatingly independent, and not even the four-square structure remains intact. The delicate strains of the Flower Maidens are shot through with fear, expressed in unexpectedly violent gestures: do they hint at danger? The flowers give voice to this thought: ‘Kannst du uns nicht lieben und minnen / wir welken und sterben dahinnen’ (‘If you cannot love and cherish us, / we shall wither and perish’). The fact that – as they tell Parsifal – their master plucked them in spring, not in autumn, reveals their tragedy: cut flowers court favours of the innocent fool, his love-making must make good not only their lovers whom he has slain but also Nature herself from whom they have been torn – for a few moments only, before death intervenes. The arabesques decorate that sinking gesture which we have identified as a cry of anguish. And the gently rising melody has about it aspects of the Love Feast theme, or at least of a mutilated version of it. Throughout the dance we sense the ‘eig’nen sündigen Blutes Gewell’ (‘ebb of my sinful blood’), a concealed motif which rears up rebelliously and then fades away. Although redolent of transience, powerlessness and inchoate fear, the dance scene observes the devious rules of a game: for, like a succession of knights before him, Parsifal is to be drawn into Klingsor’s realm: while the fallen flowers dance around him, Kundry waits ready to hand him over – against her will – to Klingsor. An ensemble scene that seeks to confuse the senses is subject to censure: in Art and Revolution Wagner called opera ‘a chaos that confuses the senses’, the shrine of a mercantile god and the organon of industrialized amusement. That he developed the rules of opera to excess, causing them to crumble away gradually and imbuing them with symbols of death and the sound of a veiled lament, throws a harsh light on Klingsor’s domain and those who might fall under its sway. One cannot fail to hear the references to the Grail motif here, to the king’s lament and to the ritual words of the Love Feast. More than that: Klingsor’s evil presence lurks behind the flowers’ 81

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seduction song; plucked and fallen, the flowers, too, beg for love and tacitly hope for redemption. It is opera itself that stands in need of redemption, that same culture industry for which Klingsor’s deceitful ways are at least in part to blame: once its want of freedom has been subsumed, Nature herself may come into her own. The sage of Bayreuth allows an old vision of the future to speak anew: his festival later bore those musical visions to their grave. Only for a moment does a single self-contained musical structure belong to Nature – the Good Friday music; for here, and only here, does the Grail theme take on a lyrical aspect, a natural adaptable growth which in that way may learn to sing without restraint. A funeral march soon leads back within walls of stone to the world of ritual; amid such suffering, it also expresses Parsifal’s farewell to his childhood and to his newly awakened love; once more it leads into the thunderous peal of the bells; within the temple dome the knights of the Grail crushed and broken, perform their melancholy rite, inflexible and leaderless, remote from Nature which alone can redeem them. When Parsifal returns the sacred Spear, he encounters a ‘glass-bead game’ which stylizes the ritualized want of freedom by raising it without annulling it into celestial harmonies. Even the work’s description as a ‘Stage Consecration Festival Play’ is pregnant with ritual. It evokes tradition: the old Roman liturgy, polyphonic sacred music, a ‘Dresden Amen’ from the eighteenth century and, finally, Bach’s St Matthew Passion – an immense force behind the Bühnenweihfestspiel from which the Bayreuth master has borrowed – in outline – a number of phrases sung by Christ, most notably His prayers on the Mount of Olives, together with the opening of the chorale ‘Wenn ich einmal soll scheiden’ (‘Be near me, Lord, when dying’), closing suspended dissonances, and even the astringent sounds of the oboe. Such borrowings tell their own story: as Amfortas and, later, Parsifal suffer the Saviour’s wounds and experience His cry they take over His pain; the musical language of Bach comes to their aid. Palestrina’s style pervades the celestial choruses, turning them into abstract messengers of salvation, the incarnation of divine ecstasy. The muted woodwind which underpin the bells may conjure up organ sound. 82

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This archaizing trend itself becomes eloquent: a background glance may give strength to those who are lost, while revealing the Passion to them. Everywhere there are signs of irresolution: polyphony leads to stark dissonances; a strangely intransigent note drives away consonance; not only chromatic but especially diatonic progression destroys the harmonic context, since chords permanently cloud over, layers of chords and orchestral voices overlap, and the result is bitonality. In this there is a message for Wagner’s successors: Mahler would adopt it, as would Debussy, Schoenberg and even Stravinsky, whatever the latter’s objections to Parsifal may have been. Not only in music is new ground broken – a process strikingly akin to archaization – dramaturgically, too, there is much that is new. The montage and development of ‘Grundthemen’ might play right into the hands of the cinema; the use of intervention in the form of a radical commentary, combined with the dialectic of formal and stylistic criticism, might find a home in epic theatre, without finding a pigeon-hole for Wagner as a precursor of Brecht, Piscator or Meyerhold.At the same time Wagner’s return to the past is transformed into its antithesis: as he departs, he throws open doors; what he develops in his later works remains unrequited. That is, if one knows how to read these works properly, with one’s eyes fixed ahead.

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Parsifal on the Stage Mike Ashman Wagner’s catalogue title for his final opera – a Bühnenweihfestspiel (Stage Consecration Festival Play) – does not tell us that his work is religious. Rather it shows his intention that ticket sales would come from a single theatre (Bayreuth) for the benefit of a single family (the Wagners). An unofficial, extra-legal ban on stage performances outside the Festival – a curious anticipation of the licensing policy of late twentieth-century musical production companies – held sway, with notable pirated exceptions in Amsterdam and New York, for just over thirty years. Its main effect, though, was to assign an importance unintended by Wagner himself to the stage designs and production that he had realized for the opera’s 1882 premiere. This was a pity. Wagner had always hated the idea of cloning, or merely repeating, an existing staging year-in year-out. Parsifal (a collaboration between composer, designers Max Brückner and Paul von Joukovsky and choreographer/staff director Richard Fricke) looks from what records we have to be the most imaginative of the productions he supervised of his own works. Memories of the popular theatre in London, a pre-Ring tour of opera houses throughout Germany and lengthy debate with Richard Fricke had weaned Wagner away from a literal narrative approach to stage action and its illustration by historically-informed painted backdrops. In place of copying the Grand Opera settings he had both loved and hated in Paris – still a model for the 1876 Ring premiere – he now let his scenic imagination run as free as a contemporary painter’s en plein air. Models were found on his Italian journeys for both the Grail kingdom of Amfortas (Siena) and the Flower Garden magic of his antipode Klingsor (Ravello), and sketched into stage form by a painter (Joukovsky). Some of the effects resulting, especially 85

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in Act Two, were still decidedly French, but Impressionistic rather than operatic. Both Wagner and Cosima had a say in the extension of Joukovsky’s sketches. Cosima suggested that the Grail temple should feel like the centre of an unseen honeycomb of passageways and unseen chambers, Wagner that the Flower Maidens should come from flower stalks and petals of extra-human size. In the production itself Fricke’s up-to-date theatrical influence was felt in the uncoy physicality of the Flower Maidens’ ballet chanté, the acting of Kundry (especially in her virtually silent participation in Act Three), and the direction that the disillusioned Grail Knights should enter the temple armed for their final confrontation with Amfortas. In terms of developing production history the next sixty-nine years for Parsifal took place more on paper than in the theatre. Both Bayreuth itself and the first wave of international productions copied Bayreuth 1882, over-mindful of the spirit of what the Wagner daughters Eva and Daniela called ‘the settings on which the eye of the Master himself had rested’. Mahler’s major Viennese collaborator Alfred Roller never got around to Parsifal with Mahler but, because he had once been Hitler’s art teacher, was summoned to Bayreuth in 1934 to (gently) replace the work of Brückner and Joukovsky. Rediscovered sketches show that the designer had lost little of his younger touch. But his massive exteriors, minimalist interiors that were basically light boxes, and snow-clad northern mountains were compromised by poor set building and Roller’s own death in summer 1935. His designs did, however, yield a high wall with niche for Klingsor that much influenced the young Wieland Wagner. And it was Wieland who was given the job of ‘completing’ Roller’s work in 1937 – under strict instructions from his aunts to return rapidly to the look of 1882 – which he achieved partly with the Festival’s first use of film on stage in the Transformation scenes. Elsewhere little progress was made apart from in Frankfurt, where the reductive, musically oriented ideas of the Swiss scenographer Adolphe Appia saw some real stage life in the cathedral-as-petrified-forest designs of Ludwig Sievert. There were clear antecedents for the production style which Wieland initiated at the reopening of the Bayreuth Festival in 1951 – the work of Appia and Edward Gordon Craig, the bare mechanics of classical Greek theatre discussed in Wagner’s own writings, the long 86

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musico-dramatic talks given to Wieland in the war years by Kurt Overhoff and the intense collaboration of his wife, choreographer Gertrud Reissinger. But Wieland’s work in Bayreuth (and Stuttgart) until his death in 1966 must be accounted a landmark in the history of opera production. In Parsifal, premiered in 1951, a comprehensive spiritual confrontation with the work was motivated entirely by the ‘expression of Parsifal’s changing spiritual states’ (letter to conductor Hans Knappertsbusch, May 1951 – see also Wieland’s Parsifal Cross, in Appendix, pp. 252–53). In the spirit of the abstract painters whom Wieland admired, the Grail domain was essentially a lit space with cyclorama and projections. The Grail temple was a raised plinth with the knights grouped around it in an almost complete circle, its architecture suggested by the red-gold outline of four pillars. Within this framework the singers’ movement was often monumentally slow or non-existent, with much use being made of the space between them – Wieland’s dramatic confrontations took place either a long way apart or nose-to-nose. There is a certain irony in the fact that his handling of large ensembles gave the chorus that function of the ‘scenic machine made to walk and sing’ to which Wagner himself had so objected in his essays on production. But few nineteenth-century choruses can have moved with the precision and concentrated ecstasy that Wieland drew from such moments as the entry of the knights into the Grail temple. Wieland was a great developer of productions after their first appearance. By 1963, after twelve years in the repertory, his Parsifal was barely recognizable from its 1951 opening. There remained only the definition of the central oval area – where, in ancient Greek style, most of the action was placed – and the plinth in the Grail temple. In letters to his collaborators and in interviews he sought continually to widen the net of influences on the production, citing Picasso and Jackson Pollock. The now numerous recordings issued on CD of performances of this production – one for every year from 1951–64, 1966 and 1970 – bear witness to Wieland’s fanatical work on text and meaning. Noticeable are the clarity of enunciation, dramatic shading of phrases, and dynamic use of pauses or added expressive sound such as the knights’ cry of pain as Titurel’s coffin is flung open in Act Three. A wave of new stagings in the 1970s and 1980s developed the work on individual characters that Wieland had begun and found 87

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alternative design routes for the traditional bi-polar look of forest/Grail temple scenes. However, the opera’s narrative structure remained, as yet, unchallenged. The director Ulrich Melchinger and designer Thomas Richter-Forgach in Kassel replaced Christianderived icons with ones anticipating the rash of high-tech sci-fi films like the Star Wars series. Götz Friedrich’s second of three stagings was made for the opera’s centenary production in Bayreuth. He had his designer Andreas Reinhardt rearrange the opera’s accustomed vertical set perspective into a deep, angled, horizontal mix of the Tower of Babel and Cosima’s fantasy of myriad rooms. This permanent set of large designer rectangles implied, in its lack of vegetation, that some world catastrophe (a familiar trope of 1980s/90s Wagner productions) had taken place. Friedrich’s direction of his cast foregrounded the shame and failure of Amfortas’s leadership of the community – Gurnemanz could barely bring himself to touch the wounded, crippled Grail king – and, with characteristic wit and as a result of detailed research,1 presented the Flower Maidens as American rock chicks seducing wavering Grail Knights disco-style. The director Joachim Herz and designer Wolf Münzner for English National Opera in 1986 presented Grail leaders Amfortas and Titurel as frayed bishops in high episcopal regalia, an internalized society in decay, contrasting that with Klingsor’s realm as adventure playground. Their delineation of the stages of Kundry’s attempted seduction of Parsifal – she only becomes really dangerous after his rejection of her – was especially acute. The production’s successor at the London company in 1999 was created by Wieland Wagner’s one-time associate Nikolaus Lehnhoff, who contrasted intense psychological characterization with modernist, often propless realization of scenes. The first Grail scene omitted chalices and other symbolic paraphernalia, demonstrating ritual and emotional progress by means of an updated version of Wieland’s strong directional mood lighting. Raimund Bauer’s abstract scenery included meteorites (hints of another post-apocalyptic timescale). A railway tunnel and track leading to and from nowhere furnished what was 1 In his commissioned American Centennial March Wagner ruthlessly suppressed any musical ideas that could be useful for his ‘real’ stage work and over one rejected sketch for the March he wrote ‘the Flower Maidens, wanting to be American!’.

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shown to be the definitive break-up of the Grail community in Act Three. Like Herz, Lehnhoff marked closely the stages of Kundry’s (here reluctant) seduction of Parsifal in Act Two, illustrating it with a gradual unveiling of her onion-layered costume. Another, perhaps closer, descendant of Wieland’s light-and-space interpretation was Robert Wilson’s production, first shown in Hamburg in 1991 and Houston in 1992. As usual in his work, physical space, shapes and gesture have greater importance than naturalistic or psychological action – the frozen water iceberg illustrating Gurnemanz’s and Parsifal’s Act One journey from lake to temple, or the tall black costumes of the Grail Knights at their (only) stage appearance in Act Three. In their Berlin Parsifal of 1992 director Harry Kupfer and designer Hans Schavernoch stressed the work’s sexuality in the hi-tech but stripped-down style of their recent Bayreuth Ring. The Flower Maidens were shown only on TV screens – Parsifal reclining to watch them like a businessman with late-night porn films in his hotel – and Waltraud Meier’s Kundry approached Wagner’s fantasy that ‘she should really be naked in that scene, like a Titian Venus’ (‘sie sollte da eigentlich nackt sein, wie ein Tizianer Venus’). The mould of naturalistic, narrative interpretation of the work was finally broken by Ruth Berghaus’s centenary production in Frankfurt. A choreographer and director who had trained in what was then the German Democratic Republic, Berghaus, with her frequent collaborator the designer Axel Manthey, essayed an approach akin to Roland Barthes’s Writing Degree Zero approach. It offered ‘signs’ in set and costumes to delineate the essential points of the drama, emotional rather than indicative of any particular time and place. Although conventional melodramatic tension was almost banished, and facts or suggestions about the work (often dark ones) were presented in isolation from naturalistic action, Berghaus had not come from a dance background for nothing. Her production built up a narrative tension, even if that ‘narrative’ was far from a naturalistic or Romantic illustration of plotline. Psychological states were often shown physically: Gurnemanz was a blind Tiresias of a schoolteacher lecturing the Squires on a blackboard about the coming of the ‘saviour’/fool; Parsifal himself played with toy crown and sword in a red romper suit. In the pit, Michael Gielen’s factual, unemotional handling of the music mirrored the production’s anti-illusionist quest. Berghaus’s 89

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staging undoubtedly provoked the last twenty years’ explosion of interest in staging Parsifal in as radical a manner as possible. The film director Hans-Jürgen Syberberg began his career filming Bertolt Brecht’s last rehearsals. The influence of Brecht’s theatre is clear in all Syberberg’s work on and around Wagner: a complete and deliberate artificiality of presentation; the mechanics of theatre, props and lights always visible; the sets, or scenery, made from a nonnaturalistic collage of symbols and images connected to the subject matter; and the films themselves never allowed to become an illusionist story. Syberberg’s Parsifal, released in 1982 – to date, his only version of a full-length work by another creator – played largely on a large model of Wagner’s death mask. It had the character of Parsifal himself played by both boy and girl – a logical extension of the opera’s central symbols, the masculine Spear and the feminine Grail. It shared the casting between a leading theatre actress (Peter Stein’s Berlin Schaubühne star Edith Clever as Kundry), a leading singer (Robert Lloyd as Gurnemanz), the conductor of the soundtrack recording (Armin Jordan) acting Amfortas, and young unknowns (as Parsifal). It was, of course, mimed, although with almost freakish accuracy. Peter Konwitschny’s productions employ many different theatrical disciplines, not excluding the fairground and children’s theatre. His 1995 Munich Parsifal was something of a sequel to the pessimism of his sometime chief Ruth Berghaus’s Frankfurt production. Working from the detailed knowledge of the score that he inherited from his father, the conductor Franz Konwitschny, the director noted that ‘in Parsifal everything is derived from the first five measures of the prelude. Klingsor and Amfortas have the same musical material…’ Johannes Leiacker’s sets were compared with the canvases of contemporary German painter (and Wagner-lover) Anselm Kiefer – a bare white room with a tree; a subterranean, root-like tunnel for the first Grail ceremony. Konwitschny believed (as Calixto Bieito would) that the redemption offered in the drama meant a chance of freedom from the lovelessness of the Grail society. He focused on the male sexual exclusiveness of Wagner’s Grail Knights. As a sign of hope, his Parsifal and Kundry were immediately and intensely in lust – yet, Konwitschny wrote, ‘at the conclusion, Kundry dies, sinks, soulless, perhaps redeemed, to the ground. Redeemed? For me, it is unacceptable when she, as an element that endangers the world of 90

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man “as seductress”, is liquidated like Carmen, Renata, or Marie… There is no text sung to Kundry’s death! But I can no longer imagine how the world of the Grail should continue thereafter.’ When Pierre Boulez accepted Wolfgang Wagner’s 2004 invitation to return to Bayreuth (for the same opera on which he had distinctively collaborated with Wieland in 1966), he insisted on a radical sta­ging. And he got it – from German art-architect/performance artist Christoph Schlingensief (1960–2010), perhaps the first identifiable artistic choice of Festival director-elect Katharina Wagner. Schling­ ensief and his designers Daniel Angermayr and Thomas Goerge drew their imagery from Namibia (old German South-West Africa, which the director specifically visited to research the production), other parts of Africa, Nepal, Haiti and south-east Asia. Act One began in an abandoned colonial mansion with watchtower, shacks, alleys lined with barbed wire and lamps picking out a ruined city – part contemporary militarized African dictatorship but definitely a world where, as one commentator said, the Christmas of the Nativity and the slaughter of the Innocents and the Easter of the Crucifixion and the Resurrection all fell on the same day. Scenery throughout was a collage of the real, the filmed, and the indicated, a cunning fringe-theatre Parsifal where the physical (water, wooden textures etc) was often represented by video. A rotating stage brought on assorted art-world and pop-culture references – Warhol soup cans, actor freaks, graffiti and placards, muscle-boys, modern epic film costumes. Schlingensief insisted, in both his commentaries and his actual staging, that he was intent on not pinning down a single interpretation of the story but in allowing alternate histories and scenarios to develop. He looked to create a supporting network of religious and aesthetic images rather than merely to alienate those expecting conventional narratives. Thus Kundry – part variety act, part witch-doctor, part victim – wore mostly African costume. Amfortas’s balsam was represented by a dancing Nepalese deity in white who then became Kundry’s alter ego, or acting double. Parsifal and Amfortas began as stereotypes – a Christ-like figure with white robes and blond hair, a Joseph Conradlike Lord Jim lost in the jungle. Characters appeared uncanonically early (or, like Klingsor in Act Three, late) if their presence could illustrate some internal need or emotion of those officially in a scene. 91

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At the end, in the words of outraged New Yorker critic Alex Ross, ‘for the maximally transcendent final moments of Parsifal, Schling­ ensief gave us two dead rabbits, their rotting bodies intertwined, their images projected on a screen above the stage. We then saw a sped-up film of one rabbit decomposing, its body frothing as the maggots did their work.’ With the production showing an earthy rite rather than an Aryan or Christian ceremony, some commentators hailed the ‘de-sacralizing’ of the opera, while others, like Ross, found merely that ‘Schlingensief had just put new mumbo-jumbo in the place of Wagner’s, like a nightmarish avant-garde counterpart to one of Franco Zeffirelli’s overstuffed Met productions’. These reactions of the more conservative American and British press paralleled the ‘all Wieland Wagner does is turn the lights off’ reactions of their predecessors to similar experiments at Bayreuth in 1951. Next up in Bayreuth (2008) was another multi-narrative staging by Stefan Herheim which tracked Parsifal’s development from child to young man, intercutting it with the histories of Germany and of the Bayreuth Festival from the Bismarck era to the Adenauer reconstruction of the 1950s. The prelude featured an elaborate pantomime of the death of Herzeleide, the birth of Parsifal and his near-seduction by Kundry (a transformed Herzeleide) – events paralleled by later glosses of Herzeleide and Gamuret making love, Klingsor luring the boy Parsifal to sleep with him and Kundry’s scripted Act Two seduction scene. Much of this extra-curricular Parsifal action happened on a bed present all the time in the acting area but destroyed for Act Three. References were also made to René Magritte’s painting The Art of Conversation and Pink Floyd’s album/stage show The Wall (when Parsifal was seen bricking a wall on Wagner’s grave like the rebuilding of Villa Wahnfried after the war). Other role-playing transformations, many of them associated with Kundry, included her appearance as Klingsor at the end of Act Two, as Amfortas in Act Three and even (in Act Two, at ‘Parsifal! Weile!’ [Parsifal! Stay!]) as the Grail. Parsifal himself was seen variously as a boy, a man and a grotesque figure with the face of an old man; the Grail as both a goblet and the newborn Parsifal in arms. There were some visual homages to Herheim’s old chief Götz Fried­ rich and some theatrical in-jokes too – when Parsifal sang ‘Wie dünkt 92

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mich doch die Aue heut’ so schön!’ (‘How fair seem the meadows today!’) circus lights were turned on. The pictures created by Herheim and designers Heike Scheele and Gesine Völlm often recalled, in their mixture of beauty and kitsch, the multiple imagery assembled by Hans-Jürgen Syberberg in his Wagner films. Worked-on copies of Wahnfried and the Bundestag alternated with inventions such as the mausoleum-like hospital where a transvestite Klingsor ran his magic castle and the Flower Maidens were nurses. The thoroughness (and familiarity) of Herheim’s historical references ensured that the production’s more radical tropes of inserted narrative and character play did not offend even the most conservative critics. ‘Die große Jesus-show’ was the headline to one review of the Catalan director Calixto Bieito’s 2010 Stuttgart Parsifal. The production began, before the music did, on a collapsed overhead motorway (designer Susanna Geschwenders), apparently inspired by Cormac McCarthy’s novel The Road. The elevated road was crowded with the have-nots, their faces marked by radiation sickness (another postapocalyptic scenario). As the prelude started, a pregnant woman appeared; only Kundry offered her a drink and clothes. Chastity and innocence were not the ideals of this Parsifal but charity and love definitely were. ‘Ravaged by the elements, a bloodthirsty hunter – not heroic in the beginning’ (Bieito), Parsifal came from no man’s land. He blooded himself on a victim of the Grail Knights and murdered Klingsor. The Flower Maidens were abused, zombie-like sirens in fetishistic clingfilm attached with white tape, drawn on in red by Klingsor and unwrapped with childish fascination by Parsifal. Parsifal’s ability to transcend this dog-eat-dog Blade Runner-like society through the purity of his love for Kundry brought him redemption. When she wheeled him on in a shopping trolley in Act Three she was pregnant by him, and some future was assured. At the end of the opera she survived. There was nudity right at the start of the prelude; the younger Parsifal grinned like a Barbie doll and hugged toys; Klingsor lived with his phallus-substitute flame-thrower and lusted after both women and scenery; a mafioso Titurel double wore shades and clutched a bouquet; ‘nice’ Gurnemanz beat an angel to death in his frustration at the redeemer not coming. Superficially Bieito had maintained his reputation as opera’s enfant terrible of the late 2000s with these 93

parsifal

helpings of sex and violence. And there was the trademark black humour he loves to throw at opera audiences. Parsifal was dressed at one point with icons of every religion – including a bust of Wagner – as well as breastplate and helmet, and Kundry used a discarded wig to wash Parsifal’s feet ‘with her hair’. But Bieito’s production is emblematic of the long way Parsifal has come in its second century on stage. The exploding of the myth of the sacred, Christian work has taken the opera on a journey into the realms of the most modern Opernregie – far from the static rituals with which Wagner’s immediate family once tried to embalm it.

94

Thematic Guide Devised by Lionel Friend Themes from the opera have been identified by the numbers in square brackets in the article on the music. These are also printed at corresponding points in the libretto, so that the words can be related to the musical themes. [1] b

e

a

i

g c

d

f

[2]

h

[3]

x

42

[4]

43

60

4

[5]

[6]

[7]

95 x

1c

parsifal

[7]

x

4

[8]

1c, d

[9]

1c

[10]

1d

1h (inv.)

[11]

11

[12]

gestossen

[13]

11

11

[14]

1g

[15]

96

thematic guide [16] [16]

18d 18d

1c 1c

x x

[17] [17]

16 16

[18] [18]

18a 18a

b b

a a

c c

a a

d d

[19] [19]

19 19

[20] [20]

[21]

19

[22]

19

borrowed from Lohengrin

[23]

x (=18b)

97 [24]

41z

18b

[22] [22]

19 19

parsifal [23] [23]

[24] [24]

x (=18b) x (=18b)

18b 18b

41z 41z

[25] [25]

also also

borrowed from Lohengrin borrowed from Lohengrin

18c 18c

60 60

cf. 18c (25) cf. 18c (25)

[25a] [25a]

[26]

25

[26a]

[27]

25

25

[28]

27

57

[29] also

[30]

98

57 57

thematic guide [29] [29] also also

[30] [30]

18d 18d

also also

29 29

29 29

[31] [31]

42 42

[32] [32]

29 29 43 43

[33]

b

[34]

d

c

a 60

[35]

34b

41y

9 61

25a

[36]

34b

4 (inv.)

99

25a

parsifal

4 (inv.)

[36]

34b

[37]

cf. 34c

61

10

[38]

37

[39] cf. 36

[40]

[41]

50

39

18b

z

x (42)

y

[42]

[43]

[44]

10

(9)

prominent in Tristan und Isolde

42

43 [45]

100

[44]

42

thematic guide 43 [45]

[46]

x

[47]

x (18b)

37

42

[48]

[49]

30 + 47

17

[50]

[51]

[52]

43

(a)

(b)

[53]

[54]

durch Mit - leid

42

wis - sen,

der

101

rei

-

ne

42

x

-

Tor,

[53]

parsifal

[54]

Durch Mit - leid

wis - send,

der

rei

har - re sein,

den ich

er - kor.

[55] 54

[56]

[57]

42

[58a]

[58b]

60

34b

[59]

102 [60]

ne 42

42

[58]

-

x

-

Tor,

[58b]

34b

thematic guide

[59]

[60]

Wer ist gut?

[61]

Her - auf! [62]

[63]

[64]

[65]

[66]

[67]

[68]

103

[67]

parsifal [68] [68]

[69] [69]

Note on the Thematic Guide ‘The extent to which words can adequately translate the expressive quality and dramatic significance of themes and motifs is bound to vary very greatly, not only according to the changing contexts in which the material occurs, but also according to the predispositions of each individual listener.’ (Arnold Whittall, 1981) Only some of the names often used to describe the motifs in Parsifal have been assigned to the music examples above. The names given are largely those used in the foregoing articles: [1] Love Feast/Holy Supper [4] Kundry/Magic [5] Kundry’s Ride [7] Klingsor [11] Dove/Faith [22] Swan [25] Grail (Dresden Amen) [27] Good Friday Baptism [28] Good Friday Meadows [30] Grail Bells [40] Nature’s Healing [45] Amfortas [54] Prophesy [57] Parsifal [58] Herzeleide

104

Parsifal Stage Consecration Festival Play in three acts by Richard Wagner Libretto by the composer English translation by Lionel Salter Parsifal was first performed at the Festspielhaus, Bayreuth on 26th July 1882. It was first performed in the United States at the Metropolitan Opera, New York on 24th December 1903. It was first performed in Britain at the Royal Opera House on 2nd February 1914. The German libretto has been laid out in accordance with the one printed in vol. x of Wagner’s Gesammelte Schriften und Dichtungen (Collected Writings) prepared under the composer’s supervision and first printed in Leipzig in 1883. The English translation follows the same layout. The Characters Amfortas, son of Titurel and rulerbaritone of the Kingdom of the Grail Titurel, his fatherbass Gurnemanz, a veteran Knightbass of the Grail Parsifaltenor Klingsor, a magicianbass Kundrysoprano First and Second Knights tenor and bass Four Squires sopranos and tenors Six solo Flower Maidens sopranos Voice from Above alto Knights of the Grail, Youths and Boys, Flower Maidens The Grail castle and its environs

105

Vorspiel [1, 25, 11, 1e, 3, 41, 50, 9, 1g]

Erster Aufzug Ort der Handlung: Auf dem Gebiete und in der Burg der Gralshüter „Monsalvat“: Gegend im Charakter der nördlichen Gebirge des gotischen Spaniens. Wald, schattig und ernst, doch nicht düster. Eine Lichtung in der Mitte. Links aufsteigend wird der Weg zur Gralsburg angenommen. Der Mitte des Hintergrundes zu senkt sich der Boden zu einem tiefer gelegenen Waldsee hinab. Tagesanbruch. Gurnemanz, (rüstig greisenhaft), und zwei Knappen (von zartem Jünglingsalter) sind schlafend unter einem Baume gelagert. Von der linken Seite, wie von der Gralsburg her, ertönt der feierliche Morgenweckruf der Posaunen.[1a] Gurnemanz (erwachend und die Knappen rüttelnd)   He! Ho! Waldhüter ihr,   Schlafhüter mitsammen,   so wacht doch mindest am Morgen. (Die beiden Knappen springen auf.)[25]   Hört ihr den Ruf? Nun danket Gott,   daß ihr berufen, ihn zu hören! (Er senkt sich mit den Knappen auf die Knie und verrichtet mit ihnen gemeinschaftlich stumm das Morgengebet; [11, 25] sobald die Posaunen schweigen, erheben sie sich langsam.)        

Jetzt auf, ihr Knaben! Seht nach dem Bad. [12, 53] Zeit ist’s, des Königs dort zu harren.[45] Dem Siechbett, das ihn trägt, voraus[51] seh’ ich die Boten schon uns nahn’! 106

Prelude [1, 25, 11, 1e, 3, 41, 50, 9, 1g]

Act One Scene of the action: the domain and castle (‘Monsalvat’) of the Guardians of the Grail: landscape in the style of the northern mountains of Gothic Spain. Forest, shady and solemn but not gloomy, with a clearing in the centre. On the left a path rises to the castle. The background slopes down in the centre to a deep-set forest lake. Daybreak. Gurnemanz (elderly but vigorous) and two youthful squires are lying asleep under a tree. From the left, as if from the castle, sounds the solemn reveille on trombones.[1a] Gurnemanz (waking and rousing the squires)   Ho there! You guardians of the woods,   guardians of sleep as well,   at least wake at morn! (The two squires leap up.)[25]   Do you hear the call? Give thanks to God   that you are called to hear it! (He sinks to his knees with the squires and joins them in silent morning prayer [11, 25]; as the trombones cease they slowly rise.)        

Now up, my children! See to the bath. [12, 53] It is time to await the king there.[45] I see the heralds already approaching[51] in advance of the litter bearing him. 107

parsifal

(Zwei Ritter treten auf.)          

Heil euch! Wie geht’s Amfortas heut’?[45] Wohl früh verlangt’ er nach dem Bade; das Heilkraut, das Gawan mit List und Kühnheit ihm gewann, ich wähne, daß es Lind’rung schuf?

 2. Ritter   Das wähnest du, der doch alles weiß?[42]   Ihm kehrten sehrender nur   die Schmerzen bald zurück;   schlaflos von starken Bresten,   befahl er eifrig uns das Bad. Gurnemanz (das Haupt traurig senkend) Toren wir, auf Lind’rung da zu hoffen,[54]   wo einzig Heilung lindert! Nach allen Kräutern, allen Tränken forscht   und jagt weit durch die Welt;[42]   ihm hilft nur eines –   nur der Eine![54]  2. Ritter   So nenn’ uns denn! Gurnemanz (ausweichend)   Sorgt für das Bad! (Die beiden Knappen haben sich dem Hintergrunde zugewendet und blicken nach rechts.)  2. Knappe   Seht dort, die wilde Reiterin!  1. Knappe   Hei!   Wie fliegen der Teufelsmähre die Mähnen!  2. Ritter   Ha! Kundry dort? 108

act one

(Two knights enter.)          

Greetings to you! How fares Amfortas today?[45] Right early does he seek the bath: I assume the healing herb that Gawain won for him by craft and daring has brought some relief?

 2nd Knight   You assume this, you who know all?[42]   His pain soon returned   Even more searingly:   sleepless from his grievous infirmity,   he eagerly bade us prepare the bath. Gurnemanz (sadly bowing his head) We are fools to hope for relief[54]   when only recovery can relieve him! Search and hunt far and wide through the world   for every herb, every potion,[42]   there is but one thing can help him –   only one man![54]  2nd Knight   Tell us who he is! Gurnemanz (evasively)   See to the bath! (The two squires, who have returned to the background, look off right.)  2nd Squire   See there, the wild rider!  1st Squire   Hey!   How the mane of the devil’s mare is flying!  2nd Knight   Ha! Is Kundry there? 109

parsifal

 1. Ritter   Die bringt wohl wichtige Kunde?  2. Knappe   Die Mähre taumelt.[5]  1. Knappe   Flog sie durch die Luft?  2. Knappe   Jetzt kriecht sie am Boden hin.  1. Knappe   Mit dem Mähnen fegt sie das Moos. (Alle blicken lebhaft nach der rechten Seite.)[23]  2. Ritter   Da schwingt sich die Wilde herab. (Kundry stürzt hastig, fast taumelnd herein. Wilde Kleidung, hoch geschürzt: Gürtel von Schlangenhäuten lang herabhängend; schwarzes, in losen Zöpfen flatterndes Haar, tief braunrötliche Gesichtsfarbe; stechende schwarze Augen, zuweilen wild aufblitzend, öfters wie todesstarr und unbeweglich. [36] Sie eilt auf Gurnemanz zu und dringt ihm ein kleines Kristallgefäß auf.)[52] Kundry   Hier! Nimm du! Balsam… Gurnemanz   Woher brachtest du dies? Kundry   Von weiter her als du denken kannst.   Hilft der Balsam nicht,[43]   Arabia birgt   dann nichts mehr zu seinem Heil.   Fragt nicht weiter. (Sie wirft sich an den Boden.)  

Ich bin müde. 110

act one

 1st Knight   Will she bring momentous news?  2nd Squire   The mare is staggering.[5]  1st Squire   Has she flown through the air?  2nd Squire   Now she’s crawling on the ground.  1st Squire   And her mane is sweeping the moss. (They all eagerly look off right.)[23]  2nd Knight   The wild woman has flung herself off the horse. (Kundry rushes in, almost staggering. She is in wild garb, her skirts tucked up by a snakeskin girdle with long hanging cords; her black hair is loose and dishevelled, her complexion deep and ruddy-brown, her eyes dark and piercing, sometimes flashing wildly, more often lifeless and staring. [36] She hurries to Gurnemanz and presses on him a small crystal phial.)[52] Kundry   Here! Take this! – Balsam… Gurnemanz   Whence have you bought this? Kundry   From farther away than you can imagine.   Should the balsam not help[43]   then Arabia hides   nothing more to heal him.   Ask no further. (She throws herself on the ground.)  

I am weary. 111

parsifal

(Ein Zug von Knappen und Rittern, die Sänfte tragend und geleitend, in welcher Amfortas ausgestreckt liegt, gelangt, von links her, auf die Bühne. [45] Gurnemanz hat sich, von Kundry ab, sogleich den Ankommenden zugewendet.) Gurnemanz (während der Zug auf die Bühne gelangt)   Er naht, sie bringen ihn getragen.   Oh weh’! Wie trag’ ich’s im Gemüte,   in seiner Mannheit stolzer Blüte   des siegreichsten Geschlechtes Herrn[13]   als seines Siechtums Knecht zu seh’n![1f] (zu den Knappen)   Behutsam! Hört, der König stöhnt.

[10, 11]

(Die Knappen halten an und stellen das Siechbett nieder.) Amfortas Recht so! – Habt Dank! – Ein wenig Rast.   Nach wilder Schmerzensnacht[45]   nun Waldesmorgenpracht! [51, 40]   Im heil’gen See   wohl labt mich auch die Welle;   Es staunt das Weh,[45]   die Schmerzensnacht wird helle.[1h] Gawan!  2. Ritter   Herr! Gawan weilte nicht;   da seines Heilkrauts Kraft,   wie schwer er’s auch errungen,   doch deine Hoffnung trog, hat er auf neue Sucht sich fortgeschwungen. Amfortas   Ohn’ Urlaub? Möge das er sühnen,   daß schlecht er Gralsgebote hält![25]   Oh wehe ihm, dem trotzig Kühnen,   wenn er in Klingsors Schlingen fällt!   So breche keiner mir den Frieden! 112

act one

(A train of squires and knights appears from the left, carrying and escorting the litter on which lies Amfortas. [45] Gurnemanz has at once turned from Kundry to the approaching company.) Gurnemanz (as the train approaches the stage)   He is coming, they have to carry him.   Alas! How it grieves my heart   to see the liege lord of the most victorious race   in the pride and flower of his manhood[13]   fall a slave to his sickness![1f] (to the squires)   Carefully! Hear, the king groans.

[10, 11]

(The squires halt and set down the litter.) Amfortas (raising himself a little) That will do! – I thank you! – a brief rest.   After a night of wild distress,[45]   now the woodland splendour of the morning! [51, 40]   In the holy lake   may the waters refresh me,   ease my anguish[45]   and brighten my night of pain.[1h] Gawain!  2nd Knight   My lord Gawain did not stay;   for when the power of his healing herb,   won as it was with such difficulty,   yet disappointed your hope, he set forth at once upon a new search. Amfortas   Without permission! He will have to atone   for flaunting the Grail’s command![25]   Ah, woe to him, that defiant bold spirit,   should he fall into Klingsor’s snares!   Let none thus disturb my peace! 113

parsifal

     

Ich harre deß’, der mir beschieden:[54] „Durch Mitleid wissend“ – war’s nicht so?

Gurnemanz  

Uns sagtest du es so.

Amfortas   „Der reine Tor!“   Mich dünkt, ihn zu erkennen:[9]   dürft’ ich den Tod ihn nennen! Gurnemanz (indem er Amfortas das Fläschchen Kundrys überreicht)   Doch zuvor versuch’ es noch mit diesem![52] Amfortas (es betrachtend)   Woher dies heimliche Gefäß? Gurnemanz   Dir ward es aus Arabia hergeführt.[43] Amfortas   Und wer gewann es? Gurnemanz   Dort liegt’s, das wilde Weib.   Auf, Kundry! Komm’!

[5, 36]

(Kundry weigert sich und bleibt am Boden.) Amfortas   Du, Kundry?[36]   Muß ich dir nochmals danken,[39]   du rastlos scheue Magd?   Wohlan!   Den Balsam nun versuch’ ich noch:   es sei aus Dank für deine Treue. Kundry (unruhig und heftig am Boden sich bewegend)[36]   Nicht Dank! Haha! Was wird es helfen?   Nicht Dank! Fort, fort! Ins Bad! 114

act one

     

I await the one appointed to me;[54] ‘enlightened through compassion’ – was that not it?

Gurnemanz  

So you told us.

Amfortas   ‘The innocent fool!’   It seems to me that I know him:[9]   would that I might name him as Death! GURNEMANZ (handing Kundry’s phial to Amfortas)   But first try once more with this![52] Amfortas (examining it)   Whence came this strange vessel? Gurnemanz   It was brought you from Arabia.[43] Amfortas   And who obtained it? Gurnemanz   There she lies, the wild woman. [5, 36]   Up, Kundry! Come! (Kundry turns away and remains on the ground.) Amfortas   You, Kundry?[36]   Have I to thank you again,[39]   you restless, timorous maid?   Well then!   I will try your balsam now:   let this be thanks for your devotion. Kundry (writhing uneasily on the ground)[36]   Not thanks! Ha ha! How will that help?   Not thanks! Away to the bath! 115

parsifal

(Amfortas gibt das Zeichen zum Aufbruch. Der Zug entfernt sich nach dem tieferen Hintergrunde. Gurnemanz, schwermütig nachblickend, und Kundry, fortwährend auf dem Boden gelagert, sind zurückgeblieben. Knappen gehen ab und zu.) [45, 40]  3. Knappe (junger Mann)   He, du da!   Was liegst du dort wie ein wildes Tier? Kundry   Sind die Tiere hier nicht heilig?[25]  3. Knappe   Ja, doch ob heilig du,[40]   das wissen wir grad’ noch nicht.  4. Knappe (ebenfalls junger Mann)   Mit ihrem Zaubersaft, wähn’ ich,[5]   wird sie den Meister vollends verderben.[36] Gurnemanz   Hm! Schuf sie euch Schaden je?   Wann alles ratlos steht,   wie kämpfenden Brüdern in fernste Länder   Kunde sei zu entsenden,   und kaum ihr nur wißt, wohin?   Wer, ehe ihr euch nur besinnt,[5]   stürmt und fliegt dahin und zurück,   der Botschaft pflegend mit Treu und Glück?   Ihr nährt sie nicht, sie naht euch nie,   nichts hat sie mit euch gemein:   Doch wann’s in Gefahr der Hilfe gilt,   der Eifer führt sie schier durch die Luft,   die nie euch dann zum Danke ruft.   Ich wähne, ist dies Schaden,   so tät’ er euch gut geraten.  3. Knappe   Doch haßt sie uns;[40]   sieh’ nur, wie hämisch dort nach uns sie blickt! 116

act one

(Amfortas gives the signal to move on. The procession goes into the far background. Gurnemanz, gazing sadly after it, and Kundry, still stretched on the ground, remain. Squires come and go.)[45, 40]  3rd Squire (a young man)   Hey, you there!   Why do you lie there like a wild beast? Kundry   Are beasts not holy here?[25]  3rd Squire   Yes, but whether you are holy,[40]   we don’t yet know.  4th Squire (likewise a young man)   With her magic balm, I fancy,[5]   she’ll be the master’s ruin.[36] Gurnemanz   Hm! Did she ever harm you?   When you all stood perplexed,   not knowing how, and scarcely even where,   to send tidings to our brothers   fighting in far-off lands,   who, before you can even ponder,[5]   rushes and flies there and back,   bearing the message faithfully and successfully?   You do not look after her, she never approaches you,   she has nothing in common with you;   yet when help is wanted in danger,   her zeal speeds her through the air,   and she never looks to you for thanks.   I say if this be harm,   it works out well for you.  3rd Squire   But she hates us: just see[40]   how balefully she glares at us! 117

parsifal

 4. Knappe   Eine Heidin ist’s, ein Zauberweib.

[5, 36]

Gurnemanz   Ja, eine Verwünschte mag sie sein.[42]   Hier lebt sie heut’ –[60]   vielleicht erneu’t   zu büßen Schuld aus früh’rem Leben, [1a, 36]   die dorten ihr noch nicht vergeben.[1h]   Übt sie nun Buß’ in solchen Taten, [1a, 54]   die uns Ritterschaft zum Heil geraten,   gut tut sie dann und recht sicherlich,[11]   dienet uns und hilft auch sich.[39]  3. Knappe   So ist’s wohl auch jen’ ihre Schuld,[43]   die uns so manche Not gebracht? Gurnemanz (sich besinnend)   Ja, wann oft lange sie uns ferne blieb,   dann brach ein Unglück wohl herein.   Und lang’ schon kenn’ ich sie:   doch Titurel kennt sie noch länger. (zu den Knappen)              

Der fand, als er die Burg dort baute,[4] sie schlafend hier im Waldgestrüpp’, erstarrt, leblos, wie tot. So fand ich selbst sie letztlich wieder, als uns das Unheil kaum gescheh’n, das jener Böse über den Bergen so schmählich über uns gebracht.

(zu Kundry)      

He! Du! Hör mich und sag’: [25, 36] wo schweiftest damals du umher, als unser Herr den Speer verlor?[43]

(Kundry schweigt düster.) 118

act one

 4th Squire   She’s a heathen, a sorceress.

[5, 36]

Gurnemanz   Yes she may be under a curse.[42]   She lives here now – [60]   perhaps reincarnated,   to expiate some sin from an earlier life [1a, 36]   not yet forgiven there.[1h]   Now she makes atonement by such deeds [1a, 54]   as benefit our knightly order;   she has done good, beyond all doubt,[11]   serving us and thereby helping herself.[39]  3rd Squire   Then perhaps it was this guilt of hers[43]   which brought upon us such dire distress? Gurnemanz (recollecting)   Yes, when she remained for long away from us,   misfortune indeed befell us.   I have known her a long time,   But Titurel has known her longer yet. (to the squires)              

While he was building the castle there,[4] he found her asleep in the undergrowth in the wood, numb, lifeless, as if dead. So I myself again lately found her shortly after we suffered that misfortune which that evildoer beyond the mountains brought upon us so shamefully.

(to Kundry)      

Ho, you! Listen and say: [25, 36] whereabouts were you roaming when our master lost the Spear?[43]

(Kundry is gloomily silent.) 119

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Warum halfst du uns damals nicht?[4]

Kundry   Ich helfe nie. Veriter Knappe   Sie sagt’s da selbst.  3. Knappe   Ist sie so treu, so kühn in Wehr,   so sende sie nach dem verlor’nen Speer! Gurnemanz (düster)   Das ist ein andres:[1e]   jedem ist’s verwehrt. (mit größter Ergriffenheit)        

O wunden-wundervoller[1h] heiliger Speer! Ich sah dich schwingen[42] von unheiligster Hand!

(in Erinnerung sich verlierend)   Mit ihm bewehrt, Amfortas, allzu Kühner, [1e, 1h]   wer mochte dir es wehren,   den Zaub’rer zu beheeren?[13]   Schon nah’ dem Schloß wird uns der Held entrückt: [53, 4]   ein furchtbar schönes Weib hat ihn entzückt;   in seinen Armen liegt er trunken,   der Speer ist ihm entsunken. [9, 1e, 1h]   Ein Todesschrei! Ich stürm’ herbei:[36]   von dannen Klingsor lachend schwand,[4]   den heil’gen Speer hatt’ er entwandt.[1i]   Des Königs Flucht gab kämpfend ich Geleite;[9]   doch eine Wunde brannt’ ihm in der Seite:[1e]   die Wunde ist’s, die nie sich schließen will.[1i] (Der erste und zweite Knappe kommen vom See her zurück.)[45] 120

act one

 

Why did you not help us then?[4]

Kundry   I never help.  4th Squire  

She says so herself.

 3rd Squire   If she is so loyal, so bold in fighting,   then send her after the missing Spear! Gurnemanz (gloomily)   That is quite different:[1e]   it is forbidden to all. (with deep emotion)        

O wondrous-wounding[1h] hallowed Spear! I saw thee wielded[42] by unhallowed hand!

(absorbed in recollection)   All too daring Amfortas, thus armed, [1e, 1h]   who could have prevented you   from vanquishing the sorcerer?[13]   Hard by the keep our hero was enticed away: [53, 4]   a woman of fearsome beauty bewitched him;   in her arms he lay intoxicated,   letting fall the Spear. [9, 1e, 1h]   A deathly cry! I rushed in:[36]   Klingsor, laughing, had vanished from there,[4]   having stolen the holy Spear.[1i]   Fighting, I covered the king’s flight;[9]   but a wound burned in his side;[1e]   this wound it is which will never heal.[1i] (The first and second squires return from the lake.)[45] 121

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 3. Knappe (zu Gurnemanz)   So kanntest du Klingsor? Gurnemanz (zu den zurückkommenden beiden Knappen)   Wie geht’s dem König?  1. Knappe   Ihn frischt das Bad.[40]  2. Knappe  

Dem Balsam wich das Weh’.

Gurnemanz (für sich)   Die Wunde ist’s, die nie sich schließen will.[45] (Der dritte und vierte Knappe hatten sich zuletzt schon zu Gurnemanz’ Füßen niedergesetzt, die beiden anderen gesellen sich jetzt gleicherweise zu ihnen unter dem großen Baum.)  3. Knappe   Doch, Väterchen, sag’ und lehr’ uns fein:   Du kanntest Klingsor – wie mag das sein?

[45, 60]

Gurnemanz   Titurel, der fromme Held,[12]   der kannt ihn wohl.   Denn ihm, da wilder Feinde List und Macht   des reinen Glaubens Reich bedrohten,   ihn neigten sich in heilig ernster Nacht[14]   dereinst des Heilands selige Boten:[25]   daraus er trank beim letzten Liebesmahle,[1]   das Weihgefäß, die heilig edle Schale,[25]   darein am Kreuz sein göttlich Blut auch floß, [8, 1f]   dazu den Lanzenspeer, der dies vergoß –[1h]   der Zeugengüter höchstes Wundergut –[14]   das gaben sie in uns’res Königs Hut.   Dem Heiltum baute er das Heiligtum.[25]   Die seinem Dienst ihr zugesindet   auf Pfaden, die kein Sünder findet,   ihr wißt, daß nur dem Reinen   vergönnt ist sich zu einen 122

act one

 3rd Squire (to Gurnemanz)   Then you knew Klingsor? Gurnemanz (to the two remaining squires)   How fares the king?  1st Squire   The bath has refreshed him.[40]  2nd Squire  

The balsam has eased the pain.

Gurnemanz (to himself)   This wound it is which will never heal![45] (The third and fourth squires have already sat down at Gurnemanz’s feet; the other two join them under the great tree.)  3rd Squire   But father, speak and tell us plainly:   you knew Klingsor – how could that be?

[45, 60]

Gurnemanz   Titurel, pious hero,[12]   knew him well.   For to him, when savage foes’ craft and might   threatened the realm of the true faith, the   Saviour’s angel messengers[14]   once came down in holy, solemn night:[25]   the sacred vessel, the precious holy Cup[1]   from which He drank at the Love Feast,[25]   in which too His divine blood flowed from the Cross, [8, 1f]   and with it that same spear which shed it –[1h]   the supremely wondrous wealth of these treasured witnesses –[14]   they gave into our king’s charge.   For these holy relics he built this sanctuary.[25]   You who were called into its service   by paths denied to sinners,   you know that it is given   only to the pure to become one of the brothers 123

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den Brüdern, die zu höchsten Rettungswerken des Grales Wunderkräfte stärken. D’rum blieb es dem, nach dem ihr fragt, verwehrt, Klingsor’n, wie hart ihn Müh’ auch drob beschwert. Jenseits im Tale war er eingesiedelt;[7] darüberhin liegt üpp’ges Heidenland: unkund blieb mir, was dorten er gesündigt,[4] doch wollt’ er büßen nun, ja heilig werden. Ohnmächtig, in sich selbst die Sünde zu ertöten, an sich legt’ er die Frevlerhand, die nun, dem Grale zugewandt, verachtungsvoll deß’ Hüter von sich stieß. Darob die Wut nun Klingsor’n unterwies, wie seines schmähl’chen Opfers Tat ihm gäbe zu bösem Zauber Rat;[36] den fand er nun. [60, 7] Die Wüste schuf er sich zum Wonnegarten, [10, 18] d’rinn wachsen teuflisch holde Frauen; dort will des Grales Ritter er erwarten zu böser Lust und Höllengrauen:[36] wen er verlockt, hat er erworben:[18] schon viele hat er uns verdorben. [36, 7] Da Titurel, in hohen Alters Mühen, dem Sohn die Herrschaft hier verliehen:[25] Amfortas ließ es da nicht ruh’n,[53] der Zauberplag’ Einhalt zu tun. Das wißt ihr, wie es dort sich fand:[4] der Speer ist nun in Klingsors Hand; [1h, 36] kann er selbst Heilige mit dem verwunden,[4] den Gral auch wähnt’ er fest schon uns entwunden!

(Kundry hat sich, in wütender Unruhe, oft heftig umgewendet.)  [7, 1h]  4. Knappe   Vor allem nun: der Speer kehr’ uns zurück!  3. Knappe   Ha! Wer ihn brächt’, ihn wär’s zu Ruhm und Glück! 124

act one

  to whom the Grail’s mighty power grants   the strength to work divine salvation.   Therefore it was forbidden to Klingsor, about whom   you ask, though he expended much effort on it.   Yonder in the valley he lived secluded;[7]   beyond lies a rich heathen land:   I never knew of what sin he was guilty there,[4]   but he then wished to atone and indeed become sanctified.   Powerless to stifle the sin within him,   on himself he laid dastardly hands   which he then turned towards the Grail,   from which the guardian drove him out in scorn.   At which, wrath taught Klingsor   how his deed of shameful sacrifice   could give him knowledge of evil magic;[36]   this he now found. [60, 7]   He transformed the desert into a magic garden [10, 18]   in which bloomed women of infernal beauty;   there he awaits the knights of the Grail   to lure them to sinful joys and hell’s damnation:[36]   he gains controls of those he entices;[18]   already many of us he has ruined. [36, 7]   When Titurel, much burdened with age,   had conferred sovereignty on his son.[25]   Amfortas could not wait[53]   to subdue this plague of sorcery.   You know what happened there;[4]   the Spear is now in Klingsor’s hands: [1h, 36]   if he can wound even holy men with it,[4]   he fancies the Grail is already lost to us! (Kundry has been turning violently back and forth in furious agitation.) [7, 1h]  4th Squire   Before all else now, the Spear must be ours again!  3rd Squire   Ha! He who brought it back would win fame and joy! 125

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Gurnemanz   Vor dem verwaisten Heiligtum [60, 25]   in brünst’gem Beten lag Amfortas,[8]   ein Rettungszeichen bang erflehend;[1e]   ein sel’ger Schimmer da entfloß dem Grale;[60]   ein heilig’ Traumgesicht[25]   nun deutlich zu ihm spricht   durch hell erschauter Wortezeichen Male;[1a]   „Durch Mitleid wissend,[54]   der reine Tor;   harre sein,   den ich erkor.“ Die vier Knappen (In großer Ergriffenheit)[54]   „Durch Mitleid wissend,   der reine Tor…“ (Vom See her vernimmt man Geschrei und das Rufen der Ritter und Knappen. Gurnemanz und die vier Knappen fahren auf und wenden sich erschrocken um.) [57, 22, 56] Knappen   Weh’! Weh’! Ritter  

Hoho!

Knappen   Auf! Ritter  

Wer ist der Frevler?

(Ein wilder Schwan flattert matten Fluges vom See daher.) Gurnemanz   Was giebt’s?  4. Knappe  

Dort! 126

act one

Gurnemanz   Before the looted sanctuary [60, 25]   Amfortas lay in fervent prayer,[8]   anxiously imploring some sign of deliverance:[1e]   a blessed radiance emitted from the Grail;[60]   a holy vision[25]   clearly spoke to him   this message in words of fire:[1a]   ‘Enlightened through compassion,[54]   the innocent fool;   wait for him,   the appointed one.’ .

The Four Squires (deeply moved)[54]   ‘Enlightened through compassion,   the innocent fool…’ (From the lake are heard shouts and cries from the knights and squires. Gurnemanz and the four squires start up and turn in alarm.)  [57, 22, 56] Squires   Alas! Alas! Knights  

Hoho!

Squires   Up! Knights   Who is the miscreant? (A wild swan flutters from over the lake.) Gurnemanz   What is it?  4th Squire  

There! 127

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 3. Knappe  

Hier!

 2. Knappe  

Ein Schwan!

 4. Knappe   Ein wilder Schwan!  3. Knappe  

Er ist verwundet![10]

Alle Ritter und Knappen   Ha! Wehe! Wehe! Gurnemanz  

Wer schoß den Schwan?

(Der Schwan sinkt, nach mühsamem Fluge, matt zu Boden; der zweite Ritter zieht ihm den Pfeil aus der Brust.)  1. Ritter   Der König grüßte ihn als gutes Zeichen,[22]   als überm See kreiste der Schwan,   da flog ein Pfeil. (Knappen und Ritter führen Parsifal herein.) Ritter   Der war’s! Knappen   Der schoß!   Dies der Bogen! (auf Parsifals Bogen hinweisend)  2. Ritter (den Pfeil aufweisend)   Hier der Pfeil, den seinen gleich. Gurnemanz (zu Parsifal)   Bist du’s, der diesen Schwan erlegte?[56] 128

act one

 3rd Squire  

Here!

 2nd Squire  

A swan!

 4th Squire   A wild swan!  3rd squire  

It’s wounded![10]

All Knights and Squires   Alas! Alas! Gurnemanz   Who shot the swan? (The swan, after a laboured flight, falls lifeless to the ground exhausted: the second knight draws an arrow from its breast.)  1st Knight   The king hailed it as a happy omen[22]   when the swan flew over the lake;   then an arrow flew… (Knights and squires lead in Parsifal.) Knights   It was he! Squires   He shot it!   Here’s his bow! (indicating Parsifal’s bow) 2nd knight (producing the arrow)   Here’s the arrow, like his. Gurnemanz (to Parsifal)   Are you the one who killed this swan?[56] 129

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Parsifal   Gewiß! Im Fluge treff’ ich, was fliegt![57] Gurnemanz   Du tatest das? Und bangt’ es dich nicht vor der Tat?[56] Knappen und Ritter   Strafe dem Frevler![10] Gurnemanz   Unerhörtes Werk!   Du konntest morden, hier, im heil’gen Walde,   deß’ stiller Friede dich umfing?   Des Haines Tiere nahten dir nicht zahm?[11]   Grüßten dich freundlich und fromm?[40]   Aus den Zweigen was sangen die Vöglein dir?   Was tat dir der treue Schwan?   Sein Weibchen zu suchen flog er auf,[22]   mit ihm zu kreisen über dem See,   den so er herrlich weihte zum Bad.[25]   Dem stauntest du nicht? Dich lockt’ es nur   zu wild kindischem Bogengeschoß?[57]   Er war uns hold: was ist er nun dir?[3x]   Hier – schau’ her! – hier trafst du ihn,   da starrt noch das Blut, matt hängen die Flügel,   das Schneegefieder dunkel befleckt –   gebrochen das Aug’, siehst du den Blick? (Parsifal hat Gurnemanz mit wachsender Ergriffenheit zugehört: jetzt zerbricht er seinen Bogen und schleudert die Pfeile von sich.)  

Wirst deiner Sündentat du inne?

(Parsifal führt die Hand über die Augen.)   Sag’, Knab’, erkennst du deine große Schuld?[1e]   Wie konntest du sie begeh’n? Parsifal  

Ich wußte sie nicht.[43] 130

act one

Parsifal   Indeed! Whatever flies I can hit in flight![57] Gurnemanz   You did this? Are you not worried by the deed?[56] Squires and Knights   Punish the offender![10] Gurnemanz   Unprecedented act!   You could murder, here in the holy forest,   where tranquil peace surrounded you?   Did not the woodland beasts tamely come near[11]   and innocently greet you as friends?[40]   What did the birds sing to you from the branches?   What harm did that faithful swan do you?   Seeking his mate, he flew up[22]   to circle with it over the lake   and gloriously to hallow the bath.[25]   That did not impress you? It but tempted you   to a wild childish shot from your bow?[57]   He was sacred to us: what is he now to you?[3x]   Here – look! – you struck him,   the blood still congealing, the wings drooping lifeless,   the snowy plumage stained dark,   the eyes glazed – do you see his look? (Parsifal has followed Gurnemanz with growing emotion; now he breaks his bow and hurls his arrows away.)  

Now do you appreciate your misdeed?

(Parsifal passes his hand over his eyes.)   Say, boy, do you realize your great guilt?[1e]   How could you commit this crime? Parsifal  

I didn’t know.[43] 131

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Gurnemanz   Wo bist du her?[57] Parsifal  

Das weiß ich nicht.

Gurnemanz   Wer ist dein Vater? Parsifal  

Das weiß ich nicht.[1e]

Gurnemanz   Wer sandte dich dieses Weges? Parsifal  

Das weiß ich nicht.[43]

Gurnemanz   Dein Name denn? Parsifal   Ich hatte viele,[58]   doch weiß ich ihrer keinen mehr. Gurnemanz   Das weißt du alles nicht?[57] (für sich)   So dumm wie den   erfand bisher ich Kundry nur! (zu den Knappen, deren sich immer mehr versammelt haben)   Jetzt geht!   Versäumt den König im Bade nicht! Helft![45] (Die Knappen heben den toten Schwan auf eine Bahre von frischen Zweigen und entfernen sich mit ihm dann nach dem See zu. [45, 22] Schließlich blieben Gurnemanz, Parsifal und – abseits – Kundry allein zurück. Gurnemanz wendet sich wieder zu Parsifal.) [25, 22, 58] 132

act one

Gurnemanz   Where are you from?[57] Parsifal  

I don’t know.

Gurnemanz   Who is your father? Parsifal  

I don’t know.[1e]

Gurnemanz   Who sent you this way? Parsifal  

I don’t know[43]

Gurnemanz   Your name, then? Parsifal   I had many,[58]   but I know none of them any more. Gurnemanz   You know nothing of anything?[57] (aside)   Such a dullard   I never found before, save Kundry! (to the squires, who have assembled in increasing numbers)   Now go!   Do not neglect the king in the bath! – Help here![45] (The squires reverently lift the dead swan onto a bier of fresh branches and move away with it towards the lake. [45, 22] At length only Gurnemanz, Parsifal and – apart – Kundry remain behind. Gurnemanz turns back to Parsifal.) [25, 22, 58] 133

parsifal

  Nun sag’! Nichts weißt du, was ich dich frage:   jetzt meld’, was du weißt;   denn etwas mußt du doch wissen. Parsifal   Ich hab’ eine Mutter, Herzeleide sie heißt.[58]   Im Wald und auf wilder Aue waren wir heim.[57] Gurnemanz   Wer gab dir den Bogen? Parsifal   Den schuf ich mir selbst,   vom Forst die wilden Adler zu verscheuchen. Gurnemanz   Doch adelig scheinst du selbst und hochgeboren:   warum nicht ließ deine Mutter   bessere Waffen dich lehren?[57] (Parsifal schweigt.) Kundry (welche während der Erzählung des Gurnemanz von Amfortas Schicksal oft in wütender Unruhe heftig sich umgewendet hatte, nun aber, immer in der Waldecke gelagert, den Blick scharf auf Parsifal gerichtet hat, ruft jetzt, da Parsifal schweigt, mit rauher Stimme daher:)   Den Vaterlosen gebar die Mutter,   als im Kampf erschlagen Gamuret;[58]   vor gleichem frühen Heldentod   den Sohn zu wahren, waffenfremd   in Öden erzog sie ihn zum Toren –   die Törin! [54, 36] (sie lacht) Parsifal (der mit jäher Aufmerksamkeit zugehört hat)   Ja! Und einst am Waldessaume vorbei,[59]   auf schönen Tieren sitzend,   kamen glänzende Männer;   ihnen wollt’ ich gleichen:   sie lachten und jagten davon. 134

act one

  Now say! You know nothing I ask you:   tell me what you do know,   for you must surely know something. Parsifal   I have a mother, whose name is Herzeleide.[58]   The woods and wild moors were our home.[57] Gurnemanz   Who gave you the bow? Parsifal   I made it myself   to scare the savage eagles from the forest. Gurnemanz   But you yourself seem eagle-like and nobly born.   Why did your mother not let you   learn to use better weapons?[57] (Parsifal is silent.) Kundry (who during Gurnemanz’s recital of the fate of Amfortas has been violently writhing in furious agitation, now, still lying in the undergrowth, eyes Parsifal keenly and, as he is silent, hoarsely calls:)   His mother bore him fatherless,   for Gamuret was slain in battle![58]   To preserve her son from a similar   untimely hero’s death, she brought him up   in the desert to folly, a stranger to arms –   the fool! [54, 36] (she laughs) Parsifal (who has listened to her with sudden attention)   Yes! and once, along the forest’s edge,[59]   came a glittering array of men   mounted on fine creatures:   I wanted to be like one of them;   they laughed and galloped off. 135

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  Nun lief ich nach, doch konnt’ ich sie nicht erreichen;[57]   durch Wildnisse kam ich, bergauf, talab;[59]   oft ward es Nacht, dann wieder Tag;   mein Bogen mußte mir frommen   gegen Wild und große Männer… (Kundry hat sich erhoben und ist zu den Männern getreten.) Kundry   Ja! Schächer und Riesen traf seine Kraft;   den freislichen Knaben lernten sie fürchten.[57] Parsifal (verwundert)   Wer fürchtet mich? Sag’! Kundry  

Die Bösen!

Parsifal   Die mich bedrohten, waren sie bös’?[5] (Gurnemanz lacht)   Wer ist gut?[60] Gurnemanz (wieder ernst)   Deine Mutter, der du entlaufen[58a]   und die um dich sich nun härmt und grämt. Kundry   Zu End’ ihr Gram: seine Mutter ist tot.[5] Parsifal (in furchtbaren Schrecken)   Tot? Meine Mutter? Wer sagt’s?[36] Kundry   Ich ritt vorbei und sah sie sterben:[5]   dich Toren hieß sie mich grüßen. (Parsifal springt wütend auf Kundry zu und faßt sie bei der Kehle. Gurnemanz hält ihn zurück.)[57] 136

act one

  I ran after them but I couldn’t overtake them;[57]   through deserts I wandered, up hill and down dale;[59]   often night fell, and again came day;   my bow had to defend me   against wild beasts or giants… (Kundry has risen and moved towards the men.) Kundry   Yes! Robbers and giants knew his strength:   they learnt to fear the fierce boy.[57] ParSifal (in surprise)   Who fears me? Say! Kundry  

The wicked!

Parsifal   They who threatened me, were they wicked?[5] (Gurnemanz laughs)   Who is good?[60] Gurnemanz (serious again)   Your mother, whom you deserted,[58a]   and who now frets and grieves for you. Kundry   She grieves no more: his mother is dead.[5] Parsifal (in fearful alarm)   Dead? My mother? Who says so?[36] Kundry   As I rode by I saw her dying:[5]   she bade me greet you, fool. (Parsifal springs furiously at Kundry and seizes her by the throat. Gurnemanz restrains him.)[57] 137

parsifal

Gurnemanz   Verrückter Knabe! Wieder Gewalt? (Nachdem Gurnemanz Kundry befreit, steht Parsifal wie erstarrt.)    

Was tat dir das Weib? Es sagte wahr; denn nie lügt Kundry, doch sah sie viel.

Parsifal (der in ein heftiges Zittern gerät)   Ich verschmachte! (Kundry ist sogleich, als sie Parsifals Zustand gewahrte, nach einem Waldquell geeilt, bringt jetzt Wasser in einem Horne, besprengt damit zunächst Parsifal und reicht ihm dann zu trinken.) Gurnemanz   So recht! So nach des Grales Gnade:[26]   das Böse bannt, wer’s mit Gutem vergilt. Kundry (düster)   Nie tu’ ich gutes; nur Ruhe will ich,[52b]   nur Ruhe, ach! der Müden.[4] (Sie wendet sich traurig ab, und während Gurnemanz sich väterlich um Parsifal bemüht, schleppt sie sich, von beiden unbeachtet, einem Waldgebüsch zu.)  

Schlafen! O, daß mich keiner wecke!

(scheu auffahrend)  

Nein! Nicht schlafen! Grausen faßt mich![36]

(Sie verfällt in heftiges Zittern; dann läßt sie die Arme matt sinken, neigt das Haupt tief und schwankt matt weiter.)  

Machtlose Wehr! Die Zeit ist da.[7]

(Vom See her gewahrt man Bewegung und endlich dem im Hintergrunde sich heimwendenden Zug der Ritter und Knappen mit der Sänfte des Amfortas.)  

Schlafen – schlafen – ich muß.[4] 138

act one

Gurnemanz   Insane youth! Again violent? (After Gurnemanz has freed Kundry, Parsifal stands as if dazed.)    

What has the woman done to you? She spoke the truth; for Kundry never lies, though she has seen much.

Parsifal (seized with violent trembling)   I am fainting! (Kundry, perceiving Parsifal’s condition, at once hastens to a spring in the wood and now brings water in a horn, sprinkles Parsifal with it and then gives it to him to drink.) Gurnemanz   Well done, according to the Grail’s mercy:[26]   they vanquish evil who requite it with good. Kundry (gloomily)   I never do good; I long only for rest,[52b]   only rest in my weariness.[4] (She turns away sadly and while Gurnemanz tends Parsifal in a fatherly way, she creeps unobserved by them towards a thicket in the wood.)  

To sleep! O that no one would wake me!

(starting in fear)  

No! Not sleep! Horror seizes me![36]

(She falls into a violent trembling, then lets her arms and legs drop wearily and totters away)  

In vain to resist. The time has come.[7]

(By the lake a movement is seen, and at length in the background the train of knights and squires returning home with Amfortas’s litter.)  

Sleep – sleep – I must.[4] 139

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(Sie sinkt hinter dem Gebüsch zusammen und bleibt von jetzt an unbemerkt.) Gurnemanz   Vom Bade kehrt der König heim;[29]   hoch steht die Sonne;[25]   nun laß’ zum frommen Mahle mich dich geleiten:   denn bist du rein,   wird nun der Gral dich tränken und speisen. (Er hat Parsifals Arm sich sanft um den Nacken gelegt und dessen Leib mit seinem eigenen Arme umschlungen; so geleitet er ihn bei sehr allmählichem Schreiten.) Parsifal   Wer ist der Gral?[25] Gurnemanz   Das sagt mich nicht;   doch, bist du selbst zu ihm erkoren,   bleibt dir die Kunde unverloren.   Und sieh’!   Mich dünkt, daß ich dich recht erkannt:[29]   kein Weg führt zu ihm durch das Land,   und niemand könnte ihn beschreiten,   den er nicht selber möcht’ geleiten. Parsifal   Ich schreite kaum,   doch wähn’ ich mich schon weit. Gurnemanz   Du siehst, mein Sohn,   zum Raum wird hier die Zeit. (Allmählich, während Gurnemanz und Parsifal zu schreiten scheinen, hat sich die Szene bereits immer merklicher verwandelt; es verschwindet so der Wald, und in Felsenwänden öffnet sich ein Torweg, welcher die beiden jetzt einschließt. [39, 25, 41, 50, 1a, 30] Durch aufsteigende gemauerte Gänge führend, hat die Szene sich vollständig verwandelt. Gurnemanz und Parsifal treten jetzt in den mächtigen Saal der Gralsburg ein.) 140

act one

(She sinks down behind the bushes and is not seen further.) Gurnemanz   The king is returning from the bath;[29]   the sun stands high;[25]   now let me lead you to our hallowed feast   for if you are pure, the Grail   will be meat and drink to you. (He has gently taken Parsifal’s arm round his own neck and put his own arm around the boy’s body: in this way he leads him with very slow steps.) Parsifal   Who is the Grail?[25] Gurnemanz   That cannot be said;   but if you yourself are called to its service   that knowledge will not remain withheld.   And see!   I think I know you aright;[29]   no earthly path leads to it,   and none could tread it   whom the Grail itself had not guided. Parsifal   I scarcely tread,   yet seem already to have come far. Gurnemanz   You see, my son,   time here becomes space. (Gradually, while Gurnemanz and Parsifal appear to walk, the scene has changed more perceptibly: the woods have disappeared, and in the rocky walls a gateway has opened, which closes behind them.[39, 25, 41, 50, 1a, 30] The way leading upwards through walls of rock, the scene has entirely changed. Gurnemanz and Parsifal now enter the mighty hall of the castle of the Grail.) 141

parsifal

Gurnemanz (Sich zu Parsifal wendend, der wie verzaubert steht)   Nun achte wohl und laß’ mich seh’n;[29]   bist du ein Tor und rein, welch’ Wissen dir auch mag beschieden sein. (Szene: Säulenhalle mit Kuppelgewölbe, den Speiseraum überdeckend. Auf beiden Seiten des Hintergrundes werden die Türen geöffnet: von rechts schreiten die Ritter des Grales herein und reihen sich um die Speisetafeln.) [25, 30] Die Grals Ritter   Zum letzten Liebesmahle   gerüstet Tag für Tag, (Ein Zug von Knappen durchschreitet schnelleren Schrittes die Szene nach hinten zu.)    

gleich ob zum letzten Male es heut’ uns letzen mag.

(Ein zweiter Zug von Knappen durchschreiten den Saal) Wer guter Tat sich freu’t,   ihm wird des Mahl erneu’t:   der Labung darf er nah’n,   die hehrste Gab’ empfah’n. (Die versammelten Ritter stellen sich an den Speisetafeln auf. Hier wird von Knappen und dienenden Brüdern durch die entgegengesetzte Türe Amfortas auf einer Sänfte hereingetragen; vor ihm schreiten die vier Knappen, welche den verhängten Schrein des Grales tragen. Dieser Zug begibt sich nach der Mitte des Hintergrundes, wo ein erhöhtes Ruhebett aufgerichtet steht, auf welches Amfortas von der Sänfte herab niedergelassen wird; hiervor steht ein länglicher Steintisch, auf welchen die Knaben den verhängten Gralsschrein hinstellen.) [41, 29, 25] Jünglinge (aus der mittleren Höhe der Kuppel)   Den sündigen Welten,   mit tausend Schmerzen,   wie einst sein Blut geflossen – 142

act one

Gurnemanz (turning to Parsifal, who stands as if bewitched)   Now observe well, and let me observe,[29]   if you are a fool and innocent, what knowledge may be divulged to you. (Scene: a pillared hall with a vaulted dome over the feast-chamber. On both sides at the far end the doors are opened: the knights of the Grail enter from the right and range themselves by the feast-tables.)  [25, 30] Knights of the Grail   At this latest Love Feast,   prepared day after day, (A procession of squires passes rapidly across the scene into the background.)    

as on the last occasion may it refresh us today.

(A second procession of squires crosses the hall) The meal will renew him   who delights in doing good:   may he derive comfort,   and receive the supreme gift. (The assembled knights station themselves at the tables. From the door Amfortas is carried on a litter by squires and serving brothers: before him walk the four squires bearing the covered shrine of the Grail. This procession moves to the centre background, where stands a raised couch on which Amfortas is set down from the litter: before it is an oblong stone altar on which the squires place the covered [41, 29, 25] shrine of the Grail.)

Youths (from halfway up the dome)   As once His blood flowed   with countless pains   for the sinful world – 143

parsifal

         

dem Erlösungshelden sei nun mit freudigem Herzen mein Blut vergossen. Der Leib, den er zur Sühn’ uns bot, er lebt in uns durch seinen Tod.

Knaben (aus der äußersten Höhe der Kuppel)   Der Glaube lebt;[11]   die Taube schwebt,   des Heilands holder Bote.   Der für euch fließt,   des Weines genießt   und nehmt vom Lebensbrote! (Nachdem alle ihre Stelle eingenommen haben und ein allgemeiner Stillstand eingetreten war, vernimmt man vom tiefsten Hintergrunde her aus einer gewölbten Nische hinter dem Ruhebette des Amfortas die Stimme des alten Titurel wie aus einem Grabe heraufdringend.) Titurel   Mein Sohn Amfortas, bist du am Amt?   Soll ich den Gral heut’ noch erschaun’ und leben?   Muß ich sterben, vom Retter ungeleitet?[46] Amfortas   Wehe! Wehe mir der Qual![41]   Mein Vater, o! noch einmal[46]   verrichte du das Amt!   Lebe, leb’ – und laß’ mich sterben! Titurel   Im Grabe leb’ ich durch des Heilands Huld:   zu schwach doch bin ich, ihm zu dienen.   Du büß’ im Dienste deine Schuld!   Enthüllet den Gral! Amfortas   Nein! Laßt ihn unenthüllt! Oh!   Daß keiner, keiner diese Qual ermißt,   die mir der Anblick weckt, der euch entzückt!   Was ist die Wunde, ihrer schmerzen Wut, 144

[46, 25]

[46, 36]

act one

         

now with joyful heart let my blood be shed for the great Redeemer. His body, that he gave us strength to purge our sin, lives in us through His death.

Boys (from the summit of the dome)   The faith endures,[11]   the dove, the Saviour’s   loving messenger, hovers.   Drink the wine   poured out for you   and take the bread of life! (When all have taken their places, and after a complete silence, the voice of Titurel is heard in the extreme background from a vaulted niche behind Amfortas’s couch, as if from a tomb.) Titurel   Amfortas, my son, are you in your place?   Shall I again today look on the Grail and live?   Must I die without my Saviour’s guidance?[46] Amfortas   Alas! Woe is me for my pain![41]   My father, oh once more[46]   serve the Office!   Live, live – and let me die! Titurel   Within the grave I still live by the Saviour’s grace, [46, 25]   But I am too feeble to serve Him.   In His service you may expiate your sin!   Uncover the Grail! Amfortas   No! Leave it covered! Oh!   May no man, no man undergo this torture   wakened in me by the sight which transports you!   What is the wound, its raging pain, 145

[46, 36]

parsifal

  gegen die Not, die Höllenpein,   zu diesem Amt verdammt zu sein!   Wehvolles Erbe, dem ich verfallen,[46]   ich, einz’ger Sünder unter allen,   des höchsten Heiligtums zu pflegen,[25]   auf Reine herabzuflehen seinen Segen![36]   O Strafe, Strafe ohnegleichen[41]   des – ach! – gekränkten Gnadenreichen![36]   Nach ihm, nach seinem Weihegruße,[25]   muß sehnlich mich’s verlangen;   aus tiefster Seele Heilesbuße[41]   zu ihm muß ich gelangen.   Die Stunde naht:   ein Lichtstrahl senkt sich auf das heilige Werk:[25]   die Hülle fällt.   Des Weihgefäßes göttlicher Gehalt [1a, e]   erglüht mit leuchtender Gewalt;   durchzückt von seligsten Genusses Schmerz,   des heiligsten Blutes Quell   fühl’ ich sich gießen in mein Herz:[1i]   des eig’nen sündigen Blutes Gewell’[45]   in wahnsinniger Flucht   muß mir zurück dann fließen,   in die Welt der Sündensucht   mit wilder Scheu sich ergießen;[4]   von neuem sprengt es das Tor,[1e]   daraus es nun strömt hervor,   hier, durch die Wunde, der seinen gleich,   geschlagen von desselben Speeres Streich,[41]   der dort dem Erlöser die Wunde stach,   aus der mit blut’gen Tränen   der Göttliche weint’ ob der Menschheit Schmach,   in Mitleids heiligem Sehnen –   und aus der nun mir, an heiligster Stelle,[25]   dem Pfleger göttlichster Güter,   des Erlösungsbalsams Hüter,   das heiße Sündenblut entquillt, [36, 4]   ewig erneu’t aus des Sehnens Quelle,[7x] 146

act one

  against the distress, the torments of hell,   in this Office – to be accursed!   Woeful inheritance to which I am called,[46]   that I, the only sinner of all my people,   must tend what is supremely sacred,[25]   invoking its blessing on the righteous![36]   O punishment, unparalleled punishment[41]   of – ah! – the wronged Lord of mercy![36]   For Him, for His holy greeting,[25]   must I ardently yearn;   by the repentance of my inmost soul[41]   must I reach Him.   The hour draws near:   a ray of light descends upon the holy vessel:[25]   the covering falls.   The divine contents of the sacred chalice [1a, e]   glow with radiant glory;   thrilled by the agony of ecstasy.   I feel the fount of divine blood   pour into my heart:[1i]   the ebb of my own sinful blood[45]   in mad tumult   must surge back into me,   to gush in wild terror   into the world of sinful passion:[4]   it breaks open the door anew[1e]   and now rushes out   here, through the wound, like His,   struck by a blow from that same Spear[41]   which pierced the Saviour,   from whose wound the Holy One   wept tears of blood for man’s disgrace   in the heavenly yearning of pity –   and now from my wound, in holiest Office,[25]   the custodian of the most divine treasure   and guardian of its redeeming balm   spills forth the fevered blood of sin, [36, 4]   ever renewed from the fount of longing[7x] 147

parsifal

             

das, ach! keine Büßung je mir stillt! Erbarmen! Erbarmen! [36, 34a, b] Du Allerbarmer! Ach, Erbarmen![3] Nimm mir mein Erbe, schließe die Wunde, daß heilig ich sterbe, rein Dir gesunde![9]

(Er sinkt wie bewußtlos zurück.) Knaben und jünglinge (aus der mittleren Höhe)   „Durch Mitleid wissend,[54]   der reine Tor:   harre sein;   den ich erkor!“ Die Ritter   So ward es dir verhießen:[25]   harre getrost,   des Amtes walte heut’! Titurel   Enthüllet den Gral! (Amfortas erhebt sich langsam und mühevoll. Die Knaben nehmen die Decke vom goldnen Schreine, entnehmen ihm eine antike Kristallschale, von welcher sie ebenfalls eine Verhüllung hinwegnehmen, und setzen diese vor Amfortas hin.) [1f, e, h] Stimmen (aus der Höhe)   „Nehmet hin meinen Leib,[1]   nehmet hin mein Blut,   um uns’rer Liebe willen!“ (Während Amfortas andachtsvoll in stummen Gebet zu dem Kelche sich neigt, vebreitet sich eine immer dichtere Dämmerung über die Halle.) Knaben (aus der Höhe)   „Nehmet hin mein Blut,   nehmet hin meinen Leib,   auf daß ihr mein gedenkt!“ 148

act one

             

that – ah! – no repentance of mine can ever still! Mercy! Mercy! [36, 34a, b] All-merciful One, have mercy on me![3] Take away my inheritance, heal my wound, that I may die holy, pure and whole for Thee![9]

(He sinks back as if unconscious.) Boys and Youths (from halfway up the dome)   ‘Enlightened through compassion,[54]   the innocent fool:   wait for him,   the appointed one!’ Knights   Thus ran the promise made to you:[25]   wait confidently;   serve the Office today! Titurel   Uncover the Grail! (Amfortas raises himself slowly and in difficulty. The acolytes remove the cover from the golden shrine and take from it an antique crystal chalice, from which they also remove a covering, and place it before Amfortas.) [1f, e, h] Voices (from high up)   ‘Take this my body,[1]   take my blood,   in token of our love!’ (While Amfortas bows devoutly in silent prayer before the chalice, an increasingly dark twilight extends over the hall.) Boys (from high up)   ‘Take this my blood,   take my body,   in remembrance of me!’ 149

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(Hier dringt ein blendender Lichtstrahl von oben auf die Kristallschale herab; diese erglüht sodann in leuchtender Purpurfarbe, alles sanft bestrahlend. Amfortas, mit verklärter Miene, erhebt den Gral hoch und schwenkt ihn sanft nach allen Seiten, worauf er damit Brot und [3, 41, 50] Wein segnet. Alles ist auf den Knien.) Titurel   O heilige Wonne!   Wie hell grüßt uns heute der Herr!

[1a, 25]

(Amfortas setzt den Gral wieder nieder, welcher nun, während die tiefe Dämmerung wieder entweicht, immer mehr erblaßt; hierauf schließen die Knaben das Gefäß wieder in den Schrein und bedecken diesen wie zuvor. [8, 25] Hier tritt die frühere Tageshelle wieder ein. Die vier Knaben verteilen während des Folgenden aus den zwei Krügen und Körben Wein und Brot.)[30] Knaben (aus der Höhe)   Wein und Brot des letzten Mahles   wandelt’ einst der Herr des Grales   durch des Mitleids Liebesmacht   in das Blut, das er vergoß,   in den Leib, den dar er bracht’. (Die vier Knaben, nachdem sie den Schrein verschlossen, nehmen nun die zwei Weinkrüge sowie die zwei Brotkörbe, welche Amfortas zuvor durch das Schwenken des Gralskelches über sie gesegnet hatte, von dem Altartische, verteilen das Brot an die Ritter und füllen die vor ihnen stehenden Becher mit Wein. Die Ritter lassen sich zum Mahle nieder, so auch Gurnemanz, welcher einen Platz neben sich leer hält und Parsifal durch ein Zeichen zur Teilnehmung am Mahle einlädt: Parsifal bleibt aber starr und stumm, wie gänzlich entrückt, zur Seite stehend.) Jünglinge (aus der mittleren Höhe der Kuppel)   Blut und Leib der heil’gen Gabe   wandelt heut’ zu eurer Labe   sel’ger Tröstung Liebesgeist   in den Wein, der euch nun floß,   in das Brot, das heut’ ihr speist’. 150

act one

(Here a dazzling ray of light falls from above on the crystal cup, which now grows in a brilliant crimson, shedding a soft light on everything. Amfortas, transfigured, raises the Grail aloft and waves it gently round to every side, blessing the bread and wine with it. All [3, 41, 50] are on their knees.) Titurel   O heavenly rapture!   How brightly our Lord greets us today!

[1a, 25]

(Amfortas sets the Grail down again, and its glow gradually fades as the darkness lifts: at this the acolytes replace the vessel in the shrine and cover it as before.[8, 25] Daylight returns. The four squires, during the ensuing, distribute the two flagons of wine and baskets of bread.)[30] Boys (from up high)   Wine and bread from the Last Supper   the Lord of the Grail once turned,   through the power of pity and love,   into the blood which He shed,   into the body which He broke. (The four squires, after closing the shrine, now take from the altar table the two wine flagons and two baskets of bread, which Amfortas had previously blessed by passing the chalice of the Grail over them, distribute the bread among the knights and fill with wine the cups standing before them. The knights seat themselves at the feast, as does Gurnemanz, who has kept a place empty beside him and signals to Parsifal to come and partake of the meal; Parsifal however remains standing apart, motionless and silent, as if completely transported.) Youths (from halfway up the dome)   Blood and body of that holy gift,   the loving spirit of blessed consolation,   now turn for your refreshment   into the wine poured out for you,   into the bread that feeds you today. 151

parsifal

Die Ritter (erste Hälfte)   Nehmet vom Brot,   wandelt es kühn   in Leibes Kraft und Stärke;   treu bis zum Tod;   fest jedem Müh’n,   zu wirken des Heilands Werke! Die Ritter (zweite Hälfte)   Nehmet vom Wein,   wandelt ihn neu   zu Lebens feurigem Blute.   Froh im Verein,   brudergetreu   zu kämpfen mit seligem Mute! Alle Ritter    

Selig im Glauben![25] Selig im Glauben und Liebe!

Jünglinge und Knaben   Selig in Liebe!   Selig im Glauben! (Die Ritter haben sich erhoben und schreiten von beiden Seiten aufeinander zu, um während des Folgenden sich feierlich zu umarmen. Während des Mahles, an welchem er nicht teilnahm, ist Amfortas aus seiner begeisterungsvollen Erhebung allmählich wieder herabgesunken: er neigt das Haupt und hält die Hand auf die Wunde. Die Knaben nähern sich ihm, ihre Bewegungen deuten auf das erneuerte Bluten der Wunde: sie pflegen Amfortas, geleiten ihn wieder auf die Sänfte, und, während alle sich zum Aufbruch rüsten, tragen sie, in der Ordnung, wie sie kamen, Amfortas und den heiligen Schrein wieder von dannen. Die Ritter ordnen sich ebenfalls wieder zum feierlichen Zug und verlassen langsam den Saal. Verminderte Tageshelle tritt ein. Knappen ziehen wieder schnelleren Schrittes durch die Halle. Die letzen Ritter und Knaben haben den Saal verlassen: die Türen werden geschlossen. Parsifal hatte bei dem vorangegangenen stärksten Klagerufe des Amfortas eine heftige Bewegung nach dem Herzen 152

act one

Knights (first half)   Take of the bread,   turn it confidently   into bodily strength and power;   true until death,   steadfast in effort,   to work the Saviour’s will! Knights (second half)   Take of the wine,   turn it anew   into the fiery blood of life.   Rejoicing in the unity   of brotherly faith,   let us fight with holy courage! All the Knights   Blessed in faith![25]   Blessed in faith and love! Youths and Boys   Blessed in love!   Blessed in faith! (The knights rise and pace from either side to the centre, where they solemnly embrace during the ensuing. During the meal Amfortas, who has taken no part in it, has gradually relapsed from his inspired exultation: he bows his head and holds his hand on the wound. The acolytes approach him; their movements reveal that his wound is bleeding anew: they tend Amfortas, assisting him back onto his litter and, while all prepare to depart, they bear out Amfortas and the holy shrine in the order in which they entered. The knights likewise fall into solemn procession and slowly leave the hall. The daylight fades. Squires again quickly pass through the hall. The last knights and squires have left the hall, and the doors are closed. Parsifal, on hearing Amfortas’s previous loud cry of agony, had made a violent movement towards his heart, which he clutched convulsively for a long time: now again he 153

parsifal

gemacht, welches er krampfhaft eine Zeitlang gefaßt hielt; jetzt steht er noch wie erstarrt, regungslos da. Gurnemanz tritt mißmutig an Parsifal heran und rüttelt ihn am Arme.) [25, 11, 41, 29, 42, 54, 30] Gurnemanz   Was stehst du noch da?[54]   Weißt du, was du sah’st? (Parsifal faßt sich krampfhaft am Herzen und schüttelt dann ein wenig mit dem Haupte.)  

Du bist doch eben nur ein Tor![54]

(Er öffnet eine schmale Seitentür.)        

Dort hinaus, deine Wege zu![57] Doch rät dir Gurnemanz: laß’ du hier künftig die Schwäne in Ruh’[22] und suche dir, Gänser, die Gans!

(Er stößt Parsifal hinaus und schlägt mürrisch hinter ihm die Türe stark zu. Während er dann den Rittern folgt, schließt auf dem letzten Takte mit der Fermate sich der Vorhang.)[54] Eine Altstimme (aus der Höhe)   „Durch Mitleid wissend,[54]   der reine Tor.“ Stimmen (aus der mittleren und höchsten Höhe)   Selig im Glauben![25] (Glocken)[30]

154

act one

stands motionless, as if petrified. Gurnemanz ill-humouredly approaches Parsifal and shakes him by the arm.)  [25, 11, 41, 29, 42, 54, 30] Gurnemanz   Why are you still standing there?[54]   Do you know what you have seen? (Parsifal presses his heart convulsively and slightly shakes his head.)  

So you are only a fool then![54]

(He opens a narrow side door.)        

Off with you, and go on your way![57] But heed Gurnemanz: in future leave the swans here in peace:[22] a gander should look for a goose!

(He pushes Parsifal out and bangs the door angrily upon him. As he then follows the knights, the curtain closes on the fermata of the last bar.)[54] An Alto Voice (from high up)   ‘Enlightened through compassion,[54]   the innocent fool.’ Voices (from the mid-height and the summit)   Blessed in faith![25] (Bells)[30]

155

Zweiter Aufzug [7, 41x, 36]

Klingsors Zauberschloß am Südabhange derselben Gebirge, dem arabischen Spanien zugewandt anzunehmen. Im inneren Verließe eines nach oben offenen Turmes. Steinstufen führen nach dem Zinnenrande der Turmmauer; Finsternis in der Tiefe, nach welcher es von dem Mauervorsprunge, den der Bühnenboden darstellt, hinabführt. Zauberwerkzeuge und nekromantische Vorrichtungen. Klingsor auf dem Mauervorsprunge zur Seite, vor einem Metallspiegel sitzend. [4]

Klingsor   Die Zeit ist da.   Schon lockt mein Zauberschloß den Toren,   den, kindisch jauchzend, fern ich nahen seh’.   Im Todesschlafe hält der Fluch sie fest,   der ich den Krampf zu lösen weiß.   Auf denn! Ans Werk!

[54, 57] [4, 36]

(Er steigt, der Mitte zu, etwas tiefer herab und entzündet dort Räucherwerk, welches alsbald den Hintergrund mit einem bläulichen Dampf erfüllt. Dann setzt er sich wieder vor die Zauberwerkzeuge und ruft, mit geheimnisvollen Gebärden, nach dem Abgrunde:)[4]   Herauf! Herauf! Zu mir!   Dein Meister ruft dich, Namenlose,[7]   Urteufelin! Höllenrose!   Herodias warst du, und was noch?   Gundryggia dort, Kundry hier![4]   Hieher! Hieher denn, Kundry![7]   Dein Meister ruft: herauf![61] 156

Act Two [7, 41x, 36]

Klingsor’s magic castle, on the southern slope of the same mountain range, facing Moorish Spain. The inner keep of a tower open to the sky. Stone steps lead to the battlements on the tower wall. The stage represents the projecting wall of the tower, which leads down into darkness below. Implements of witchcraft and necromantic apparatus. Klingsor on the projecting wall, to one side, sitting before a metal mirror. [4]

Klingsor   The time has come. [54, 57]   My magic castle lures the fool,   whom I see approaching from afar, shouting boyishly.   In deathly sleep the woman is held fast by the curse [4, 36]   whose grip I have the power to loosen.   Up then! To work! (He descends slightly towards the centre and lights incense, which instantly fills the background with blue smoke. Then he seats himself again before his magic mirror and calls again into the depths:)[4]   Come up! Come up! To me!   Your master calls you, nameless one,[7]   primeval witch, rose of hell!   You were Herodias, and what else?   Gundryggia there, Kundry here![4]   come here! Come hither, Kundry![7]   Your master calls: obey![61] 157

parsifal

(In dem bläulichen Lichte steigt Kundrys Gestalt herauf. Sie scheint schlafend. Allmählich aber macht sie die Bewegungen einer Erwachenden. Schließlich stößt sie einen gräßlichen Schrei aus.  [41x, 4, 60, 36, 34c]   Erwachst du? Ha!   Meinem Banne wieder   verfallen heut’ zur rechten Zeit. (Kundry läßt ein Klagegeheul, von größter Heftigkeit bis zu bangem Wimmern sich abstufend, vernehmen.)   Sag’, wo triebst du dich wieder umher?   Pfui! Dort bei dem Rittergesipp,[60]   wo wie ein Vieh du dich halten läßt!   Gefällt dir’s bei mir nicht besser?   Als ihren Meister du mir gefangen –[36]   haha – den reinen Hüter des Grales –[41y]   was jagte dich da wieder fort? Kundry (rauh und abgebrochen, wie im Versuche, wieder Sprache zu gewinnen)   Ach! Ach![43]   Tiefe Nacht![4]   Wahnsinn! Oh! Wut!   Ach! Jammer! [43, 10]   Schlaf… schlaf…[9]   Tiefer Schlaf! Tod! Klingsor   Da weckte dich ein and’rer? He? Kundry    

Ja… mein Fluch!…[36] Oh… Sehnen… Sehnen![41]

Klingsor   Haha! Dort, nach den keuschen Rittern? Kundry  

Da… da… dient’ ich.[37] 158

act two

(Kundry’s shape arises in the bluish light. She seems asleep. Gradually however she moves on like one awaking. Finally she utters a terrible scream.)  [41x, 4, 60, 36, 34c]   Are you awaking? Ha!   To my power you fall again today,   and at the right time. (Kundry utters a loud wail that subsides to a frightened whimper.)   Say, where have you been roaming again?   Fie! There among the knights and their circle[60]   where you let yourself be treated like a beast!   Do you not fare better with me?   When you captured their master for me –[36]   ha ha! – that chaste guardian of the Grail –[41y]   what drove you forth again? Kundry (hoarsely and brokenly, as if trying to regain the power of speech)   Oh! Oh![43]   Deep night![4]   Frenzy! O rage!   O misery! [43, 10]   Sleep… sleep…[9]   deep sleep! Death! Klingsor   Did another awaken you? Eh? Kundry    

Yes… my curse!…[36] O yearning… yearning![41]

Klingsor   Ha ha! There, for the chaste knights? Kundry  

There… There I served.[37] 159

parsifal

Klingsor   Ja, ja, den Schaden zu vergüten,   den du ihnen böslich gebracht?[42]   Sie helfen dir nicht:   feil sind sie alle,   biet’ ich den rechten Preis:   der Festeste fällt,   sinkt er dir in die Arme,[43]   und so verfällt er dem Speer,   den ihrem Meister selbst ich entwand. [1h, 7, 42]   Den Gefährlichsten gilt’s nun heut’ zu besteh’n:[54]   ihn schirmt der Torheit Schild. Kundry   Ich… will nicht… Oh!… Oh!

[3x, 42, 9]

Klingsor   Wohl willst du, denn du mußt.[37] Kundry   Du… kannst mich… nicht… halten.[37] Klingsor   Aber dich fassen. Kundry  

Du?

Klingsor  

Dein Meister.

[61, 37]

Kundry   Aus welcher Macht? Klingsor   Ha! Weil einzig an mir[36]   deine Macht nichts vermag. Kundry (grell lachend)   Haha! Bist du keusch?[37] 160

act two

Klingsor   Yes, to make good the wrongs   that you had maliciously done them?[42]   They will not help you;   if I bid the right price   they are all venal;   the steadiest will fall   when he sinks in your arms,[43]   and so falls to the Spear   which I myself seized from their master. [1h, 7, 42]   Now today we have the most dangerous to meet;[54]   he is shielded by his foolishness. Kundry   I… will not… Oh!… Oh!

[3x, 42, 9]

Klingsor   You will, because you must.[37] Kundry   You… cannot… keep me.[37] Klingsor   But I can force you. Kundry   Klingsor  

You? Your master.

[61, 37]

Kundry   By what power? Klingsor   Ha! Since only with me[36]   does your power avail you nothing. Kundry (laughing shrilly)   Ha ha! Are you chaste?[37] 161

parsifal

Klingsor (wütend)   Was frägst du das, verfluchtes Weib?

[37, 34d]

(Er versinkt in finstres Brüten.)   Furchtbare Not!   So lacht nun der Teufel mein,   daß einst ich nach dem Heiligen rang?[4]   Furchtbare Not![41x]   Ungebändigten Sehnens Pein,[7]   schrecklichster Triebe Höllendrang,   den ich zum Todesschweigen mir zwang –   lacht und höhnt er nun laut[34d]   durch dich, des Teufels Braut?[36]   Hüte dich!   Hohn und Verachtung büßte schon einer:[7]   der Stolze, stark in Heiligkeit,   der einst mich von sich stieß:   sein Stamm verfiel mir,[45]   unerlöst   soll der Heiligen Hüter mir schmachten;[25]   und bald – so wähn’ ich –   hüt’ ich mir selbst den Gral –[41x]   Ha ha![45]   Gefiel er dir wohl, Amfortas, der Held,   den ich zur Wonne dir gesellt?[36] Kundry   Oh!… Jammer!… Jammer! [42, 37]   Schwach auch er!… Schwach… alle![34a]   Meinem Fluche mit mir [41x, 36]   alle verfallen!   O ewiger Schlaf,[41x]   einziges Heil,   wie… wie dich gewinnen? Klingsor   Ha! Wer dir trotzte, löste dich frei:[54]   versuch’s mit dem Knaben, der naht! 162

act two

Klingsor (furiously)   Why do you ask that, accursed witch?

[37, 34d]

(He sinks into gloomy brooding.)   Dire distress!   So now the fiend mocks me   that once I strove after holiness?[4]   Dire distress![41x]   The pain of untamed desire,[7]   most horrible, hell-inspired impulse   which I had throttled to deathly silence –   does it now laugh aloud and mock[34d]   through you, bride of the devil?[36]   Beware!   One man already repents his contempt and scorn,[7]   that proud man, strong in his holiness,   who once drove me out.   his race I ruined;[45]   unredeemed shall the guardian   of the holy treasure languish[25]   and soon – I know it –   I myself will guard the Grail –[41x]   Ha ha![45]   How did you like the hero Amfortas   whom I ensnared for your charms?[36] Kundry   O anguish!… Anguish! [42, 37]   He too was weak!… weak are they all![34a]   All fall victim [41x, 36]   to my curse!   O endless sleep,[41x]   only release,   how can I win you? Klingsor   Ha! he who spurns you sets you free:[54]   attempt it with the boy who is drawing near! 163

parsifal

Kundry  

Ich… will nicht!

Klingsor (steigt hastig auf die Turmmauer)   Jetzt schon erklimmt er die Burg.[57] Kundry      

Oh! Wehe! Wehe![34a] Erwachte ich darum? Muß ich? Muß?[36]

Klingsor (hinabblickend)   Ha! Er ist schön, der Knabe![43] Kundry   Oh! Oh! Wehe mir![36] (Klingsor stößt, nach außen gewandt, in ein Horn.) Klingsor   Ho! Ihr Wächter! Ho! Ritter![59]   Helden! Auf! Feinde nah’!   Ha! Wie zur Mauer sie stürmen,   die betörten Eigenbolde,   zum Schutz ihres schönen Geteufels!   So! Mutig! Mutig!   Haha! Der fürchtet sich nicht!   Dem Helden Ferris entwand er die Waffe;   die führt er nun freislich wider den Schwarm. (Kundry gerät in unheimliches ekstatisches Lachen bis zu krampfhaftem Wehegeschrei.)   Wie übel den Tölpeln der Eifer gedeiht!   Dem schlug er den Arm, jenem den Schenkel! (Kundry schreit auf und verschwindet.)  

Haha! Sie weichen. Sie fliehen.

[36, 57]

(Das bläuliche Licht ist erloschen; volle Finsternis in der Tiefe, wogegen glänzende Himmelsbläue über der Mauer) 164

act two

Kundry  

I… will not!

Klingsor (hastily mounting the tower wall)   He is already climbing up to the castle.[57] Kundry      

Alas! Alas![34a] Did I wake for this? Must I? Must I?[36]

Klingsor (looking down)   Ha! The boy is handsome![43] Kundry   Oh! Oh! Woe is me![36] (Klingsor, leaning out, blows a horn.) Klingsor   Ho, guards! Ho, knights![59]   Heroes! Up! Foes are at hand!   Ha! How they rush to the ramparts,   my deluded garrison,   to defend their beautiful witches!   Yes! Courage! Courage!   Ha ha! He is not afraid;   he has disarmed the hero Ferris,   whose weapon he sturdily wields against the throng. (Kundry breaks into wild hysterical laughter, which turns to a convulsive cry of woe.)   How ill does his ardour accord with the dullards!   He has struck one in the arm, another in the thigh! (Kundry screams and vanishes.)  

Ha ha! They’re yielding. They’re running away.

[36, 57]

(The bluish light is extinguished, leaving total darkness below, in contrast to the bright blue sky above the walls) 165

parsifal

  Seine Wunde trägt jeder nach heim![54]   Wie das ich euch gönne!   Möge denn so   das ganze Rittergezücht   unter sich selber sich würgen![57]   Ha! Wie stolz er nun steht auf der Zinne!   Wie lachen ihm die Rosen der Wangen,   da kindisch erstaunt   in den einsamen Garten er blickt![39] (Er wendet sich nach der Tiefe des Hintergrundes um.)   He! Kundry![34a]   Wie? Schon am Werk?[36]   Haha! Den Zauber wußt ich wohl,[58]   der immer dich wieder zum Dienst mir gesellt![7] (sich wieder nach außen wendend)              

Du da, kindischer Sproß,[54] was auch Weissagung dich wies, zu jung und dumm fielst du in meine Gewalt; die Reinheit dir entrissen, bleibst mir du zugewiesen![7]

(Er versinkt schnell mit dem ganzen Turme; zugleich steigt der Zaubergarten auf und erfüllt die Bühne gänzlich. Tropische Vegetation, üppigste Blumenpracht; nach dem Hintergrunde zu Abgrenzung durch die Zinne der Burgmauer, an welche sich seitwärts Vorsprünge des Schloßbaues selbst, arabischen reichen Stiles, mit Terrassen anlehnen. Auf der Mauer steht Parsifal, staunend in den Garten hinabblickend. [57, 59] Von allen Seiten her, zuerst aus dem Garten, dann aus dem Palaste, stürzen wirr durcheinander, einzeln, dann zugleich immer mehr schöne Mädchen herein; sie sind mit flüchtig übergeworfenen, zartfarbigen Schleiern verhüllt, wie soeben aus dem Schlafe aufgeschreckt.) Alle Mädchen (sich gegenseitig zurufend)   Hier war das Tosen! Hier, hier!   Waffen! Wilde Rüfe! Wehe! 166

act two

  Each takes home a wound![54]   Not one of them do I grudge!   May the   whole brood of knights   thus wreak havoc on each other![57]   Ha! How proudly he now stands on the rampart!   How happily flushed are his cheeks   as in childish amazement   he gazes at the deserted garden![39] (He turns towards the far background.)   Ho, Kundry![34a]   What? Already at work?[36]   Ha ha! I well know the spell[58]   that forever binds you to serve me again![7] (looking out again)              

You there, innocent lad,[54] whatever prophecies were made you, too young and dull, you fall into my power; once deprived of purity you will remain my slave![7]

(He rapidly sinks with the whole tower; at the same time the magic garden rises and fills the whole stage. Tropical vegetation, luxuriant display of flowers: towards the rear the scene is bounded by the battlements of the castle walls, flanked by projecting parts of the castle itself, in a rich Arabian style with terraces. Upon the rampart stands Parsifal, gazing down into the garden in astonishment. [57, 59] From all sides beautiful maidens rush in, first from the garden, then from the palace, in wild confusion, singly then in numbers; they are clad in soft-coloured veils hastily donned, as if just startled out of sleep.) All Maidens (to one another)   Here was the uproar! Here! Here!   Weapons! Angry clamour! Woe is us! 167

parsifal

     

Wer ist der Frevler? Wo ist der Frevler? Auf zur Rache!

 1. Mädchen, 1. Gruppe   Mein Geliebter verwundet![44]  1. Mädchen, 2. Gruppe   Wo find’ ich den meinen?  2. Mädchen, 1. Gruppe   Ich erwachte alleine! Chor I und II   Wohin entfloh’n sie?  1. Mädchen, 2. Gruppe   Wo ist mein Geliebter?  3. Mädchen, 1. Gruppe   Wo find ich den meinen?  2. Mädchen, 2. Gruppe   Ich erwachte alleine! Alle Mädchen (sich gegenseitig zurufend)   Wo sind unsre Liebsten?   Drinnen im Saale!   Wo sind uns’re Liebsten?   Wir sah’n sie im Saale.   Wir sah’n sie mit blutender Wunde.   Wehe! Wehe! Auf, zur Hilfe!   Wer ist unser Feind? (Sie gewahren Parsifal und zeigen auf ihn.)        

Da steht er![62] Seht ihn dort, seht ihn dort! Da steht er! Wo? Dort! Ha! Ich sah’s! 168

act two

     

Who is the miscreant? Where is the miscreant? Vengeance!

 1st Maiden, 1st Group   My beloved wounded?[44]  1st Maiden, 2nd Group   Where can I find mine?  2nd Maiden, 1st Group   I awoke alone! Choruses I and II   Where have they fled?  1st Maiden, 2nd Group   Where is my beloved?  3rd Maiden, 1st Group   Where can I find mine?  2nd Maiden, 2nd Group   I awoke alone! All Maidens (to one another)   Where are our lovers?   Inside the palace!   Where are our lovers?   We saw them in the palace.   We saw them with bleeding wounds.   Alas! Alas! Up, go to their aid!   Who is our foe? (They perceive Parsifal and point him out.)        

There he stands![62] See him there, see him there! There he stands! Where? There! Ah, I see him. 169

parsifal

 1. Mädchen, 1. Gruppe   Meines Ferris Schwert   in seiner Hand!  2. Mädchen, 1. Gruppe   Meines Liebsten Blut   hab’ ich erkannt. Chor I und II   Der stürmte die Burg!  3. Mädchen, 2. Gruppe   Ich hörte des Meisters Horn.  3. Mädchen, 1. Gruppe, 2. Mädchen 2. Gruppe   Ja, wir hörten sein Horn. Chor I und II   Der war’s!  1. und 3. Mädchen, 2. gruppe   Mein Held lief herzu.  2. und 3. Mädchen, 1. Gruppe   Sie kamen alle herzu.  1. Mädchen, 1. Gruppe   Mein Held lief herzu. Chor I und II (Altstimmen)   Sie alle kamen, doch jeden   empfing seine Wehr!   Weh’! Weh’ ihm, der sie uns schlug!  2. Mädchen, 1. Gruppe und Mädchen aus Chor II   Der schlug mir den Liebsten.[44]  1. Mädchen, 1. Gruppe und Mädchen aus chor i   Mir traf er den Freund.  2. Mädchen, 2. Gruppe und Mädchen aus chor ii   Noch blutet die Waffe! 170

act two

 1st Maiden, 1st Group   My Ferris’s sword   is in his hand!  2nd Maiden, 1st Group   I see   my beloved’s blood on it. Choruses I and II   He stormed the castle!  3rd Maiden, 2nd Group   I heard the master’s horn.  3rd Maiden, 1st Group and 2nd Maiden, 2nd Group   Yes, we too heard his horn. Choruses I and II   It was he!  1st and 3rd Maidens, 2nd Group   My knight ran hither.  2nd and 3rd Maidens, 1st Group   They all came hither.  1st Maiden, 1st Group   My knight ran hither Choruses I and II (altos)   They all came, but each   encountered his weapon!   Woe! Woe to him that smote them!  2nd Maiden, 1st Group and Maidens from Chorus II   He wounded my lover.[44]  1st Maiden, 1st Group and Maidens from Chorus I   He struck my friend.  2nd Maiden, 2nd Group and Maidens from Chorus II   Still bloody is his weapon! 171

parsifal

 1. Mädchen, 2. Gruppe und Mädchen aus chor i   Meines Liebsten Feind. Alle Mädchen   Weh’! Du dort! Ach wehe!   Was schuf’st du solche Not?   Verwünscht, verwünscht sollst du sein! (Parsifal springt tiefer in den Garten herab. Die Mädchen weichen jäh zurück. Jetzt hält er voll Verwunderung an.)[57]   Ha! Kühner!  1. Mädchen, 1. Gruppe;  1. und 2. Mädchen, 2. Gruppe   Wagst du zu nahen?  2. und 3. Mädchen, 1. Gruppe,  UND 3. Mädchen, 2. Gruppe   Was schlugst du uns’re Geliebten? Parsifal   Ihr schönen Kinder, mußt’ ich sie nicht schlagen?   Zu euch, ihr Holden, ja wehrten sie mir den Weg.[39]  1. Mädchen, 2. Gruppe   Zu uns wolltest du?[62a]  1. Mädchen, 1. Gruppe   Sahst du uns schon? Parsifal   Noch nie sah’ ich solch’ zieres Geschlecht:   nenn’ ich euch schön, dünkt euch das recht?  2. Mädchen, 1. Gruppe   So willst du uns wohl nicht schlagen?[44]  2. Mädchen, 2. Gruppe   Willst uns nicht schlagen? Parsifal   Das möcht’ ich nicht. 172

act two

 1st Maiden, 2nd Group and maidens from Chorus I   My lover’s foe! All Maidens   Alas! You there! Alas!   Why did you cause such distress?   May you be accursed! (Parsifal jumps down lower into the garden. The maidens hastily retreat. Now he pauses, full of wonder.)[57]   Ah, audacious one!  1st Maiden, 1st Group;  1st and 2nd Maidens, 2nd Group   You dare to approach!  2nd and 3rd Maidens, 1st Group and 3rd Maiden, 2nd Group   Why did you smite our lovers? Parsifal   Lovely children, how could I not smite them?   They barred my way to you, my fair ones.[39]  1st Maiden, 2nd group   Were you seeking us?[62a]  1st Maiden, 1st Group   Had you seen us already? Parsifal   Never yet have I seen so fair a company:   do you not think me right in calling you fair?  2nd Maiden, 1st Group   Then you do not mean to harm us?[44]  2nd Maiden, 2nd Group   You will not harm us? Parsifal   I would not like that. 173

parsifal

 1. Mädchen, 2. Gruppe   Doch Schaden   schufst du uns so vielen!  2. und 3. Mädchen, 1. und 2. Gruppe   Großen und vielen!  1. Mädchen 1. und 2. Gruppe   Du schlugest uns’re Gespielen. Alle Mädchen   Wer spielt nun mit uns? Parsifal  

Das tu’ ich gern!

(Die Mädchen, von Verwunderung in Heiterkeit übergegangen, brechen jetzt in ein lustiges Gelächter aus. Während Parsifal immer näher zu den aufgeregten Gruppen tritt, entweichen unmerklich die Mädchen der ersten Gruppe und des ersten Chors hinter den Blumenhäge, um ihren Blumenschmuck zu vollenden)[57] Chor Ii   Bist du uns hold?  2. Gruppe   So bleib’ nicht fern! Chor II  

Bleib nicht fern von uns.

 1. Mädchen, 2. Gruppe   Und willst du uns nicht schelten…  2. Mädchen, 2. Gruppe   Wir werden dir’s entgelten:  2. Gruppe (nacheinander)   Wir spielen nicht um Gold.[62a]  1. Mädchen, 2. Gruppe   Wir spielen um Minnes Sold. 174

act two

 1st maiden, 2nd Group   Yet you have caused us   many woes!  2nd and 3rd Maidens, 1st and 2nd Groups   Many and grievous!  1st Maidens, 1st and 2nd Groups   You smote our playmates! All Maidens   Who now will play with us? Parsifal  

I will, gladly!

(The maidens’ surprise has changed to gaiety and they now break into merry laughter. As Parsifal comes ever nearer to the excited groups, the maidens of the 1st Group and of the 2nd Chorus slip away unperceived behind the banks of flowers to complete their floral adornment)[57] Chorus II   Will you be kind to us?  2nd Group   Then do not stay afar! Chorus II   Then do not stay far from us.  1st Maiden, 2nd Group   And if you do not chide us…  2nd Maiden, 2nd Group   …we will repay you  2nd Group (in succession)   We do not play for gold,[62a]  1st Maiden, 2nd Group   …We play for love’s dues. 175

parsifal

 1. und 3. Mädchen   Willst auf Trost du uns sinnen…  1. Mädchen, 2. Gruppe   …sollst den du uns abgewinnen! (Die Mädchen der ersten Gruppe und des ersten Chors kommen, mit dem Folgenden, ganz in Blumengewändern, selbst als Blumen erscheinend, zurück und stürzen sich sofort auf Parsifal.)  2. Blume, 1. Gruppe   Lasset den Knaben!  1. Blume, 1. Gruppe  

Er gehöret mir!

 3. Blume, 2. Blume, 1. Gruppe   Nein! Chor I  

Nein! Mir!

Chor II und 2. Gruppe   Ha! Die Falschen!   Sie schmückten sich heimlich. (Während die Zurückgekommenen sich an Parsifal herandrängen, verlassen die Mädchen der zweiten Gruppe und des zweiten Chors hastig die Szene, um sich ebenfalls zu schmücken.) Chor I und 1. Gruppe (während sie, wie in anmutigem Kinderspiele, in abwechselndem Reigen um Parsifal sich drehen.)   Komm’, komm’,   holder Knabe![18]   Laß’ mich dir blühen!   dir zu Wonn’ und Labe   gilt mein minniges Mühen!  1. Blume, 1. Gruppe   Komm’, o holder Knabe![63]  2. und 3. Blume 1. Grupppe   Holder Knabe! 176

act two

 2nd Maiden, 2nd Group   If you bring us consolation…  1st Maiden, 2nd Group   …you shall win it from us! (The Maidens of the first Group and first Chorus return wholly dressed in flowers, looking like flowers themselves, and at once rush upon Parsifal.)  2nd Flower, 1st Group   Leave the boy!  1st Flower, 1st Group   He belongs to me!  3rd then 2nd Flower, 1st Group   No! Chorus I  

No! To me!

 2nd Group and Chorus II   Ah, the minxes!   They secretly adorned themselves. (While those returning crowd round Parsifal, the maidens of the second Group and second Chorus hastily leave the stage to adorn themselves similarly.) Chorus I and 1st Group (as they dance round Parsifal in ever-changing circles with the charm of children at play.)   Come, come,   handsome boy![18]   Let me bloom for you!   Gentle boy, all my loving care   is for your delight and bliss!  1st Flower, 1st Group   Come, gentle boy![63]  2nd and 3rd Flowers, 1st Group   Gentle boy! 177

parsifal

(Die zweite Gruppe und der zweite Chor kommen, ebenfalls geschmückt, zurück und gesellen sich zum Spiele.) Alle Blumenmädchen   Komm’! Komm’,   holder Knabe!   Laß’ mich dir erblühen!   Dir zu Wonn’ und Labe   gilt unser minniges Mühen! Parsifal (heiter ruhig in der Mitte der Mädchen)   Wie duftet ihr hold![63]   Seid ihr denn Blumen?  1. Blume, 1. Gruppe   Des Garten Zier…  2. Blume 1. und 2. Gruppe   …und duftende Geister.  1. Blume 1. und 2. Gruppe   Im Lenz pflückt uns der Meister!  2. Blume 1. und 2. Gruppe   Wir wachsen hier…  1. Blume 1. und 2. Gruppe   …in Sommer und Sonne…  1. und 2. Blume 1. und 2 Gruppe   …für dich erblühend in Wonne.  3. Blume, 1. und 2. Gruppe und Chor I   Nun sei uns freund und hold!  2. Blume, 1. und 2. Gruppe und Chor II   Nicht karge den Blumen den Sold! Alle Blumen   Kannst du uns nicht lieben und minnen,   wir welken und sterben dahinnen. 178

act two

(The second group and second Chorus, similarly adorned, return to join the play.) All Flower Maidens   Come, come,   handsome boy!   Let me be your flower!   All our loving care   is for your delight and bliss! Parsifal (standing in happy calm amidst the maidens)   How sweet you smell![63]   Are you flowers then?  1st Flower, 1st Group   The Garden’s pride…  1st Flower, 2nd Group   …and perfumed essence.  1st Flowers, 1st and 2nd Groups   Our master plucked us in springtime!  2nd Flowers, 1st and 2nd Groups   We grow here…  1st Flowers, 1st and 2nd Groups   …in summer and sunlight…  1st and 2nd Flowers, 1st and 2nd groups   …to bloom for your delight.  3rd Flowers, 1st and 2nd Groups and Chorus I   Now be friendly and kind!  2nd Flowers, 1st and 2nd Groups and Chorus II   Do not grudge the flowers their due! All Flower Maidens   If you cannot love and cherish us,   we shall wither and perish. 179

parsifal

 1. Blume, 2. Gruppe   An deinen Busen nimm mich! Chor I und II   Komm’, holder Knabe!  1. Blume, 1. Gruppe   Die Stirn laß’ mich dir kühlen! Chor I und II   Laß’ mich dir erblühen!  2. Blume, 1. Gruppe   Laß mich die Wange dir fühlen!  2. Blume, 2. Gruppe   Den Mund laß mich dir küssen!  1. Blume, 1. Gruppe   Nein! Ich! Die Schönste bin ich!  2. Blume, 1. Gruppe   Nein! Ich bin die Schönste!  1. UND 3. Blume, 1. Gruppe;  2. Blume, 2. Gruppe   Ich bin schöner!  1. Blume, 2. Gruppe   Nein! Ich dufte süßer! Alle anderen   Nein, ich! Ich! Ja, ich! Parsifal (ihrer anmutigen Zudringlichkeit sanft wehrend)   Ihr wild holdes Blumengedränge,[57]   soll ich mit euch spielen, entlaß’t mich der Enge! [44, 57]  1. Blume, 2. Gruppe   Was zankest du?[64] Parsifal  

Weil ihr euch streitet. 180

act two

 1st Flower, 2nd Group   Take me to your bosom! Choruses I and II   Come, gentle boy!  1st Flower, 1st Group   Let me cool your brow! Choruses I and II   Let me be your flower!  2nd Flower, 1st Group   Let me touch your cheek!  2nd Flower, 2nd Group   Let me kiss your lips!  1st Flower, 1st Group   No! I am the fairest!  2nd Flower, 1st Group   No! I am the fairest!  1st and 3rd Flowers, 1st Group;  2nd Flower, 2nd Group   I am fairer!  1st Flower, 2nd Group   No! I smell sweeter! All The Others   No, I do, I do! Parsifal (gently restraining their charming impetuosity)   You wild throng of lovely flowers,[57]   if I am to play with you, give me some room! [44, 57] First Flower, 2nd Group   Why do you scold us?[64] Parsifal  

Because you are quarrelling. 181

parsifal

 1. Blume, 1. Gruppe, dann 2. Blume, 2. Gruppe   Wir streiten nur um dich. Parsifal  

Das meidet.

 2. Blume, 1. Gruppe   Du laß’ von ihm: sieh’, er will mich!  3. Blume, 1. Gruppe   Mich lieber!  3. Blume, 2. Gruppe   Nein, mich!  2. Blume, 2. Gruppe  

Nein, lieber will er mich!

 1. Blume, 2. Gruppe   Du wehrest mich von dir?  1. Blume, 1. Gruppe  

Du scheuchest mich fort?

 2. und 3. Blume, 1. Gruppe;  3. Blume, 2. Gruppe   Du wehrest mir? Chor I   Wie, bist du feige vor Frauen? Alle Blumen, 2. Gruppe   Magst dich nicht getrauen? Chor II   Magst dich nicht getrauen?  1. Blume, 1. Gruppe   Wie schlimm bist du, Zager und Kalter![44] Chor I und II   Wie schlimm!   So zag? 182

act two

 1st Flower, 1st Group, then 2nd Flower, 2nd group   We are only quarrelling over you. Parsifal  

Have done, then!

 2nd Flower, 1st Group   Let him be: see, he favours me!  3rd Flower, 1st Group   Rather me!  3rd Flower, 2nd Group   No, me!  2nd Flower, 2nd Group   No, he favours me more!  1st Flower, 2nd Group   You’re resisting me?  1st Flower, First group   You drive me away?  2nd and 3rd Flowers, 1st Group;  3rd Flower, 2nd Group   You avoid me? Chorus I   What, are you afraid of women? All 2nd Group Flowers   Don’t you dare? Chorus II   Don’t you dare?  1st Flower, 1st Group   How meanly timid and cold you are![44] Choruses I and II   How mean!   So faint-hearted? 183

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 1. Blume, 2. Gruppe   Wie schlimm bist du, Zager und Kalter! Chor II   So zag und kalt!  1. Blume, 1. Gruppe   Die Blumen läßt du umbuhlen den Falter?  2. und 3. Blume, 1. Gruppe   Wie ist er zag![64]  2. und 3. Blume, 2. Gruppe   Wie ist er kalt! Chor I   Auf! Weichet dem Toren! Alle Blumen, 1. und 2. Gruppe   Wir geben ihn verloren. Chor II   Doch sei er uns erkoren! Chor I   Nein, uns! Alle Blumen, 2. Gruppe   Nein, mir gehört er an! Alle Blumenmädchen   Nein, uns gehöret er! Ja uns!   Auch mir! Ja mir! Parsifal (halb ärgerlich die Mädchen abscheuchend)   Laßt ab! Ihr fangt mich nicht![57] (Parsifal will fliehen, als er Kundrys Stimme vernimmt und betroffen stillsteht.) Kundry   Parsifal! Weile![54x] 184

act two

 1st Flower, 2nd Group   How meanly timid and cold you are! Choruses I and II   So timid and cold!  1st flower, 1st Group   Would you have the flowers woo the butterfly?  2nd and 3rd Flowers, 1st Group   How faint-hearted he is![64]  2nd and 3rd Flowers, 2nd Group   How cold he is! Chorus I   Away! Leave him to his folly! All Flowers, 1st Group   We give him up for lost. Chorus II   Then let him be our choice! Chorus I   No, ours! All 2nd Group Flowers   No, he belongs to me! All Flower Maidens   No, he belongs to us! Yes, to us!   And me! Yes, me! Parsifal (half angrily, driving the maidens off)   Have done! You shall not catch me![57] (He makes to escape but on hearing Kundry’s voice pauses in surprise.) Kundry   Parsifal! Stay![54x] 185

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(Die Mädchen sind bei dem Vernehmen der Stimme Kundrys erschrocken und haben sich alsbald von Parsifal zurückgehalten.) Parsifal   Parsifal?[54x]   So nannte träumend mich einst die Mutter. Kundry   Hier weile! Parsifal!   Dich grüßet Wonne und Heil zumal.[58]   Ihr kindischen Buhlen, weichet von ihm;[65]   früh welkende Blumen,   nicht euch ward er zum Spiele bestellt.[44]   Geht heim, pfleget der Wunden,   einsam erharrt euch mancher Held.[39] (Die Mädchen entfernen sich zaghaft und widerstrebend von Parsifal und ziehen sich allmählich nach dem Schlosse zurück.)  1. Blume, dann 3. Blume, 2. Gruppe   Dich zu lassen![44]  2. Blume, 2. Gruppe   Dich zu meiden!  3. Blume, dann 1. Blume, 1. Gruppe   O, wehe!  2. Blume, 1. Gruppe   O, wehe der Pein! Chor I und II  

O, wehe!

Alle Blumen, 1. Gruppe   Von allen möchten gern wir scheiden…[64] Alle Blumen, 1. und 2. Gruppe   …mit dir allein zu sein. Chor I und II   Leb’ wohl, leb’ wohl!   Leb’ wohl, du Holder, du Stolzer, du – Tor! 186

act two

(The maidens are terror-struck at the sound of Kundry’s voice and shrink back at once from Parsifal.) Parsifal   Parsifal?[54x]   Once in a dream my mother called me that. Kundry   Stay here! Parsifal!   Bliss and surpassing delight await you.[58]   You wantoning children, let him be;[65]   flowers soon to wither,   with you he is not destined to play.[44]   Go home, tend the wounded;   many a lonely hero awaits you.[39] (The terrified maidens reluctantly leave Parsifal and gradually retreat towards the castle.) First Flower, then 3rd Flower, 2nd Group   Must we leave you?[44]  2nd Flower, 2nd Group   Must we not see you?  3rd Flower, then 1st Flower, 1st Group   Alas!  2nd Flower, 1st Group   Oh what sorrow! Choruses I and II  

Alas!

All 1st Group Flowers   We would gladly be parted from all men…[64] All 1st and 2nd group Flowers   …to be with you alone. Choruses I and II   Farewell, farewell!   Farewell, you charming, fair boy, you – fool! 187

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(Mit dem letzten sind die Mädchen unter Gelächter im Schlosse verschwunden.) Parsifal  

Dies alles hab’ ich nun geträumt?[54]

(Er sieht sich schüchtern nach der Seite hin um, von welcher die Stimme kam. Dort ist jetzt, durch Enthüllung des Blumenhages, ein jugendliches Weib von höchster Schönheit – Kundry, in durchaus verwandelter Gestalt - auf einem Blumenlager, in leicht verhüllender, fantastischer Kleidung, annähernd arabischen Stiles – sichtbar geworden.)   Riefest du mich Namenlosen?[43] Kundry   Dich nannt’ ich, tör’ger Reiner,   „Fal parsi“,[54]   dich reinen Toren, „Parsifal“.   So rief, als in arab’schem Land er verschied,   dein Vater Gamuret dem Sohne zu,[42]   den er, im Mutterschoß verschlossen,   mit diesem Namen sterbend grüßte.   Ihn dir zu künden, harrt’ich deiner hier: [58, 31]   was zog dich her, wenn nicht der Kunde Wunsch? Parsifal   Nie sah ich, nie träumte mir, was jetzt   ich schau’, und was mit Bangen mich erfüllt.   Entblühtest du auch diesem Blumenhaine?

[1h, 63]

Kundry   Nein, Parsifal, du tör’ger Reiner![4]   Fern, fern ist mein Heimat.   Daß du mich fändest, verweilte ich nur hier.[65]   Von weit her kam ich, wo ich viel ersah.   Ich sah das Kind an seiner Mutter Brust,[65]   sein erstes Lallen lacht mir noch im Ohr:   das Leid im Herzen,[58]   wie lachte da auch Herzeleide,   als ihren Schmerzen 188

act two

(With this last, the maidens disappear laughing into the castle.) Parsifal  

Have I just dreamt all this?[54]

(He looks timidly to the side from which the voice came. There now appears through an opening in the banks of flowers, a young woman of great beauty – Kundry, completely transformed – on a couch of flowers, wearing a light, fantastic, veil-like robe of Arabian style.)   Did you call me, who am nameless?[43] Kundry   I named you, foolish innocent,   ‘Fal parsi’,[54]   you innocent fool, ‘Parsifal’.   Thus when he died in Araby   your father Gamuret called his son,[42]   to whom, still in his mother’s womb,   he gave his dying greeting with this name.   I waited for you here to tell you this: [58, 31]   what drew you here, if not the wish to know? Parsifal   I never saw, nor dreamt of, what now   I see, and which fills me with dread.   Do you too bloom in this bank of flowers?

[1h, 63]

Kundry   No, Parsifal, you foolish pure one![4]   Far, far away is my home.   I tarried here only that you might find me.[65]   I came from afar, where I have seen much.   I saw the child on its mother’s breast,[65]   its first childish sounds still laugh in my ear;   though sad at heart,[58]   how Herzeleide also laughed,   that in her grief the apple of her eye 189

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  zujauchzte ihrer Augen Weide!   Gebettet sanft auf weichen Moosen,[65]   den hold geschläfert sie mit Kosen,   dem, bang in Sorgen,[58]   den Schlummer bewach’t der Mutter Sehnen,[65]   den weckt’ am Morgen   der heiße Tau der Muttertränen.   Nur Weinen war sie, Schmerzgebaren,   um deines Vaters Lieb’ und Tod.   Vor gleicher Not dich zu bewahren,   galt ihr als höchster Pflicht Gebot.   Den Waffen fern, der Männer Kampf und Wüten,[58]   wollte sie still dich bergen und behüten.   Nur Sorgen war sie, ach! und Bangen:   nie sollte Kunde zu dir hergelangen.   Hörst du nicht noch ihrer Klage Ruf,   wann spät und fern du geweilt?   Hei! Was ihr das Lust und Lachen schuf,   wann sie suchend dann dich ereilt;   wann dann ihr Arm dich wütend umschlang,   ward dir es wohl gar beim Küssen bang?   Doch ihr Wehe du nicht vernahmst,[16]   nicht ihrer Schmerzen Toben,   als endlich du nicht wiederkamst   und deine Spur verstoben!   Sie harrte Nächt’ und Tage,[34a]   bis ihr verstummt die Klage,   der Gram ihr zehrte den Schmerz,[16]   um stillen Tod sie warb:   ihr brach das Leid das Herz,[58]   und Herzeleide starb. Parsifal (immer ernsthafter, endlich furchtbar betroffen, sinkt, schmerzlich überwältigt, zu Kundrys Füßen nieder)   Wehe! Wehe! Was tat ich? Wo war ich?[41z]   Mutter! Süße, holde Mutter! [42, 43]   Dein Sohn, dein Sohn mußte dich morden![16]   O Tor! Blöder, taumelnder Tor.[34a]   Wo irrtest du hin, ihrer vergessend,[7] 190

act two

  should cry for joy!   She fondly lulled to sleep with caresses[65]   the babe cradled gently on soft moss;   with anxious care a mother’s yearning[58]   guarded its sleep,[65]   and the hot dew of a mother’s tears   woke it at morn.   She was all mourning, child of sorrow,   for your father’s love and death.   To shield you from like peril   she deemed it her highest duty’s task.   She strove to hide and shelter you safe[58]   afar from weapons and men’s strife and fury.   She was all concern and foreboding   lest you should ever acquire knowledge.   Do you not still hear her cry of distress   when you roamed late and far?   Oh! How great was her joy and her laughter   when she sought and found you again;   when her arms clasped you tight   did you perhaps fear her kisses?   But you did not consider her woe,[16]   her desperate grief,   when you finally did not return   and left no trace behind!   She waited night and day[34a]   till her laments grew faint,   grief consumed her pain[16]   and she craved death’s release:   her sorrow broke her heart,[58]   and Herzeleide died. Parsifal (whose rising emotion has culminated in terrible perturbation, sinks overcome with distress at Kundry’s feet)   Woe is me! Alas! What have I done? Where was I?[41z]   Mother! sweet dear mother! [42, 43]   Your son, your son had to murder you![16]   Fool! Blind, blundering fool,[34a]   where did you wander, forgetting her,[7] 191

parsifal

   

deiner, deiner vergessend![16] Traute, teuerste Mutter!

Kundry   War dir fremd noch der Schmerz,   des Trostes Süße[25a]   labte nie auch dein Herz;   das Wehe, das dich reut,   die Not nun büße   im Trost, den Liebe dir beut. Parsifal (im Trübsinn immer tiefer sich sinken lassend)   Die Mutter, die Mutter konnt’ ich vergessen![16]   Ha! Was alles vergaß ich wohl noch?[3]   Weß’ war ich je noch eingedenk?   Nur dumpfe Torheit lebt’ in mir. (Kundry, immer noch in halb liegender Stellung, beugt sich über Parsifals Haupt, faßt sanft seine Stirn und schlingt traulich ihren Arm um seinen Nacken.) [36, 42] Kundry   Bekenntnis   wird Schuld in Reue enden,   Erkenntnis   in Sinn die Torheit wenden.   Die Liebe lerne kennen, [4, 36]   die Gamuret umschloß,   als Herzeleids Entbrennen[58]   ihn sengend überfloß!   Die Leib und Leben   einst dir gegeben,[4]   der Tod und Torheit weichen muß,   sie beut’   dir heut’,   als Muttersegens letzten Gruß,[16]   der Liebe ersten Kuß.[42] (Sie hat ihr Haupt völlig über das seinige geneigt und küßt ihn lange auf seinen Mund. [4, 9, 1e, 1h, 41] Plötzlich fährt Parsifal mit einer 192

act two

   

forgetting yourself too?[16] Oh dearest, beloved mother!

Kundry   If grief were still a stranger to you,   the sweetness of consolation[25a]   would never comfort your heart:   now assuage that distress,   that woe for which you grieve,   in the solace which love offers you. Parsifal (sinking deeper and deeper in his grief)   How could I forget my mother – my mother![16]   Ah, what else have I forgotten?[3]   What have I ever remembered yet?   Only dull stupidity dwells in me. (Kundry, still half reclining, bends over Parsifal’s head, gently touches his forehead and fondly puts her arm around his neck.)  [36, 42] Kundry   Confession   will end guilt in remorse,   understanding   changes folly into sense.   Learn to know the love [4, 36]   that enfolded Gamuret   when Herzeleide’s passion[58]   engulfed him in its fire!   She who once   gave you life and being,[4]   to subdue death and folly   sends you   this day,   as a last greeting of a mother’s blessing,[16]   the first kiss of love.[42] (She has bent her head completely over his and gives him a long kiss on the lips. [4, 9, 1e, 1h, 41] Parsifal suddenly starts up with a 193

parsifal

Gebärde des höchsten Schreckens auf; seine Haltung drückt eine furchtbare Veränderung aus; er stemmt seine Hände gewaltsam gegen das Herz, wie um einen zerreissenden Schmerz zu bewältigen.) Parsifal   Amfortas!   Die Wunde! Die Wunde![36]   Sie brennt in meinem Herzen![45]   O, Klage! Klage![41x]   Furchtbare Klage!   Aus tiefstem Herzen schreit sie mir auf.   Oh! Oh!   Elender!   Jammervollster![36]   Die Wunde sah ich bluten: [1f, 1e]   nun blutet sie in mir.   Hier – hier! [41x, 36]   Nein! Nein! Nicht die Wunde ist es. [4, 45]   Fließe ihr Blut in Strömen dahin! [4, 23]   Hier! Hier, im Herzen der Brand!   Das Sehnen, das furchtbare Sehnen,   das alle Sinne mir faßt und zwingt!   Oh! Qual der Liebe! [41x, 36]   Wie alles schauert, bebt und zuckt   in sündigem Verlangen! (Während Kundry in Schrecken und Verwunderung auf Parsifal hinstarrt, gerät dieser in völlige Entrücktheit.)[25]                    

Es starrt der Blick dumpf auf das Heilsgefäß: [8, 25] das heil’ge Blut erglüht:[1] Erlösungswonne, göttlich mild,[3] durchzittert weithin alle Seelen: nur hier, im Herzen, will die Qual nicht weichen. [41x, 36] Des Heilands Klage da vernehm’ ich, [1i, 41x, 50] die Klage – ach! die Klage um das entweihte Heiligtum: „Erlöse, rette mich [1b, 10] aus schuldbefleckten Händen!“ [1b, e] 194

act two

gesture of the utmost terror: his demeanour expresses some fearful change; he presses his hands hard against his heart as if to master an agonizing pain.) Parsifal   Amfortas!   The wound! The wound![36]   It burns within my heart![45]   O Sorrow, sorrow![41x]   Fearful sorrow!   From the depth of my heart it cries aloud.   Oh! Oh!   Most wretched!   Most pitiable![36]   I saw the wound bleeding: [1f, 1e]   now it bleeds in me!   Here – here! [41x, 36]   No, no! it is not the wound. [4, 45]   Flow in streams, my blood from it! [4, 23]   Here! Here in my heart is the flame!   The longing, the terrible longing   which seizes and grips all my senses!   O torment of love! [41x, 36]   How everything trembles, quakes and quivers   in sinful desire! (As Kundry stares at Parsifal in fear and astonishment, he falls into a complete trance.)[25]                    

My dull gaze is fixed on the sacred vessel; [8, 25] the holy blood flows:[1] the bliss of redemption, divinely mild,[3] trembles within every soul around: only here, in my heart, will the pangs not be stilled.[41x, 36] The Saviour’s lament I hear there, [1i, 41x, 50] the lament, ah! the lamentation from His profaned sanctuary: ‘Redeem me, rescue me [1b, 10] from hands defiled by sin!’ [1b, e] 195

parsifal

       

So rief die Gottesklage furchtbar laut mir in die Seele. [1f, i] Und ich – der Tor, der Feige,[60] zu wilden Knabentaten floh ich hin![59]

(Er stürzt verzweiflungsvoll auf die Knie.)[3x]    

Erlöser! Heiland! Herr der Huld! Wie büß’ ich, Sünder, meine Schuld?

[3, 9]

(Kundry, deren Erstaunen in leidenschaftliche Bewunderung übergegangen, sucht schüchtern sich Parsifal zu nähern.) Kundry    

Gelobter Held! Entflieh’ dem Wahn![66] Blick’ auf! Sei hold der Huldin Nah’n!

Parsifal (immer in gebeugter Stellung, starr zu Kundry aufblickend, während diese sich zu ihm neigt und die liebkosenden Bewegungen ausführt, die er mit dem Folgenden bezeichnet)   Ja! Diese Stimme! So rief sie ihm;[35]   und diesen Blick, deutlich erkenn ich ihn –   auch diesen, der ihm so friedlos lachte;   die Lippe – ja – so zuckte sie ihm,   so neigte sich der Nacken –   so hob sich kühn das Haupt;   so flatterten lachend die Locken –   so schlang um den Hals sich der Arm –   so schmeichelte weich die Wange! [4, 9]   Mit aller Schmerzen Qual im Bunde,[35]   das Heil der Seele [41x, 36]   entküßte ihm der Mund! (Er erhebt sich allmählich.)  

Ha! Dieser Kuß![42]

(Er stößt Kundry von sich.)    

Verderberin! Weiche von mir![4] Ewig, Ewig von mir![36] 196

act two

       

Thus rang the divine lament with terrible clarity in my soul. [1f, i] And I fool, coward,[60] fled hither to wild childish deeds![59]

(He flings himself in despair on his knees.)    

Redeemer! Saviour! Lord of grace! How can I, a sinner, purge my guilt?

[3x] [3, 9]

(Kundry, whose astonishment has changed to passionate admiration, hesitantly tries to approach Parsifal.) Kundry    

Honoured hero! Throw off this spell![66] Look up and greet your fair one’s coming!

Parsifal (still kneeling, gazing fixedly at Kundry, who bends over him with the caressing movement indicated in the following)   Yes! This voice! This was how she called him;[35]   and this look, truly I recognize it –   and this, smiling at him so disquietingly;   the lips – yes – they quivered for him,   thus she bent her neck –   thus boldly rose her head;   thus laughingly fluttered her hair –   thus her arms were twined about her neck –   thus softly she brushed his cheek! [4, 9]   In league with the pangs of every torment,[35]   her lips kissed away [41x, 36]   his soul’s salvation! (He has gradually risen.)  

Ah, this kiss![42]

(He thrusts Kundry from him.)    

Corrupter! get away from me![4] Forever, forever away from me![36] 197

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Kundry (in höchster Leidenschaft)   Grausamer![66]   Fühlst du im Herzen   nur and’rer Schmerzen,   so fühle jetzt auch die meinen![31]   Bist du Erlöser, [66, 32]   was bannt dich, Böser,   nicht mir auch zum Heil dich zu einen? [34a, b, c]   Seit Ewigkeiten harre ich deiner,[41x]   des Heilands, ach! So spät!   Den einst ich kühn geschmäht.[36]   Oh!   Kenntest du den Fluch,[58b]   der mich durch Schlaf und Wachen,   durch Tod und Leben,[23]   Pein und Lachen,   zu neuem Leiden neu gestählt, [41x, 36]   endlos durch das Dasein quält! [16x, 10]   Ich sah ihn… ihn… [1a, 8, 1f]   und lachte…[34]   Da traf mich sein Blick! [41x, 50]   Nun such’ ich ihn von Welt zu Welt, [1a, 8, 23x, 50, 41]   ihm wieder zu begegnen.   In höchster Not   wähn’ ich sein Auge schon nah’,   den Blick schon auf mir ruhn.[25]   Da kehrt mir das verfluchte Lachen wieder:[34]   ein Sünder sinkt mir in die Arme![45]   Da lach’ ich, lache,[34b]   kann nicht weinen,[34d]   nur schreien, wüten, [7, 34b]   toben, rasen   in stets erneueter Wahnsinns Nacht,   aus der ich büßend kaum erwacht. [23x, 36]   Den ich ersehnt in Todesschmachten,[1h]   den ich erkannt, den blöd’ Verlachten,   laß’ mich an seinem Busen weinen,[31]   nur eine Stunde mich dir vereinen, 198

act two

Kundry (with the utmost passion)   Cruel one![66]   If you feel in your heart   only others’ sorrows,   then feel mine too![31]   If you are a redeemer, [66, 32]   what maliciously stops you   from uniting with me for my salvation? [34a, b, c]   Through eternities I have waited for you,[41x]   the saviour so late in coming,   whom once I dared revile.[36]   Oh!   If you knew the curse[58b]   which afflicts me, asleep and awake,   in death and life,[23]   pain and laughter,   newly steeled to new affliction, [41x, 36]   endlessly through this existence! [16x, 10]   I saw Him… Him… [1a, 8, 1f]   and laughed…[34]   His gaze fell upon me! [41x, 50]   Now I seek Him from world to world [1a, 8, 23x, 50, 41]   to meet Him once again.   In my darkest need   I feel His eyes turn on me   and his gaze rest upon me.[25]   The accursed laughter assails me once again:[34]   a sinner sinks into my arms![45]   Then I laugh, laugh,[34b]   I cannot weep,[34d]   can only shout, rage, [7, 34b]   storm, rave   in an ever-renewed night of madness   from which, though repentant, I scarcely wake.[23x, 36]   On him for whom I yearned in deathly longing,[1h]   whom I recognized though despised and rejected,   let me weep upon his breast,[31]   for one hour only be united to you 199

parsifal

    Parsifal                                          

und, ob mich Gott und Welt verstößt, in dir entsündigt sein und erlöst![66] Auf Ewigkeit[36] wärst du verdammt mit mir für eine Stunde Vergessens meiner Sendung[54] in deines Arms Umfangen! Auch dir bin ich zum Heil gesandt, bleibst du dem Sehnen abgewandt. Die Labung, die dein Leiden endet, beut nicht der Quell, aus dem es fließt: das Heil wird nimmer dir gespendet, eh’ jener Quell sich dir nicht schließt.[43] Ein and’res ist’s – ein and’res, ach![41x] Nach dem ich jammernd schmachten sah, [18, 23x] die Brüder dort, in grausen Nöten, den Leib sich quälen und ertöten. Doch wer erkennt ihn klar und hell, des einz’gen Heiles wahren Quell?[11] O Elend, aller Rettung Flucht![41x] O, Weltenwahns Umnachten: in höchsten Heiles heißer Sucht nach der Verdammnis Quell zu schmachten! [36, 4]

Kundry (in wilder Begeisterung)   So war es mein Kuß,[63]   der welthellsichtig dich machte?[44]   Mein volles Liebesumfangen   läßt dich dann Gottheit erlangen.   Die Welt erlöse, ist dies dein Amt:[54]   schuf dich zum Gott die Stunde,   für sie laß’ mich ewig dann verdammt,   nie heile mir die Wunde! Parsifal  

Erlösung, Frevlerin, biet’ ich auch dir. 200

[57, 25]

act two

    Parsifal                                          

and, though God and the world disown me, through you I can be cleansed of sin and redeemed![66] For evermore[36] would you be damned with me if for one hour, unmindful of my mission,[54] I yielded to your embrace! For your salvation too am I sent, if you will turn aside from your desires. The solace to end your sorrows comes not from the source from which they flow: salvation shall never be bestowed on you until that source is sealed to you.[43] Another salvation – ah, a different one,[41x] for which, pitying, I saw the brotherhood [18, 23x] pining in dire distress, scourging and mortifying their flesh. But who can know aright and clear the only true source of salvation?[11] O misery that banishes all deliverance![41x] O blackness of earthly error, that while feverishly pursuing supreme salvation yet thirsts for the fount of perdition! [36, 4]

Kundry (in wild ecstasy)   Was it my kiss[63]   which made you all-seeing?[44]   The full embrace of my love   then would raise you to godhead.   Redeem the world, if this is your destiny:[54]   make yourself a god for an hour,   and for that let me be damned forever,   my wound never be healed! Parsifal  

I offer redemption, sinner, to you too. 201

[57, 25]

parsifal

Kundry     Parsifal      

Laß’ mich dich Göttlichen lieben,[44] Erlösung gabst du dann auch mir. Lieb’ und Erlösung soll dir werden, zeigest du zu Amfortas mir den Weg.

[57, 25]

Kundry (in Wut ausbrechend)   Nie – sollst du ihn finden![36]   Den Verfall’nen, laß’ ihn verderben,[34c]   den Unsel’gen,[34d]   Schmachlüsternen,   den ich verlachte – lachte – lachte!   Hah! Ihn traf ja der eig’ne Speer![1h] Parsifal  

Wer durft’ ihn verwunden mit der heil’gen Wehr?[36]

Kundry            

Er – er – der einst mein Lachen bestraft: sein Fluch – ha! – mir gibt er Kraft; gegen dich selbst ruf’ ich die Wehr, gibst du dem Sünder des Mitleids Ehr![44] Ha! Wahnsinn!

(flehend)          

Mitleid! Mitleid mit mir! Nur eine Stunde mein![32] Nur eine Stunde dein, und des Weges sollst du geleitet sein!

(Sie will ihn umarmen. Er stößt sie heftig von sich.) Parsifal  

Vergeh’, unseliges Weib![36] 202

act two

Kundry     Parsifal      

Let me love you, godlike as you are,[44] and you would then give me redemption. Love and redemption shall be yours if you will show me the way to Amfortas.

[57, 25]

Kundry (breaking out in fury)   Never shall you find him![36]   Let the fallen one perish,[34c]   that woeful[34d]   seeker after shame   whom I derided, laughed, laughed at!   Ha ha! He fell by his own Spear![1h] Parsifal  

Who dared to wound him with the holy weapon?[36]

Kundry            

He – he – who once punished my laughter: his curse – ha! – gives me strength; I will call the Spear against you yourself if you accord that sinner mercy![44] Ah, this madness

(beseechingly)          

Pity! Pity on me! Be mine for one hour![32] Let me be yours for one hour, and you shall be led on your way!

(She tries to embrace him. He thrusts her aside violently.) Parsifal  

Away, unholy woman![36] 203

parsifal

Kundry (rafft sich mit wildem Wutrasen auf und ruft nach dem Hintergrunde zu:)   Hilfe! Hilfe! Herbei![44]   Haltet den Frechen! Herbei!   Wehrt ihm die Wege!   Wehrt ihm die Pfade![34d]   Und flöhest du von hier, und fändest[5]   alle Wege der Welt,   den Weg, den du suchst,   deß’ Pfade sollst du nicht finden:   denn Pfad’ und Wege,[4]   die dich mir entführen,   so verwünsch’ ich sie dir:   Irre! Irre![7x]   Mir so vertraut –   dich weih’ ich ihm zum Geleit![41x] [4]

(Klingsor ist auf der Burgmauer herausgetreten und schwenkt eine Lanze gegen Parsifal.)[36] Klingsor   Halt da! Dich bann’ ich mit der rechten Wehr![7x]   Den Toren stelle mir seines Meisters Speer! [1h, 60] (Er schleudert auf Parsifal den Speer, welcher über dessen Haupte schweben bleibt.) [56, 25] Parsifal (erfaßt den Speer mit der Hand und hält ihn über seinem Haupte)   Mit diesem Zeichen bann’ ich deinen Zauber:[25]   wie die Wunde er schließe,   die mit ihm du schlugest,   in Trauer und Trümmer   stürz’ er die trügende Pracht! (Er hat den Speer im Zeichen des Kreuzes geschwungen: wie durch ein Erdbeben versinkt das Schloß. [36] Der Garten ist schnell zur Einöde verdorrt, [7] verwelkte Blumen verstreuen sich auf dem Boden. [44] Kundry ist schreiend zusammengesunken. Parsifal hält im Enteilen 204

act two

Kundry (starting up in a wild fury and calling into the back­ ground:)   Help! Help! Hither![44]   Seize the miscreant! Hither!   Bar his path!   Bar his passage![34d]   And though you flee from here and find[5]   all the roads in the world,   that road you seek,   that path you shall not find,   for any path and passage[4]   that leads away from me   I curse for you.   Stray and be lost![7x]   You whom I know so well   I give him into your power![41x] [4]

(Klingsor appears on the rampart and brandishes a lance at Parsifal.) [36] Klingsor   Halt! I have the right weapon to fell you![7x]   The fool shall fall to me through his master’s Spear! [1h, 60] (He hurls the Spear, which remains poised above Parsifal’s head)  [56, 25] Parsifal (seizing the Spear in his hand and holding it above his head)   With this sign I rout your enchantment.[25]   And the Spear closes the wound   which you dealt him with it,   may it crush your lying splendour   into mourning and ruin! (He has swung the spear in the sign of the Cross; the castle sinks as if by an earthquake. [36] The garden swiftly withers to a desert; [7] faded flowers are strewn on the ground. [44] Kundry falls to the ground with a scream. Parsifal pauses once more as 205

parsifal

noch einmal an und wendet sich von der Höhe der Mauertrümmer zu Kundry zurück.)    

Du weißt, wo du mich wiederfinden kannst!

(Er enteilt. Kundry hat sich ein wenig erhoben und nach ihm geblickt.)  [41x, 43]

206

act two

he hastens away, and at the top of the ruined wall turns back to Kundry.)    

You know where you can find me again!

(He hurries away. Kundry has raised herself a little and gazes after [41x, 43] him.)

207

Vorspiel [47, 4, 6, 25, 36, 1h, 55, 38]

Dritter Aufzug Im Gebiete des Grales. Freie, anmutige Frühlingsgegend mit nach dem Hintergrunde zu sanft ansteigender Blumenaue. Den Vordergrund nimmt der Saum des Waldes ein, der sich nach rechts zu aufsteigendem Felsengrund ausdehnt. Im Vordergrunde, an der Waldseite, ein Quell; ihm gegenüber, etwas tiefer, eine schlichte Einsiedlerhütte, an einen Felsblock gelehnt. Frühester Morgen. Gurnemanz, zum hohen Greise gealtert, als Einsiedler, nur in das Hemd der Gralsritter gekleidet, [44, 47, 4] tritt aus der Hütte und lauscht. Gurnemanz   Von dorther kam das Stöhnen.[7]   So jammervoll klagt kein Wild,   und gewiß gar nicht am heiligsten Morgen heut’.[20] (dumpfes Stöhnen von Kundrys Stimme)  

[4, 23x]

Mich dünkt, ich kenne diesen Klageruf.

(Er schreitet entschlossen einer Dornenhecke auf der Seite zu: diese ist gänzlich überwachsen; er reißt mit Gewalt das Gestrüpp auseinander, dann hält er plötzlich an.)          

Ha! Sie – wieder da?[4] Das winterlich raue Gedörn hielt sie verdeckt; wie lang’ schon?[5] Auf! Kundry! Auf! Der Winter floh, und Lenz ist da!

(Er zieht Kundry, ganz erstarrt und leblos, aus dem Gebüsch hervor und trägt sie auf einen nahen Grashügel.) 208

Prelude [47, 4, 6, 25, 36, 1h, 55, 38]

Act Three In the domain of the Grail. A pleasant spring landscape with a background of gently rising flowery meadows. The edge of the forest forms the foreground, and extends to the right to rising rocky ground. In the foreground, by the side of the wood, a spring; facing it, a little further back, a humble hermit’s hut leaning against a mass of rock. Very early morning. Gurnemanz, now a very old man, clad as a hermit only in the tunic of the knights of the Grail, comes out [44, 47, 4] of the hut and listens. Gurnemanz   From yonder came the groaning.[7]   No beast cries so piteously,   least of all today on this most holy morning.[20] (muffled groaning in Kundry’s voice)  

[4, 23x]

I seem to know that sound of lamenting.

(He walks firmly to a densely overgrown thorn thicket at the side, forces the undergrowth apart, then stops suddenly.)          

Ha! She here again?[4] The rough wintry thorn has been concealing her: for how long?[5] Up! Kundry! Up! Winter has fled, and Spring is here!

(He drags Kundry, quite stiff and lifeless, out of the bushes and carries here to a nearby grassy mound.) 209

parsifal

       

Erwache! Erwache dem Lenz! Kalt und starr![18b] Diesmal hielt ich sie wohl für tot: doch war’s ihr Stöhnen, was ich vernahm.

(Gurnemanz bemüht sich in allem, die Erstarrung von Kundry weichen zu machen. [38] Allmählich scheint das Leben in ihr zu erwachen. [44] Als sie die Augen endlich öffnet, stößt sie einen Schrei aus. [25, 36] Kundry ist in rauem Büßergewande, ähnlich wie im ersten Aufzuge; nur ist ihre Gesichtsfarbe bleicher; aus Miene und Haltung ist die Wildheit entschwunden. Sie starrt lange Gurnemanz an. Dann erhebt sie sich, ordnet sich Kleidung und läßt sich sofort [52, 18b] wie eine Magd zur Bedienung an.)          

Du tolles Weib! Hast du kein Wort für mich? Ist dies der Dank,[26a] daß dem Todesschlafe noch einmal ich dich entweckt’?

Kundry (neigt langsam das Haupt; dann bringt sie, rau und [52, 18b] abgebrochen, hervor:)   Dienen… Dienen! Gurnemanz (den Kopf schüttelnd)   Das wird dich wenig mühn’![47]   Auf Botschaft sendet sich’s nicht mehr:[5]   Kräuter und Wurzeln   findet ein jeder sich selbst.   Wir lernten’s im Walde vom Tier. (Kundry hat sich währenddem umgesehen, gewahrt die Hütte und geht hinein. Gurnemanz blickt ihr verwundert nach.)            

Wie anders schreitet sie als sonst![26a] Wirkte dies der heilige Tag?[25] Oh! Tag der Gnade ohnegleichen! [8, 1f] Gewiß zu ihrem Heile[3] durft’ ich der Armen heut’ den Todesschlaf verscheuchen. 210

act three

       

Awake! Awake to the Spring! Cold and stiff![18b] This time I think she really is dead: yet it was her groaning I heard.

(Gurnemanz does his utmost to restore Kundry’s numb circulation. [38] Gradually life seems to return to her. [44] When at last she opens her eyes, she utters a cry. [25, 36] Kundry is in the coarse robe of

a penitent, similar to that in Act One, but her face is paler and the wildness has vanished from her looks and behaviour. She gazes long at Gurnemanz. Then she rises, arranges her clothing and hair and at [52, 18b] once sets to work like a serving-maid.)          

You crazy woman! Have you no word for me? Are these your thanks[26a] for having woken you again from deathly sleep?

Kundry (slowly bows her head: then hoarsely and brokenly [52, 18b] brings out the words)   To serve… To serve! Gurnemanz (shaking his head)   It will give you little work![47]   We send out no more on missions:[5]   herbs and roots   each finds for himself;   we’ve learnt that from the beasts in the forest. (Kundry has meanwhile been looking about her, noticed the hut and gone inside. Gurnemanz gazes after her in astonishment.)            

How differently she moves from before![26a] Has the holy day brought this about?[25] O day of mercy beyond compare! [8, 1f] In truth it was for her salvation[3] that I was able to wake that poor soul today from the sleep of her death. 211

parsifal

(Kundry kommt wieder aus der Hütte; sie trägt einen Wasserkrug und geht damit zur Quelle. Sie gewahrt hier, nach dem Walde blickend, in der Ferne einen Kommenden und wendet sich zu Gurnemanz, um ihn darauf hinzudeuten. Gurnemanz blickt in den Wald.)      

Wer nahet dort dem heil’gen Quell in düst’rem Waffenschmucke? Das ist der Brüder keiner!

[57, 48, 42]

(Während des folgenden Auftretens des Parsifal entfernt sich Kundry mit dem gefüllten Kruge in die Hütte, wo sie sich zu schaffen macht. Parsifal tritt aus dem Walde auf; er ist ganz in schwarzer Waffenrüstung: mit geschlossenem Helme und gesenktem Speer schreitet er, gebeugten Hauptes, träumerisch zögernd, langsam daher und setzt sich auf dem kleinen Rasenhügel am Quell nieder. [47 & 5, 48] Gurnemanz, nachdem er Parsifal staunend lange betrachtet hat, tritt nun näher zu ihm.)    

Heil dir, mein Gast! Bist du verirrt, und soll ich dich weisen?

(Parsifal schüttelt sanft das Haupt.)  

[47, 48]

Entbietest du mir keinen Gruß?

(Parsifal neigt das Haupt)                    

Hei! Was? Wenn dein Gelübde dich bindet, mir zu schweigen, so mahnt das meine mich, daß ich dir sage, was sich ziemt. Hier bist du an geweihtem Ort:[25] da zieht man nicht mit Waffen her, geschlossenen Helmes, Schild und Speer;[60] und heute gar! Weißt du denn nicht, [25, 8] welch’ heil’ger Tag heut’ ist?

(Parsifal schüttelt mit dem Kopfe.) 212

act three

(Kundry returns from the hut: she carries a water-pitcher and goes with it to the spring. Looking into the forest, she perceives someone coming from the distance and turns to Gurnemanz to point this out to him. Gurnemanz looks into the wood.)      

Who is there approaching the holy spring, in sombre apparel of war? That is none of the brethren!

[57, 48, 42]

(During Parsifal’s entrance, which follows, Kundry moves away with the filled pitcher into the hut, where she busies herself. Parsifal emerges from the forest, entirely accoutred in black armour: with closed helmet and lowered spear he strides slowly forward with head bowed, dreamily and uncertainly, and seats himself on the small grassy mound by the spring. [47 & 5, 48] Gurnemanz, after gazing long in astonishment at Parsifal, now draws nearer to him.)    

Greetings, guest! Have you lost your way, and may I direct you?

(Parsifal gently shakes his head.)  

[47, 48]

Do you offer me no greeting?

(Parsifal bows his head)                    

Hey! What? If your vows constrain you to be silent to me, then mine charge me to tell you what is fitting. Here you are in a hallowed place:[25] no man comes here armed, with vizored helmet, shield and spear;[60] and today of all days! Do you not know [25, 8] what holy day this is?

(Parsifal shakes his head.) 213

parsifal

       

Ja! Woher kommst du denn? Bei welchen Heiden weiltest du, zu wissen nicht, daß heute der allerheiligste Karfreitag ist?

[25, 8]

(Parsifal senkt das Haupt noch tiefer)        

Schnell ab die Waffen! Kränke nicht den Herrn, der heute, bar jeder Wehr, sein heilig Blut der sündigen Welt zur Sühne bot!

[1e, i]

(Parsifal erhebt sich nach einem abermaligen Schweigen, stößt den Speer vor sich in den Boden, legt Schild und Schwert davor nieder, öffnet den Helm, nimmt ihn vom Haupte, und legt ihn zu den anderen Waffen, worauf er dann zu stummem Gebete vor dem Speer niederkniet. Gurnemanz betrachtet Parsifal mit Staunen und Rührung. Er winkt Kundry herbei, welche soeben wieder aus der Hütte getreten ist. [61, 18b, 57, 48] Parsifal erhebt jetzt seinen Blick andachtsvoll zu der Lanzenspitze auf.)[3]    

Erkennst du ihn? Der ist’s, der einst den Schwan erlegt.

(Kundry bestätigt mit einem leisen Kopfnicken.)    

Gewiß! ’s ist er, der Tor, den ich zürnend von uns wies.

(Kundry blickt starr, doch ruhig auf Parsifal.)    

[1, 3]

[1h, 55]

Ha! Welche Pfade fand er? Der Speer, ich kenne ihn.

(in großer Ergriffenheit)    

Oh! Heiligster Tag,[3] an dem ich heut’ erwachen sollt![41]

(Kundry hat ihr Gesicht abgewendet. Parsifal erhebt sich langsam vom Gebete, blickt ruhig um sich, erkennt Gurnemanz und reicht diesem sanft die Hand zum Gruß.) [25, 8, 25] 214

act three

       

No? Then whence come you? Among what heathen have you dwelt, not to know that today is the supremely holy Good Friday?

[25, 8]

(Parsifal bows his head still lower)        

Lay down your weapons! Do not offend the Lord, who today, bereft of all arms, offered His holy blood to redeem the sinful world!

[1e, i]

(Parsifal rises after a further silence, thrusts the Spear into the ground before him, lays shield and sword beneath it, opens his helmet, takes it from his head and lays it with the other arms, then kneels before the Spear in silent prayer. Gurnemanz watches Parsifal with astonishment and emotion. He beckons to Kundry, who has just emerged from the hut.[61, 18b, 57, 48] Parsifal raises his eyes devoutly to the spearhead.) [3]    

Do you recognize him? It is he who once killed the swan.

(Kundry assents with a slight nod of the head.)    

It is indeed he, the fool whom I wrathfully drove away.

(Kundry gazes fixedly, but calmly at Parsifal.)    

[1, 3]

[1h, 55]

Ah! How did he find the way? The Spear! I recognize it!

(with great emotion)    

O most holy day[3] that I should awaken to now![41]

(Kundry has turned her face away. Parsifal rises slowly from prayer, looks calmly about him, recognizes Gurnemanz and gently offers his hand in greeting.) [25, 8, 25] 215

parsifal

Parsifal   Heil mir, daß ich dich wiederfinde! Gurnemanz   So kennst auch du mich noch?[47]   Erkennst mich wieder,   den Gram und Not so tief gebeugt?   Wie kamst du heut’? Woher?[49] Parsifal   Der Irrnis und der Leiden Pfade kam ich;[6]   soll ich mich denen jetzt entwunden wähnen,   da dieses Waldes Rauschen[40]   wieder ich vernehme,   dich guten Greisen neu begrüße?   Oder irr’ ich wieder?[6]   Verändert dünkt mich alles. Gurnemanz   So sag’, zu wem den Weg du suchtest? Parsifal   Zu ihm, deß’ tiefe Klagen [45, 46x]   ich törig staunend einst vernahm,[55]   dem nun ich Heil zu bringen[1h]   mich auserlesen wähnen darf.[47]   Doch ach![6]   Den Weg des Heiles nie zu finden,   in pfadlosen Irren   trieb ein wilder Fluch mich umher:   zahllose Nöte,[38]   Kämpfe und Streite   zwangen mich ab vom Pfade,[6]   wähnt’ ich ihn recht schon erkannt.   Da mußte mich Verzweiflung fassen, [60, 25]   das Heiltum heil mir zu bergen, [1h, 55]   um das zu hüten, das zu wahren[38]   ich Wunden jeder Wehr mir gewann; [1h, 55]   denn nicht ihn selber   durft’ ich führen im Streite; 216

act three

Parsifal   I rejoice to have found you again! Gurnemanz   Then you still know me too?[47]   You recognize me again,   though grief and care have bowed me so low?   How have you come now, and from where?[49] Parsifal   Through error and the path of suffering I came;[6]   may I not think myself freed from it,   now that I hear again[40]   the murmur of the forest   and greet you anew, good old man?   Or do I still err?[6]   Everything seems changed. Gurnemanz   But tell me, to whom were you seeking the way? Parsifal   To him whose deep lamenting [45, 46x]   I once heard in foolish wonder,[55]   to bring him salvation[1h]   I dare think myself chosen.[47]   But ah![6]   An evil curse drove me about   in trackless wandering,   never to find the way to healing;   numberless dangers,[38]   battles and conflicts   forced me from my path[6]   even when I thought I knew it.   Then I was forced to despair [60, 25]   of holding unsullied the treasure [1h, 55]   to defend and guard which[38]   I earned wounds from every weapon; [1h, 55]   for I dared not wield this   itself in conflict; 217

parsifal

         

unentweiht führt ich ihn mir zur Seite, den ich nun heimgeleite,[25] der dort dir schimmert heil und hehr: des Grales heil’gen Speer.

Gurnemanz (in höchstes Entzücken ausbrechend)[2]   O Gnade! Höchstes Heil! [8, 1f, 3]   O Wunder! Heilig hehrstes Wunder![14] (nach dem er sich etwas gefaßt, zu Parsifal)                                                      

O Herr! War es ein Fluch, der dich vom rechten Pfad vertrieb, so glaub’, er ist gewichen. Hier bist du; dies des Grals Gebiet,[25] dein harret seine Ritterschaft. Ach, sie bedarf des Heiles,[47] des Heiles, das du bringst! Seit dem Tage, den du hier geweilt, die Trauer, so da kund dir ward, das Bangen wuchs zur höchsten Not.[4] Amfortas, gegen seiner Wunde, [45, 41x] seiner Seele Qual sich wehrend,[36] begehrt’ in wütendem Trotze nur den Tod.[46x] Kein Flehn, kein Elend seiner Ritter[49] bewog ihn mehr, des heil’gen Amt’s zu walten. Im Schrein verschlossen bleibt seit lang’ der Gral: so hofft sein sündenreu’ger Hüter, da er nicht sterben kann, wann je er ihn erschaut, sein Ende zu erzwingen und mit dem Leben seine Qual zu enden. Die heil’ge Speisung bleibt uns nun versagt, [68, 49] gemeine Atzung muß uns nähren; darob versiegte uns’rer Helden Kraft. [33, 29, 42] Nie kommt uns Botschaft mehr, noch Ruf zu heil’gen Kämpfen aus der Ferne; bleich und elend wankt umher 218

act three

         

unprofaned I have borne it beside me and now bring it home,[25] gleaming clean and bright before you, the holy Spear of the Grail.

Gurnemanz (breaking out in a transport of joy)[2]   O mercy! Bounteous grace! [8, 1f, 3]   O wonder! Holy, highest wonder![14] (to Parsifal, after somewhat composing himself)                                                      

Sir knight! If it was a curse which drove you from the rightful path, be sure its power is broken. Here you are: this is the domain of the Grail[25] whose brotherhood awaits you. Ah, it needs the healing,[47] the healing that you bring! Since the day you tarried here, the sorrow then made known to you, the anguish, increased to the extremes of distress.[4] Amfortas, fighting against his wound, [45, 41x] which brought torment to his soul,[36] in maddened defiance craved only for death.[46x] No entreaties, no misery of his knights[49] could move him to perform again his holy Office. The Grail has long lain enclosed within the shrine; thus its guardian, repentant of his sin, hopes to hasten his end, since he cannot die while he beholds it, and with his life to end his torment. The divine bread is now denied us, [68, 49] and common food cannot sustain us; thereby our hero’s strength is exhausted. [33, 29, 42] Never more do messages come here or calls from afar to holy war; our dispirited and leaderless knighthood 219

parsifal

             

die mut- und führerlose Ritterschaft.[47] In dieser Waldeck’ barg ich selber mich, des Todes still gewärtig, dem schon mein alter Waffenherr verfiel.[13] Denn Titurel, mein heil’ger Held,[25] den nun des Grales Anblick nicht mehr labte, er starb – ein Mensch wie alle![47]

Parsifal (vor großen Schmerz sich aufbäumend)   Und ich, ich bin’s,[67]   der all’ dies Elend schuf!   Ha! Welcher Sünden,[23x]   welches Frevels Schuld   muß dieses Torenhaupt   seit Ewigkeit belasten,   da keine Buße, keine Sühne [67, 42]   der Blindheit mich entwindet,   zur Rettung selbst ich auserkoren,[55]   in Irrnis wild verloren   der Rettung letzter Pfad mir schwindet! (Parsifal droht ohnmächtig umzusinken. Gurnemanz hält ihn aufrecht und senkt ihn zum Sitze auf den Rasenhügel nieder. [67, 23x] Kundry holt hastig ein Becken mit Wasser, Parsifal damit zu besprengen.)[32] Gurnemanz (Kundry sanft abweisend)   Nicht so!   Die heil’ge Quelle selbst [31, 30]   erquicke uns’res Pilgers Bad.[27]   Mir ahnt, ein hohes Werk[25]   hab’ er noch heut’ zu wirken,   zu walten eines heil’gen Amtes:   so sei er fleckenrein,[19]   und langer Irrfahrt Staub   soll nun von ihm gewaschen sein. (Parsifal wird von den beiden sanft zum Rande des Quelles gewendet. [24] Unter dem Folgenden löst ihm Kundry die Beinschienen, Gurnemanz aber nimmt ihm den Brustharnisch ab.) 220

act three

             

wander about, pale and woeful.[47] In this corner of the forest I myself lie hidden, silently awaiting that death to which my aged warrior lord surrendered.[13] For Titurel, my holy hero,[25] whom the sight of the Grail no longer revived, is dead – a man like all men![47]

Parsifal (springing up in intense grief)   And it is I, I,[67]   who caused all this woe!   Ah! What transgression,[23x]   what burden of guilt   must my foolish head   have borne from eternity,   since no atonement, no repentance [67, 42]   can free me of my blindness;   though I was appointed for deliverance,[55]   the last path of deliverance escapes me,   lost as I am in hopeless error! (Parsifal seems about to fall in a faint. Gurnemanz holds him upright and sets his down on the grassy mound. [67, 23x] Kundry hurriedly fetches a bowl of water with which to sprinkle Parsifal.)[32] Gurnemanz (gently repulsing Kundry)   Not with this!   The holy spring itself [31, 30]   shall refresh and bathe our pilgrim.[27]   I suspect he has today[25]   to fulfil a lofty task,   to perform the holy Office.   Then let him be free of stain,[19]   and the dust of lengthy wanderings   now be washed from him. (Parsifal is gently led by the two to the edge of the spring. [24] During the following Kundry loosens his greaves while Gurnemanz removes his body armour.) 221

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Parsifal   Werd’ heut’ zu Amfortas ich noch geleitet?[68] Gurnemanz (während der Beschäftigung)   Gewißlich; uns’rer harrt die hehre Burg:   die Totenfeier meines lieben Herrn, [33, 69, 10]   sie ruft mich selbst dahin.   Den Gral noch einmal uns da zu enthüllen,[25]   des lang’ versäumten Amtes[49]   noch einmal heut’ zu walten,   zur Heiligung des hehren Vaters,[25]   der seines Sohnes Schuld erlag,   die der nun also büßen will   gelobt’ Amfortas uns. (Kundry badet Parsifal mit demutsvollem Eifer die Füße. Parsifal blickt mit stiller Verwunderung auf sie.)[26a] Parsifal (zu Kundry)   Du wuschest mir die Füße,[19]   nun netze mir das Haupt der Freund! (Gurnemanz schöpft mit der Hand aus dem Quell und besprengt Parsifals Haupt.) Gurnemanz   Gesegnet sei, du Reiner, durch das Reine![27]   So weiche jeder Schuld[24]   Bekümmernis von dir! (Während Gurnemanz feierlich das Wasser sprengt, zieht Kundry ein goldenes Fläschchen aus ihren Busen und gießt seinen Inhalt auf Parsifals Füße aus; jetzt trocknet sie diese mit ihren schnell aufgelösten Haaren.) [27, 8, 32] Parsifal (nimmt Kundry sanft das Fläschchen ab und reicht es Gurnemanz)   Du salbtest mir die Füße,[44]   das Haupt nun salbe Titurels Genoß’,[24]   daß heute noch als König er mich grüße! 222

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Parsifal   Shall I be led today to Amfortas?[68] Gurnemanz (as he busies himself)   Assuredly; the great castle awaits us:   the solemn death rites of my dear lord [33, 69, 10]   summon me within.   Once more to reveal to us the Grail,[25]   once more to serve today[49]   the long-neglected Office   to sanctify the noble father[25]   slain by his son’s guilt,   which he must now expiate,   this Amfortas has vowed to us. (Kundry bathes Parsifal’s feet with humble zeal. Parsifal watches her in silent wonder.)[26a] Parsifal (to Kundry)   You wash my feet,[19]   now bathe my head, oh friend! (Gurnemanz scoops his hand in the spring and sprinkles Parsifal’s head.) Gurnemanz   May this purity bless you, pure one![27]   Thus may the load[24]   of all guilt be washed away! (While Gurnemanz solemnly sprinkles the water, Kundry draws from her bosom a golden phial and pours part of its contents over Parsifal’s feet, which she then dries with her hastily unbound hair. )  [27, 8, 32] Parsifal (gently taking the phial from Kundry and handing it to Gurnemanz)   You have anointed my feet,[44]   let Titurel’s companion anoint my head,[24]   that he may greet me today as king! 223

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(Gurnemanz schüttelt mit dem Folgenden das Fläschchen vollends auf Parsifals Haupt aus, reibt dieses sanft und faltet dann die Hände darüber.) Gurnemanz   So ward es uns verhießen;[57]   so segne ich dein Haupt,   als König dich zu grüßen.   Du Reiner!   Mitleidsvoll Duldender,[54]   heiltatvoll Wissender!   Wie des Erlösten Leiden du gelitten,[23x]   die letzte Last entnimm nun seinem Haupt! [57, 25] (Parsifal schöpft unvermerkt Wasser aus dem Quell.) Parsifal   Mein erstes Amt verricht’ ich so;[27] (Er neigt sich zu der vor ihm noch knienden Kundry und netzt ihr das Haupt.)    

Die Taufe nimm und glaub’ an den Erlöser!

[25, 11]

(Kundry senkt das Haupt tief zur Erde; sie scheint heftig zu weinen. [41, 50] Parsifal wendet sich um und blickt mit sanfter Entzückung auf Wald und Wiese, welche jetzt im Vormittagslichte leuchten.) [60, 28]   Wie dünkt mich doch die Aue heut’ so schön!   Wohl traf ich Wunderblumen an,[20]   die bis zum Haupte süchtig mich umrankten;   doch sah ich nie so mild und zart   die Halme, Blüten und Blumen,   noch duftet’ all’ so kindisch hold   und sprach so lieblich traut zu mir. Gurnemanz   Das ist… Karfreitagszauber, Herr! 224

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(During the following, Gurnemanz empties the phial over Parsifal’s head, gently strokes it and then folds his hands above it.) Gurnemanz   Thus it was promised to us;[57]   thus I do bless your head,   to greet you as king.   Pure of heart!   Pitying sufferer,[54]   enlightened healer!   As you have endured the sufferings of the redeemed,[23x]   lift the last burden from his head! [57, 25] (Unperceived, Parsifal scoops up water from the spring.) Parsifal   My first office I thus perform:[27] (He bends over Kundry, still kneeling before him, and sprinkles her head.)    

Receive this baptism, and believe in the Redeemer!

[25, 11]

(Kundry bows her head to the ground and appears to weep bitterly. [41, 50] Parsifal turns and gazes in gentle rapture on wood and meadow, which are now glowing in the morning light.) [60, 28]   How fair seem the meadows today!   Once I came upon magic flowers,[20]   which twined their tainted tendrils about my head;   but never did I see so fresh and charming   the grass, the blossoms and flowers,   nor did they smell so sweet of youth   or speak with such tender love to me. Gurnemanz   This is… the magic of Good Friday, my lord! 225

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Parsifal   O wehe des höchsten Schmerzentag’s! [1a, 8]   Da sollte, wähn’ ich, was da blüht,   was atmet, lebt und wieder lebt,[1f]   nur trauern, ach! und weinen! Gurnemanz   Du siehst, das ist nicht so.[28]   Des Sünders Reuetränen sind es,[8]   die heut’ mit heil’gem Tau   beträufet Flur und Au:[25]   der ließ sie so gedeihen.   Nun freut sich alle Kreatur   auf des Erlösers holder Spur,   will ihr Gebet ihm weihen.[28]   Ihn selbst am Kreuze kann sie nicht erschauen: [1, 3]   da blickt sie zum erlösten Menschen auf;   der fühlt sich frei von Sündenlast und Grauen,[20]   durch Gottes Liebesopfer rein und heil.   Das merkt nun Halm und Blume auf den Auen,   daß heut’ des Menschen Fuß sie nicht zertritt,   doch wohl, wie Gott mit himmlischer Geduld [42, 43]   sich sein’ erbarmt’ und für ihn litt,   der Mensch auch heut’ in frommer Huld   sie schont mit sanftem Schritt.[28]   Das dankt dann alle Kreatur,   was all’ da blüht und bald erstirbt   da die entsündigte Natur[25]   heut’ ihren Unschuldstag erwirbt.[21] (Kundry hat langsam wieder das Haupt erhoben und blickt feuchten Auges, ernst und ruhig bittend, zu Parsifal auf.)[20] Parsifal   Ich sah sie welken, die einst mir lachten:[44]   ob heut’ sie nach Erlösung schmachten?[8]   Auch deine Träne ward zum Segenstaue;[41]   du weinest! Sieh’, es lacht die Aue![28] 226

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Parsifal   Alas for the day of utmost pain! [1a, 8]   Now, I feel, should all that blooms,   that breathes, lives and lives anew[1f]   should only mourn and weep! Gurnemanz   You see that it is not so.[28]   It is the tears of repentant sinners[8]   that today with holy dew   besprinkle field and meadow:[25]   thus they make them flourish.   Now all creation rejoices   at the Saviour’s sign of love   and dedicates to Him its prayer.[28]   No more can it see Him Himself on the Cross; [1, 3]   it looks up to man redeemed,   who feels freed from the burden of sin and terror,[20]   made clean and whole through God’s loving sacrifice.   Now grasses and flowers in the meadows know   that today the foot of man will not tread them down,   but that, as God with divine patience [42, 43]   pitied him and suffered for him,   so man today in devout grace   will spare them with soft tread.[28]   Thus all creation gives thanks,   all that here blooms and soon fades,   now that nature, absolved from sin,[25]   today gains its day of innocence.[21] (Kundry has slowly raised her head again and looks up at Parsifal with tearful eyes in calm and earnest entreaty.)[20] Parsifal   I saw them that once mocked me wither:[44]   do they long for redemption today?[8]   Your tears too are a dew of blessing:[41]   you’re weeping. Look, the meadow is smiling![28] 227

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(Er küßt sie sanft auf die Stirne. [21, 8] Glockengeläute aus weiter Ferne.)[30] Gurnemanz   Mittag:[69]   die Stund’ ist da.   Gestatte, Herr, daß dein Knecht dich geleite! (Gurnemanz hat seinen Gralsrittermantel herbeigeholt; er und Kundry bekleiden Parsifal damit. Parsifal ergreift feierlich den Speer und folgt mit Kundry dem langsam geleitenden Gurnemanz. [29, 57] Die Gegend verwandelt sich sehr allmählich, ähnlicherweise wie im ersten Aufzuge, nur von rechts nach links. Nachdem die drei eine Zeitlang sichtbar geblieben, verschwinden sie gänzlich, als der Wald sich immer mehr verliert und dagegen Felsengewölbe näher rücken. [69, 16, 47] In gewölbten Gängen stets anwachsend vernehmbares Geläute. [30] Es öffnen sich die Felsenwände, und die große Gralshalle, wie im ersten Aufzuge, nur ohne die Speisetafeln, stellt sich wieder dar. Düstere Beleuchtung. Von der ersten Seite ziehen die Titurels Leiche im Sarge tragenden Ritter herein, von der anderen Seite die Amfortas im Siechbette geleitenden, vor diesem der verhüllte Schrein mit dem Grale.) [69, 47]  1. Zug der Ritter (mit Amfortas)   Geleiten wir im bergenden Schrein[8]   den Gral zum heiligen Amte,[25]   wen berget ihr im düst’ren Schrein   und führt ihr trauernd daher?  2. Zug der Ritter (mit Titurels Leiche)   Es birgt den Helden der Trauerschrein,   er birgt die heilige Kraft;   der Gott einst selbst zur Pflege sich gab:   Titurel führen wir hier.  1. Zug der Ritter   Wer hat ihn gefällt, der, in Gottes Hut,   Gott selbst einst beschirmte?  2. Zug der Ritter   Ihn fällte des Alters siegende Last,   da den Gral er nicht mehr erschaute. 228

[29, 42] [8, 69]

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(He kisses her gently on the forehead. [21, 8] A peal of bells in the far distance.)[30] Gurnemanz   Midday:[69]   the hour has come.   My lord, permit your servant to guide you! (Gurnemanz has brought out his mantle of the knights of the Grail, and he and Kundry clothe Parsifal. Parsifal solemnly takes up the Spear and with Kundry follows Gurnemanz, who slowly leads the way. [29, 57] The scene very gradually changes, as in Act One, but from right to left. After remaining visible for a time the three disappear completely from sight as the forest gradually vanishes and rocky vaults draw near in its place. [69, 16, 47] In the vaulted passages the sound of bells increasingly grows in intensity. [30] The rocky walls open, disclosing once more, as in Act One, the great hall of the Grail, but without the feast-tables. Dim lighting. From one side enter knights bearing Titurel’s body in a coffin, from the other those carrying Amfortas on a litter, preceded by the covered shrine with the Grail.)  [69, 47]  1st Procession of Knights (with Amfortas)   We carry in its sheltering shrine[8]   the Grail to the holy Office:[25]   whom do you shelter in that gloomy shrine   and bear here in sorrow?  2nd Procession of Knights (with Titurel’s body)   Within the shrine of mourning [29, 42]   lies the hero with the holy strength,   whom God Himself once took as His guardian:   we bear Titurel hither. [8, 69]  1st Procession of Knights   Who brought him low that, in God’s keeping,   once guarded God Himself?  2nd Procession of Knights   The conquering weight of years laid him low,   since he no more might look upon the Grail. 229

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 1. Zug der Ritter   Wer wehrt’ ihm des Grales Huld zu erschauen?  2. Zug der Ritter   Den dort ihr geleitet, der sündige Hüter.  1. Zug der Ritter   Wir geleiten ihn heut’, weil heut’ noch einmal,   zum letzten Male,   will des Amtes er walten.   Ach, zum letzten Mal![47x] (Amfortas ist jetzt auf das Ruhebett hinter dem Gralstische niedergelassen, der Sarg davor niedergesetzt worden; die Ritter wenden sich an ihn.)  2. Zug der Ritter   Wehe! Wehe! Du Hüter des Grals!   Ach, zum letzten Mal,   sei deines Amtes gemahnt!   Zum letzten Mal! Zum letzten Mal!

[30, 47x]

Amfortas (sich matt ein wenig aufrichtend)   Ja, Wehe! Wehe! Weh’ über mich! [41x, 47]   So ruf’ ich willig mit euch,   williger nähm’ ich von euch den Tod,[49]   der Sünde mildeste Sühne! (Der Sarg wird geöffnet. [9] Beim Anblick der Leiche Titurels bricht alles in einen jähen Wehruf aus. [45 & 36, 15] Amfortas richtet sich hoch von seinem Lager und wendet sich zur Leiche.)   Mein Vater![15]   Hochgesegneter der Helden!   Du Reinster, dem einst die Engel sich neigten:[14]   der einzig ich sterben wollt’,   dir gab ich den Tod!   O! Der du jetzt in göttlichen Glanz[14]   den Erlöser selbst erschaust,   erflehe von ihm, daß sein heiliges Blut, [10, 1f]   wenn noch einmal heut’ sein Segen 230

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 1st Procession of Knights   Who barred him from looking at the Grail?  2nd Procession of Knights   He whom you carry there, its sinful guardian.  1st Procession of Knights   We bear him in today, because once more,   for the last time,   he will serve the Office.   Ah, for the last time![47x] (Amfortas is now set down on the couch behind the altar of the Grail, the coffin placed in front: the knights turn towards him.)  2nd Procession of Knights   Alas! Guardian of the Grail!   Ah, for the last time   be mindful of your charge!   For the last time! The last time!

[30, 47x]

Amfortas (feebly raising himself a little)   Alas indeed! Alas! Woe be on me! [41x, 47]   Thus I willingly cry with you.   More willingly yet would I accept from you death,[49]   the lightest atonement for sin! (The coffin is opened. [9] At the sight of Titurel’s body all utter a sudden cry of woe. [45 & 36, 15] Amfortas raises himself high on his couch and turns toward the body.)   My father![15]   Most blessed of heroes!   Most pure, to whom the angels once bowed;[14]   I, who alone longed to die,   to you brought death!   O you who in divine radiance[14]   do behold the Redeemer’s very self,   entreat of Him that His holy blood, [10, 1f]   if once more today His blessing 231

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  die Brüder soll erquicken,[2]   wie ihnen neues Leben[25]   mir endlich spende den Tod! [8, 60]   Tod! Sterben!   Einz’ge Gnade![17]   Die schreckliche Wunde, das Gift, ersterbe,   das es zernagt, erstarre das Herz! [42, 43]   Mein Vater! Dich ruf ich,   rufe du ihm es zu:[17]   „Erlöser, gib meinem Sohne Ruh!“[1f] Ritter (sich näher an Amfortas herandrängend)   Enthüllet den Gral!   Walte des Amtes!   Dich mahnet dein Vater:   du mußt! Du mußt!

[30, 43]

(Amfortas springt in wütender Verzweiflung auf und stürzt sich unter die zurückweichenden Ritter.) Amfortas   Nein! Nicht mehr! Ha!   Schon fühl’ ich den Tod mich umnachten   und noch einmal sollt’ ich in’s Leben zurück?   Wahnsinnige!   Wer will mich zwingen zu leben?   Könnt ihr doch Tod mir nur geben!

[45 & 36]

(Er reicht sich das Gewand auf.)   Hier bin ich, die off’ne Wunde hier![45]   Das mich vergiftet, hier fließt mein Blut.   Heraus die Waffe! Taucht eure Schwerter,[7]   tief, tief, bis an’s Heft! [7x, 4]   Auf! Ihr Helden!   Tötet den Sünder mit seiner Qual, [60, 25]   von selbst dann leuchtet euch wohl der Gral! (Alles ist scheu vor Amfortas gewichen. Parsifal ist, von Gurnemanz und Kundry begleitet, unvermerkt unter den Rittern erschienen, tritt 232

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  shall revive these my brothers,[2]   as it gives them new life[25]   may at last grant me death! [8, 60]   Death! To die!   Unique mercy![17]   Take from me the hideous wound, the poison,   paralyze the heart it eats away! [42, 43]   My father! As I call to you,   I beg you call to Him:[17]   ‘Redeemer, grant my son repose!’[1f] Knights (pressing closer to Amfortas)   Uncover the Grail!   Serve the Office!   Your father exhorts you:   you must! You must!

[30, 43]

(Amfortas leaps up in wild despair and rushes among the knights, who recoil.) Amfortas   No! No more! Ha!   Already I feel the darkness of death enshroud me,   and must I yet again return to life?   Madmen!   Who would force me to live?   Could you but grant me death!

[45 & 36]

(He tears open his garment.)   Here I am, here is the open wound![45]   Here flows my blood, that poisons me.   Draw your weapons! Plunge your swords[7]   in deep, deep, up to the hilt! [7x, 4]   Up, you heroes!   Slay the sinner with his agony, [60, 25]   then once more the Grail shall shine clear on you! (All have shrunk back in dread from Amfortas. Parsifal, accompanied by Gurnemanz and Kundry, has appeared unobserved among the 233

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hervor und streckt den Speer aus, mit dessen Spitze er Amfortas Seite berührt.) Parsifal   Nur eine Waffe taugt:[25]   die Wunde schließt [1h, 3]   der Speer nur, der sie schlug. (Amfortas Miene leuchtet in heiliger Entzückung auf; er scheint vor großer Ergriffenheit zu schwanken; Gurnemanz stützt ihn.)  [45, 34a, 1h]            

Sei heil, entsündigt und gesühnt! Denn ich verwalte nun dein Amt. Gesegnet sei dein Leiden, das Mitleids höchste Kraft,[54] und reinsten Wissens Macht dem zagen Toren gab!

(Parsifal schreitet nach der Mitte, den Speer hoch vor sich erhebend.)    

Den heil’gen Speer, ich bring ihn euch zurück!

(Alles blickt in höchster Entzückung auf den emporgehaltenen Speer, zu dessen Spitze aufschauend Parsifal in Begeisterung fortfährt.) [14]              

O! Welchen Wunders höchstes Glück! Der deine Wunde durfte schließen,[3] ihm seh’ ich heil’ges Blut entfließen in Sehnsucht nach dem verwandten Quelle,[41] der dort fließt in des Grales Welle. Nicht soll der mehr verschlossen sein: [54, 1b] enthüllet den Gral, öffnet den Schrein!

(Parsifal besteigt die Stufen des Weihtisches, entnimmt dem von den Knaben geöffneten Schrein den Gral und versenkt sich, unter stummem Gebete, kniend in seinen Anblick. Allmähliche sanfte Erleuchtung des Grales. Zunehmende Dämmerung in der Tiefe, bei wachsendem Lichtschein aus der Höhe) [25, 2, 11] 234

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knights and now steps forward and extends the Spear, touching Amfortas’s side with its point.) Parsifal   But one weapon serves:[25]   only the Spear that smote you [1h, 3]   can heal your wound. (Amfortas’s features light up in holy ecstasy: he seems to stagger under overpowering emotion: Gurnemanz supports him.)  [45, 34a, 1h]            

Be whole, absolved and atoned! For now I will perform your task. O blessed be your suffering, that gave pity’s mighty power[54] and purest wisdom’s might to the timorous fool!

(Parsifal steps to the centre, holding the Spear aloft before him.)    

I bring back to you the holy Spear!

(All gaze in supreme rapture at the uplifted Spear, to whose point Parsifal raises his eyes and continues ecstatically.)[14]              

O supreme joy of this miracle! This that could heal your wound[3] I see pouring with holy blood yearning for that kindred fount[41] which flows and wells within the Grail. No more shall it be hidden: [54, 1b] uncover the Grail, open the shrine!

(Parsifal mounts the altar steps, takes the Grail from the shrine already opened by the squires, and falls to his knees before it in silent prayer and contemplation. The Grail gradually grows with a soft light. Increasing darkness below and growing illumination from above)  [25, 2, 11] 235

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Knaben, Jünglinge und Ritter (mit Stimmen aus der mittleren sowie der obersten Höhe kaum hörbar leise)   Höchsten Heiles Wunder![54]   Erlösung dem Erlöser![2] (Lichtstrahl: helles Erglühen des Grales. Aus der Kuppel schwebt eine weiße Taube herab und verweilt über Parsifals Haupt. Kundry sinkt, mit dem Blicke zu ihm auf, langsam vor Parsifal entseelt zu Boden. Amfortas und Gurnemanz huldigen kniend Parsifal, welcher den Gral segnend über die anbetende Ritterschaft schwingt.)  [11, 8, 25, 2]

236

act three

Boys, Youths and Knights (with barely audible voices from the middle and apex of the dome)   Miracle of supreme salvation![54]   The Redeemer redeemed![2] (A beam of light: the Grail grows at its brightest. From the dome a white dove descends and hovers over Parsifal’s head. Kundry slowly sinks lifeless to the ground in front of Parsifal, her eyes uplifted to him. Amfortas and Gurnemanz kneel in homage to Parsifal, who waves the Grail in blessing over the worshipping brotherhood of knights.)  [11, 8, 25, 2]

237

Select Discography For a discussion of historic and off-the-air recordings, see Robin Holloway, ‘Parsifal’, Opera on Record, ed. Alan Blyth (London: Hutchinson, 1979), pp. 440–51, or Kenneth Furie, ‘Parsifal’, The Metropolitan Opera Guide to Recorded Opera, ed. Paul Gruber ( London and New York: Thames and Hudson, 1993), pp. 734–39. year

cast



parsifal

conductor/orchestra

label

1928*† Gotthelf Pistor (parsifal) Ludwig Hofmann (gurnemanz) Cornelius Bronsgeest (amfortas)

Karl Muck Berlin State

Naxos Historical

1936*

Fritz Busch Teatro Colón, Buenos Aires

Marston/OAA (Live)

kundry gurnemanz amfortas klingsor titurel

René Maison Marjorie Lawrence Alexander Kipnis Martial Singher Fritz Krenn Fred Destal

239

parsifal

1950*

‘Africo Baldelli’‡ Maria Callas Boris Christoff Rolando Panerai Giuseppe Modesti Dimitri Lopatti

Vittorio Gui Italian Radio Symphony

1951*

Wolfgang Windgassen Hans Knappertsbusch Martha Mödl Bayreuth Festival Ludwig Weber George London Hermann Uhde Arnold van Mill

Naxos Historical (Live)

1953

Ramon Vináy Martha Mödl Ludwig Weber George London Hermann Uhde Josef Greindl

Orfeo (Live)

1962

Jess Thomas Hans Knappertsbusch Irene Dalis Bayreuth Festival Hans Hotter George London Gustav Neidlinger Martti Talvela

Philips Classics (Live)

1970

James King Gwyneth Jones Franz Crass Thomas Stewart Donald McIntyre Karl Ridderbusch

Pierre Boulez Bayreuth Festival

DG (Live)

1971

Jon Vickers Amy Shuard Louis Hendricx Norman Bailey Donald McIntyre Michael Langdon

Reginald Goodall Royal Opera House

ROH Heritage (Live)

Clemens Krauss Bayreuth Festival

240

Fono (Live)

select discography

1972

René Kollo Georg Solti Christa Ludwig Vienna Philharmonic Gottlob Frick Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau Zoltán Keleman Hans Hotter

Decca

1975

René Kollo Gisela Schröter Ulrik Cold Theo Adam Reid Bunger Fred Teschler

Herbert Kegel Leipzig Radio Symphony

Berlin Classics

1980

Peter Hofmann Dunja Vejzovic Kurt Moll José Van Dam Siegmund Nimsgern Victor von Halem

Herbert von Karajan Berlin Philharmonic

DG

1980

James King Yvonne Minton Kurt Moll Bernd Weikl Franz Mazura Matti Salminen

Rafael Kubelík Bavarian Radio Symphony

Arts Archives

1981

Reiner Goldberg Yvonne Minton Robert Lloyd Wolfgang Schöne Aage Haugland Hans Tschammer

Armin Jordan Monte Carlo Philharmonic

Erato

1984

Warren Ellsworth Waltraud Meier Donald McIntyre Phillip Joll Nicholas Folwell David Gwynne

Reginald Goodall Welsh National Opera

EMI

241

parsifal

1985

Peter Hofmann Waltraud Meier Hans Sotin Simon Estes Franz Mazura Matti Salminen

James Levine Bayreuth Festival

Decca (Live)

1990

Siegfried Jerusalem Waltraud Meier Matthias Hölle José Van Dam Günter von Kannen John Tomlinson

Daniel Barenboim Berlin Philharmonic

Teldec

1992

Plácido Domingo James Levine Jessye Norman Metropolitan Opera Kurt Moll James Morris Ekkehard Wlaschiha Jan-Hendrik Rootering

DG

2005

Plácido Domingo Waltraud Meier Franz-Josef Selig Falk Struckmann Wolfgang Bankl Ain Anger

Christian Thielemann Vienna State Opera

DG (Live)

2010

Gary Lehmann Violeta Urmana René Pape Evgeny Nikitin Nikolai Putulin Alexei Tano Vitski

Valery Gergiev Mariinsky

Mariinsky (Live)

*Edited Act Three only † Mono ‡ Hans Beirer

242

Parsifal on DVD – A Selection For a complete listing, including non-commercial and television films, up to 2004, see Ken Wlaschin, Encyclopedia of Opera on Screen (London and New Haven: Yale University Press, 2004), pp. 534–35). year

cast



parsifal

conductor

1981

Siegfried Jerusalem Horst Stein Eva Randová Hans Sotin Bernd Weikl Leif Roar Matti Salminen

director/company

kundry gurnemanz amfortas klingsor titurel

1982 Reiner Goldberg (voice) Armin Jordan Michael Kutter (acting: parsifal 1) Karen Krick (acting: parsifal 2) Yvonne Minton (voice)/ Edith Clever (acting) Robert Lloyd Wolfgang Schöne (voice)/ Armin Jordan (acting) Aage Haugland Hans Tschammer (voice)/ Martin Sperr (acting)

243

Wolfgang Wagner Bayreuth Festival

Hans-Jürgen Syberberg Feature film

parsifal

1992

Siegfried Jerusalem James Levine Waltraud Meier Kurt Moll Bernd Weikl Franz Mazura Jan-Hendrik Rootering

Otto Schenk Metropolitan Opera

1993

Poul Elming Daniel Barenboim Waltraud Meier John Tomlinson Falk Struckmann Günter von Kannen Fritz Höbner

Harry Kupfer Deutsche Staatsoper (VHS/ laser disc)

2004

Christopher Ventris Kent Nagano Waltraud Meier Matti Salminen Thomas Hampson Tom Fox Bjarni Thor Kristinsson

Nikolaus Lehnhoff Baden-Baden Festival

244

Select Bibliography Beckett, Lucy. Richard Wagner: ‘Parsifal’ (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981) Borchmeyer, Dieter. Drama and the World of Richard Wagner, trans. Daphne Ellis (Princeton and Oxford: Princeton University Press, 2003) Carnegy, Patrick. Wagner and the Art of the Theatre: The Operas in Stage Performance (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2006) Deathridge, John. Wagner Beyond Good and Evil (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 2008) Dreyfus, Laurence. Wagner and the Erotic Impulse (Cambridge, Massachusetts and London: Harvard University Press, 2010) Emslie, Barry. Richard Wagner and the Centrality of Love (New York: Boydell & Brewer, 2010) Eschenbach, Wolfram von. Parzival, trans. A. T. Hatto (London: Penguin, 1980) Grey, Thomas S. (ed.). The Cambridge Companion to Wagner (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008) Gutman, Robert W. Richard Wagner: The Man, His Mind, and His Music (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1968) Kinderman, William and Syer, Katherine R. (eds.). A Companion to Wagner’s ‘Parsifal’ (Rochester, NY: Camden House, 2005) 245

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Köhler, Joachim. Richard Wagner: The Last of the Titans, trans. Stewart Spencer (New Haven, CT and London: Yale University Press, 2004) Millington, Barry (ed.). The Wagner Compendium (London: Thames and Hudson, 1992) Millington, Barry and Spencer, Stewart (eds.). Wagner in Performance (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1992) Nattiez, Jean-Jacques. Wagner Androgyne: A Study in Interpretation, trans. Stewart Spencer (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993) Newman, Ernest. The Life of Richard Wagner, 4 Vols. (London: Cassell, 1933–47; New York: Knopf, 1946) Rose, Paul Laurence. Wagner, Race and Revolution (London: Faber and Faber, 1992) Spotts, Frederic. Bayreuth: A History of the Bayreuth Festival (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1994) Tanner, Michael. The Faber Pocket Guide to Wagner (London: Faber and Faber, 2010) Treadwell, James. Interpreting Wagner (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2003) Vazsonyi, Nicholas. Richard Wagner: Self-Promotion and the Making of a Brand (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010) Wagner, Cosima. Cosima Wagner’s Diaries, ed. Martin Gregor-Dellin and Dietrich Mack, Trans. Geoffrey Skelton, 2 vols. (New York and London: Collins, 1978–80) Wagner, Richard. Richard Wagner’s Prose Works, trans. and ed. William Ashton Ellis, 8 vols. (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1892–99) [‘Regeneration’ Writings in vol. vi] 246

select bibliography

Wagner, Richard. Selected Letters of Richard Wagner, trans. and ed. Stewart Spencer and Barry Millington (London: J. M. Dent & Sons, 1987) Weiner, Marc A. Richard Wagner and the Anti-Semitic Imagination (Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press, 1995) Williams, Simon. Wagner and the Romantic Hero (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004) Winterbourne, Anthony. A Pagan Spoiled: Sex and Character in Wagner’s Parsifal (Cranbury, NJ, and London: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 2003)

247

Wagner Websites In English or with an English-language option Bayreuth Festival: www.bayreuther-festspiele.de Richard Wagner Museum, Bayreuth: www.wahnfried.de Richard-Wagner-Verband: www.richard-wagner-verband.de Wagner Society UK: www.wagnersociety.org Wagner Society New York: www.wagnersocietyny.org The Wagner Journal: www.thewagnerjournal.co.uk Wagner Opera: www.wagneropera.net Wagner discographies: www.wagnerdiscography.com

248

Note on the Contributors Dieter Borchmeyer is Professor of German Literature and Theatre at the University of Heidelberg. His books include Richard Wagner: Theory and Theatre and Drama and the World of Richard Wagner. Barry Emslie is an independent scholar who lives and teaches in Berlin. His book Richard Wagner and the Centrality of Love was published by the Boydell Press in 2010. Robin Holloway is a composer and Professor of Music at the University of Cambridge. In addition to his many compositions, his publications include Debussy and Wagner, On Music: Essays and Diversions, numerous articles and music reviews. Carolyn Abbate is Professor of Music at Pennsylvania University. She has written extensively on Wagner and her publications include In Search of Opera and Unsung Voices: Musical Narratives in the Nineteenth Century. A History of Opera, co-written with Roger Parker, is published by Penguin in 2011. Gerd Rienäcker is a lecturer in the theory and history of music theatre at the Humboldt University, Berlin. His publications include Richard Wagner: Nachdenken über sein ‘Gewebe’. Mike Ashman is an opera director whose productions include Parsifal, Der fliegende Holländer and the Norwegian premiere of Der Ring des Nibelungen. He has contributed to Wagner in Performance, The Cambridge Companion to Wagner, The Cambridge Wagner Encyclopedia, Gramophone and Opera. 249

parsifal

Lionel Friend is a conductor with an international career in concert and opera. He has conducted Wagner productions in the UK, the USA and Australia and has assisted Daniel Barenboim at the Bayreuth Festival and Reginald Goodall in the UK. Wieland Wagner was the composer’s grandson. With his brother Wolfgang he was artistic director of the Bayreuth Festival from 1951 until his death in 1966. His productions there and elsewhere were hugely influential.

250

Appendix Parsifal Cross A psychological pattern Wieland Wagner

Wieland Wagner published a diagrammatic plan under the title Das Parsifalkreuz: Ein Psychologisches Schema in the programme for his Bayreuth production of Parsifal in 1951, the first year the Festival reopened after World War Two. This English version appeared in the 1954 programme. Wieland Wagner described it as ‘an attempt to express in graphic terms the fundamental ideas of the work, the relationship of the characters to each other and their place in the drama.’

Reproduced by kind permission of the Bayreuth Festival.

Acknowledgements We would like to thank John Allison of Opera magazine for his assistance and Mike Ashman, Lionel Friend, Charles Johnston and Barry Millington for their invaluable advice and guidance in the preparation of this guide. We are also extremely grateful to the Bayreuth Festival and the Richard Wagner Archive in Bayreuth.

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