Author : Jos Hermans
The first stone
"Everything that had happened so far was a preparation for this moment", Friedrich Nietzsche wrote about the historic Wednesday of 22 May 1872, Wagner's 59th birthday and the laying of the foundation stone of his festival theatre. It was raining cats and dogs, the dignitaries had dropped out and the crowd was ankle deep in the mud. The stone was placed in its place and with it a capsule containing a congratulatory telegram from Ludwig II of Bavaria and a verse by Wagner: "Hier schliess ich ein Geheimnis ein, da ruh' es viele hundert Jahr: So lange es verwahrt der Stein, macht es der Welt sich offenbar".
He tapped the stone three times with the words: "Blessed be my stone, long and firm may you stand". Wagner was deathly pale and moved to tears. The rest of the ceremony took place in the Markgräfliche opera house. Wagner gave a speech and conducted Beethoven's Ninth with an occasional orchestra that he had assembled from the best orchestras in Germany, an idea that he would later use again. A huge banquet followed and by the end of the evening Wagner was quite exhausted but satisfied. How on earth had he managed it?
New directions for the opera
The bourgeois opera practice of his day filled Wagner with distaste and already in 1846 and 1848 he made proposals for the renewal of the opera in Dresden, where he was conducting at the time. Wagner wanted opera to convey ideas, explore human relationships and portray life with its good and bad sides. The audience, too, should make an effort and learn to experience opera as a transcendent aesthetic experience. Wagner's suggestions were dismissed and he decided that the problem was broader: a reform of the cultural world required a fundamental social reform. When the revolutionary wave swept over Dresden in 1849, Wagner joined in. The revolution was violently suppressed and Wagner had to flee. He ended up in Zurich and wrote some of his theoretical works there, all of them meditations on the role of art in society. In 1848 he had started work on the Ring, but by now he was convinced that his concept was so new and complex that he would never be able to stage it adequately in a conventional opera house. Wagner had to have his own theatre. Tormented by the impossibility of this utterly irrational hope, he could not get a single note down on paper for years. Fantasy alternated with despair. In September 1850 he wrote to Theodor Uhlig that if he could find 10,000 Taler he would build a theatre out of wood somewhere on a meadow near Zurich. He would invite the best singers and musicians, hold three free performances for all his admirers and then have the theatre demolished and burn the score. In October 1851, he wrote to the same Uhlig that his Nibelungen project had expanded to three operas preceded by an introductory work and that it would be appropriate to perform these works for one week in a new opera house somewhere along the Rhine. In January 1852, he explained to Liszt that it should take place in beautiful surroundings, far away from the industrial metropolises. He even toyed with the idea of building a floating theatre on Lake Lucerne.
Hope and Despair
Wagner's daydreams were incredibly eccentric: not only was there no prospect of financial intervention, but the operas themselves - the raison d' être of the whole project - had not even been composed! ! Not in the least deterred by such minor details, Wagner managed to persuade the eminent architect Gottfried Semper to leave London for a job in Zurich in case his opera project was ready. In the late 1850s, some opportunities did indeed present themselves. The Grand Duke of Weimar offered to sponsor the premiere of the Ring and to build a theatre for it in Weimar. Nothing came of it for all sorts of reasons. The Brazilian emperor Dom Pedro II was planning to commission Wagner to compose an Italian opera and, in connection with this, hold a competition for the design of an opera house in Rio de Janeiro. Wagner was prepared to rework his "Tristan und Isolde" into an Italian version and sent the emperor luxurious keyboard excerpts of three of his operas. Semper entered the competition. There was no reply and Semper's proposal was rejected. Wagner decided to change tactics and, contrary to all his previous ideas, to hold a smaller-scale festival in a conventional theatre of a large city like Paris, Vienna or Berlin and to perform his pre-existing works there. So in 1859 he went to Paris with the intention of organising a mini season that would last two months and would stage Tannhäuser, Lohengrin and the recently completed Tristan und Isolde. Only Tannhäuser made it to the stage in 1861 with 3 performances and became one of the biggest scandals in opera history due to the boycott by the local jockey club. With this, the Paris chapter was over for good. But Vienna also left him in the lurch. In 1862, Wagner published a preface to the text of the Ring in which we actually find the blueprint of his final festival theatre. This theatre, located in a small town, was to be a temporary construction, built of wood and designed for its artistic purpose. The auditorium was to have the form of an amphitheatre and the orchestra pit was to be invisible to the audience. The best orchestras from all over Germany were to be invited and the work was to be performed three times during a summer festival. Wagner concluded his preface by lamenting that this dream could only be realised with the help of a prince. "Does such a prince exist?" he asked himself.
Rex ex Machina
The next two years were the darkest of his life: no opera house wanted to perform Tristan und Isolde, his work on the Ring and Die Meistersinger came to a standstill, his marriage to Minna Planer came to a painful end, his health failed him and his debts became so pressing that he had to flee from his creditors. And then an incredible miracle occurred: the prince he could not find, found him. The 18-year-old Ludwig II, a fanatic from the moment he had seen Lohengrin three years earlier, had Wagner summoned just after his accession to the throne in March 1864. He had read the preface to the Ring and recognised himself in the rescuing prince. Ludwig was overflowing with enthusiasm, engaged Semper as an architect on Wagner's advice and commissioned him to build a monumental theatre of stone. Although a monumental structure in Munich was far removed from his original intentions, Wagner could not help but agree. He made it clear to Semper that he would prescribe the main features of the interior. Ludwig shared Wagner's contempt for conventional theatre and almost went mad with joy. But by the end of the following year, Wagner was frightened - the estimated costs were soaring and the first public controversy and opposition at court was felt. He asked Ludwig to build a temporary theatre inside the large exhibition hall of the Glasspalast in Munich. Here he would be able to test his visual and acoustic innovations for the first time. Ludwig did not intend to bow to the pressure of his courtiers but nevertheless commissioned Semper to also draw up the project for the Glasspalast. Semper's designs, which were adaptable for both theatres, were ready by May 1865. Ludwig was more determined than ever in his demand for a monumental theatre. And his dreams were getting bigger. A large new avenue through the centre of Munich would connect the royal palace with the theatre via a bridge over the Isar. He ordered a plaster model from Semper. Wagner's enemies at court got wind of the cost of the whole project and provoked a scandal. Ludwig had no choice but to ask his friend to leave Munich, and Wagner returned to Switzerland in December 1865, this time with a hefty annuity in his pocket.
The Glasspalast project died a quiet death through lack of interest on the part of the king, but his interest in the original project was rekindled in January 1867 when Semper came to show the plaster model to the king. Ludwig immediately gave orders to start work but then began to procrastinate and the work was postponed again month after month until this project also died a quiet death. Semper was treated shamefully and had to threaten a lawsuit to get his costs reimbursed. Ludwig now began to build his fabulous castles and Wagner, who was in fact satisfied with this fiasco because it did not fulfil his intentions, threw himself into his compositions. In his comfortable exile in Tribschen, on Lake Lucerne, he finished Die Meistersinger and large parts of the Ring. In the following years, Wagner had several disagreements with the king concerning the performance of his works: Lohengrin, Das Rheingold and Die Walkure were performed in Munich against Wagner's wishes. Ludwig's wishes and Wagner's ideals became irreconcilable, and cooperation was out of the question. Wagner had to have his own theatre, preferably as far away from Munich as possible, far from Ludwig's meddling.
To Bayreuth
On April 19, 1871, Wagner visited Bayreuth and decided to build his theatre here. Already in May he announced the first festival for the summer of 1873. The prominent Berlin architect Wilhelm Neumann was chosen instead of Semper, and Carl Brandt, the technical director of the Darmstadt opera house and the most famous theatre technician of his day, was given supervision of the construction. Neumann roughly followed Wagner's wishes but, like the Munich project, it was grand and costly rather than modest and makeshift. Wagner rejected the plans and the festival had to be postponed immediately until 1874. A new quarrel with King Ludwig arose, this time over the score of Siegfried, which had just ended. The king demanded the score for the performance of the work in Munich. Wagner refused and said he would rather burn the score and go begging. Ludwig swore that he would never help Wagner again. Wagner replaced Neumann with Otto Brückwald, a young architect from Leipzig, whose first design from May 1872 can be roughly traced back to the present building. Austerity was now Wagner's obsession, and he scrapped all decorations and the large foyers and gardens along both sides of the building. Construction began immediately after the foundation stone was laid and work was done every day, including Christmas. For Wagner, things could not go fast enough.
In search of money
The main advantage of the whole Bayreuth enterprise was that it gave Wagner artistic independence; the disadvantage was that it made him completely dependent on private money lenders. He thought he would find a large number of small donors who would not threaten his autonomy and would support his festival idea as "friends of his art". Thus was born the idea of "Patronat-Scheine" whose owner was guaranteed a seat at the planned performances. These certificates cost 300 Taler (about 900 marks) and Wagner hoped to sell 1000 of them, enough to finance the construction and the first festival. Wagner societies were founded to find such patrons. It was an ingenious plan, but again far ahead of its time as it did not catch on. The most important contributions came from abroad, from the Sultan of Turkey and the Viceroy of Egypt. By the spring of 1873, the financial situation became precarious and the work had to be stopped, because only 340 Patronat-Scheine had been sold. Nietzsche wrote his "Mahnruf an die Deutschen" to find support among the people. Wagner appealed to Otto von Bismarck, the chancellor of the new German Empire. Bismarck sent his cat and on 11 August Wagner had no choice but to write a begging letter to King Ludwig asking him to guarantee a loan of 100,000 Taler to complete the remaining works. Wagner was told that the king was preoccupied with the work on his castles. Wagner did not leave it at that and asked for an audience. This was refused and Wagner made a new request in January with the same result. Wagner now turned to Berlin and tried to interest Kaiser Wilhelm I in his cause by presenting the planned festival as a celebration of the 5th anniversary of Prussia's victory over France. The Grand Duke of Baden, who had been enlisted as an intermediary, refused to pass on the proposal. By the end of 1874 all hope seemed lost until on 25 January 1875 Ludwig finally reversed his decision and gave his consent for the loan of 100,000 Taler, under strict conditions: the sale of Patronat-Scheine and all proceeds of Wagner's concerts had to be used immediately for the repayment of the loan; in case of default, the theatre and its contents would become property of the Bavarian government. The legal decisions dragged on until after Easter, and then work could resume. By the summer of 1875, the building was largely completed. The austere building ultimately cost 428,000 Marks. By comparison, the ostentatious Opéra Garnier that was built at the same time in Paris cost 70 times more. Garnier was a symbol of the old order, both socially and architecturally; Bayreuth, on the other hand, became a symbol of the theatre of the future. However, so close to success, Wagner did not have a moment's peace. An endless stream of financial issues arose and made his life a hell. Bills kept pouring in for additional costs for gas lighting, costumes and scenery. When the costs rose too high, he asked King Ludwig to waive the repayment of the Patronat-Scheine as payment for the loan. Sometimes he agreed, sometimes he did not. Towards the end of 1875, it seemed that the festival would again be cancelled. Wagner again turned to the emperor, this time for a loan of 30,000 Taler. The Kaiser passed the request on to Bismarck, who in turn presented it to the Reichstag. Wagner protested, prepared to bow to his emperor and his chancellor but not to parliamentarians. Not only did he fail, but by turning to Prussia he also offended King Ludwig in the process. When the moment of the final rehearsals arrived in June 1876, Wagner was not even able to reimburse the singers and musicians for their expenses. For the umpteenth time Wagner appealed to King Ludwig for a small loan and together with the sale of 2000 tickets and a total of 500 Patronat-Scheine sold, there was just enough money to allow the festival to take place.
Wagner was accused of double-dealing, of playing Prussia off against Bavaria. In fact, he was someone with a great ideal and no money, and thus only capable of drawing the inevitable conclusion: the end justifies the means, and so he begged and borrowed wherever he could. He treated King Ludwig shamefully and Ludwig reacted with the forbearance that was downright saintly. Nothing was lost except honour. But Wagner would never have compromised the integrity of his art and for this he was prepared to sacrifice everything, including his honour. About his theatre he said to Cosima: "Every stone is red with my blood and yours".
Source : Frederic Spotts, "Bayreuth : A history of the Wagner Festival", Yale University Press, 1994