And yet, Strauss is still surrounded by the trappings of the bourgeois life to which he so resolutely clung. The bow tie and the hydrangeas are a palpable anchor to his present, his reality, indicative of a Nietzschean struggle to overcome. They are, however, the things I love most about Strauss, that he can produce music of such immense strength and resolve and yet there is always the heart too, the longing at sunset after the time and effort-defying climb in Eine Alpensinfonie, Chrysothemis's 'Kinder will ich haben', the Marschallin's 'Mein lieber Hippolyte, Heut haben Sie ein altes Weib aus mir gemacht' and Barak's tenderest moments in Die Frau ohne Schatten.
Recently, I've heard so many people refer to Die Frau as a 'monster'. Certainly it's a big work, requiring immense forces to perform it. And yet I've always thought of it as an essentially tender piece, not least when it comes to the relationship between Barak and his wife – echoing Strauss's own marriage to Pauline – which while precarious, is what melts the 'steinere Herz' of the Empress. So I've written a piece, published in today's Independent on Sunday, which previews Die Frau ohne Schatten ahead of its return to Covent Garden for the first time in 13 years on 14 March. Rather than Strauss's 'flair for the gargantuan', I've focussed on 'the sensitive side of Richard Strauss', the version with bow tie and hydrangeas.
Nietzsche looked on such menschlich (even untermenschlich) traits unkindly in Also sprach Zarathustra – ‘you have evolved from worm to man, but much within you is still worm', he wrote – yet they are the elements which keep Strauss grounded in our humanity and which keep his music alive. Reconciliation of these elements may be the goal, but I rather love the personality 'mismatch' and I ponder whether it's something Strauss acknowledges in the unresolved conclusion to his tone poem derived from Also sprach Zarathustra. Click here to read the article.
0 Response to "Bow Tie and Hydrangeas "
Post a Comment