Richard Strauss's "Der Rosenkavalier" (extracts)

Continuing my series of program notes:

Richard Strauss (1864-1949)

Der Rosenkavalier, Op.59 – extracts

Der Rosenkavalier was the fifth of Richard Strauss’ operas, the second written in collaboration with librettist, Hugo von Hofmannsthal. The title (The Knight of the Rose) derives from a bit of stage business (purported to be an 18^th century custom, but invented by Hofmannsthal) whereby a knighted emissary presents a silver rose to a woman on behalf of her suitor. 

Robert Sterl's 1912 painting of Ernst von Schuch conducting Der Rosenkavalier

When it first appeared, Der Rosenkavalier was seen by many critics as a retreat from the atonal modernism of Strauss’s two immediately previous stage works – Salome and Elektra. Strauss had wanted to write a ‘Mozartian opera’ after Elektra, but Der Rosenkavalier has a sumptuousness which exceeds classicism. Its plot possesses some similarities with The Marriage of Figaro, but this ‘comedy for music’ is elevated by character portraiture that has rarely been surpassed in opera. It remains Strauss’ most popular, indeed best-loved, work.

Set in Vienna in 1740, Der Rosenkavalier, tells how the 17 year-old Octavian outwits the bullish Baron Ochs auf Lerchenau in his quest for the hand of the young convent girl, Sophie. But that is not all: it is a story of the magic of love at first sight; of nostalgia, self-sacrifice and the passing of time. Octavian, the ‘Knight’, first lays eyes on Sophie during the presentation of the Rose. Strauss’s orchestra wonderfully expresses the slow-motion intoxication of the moment. Octavian must first be given up by his older lover, the Feldmarschallin, Marie-Thérèse, who has known all along, somewhere inside, that one day he would fall for someone his own age, and whose realisation accounts for the change in the first act from amorous enthusiasm to mood of regret, and whose proud surrender is the background for the glorious Trio which climaxes the opera.
Strauss’ score retains a Mozartian level of beauty throughout (not even compromised by scenes of raw burlesque such as the stage-managed outwitting of Ochs in the Third Act). The ‘Viennese waltzes’, though anachronistic, are of such quality that, by this opera alone, Richard Strauss could almost challenge his unrelated namesake for the title of ‘Waltz King’.
Tonight’s extracts revolve around the three main characters – the Feldmarschallin, Octavian (sung by a soprano) and Sophie. During the orchestral introduction we can imagine the passionate love of Octavian and the Feldmarschallin between the sheets. The curtain rises. There is some minor bickering as when Octavian leaves his sword where Mahomet, the Feldmarschallin’s pageboy, might see it when he brings in her morning chocolate, but the big rift is yet to happen. They are still calling each other: ‘Mein Schatz!’ and ‘Mein Bub!’ After the Marschallin’s morning levée after everyone has left, including Ochs (‘der aufgeblasne, schlechte Kerl’), the Marschallin realises that she is growing older, and she tells Octavian that sooner or later (‘heut oder morgen’) he will leave her for a woman his own age. Vehemently denying it, he leaves in a huff. But Ochs and the Marschallin have arranged for Octavian to present the silver rose to Ochs’ fiancée, Sophie. Almost as if fated, he and Sophie fall in love. After the predatory Ochs has been driven off, Octavian finds himself face to face with the Marschallin who sees immediately that he has transferred his affections. She releases him to love the girl she said he would find ‘heut oder morgen’, and Octavian and Sophie express their disbelief at what has happened so quickly in ‘Ist ein Traum’. The Marschallin takes her leave, but Mahomet comes in once last time to collect the handkerchief she has left behind.

G.K. Williams © 2011

This note first appeared in program booklets of orchestras associated with Symphony Services International (http://symphonyinternational.net/). Please contact me if you would like to reprint this note in a program booklet. If you would like to read more of my notes on this blog please see:

Edward Elgar's Froissart, published 2 July 2013
Aaron Copland's A Lincoln Portrait, published 3 July 2013
Franz Waxman's Carmen-fantaisie, published 6 July 2013
Jan Sibelius's Oceanides, published 8 July 2013
Richard Wagner's Tristan and Isolde: Prelude and Liebestod, published 12 July 2013
Aaron Copland's Eight Poems of Emily Dickinson, published 18 July 2013
John Williams' Escapades, published 22 July 2013
Thomas Adès's Violin Concerto Concentric Paths, published 26 July 2013
J.S. Bach's Cantata: "Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott", BWV.80, published 28 July 2013
Beethoven's 5th and 6th Symphonies, published 29 July 2013
Wagner's Götterdämmerung (Immolation Scene), published 31 July 2013
Liszt's Tasso, published 2 August 2013
Stravinsky's Les Noces orchestrated by Steven Stucky, published 8 August 2013
Liszt's Hamlet, published 15 August 2013
Scriabin's Piano Concerto, published 18 August 2013
Christopher Rouse's Der gerettete Alberich, published 27 August 2013

Lyrical lessons from Der Rosenkavalier

Sometimes I despair of the endless recitativo of modern opera, this fallacious idea that the music should underscore the words. These passages remind me of Kenneth Hince's phrase: 'acres and acres of interminable mudflat', which he applied unfairly to Brahms, but which describes much contemporary opera better. I think this 'unending recitative' (which is not what Wagner asked for; he asked for 'unending melody') comes from a mistaken belief that words are the primary element in drama. They're not. It's the pyschological beat.
I believe that librettists can play their part to remedy this by creating events and situations that cannot fail but inspire melody, and instruct the composer not to follow the words, but to follow the metre, motivation and action.
I was intrigued by Der Rosenkavalier the other night because a lot of the vocal part is recitativo. Certainly Baron Ochs's part is mostly parlando. And yet the impression is not that dreary sub-lyrical sensation of contemporary opera. Why not? Because there is the constant lilt of waltz-time underneath, a frequent rising to peaks of melody. Opera situations have to rise to melody, or why bother?

Noblesse obliges and spreads

We went downtown (San Diego) to the opera last night. I find myself mostly these days appreciating turns of the plot and trying to remember how turns are affected. (I haven't SEEN Der Rosenkavalier since Opera Australia's production in 1973.) How do they get Ochs to the tavern at the beginning of Act III if we're near the end of Act II and he is left onstage alone remembering his favourite song? Why would he go? How is it explained? Is there a jump? No, Annina, the intriguer, comes back in having been hired by Octavian offstage to arrange an assignation. 'Offstage' is so useful. And these days I also enjoy the way the music weaves in further details - the morning music that had accompanied Octavian and the Marschallin in bed now accompanies Octavian and Sophie's getting together.

On the way back to the venue, however, after a coffee at Starbucks, we noticed that there was a banner on the grand old 1910 Hotel US Grant which said, 'Sycuan Band of the Kumeyaay Nation'.  I wondered why this was there. Then, before the performance, the 'please turn off your cell phones' message was sponsored by the Sycuan Casino.  I looked this up on Google and yes, it's a casino owned by the Sycuan (pronounced: suh-KWAHN) Indians, who now also own the downtown hotel named after President Grant, who granted them (no pun intended) land north of here in 1875, and seem to be benefitting ultimately, as many Native American bands now do, from the assertion of Indian sovereignty in Chief Justice Marshall's decision in Worcester vs Georgia. The Sycuan seem to be quite a success story. According to the Sycuan's website, there are only about 120 Sycuan, but who support - it must be - around 400 organisations, including 911 for Kids Foundation, Adopt a Block, American Indian Film Festival, American Parkinson Disease Association, Amputees in Motion, Back Country Square Dance Association, Bonita Vista School District, the Braille Institute, the Burn Institute, the California Association of Hostage Negotiators, North Coast Repertory Theater, Patrick Henry High School, Pauma Indian Reservation, Parkway Bowl's 200 Club... and that's not even really scrolling down! I find it interesting to consider how this sovereignty works within states and how it doesn't conflict, but I dare say it's a bit like having the ACT in the middle of NSW.