Tod und Verklärung (Death and Transfiguration), Op. 24
Richard Strauss (1864-1949)
Largo (The sick man, near death); Allegro molto agitato (The battle between life and death offers no respite to the man); Meno mosso (The dying man's life passes before him); Moderato (The sought-after transfiguration)
In 1894 Richard Strauss wrote a letter that included a description of Tod und Verklärung:
It occurred to me to present in the form of a tone poem the dying hours of a man who had striven toward the highest idealistic aims, maybe indeed those of an artist. The sick man lies in bed, asleep, with heavy irregular breathing; friendly dreams conjure a smile on the features of the deeply suffering man; he wakes up; he is once more racked with horrible agonies; his limbs shake with fever; as the attack passes and the pains leave off, his thoughts wander through his past life; his childhood passes before him, the time of his youth with its strivings and passions and then, as the pains begin to return, there appear to him the fruit of his life’s path, the conception, the ideal which he has not been able to complete, since it is not for man to be able to accomplish such things. The hour of death approaches, the soul leaves the body to find those things which could not be fulfilled here below, now gloriously achieved in everlasting space.
Strauss considered this scenario vital to an understanding of the work. His friend Alexander Ritter expanded and adapted it into a 62-line poem, later to be incorporated into the published score.
This is a little strange on two accounts. First, the message is somewhat hidden in the music, not especially easy for listeners to discern at first hearing. Despite the inclusion of ‘leitmotifs’, akin to those that inhabit the music dramas of Richard Wagner, the connections between the music and the scenario are not immediately apparent, even when the motifs are ‘registered’ in advance by the listener, as Strauss suggested they should be. This means that listeners should do their homework on the connections to help them to understand what is going on. Second, Strauss seemed premature in pontificating on the mysteries of death. He was a mere 25 years of age when he wrote this tone poem, having penned the sensational Don Juan in 1888, one year earlier. Till Eulenspiegel was next to come. Tod und Verklärung may be about death and what follows it, but is the experience of death the same for everyone? Strauss clearly thought he had articulated a truth of sorts back in 1889. On his deathbed, 61 years later, his final words, uttered to his daughter-in-law, provided a chilling note of certainty: ‘Funny thing, Alice - dying is just the way I composed it in Tod und Verklärung’.
This tone poem is less well-known than those that flank it, possibly because of its subject matter, but more probably because it starts enigmatically and draws in the listener bit by bit. It lacks a sensational introduction like those to many of his other tone poems, the best-known being Also Sprach Zarathustra, hijacked so successfully for the film ‘2001 a Space Odyssey’. The complex explanation, cited above, the insistence that listeners should ‘learn’ the leitmotifs and the shadowy opening are often regarded as hurdles, but an open mind and a receptive ear should succumb willingly to the sensuousness of Strauss’s orchestration and his gift for melody. The music holds together beautifully and leaves us with emotions of fulfilment and joy. It may be rewarding simply to bathe luxuriously in the sound as it is, and to place its intended associations a little to one side for later consideration.
Richard Strauss (1864-1949)
Largo (The sick man, near death); Allegro molto agitato (The battle between life and death offers no respite to the man); Meno mosso (The dying man's life passes before him); Moderato (The sought-after transfiguration)
In 1894 Richard Strauss wrote a letter that included a description of Tod und Verklärung:
It occurred to me to present in the form of a tone poem the dying hours of a man who had striven toward the highest idealistic aims, maybe indeed those of an artist. The sick man lies in bed, asleep, with heavy irregular breathing; friendly dreams conjure a smile on the features of the deeply suffering man; he wakes up; he is once more racked with horrible agonies; his limbs shake with fever; as the attack passes and the pains leave off, his thoughts wander through his past life; his childhood passes before him, the time of his youth with its strivings and passions and then, as the pains begin to return, there appear to him the fruit of his life’s path, the conception, the ideal which he has not been able to complete, since it is not for man to be able to accomplish such things. The hour of death approaches, the soul leaves the body to find those things which could not be fulfilled here below, now gloriously achieved in everlasting space.
Strauss considered this scenario vital to an understanding of the work. His friend Alexander Ritter expanded and adapted it into a 62-line poem, later to be incorporated into the published score.
This is a little strange on two accounts. First, the message is somewhat hidden in the music, not especially easy for listeners to discern at first hearing. Despite the inclusion of ‘leitmotifs’, akin to those that inhabit the music dramas of Richard Wagner, the connections between the music and the scenario are not immediately apparent, even when the motifs are ‘registered’ in advance by the listener, as Strauss suggested they should be. This means that listeners should do their homework on the connections to help them to understand what is going on. Second, Strauss seemed premature in pontificating on the mysteries of death. He was a mere 25 years of age when he wrote this tone poem, having penned the sensational Don Juan in 1888, one year earlier. Till Eulenspiegel was next to come. Tod und Verklärung may be about death and what follows it, but is the experience of death the same for everyone? Strauss clearly thought he had articulated a truth of sorts back in 1889. On his deathbed, 61 years later, his final words, uttered to his daughter-in-law, provided a chilling note of certainty: ‘Funny thing, Alice - dying is just the way I composed it in Tod und Verklärung’.
This tone poem is less well-known than those that flank it, possibly because of its subject matter, but more probably because it starts enigmatically and draws in the listener bit by bit. It lacks a sensational introduction like those to many of his other tone poems, the best-known being Also Sprach Zarathustra, hijacked so successfully for the film ‘2001 a Space Odyssey’. The complex explanation, cited above, the insistence that listeners should ‘learn’ the leitmotifs and the shadowy opening are often regarded as hurdles, but an open mind and a receptive ear should succumb willingly to the sensuousness of Strauss’s orchestration and his gift for melody. The music holds together beautifully and leaves us with emotions of fulfilment and joy. It may be rewarding simply to bathe luxuriously in the sound as it is, and to place its intended associations a little to one side for later consideration.