Opera Die Frau ohne Schatten Program Notes, Sheet Music and Recordings

Program Notes & Analysis

A "Magic Flute" for the 20th Century: Strauss's Great Symphonic Myth

After the world-conquering, "commercial" success of Der Rosenkavalier in 1911, Richard Strauss was eager for another "charming" comedy. His librettist, the poet Hugo von Hofmannsthal, was not. Hofmannsthal felt they had a higher calling. He wanted to create their "masterpiece," a "magic opera" that would stand as a 20th-century answer to Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte. The result was Die Frau ohne Schatten. It was a "problem child" from the start. The libretto, which took Hofmannsthal years to perfect, was a dense, complex, psychological allegory. The composition was interrupted by the outbreak of World War I, and the "fairy tale" about humanity and childbirth took on a dark, desperate new meaning as Strauss worked on it while the "old world" of Austria and Germany was tearing itself apart. The 1919 premiere in Vienna was a "magnificent failure"—a production of "unprecedented luxury" (as one critic called it) for a world bankrupted by war, and a story of such profound "difficulty" that audiences were left stunned rather than charmed. Strauss himself knew the opera was a "heavy" and "complex" work, but he and Hofmannsthal both considered it their crowning achievement, the "summit" of their collaboration.

The "Shadow" and the "Test": A Symbolic Journey

Like Mozart’s The Magic Flute, Die Frau ohne Schatten is a Zauberoper (magic opera) built on the "test" of two opposing couples. One couple is "noble" and "spiritual" (the Emperor and Empress), and the other is "earthy" and "human" (Barak the Dyer and his Wife). The opera's entire, complex plot revolves around one, central symbol: the "shadow." Hofmannsthal's libretto is a "psychological" treatise. To be "shadowless" is to be a spirit, a "half-being"—it is to be sterile, cold, and incomplete. To "cast a shadow" is to be fully human, which means to be fertile, to be mortal, and, most importantly, to be compassionate. The Empress, a spirit, is childless. The Dyer's Wife, a human, is also childless, but by "choice" (she is frustrated and refuses to bear children). The opera is not a "drama" in the traditional sense; it is a "trial." It is the story of the Empress's journey down from her cold, spirit world into the "messy" human world, where she must learn "empathy" in order to earn her humanity, rather than "steal" it.

An "Anti-Verismo" Drama

The plot is a "bargain with the devil." The Empress has one chance to save her husband, the Emperor, from being turned to stone: she must "buy" a shadow from a mortal. Her guide on this journey is her sinister, "Mephistophelian" Nurse (a terrifying dramatic mezzo-soprano role), who loathes all of humanity. They descend to the human world and find the Dyer's Wife, a young, bitter, and deeply unhappy woman. The Nurse "tempts" the Wife, offering her "all the riches of the world" and a "dream lover" in exchange for her shadow. This "bargain" is the engine of the plot. But this is an "anti-verismo" opera. A composer like Puccini would have made this a gritty, "kitchen-sink" drama about poverty and lust. For Strauss and Hofmannsthal, the "poverty" and "adultery" are not "real"; they are symbolic tests. The human world is a kind of "moral furnace" that the spirits must pass through to achieve enlightenment. The opera is not about what happens; it is about the "psychological transformation" of the four main characters.

A "Maximalist" Orchestra: Strauss's Symphonic Summit

This is, without question, Richard Strauss’s most complex, most "symphonic," and largest orchestral score. It is the very definition of "maximalism." He unleashes an orchestra of "gargantuan" proportions (even larger than that for Elektra or Salome), including eight horns, six trumpets, a massive percussion section, and, most famously, a "glass harmonica" to represent the "voice" of the spirit world. The score is a single, continuous, 4-hour "symphonic poem," built on a web of leitmotifs so dense and complex it makes Richard Wagner’s Ring cycle seem straightforward. This is a "symphony for voices." The orchestra is the drama, painting every "psychological" shift in the characters' minds. This "thickness" is also the opera's greatest challenge. Strauss’s score is so "busy" and so "contrapuntal" (with so many different melodies happening at once) that it famously threatens to "drown" the singers, requiring a conductor of absolute genius (like Karl Böhm, who was a famous champion of the work) to find the "transparency" within its massive "wall of sound."

The Two Worlds: Spirit vs. Human

Strauss creates two completely distinct sound worlds. The "Spirit World" (the Empress, the Emperor, the Nurse) is "cold" and "magic." The Empress's music is "supernatural," written for a "dramatic-coloratura" soprano. It is "instrumental" in its difficulty, full of impossibly high, glittering, "flute-like" passages. The Emperor's music is a heroic, "distant" horn-call, the sound of a Heldentenor who is more of a "myth" than a "man." The Nurse's music is the most "modern" and "atonal" in the opera—dark, slithering, chromatic, and "un-melodic." By contrast, the "Human World" (Barak and his Wife) is "warm." It is diatonic, melodic, and "earthy." The music for Barak, the Dyer, is the opera's soul. It is simple, noble, "folk-like," and built on "classic" harmonies that are almost Brahms-ian. His great Act I aria, "Mir anvertraut" (Entrusted to me), is the "human" heart of the opera, a hymn to love and family.

The "Impossible" Voices: A Cast of Five Heroes

Die Frau ohne Schatten is famous for being "a killer" to sing. It requires five "heroic," Wagnerian-sized voices, all on stage at the same time. The "three sopranos" (Empress, Wife, Nurse-mezzo) are all "summit" roles. The Empress, as noted, must have the "power" of Isolde and the "height" of the Queen of the Night. The Dyer's Wife is a "Germanic Turandot," a dramatic soprano who must sing, with "brutal" force, over a "raging" orchestra for three acts. The Nurse is one of the most difficult "mezzo-on-steroids" roles in the repertoire. And the two men are just as "heroic": the Emperor is a "killer" tenor role, and Barak is a "noble" bass-baritone who must be the "rock" of humanity at the opera's center. Casting this opera is, famously, a "nightmare" for any opera house in the world.

The Climax: "Ich will nicht!" (I will not!)

The opera's entire, complex, three-hour drama builds to a single, profound moment. In Act III, the "trial" is at its peak. The Empress is in a "temple." She has failed to "buy" the shadow, and her husband is, at that moment, being turned to stone. A "Voice from Above" tells her she has one last chance to save him: "Drink from the Fountain of Life, and the shadow will be yours!" But as she raises the cup, she hears the tormented, human voices of Barak and his Wife, who are also being "punished" for the "bargain." In this moment, the Empress has her great "crisis of conscience." She sees Barak's "humanity" ("His eyes are full of love..."). She realizes that she cannot build her happiness on the "ruins" of another. In a massive, soaring, and "sacrificial" cry, she refuses the water, shouting: "Ich will nicht!" ("I will not!"). This "no" is the "yes" of the opera. By refusing to steal the shadow, by choosing compassion over her own selfish desire, she "earns" her humanity. In this single act of "human" empathy, the curse is broken.

The "Sentimental" Finale: The Unborn Children

The finale of Die Frau has always been "controversial," much like the "miracle" in Suor Angelica. Critics have called it "Kitsch," "sentimental," and "bombastic." Strauss and Hofmannsthal (who had a "long-running" argument over this) created a finale of such overwhelming, C-major, ecstatic joy that it feels "too easy." The Emperor is saved. The Dyer's Wife regains her shadow. And, most famously, both couples are now "fertile." The opera ends with a massive, triumphant quartet for the four "humanized" leads, who are joined by a "celestial" chorus of their "Unborn Children" (Stimmen der Ungebornen), singing from on high. This is Strauss the "sentämntalist" and the "father" (he was a devoted family man) winning out over Hofmannsthal the "ambiguous" poet. It is not a "cynical" modern ending. It is a full-throated, 19th-century "Romantic" celebration of life, family, and the "redemption" of humanity through love and procreation. It is, as they intended, The Magic Flute on a colossal, 20th-century, symphonic scale.

The Story of the Opera

Act I: The "Curse" and the "Bargain"

In the "Spirit World," the Empress's Nurse is visited by a messenger from Keikobad, the King of Spirits. The Empress—Keikobad's daughter and a "half-spirit"—has been married to a mortal, the Emperor, for a year. She casts no "shadow" (a symbol of sterility/inhumanity). The messenger delivers the "curse": if the Empress does not gain a shadow in three days, the Emperor will be turned to stone. The Empress, who loves her husband, is terrified. The Nurse, who despises all humans, offers a "solution": they will descend to the "mortal" world and "buy" a shadow from a human woman.

They descend (in a famous orchestral interlude) to the "human world," to the small, dark hut of Barak the Dyer. Barak is a good, simple, and patient man, but his young Wife is bitter, frustrated, and angry that she is "tied" to a poor man and has no children. The Nurse and Empress arrive, magically disguised as "servants." The Nurse, in a "temptation" scene, offers the Wife a life of "unimaginable luxury," complete with a "dream lover," if she will only "sell" her shadow (and, with it, her fertility) to the Empress. The Wife, intrigued, agrees to a "three-day" trial, and, in a moment of spite, denies her husband, Barak, their marriage bed. Barak, returning from a long day's work, is left in confusion as the act ends.

Act II: The "Temptations" and the "Failure"

This act is a series of "tests" and "temptations." The Nurse, using her magic, conjures a "vision" of a handsome young lover for the Dyer's Wife, pushing her further toward "adultery." The Wife becomes increasingly cruel to the kind, patient Barak. In a central scene, Barak hosts a supper for a group of beggar-children. This act of "human kindness" and "paternal" love deeply moves the Empress, who is watching. She begins to feel "guilt" for the first time. She realizes that Barak's "humanity" is something she, a spirit, cannot understand. The "bargain" reaches its climax. The Wife, in a final, furious rage, "confesses" her (magical) infidelity to Barak and declares that she has "sold" her shadow. At that moment, the "shadow" magically appears on the floor. Barak, in a blind rage, raises a sword to kill his Wife. As he is about to strike, the Empress cries out. The "trial" is a disaster. The earth opens, and the two couples are swallowed into different "test" chambers.

Act III: The "Trial" and the "Redemption"

The two couples are separated in a "purgatorial" realm. In one chamber, Barak and his Wife are lost, separated, but they can hear each other. Their anger has vanished, replaced by a deep "longing" for each other ("Mir anvertraut"). They have found their love through loss. In another chamber, the Empress is in a "temple." She is terrified, as she can hear the "petrifying" Emperor. A "Fountain of Life" appears. A "Voice from Above" tells her: "Drink from the fountain, and the shadow of the Wife will be yours!" As she raises the "cup" (the golden water), she hears the real, human, suffering voices of Barak and his Wife, lost in the darkness. She has her great "crisis of conscience." She cannot "steal" her happiness. In a massive, sacrificial cry, she refuses the water: "Ich will nicht!" ("I will not!").

This act of "human compassion" is the "key." Because she refused to be inhuman, she is "granted" humanity. A shadow falls on her. She is "redeemed." The "curse" is broken. The Emperor, in a new, glorious, human form, appears. He is saved. The scene changes to a "paradise." Barak and his Wife are reunited, and her shadow has been restored. The opera ends in a glorious, triumphant quartet for all four, joined by the "celestial" voices of their "Unborn Children," celebrating the "holy" triumph of humanity, fertility, and love.