If you are looking for Beethoven, you can find him in two places: in the Vienna central cemetery, under bouquets of flowers, as I have seen last week, or in Prachtwerk Cafe at my Fidelio workshop under a sometimes flowery, sometimes heroic language.
When? April 10, 7 pm – 9pm.
Where exactly? Prachtwerk Cafe, conference room, Ganghoferstraße 2, Berlin-Neukölln.
Topic: O namenlose Freude – The Linguistics of Fidelio
Goal: The participants will understand the language of the libretto, the vocabulary and its subtleties, and how meaning, emotions and attitudes are expressed in the structure of sentences.
Content: Using chosen arias and excerpts of recitatives we will examine the – language of fear and and worries, and the vocabulary of the dungeons, – language of love and hope, and what is hidden in the subjunctive and the conditional sentence,
– language of heroism and freedom, and what emotions the imperative carries
– language of tyranny, and the power of the imperative.We will look at words and phrases, and their meanings, of arias, duets and trios by Leonore, Marzelline, Rocco, and Florestan.
What you can do: Bring your questions and your arias to discuss their language.
Who consults: Bernd Hendricks, German Language Consultant and author of the book Ach ich fühl’s – German for Opera Singers in Three Acts: Studying, Speaking, Singing.
Price: The workshop is free. A small donation to cover the rent of the room would be appreciated.
Review: I would like to ask the participants to rate and review the workshop in social media, and for this blog. The workshop will be documented with photos, in a video or/and with an article for blogs and other publications.
The Linguistics of Ariadne auf Naxos (last part, part V): A ride into the future tense.
Berlin-Neukölln, S-Bahn Station
We hear this aria relatively early in the second act, in what is called die Oper, after three nymphs, Dryade, Najade, and Echo had found her weeping, mourning, and lying in front of the cave on the deserted island. Zerbinetta and her group have appeared on that island, too, a result of the patron’s request to merge opera and vaudeville. They try to cheer her up but find it “hard, very hard to comfort her.” Zerbinetta asks the troupe to “try it with music.” They do but of no avail. Ariadne, oblivious of the furor around her, dreams of the Reich, das Totenreich, the realm of death.
In just a few lines of this aria, we go through three tenses:
1. present tense (es gibt, ist, hat, heissen),
2. past tense (kam – from kommen),
and dominantly
3. the future tense. Ariadne talks about the future, and what will happen when der schöne, stille Gott arrives.
The future tense is build with the auxiliary verb werden and the infinitive.
Wir werdensingen.
The verb werden must be conjugated:
ich werde wir werden
du wirst ihr werdet
Sie werden
er, sie, es wird sie werden
Vocabulary rein = pure
heißen = here: to give a name: sie heißen den Mann Hermes.
der Stab = staff in the sense of: stick
welk = withered
reinigen = to clean, participle: gereinigt = here: cleansed
nicken = to nod, here: to greet
die Feierkleider = festive clothes
die Glieder = limbs
geben = to give, here in past tense: gab
Es gibt ein Reich, wo alles rein ist:
Es hat auch einen Namen: Totenreich.
Hier ist nichts rein!
Hier kam alles zu allem!
Bald aber nahet ein Bote,
Hermes heißen sie ihn.
Mit seinem Stab
Regiert er die Seelen:
Wie leichte Vögel,
Wie welke Blätter
Treibt er sie hin.
Du schöner, stiller Gott!
Sieh! Ariadne wartet!
Ariadne talks about a realm where everything is pure and has also a name: Totenreich. Then she refers to the island: Here, nothing is pure.
The next line consists of four grammatical rules:
The past tense (kam > kommen), the nominative case alles (the thing that is active in the sentence), everything), the dative case allem (here: the form the object of the sentence takes when it is preceded with the preposition zu; note the different word endings.), and last but not least the word order. (We always place the verb on the second position.)
The next line indicates the future with the words bald (soon) and nahet (today: naht; to approach), an omen of what she will foresee.
She described the messenger Hermes, the Greek god of transitions, who rules the souls with his staff. Here, we find a poetic use of the word order by librettist Hugo von Hofmannsthal:
Wie leichte Vögel,
Wie welke Blätter
Treibt er sie hin.
The (separable) verb is hintreiben and the subject, the one who treibt is er, almost at the end of the sentence, followed by sie, the pronoun for the souls.
In the last part of the aria, I marked the future tense with bold letters for the auxiliary verb (werden), and underlined the infinitive verbs. (nicken, sein etc.) Only once, the verb werden appears as main verb (marked with *), which means to become.
Ach, von allen wilden Schmerzen
Muss das Herz gereinigt sein,
Dann wird dein Gesicht mir nicken, Wird dein Schritt vor meiner Höhle.
Dunkel wird auf meinen Augen,
Deine Hand auf meinem Herzen sein.
In den schönen Feierkleidern,
Die mir meine Mutter gab,
Diese Glieder werdenbleiben,
Stille Höhle wird* mein Grab.
Aber lautlos meine Seele
Folget ihrem neuen Herrn,
Wie ein leichtes Blatt im Winde
Folgt hinunter, folgt so gern.
Dunkel wird auf meinen Augen
Und in meinem Herzen sein,
Diese Glieder werdenbleiben,
Schön geschmückt und ganz allein.
Du wirst mich befreien,
Mir selber mich geben,
Dies lastende Leben,
Du, nimm es von mir.
An dich werd‘ ich mich ganz verlieren,
Bei dir wird Ariadne sein.
At the end, von Hofmannsthal unleashes some pronoun pyrotechnics: du, mich, mir, es, dir.
Ariadne knows (or believes to know) that Hermes will liberate her (mich befreien), and give her the gift of: herself! Du gibst mich = you give me.
To whom?
We use the dative for indirect object: mir (dative pronoun first person)
and as an amplifier, Ariadne adds selbst (myself).
Then she asks the god, “This burdensome (lastende) life, take it (es) from me.” The preposition von must be followed by a dative (mir).
The next line has even three pronouns. She (ich) will lose herself (mich) totally to him (dich). She will be with him: The preposition bei leads to a dative, thus bei dir. She does not say mit dir which would imply that she wants to accompany the god. She wants more and says bei, making herself completely available to him.
Kiri te Kanawa sings the aria, presented on Youtube:
Three sopranos talk about my recent workshop on the linguistics of Ariadne auf Naxos:
The Linguistics of Ariadne auf Naxos (part IV): No sorrow without subjunctive.
Three voices – great voices I must say (they are sopranos) – about my recent workshop on the linguistics of Ariadne auf Naxos:
With her great aria “Großmächtige Prinzessin”, Zerbinetta, this coquettish vaudeville dancer who charmed the Komponist just to mock his opera afterwards, is getting serious. Now, thrown into the opera and touched by Ariadne’s surrender to loneliness and death, she has send away her troupe that had tried to fill the deserted island with joy.
Zerbinetta reaches out to Ariadne – with a subjunctive for verstehen. She will speak (or better: sing) the subjunctive several times in this aria. The subjunctive makes it possible to experiment with thoughts (what if …), make suggestions (you could …) and polite requests (would you …) and at the beginning of this aria, to express empathy (who would not …). The subjunctive form of verstehen (understand) is verstünde.
Vocabulary of the first part:
erlaucht = (old) respected
erhaben = sublime
das Maß = (here) degree, dimension
gemein = (here) common (also: mean)
der/die Sterbliche = mortal
Großmächtige Prinzessin, wer verstünde nicht,
Dass so erlauchter und erhabener Personen Traurigkeit
Mit einem anderen Maß gemessen werden muss
Als der gemeinen Sterblichen.
The character of the sentence: A rhetorical question. Who would not understand …
The statement of the sentence: A measurement. The verb: messen.
Zerbinetta uses the passive voice (werden + participle, here: gemessen)
Something has to be measured mit einem anderen Maß (in a different degree/dimension, better: seen in a different way). The words anderen (different) and als (as) imply a comparison.
Zerbinetta compares die Traurigkeit (sadness) of people. What people?
Of erlauchte, erhabene Personen (like Ariadne) and gemeine Sterblicher.
Vocabulary of the second part:
unbegreiflich = unfathomable
die Schwachheit = frailty, weakness
eingestehen = to admit
zucken = tremor (here: wildly longing for something)
die Gruft = grave
die Vertraute = confidant
der Fels = cliff
– Jedoch
Sind wir nicht Frauen unter uns, und schlägt denn nicht
In jeder Brust ein unbegreiflich, unbegreiflich Herz?
Von unserer Schwachheit sprechen,
Sie uns selber eingestehen,
Ist es nicht schmerzlich süß?
Und zuckt uns nicht der Sinn danach?
Sie wollen mich nicht hören –
Schön und stolz und regungslos,
Als wären Sie die Statue auf Ihrer eigenen Gruft –
Sie wollen keine andere Vertraute
Als diesen Fels und diese Wellen haben?
Zerbinetta asks Ariadne four rhetorical questions:
Are we not women? (intensified with unter uns = between us, no man disturbs us right now.)
Does not beat a heart in our chest? (even more intensified with 2 unbegreiflich = incomprehensible, by the way without regard for the correct adjective ending as it was common back in the day.)
Isn’t it schmerzlich süß (painfully sweet) to speak of one’s Schwachheit, to admit sie (pronoun for die Schwachheit) uns selber (to ourself)?
She steps up her pleading with the dramatic question whether their mind does not zucken for that (= danach).
Zerbinetta laments that she does not get a reply (this time Sie is the second person pronoun for Ariadne), introduces another subjunctive, this time wären (for sein), “as if you were the statue on your own grave,” and continues with another question: “Do you want no other confidants than this rock and these waves?”
Vocabulary of the third part:
erstarren = to freeze (one’s heart, movement etc.)
durchleiden = suffer through
ausgesetzt = abandoned
ihrer mehrere = (referring to earlier mentioned islands) several of those
verfluchen = to curse
sinds = Viennese accent for sind es
das Wehen = waft
hastig = hurried, hasty
gefeit gegen = (old) immune, protected against
die Verwandlung = transformation
Prinzessin, hören Sie mich an – nicht Sie allein,
Wir alle – ach, wir alle – was Ihr Herz erstarrt,
Wer ist die Frau, die es nicht durchgelitten hätte?
Verlassen! in Verzweiflung! ausgesetzt!
Ach, solcher wüsten Inseln sind unzählige
Auch mitten unter Menschen, ich – ich selber
Ich habe ihrer mehrere bewohnt
Und habe nicht gelernt, die Männer zu verfluchen.
Treulos – sie sinds!
Ungeheuer, ohne Grenzen!
Eine kurze Nacht,
Ein hastiger Tag,
Ein Wehen der Luft,
Ein fließender Blick
Verwandelt ihr Herz!
Aber sind wir denn gefeit
Gegen die grausamen – entzückenden,
Die unbegreiflichen Verwandlungen?
Inside, the jolly Zerbinetta is lonely as well, having lived even amongst people (mitten unter Menschen) on such empty islands, too.
Another rhetorical question, with hätte durchgelitten.
Die Frau leidet durch. (present tense, indicative = real)
Die Frau hat durchgelitten = (perfect tense, indicative = real)
Die Frau hätte durchgelitten = (past, subjunctive = speculative)
She produces the vocabulary of despair which we have not expected from her so far:
Verlassen, ausgesetzt, in Verzweiflung.
She has not learned to curse men, those unfaithful (treulos) monsters (Ungeheuer) who have no limits (ohne Grenzen). A few unpleasant things (a short night, a hectic day, a waft) change their heart. She asks, “Are we immune against those cruel, enchanting, unfathomable transformations?”
Vocabulary of the fourth part:
betören = to lure, to tempt
verstohlen = covert
zuweilen = (old) sometimes
die Laune = (here) spirit, feeling
beklommen = fearful, dreadful
um und um = (here) through and through
hingegeben = surrendered
Noch glaub’ ich dem einen ganz mich gehörend, Noch mein’ ich mir selber so sicher zu sein,
Da mischt sich im Herzen leise betörend
Schon einer nie gekosteten Freiheit,
Schon einer neuen verstohlenen Liebe
Schweifendes freches Gefühle sich ein!
Noch bin ich wahr, und doch ist es gelogen,
Ich halte mich treu und bin schon schlecht,
Mit falschen Gewichte wird alles gewogen –
Und halb mich wissend und halb im Taumel
Betrüg’ ich ihn endlich und lieb’ ihn noch recht!
Hugo von Hofmannsthal uses a narrative device, creating suspense between the words noch (still, at first) and da (here: then, suddenly) and schon (already). Still, she believes she belongs to him (zu ihm gehörend, zu leads to dative ihm), still, she is so sure of herself, then, suddenly a feeling of a new, covert love trickles into her heart. The librettist gives us a “poet’s genitive”:
einer Freiheit Gefühl, einer Liebe Gefühl …
Today we would say: ein schweifendes freches Gefühl einer nie gekosteten Freiheit,
ein schweifendes freches Gefühl einer neuen verstohlenen Liebe.
And now, in a brilliant piece of poetry, von Hofmannsthal amplifies Zerbinetta’s passion by throwing us back and forth between contradictions:
Between true (wahr) and lied to (gelogen),
faithful (treu) and bad, evil (schlecht);
everything is weighed with false stone weights (mit falchen Gewichten),
half knowingly (wissend) and half in delirium (Taumel)
she cheats (betrügen) on him eventually (endlich), and still loves him well.
So war es mit Pagliazzo
Und mit Mezzetin!
Dann war es Cavicchio,
Dann Burattin,
Dann Pasquariello !
Ach, und zuweilen,
Will es mir scheinen,
Waren es zwei!
Doch niemals Launen,
Immer ein Müssen!
Immer ein neues
Beklommenes Staunen.
Dass ein Herz so gar sich selber,
Gar sich selber nicht versteht!
Zerbinetta lists her lovers; and sometimes there were two at once, but she never was with them for fun (here: Launen); there was always a Müssen (the verb must as a noun), always astonishment that a heart can not understand itself. The particle gar works as an intensifier. (We can say nicht, or we can say gar nicht = not at all.)
Als ein Gott kam jeder gegangen,
Und sein Schritt schon machte mich stumm,
Küsste er mir Stirn und Wangen,
War ich von dem Gott gefangen
Und gewandelt um und um!
Als ein Gott kam jeder gegangen,
Jeder wandelte mich um,
Küsste er mir Mund und Wangen,
Hingegeben war ich stumm!
Kam der neue Gott gegangen,
Hingegeben war ich stumm!
Everyone of them (jeder) came as a god. His steps (Schritt) made her silent (stumm). He kissed her forehead and her cheeks. She was captured by the god, and transformed (gewandelt) over and over.
Zerbinetta’s aria performed by Edita Gruberova in a 1978 production:
The Linguistics of Ariadne auf Naxos (part III): Particles tell what the characters feel.
Schöneberg
“Ariadne auf Naxos” contains two types of language: A noble language expressing suffering or joy or virtues as honesty, courage, love, faithfulness, or altruism; and a language we normally speak when we engage in little jokes, gossip, aggressive or soothing statements etc.
In the latter more then in the first, we often use particles, little words that never change, and consequently are never subjected to declension. They are scattered throughout our language in such a large number that we are tempted to call them its glue, although a sentence can express our thoughts sufficiently without them. However, particles are words that tell us the attitudes or feelings of the speaker (or singer). They emphasise, amplify, confirm or affirm, show surprise or hesitation, and they tell the singers the underlying emotions of the sentence they are singing. Those words have often a primary meaning, but in context they function as particles: doch, gerade, noch, halt, eben, so, ja, gern, nämlich, ganz etc. There are many more.
The libretti of Hugo von Hofmannsthal are full of them, especially when they describe scenes in which the characters are uncertain or passioned, or about to act with courage or want to hide intentions. We find many of them in “Der Rosenkavalier”, and some of course in “Ariadne auf Naxos”, especially in the Vorspiel. Here are examples:
The Haushofmeister informs the Musiklehrer that the opera has to be curtailed to the needs of the patron and his guests who want to be entertained by a vaudeville show as well. The Musiklehrer expresses his indignation:
Die Opera seria Ariadne wurdeeigensfür diese festliche Veranstaltung komponiert.
He can say that without the word eigens, but he wants to make a point: This opera exists only because of these festivities and of nothing else.
eigens = specifically, ad hoc
Although distressed by the ill treatment he and his opera has to suffer, the Komponist continues to compose. He has a musical idea, wants to write it down and asks the Perückenmacher for a piece of paper (ein Stückerl Schreibpapier, Stückerl is Viennese for a little piece.):
Hat der Herr vielleicht ein Stückerl Schreibpapier?
Hätt’ mir gern was aufnotiert!
Ich vergess’ nämlich gar so leicht.
We can sense his fear of getting rejected again behind this polite request. He addresses the Perückenmacher in the very polite third person der Herr, and asks if the gentleman has vielleicht (maybe) a piece of paper. Although to say that in this context it is not necessary, he then indicates the reason (was aufnotieren), only to make it sound cute and humble, almost submissive, with the word gern.
He gives also an apology: He forgets easily. With nämlich gar he portaits himself as an amiable absent-minded man. Who would deny him a little piece of paper?
When the Komponist later indicates to the Musiklehrer that he would like to withdraw the opera altogether, the Musiklehrer advises to stay on, to compromise and to make the changes as requested. This is the first time the Komponist is presenting his work, and he should not mess up this opportunity with a scandal. The Musiklehrer weighs in his life experience. He is thirty years older than the Komponist (Jahr’ln = Viennese for Jährchen, deminuitive for years, “little years”) and knows how “to behave in this world”. (sich schicken = old for to behave)
Mein Freund, ich bin halt dreissig Jahrl’n älter als wie du und hab’haltgelernt, mich in die Welt zu schicken.
He adds halt, a word we hear often in conversations in German culture. With halt people say, “There is nothing that I can do”, es ist halt so.
Der Wecker ist halt kaputt. Deshalb komme ich zu spät.
My alarm is broken, there is nothing we can do about it. That’s why I am late.
After the Haushofmeister conveys his master’s complaint about the opera’s stage design of an deserted island, the Tanzmeister adds that there is “nothing more tasteless” than that. When the Komponist replies the island is a symbol for loneliness the Tanzmeister quips:
Eben darum braucht sie Gesellschaft.
He could say, “Darum braucht sie Gesellschaft” (darum = that’s why. That’s why she needs company.) but he includes eben. In this context, it means “exactly.” Exactly that’s why she needs company.
Ach ich fühl's 