Author Rex Harrower recounts his formitive years

Rex Harrower was the first American to stage Opera extensively in Europe. He was also something of a pioneer in the development of regional performances in the USA.

Now, nearing ninety, he has recounted his early years and what propelled him into maturity. He describes in detail the four performances decisive for his future work. They All took place within three years prior to World War 2 and directly or indirectly, were influenced by the upstart German dictator, who then personified the disastrous mix of radical and ultra-conservative notions, unfortunately still with us in other ways..

The first, “The Eternal Road” (New York 1936) was the last great spectacle by Max Reinhardt, ignited by the ongoing persecution of Jews in Germany. The next year, a determined R.H found his way to Bayreuth (Germany) for a new production of Wagner’s “Niebelungen Ring”. R.H. clearly defines why the four successive performances remain the best and, by far most complete staging of this prodigious work for which the theater was built - a hard fact that t is still denied within Germany, because it happened during the Nazi Era.

R.H. stayed on in Weimar to learn the language under the guidance of the Great Aunt, the writer Gabriela Reuter, to whom his book is dedicated. In Weimar ,Germany’s center of enlightenment, he also found stronger reasons than Wagner to learn German. A break to visit his Mother in Monte Carlo, revealed a unique exception to the Ballet repertoire, “Nobelissima Visione” – a new Ballet by Leonide Massine with music by Paul Hindemith ( a German forced emigrant) and settings by Pavel Tcheliticheff . It was a profound study of St. Francis of Assisi, where arms, hands and eyes were the principal elements of expression.

An exuberant year in Munich followed, offset by the constant warmongering of the German dictator. There , the, prodigiously subsidized Opera under the conductor, Clemens Krauss, was principally dedicated to superb performance of the Operas of Richard Strauss – Germany’s last great, and still living composer.

Nonetheless, Harrower’s inherent wish was to encounter a living genius, was unexpectedly fulfilled during several weeks passed in almost daily company of the composer Strauss and his eccentric wife, Paulina. Recall of these days was the initial reason for Harrower’s writing and should not be quoted out of context. What follows is, nonetheless an account of the last meeting with the composer after a performance of his Opus Magnus “Die Frau ohne Schatten”, which became the fourth major performances referred to here.

August 22 finally arrived. That evening, I made my way to a seat on the right side of the first balcony, which I knew would be only two rows behind Dr. and Mrs. Richard Strauss. They arrived just before the performance and did not immediately notice me, but everyone could not help but notice Pauline. She was dressed in a full-skirted, bright red taffeta dress with a train, and she wore an infinite number of gold bangles covering most of her arms. With her every movement, the dress would hiss and the bangles would clink and attract attention. From the moment she was seated, Pauline began to scrutinize the audience with the aid of her opera glasses. I tried not to notice the disturbance she was causing, but I believe that it never stopped during the entire long evening.

Krauss arrived in the pit, and with no more than a few opening bars of music the performance was underway. Rünger sang the Dyer’s wife, Ursuleac the Empress, and a young Elisabeth Höngen the nurse. Hoffmansthal’s adaptation of a Persian fairy tale was originally intended to be an opera along the lines of Mozart’s The Magic Flute. Strauss was also a conductor of note and a Mozart specialist, but his version of The Magic Flute evolved into the antithesis of Mozart’s opera. It is unrelentingly grand, except for moments of great lyrical beauty. The work defies description – and the ability of most opera companies to perform it as it was conceived.

As in The Magic Flute, the protagonists are subjected to trials, and the forces of evil are pitted against those of good, but much more forcefully, so that the positive, peaceful and fruitful outcome is all the more illuminating in the beauty of its natural simplicity. Die Frau ohne Schatten was conceived and actually written during the First World War, when only a great poet and a great composer were able to react to “epidemic insanity” with such an expression of confidence in life itself.

Certainly, Krauss had mastered the score, and all the singers were right for their roles, but the presence of the composer – at a moment in history that again threatened to be one of no return – stimulated all of them to go beyond their normal capacities. For me, this was the most overwhelming performance of my life, rendered earthly and even more improbable by the sound of Pauline’s bangles and hissing taffeta dress, and by the sight of the composer’s large head from which all this had emerged, nodding occasionally and finally slipping into slumber.

I tried to say goodbye to Pauline, but she was too busy talking to a lady to give me more than a nod. When I told Strauss that I was on the point of leaving but had stayed for this unforgettable event, he looked at me rather sadly and said that he was very sorry that the hope he had been able to hold out to me could apparently not be fulfilled. He then reminded me that I was still very young, and would be part of a new, and perhaps more rational, world. Thus, the closest encounter with genius in my life came to an end.

The very next day was heralded by news of the most blatant example of political hypocrisy ever. While the Allies dallied over a tentative agreement with Russia to protect Poland from German aggression, the man in the gray suit, Herr von Ribbentrop, quietly signed an accord with Molotov! Thus, after years of anti-communism as the prime reason given for their holding power, the Nazis blithely joined with Russia against their weaker neighbor.

After living through weeks of suspense, this surprise manipulation came as a bitter relief. At least we knew where the bluff would end, though not yet how brutally, nor what the consequences would be. I was thoroughly disgusted with this culture of lies and deceit – finally revealed for what it was: the shadow side of the old world that so fascinated me. My innate enthusiasm for the latter notwithstanding, I understood – for the first time – the skepticism of an older generation of Americans that included my father, and why they preferred isolation from the Continent. But I had been thoroughly seduced by what remained of its glories.

A postscript recounts how R.H unexpectedly learnt essentials for his later work as an Opera Director in the US – where opera was still an “un-American” activity.

Several pages are devoted to the “First Lady of American Dance”,. Ruth St Denis, and what she referred to as her “slightly incestuous Motherhood “ of RH.

Written upon his death but not published, “ An Unedited Lincoln Kirstein” recounts interesting details about America’s outstanding benefactor of the Arts, - all at variance with official biography.

The book concludes with an eye toward the future of Opera and includes designs for an architectural alternative to the “opera” house, which is still the shape of most theaters.

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