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O P E R A N O T E S | L Y R I C O P E R A O F C H I C A G O
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February 8 - March 13, 2016
A climactic scene from director Robert Wiene’s famous silent film (1926) based on
Der Rosenkavalier
. Pictured left to right are Paul Hartmann as the
Field Marshall (a character not included in the opera), Huguette Duflos as the Marschallin, Elly Felicie Berger as Sophie, and Jaque Catelain as Octavian.
One of few surviving photos of
Hofmannsthal (left) and Strauss.
thus motivating the Italian intriguers’ change
of allegiance to Octavian). But contrary to the
usual assumption, the famous waltz conclud-
ing Act Two wasn’t Strauss’s idea at all: “Try
and think of an old-fashioned Viennese waltz,”
Hofmannsthal wrote to the composer in April
1909, “sweet and yet saucy.”
For years audiences have assumed that it
was a standard Viennese custom to present a
silver rose to a future bride, so it’s surprising
to learn that this was another Hofmannsthal
invention. The opera’s title,
Der Rosenkavalier
(“The Cavalier of the Rose”), chosen quite
late, was actually a suggestion from Pauline
de Ahna, Strauss’s wife and formerly a dis-
tinguished soprano. Until six months before
the premiere, Strauss and Hofmannsthal had
planned to title their opera
Ochs auf Lerchenau
(lit. “ox in the lark-meadow”), highlighting the
Baron and his comedic moniker.
Strauss once described the self-satisfied
Baron as “a rustic Don Juan beau of about
thirty-five, always a nobleman (even if a rather
boorish one) … a bounder
inwardly
; but on
the surface sufficiently presentable…” It’s clear
from the start that Ochs lacks money, and that
it’s his prospective father-in-law’s wealth that
accounts for his proposing marriage to Sophie.
We see, too, that he doesn’t mind pursuing the
Marschallin’s maid Mariandel (the disguised
Octavian) while boasting of his wedding plans.
Ochs’s comedy originates not only in his
attempted womanizing, but especially in his
absolute obsession with his own title, some-
thing not uncommon in old Vienna – and
actually still prevalent there! Ochs is so full
of himself that he considers his proposal an
incredible blessing for Sophie (her
nouveau
riche
father, Faninal, is, of course, ecstatic
at the prospect of his daughter becoming a
Baroness). The Baron is easily the opera’s
most amusing character, but Strauss and Hof-
mannsthal did this rowdy figure honor with
an unexpected moment of dignified discretion:
in Act Three, when he finally understands the
Marschallin’s actual relationship to Octavian,
he proves himself a man of the world and
agrees to remain silent about it.
With the opera completed and the Dres-
den premiere fast approaching, Strauss and
Hofmannsthal were increasingly preoccu-
pied with finding the ideal Ochs. For all the
major roles, they knew the acting abilities of
“ordinary operatic singers” just wouldn’t do,
and Ochs required an especially gifted actor.
When bass-baritone Karl Perron was assigned
the part, Hofmannsthal’s disappointment was
particularly acute; not because he didn’t admire
Perron as an artist (he’d previously created two
powerfully dramatic roles for Strauss, Jocha-
naan in
Salome
and Orest in
Elektra
), but he
believed Perron lacked the necessary comedic