Date of composition: 1895-1896
Premiere: 27 November 1896 in Frankfurt am Main under the
direction of the composer
Duration: 34 minutes
Performances by the Berliner Philharmoniker:
First performed on 30 November 1896, conductor: Arthur Nikisch
“New tone poem reconsidered: seeing–worshipping / experiencing–doubting”: with these words, Richard Strauss summarised his first ideas for a planned fifth tone poem, inspired by Friedrich Nietzsche’s Also sprach Zarathustra, in 1894. Nietzsche’s hymn-like verse epic of 1883–85 revolves around a fictional thinker, an “Übermensch” or “super-man”, who takes his name from the Persian religious founder Zarathustra and, for Nietzsche, embodies a life of Dionysian ecstasy. While on holiday in Italy in the summer of 1895, Strauss sketched his first ideas for the composition and wrote with mischievous delight to the poet Karl Henckell: “I am now hammering together a symphonic poem Also sprach Zarathustra; if it succeeds, I know many who will be annoyed – that they won’t understand it in the least!” A year later, the work was completed. As Strauss had foreseen, his tone poem created a sensation in an era of fierce disputes between the “conservatives” and the so-called “New German School” with its experiments in programme music. And so the premiere in Frankfurt in 1896 sparked heated debate – the work receiving both enthusiastic praise and caustic criticism.
The tone poem consists of an introduction and eight sections, whose titles correspond – though in altered order – to Nietzsche’s chapter headings. Beyond this, the links to the poetic source remain rather vague and enigmatic. Strauss rightly emphasised that his composition was “freely inspired by Nietzsche”. It opens with the most famous sunrise in the history of music, accompanying Zarathustra on his descent to humankind – from the mountain where the prophet had lived in solitude. Following a powerful crescendo, the overwhelming impression of sunrise finds its musical equivalent in a hymn-like “nature motif” for the winds and brass in C major, which suddenly darkens into minor. Already here, Strauss makes striking use of his enormous orchestral forces, including six horns, four trumpets and two tubas as well as an organ, two harps, and a large array of percussion instruments.
In “Of the Backworldsmen”, Zarathustra encounters a devout people whose serene state of soul is evoked in a song-like string theme marked “with devotion”, while horns and organ – not without irony – intone the Christian creed Credo in unum Deum. This apparent idyll is soon disturbed: in the third section, a yearning motif emerges, competing with the strings’ “Backworldsmen” theme and then exploding in the following part, “Of Joys and Passions” – now more unrestrained and in turbulent C minor. Dark trombone interjections herald an atmospheric shift, leading into a “Song of the Grave”, where the solo violin and woodwinds play plaintive cantilenas. As a reminiscence of happier times, motifs from previous sections are recalled. In the episode “Of Science”, Strauss introduces a sombre, broad fugue theme that proceeds somewhat ponderously: an ironic allusion to the pedantry of the academic world.
In the section “The Convalescent”, the development of the first part reaches a temporary conclusion with Zarathustra’s collapse, before the musical energies are renewed and soon unfold in a folk-like waltz. The exuberant dance flows into the “Song of the Night Wanderer”, heralded by twelve strokes of midnight. Yet the music finds no lasting repose. To the very end, the tonalities of B major and C major – which dominate the entire work – stand in unyielding opposition: a thorn of doubt in a world of clarity.