It's high time for another installment of TRIVIA & HUMOR. In this, Unraveling Musical Myth's 12th journey behind the scenes of Western Classical music's lives of centuries past, we once more indulge into the sometimes horrifying, almost always hilarious harems of hell on earth in which our beloved icons of yore so greatly enjoyed (or, in some instances, recoiled from).
Without further ado, I present to the reader TRIVIA & HUMOR XII:
German composer Richard Wagner may not have been triskaidekaphobic (as far as we know). However, according to a statistician living in 1895, the vast multitude of incidences in which the Number 13 would make an appearance in the controversial composer's life would have been sufficient enough grounds to make Schoenberg faint dead away like a groupie at a Liszt concert.
Here are more than a few instances in which the number occurs throughout Wagner’s work/life, as recounted by author Willey Francis Gates from the calculations of a “statistically inclined writer” living in the 19th century:
Of course we see what we want to see, and much of this is a stretch – like picking at straws, but a clever anecdote nonetheless:
- Born 1813: The sum of the figures in 1813 equals 13. (1+8=9; 1+3=4: 9+4=13) Died on the 13th day of February, 1883
- The full date of his death was the 13th day of the 2nd month in ’83. It makes 13 twice: first the day of death: 13; and again in the 2nd month of the year (February: 2+ 8+3 =13)
- There are 13 letters in the name Richard Wagner
- Wagner composed 13 operas (music dramas)
- His decision to pursue a dramatic career was formed on the 13th day of the month; he was influenced in changing his format after hearing Carl Maria von Weber’s "Der Freischütz,” which, in it’s entirety (famous overture included) was completed on the 13th May 1820; it’s first appearance at Dresden, home to Wagner, was in 1822 (1+8+2+2=13).
- Weber died in Wagner’s 13th year
- Wagner’s first appearance as a “musical personage” occurred in 1831 (1+8+3+1=13) during his tenure as a music student at Leipzig.
- He would become director of the stage at Riga, which opened its doors on the 13th day of September, 1837; it was here that Wagner began to compose his early opera “Rienzi,” completed in Paris some 3 years later in 1840 (1+8+4+0=13)
- On April 13, 1844, Richard completed Tannhauser, which was performed in Paris on March 13 1861
- By 13th of august in the year 1876, Wagner began the first presentation of the “Bayreuth Dramas,” the Nibelungen Ring.;” the last day at “Bayreuth” was on 13th of September 1882
- Wagner would be forced into exile from Saxony for a total of 13 years
- Richard would visit his father in law, Franz Liszt for the last time in Venice on January 13th, 1883, before dying on the 13th of February, in the 13th year of the new German Confederation.
Whew!
In keeping on the subject of all things Wagner, allow me to re-introduce the reader to some rather famous scandals that rocked the life of the erudite composer:
FISTFIGHT AT WAGNER PREMIERE:
It seemed Wagner was destined for controversy almost from the beginning. The premiere of his second opera Das Liebesverbot was already off to a poor start for then relatively unknown composer, with a lead singer resorting to reciting a load of gibberish after failing to remember his lines.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, the second performance had to be cancelled altogether following a pre-show backstage row – complete with fists and curses – courtesy of the works’ lead tenor and the husband of the opera's Prima Donna. Wagner fully intended to see the performance through after having quelled the violent scuffle, yet, much to his embarrassment, when the curtain finally arose, both composer and orchestra were greeted to an audience only 3 patrons strong. Humiliated, Wagner never again attempted to stage this opera during his lifetime.
FUN FACT: Fist fights were no stranger to Richard Wagner; in fact, in the composer’s personal autobiography Mein Leben (written at the request of Wagner patron King Ludwig II of Bavaria in 1865), Wagner describes a real-life experience of mistaken identity and a near-riot that made such a frightening impression on him, he would later incorporate the experience into the second act of his 1862 music drama Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg in which the diarist relates:
"Out of this situation evolved an uproar, which through the shouting and clamour and an inexplicable growth in the number of participants in the struggle soon assumed a truly demoniacal character. It looked to me as if the whole town would break out into a riot...Then suddenly I heard a heavy thump, and as if by magic the whole crowd dispersed in every direction...One of the regular patrons had felled one of the noisiest rioters.... And it was the effect of this which had scattered everybody so suddenly."
HIERONYMUS BOSCH: "BUTT MUSIC"
Back in 2015, the worldwide press erroneously labeled Oklahoma Christian University student Amelia Hamrick as having “discovered" a formerly “unnoticed" fraction of a 'musical' score on the backside of a man, positioned fanny-up (that's derrière, to you naughty folks in the U.K) in Dutch/Netherlandish Painter Hieronymus Bosch’s infamous triptych The Garden of Earthly Delights.
Certainly I, and many fans of this peculiar work have pondered the mystery of the “formerly unnoticed score” – hint: we noticed – long ago: in fact, speculation as to the meaning of the music has been a hot topic amongst artistic circles since the renewed interest in the Dutch artists' work peaked during the height of the Surrealist Movement in the 20th Century. Likely, it sparked interest in it's heyday as well.
The famous triptych, so named after it’s middle panel, is said to be a depiction (from left panel to right) of Paradise, Purgatory (debated), and finally, Hell. It is in the right panel (the portion that covers the subject matter of this post both cropped and highlighted for the viewer) that one finds the oddest of material: some say the proliferation of nude men and women engaging in destructive behavior (our “Butt” man is seen being crushed by a giant lute and harp, his derrière and legs protruding underneath the instruments) as being symbolic of Bosch’s distaste for worldly lust, and their inevitable path to hell through displaying such lewd and loose behavior.
Whilst the Oklahoma grad may not have been the first to “notice” the music on the “butt” of the figure, she was perhaps the most recent musician to draw a large public interest in what scholars of the era refer to as "faux notation." Reveling in her newfound fame, Hamrick told her followers on social media site Tumblr:
“I decided to transcribe it into modern notation, assuming the second line of the staff is C, as is common for chants of this era,”
Hamrick titled the score “The 500-Year-Old Butt Song from Hell.”
Whilst we can thank Hamrick for attracting the attention of newer generations to both Bosch and the idea of Gregorian chant, this subject has been thoroughly debated for some time. That the notation is Gregorian or that it is 'music' at all has been contested publicly for some time, and Hamrick's claims have caused controversy with previous 'transcribers.'
Early music aficionado and musician Ian Pittaway offered an excellent rebuttal
(no pun intended) on his
personal blog
in May 2021. Extensively researched, and with exquisite attention to detail,
Pittaway reminded his readers of a 2003 album release by Swedish musicians Vox
Vulgaris (titled The Shape of Medieval Music to Come) who claim to have been the first to "transcribe" the 'music', which,
Pittaway is apt to point out, has also proven false, with transcriptions
appearing in 1961 (by J. Lenneberg in ‘Bosch’s Garden of Earthly Delights: Some Musicological Considerations’,
Gazette des Beaux-Arts), in 1978 (in an album release by Atrium Musicae titled
Codex Gluteo), and in 1981 (by Laurinda S. Dixon, Professor in the
Department of Art and Music Histories, Syracuse University in
Alchemical Imagery in Bosch’s Garden of Delights, (UMI)) respectively.
That the music is not music at all, but rather "faux notation" is a theory bolstered by the absence of a clef on the buttocks, without which no definite pitch can be ascertained. Pittaway offers a convincing alternative to the "Gregorian chant" claim, identifying the notation as a mere imitation of Strichnotation, described by the author as "...an imprecise form of written music that gives very little or no indication of rhythm, with a staff which gives an indication of the pitch of notes relative to one another, but no indication of the actual pitch, which makes any interpretation guesswork."
Pittaway's response may be read in full by clicking
here.
Below: Hamrick performs her own take on the so-called "Butt Music" of Bosch: (also check
out the transcriptions of
other modern day musicians,
who have
based their material on Hamrick's transcription
on YouTube.
ERIK SATIE: VIGILANT HOARDER BY DAY, MANIACALLY
EN GARDE! BY NIGHT
A sketch of Erik Satie by Frueh |
This behavior – although understandable from a psychological/physiological aspect still left fans of the composer stunned: how could such a dynamic, creative mind reduce himself thus?