Richard Strauss: a name that resonates in concert halls as well as in movie theaters. Master of symphonic poems such as “Thus spoke Zarathustra” and lyrical works such as “Salome“, Strauss shaped the musical landscape at the turn of the twentieth century. His production ranges from chamber music to symphony orchestra, from piano to Lied, and defies any attempt at categorization.
But behind the notes lies a man of many facets, a composer who was not content to live by music alone. Think of a child prodigy who hated violins, a German tourist who ended up in court for a song, a musical genius with an unbridled passion for a card game.
And no, despite his famous surname, Richard has nothing to do with the Viennese waltz dynasty. Our Strauss preferred Alpine peaks to ballrooms, sledding to skiing, and even revolutionized the concept of copyright.
Get ready to discover six curiosities that will illuminate the lesser-known corners of the life of this musical giant. From a space odyssey to a card game, from the Italian Grand Tour to a legal battle, the story of Richard Strauss is a concert in six movements that will not fail to surprise you.
YouTube
1. Zarathustra's Odyssey: From the Podium to the Stars
Who doesn’t know the first notes of “Thus Spoke Zarathustra”? Even those who have never set foot in a concert hall will have heard them at least once. Thanks to Stanley Kubrick, who catapulted them into space with “2001: A Space Odyssey”. A celestial marriage between image and sound that transformed Strauss into an “orbital” composer.
Strauss's symphonic poem, inspired by Nietzsche's work, becomes the soundtrack of human evolution. From monkeys to space stations, passing through a black monolith: all to the rhythm of C-G-C. A progression that takes us from darkness to light, just like in the film. Kubrick, as a perfect audiovisual alchemist, was able to extract the cosmic essence from an originally terrestrial composition.
But the real magic happens immediately after: from the titanic “Zarathustra” we move on to the waltz “The Blue Danube” by Johann Strauss II. A contrast that makes your head spin more than any spatial rotation. Two Strausses, no relationship, a single cinematic destiny.
2. The Child Prodigy Who Hated Violins
“My mother says that in my early childhood I would react with a smile to the sound of the horn, while the sound of the violin would trigger my uncontrollable crying.“. This is how Strauss recalls his first approaches to music. An anecdote that says a lot about the future composer: already at a few months old he knew how to distinguish between “friendly” and “enemy” instruments.
At four and a half, Richard began to torment the piano keys. At six, he composed his first pieces. Among them, a Christmas Carol for voice and piano with the text annotated by his mother. The little genius already knew musical notation, but he did not yet know how to write. A budding Mozart? Perhaps, but with a predilection for brass that the Salzburger did not have.
Under the guidance of the choirmaster Frederick Wilhelm Meyer, the young Strauss moved from pieces for piano and voice to more complex compositions: concertos, sonatas, string quartets, symphonies. At 12 he signed his first work, the “Festive March for large orchestra.” A title that seems to have come from a village festival, but which already conceals the germ of Straussian grandeur.
3. Funiculi, funicula… and ended up in court
In 1886, the 22-year-old Strauss leaves for Italy. An educational trip financed by his father Franz, convinced that “the impressions you will receive will influence your future artistic work”. Never was a prediction more accurate. The result? “Aus Italien”, the symphonic fantasy op. 16. A travel diary in four movements, from the Roman countryside to the beach of Sorrento.
But it is the last movement, “Vita popolare a Napoli”, that gives Strauss a lesson he will never forget. The composer, intoxicated by Neapolitan folklore, inserts into his suite a “famous Neapolitan folk song”. Too bad that song, “Funiculi, funicula”, was not popular at all, but a very recent composition by Luigi Denza.
Result? A long and expensive lawsuit. Denza, rightly, demands his royalties. Strauss, as a good German, learns his lesson: never take the origin of a melody for granted, especially if it sounds too good to be true.
4. The Skat: Strauss's True Symphonic Poem
After music and family, Strauss's great passion is Skat. A German card game that the composer elevates to a true art form. At the green table, Strauss is a daring, brilliant and avid player. So much so that he attracts criticism from those who would have him always bent over the stave.
But Strauss has a ready answer. He explains to the conductor Karl Böhm: “People attack me because I love playing skat. Böhm, I assure you, this is the only time in my life when I don’t work. Otherwise my brain never stops.”
A confession that reveals much about Strauss's creative process. The game is not a simple pastime, but a necessary outlet. A way to give rest to that brain always in boiling, ready to give birth to new symphonies.
His love of Skat even seeps into his music. In the second act of the largely autobiographical opera “Intermezzo” (1923), Strauss inserts a scene from a game of Skat. A tribute to the game that, perhaps, saved his sanity.
Strauss also made a musical homage to this play: the second act of the opera Intermezzo (1923), largely autobiographical, opens with the scene of a Skat match.
5. Strauss in the open air: a composer in free fall
Imagine Strauss, the composer of monumental operas such as “Salome” and “Electra,” hurtling down a snowy slope on a toboggan. It sounds like a scene from a comedy, but it was real. The composer loved the great outdoors and winter fun.
We find him ice skating, accompanying his wife Pauline, a soprano and expert skater. Or taking long hikes in the high mountains, braving the elements. Even in old age, Strauss did not give up two daily walks with Pauline, in any weather.
There was one winter sport that Strauss detested, however: skiing. He considered it, as he wrote to his grandchildren, “a perfect occupation for Norwegian country postmen“. A joke that reveals much of his Central European snobbery, but also of his cutting humor.
This passion for the outdoors is reflected in his music. The “Alpine Symphony” is the most obvious example: a sound fresco that depicts a mountain climb, from the first light of dawn to sunset. Strauss transforms the orchestra into a soundscape, where each instrument becomes a natural element: the wind, the rain, the thunder.
6. Copyright: Strauss's Real Revolution
In 1903, Strauss founded the Society for the Rights in Musical Performances and Mechanical Reproduction (the forerunner of GEMA, the German equivalent of the Italian SIAE). A pompous name for a silent revolution. For the first time, composers could live from their art, not just from patronage or concerts.
It is an epochal turning point. Strauss forcefully states that the composer is a profession, not a pastime for bored aristocrats. A trade from which one can live, like a carpenter or an engineer.
Ironically, he who had unknowingly “stolen” “Funiculì, funiculà”, became the champion of copyright. His Villa in Garmisch, where he spent his last years, was nicknamed “Villa Salome”, because it was purchased with the copyright of the work of the same name.
