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[Home]
[Up]
[Contents]
[Preface]
[Bibliographical Note]
[A Note on the Text]
[WHAT IS ART?]
I
II
III
IV
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VI
VII
VIII
IX
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XI
XII
XIII
XIV
XV
XVI
XVII
XVIII
XIX
XX
[CONCLUSION]
[Appendix I]
[Appendix II]
[Notes]
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WHAT IS ART?
¿¹¼úÀº ¹«¾ùÀΰ¡?
TRANSLATED BY RICHARD PEVEAR AND LARISSA VOLOKHONSKY
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¿¹¼úÀº ¹«¾ùÀΰ¡?
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The extent to which people of our circle and time have lost the ability to perceive genuine art, and have become used to taking as art objects that have nothing in common with it, can best be seen in the works of Richard Wagner, more and more appreciated and recognized of late, not only by the Germans but also by the French and the English, as the highest art, opening new horizons. |
¿ì¸® ¹üÁÖ ¹× ½Ã´ëÀÇ »ç¶÷µéÀÌ ÁøÁ¤ÇÑ ¿¹¼úÀ» ÀνÄÇÏ´Â ´É·ÂÀ»
»ó½ÇÇÏ°Ô µÇ¾úÀ¸¸ç ¿¹¼ú°ú´Â ¾Æ¹«·± ¿¬°üÀÌ ¾ø´Â ´ë»óµéÀ» ¿¹¼ú·Î ¿©±è¿¡ Àͼ÷ÇØÁ® ¹ö¸° Á¤µµ´Â, ¸®Â÷µå ¹Ù±×³ÊÀÇ ÀÛǰµé¿¡¼ ±Ø¸íÈ÷ º¸¿©Áö¸ç,
±×´Â ÃÖ±Ù¿¡ ´õ¿í ´õ Æò°¡µÇ°í ÀÎÁ¤µÇ°í ÀÖÀ¸¸ç, ÀÌ´Â µ¶ÀÏÀε鿡 ÀÇÇØ¼ »Ó¸¸ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó ÇÁ¶û½ºÀÎµé ¹× ¿µ±¹ÀÎ µé¿¡ ÀÇÇØ¼µµ, »õ·Î¿î ÁöÆò¼±À»
¿©´Â ÃÖ°íÀÇ ¿¹¼ú·Î ¿©°ÜÁö°í ÀÖ´Ù. |
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The peculiarity of Wagner¡¯s music, as is known, consists in this, that music must serve poetry, expressing all the nuances of the poetic work. |
¾Ë·ÁÁø ¹Ù¿Í °°ÀÌ ¹Ù±×³Ê À½¾ÇÀÇ Æ¯Â¡Àº ¿©±â¿¡ ÀÖ´Ù, Áï, À½¾ÇÀº
¹Ýµå½Ã ½ÃÀÇ ½ÃÁßÀ» µé¾î¾ß ÇÏ¸ç ½Ã ÀÛǰÀÇ ¸ðµç ´µ¾Ó½ºµéÀ» Ç¥ÇöÇØ¾ß ÇÑ´Ù´Â °ÍÀÌ´Ù. |
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The combination of drama and music, invented in fifteenth-century Italy to restore what was imagined to be Greek musical drama, is an artificial form which was and is successful only among the upper classes, and then only when gifted musicians like Mozart, Weber, Rossini and others, inspired by the dramatic subject, have given themselves freely to their inspiration, subordinating the text to the music, with the result that in their operas only the music to a certain text was important for the listener, and not the text itself, which, even when quite meaningless, as, for example, in the Magic Flute, still did not detract from the artistic impression of the music. |
±Ø°ú À½¾ÇÀÇ °áÇÕÀº, ±×¸®½ºÀÇ À½¾Ç±ØÀÎ °ÍÀ¸·Î ¿©°ÜÁö´ø °ÍÀ»
º¹¿øÇϱâ À§ÇØ 15 ¼¼±â ÀÌÅ»¸®¾Æ¿¡¼ â¾ÈµÈ °ÍÀ¸·Î, ¿À·ÎÁö »ó·ù °è±Þµé »çÀÌ¿¡¼ ¼º°øÇßÀ¸¸ç ¼º°øÇϰí ÀÖ´Â ÀÎÀ§Àû ÇüÅÂÀ̸ç, ±×°Íµµ ¿ÀÁ÷
¸ðÂ÷¸£Æ®, ¿þ¹ö, ·Î½Ã´Ï ¹× ±âŸÀÇ ÃµÀçÀûÀÎ À½¾Ç°¡µéÀÌ, ±Ø °ü·Ã À̾߱âµé¿¡ ÀÇÇØ ¿µ°¨À» ¹Þ¾Æ, ±×µéÀÇ ¿µ°¨¿¡ ÀÚÀ¯·ÎÀÌ µµÃëÇÏ¿©¼,
À̾߱⸦ À½¾Ç¿¡ Á¾¼Ó½Ã۰í, ±× °á°ú ±×µéÀÇ ¿ÀÆä¶óµé¿¡¼, À̾߱â ÀÚü°¡ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó, ¿ÀÁ÷ ƯÁ¤ÇÑ À̾߱⿡ ºÎÄ£ À½¾Ç¸¸ÀÌ Ã»ÃëÀڵ鿡°Ô Áß¿äÇϸç,
±×°ÍÀº, ¿¹¸¦ µé¸é, '¸¶¼ú ÇǸ®'¿¡¼ ³Ê¹«³ª ¹«ÀǹÌÇÑ °æ¿ì¿¡µµ, ¾ÆÁ÷µµ À½¾Ç¿¡ ´ëÇÑ ¿¹¼úÀû Àλ󿡼 ½ÄÁö ¾Ê¾Ò´Ù. |
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Wagner wants to correct opera by making music subserve the demands of poetry and merge with it. But each art has its own definite sphere, not coinciding with but only touching upon other arts, and therefore if the expressions, not of many, but even only of two arts, the dramatic and the musical, are joined into a single whole, the demands of one art will make it impossible to
fulfill the demands of the other, as always used to happen in ordinary opera, where dramatic art subserved, or rather yielded place to, musical art. But Wagner wants musical art to subserve dramatic art and both to be manifest with full power. But this is impossible, because every work of art, if it is a true work of art, is the expression of the artist¡¯s innermost feelings, completely exceptional, unlike anything else. Such is the work of music, and such is the work of dramatic art, if they are true art. And therefore, in order that the work of one art should coincide with the work of the other, an impossible thing must occur: that two works of art from different spheres be completely and exceptionally unlike anything that has been before, and at the same time coincide and be completely like each other. |
¹Ù±×³Ê´Â À½¾ÇÀÌ ½ÃÀÇ ¿ä±¸µé¿¡ µµ¿òÀÌ µÇµµ·Ï ¸¸µêÀ¸·Î½á ¿ÀÆä¶ó¸¦
¹Ù·ÎÀâ°í ±×°ÍÀ» º´ÇÕÇϱ⸦ ¿øÇÑ´Ù. ±×·¯³ª Á¦°¢±â ¿¹¼úÀº ±× ÀÚüÀÇ °íÀ¯ÇÑ ¿µ¿ªÀ» Áö´Ï¸ç, ´Ù¸¥ ¿¹¼úµé°ú ÀÏÄ¡ÇÏÁö ¾Ê°í ´ÜÁö °¡±îÀÌ ÀÖÀ¸¸ç,
±×·¯¹Ç·Î ¸¸ÀÏ ¸¹Áö ¾ÊÀº ¾Æ´Ï ½ÉÁö¾î µÎ °¡Áö ¿¹¼úµé, ±ØÀûÀÎ °Í°ú À½¾ÇÀûÀÎ °ÍÀÇ Ç¥ÇöµéÀÌ ÇϳªÀÇ Àüü·Î ¹¶ÃÄÁø´Ù¸é, ÀÌ ÂÊÀÇ ¿¹¼úÀÇ
¿ä±¸µéÀÌ Àú ÂÊÀÇ ¿ä±¸µéÀ» ÃæÁ·½ÃŰ±â¿¡ ºÒ°¡´ÉÇϵµ·Ï ¸¸µé °ÍÀ̸ç, ÀÌ´Â ¾ðÁ¦³ª Æò¹üÇÑ ¿ÀÆä¶ó¿¡¼ »ý±â°í ÀÖ´Â °ÍÀ¸·Î, ±Ø ¿¹¼úÀÌ À½¾Ç ¿¹¼ú¿¡
Á¾¼ÓµÇ°Å³ª ¿ÀÈ÷·Á ±×°Í¿¡ ÀÚ¸®¸¦ ¾çº¸ÇÏ°Ô µÈ´Ù. ±×·¯³ª À̰ÍÀº ºÒ°¡´ÉÇÏ´Ù, ¿Ö³ÄÇÏ¸é ¸ðµç ¿¹¼ú ÀÛǰÀº, ¸¸ÀÏ ±×°ÍÀÌ ÂüµÈ ¿¹¼ú ÀÛǰÀ̶ó¸é,
¿¹¼ú°¡ÀÇ ±í¼÷ÇÑ ³»¸éÀÇ ´À³¦µéÀÇ Ç¥ÇöÀ̸ç, ´Ù¸¥ ¹«¾ù°úµµ ´Ù¸¥ ¿ÏÀüÈ÷ ¿¹¿ÜÀûÀÎ °ÍÀ̱⠶§¹®ÀÌ´Ù. ¸¸ÀÏ ÂüµÈ ¿¹¼úÀ̶ó¸é À½¾Ç ÀÛǰÀÌ ±×·¯Çϸç
±Ø ¿¹¼ú ÀÛǰÀÌ ±×·¯ÇÏ´Ù. ±×·¯¹Ç·Î, ÇÑ ¿¹¼úÀÇ ÀÛǰÀÌ ´Ù¸¥ ¿¹¼úÀÇ ÀÛǰ°ú ÀÏÄ¡Çϱâ À§Çؼ± Áß¿äÇÑ ÀÏÀÌ ¹Ýµå½Ã ÀϾ¾ß ÇÑ´Ù: ´Ù¸¥
¿µ¿ªµé¿¡¼ ºñ·ÔµÈ µÎ ÀÛǰµéÀÌ ÀÌÀü¿¡ ÀÖ¾î¿Ô´ø ¾î¶² °Í°ú´Â ¿ÏÀüÈ÷ ±×¸®°í ¿¹¿ÜÀûÀ¸·Î ´Þ¶ó¾ß ÇÑ´Ù ±×¸®°í µ¿½Ã¿¡ ¼·Î¿¡°Ô ÀÏÄ¡ÇÏ°í ¿ÏÀüÈ÷
°°¾Æ¾ß ÇÑ´Ù´Â Á¡ÀÌ´Ù. |
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And this cannot be, just as there cannot be, not only two people, but even two leaves on a tree that are completely the same. Still less can two works from different spheres of art — the musical and the verbal — be completely the same. If they do coincide, then either one is a work of art and the other a counterfeit, or both are counterfeits. Two living leaves cannot be completely like each other, but two artificial leaves can be alike. It is the same with works of art. They can coincide fully only when neither the one nor the other is art, but only a contrived simulacrum of art. |
±×¸®°í À̰ÍÀº ÀÖÀ» ¼ö°¡ ¾øÀ¸¸ç, ÀÌ´Â ¿ÏÀüÈ÷ ¶È°°Àº µÎ »ç¶÷»Ó¸¸
¾Æ´Ï¶ó ÇÑ ³ª¹«ÀÇ µÎ ÀÙµéÀÌ Á¸ÀçÇÒ ¼ö ¾ø´Â °Í°ú °°´Ù. ¿¹¼úÀÇ »óÀÌÇÑ ¿µ¿ªµé
— À½¾Ç ¹× ¾ð¾î —
ÀÇ µÎ ÀÛǰµéÀº ´õ¿í ´õ ¿ÏÀüÈ÷ ¶È°°À» ¼ö ¾ø´Ù. ¸¸ÀÏ ±×°ÍµéÀÌ ÀÏÄ¡ÇÑ´Ù¸é, ±× Áß Çϳª´Â ¿¹¼ú ÀÛǰÀÌ¸ç ´Ù¸¥ Çϳª´Â ¸ðÁ¶Ç°À̰ųª ȤÀº µÑ
´Ù ¸ðÁ¶Ç°µéÀÌ´Ù. µÎ °³ÀÇ »ì¾Æ ÀÖ´Â ÀÙµéÀÌ ¼·Î°¡ ¿ÏÀüÈ÷ °°À» ¼ö´Â ¾øÁö¸¸ µÎ °³ÀÇ ÀΰøÀû ÀÙµéÀº °°À» ¼ö ÀÖ´Ù. ±×°ÍÀº ¿¹¼ú ÀÛǰµé¿¡¼µµ
¸¶Âù°¡Áö´Ù. ±×°ÍµéÀº À̰͵µ Àú°Íµµ ¿¹¼úÀÌ ¾Æ´Ï¸ç, ´ÜÁö °¡°øµÇ¾î ¿¹¼úÀ» Èä³» ³½ °ÍÀÏ ¶§ ¿ÏÀüÈ÷ ÀÏÄ¡ÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖ´Ù. |
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If poetry and music can more or less combine in hymns, songs and ballads (not in such a way that music follows each verse of the text, as Wagner wants, but so that the one and the other produce the same mood), that happens only because lyrical poetry and music have in part the same goal — to produce a mood; and the moods produced by lyrical poetry and music may more or less coincide. Yet in these combinations the centre of gravity is always in one of the two productions, so that only one of them produces an artistic impression, while the other goes unnoticed. Still less can there be such a combination of epic or dramatic poetry and music. |
¸¸ÀÏ ½Ã¿Í À½¾ÇÀÌ Âù¼Û°¡µé, °¡°îµé ¹× °¡¿äµé ¾È¿¡ (¹Ù±×³Ê°¡
¹Ù¶óµíÀÌ À½¾ÇÀÌ À̾߱âÀÇ °¢±â ÇàµéÀ» µû¶ó°¨ÀÌ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó, ¼·Î°¡ µ¿ÀÏÇÑ ºÐÀ§±â¸¦ ¿¬ÃâÇϱâ À§ÇØ) °áÇÕµÉ ¼ö ÀÖ´Ù¸é, ±×·¯ÇÑ °ÍÀº ´ÜÁö ¼Á¤ÀûÀÎ
½Ã¿Í À½¾ÇÀÌ ºÎºÐÀûÀ¸·Î µ¿ÀÏÇÑ ¸ñÀû
—
ºÐÀ§±â¸¦ ¿¬ÃâÇÏ´Â °Í
—
À» °¡Áö°í Àֱ⠶§¹®¿¡ ÀϾî³; ±×¸®°í ¼Á¤Àû ½Ã ¹× À½¾Ç¿¡ ÀÇÇØ ¿¬ÃâµÇ´Â ºÐÀ§±âµéÀº ¾î´À Á¤µµ ÀÏÄ¡ÇÒ ¼öµµ ÀÖ´Ù. ±×·¯³ª À̵é Á¶ÇÕµé
¾È¿¡¼ ¹«°ÔÀÇ Áß½ÉÀº ¾ðÁ¦³ª µÎ ÀÛǰµé ÁßÀÇ Çϳª¿¡ ÀÖÀ¸¸ç, ±×·¡¼ ¿ÀÁ÷ ±×µé Áß Çϳª¸¸ÀÌ ¿¹¼úÀû ÀλóÀ» ¸¸µé¾î³»¸ç ´Ù¸¥ Çϳª´Â ´«¿¡ ¶çÁö
¾Ê´Â´Ù. ¼»ç ȤÀº ±Ø½Ã¿Í À½¾Ç¿¡¼ ±×·¯ÇÑ Á¶ÇÕÀº ÈξÀ ´õ ÀÖÀ» ¼ö ¾ø´Ù.. |
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Besides that, one of the main conditions of artistic creativity is the total freedom of the artist from any sort of preconceived demands. Yet the necessity of adjusting one¡¯s musical work to a poetic work, or vice versa, is just such a preconceived demand, which destroys any possibility of creative work, and therefore productions of this kind, adjusted to each other, have always been and can only be, not works of art, but simulacra of it, like the music in melodramas, captions under pictures, illustrations, opera librettos. |
±×°Í »Ó¸¸ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó, ¿¹¼úÀû âÀǼºÀÇ Áß¿äÇÑ Á¶°Çµé ÁßÀÇ Çϳª´Â ¾î¶²
Á¾·ùÀÇ ¼±ÀÔ°üÀ» Áö´Ñ ¿ä±¸µé·ÎºÎÅÍ ¿¹¼ú°¡ÀÇ ÀüÀûÀÎ ÀÚÀ¯ÀÌ´Ù. ÇÏÁö¸¸ ÀÚ½ÅÀÇ À½¾Ç ÀÛǰÀ» ½ÃÀûÀÎ ÀÛǰ¿¡ ²ç¾î ¸ÂÃâ Çʿ伺 ȤÀº ±× ¹Ý´ë´Â ´ÜÁö
¼±ÀÔ°üÀ» ´ãÀº ¿ä±¸ÀÏ »ÓÀ̸ç, ±×°ÍÀº ¾î¶°ÇÑ Ã¢ÀÇÀû ÀÛǰÀÇ °¡´É¼ºÀÌµç ÆÄ±«Çϸç, ±×·¯¹Ç·Î ÀÌ·± Á¾·ùÀÇ Ã¢ÀÛµéÀº ¼·Î¿¡°Ô ¸ÂÃß¾îÁ®¼, ¾ðÁ¦³ª
±×·¡ ¿Ô°í ±×·² ¼ö ¹Û¿¡ ¾øµíÀÌ, ¿¹¼ú ÀÛǰµéÀÌ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó ¸á·Îµå¶ó¸¶µéÀÇ À½¾Ç, ±×¸²µé ¾Æ·¡ÀÇ ¼³¸íµé, »ðȵé, ¿ÀÆä¶ó °¡»çµéó·³ ±×°ÍÀÇ
À¯»çǰµéÀÌ´Ù. |
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Such, too, are Wagner¡¯s productions. A confirmation of this can be seen in the fact that the chief feature of every true work of art — wholeness, organicness, when the least change in form disturbs the meaning of the entire work — is absent from the new music of Wagner. In a true work of art — poem, drama, painting, song, symphony — one cannot take one line, one scene, one figure, one measure from its place and put it in some other place without disturbing the meaning of the whole, just as one cannot but disturb the life of an organic being by taking an organ from its place and putting it somewhere else. But in Wagner¡¯s music of the latest period, with the exception of certain insignificant passages that have independent musical meaning, one can make all sorts of replacements, putting what came earlier into a later part, and vice versa, without thereby changing the musical meaning. The meaning of Wagner¡¯s music is not changed, because it is contained in the words and not in the music. |
±×·¯Çϱâ´Â ¹Ù±×³ÊÀÇ ÀÛǰµéµµ ¸¶Âù°¡Áö´Ù. À̰ÍÀ» È®ÁõÇÏ´Â ³»¿ëÀº
¸ðµç ÂüµÈ ¿¹¼ú ÀÛǰÀÇ ÁÖµÈ Æ¯Â¡ — Àüü¼º, À¯±â¼ºÀ¸·Î ÇüÅ¿¡¼ÀÇ °¡Àå ÀûÀº º¯È¶óµµ
Àüü ÀÛǰÀÇ Àǹ̸¦ ÈðÆ®¸°´Ù — ÀÌ ¹Ù±×³ÊÀÇ »õ·Î¿î À½¾Ç¿¡¼ °á¿©µÇ¾î ÀÖ´Ù´Â »ç½Ç¿¡¼ º¸¿©Áø´Ù. ÂüµÈ ¿¹¼ú ÀÛǰ — ½Ã, ±Ø, ȸÈ, °¡°î,
±³Çâ°î — ¿¡¼ ´Ü ÇÑ ÁÙ, ÇÑ Àå¸é, ÇÑ À±°û, ÇÑ ¹ÚÀÚµµ ÀüüÀÇ Àǹ̸¦ ÈðÆ®¸² ¾øÀÌ ±× ÀÚ¸®¿¡¼ µé¾î ³»¾î ´Ù¸¥ ÀÚ¸®¿¡ ³õÀ»
¼ö ¾øÀ¸¸ç, ÀÌ´Â À¯±âÀû »ý¸íüÀÇ ±â°üÀ» Á¦ ÀÚ¸®¿¡¼ µé¾î ³»¾î ´Ù¸¥ ¾î ¶² °÷¿¡ ³õ¾Æ µÒÀ¸·Î½á ±×°ÍÀÇ »ý¸íÀ» À§ÅÂ·Ó°Ô ÇÒ ¼ö ¹Û¿¡ ¾ø´Â
°Í°ú ¸¶Âù°¡Áö´Ù. ±×·¯³ª ¹Ù±×³ÊÀÇ ÃÖ±Ù ½Ã±âÀÇ À½¾Ç¿¡¼, µ¶¸³ÀûÀÎ À½¾ÇÀû Àǹ̸¦ Áö´Ñ ÀϺΠ»ç¼ÒÇÑ ¾ÇÀýµéÀ» Á¦¿ÜÇϰí´Â, ¸ðµç Á¾·ùÀÇ ´ëü°¡
°¡´ÉÇÏ¸ç ¾Õ ¿¡ ÀÖ´ø ºÎºÐÀ» µÚ·Î ¿Å±â°í, ±×¿Í ¹Ý´ë·Î µÎ±âµµ ÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖ´Â µî, ±×·³¿¡µµ ºÒ±¸Çϰí À½¾ÇÀû ÀǹÌÀÇ º¯È°¡ »ý±âÁö ¾Ê´Â´Ù.
¹Ù±×³ÊÀÇ À½¾ÇÀÇ Àǹ̴ ¹Ù²îÁö ¾Ê´Â´Ù, ¿Ö³ÄÇÏ¸é ±×°ÍÀº À½¾Ç¿¡ ÀÖÀ½ÀÌ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó, °¡»ç¿¡ Àֱ⠶§¹®ÀÌ´Ù. |
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The musical text of Wagner¡¯s operas may be likened to what a poet of a now numerous sort — having crippled his language so as to be able to write verses on any subject, in any rhymes, in any
meter, and have them come out resembling verses with meaning — would do if he made up his mind to illustrate some symphony or sonata of Beethoven, or a ballade of Chopin, with his verses, so that, for the first few measures of a certain character, he would write verses which, in his opinion, correspond to those first few measures. Then, to the next few measures of a different character he would write what were, in his opinion, corresponding verses, with no inner connection to the first verses and, moreover, with no rhyme or metre. Such a work, without the music, would in a poetic sense be exactly like Wagner¡¯s operas in a musical sense, if they were listened to without the text. |
¹Ù±×³Ê ¿ÀÆä¶óµéÀÇ À½¾ÇÀû À̾߱â´Â ÀÛ±ÝÀÇ ¿©·¯ Á¾·ùÀÇ
— ±×ÀÇ ¾ð¾î¸¦ ¸ÁÃĹö·Á¼ ¾î¶² ÁÖÁ¦¿¡ ´ëÇØ¼¶óµµ ¾î¶² ¿îÀ², ¾î¶² ¾Ð¿î¿¡¼µµ, ¾î¶² ½Ã±¸µéÀÌ¶óµµ ½á ³ª°¥ ¼ö ÀÖÀ¸¸ç, ±×°ÍµéÀÌ Àǹ̸¦ Áö´Ñ
½Ã±¸µéÀ» ´àµµ·Ï ³»¾î ³õÀ» ¼ö ÀÖ´Â — ½ÃÀÎÀ̶ó¸é,
¸¸ÀÏ ±× ½ÃÀÎÀÌ ±×ÀÇ ½Ã±¸µéÀ» °¡Áö°í ¾î¶² ±³Çâ°î ȤÀº º£Å亥ÀÇ ¼Ò³ªÅ¸, ȤÀº ¼îÆØÀÇ ¹ß¶óµå¸¦ ¿¹½ÃÇϱâ·Î ¸¶À½¸Ô°í, ±× °á°ú ±×ÀÇ »ý°¢À¸·Î,
óÀ½ ¸î ¾ÇÀýµé¿¡ ÀÏÄ¡ÇÏ´Â ¾î¶² Ư¡À» Áö´Ñ ±×·± óÀ½ ¸î ¾ÇÀýµé¿¡ ´ëÇØ ½Ã±¸µéÀ» Áö¾î³»°íÀÚ ÀǵµÇÒ ¶§¿Í °°ÀÌ, ÈçÈ÷ ÇàÇÏ´Â ±×·± °Í¿¡
ºñ°ßµÉ ¼ö ÀÖÀ» °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ±×·± ´ÙÀ½, ´Ù¸¥ ¼º°ÝÀ» Áö´Ñ ´ÙÀ½ ¸î ¾ÇÀý¿¡ ´ëÇØ ±×´Â ÀÚ½ÅÀÇ »ý°¢À¸·Î ÀÏÄ¡ÇÏ´Â ½Ã±¸µé, óÀ½ÀÇ ½Ã±¸µé¿¡ ¾Æ¹«·±
³»ÀûÀÎ ¿¬°üÀÌ ¾øÀ¸¸ç ´õ¿íÀÌ ¾Æ¹«·± ¿îÀ², ȤÀº ¾Ð¿îÀÌ ¾ø´Â °ÍÀ» ½á³¾ °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ±×·± ÀÛǰÀº, À½¾ÇÀÌ ¾ø´Ù¸é, À̾߱⸦ ¹èÁ¦ÇÏ°í µé¾î
º»´Ù¸é, ½ÃÀûÀÎ Àǹ̿¡¼ Á¤È®È÷ À½¾ÇÀû Àǹ̻óÀ¸·Î ¹Ù±×³ÊÀÇ ¿ÀÆä¶óµé°ú °°À» °ÍÀÌ´Ù. |
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But Wagner is not only a musician, he is also a poet, or both at once, and therefore, in order to judge Wagner, one must also know his text, that very text which the music must serve. The chief poetic production of Wagner is the poetic rendition of the Nibelungen. This work has acquired such great significance in our time, it has so much influence over everything that nowadays passes for art, that every man of our time must have some idea of it. I have read very attentively the four little books in which this work has been published, and have composed a brief abstract which I have put in the second Appendix, and I strongly advise the reader, if he has not read the text itself, which would be best of all, at least to read my summary, in order to form an idea of this extraordinary work. It is an example of a poetic counterfeit crude to the point of being ridiculous. |
±×·¯³ª ¹Ù±×³Ê´Â À½¾Ç°¡ÀÏ »Ó¸¸ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó, ±×´Â ¶ÇÇÑ ½ÃÀÎÀ̸ç, ȤÀº
µ¿½Ã¿¡ ¾çÀÚÀ̱⵵ Çϸç, ±×·¯¹Ç·Î ¹Ù±×³Ê¸¦ Æò°¡ÇÏ·Á¸é, ¿ì¸®´Â ¶ÇÇÑ ±×ÀÇ À̾߱â, Áï À½¾ÇÀÌ ½ÃÁß µé¾î¾ß ÇÏ´Â ¹Ù·Î À̾߱â ÀÚü¸¦ ¾Ë¾Æ¾ß
ÇÑ´Ù. ¹Ù±×³ÊÀÇ Áß¿äÇÑ ½ÃÀûÀÎ ÀÛǰÀº ´Ïº§·î°ÕÀ» ½ÃÀûÀ¸·Î ÇØ¼®ÇÑ °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ÀÌ ÀÛǰÀº ¿ì¸® ½Ã´ë¿¡ ³Ê¹«³ª °Å´ëÇÑ Àǹ̸¦ ȹµæÇÏ¿´À¸¸ç,
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But it is said that one cannot judge the works of Wagner without having seen them staged. This winter in Moscow there was a performance of the second day, or second act, of this drama — the best of all, I was told — and I went to see it. |
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When I arrived, the enormous theatre was already filled from top to bottom. There were grand dukes and the flower of the aristocracy, and merchants, and scholars, and middle-class clerkdom. Most of them were holding the libretto, trying to understand its meaning. Musicians — some of them elderly, grey-haired men — followed the music with score in hand. Obviously, the performance of this work was an event of sorts. |
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I came a bit late, but I was told that the short prelude that begins the play was of little significance and that I had missed nothing important. On stage, amid scenery supposedly representing a cave in the rocks, in front of some object supposedly representing a blacksmith¡¯s apparatus, sat an actor dressed in tights and a cloak of skins, wearing a wig and a false beard, with weak, white, non-labouring hands (from his slack movements, and above all from his belly and lack of muscle, one could see that he was an actor), beating with a hammer such as never was upon a sword such as never could be, and beating in such a way as no one ever beats with a hammer, all the while opening his mouth strangely and singing something that could not be understood. Music from various instruments accompanied the strange sounds he produced. From the libretto one learned that this actor was supposed to portray a mighty dwarf who lived in the grotto and was forging a sword for Siegfried, whom he had brought up. One could tell he was a dwarf by the fact that the actor walked about all the time with his tight-clad legs bent at the knees. For a long time the actor sang or shouted something, opening his mouth in the same strange way. The music meanwhile ran through something strange, some beginnings of something that had no Sequel and did not end with anything. From the libretto one learned that the dwarf was telling himself about a ring which had come into the possession of a giant, and which he wanted to acquire by means of Siegfried; so Siegfried needed a good sword; it was with the forging of this sword that the dwarf was occupied. After this rather lengthy conversation with or singing to himself, different sounds suddenly come from the orchestra, again something that begins and does not end, and another actor appears with a horn slung over his shoulder, accompanied by a man running on all fours and dressed up as a bear, and he sicks this bear on the dwarf blacksmith, who runs about without unbend¡©ing his tight-clad legs. This other actor must represent Siegfried himself. The sounds produced by the orchestra at this actor¡¯s entrance are supposed to portray Siegfried¡¯s character and are called Siegfried¡¯s leitmotiv. And these sounds are repeated each time Siegfried appears. For each character there is one such specific combination of sounds as a leitmotiv. So that this leitmotiv is repeated each time the character it represents appears; even at the mention of some character, the motiv corresponding to this character is heard. Moreover, each object has its own leitmotiv or chord. There is a motiv of the ring, a motiv of the helmet, a motiv of the apple, fire, spear, sword, water and so on, and as soon as ring, helmet or apple is mentioned — there comes the motiv or chord of the helmet, the apple or whatever. The actor with the horn opens his mouth up as unnaturally as the dwarf and for a long time shouts some words in sing-song and receives sing-song answers from Mime. That is the dwarf¡¯s name. The gist of this conversation, which can be learned only from the libretto, is that Siegfried was brought up by the dwarf, and for some reason hates him on account of that, and keeps wanting to kill him. The dwarf has forged the sword for Siegfried, but Siegfried is not pleased with the sword. From this ten-page (going by the libretto) sing-song conversation, conducted for about half an hour with the same strange opening of mouths, one learns that Siegfried¡¯s mother gave birth to him in the forest, and all that is known of the father is that he had a sword that was broken, and Mime has the pieces, and that Siegfried knew no fear and wanted to leave the forest, but Mime did not want to let him go. In this conversation to music, at each mention of the father, the sword, etc., the motivs of these characters and objects are never omitted. After these conversations, new sounds are heard on stage, those of the god Wotan, and a wanderer appears. This wanderer is the god Wotan. Also in a wig, also in tights, this god Wotan, standing in a silly pose with a spear, for some reason tells all sorts of things that Mime must already know, but that the spectators need to be told anyway. He tells all this not simply, but in the form of riddles which he orders them to ask him, betting his head. God knows why, that he will unriddle them. Each time the wanderer strikes the ground with his spear, fire comes from the ground, and the orchestra produces the sounds of the spear and the sounds of the fire. The conversation is accompanied by the orchestra, with a constant artificial interweaving of the motivs of the characters and objects being talked about. Besides that, feelings are expressed — musically — in the most naive way: the fearsome by bass sounds, the light-hearted by a quick running over the treble, and so on. |
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The riddles have no other purpose than to tell the spectators who the Nibelungs are, who the giants are, who the gods are, and what happened earlier. This conversation, also with mouths strangely gaped open, is done in sing-song and continues for eight libretto pages, and for a correspondingly long time on the stage. After that the wanderer exits, Siegfried enters again and talks with Mime for another thirteen pages. There is not a single melody, but all the while the interweaving of the leitmotivs of the characters and objects being talked about. The talk is about Mime wanting to teach Siegfried fear, and Siegfried not knowing what fear is. Having finished this conversation, Siegfried seizes a piece of what must represent the pieces of the sword, saws it up, puts it on what must represent the forge, welds it together, then hammers on it, singing: ¡®Heaho, heaho, hoho! Hoho, hoho, hoho, hoho; hoheo, haho, haheo, hoho,¡¯ and the first act is over. |
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¶óÀÌÆ®¸ðƼÇÁ¸¦ ¿«¾î ³ª°¥ »ÓÀÌ´Ù. ´ëÈ´Â ¸¶ÀÓÀÌ Áö±×ÇÁ¸®µå¿¡°Ô µÎ·Á¿òÀ» °¡¸£Ä¡°í ½Í¾îÇϸç Áö±×ÇÁ¸®µå´Â µÎ·Á¿òÀÌ ¹«¾ùÀÎÁö ¸ð¸¥´Ù´Â °Í¿¡
´ëÇØ¼ÀÌ´Ù. ÀÌ ´ëȸ¦ ¸¶Ä¡°í ³ª¸é, Áö±×ÇÁ¸®µå´Â Ä® Á¶°¢µéÀ» ³ªÅ¸³»´Â ÇÑ Á¶°¢À» ºÙÀâ°í ±×°ÍÀ» ÅéÁúÇϵí Àß¶ó¼ ȷθ¦ ³ªÅ¸³»´Â °÷¿¡
³Ö¾î¼ ÇÔ²² ¹¶Ä¡°í, ±×°ÍÀ» ¸ÁÄ¡ÁúÇϰí, ³ë·¡ ºÎ¸¥´Ù: 'È÷È£, È÷È£, ȣȣ! ȣȣ ȣȣ ȣȣ ȣȣ; È£Çì¿À, ÇÏÈ£, È£Çì¿À, ȣȣ'.
±×¸®°í Á¦ 1¸·Àº ³¡ÀÌ ³´Ù. |
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The question with which I had come to the theatre was for me indisputably resolved, as indisputably as the question of the merits of the story by the lady of my acquaintance, when she read me the scene between the loose-haired girl in the white dress and the hero with two white dogs and a hat with a feather à la Guillaume Tell. |
³»°¡ ±ØÀå¿¡ ¿Ô´ø Àǹ®Àº ³ª¿¡°Ô ÀÖ¾î¼ ÀǽÉÇÒ ¿©Áö ¾øÀÌ Ç®·È´Ù,
±×°ÍÀº ³»°¡ Àß ¾Æ´Â ºÎÀο¡ ´ëÇÑ À̾߱âÀÇ ÈǸ¢ÇÑ Á¡µé¿¡ ´ëÇÑ Àǹ® ¸¸ÅÀ̳ª ºÐ¸íÈ÷ Ç®·È´Âµ¥, ±×³à´Â ÇÏ¾á ¿ÊÀ» ÀÔÀº ÇëŬ¾îÁø ¸Ó¸®ÀÇ
¼Ò³à¿Í µÎ ¸¶¸®ÀÇ ÇÏ¾á °³µé ¹× Àª¸®¾ö ÅÚ Ç³ÀÇ ±êÅÐÀ» ´Ü ¸ðÀÚ¸¦ °¡Áø ÁÖÀΰø »çÀÌÀÇ Àå¸éÀ» ³»°Ô Àоî ÁÖ¾ú´Ù. |
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There is nothing to be expected from an author who can compose such false scenes, cutting like knives at the aesthetic sense, as those I had seen: one can boldly decide that everything this author writes will be bad, because this author obviously does not know what a true work of art is. I wanted to leave, but the friends with whom I had come begged me to stay, insisting that one could not form a decision by this one act, that it would get better in the second — and so I stayed for the second act. |
¹ÌÇÐÀûÀÎ Àǹ̿¡ ´ëÇØ Įó·³ À߶󳻸ç,±×Åä·Ï À§¼±ÀûÀÎ Àå¸éµéÀ» Áö¾î
³¾ ¼ö ÀÖ´Â ÀÛ°¡·ÎºÎÅÍ´Â ¾Æ¹« °Íµµ ±â´ëÇÒ °ÍÀÌ ¾øÀ¸¸ç, ±×°ÍµéÀº ³»°¡ º¸¾Ò´ø °ÍµéÀÌ´Ù: ÀÌ ÀÛ°¡°¡ ¾²´Â °ÍÀº °¡Ä¡ ¾ø´Â °ÍÀ̶ó°í °ú°¨È÷
´ÜÁ¤ÁöÀ» ¼ö ÀÖ´Ù, ¿Ö³ÄÇϸé ÀÌ ÀÛ°¡´Â ¸í¹éÈ÷ ÂüµÈ ¿¹¼ú ÀÛǰÀÌ ¹«¾ùÀÎÁö ¸ð¸£±â ¶§¹®ÀÌ´Ù. ³ª´Â ÀÚ¸®¸¦ ¶ß°í ½Í¾ú´Ù, ÇÏÁö¸¸ ³ª¿Í ÇÔ²²
¿Â Ä£±¸µéÀÌ ÀÖ¾î´Þ¶ó°í °£Ã»ÇßÀ¸¸ç, ÀÌ ÇÑ ¸·À¸·Î ´ÜÁ¤ÇÒ ¼ö´Â ¾ø´Ù, Á¦ 2¸·¿¡¼´Â ±¦Âú¾Æ Áú °ÍÀ̶ó°í ¸¸·ùÇß´Ù
— ±×·¡¼ ³ª´Â Á¦ 2¸· µ¿¾È ¸Ó¹°·¶´Ù. |
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Second act — night. Then dawn breaks. Generally, the whole play is filled with dawns, fogs, moonlights, darknesses, magic fires, thunderstorms and so on. |
Á¦ 2¸·
— ¹ã. ±×¸®°í µ¿ÀÌ Æ®°í ÀÖ´Ù. ÀϹÝÀûÀ¸·Î Àüü ¿¬±ØÀº ¿©¸íµé, ¾È°³µé, ´Þºûµé, ¾îµÒµé, ¸¶¹ýÀÇ ºÒµé, õµÕ¼Ò¸®µé µîµîÀ¸·Î °¡µæ
Â÷ ÀÖ´Ù. |
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The stage represents a forest and a cave in the forest. By the cave sits a third actor in tights, representing yet another dwarf. Dawn breaks. Again the god Wotan enters with his spear, again in the guise of a wanderer. Again his sounds are heard, then new sounds, as bass as can be produced. These sounds signify that a dragon is speaking. Wotan awakens the dragon. The same bass sounds are repeated, getting more and more bass. The dragon first says, ¡®I want to sleep,¡¯ then he crawls out of the cave. The dragon is played by two men dressed in a sort of green scaly skin, who swing the tail at one end and at the other end open a stuck-on crocodile-like maw, from which comes the light of an electric bulb. The dragon, who is meant to be frightening, and might possibly seem so to five-year-old children, utters some words in a bellowing basso. This is all so stupid, so farcical, that one wonders how people older than seven can seriously attend it; yet thousands of quasi-educated people sit there, listening and watching attentively, admiring it. |
¹«´ë´Â ½£ ±×¸®°í ½£ ¼ÓÀÇ µ¿±¼À» ³ªÅ¸³½´Ù. µ¿±¼ ¿·¿¡ ŸÀÌÃ÷¸¦
ÀÔÀº ¼¼ ¹øÂ° ¹è¿ì°¡ ¾É´Âµ¥, ±×´Â ¶Ç ´Ù¸¥ ³ÀïÀ̸¦ ³ªÅ¸³½´Ù.»õº®ÀÌ ¹à¾Æ ¿Â´Ù. ´Ù½Ã ¿Àµò ½ÅÀº ±×ÀÇ Ã¢À» µé°í µîÀåÇϰí, ´Ù½Ã±Ý
¹æ¶ûÀÚ·Î À§ÀåÇϰí ÀÖ´Ù. ´Ù½Ã ¼Ò¸®µéÀÌ µé¸°´Ù, ±×·±µ¥ »õ·Î¿î ¼Ò¸®µé·Î, °¡´ÉÇÑ ÀúÀ½ÀÌ ¸¸µé¾î Áø´Ù. ÀÌ ¼Ò¸®µéÀº ¿ëÀÌ ¸»Çϰí ÀÖ´Ù´Â
°ÍÀ» »ó¡ÇÑ´Ù. ¿ÀµòÀÌ ¿ëÀ» Àϱú¿î´Ù. ¶È°°Àº ÀúÀ½ÀÌ ¹Ýº¹µÇ¸ç, Á¡Á¡ ´õ ÀúÀ½À¸·Î ³»·Á°£´Ù. ¿ëÀÌ ¸ÕÀú ¸»ÇÑ´Ù, "³ª´Â ÀÚ°í ½Í´Ù,"
±×¸®°í ±×´Â µ¿±¼ ¹ÛÀ» ±â¾î ³ª°£´Ù. ¿ëÀº µÎ »ç¶÷¿¡ ÀÇÇØ ¿¬±âµÇ´Âµ¥ ÀÏÁ¾ÀÇ Çª¸¥ »ö ºñ´Ã °¡Á× °°Àº °ÍÀ» ÀÔ°í ÀÖÀ¸¸ç, ±×µéÀº ÇÑ ÂÊ
³¡¿¡¼ ²¿¸®¸¦ Èֵθ£¸ç, ´Ù¸¥ ÇÑ ÂÊ ³¡¿¡¼ µé¾îºÙÀº ¾Ç¾î °°Àº ÀÔÀ» ¹ú¸®°í, ±× ¾È¿¡¼ Àü±¸ ºûÀÌ ³ª¿À°Ô ÇÑ´Ù. ¿ëÀº, ¹«¼¿ö º¸À̵µ·Ï
ÀǹÌÇÏ´Â °ÍÀ¸·Î, ¾Æ¸¶µµ ´Ù¼¸ »ì ¾ÆÀ̵鿡°Ô³ª ±×·¸°Ô º¸ÀÏ °Í °°Àºµ¥, Æ÷È¿ÇÏ´Â ÀúÀ½À¸·Î ¸î ¸¶µð Áö²¬ÀδÙ. À̰ÍÀº ¸ðµÎ ³Ê¹«³ª ¸ÛÃ»ÇØ
º¸À̸ç,¹Ùº¸½º·¯¿ö¼ ¾îÂîÇÏ¿© Àϰö »ì ³Ñ´Â »ç¶÷µéÀÌ ±×°Í¿¡ ÁøÁöÇÏ°Ô °ü¶÷ÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖ´ÂÁö ³î¶ó¿ï »ÓÀÌ´Ù; ÇÏÁö¸¸ ¼ÒÀ§ ±³À°¹Þ¾Ò´Ù´Â ¼öõÀÇ
»ç¶÷µéÀÌ °Å±â ¾É¾Æ¼ ÁøÁöÇÏ°Ô µè°í º¸°í °æÅºÇϰí ÀÖ´Â °ÍÀÌ´Ù. |
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Siegfried enters with his horn and Mime. The orchestra plays the sounds signifying them, and Siegfried and Mime talk about whether Siegfried does or does not know what fear is. Then Mime exits and there begins a scene that is meant to be most poetic. Siegfried in his tights lies down in what is supposed to be a beautiful pose, now silent, now talking to himself. He dreams, he listens to the birds singing and wants to imitate them. To that end, he cuts a reed with his sword and makes a pipe. Day dawns more and more; the birds sing. Siegfried tries to imitate the birds. From the orchestra comes an imitation of birds mixed with the sounds corresponding to the words he speaks. But Siegfried does not succeed in playing the pipe, so he plays his horn. This scene is unbearable. There is no trace of music in it — that is, of art serving as a means of conveying the mood experienced by the author. There is something completely incomprehensible in a musical sense. In a musical sense there is always hope, followed immediately by disappointment, as if a musical thought were begun and at once broken off. If there is anything resembling the beginnings of music, these beginnings are so brief, so encumbered with complicated harmony, orchestration, effects of contrast, they are so obscure, so unfinished, and with all that the falsity of what takes place on stage is so repulsive, that they are hard to notice, to say nothing of being infected by them. And the main thing is that the author¡¯s intentions are heard and seen from the very beginning to the end, and in every note, so much so that one sees and hears not Siegfried or the birds, but only the limited, self-confident bad tone and bad taste of a German, whose ideas of poetry are absolutely false, and who wants, in the most crude and primitive fashion, to convey these false notions of poetry to me. |
Áö±×ÇÁ¸®µå´Â ±×ÀÇ »ÔÇǸ® ¹× ¸¶ÀÓ°ú ÇÔ²² µîÀåÇÑ´Ù. ¿ÀÄɽºÆ®¶ó´Â
±×µéÀ» °¡¸®Å°´Â ¼Ò¸®µéÀ» ¿¬ÁÖÇÑ´Ù, ±×¸®°í Áö±×ÇÁ¸®µå¿Í ¸¶ÀÓÀº Áö±×ÇÁ¸®µå°¡ µÎ·Á¿òÀÌ ¹«¾ùÀÎÁö ¾Æ´ÂÁö ¸ð¸£´ÂÁö¿¡ ´ëÇØ ¸»Çϰí ÀÖ´Ù. ±× ¶§
¸¶ÀÓÀÌ ÅðÀåÇÏ°í °¡Àå ½ÃÀûÀ̰íÀÚ ÇÏ´Â Àå¸éÀÌ ½ÃÀ۵ȴÙ. ŸÀÌÃ÷¸¦ ÀÔÀº Áö±×ÇÁ¸®µå´Â ¾Æ¸§´Ù¿î ÀÚÅ·Π¿©°ÜÁö´Â ÀÚ¼¼·Î ¾É¾Æ¼ ¶§·Î´Â
ħ¹¬À¸·Î, ¶§·Î´Â ½º½º·Î¿¡°Ô Áß¾ó°Å¸°´Ù. ±×´Â ²ÞÀ» ²Û´Ù, ±×´Â »õµéÀÌ ³ë·¡ÇÏ´Â °Í¿¡ ±Í¸¦ ±â¿ïÀÌ°í ±×µéÀ» Èä³» ³»°íÀÚ ÇÑ´Ù. ±×·¸°Ô
ÇϰíÀÚ ±×´Â Ä®À» °¡Áö°í °¥´ë¸¦ Àß¶ó¼ ÇǸ®¸¦ ¸¸µç´Ù. ³¯Àº Á¡Á¡ ´õ ¹à¾Æ ¿Â´Ù; »õµéÀÌ ³ë·¡ÇÑ´Ù. Áö±×ÇÁ¸®µå´Â ¿½ÉÈ÷ »õµéÀ» Èä³» ³»·Á
ÇÑ´Ù. ¿ÀÄɽºÆ®¶ó°¡ ±×°¡ ÇÏ´Â ¸»¿¡ »óÀÀÇÏ´Â ¼Ò¸®µéÀ» ¼¯¾î¼ »õµéÀ» Èä³» ³½´Ù. ±×·¯³ª Áö±×ÇÁ¸®µå´Â ÇǸ® ºÒ±â¿¡ ¼º°øÇÏÁö ¸øÇϰí,
±×ÀÇ »ÔÇǸ®¸¦ ¿¬ÁÖÇÑ´Ù.ÀÌ Àå¸éÀº ÂüÀ» ¼ö ¾ø´Ù. °Å±â¿£ ¾Æ¹«·± À½¾ÇÀÇ
— Áï, ÀÛ°¡¿¡ ÀÇÇØ °æÇèµÈ ±âºÐÀ» Àü´ÞÇÏ´Â ¼ö´ÜÀ¸·Î ÀÛ¿ëÇÏ´Â ¿¹¼úÀÇ —
ÈçÀûÀÌ ¾ø´Ù
À½¾ÇÀûÀÎ Àǹ̷μ´Â ¿ÏÀüÈ÷ ÀÌÇØÇÒ ¼ö ¾ø´Â ¾î¶²
°ÍÀÌ ÀÖ´Ù. À½¾ÇÀûÀÎ Àǹ̷δ ¾ðÁ¦³ª Èñ¸ÁÀÌ ÀÖÀ¸¸ç, ÀÌ¾î¼ Áï½Ã ½Ç¸ÁÀÌ µÚ µû¸¥´Ù, ¸¶Ä¡ À½¾ÇÀûÀÎ »ý°¢ÀÌ ½ÃÀ۵Ǿú°í ´çÀå ²÷¾îÁ® ¹ö¸°
°Íó·³. ¸¸ÀÏ À½¾ÇÀÇ ½ÃÀÛµé°ú ´àÀº ¾î¶² °ÍµéÀÌ Á¸ÀçÇϱâ¶óµµ ÇÑ´Ù¸é, ÀÌ ½ÃÀÛµéÀº ³Ê¹«³ª ª°í, º¹ÀâÇÑ ÈÀ½, ¾Ç±âÆí¼º, ´ëºñ È¿°ú·Î ³Ê¹«
²Ë Â÷ÀÖÀ¸¸ç ±×°ÍµéÀº ³Ê¹« ¸ðÈ£Çϰí, ³Ê¹« ³¡¸ÎÀ½ÀÌ ¾øÀ¸¸ç, ±×¸®°í ¹«´ë¿¡¼ ÀϾ´Â ±× °°Àº ¸ðµç À§¼±ÀÌ ³Ê¹« ¿ª°Ü¿ö¼, ±×°Íµé¿¡ ÀÇÇØ
Àü¿°µÊÀº Â÷Ä¡Çϰí¶óµµ, ±×°ÍµéÀ» ¾Ë¾Æ º¼ ¼ö°¡ ¾ø´Ù. ±×¸®°í Áß¿äÇÑ °ÍÀº ÀÛ°¡ÀÇ ÀǵµµéÀÌ ½ÃÁ¾Àϰü µé·ÁÁö¸ç º¸Àδٴ °ÍÀ̸ç, ±×¸®°í ¸ðµç
À½Ç¥¿¡¼ º¸°í µéÀ» ¼ö ÀÖ´Â °ÍÀº Áö±×ÇÁ¸®µå ȤÀº »õµéÀÌ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó µ¶ÀÏÀÎÀÇ ¿À·ÎÁö ÆíÇùÇϸç, ÀÚ¸¸¿¡ Âù Áú ³·Àº À½Á¶ ¹× ÃëÇâÀ̸ç,
±×µéÀÇ ½Ã¿¡ ´ëÇÑ °³³äµéÀÌ Àý´ëÀûÀ¸·Î À§¼±ÀûÀ̰í, ±×µéÀÌ °¡Àå õ¹ÚÇÏ¸ç ¿ø½ÃÀûÀÎ ¹æ¹ýÀ¸·Î ½Ã¿¡ ´ëÇÑ À̵é À§¼±Àû °³³äµéÀ» ³»°Ô ÀüÇϱ⸦
¿øÇÑ´Ù´Â °ÍÀÌ´Ù. |
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Everyone knows the feeling of distrust and resistance evoked by the obviousness of an author¡¯s intentions. A narrator need only tell you beforehand to get ready to weep or laugh, and you are certain not to weep or laugh; but when you see that the author not only prescribes that we be moved by something that not only is not moving but is ludicrous or repulsive, and when you see, furthermore, that the author is unquestionably certain that he has captivated you, the result is a heavy, tormenting feeling, similar to what anyone would experience if an ugly old woman, dressed up in a ballgown and smiling, twirled in front of you, certain of your sympathy. This impression was reinforced because I saw around me a crowd of three thousand people who not only listened obediently to this totally incoherent gibberish, but considered it their duty to admire it. |
´©±¸¶óµµ ÀÛ°¡ÀÇ ÀǵµµéÀÇ ¸í¹éÇÔÀ¸·Î À¯¹ßµÇ´Â ºÒ½Å°ú ÀúÇ×ÀÇ ´À³¦À»
¾È´Ù. ³»·¹ÀÌÅÍ´Â ¿ÀÁ÷ ´ç½ÅÀÌ ¹Ì¸® ¿ï°Å³ª ȤÀº ¿ôÀ» Áغñ¸¦ Ç϶ó°í ¸»Çϱ⸸ ÇÏ¸é µÈ´Ù, ±×¸®°í ´ç½ÅÀº ºÐ¸íÈ÷ ¿ïÁöµµ ¿ôÁöµµ ¾Ê´Â´Ù; ÇÏÁö¸¸
ÀÛ°¡°¡ ¿ì¸®¿¡°Ô °¨µ¿ÀûÀÌÁö ¾ÊÀ» »Ó¸¸ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó ¿ì½º²Î½º·´°Å³ª ¿ª°Ü¿î ¾î¶² °ÍÀ¸·Î °¨µ¿¹ÞÀ» °ÍÀ» ¿ä±¸Çϰí ÀÖÀ½À» ´ç½ÅÀÌ ±ú´ÞÀ» ¶§, ´õ¿íÀÌ
ÀÛ°¡°¡ ´ç½ÅÀ» »ç·ÎÀâ¾Ò´Ù´Â °ÍÀ» ÀǽÉÀÇ ¿©Áö ¾øÀÌ È®½ÅÇϰí ÀÖ´Ù´Â °ÍÀ» ´ç½ÅÀÌ ¾Ë ¶§, °á°ú´Â ¹«°Ì°í °íÅ뽺·± ´À³¦À̸ç, ÀÌ´Â ¸¶Ä¡ ¾î¶²
ÃßÇÑ ³ëÆÄ°¡ ¹«µµº¹À» ÀÔ°í ¿ôÀ¸¸é¼ ´ç½ÅÀÇ ¿¬¹ÎÀ» È®½ÅÇÏ¸é¼ ´ç½Å ¾ÕÀ» ºùºù µ¹°í ÀÖÀ» ¶§ ´©±¸¶óµµ °æÇèÇÏ´Â °Í°ú °°´Ù. ÀÌ·± ÀλóÀº °¿äµÈ
°ÍÀÌ´Ù ¿Ö³ÄÇÏ¸é ³ª´Â ³» ÁÖº¯¿¡¼ ÀÌ °°Àº ÀüÀûÀ¸·Î ¾ÕµÚ°¡ ¸ÂÁö ¾Ê´Â Ⱦ¼³¼ö¼³¿¡ ¾äÀüÈ÷ ±Í¸¦ ±â¿ïÀÏ »Ó¸¸ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó, ±×°Í¿¡ °æÅºÇÏ´Â °ÍÀ»
±×µéÀÇ Àǹ«·Î ¿©±â´Â »ïõ ¸íÀ̳ª µÇ´Â ±ºÁßµéÀ» º¸¾Ò±â ¶§¹®ÀÌ´Ù. |
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Somehow I managed to sit through the next scene with the entrance of the monster, accompanied by bass notes interwoven with Siegfried¡¯s motiv, the fight with the monster, all the roaring, the flames, the brandishings of the sword, but more I could not endure, and I rushed from the theatre with a feeling of revulsion that I still cannot forget. |
¾î·µç ³ª´Â ´ÙÀ½ Àå¸é±îÁö ¾É¾Æ ÀÖ´Ù°¡ ±«¹°ÀÇ µîÀåÀ» ¸ÂÀÌ ÇÏ¿´°í,
Áö±×ÇÁ¸®µåÀÇ ¸ðƼÇÁ¿Í ÇÔ²² ¿«¿©Áø ³·Àº À½Ç¥µé, ±«¹°°úÀÇ ½Î¿ò, ¸ðµç Æ÷È¿ÇÏ´Â ¼Ò¸®µé, È¿°µé, Ä®À» Èֵθ£´Â ¼Ò¸®µéÀÌ À̾îÁ³´Ù, ÇÏÁö¸¸
³ª´Â ´õ¿í ÂüÀ» ¼ö ¾ø¾ú°í, ¾ÆÁ÷µµ ÀØÀ» ¼ö ¾ø´Â ¿ª°Ü¿î ´À³¦À» °¡Áö°í ±ØÀåÀ» ¶ÙÃijª¿Ô´Ù. |
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Listening to this opera, I could not help thinking of a respectable, intelligent, literate village labourer — one of those intelligent, truly religious men whom I know among the people — and imagining the terrible perplexity of such a man if he were to be shown what I had seen that evening. |
ÀÌ ¿ÀÆä¶ó¸¦ °¨»óÇϸé¼, ³ª´Â Á¸°æ½º·´°í, Áö¼ºÀûÀ̸ç, ÇÐ½Ä ÀÖ´Â
¸¶À»ÀÇ ÇÑ ³ëµ¿ÀÚ
— ¹ÎÁßµé Áß¿¡¼ ³»°¡ ¾Ë°í Áö³»´Â Áö¼ºÀûÀ̸ç, Áø½Ç·Î Á¾±³ÀûÀÎ »ç¶÷µé ÁßÀÇ ÇÑ »ç¶÷
— ¸¦ »ý°¢ÇØ º¸°í ¸¸ÀÏ ±×°¡ ³»°¡ ±×³¯ Àú³á º¸¾Ò´ø °ÍÀ» °ü¶÷Çϱâ¶óµµ Çß´Ù¸é ±×·± »ç¶÷ÀÌ ´À²¼À» ¹«½Ã¹«½ÃÇÑ ´çȤ°¨À» »ó»óÇØº¸Áö
¾ÊÀ» ¼ö ¾ø¾ú´Ù.
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What would he think if he knew of all the effort expended on this performance, and saw that audience, the mighty of this world, whom he is accustomed to respect, these old, bald-headed, grey-bearded men, sitting for a good six hours in silence, attentively listening to and watching all this stupidity? But, to say nothing of an adult labourer, it is hard to imagine even a child of more than seven who could be amused by this stupid, incoherent tale. |
¾î¶»°Ô »ý°¢ÇÒ °ÍÀΰ¡ ±×°¡ ¸¸ÀÏ ÀÌ °ø¿¬À» À§ÇØ ¼Ò¸ðµÈ ¸ðµç
³ë·Âµé¿¡ ´ëÇØ ¾Ë°í, ûÁßµéÀÌ, ±×°¡ ´Ã Á¸°æÇÏ´Â ÀÌ ¼¼»óÀÇ ±Ç·ÂÀÚµé, ÀÌµé ¿¬·ÎÇÏ°í ¹ö¸®°í ¹þ°ÜÁø, ȸ»ö ¼ö¿°À» ÇÑ »ç¶÷µéÀÌ ÀåÀå ¿©¼¸
½Ã°£ µ¿¾È ¾É¾Æ¼ ÀáÀáÈ÷ ÀÌ ¸ðµç ¾î¸®¼®Àº ÁþÀ» °æÃ»ÇÏ¸ç º¸°í ÀÖ´Ù´Â °ÍÀ» ¾È´Ù¸é ¸»ÀÌ´Ù. ÇÏÁö¸¸, ÇÑ ¾î¸¥ ³ëµ¿ÀÚ¸¦ Á¦Ãĵΰí¶óµµ, ½ÉÁö¾î
ÀϰöÀÌ ³Ñ´Â ¾ÆÀÌ¶óµµ ÀÌ·± ¸ÛûÇÑ, Ⱦ¼³¼ö¼³ÇÏ´Â À̾߱⿡ Áñ°Å¿öÇϸ®¶ó´Â °ÍÀº »ó»óÇØº¸±â Á¶Â÷ ¾î·Æ´Ù. |
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And yet a huge audience, the flower of the educated upper class, sits through these six hours of mad performance and leaves imagining that, having given this stupidity its due, it has acquired a fresh right to regard itself as progressive and enlightened. |
±×¸®°í ÇÏÁö¸¸ °Å´ëÇÑ Ã»ÁßµéÀÌ, ±³À°¹ÞÀº »ó·ù °è±ÞµéÀÇ ²ÉµéÀÌ, ÀÌ
¿©¼¸ ½Ã°£ µ¿¾ÈÀÇ ¹ÌÄ£ °ø¿¬ ³»³» ¾É¾Æ ÀÖ´Ù°¡, ÀÌ ¸ÛûÇÑ ÁþÀÌ ³ª¸§´ë·Î °¡Ä¡°¡ ÀÖ´Ù°í ¿©±â¸ç, ±×°ÍÀÌ Áøº¸ÀûÀÌ¸ç °è¸ùµÈ °ÍÀ¸·Î ½º½º·Î ¿©±æ
¸¸ÇÑ Âü½ÅÇÑ ±Ç¸®¸¦ ¾ò¾ú´Ù°í »ó»óÇÏ¸é¼ ÀÚ¸®¸¦ ¶á´Ù. |
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I am speaking of the Moscow public. But what is the Moscow public? It is one hundredth part of that public which regards itself as most enlightened and counts it to its credit that it has lost the ability to be infected by art to such a degree that it is capable not only of being present at this stupid falseness, but even of admiring it. |
³ª´Â ¸ð½ºÅ©¹ÙÀÇ ´ëÁßµéÀ» ¸»Çϰí ÀÖ´Ù. ±×·¯³ª ¸ð½ºÅ©¹ÙÀÇ ´ëÁßµéÀº
¹«¾ùÀ̶õ ¸»Àΰ¡? ±×µéÀº ½º½º·Î¸¦ °¡Àå °è¸ùµÇ¾ú´Ù°í ¿©±â´Â ´ëÁßÀÇ ¹éºÐÀÇ ÀÏÀ̸ç ÇØ´çµÇ¸ç ÀÌ·± ¾î¸®¼®Àº À§¼±¿¡ Âü¿©ÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖÀ» »Ó¸¸ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó
±×°ÍÀ» Âù¾çÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖ´Â Á¤µµ·Î ¿¹¼ú¿¡ ÀÇÇØ Àü¿°µÉ ¼ö ÀÖ´Â ´É·ÂÀ» »ó½ÇÇßÀ½À» ´ç¿¬È÷ ¿©±â°í ÀÖ´Ù. |
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In Bayreuth, where these performances began, [92] people who regarded themselves as refinedly educated came from all over the world, spending about a thousand roubles
per person, just to see the performance, and for four days in a row, sitting it
out for six hours a day, they went to watch and listen to this absurdity and
falseness. |
¹ÙÀÌ·ÎÀÌÆ®´Â ÀÌ °ø¿¬µéÀÌ ½ÃÀÛµÈ °÷À¸·Î, ÀÚĪ ¼¼·ÃµÈ ±³À°À»
¹Þ¾Ò´Ù°í ¿©±â´Â »ç¶÷µéÀÌ Àü ¼¼°è·ÎºÎÅÍ ¸ð¿©µé¾î, ´ÜÁö ±× °ø¿¬À» º¸±â À§ÇØ, ÇÑ ÁÙ¿¡ »çÀÏ µ¿¾È ÇÏ·ç¿¡ ¿©¼¸ ½Ã°£À» ¾É¾Æ¼ ÀÏÀδç õ
·çºí¾¿ ¼ÒºñÇϸé¼, ÀÌ·± Ȳ´çÇÔ°ú À§¼±À» º¸°í µéÀ¸·¯ °¬´Ù. |
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But why did and why do people still go to these performances, and why do they admire them? The question involuntarily arises: how is the success of Wagner¡¯s works to be explained? |
ÇÏÁö¸¸ ¿Ö ÀÌ »ç¶÷µéÀº ÀÌ °ø¿¬µé¿¡ °¬À¸¸ç ¿Ö Áö±Ýµµ °¡´Â°¡,
±×¸®°í ¿Ö ±×µéÀº ±×°ÍµéÀ» Âù¾çÇϴ°¡? Áú¹®ÀÌ ÀÚ¿¬½º·¹ ¶°¿À¸¥´Ù: ¹Ù±×³ÊÀÇ ÀÛǰµéÀÇ ¼º°øÀº ¾î¶»°Ô ¼³¸íµÉ ¼ö Àִ°¡? |
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I explain this success to myself by the fact that, thanks to the exclusive position he occupied, having a king¡¯s resources at his disposal, Wagner very skilfully employed all the methods of falsification worked out in the long practice of counterfeiting art and composed an exemplary counterfeit of an artistic production. I have taken this work as an example precisely because in no other artistic counterfeit known to me are all the methods of counterfeiting art — namely, borrowing, imitation, effectfulness and diversion — combined with such mastery and power. |
³ª´Â ÀÌ ¼º°øÀ» ³ª Àڽſ¡°Ô ´ÙÀ½°ú °°Àº »ç½Ç·Î ¼³¸íÇØ º»´Ù, Áï
±×°¡ Â÷ÁöÇÑ ¹èŸÀûÀÎ ÁöÀ§ ´öÅÃÀ¸·Î, ¿ÕÀÇ Àç¹°µéÀ» ±×ÀÇ ¸¶À½´ë·Î ÀÌ¿ëÇϸé¼, ¹Ù±×³Ê´Â ¿¹¼úÀ» À§Á¶Çϱâ À§ÇÑ ¿À·¡µÈ ¼ö´Üµé·Î °í¾ÈµÈ ¸ðµç
º¯Á¶ ¹æ¹ýµéÀ» ¸Å¿ì ±³¹¦ÇÏ°Ô Ã¤ÅÃÇÏ¿© ¿¹¼úÀû ÀÛǰ¿¡ ´ëÇÑ ÀüÇüÀûÀÎ ¸ðÁ¶Ç°À» ¸¸µé¾î ³»¾ú´Ù. ³»°¡ ÀÌ ÀÛǰÀ» º»º¸±â·Î µç °ÍÀº Á¤È®È÷ ÀÌ·±
ÀÌÀ¯¿¡¼, Áï, ³»°Ô
¾Ë·ÁÁø ´Ù¸¥ ¾î¶² ¿¹¼úÀû ¸ðÁ¶¿¡¼µµ ¿¹¼úÀ» À§Á¶ÇÏ´Â ¸ðµç ¹æ¹ýµé - Áï, Â÷¿ë, ¸ð¹æ, È¿°ú ¹× Àüȯ - À» ÀÌÅä·Ï ´É¼÷Çϰí ÈûÀÖ°Ô °áÇÕÇÑ
°ÍÀº ¾ø¾ú´Ù´Â °ÍÀÌ´Ù. |
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Starting with a theme from antiquity and ending with fogs and moon — and sunrises, Wagner employs all that is considered poetic in this work. Here we have a sleeping beauty, and river nymphs, and subterranean fires, and gnomes, and battles, and swords, and love, and incest, and a monster, and singing birds — the whole arsenal of poeticality is put to use. |
°í´ëÀÇ ÁÖÁ¦·Î ½ÃÀÛÇÏ¿© ¾È°³¿Í ´Þ
— ±×¸®°í ÇØµ¸ÀÌµé — ³¡³¿À¸·Î½á, ¹Ù±×³Ê´Â ±×ÀÇ ÀÛǰ¿¡¼ ½ÃÀûÀÎ °ÍÀ¸·Î ¿©°ÜÁö´Â ¸ðµç °ÍÀ» ÀÌ¿ëÇÑ´Ù. ¿ì¸®´Â ¿©±â¼ ÀáÀÚ´Â ¹Ì³à, ±×¸®°í
°ÀÇ ¿äÁ¤µé, ±×¸®°í ÁöÇÏÀÇ È¿°µé, ±×¸®°í ¶¥ÀÇ ¿äÁ¤µé, ±×¸®°í ÀüÀïµé, ±×¸®°í Ä®µé, ±×¸®°í »ç¶û, ±×¸®°í ±ÙÄ£»ó°£, ±×¸®°í ±«¹°,
±×¸®°í ³ë·¡ÇÏ´Â »õµéÀ» º¸°Ô µÈ´Ù — Áï, ½ÃÀûÀÎ °ÍÀÇ ÃÑüÀû ¹«±â°í°¡ »ç¿ëµÇ´Â °ÍÀÌ´Ù. |
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Furthermore, it is all imitative: both sets and costumes are imitative. Everything is done as it must have been in antiquity, according to archaeological data. The very sounds are imitative. Wagner, who was not without musical talent, invented precisely the sounds to imitate the strokes of a hammer, the hiss of red-hot iron, the singing of birds and so on. |
°Ô´Ù°¡ ±×°ÍÀº ¸ðµÎ ¸ð¹æÀûÀÌ´Ù: ¼¼Æ®µé°ú ÀÇ»óµéµµ ¸ð¹æÀûÀÌ´Ù. ¸ðµç
°ÍÀº °í°íÇÐÀûÀÎ ÀÚ·á¿¡ ÀÇÇØ¼ ¸¶Ä¡ °í´ë¿¡ ÀÖ¾ú´ø °Íó·³ ÀÌ·ç¾î Áø´Ù. ¼Ò¸®µé ÀÚüµµ ¸ð¹æÀûÀÌ´Ù. ¹Ù±×³Ê´Â, À½¾ÇÀû Àç´ÉÀÌ ¾øÁö ¾Ê¾ÒÀ¸¹Ç·Î,
¸ÁÄ¡¸¦ µÎµå¸², ¹ú°Ó°Ô ´Ü ¼èÀÇ Ä¢Ä¢°Å¸², »õµéÀÌ ³ë·¡ÇÔ µîÀ» Èä³» ³»´Â ¼Ò¸®µéÀ» ²Ù¸ç ³Â´Ù. |
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Besides that, everything in this work is strikingly effectful in the highest degree — striking both in its details (monsters and magic fires) and in actions that take place in the water, and in the darkness in which the audience sits, and in the invisibility of the orchestra, and in the new, never-before-employed harmonic combinations. |
±×»Ó¸¸ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó, ÀÌ ÀÛǰ¿¡¼ ¸ðµç °ÍÀº ÃÖ°íÀÇ °æÁö¿¡¼ µÎµå·¯Áö°Ô
— (±«¹°µé ¹× ¸¶¹ýÀÇ ºÒµéÀÇ) ³»¿ëÀÇ »ó¼¼ÇÔ »Ó¸¸ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó ¹° ¼Ó¿¡¼ ÀϾ´Â Çൿµé¿¡¼, ±×¸®°í ûÁßµéÀÌ ¾É´Â ¾îµÒ ¼Ó¿¡¼,
±×¸®°í ¿ÀÄɽºÆ®¶ó°¡ º¸ÀÌÁö ¾Ê°Ô ÇÔ¿¡¼, ±×¸®°í »õ·Ó°í, ÀÌÀü¿¡ °áÄÚ Ã¤ÅÃÇÑ ÀûÀÌ ¾ø´Â ÈÀ½ÀÇ Á¶Çյ鿡¼ µÎµå·¯Áö°Ô
—
È¿°ú·Î Â÷ÀÖ´Ù. |
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And, moreover, everything is diverting. The diversion lies not only in who will kill whom, and who will marry whom, and who is whose son, and what will happen after what — there is also diversion in the relation of music and text: waves are flowing on the Rhine — how will that be expressed in music? A wicked dwarf enters — how will music express the wicked dwarf? How will music express the sensuality of this dwarf? How will courage, fire, apples be expressed in music? How does the leitmotiv of a person speaking interweave with the leitmotivs of the characters and objects of which he speaks? Besides, the music itself is diverting. This music departs from all previously accepted laws; the most unexpected and completely new modulations appear in it (which is very easy and quite possible in music that has no inner structure). The dissonances are new and are resolved in a new way, and this is diverting. |
±×¸®°í, ´õ±¸³ª ¸ðµç °ÍÀÌ ÀüȯÀûÀÌ´Ù. ÀüȯÀº ´©°¡ ´©±¸¸¦ Á×ÀÏ
°ÍÀΰ¡, ±×¸®°í ´©°¡ ´©±¸¿Í °áÈ¥ÇÒ °ÍÀΰ¡, ±×¸®°í ´©°¡ ´©±¸ÀÇ ¾ÆµéÀÎÁö, ±×¸®°í ¹«¾ù µÚ¿¡ ¹«¾ùÀÌ ÀϾ °ÍÀΰ¡¿¡ ÀÖ´Â °Í¸¸ÀÌ ¾Æ´Ï¸ç
— À½¾Ç ¹× À̾߱âÀÇ °ü°è¿¡µµ Á¸ÀçÇÑ´Ù: ¶óÀΰ¿¡ ¹°°áÀÌ È帥´Ù
— ±×°ÍÀÌ À½¾Ç¿¡¼ ¾î¶»°Ô Ç¥ÇöµÉ °ÍÀΰ¡? »ç¾ÇÇÑ ³ÀïÀ̰¡ ÀÔÀåÇÑ´Ù
— »ç¾ÇÇÑ ³ÀïÀ̸¦ ¾î¶»°Ô Ç¥ÇöÇÒ °ÍÀΰ¡? ÀÌ ³ÀåÀÌÀÇ °ü´É¼ºÀ» ¾î¶»°Ô Ç¥ÇöÇÒ °ÍÀΰ¡? ÇÑ Àι°ÀÇ ¶óÀÌÆ®¸ðƼÇÁ´Â ±×°¡ ¸»ÇÏ´Â
µîÀåÀι°µé ¹× »ç¹°µéÀÇ ¶óÀÌÆ®¸ðƼÇÁ¸¦ ¾î¶»°Ô Â¥ ¸ÂÃâ °ÍÀΰ¡? °Ô´Ù°¡, À½¾Ç ÀÚüµµ ÀüȯÀûÀÌ´Ù. ÀÌ À½¾ÇÀº ÀÌÀü¿¡ ¼ö¿ëµÇ´ø ¸ðµç ¿øÄ¢µé¿¡¼
¹þ¾î³´Ù; °Å±â¿¡¼± °¡Àå ¿¹ÃøÇÒ ¼ö ¾ø´Â ±×¸®°í ¿ÏÀüÈ÷ »õ·Î¿î Á¶¹Ù²ÞÀÌ ³ªÅ¸³´Ù (±×°ÍÀº ¾Æ¹«·± ³»ÀûÀÎ ±¸Á¶¸¦ Áö´ÏÁö ¾ÊÀº
À½¾Ç¿¡¼± ³Ê¹«³ª ¿ëÀÌÇÏ¸ç »ó´çÈ÷ °¡´ÉÇÏ´Ù). ºÒÇùÈÀ½Àº »õ·Î¿î °ÍÀÌ¸ç »õ·Î¿î ¹æ¹ýÀ¸·Î ÇØ°áµÈ´Ù. |
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These poetical, imitative, striking and diverting qualities, owing both to Wagner¡¯s peculiar talent and to his advantageous position, are brought to the highest degree of perfection in these works, and affect the spectator by hypnotizing him, as a man who listens for several hours to the ravings of a madman uttered with great oratorical skill will also become hypnotized. |
ÀÌó·³ ½ÃÀûÀ̸ç, ¸ð¹æÀûÀ̸ç, µÎµå·¯Áö°í ÀüȯÀûÀÎ ¼ºÁúµéÀº,
¹Ù±×³ÊÀÇ Æ¯ÀÌÇÑ Àç´É ¹× ±×ÀÇ À¯¸®ÇÑ ÁöÀ§¿¡ ÀÇÇØ, ÀÌ ÀÛǰµé¿¡¼ ÃÖ°íÀÇ ¿Ï¼ºµµ·Î Á¦½ÃµÇ¸ç, ¹ÌÄ£ »ç¶÷ÀÌ ¾öû³ ¿õº¯Àû ±â¼ú·Î ¹ñ¾î³»´Â
Çê¼Ò¸®µé¿¡ ¿©·¯ ½Ã°£ µ¿¾È ±Í¸¦ ±â¿ïÀ̰í ÀÖ´Â »ç¶÷À̶ó¸é ¶ÇÇÑ ÃÖ¸éµÇ±â ¸¶·ÃÀδë·Î,±¸°æ²ÛÀ» ÃÖ¸é½ÃÅ´À¸·Î½á ±×¿¡°Ô ¿µÇâÀ» ¹ÌÄ£´Ù. |
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They say you cannot judge without having seen Wagner¡¯s productions in Bayreuth, in the darkness, where the music is not seen, being placed under the stage, and the performance is brought to the highest degree of perfection. But this precisely proves that it is a matter, not of art, but of hypnosis. The spiritualists say the same thing. In order to convince people of the genuineness of their visions, they usually say that you cannot judge, you must experience it — that is, spend several hours in a row sitting silently in the company of half-mad people, and repeat this about ten times — and then you will see everything that we see. |
»ç¶÷µéÀº ¸»ÇÑ´Ù, ¹ÙÀÌ·ÎÀÌÆ®¿¡¼ ¹Ù±×³ÊÀÇ ÀÛǰµéÀ» º¸Áö ¾Ê¾Ò´Ù¸é
ÆÇ´ÜÇÒ ¼ö ¾ø´Ù°í. ¾îµÒ ¼Ó¿¡¼, ±×°÷Àº ¹«´ë ¹Ø¿¡ ³õ¿© ÀÖ¾î¼ À½¾ÇÀÌ º¸ÀÌÁö ¾ÊÀ¸¸ç, ¹«´ë ¾Æ·¡¿¡ ¹èÄ¡µÇ¸ç, °ø¿¬Àº ÃÖ°íÀÇ ¿Ïº®µµ·Î
Á¦½ÃµÈ´Ù´Â °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ±×·¯³ª À̰ÍÀÌ Á¤È®È÷ Áõ¸íÇÏ´Â °ÍÀº ±×°ÍÀÌ ¿¹¼úÀÌ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó ÃÖ¸éÀÇ ¹®Á¦¶ó´Â °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ½É·ÉÁÖÀÇÀڵ鵵 µ¿ÀÏÇÑ °ÍÀ» ¸»ÇÑ´Ù.
»ç¶÷µé¿¡°Ô ±×µéÀÇ È¯¿µµéÀÌ ÁøÂ¥ÀÎ °ÍÀ¸·Î ÀνĽÃ۱â À§Çؼ, ±×µéÀÌ ÈçÈ÷ ¸»ÇÏ´Â °ÍÀº ´ç½ÅÀº ÆÇ´ÜÇÒ ¼ö ¾ø´Ù, ´ç½ÅÀÌ ±×°ÍÀ» °æÇèÇØ º¸¾Æ¾ß
ÇÑ´Ù
— Áï, ¹ÝÂë ¹ÌÄ£ »ç¶÷µé°ú ÇÔ²²ÇÏ´Â ´ë¿¿¡ Á¶¿ëÈ÷ ¾É¾Æ¼ ¸î ½Ã°£À» º¸³»¶ó, ±×¸®°í À̰ÍÀ» ¾à ¿ ¹øÀ̳ª ¹Ýº¹ÇØ º¸¶ó — ±×·¯¸é ¿ì¸®°¡
º¸´Â ¸ðµç °ÍÀ» º¸°Ô µÇ¸®¶ó. |
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How could one not see it? Only put yourself in such conditions, and you will see whatever you like. This can be achieved in a still quicker way by drinking wine or smoking opium. It is the same when listening to Wagner¡¯s operas. Try sitting in the dark for four days in the company of not quite normal people, subjecting your brain to the strongest influence of sounds calculated to excite the brain by strongly affecting the nerves of hearing, and you are certain to arrive at an abnormal state and come to admire the absurdity. That does not even take four days; the five hours of a single day¡¯s performance, as in Moscow, are enough. Not five hours, but even one hour is enough for people who have no clear idea of what art ought to be, and who have formed the opinion for themselves beforehand that what they are going to see is wonderful and that indifference to or dissatisfaction with this work will be proof of their ignorance and backwardness. |
¾îÂî ±×°ÍÀ» º¼ ¼ö ¾ø°Ú´Â°¡? ¿ÀÁ÷ ´ç½ÅÀÌ ±×·¯ÇÑ »óȲµé¿¡
óÇÑ´Ù¸é, ´ç½ÅÀÌ ¿øÇÏ´Â °ÍÀº ¹«¾ùÀÌµç º¼ °ÍÀÌ´Ù. À̰ÍÀº ¼úÀ» ¸¶½Ã°Å³ª ¾ÆÆíÀ» ÈíÀÔÇÑ´Ù¸é ÈξÀ ´õ ºü¸¥ ¹æ¹ýÀ¸·Î ¼ºÃëµÉ ¼ö ÀÖ´Ù. ¹Ù±×³ÊÀÇ
¿ÀÆä¶óµéÀ» ûÃëÇÒ ¶§¿¡ µ¿ÀÏÇÏ´Ù. ±×¸® Á¤»óÀÌ ¾Æ´Ñ »ç¶÷µé°ú ÇÔ²² ³ªÈê µ¿¾È ¾îµÒ¿¡ ¾É¾Æ ÀÖµµ·Ï ¾Ö½á º¸¶ó, ´ç½ÅÀÇ µÎ³ú¸¦ û°¢ ½Å°æµé¿¡
°·ÄÇÏ°Ô ¿µÇâÀ» ÁÜÀ¸·Î½á µÎ³ú¸¦ ÀÚ±ØÇϰíÀÚ °è»êµÈ °¡Àå °·ÂÇÑ ¼Ò¸®µéÀÇ ¿µÇâ¿¡ ³» ¸Ã°Ü º¸¶ó, ±×·¯¸é ´ç½ÅÀº Ʋ¸²¾øÀÌ ºñÁ¤»óÀû »óÅ¿¡ µµ´ÞÇÒ
°ÍÀÌ°í ±×·± Ȳ´ç¹«°è¸¦ Âù¾çÇÏ°Ô µÉ °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ±×·¸°Ô ÇÑ´Ù¸é ä ³ªÈêµµ °É¸®Áö ¾Ê´Â´Ù; ¸ð½ºÅ©¹Ù¿Í °°ÀÌ ´Ü ÇÏ·ç °ø¿¬ÀÎ ´Ù¼¸ ½Ã°£À̸é
ÃæºÐÇÏ´Ù. ´Ù¼¸ ½Ã°£ÀºÄ¿³ç, ¿¹¼úÀÌ ¹«¾ùÀ̾î¾ß ÇÏ´ÂÁö ¾Æ¹«·± °³³äÀÌ ¾ø´Â, ±×¸®°í ±×µéÀÌ º¸°Ô µÉ °ÍÀÌ ³î¶ó¿î °ÍÀ̶ó°í, ±×¸®°í ÀÌ ÀÛǰ¿¡
´ëÇÑ ¹«°ü½É ȤÀº ºÒ¸¸ÀÌ ±×µéÀÇ ¹«Áö ¹× ÈÄÁø¼ºÀÇ Áõ°Å¶ó°í ÇÏ´Â »ý°¢À» ±»Èù »ç¶÷µéÀº ÇÑ ½Ã°£À̸é ÃæºÐÇÏ´Ù. |
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I watched the audience at the performance I attended. The people who guided the whole audience and set the tone for them were people who had already been hypnotized and had fallen once again into the familiar hypnosis. These hypnotized people, being in an abnormal state, were completely enraptured. Besides, all the art critics, who lack the capacity for being infected by art, and therefore especially appreciate works like Wagner¡¯s operas in which every¡©thing is a cerebral matter, with an air of great profundity also approved this work, which gives abundant food for philosophizing. And these two groups of people were followed by the big city mob, indifferent to art, their capacity for being infected by it perverted and partly atrophied, with princes, rich men and Maecenases at their head, who, like bad hounds, always join those who express the loudest and most resolute opinion. |
³ª´Â ³»°¡ Âü¼®ÇÑ °ø¿¬¿¡¼ ûÁßµéÀ» ÁöÄÑ º¸¾Ò´Ù. Àüü ûÁßµéÀ»
ÀεµÇß°í ±×µéÀ» À§ÇÑ ºÐÀ§±â¸¦ ¼³Á¤ÇÑ »ç¶÷µéÀº ÀÌ¹Ì ÃÖ¸éÀÌ µÇ¾ú°Å³ª ´Ù½Ã Çѹø Ä£¼÷ÇÑ Ãָ鿡 ºüÁ®µç »ç¶÷µéÀ̾ú´Ù. ÀÌ ÃÖ¸éµÈ »ç¶÷µéÀº,
ºñÁ¤»óÀûÀÎ »óÅ¿¡ µé¾î ¼¸é¼, ¿ÏÀüÈ÷ ȲȦ°æ¿¡ ºüÁ³´Ù. °Ô´Ù°¡, ¸ðµç ¿¹¼ú ºñÆò°¡µéÀº, ±×µéÀº ¿¹¼ú¿¡ ÀÇÇØ Àü¿°µÉ ´É·ÂÀÌ °á¿©µÇ¾úÀ¸¹Ç·Î,
¸ðµç °ÍÀÌ Áö¼ºÀÇ ¹®Á¦ÀÎ ¹Ù±×³ÊÀÇ ¿ÀÆä¶ó °°Àº ÀÛǰµéÀ», ¶ÇÇÑ ÀÌ ÀÛǰÀ» ½ÂÀÎÇÑ ´ë´ÜÈ÷ ½É¿ÀÇÑ Åµµ·Î, Ưº°È÷ È£ÀÇ·Î °¨»óÇÑ´Ù, ±×¸®°í
±×°ÍÀº öÇÐÀ» À§ÇÑ Ç³ºÎÇÑ ¸ÔÀ̸¦ Á¦°øÇÑ´Ù. ±×¸®°í ÀÌ µÎ ºÎ·ùÀÇ »ç¶÷µéÀ», ±ºÁÖµé, ºÎÀ¯ÇÑ ÀÚµé ¹× ¸¶ÀÌÄɳª½º(¿¹¼úÀÇ ÈÄ¿øÀÚ)µéÀ» ÇʵηÎ,
¿¹¼ú¿¡ ¹«°ü½ÉÇÑ °Å´ëÇÑ µµ½Ã ±ºÁßµéÀÌ µÚ¸¦ µû¸£¸ç, ¿¹¼ú¿¡ ÀÇÇØ Àü¿°µÉ ±×µéÀÇ ´É·ÂÀº ¿Ö°îµÇ°í ºÎºÐÀûÀ¸·Î ÅðȵǸç, ±×µéÀº, »ç¾ÇÇÑ
»ç³É°³µéó·³, ¾ðÁ¦³ª °¡Àå ½Ã²ô·´°í °¡Àå ±»°ÇÇÑ ÀǰßÀ» Ç¥ÇöÇÏ´Â »ç¶÷µé°ú ÇÔ²²ÇÑ´Ù. |
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¡®Oh, yes, of course, what poetry! Remarkable! The birds especially!¡¯ ¡®Yes, yes, I¡¯m quite won over!¡¯ These people repeat, each in his own way, the same thing they have just heard from those whose opinion seems trustworthy to them. |
'¿À ±×·¸¼Ò, ¹°·Ð, ´ë´ÜÇÑ ½Ã¿ä! ³î¶ø¼Ò! ƯÈ÷ »õµéÀÌ!'
'±×·¸¼Ò, ±×·¸¼Ò, ³ª´Â Á¤¸» °¨µ¿Çß¼Ò!' ÀÌ »ç¶÷µéÀº, Àú¸¶´ÙÀÇ ¹æ½ÄÀ¸·Î, ±×µé¿¡°Ô ¹ÏÀ» ¸¸ÇÏ´Ù°í º¸ÀÌ´Â »ç¶÷µéÀÇ ÀǰßÀ¸·ÎºÎÅÍ ±Ý¹æ µéÀ»
°Í°ú µ¿ÀÏÇÑ °ÍÀ» µÇÇ®ÀÌ ÇÑ´Ù. |
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Even if there are people who are insulted by the senselessness and falseness, they keep timidly silent, as sober people keep timidly silent among the drunk. |
½ÉÁö¾î ¹«½ÄÇÔ°ú ÇãÀ§·Î ÀÎÇØ ¸ð¿åÀ» ´çÇÑ »ç¶÷µéÀÌ ÀÖ´õ¶óµµ, ¸Ç
Á¤½ÅÀÎ »ç¶÷ÀÌ ¼ú ÃëÇÑ »ç¶÷µé »çÀÌ¿¡¼ ¸» ¾øÀÌ ÀÖ´Â °Íó·³ ±×µéÀº °ÌÀ» ¸Ô°í ħ¹¬À» ÁöŲ´Ù. |
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And so, owing to its masterful counterfeiting of art, a senseless, crude, false work, which has nothing to do with art, goes around the world, its production costing millions, and perverts more and more the tastes of upper-class people and their notion of what art is. |
±×¸®°í ±×¸®ÇÏ¿©, ÀÌó·³ ´É¼÷ÇÑ ¿¹¼úÀÇ ¸ðÁ¶ÀÛ¾÷¿¡ ÀÇÇØ¼,
¹«½ÄÇϸç, õ¹ÚÇϰí, ÇãÀ§ÀÎ ÀÛǰÀÌ, ¿¹¼ú°ú ¾Æ¹«·± °ü·ÃÀÌ ¾øÀ½¿¡µµ, Á¦ÀÛÀ» À§ÇØ ¾öû³ µ·À» µéÀ̰í¼, ¼¼»óÀ» µ¹¾Æ ´Ù´Ï°í, »ó·ù °è±Þ
»ç¶÷µéÀÇ ÃëÇ⠱׸®°í ¿¹¼úÀÌ ¹«¾ùÀΰ¡¿¡ ´ëÇÑ ±×µéÀÇ °³³äÀ» ¿Ö°î½Ã۰í ÀÖ´Ù. |
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[Home]
[Up]
[Contents]
[Preface]
[Bibliographical Note]
[A Note on the Text]
[WHAT IS ART?]
I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
IX
X
XI
XII
XIII
XIV
XV
XVI
XVII
XVIII
XIX
XX
[CONCLUSION]
[Appendix I]
[Appendix II]
[Notes]
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