King Ludwig I of Bavaria Abdicates ~ 1848

Just after I started working for Customs, Ross and I took our previously planned holiday to Germany. He had studied in Munich, and still had several good friends in the area. We were there for Oktoberfest, which –as you undoubtedly already know— is celebrated in September. That was one of the few times in my life that I have drunk beer, and half enjoyed it. Of course, Bavarian dark beer is very different from standard American varieties.

The plan was to visit all of King Ludwig II’s castles – and we nearly did. We saw Hohenschwangau, where Ludwig had spent part of his childhood, at the base of Neuschwanstein, his paean to Ricard Wagner (as well as the model for several Disney castles) and the site of Ludwig’s arrest;

[Years ago, I used to eat Sunday brunch at Café Mozart on Bush Street between services at Grace Cathedral. The owner was a Viennese named Claus. One Christmas, he made a large gingerbread castle in the shape of a familiar landmark. “Oh Claus!” I said “ What a wonderful gingerbread model of Neuschweinstein.” “Neu- SCHWEIN- stein?!!!! Don’t you know the difference between a schwein and a schwan?!!!!” Now, I do.]

Linderhof, with it’s grotto and elevated dining table; and Herrenchiemsee with its copy of the Hall of Mirrors, and two (mind you two—though only one was actually completed) Ambassadors Staircases from Versailles, where the original had been replaced. We also saw the room where Ludwig had been born at Nymphenburg, the lake where he had drowned, and the church in Munich, where he is still buried.

In June 2008 the San Francisco Opera premiered a new production of Das Rheingold, the first installment of an an American Western Ring cycle. The complete cycle will premiere summer 2011.

Did you know that there may have been a California connection to the first production of Wagner’s Ring Trilogy. (Even though it is four music dramas, it’s considered a trilogy….with a prologue) The connection was Lola Montez, a Spanish dancer, who had had an extended affair with Ludwig II’s grandfather, Ludwig I. In reality, her name was Eliza Gilbert, and she was actually Irish. But she did have an affair with that architecturally crazed monarch. Unlike his grandson, his taste favored neo-classical revival, rather than medieval and baroque. Ross and I visited his large Bavarian maiden— on the edge of the Oktoberfest grounds— which seemed to be a forerunner of the Statue of Liberty.

Ludwig the First was so enamored of Lola Montez, that he virtually turned over the state authority to her. For nearly two years, Lola was de facto ruler of Bavaria. "What Lola wants, Lola gets" was originally in reference to her. When Revolution broke out all over Europe in 1848, the people of Bavaria's main grievance against their King, was his affair with Lola. Forced to abdicate, Ludwig left the throne to his son Maximilian II. But then Max died in 1864, leaving the throne to Ludwig I's grandson, Ludwig II.

The Wagner connection is this:

Once on the throne, nineteen year old Ludwig II responded to Wagner's published plea for help from a German prince. Richard Wagner had been exiled in Switzerland, both for his 1848 political, and recurring financial, indiscretions. Ludwig paid off Wagner's creditors, welcomed him to Bavaria, and financed productions of Die Meistersinger, Tristan und Isolde, and the completion of the Ring des Nibelungen.

So what's the Lola Montez connection? Had it not been for Lola, Ludwig I, no doubt, would have remained on the throne of Bavaria. He lived until 1868— a good twenty years after his abdication. Lola Montez, meanwhile, ended up in Grass Valley, California during the Gold Rush. She died of syphilis, which Ludwig had given her along with jewels and bad poetry. Had there been no Lola Montez, Tristan and Meistersinger might not have been produced at all, and certainly not before 1868 at the earliest. The problem, of course, is when you change one fact in history, you may very well jeopardize multiple subsequent facts. But the fact remains, Ludwig II was Wagner's principal sponsor, and had it not been for him, the general operatic public would very likely never have heard of Brunnhilde.

Painting:Joseph Karl Stieler (1781-1858):wikipedia.com

LOLA MONTES

rialtopictures.com

This afternoon I went to the matinee at the Castro Theatre to see the restored film Lola Montes (French spelling). If you read my first blog postings back in September you would know that I have had a particular interest in Lola Montez, especially her California connection.

Max Ophüls’ 1955 “Lola Montès” was a box office flop, butchered by its producers, then restored as much as possible by producer Pierre Braunberger in 1968. And, now, 40 years later, his daughter Laurence has overseen a superb state-of-the-art restoration. Ophüls’ last film and first in color is the most baroque of his sumptuous period pictures – and to many critics, his greatest.

It is framed by a fictional device, an elaborate circus, in which a dying Lola (Martine Carol) participates in a series of tableaux dramatizing her scandalous career as an internationally popular Spanish dancer with a notorious private life. Montèz was actually born Eliza Gilbert in 1821 in Ireland, the daughter of a British soldier who died of cholera in India, leaving his daughter at the mercy of her cold, calculating mother. Headstrong and disillusioned, Eliza, admiring the freedom and passion of Spanish dances, takes to the stage as Lola Montèz.

If Lola was known more for her affairs than her dancing ability, Carol was known more for her glamour than her acting talent. The producers thrust Carol on Ophüls, but he turns Carol’s clear striving to do her best into an expression of Lola’s determination to live life as she pleases while underneath actually longing for love and security. With typical boldness, she lands it at last as the mistress of King Ludwig I of Bavaria (a dashing Anton Walbrook), but her notoriety threatens a revolution.

As the circus ringmaster, Peter Ustinov is the ultimate showman, stylish and ruthless, literally cracking a whip, wresting the last centime out of the fading Lola, but his remark that “she gave her body but kept her soul” reverberates through the film. By the end, she’s attained the transcendent spiritual dignity of Mizoguchi’s Oharu.

The film doesn’t deal with Lola’s American adventures, which included a two-year stay in a Grass Valley cottage, where she dreamed of being crowned queen of California but more constructively guided the young Lotta Crabtree into becoming one of the country’s most beloved entertainers. Lola turned to religion and died poor in New York at the age of 42 – Martine Carol herself died at 46.     Kevin Thomas  Los Angeles Times 10/08/08.

Peter Ustinov (with whom I share a birthday) is superb as the circus ringmaster in the opening and closing scenes reminiscent of the recent Rock Musical Moulin Rouge (or should I say the influence came from the other direction). A young Oskar Werner (later the doctor in the thoughtful film Ship of Fools and the hero in Fahrenheit 451) plays a Bavarian student who rescues Lola from the mob at the time of the 1848 Revolution.  

One of my few disappointments with the film plot is that it severely truncates Lola’s time and influence with Ludwig I in Bavaria. It seemed as if she had been there only a few weeks or months at most, when in fact she virtually ruled Bavaria for several years. (Refer to my Blog posting “California’s Connection to Wagner’s Ring Des Nibelungen” 09/07/08.) This leads to my other frustration, that there was no mention of Lola’s two years in Grass Valley, California during the Gold Rush. Her tragic comedown is made abundantly apparent, however, with her depicted humiliation in the circus.

Lola is somewhat effectively portrayed by Martine Carol, Franz Liszt by Will Quadflieg and King Ludwig I by Anton Walbrook. The sets –frequently surreal— are ravishing, and there were several nice touches, including a fleeting but accurate view of a model of Ludwig’s Bavarian Maiden in his first scene with Lola in the royal library. One possible anachronism was Lola’s portrait being painted while sitting in a sleigh. I’m certain that sleigh was made for Ludwig’s grandson, Ludwig II, a few decades later.  

The scene before, leading to the portrait's painting was utterly charming. King Ludwig wanted to find a painter for Lola’s portrait and interviewed a number of artists in the palace studio. As he examined the various paintings, his repeated question was: “How long did it take you to complete what you’ve already done?” He ended up choosing a rather inferior painter, who had taken the longest time. Clearly he just wanted Lola to remain in Munich.