The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Saying from the soul calendar (22nd) by Rudolf Steiner
Saying from the soul calendar (23rd) by Rudolf Steiner
“The Element of Life“ by Friedrich Hebbel
Saying from the soul calendar (24th) by Rudolf Steiner
“Little Dance” by J. $. Bach (children's group with eurythmists)
Saying from the soul calendar (25.) by Rudolf Steiner
“Sommerbild“ by Friedrich Hebbel
Saying from the soul calendar (26.) by Rudolf Steiner
“Scherzo” by Hendrika Hollenbach
Cosmic prelude with music by Leopold van der Pals
“V. Urtrieb“ by Fercher von Steinwand
“VI. Urtrieb” by Fercher von Steinwand
“Soldatenliedchen“ (children's group)
From the ‘Vormittags-Skizzenbuch’ by Christian Morgenstern
“Ein Rätsel” by Rudolf Steiner
“Schwalben” by Christian Morgenstern
“Two Roots“ by Christian Morgenstern
Satirical prelude with music by Leopold van der Pals
“Northward” and “West-East” by Christian Morgenstern
Prelude with music by Leopold van der Pals
The “Magpie” series by Christian Morgenstern

Dear attendees,

As on previous occasions before these eurythmy exercises, I would like to take the liberty of saying a few words in advance today. This is not done with the intention of somehow explaining artistic performances, that would be inartistic - art must speak for itself - but it is done because what is presented here as the eurythmic art is based on certain sources for artistic creation that have not been used in the same way before, and also on a certain formal language that has not been used in art in this way either. The basis of this eurythmy is a kind of visible language, but not a sign language or anything mimetic - anything gestural or mimetic must be avoided here.

Rather, you will see [this language] expressed through the individual human being moving in his limbs – or through the movement of the human being in space or also through the movement of the mutual positions of groups. So you will see movements that are visible linguistic expression in the same way that expression is ordinary language in an audible way. So eurythmy is based on emotional life expressed in a visible language.

What the artist then seeks to shape is, of course, something that is first built on this special language. This special language has not come about in some arbitrary way, through the fixation of this or that movement for the individual sound, for the individual word or for some sentence or some rhythm, or from some other context. Rather, the basis for the eurythmic art has come about through careful study, but on the basis of what Goethe calls sensuous-suprasensuous vision.

Our speech organs – the larynx and the other speech organs – are in constant motion. Everyone knows that they are in motion when we speak, because the sound is simply conveyed through the air by the air being vibrated by the movement of the speech organs. But it is not this movement that is important here, but rather the tendency to move, which in turn underlies this vibratory movement. And this tendency of movement, which can be studied for every sound, for every inflection, and also for that which underlies the expression of speech in the soul, has all been studied and is transmitted from a single organ or a group of organs, such as the larynx and its neighboring organs, to the movements of the whole person.

This is done entirely out of Goethe's world view. Goethe sees the whole plant only as a complicated expression of a single organ, the leaf. This is an expression of Goethe's important theory of metamorphosis, which has not been sufficiently appreciated scientifically by a long way. Just as Goethe's morphology of form thus sees the whole plant as a complicated, developed leaf, so we try, as it were, to place the whole human being on the stage like a modified, moving larynx. And then, in the artistic realm, what has been begun is further transformed. The artistic aspect only really begins when what has been gained through the study of the secrets of human speech is shaped.

Of course, from today's point of view, it is very easy to say: Yes, what movements are performed, that cannot be understood. My dear audience, a new-born child does not understand language either. Language must first be listened to. And for eurythmy this is not as easy as it is for speech. When a person simply abandons themselves to the form of movement on which the art of eurythmy is based, they have an instinctive, intuitive knowledge of it. Every human being has the potential to understand human language; but it must be clear, for example, that poetry first emerges from ordinary spoken language by formally transforming and developing this spoken language in terms of rhythm, rhyme, alliteration and so on. So what can be learned eurythmically as a basic formal language must first be artistically developed. Those of the honored audience who have been here often will notice how we have progressed in recent months in terms of the artistic development of eurythmy. You may have seen how much at that time still recalled facial expressions, ordinary gestures, but how we worked our way out of that, so that little by little there is actually nothing left in what is done in eurythmy but what the poet makes out of the linguistic content. And the further we get at shaping what the poet first makes out of the linguistic content, the more the eurythmic art will develop. The artistic element in eurythmy is to the movement of speech, to visible speech, as poetic language is to language.

The task now is to present a self-contained work of art through the inner laws of eurythmy, just as one creates a musical work of art through the succession of tones or the poetic art through the artistic design of the vocabulary of language. They will become a completely independent art because that is still necessary today, until eurythmy has achieved a certain emancipation, being a completely independent art. However, this may take a very long time, perhaps decades. Today you will still see musical elements presented in parallel, where some soul element is revealed through the sound, through the musical art – and at the same time the same soul element through the eurythmic art – or mainly poetic elements. And here it must be taken into account that when the eurythmic is accompanied by recitation, the recitation itself is forced to return to the earlier, more artistic forms of recitation, which have been more or less lost in our thoroughly unartistic times.

Today, something special can be seen in such recitation, which essentially goes back to the prose of the poem's content and actually takes back what the poet has made from the material of the poem. That is why the poet creates something out of language in rhyme, rhythm, beat and so on. When reciting, this does not have to be taken back by reciting according to the content of prose, according to the pure logic that underlies it. This is considered a sincere, soulful recitation. However, it has become an unartistic recitation. We are therefore trying to shape the art of recitation in a eurythmic way again, namely to give what is already eurythmic in poetic language in recitation as well, to bring out the rhythmic, the pictorial, imaginative, the rhyme and so on. It is precisely in such things that eurythmy, in the wake of which such views must arise, can in turn have a fruitful effect on other artistic endeavors. And that will be of very special importance in our time.

It is already the case, as I have said, that eurythmy is in the early stages of its development. We ourselves are most aware of the mistakes we still make today; but it will perfect itself. Today it must be said that this eurythmic art has, firstly, the artistic on the one hand; on the other hand, however, it has an essentially pedagogical-didactic and hygienic element in it. And in the Waldorf School in Stuttgart, we have introduced eurythmy as a compulsory subject.

One day, when people think about these things more objectively than they do today, they will see that when children are taught eurythmics, they actually add something to ordinary gymnastics that can be called soulful gymnastics, because every movement also comes from the soul. In this way, what is merely physiological gymnastics - that is, something derived only from the physical laws of the human body - is enriched by movements that come from the soul. This has a very strong influence on the whole development of the growing human being. While ordinary gymnastics actually only trains the body, eurythmy - you will also see some examples of children's eurythmy today - has an effect on the child and its development that awakens and appropriately fosters willpower, the soul's initiative. And this is of the greatest possible importance for our time, for the present and the near future, since our age has brought about catastrophic events precisely because people lack awakened souls.

So then, eurythmy has various sides to it: an artistic side, a pedagogical-didactic side. But all this is actually only just beginning today. Hopefully it will be further developed, probably by others, no longer by us. For the one who can really see through the world form language of eurythmy knows what still needs to be done. Then it will be seen that it can stand alongside its older sister arts as a fully justified art. In this sense of a beginning, perhaps also of an attempt at a beginning, I ask you to take up such ideas from the eurythmic art as we want to present to you again today.

Saying from the Calendar of the Soul (24) by Rudolf Steiner
Saying from the Calendar of the Soul (25) by Rudolf Steiner
“Prooemion“ by J. W. v. Goethe
“l. Urtrieb” by Fercher von Steinwand
“Parabasc” by J. W. v. Goethe
“II. Urtrieb“ by Fercher von Steinwand
“Epirrhema” by J. W. v. Goethe
“III. Urtrieb“ by Fercher von Steinwand
“Antepirrhema” by J. W. v. Goethe
“]V. Urtrieb” by Fercher von Steinwand
“The Treasure-Digger” by J. W. v. Goethe
Evoe with music by Max Schuurman
A cheerful prelude with music by Leopold van der Pals
Humoresques by Christian Morgenstern: ‘The Lamb Cloud’; ‘The Stations’; ‘The Salm’ with music by Jan Stuten

Dear attendees! We are taking the liberty of showing you another sample of the eurythmic art today. This art is based on certain artistic sources that are to be newly opened and aims to become a kind of new artistic formal language. For this reason, you will allow me, as I usually do before these performances, to send a few words in advance today - not to explain the performance, but rather, artistic things must work through themselves in the immediate impression, but to suggest the formal language and sources from which what is presented to you here as the eurythmic art comes.

The basis of the art of eurythmy is a kind of visible language. The whole human being performs movements in his gestures, or: he performs movements in space or groups of people perform movements in space. All this could be understood as an ordinary, even representational, ordinary art of dance, but it is neither of these, but is based on a careful study of the ordinary language of the human being. This is what is perceived by the human ear. But at its basis lies a certain tendency of the larynx and other speech organs to move. These tendencies of movement are to be understood as what is communicated as a vibrating weaving of the air: It is not something more highly developed than thought, but something more deeply rooted, something that takes place in a seemingly simpler way than the vibrations of the air, but which is expressed through the vibrations of the air when the tone that underlies this movement tendency expresses itself.

We can study what the larynx and speech organs do when a sound is produced, how they behave in a whole word, in a sentence transition, how they behave when certain sound sequences play out, and so on. All this can be studied – allow me to use this Goethean expression – through sensory-supersensory observation. Then, what is otherwise only assessed – that is why I said: movement tendencies – what is otherwise only assessed in the larynx and the other speech organs, is transformed into small vibrations as it develops, and then transferred. And then what language describes, what the human being performs in his movements or in movements in space, or what groups of people perform, that means what can be experienced, can be experienced on the one hand through language, and on the other hand through the visible language of eurythmy. One can express through this eurythmy what musical creation is – you will also see rehearsals today – one can also express what poetic creation is.

But when the recitation, that is, the artistic reproduction of the poetic, accompanies the eurythmy, then, for example, the recitation must take up the eurythmic element. Today, our age is somewhat inartistic, and one does not have the feeling that the real artistry of a poem only begins when the prose-like, the mere content, the literal content of a poem has been overcome. It is never about what the poet says, but how he says it, how he shapes it in meter and rhythm or how he artistically shapes it and is able to give shape to the image through the word. In the case of a poet like Goethe, for example, we can see how his poetic language has a plastic character, how he imaginatively conceived the transformation of the pictorial. In the case of Schiller, we know that before he wrote any poem, he had a kind of melody living in his soul. At first, it was all the same to him what should arise from this melody as a poem – “The Diver” or “The Fight with the Dragon”: He had it living in his soul as a melody, and the other simply lined up in the poem. That is how you can shape with the melodic, with the plastic poem.

All of this comes to light in a proper recitation. In our unartistic age, what is usually brought out is what is appropriate to the prose content, what is literal. What the poet has artistically done with the content is what is actually formally artistic in the recitation. And then what is offered in the poetry also coincides with what is offered in the visible language of eurythmy and in the recitation. You know how to shape this or that sound, this or that word formation and the like, so that something artistic comes about from the whole, and in particular, that the artistic element of the eurythmic performance is properly formed in parallel with the poetry, the artistic formation of a poem. That is a purely artistic activity. And we must distinguish between the elementary nature of the eurythmic language of form and what is artistically revealed in the process. But it is not the case that eurythmy is pantomime, mimicry or mere gesticulation or dance. Rather, everything is such that actually everything lies in the artistic sequence of movement forms, so that the melodious and musical lies in the sequence, in the interaction of the sounds. Likewise, an inner lawfulness in space and in the time of the eurythmy production underlies this.

Those of you who have been here before will have noticed how, over the past few months, we have been working to develop this element of artistic form-giving more and more in eurythmy, and how we are getting closer to capturing in artfully designed forms what the poet has made of the literal content. In this way one can adapt exactly to the humor or tragedy or ballad-like language or whatever characterizes a poem.

So this eurythmy initially offers something artistic. The human being is the instrument for their eurythmic performances. In the most eminent sense, this eurythmy achieves precisely what Goethe had in mind when he said: When man is placed at the summit of nature, he sees himself again as a whole nature, which in turn has to produce a summit. To achieve this, he elevates himself by permeating himself with all perfection and virtue, invoking number, order, harmony and meaning, and finally rising to the production of the work of art. We should bear in mind that the visible and invisible worlds converge in his being, that all the forces at work in the visible and invisible are reflected in him in some way, are formed in him in miniature. And when the human being makes himself an instrument of artistic expression through his organism, what is particularly expressed is what then strives in the human being's soul towards movement. Eurythmy is an art that, when it arises directly and immediately, truly works out of the movements of the human being.

That is the artistic side of eurythmy. On the other hand, there is something about eurythmy that – quite apart from many other things – can be addressed as a therapeutic-hygienic element, but which I do not want to talk about now. But another element of eurythmy is the pedagogical-didactic element that it contains. At our Freie Waldorfschule in Stuttgart, which was founded by Emil Molt and is run by myself, we have introduced eurythmy as a compulsory subject alongside gymnastics.

One will only appreciate eurythmy as a compulsory subject once one has overcome certain prejudices – which, from my point of view, I do not want to fight so much – regarding gymnastics. Gymnastics is purely physical. One may have one's own opinion about the movements that the physiologist derives from the physical make-up of the human being. I do not want to dispute them here, but it is nevertheless the case that ordinary gymnastics only has a physiological meaning for the harmonization of the physical body of man. Although I do not want to go as far as a naturalist who listened to my introductory words in this regard and who said: He would not even appreciate gymnastics as much as I do. He would not consider it to be something physiologically effective, but simply a barbarism. But the present, dear honored attendees, will object to that, especially if one has to evoke some hostility because of the other branches of one's activity, one would not want to go straight to such sentiments.

But this is what must be particularly emphasized, regardless of whether gymnastics merely trains the human body physiologically or whether it is also a barbarism: the powers of the soul, the initiative of the will, are in any case – and I emphasize this particularly – is trained in children through eurythmy, when the child, through this compulsory subject, becomes so immersed in these eurythmic movements, when they are performed in the right way, as a young child would otherwise naturally become immersed in spoken language. Eurythmy awakens activity in the human soul, so that the drowsiness in which the souls find themselves can be overcome. Otherwise it would get more and more out of hand in the most terrible way. If you imagine, let us say, the next generation, you have to admit that you can only get beyond these things by at least adding this soul-filled gymnastics to the usual external soulless gymnastics, in eurythmy.

Everything in eurythmy is still in its infancy, but you can be quite sure that we are our own harshest critics. We know what we lack and we are constantly striving to make more and more progress in this respect. I have often mentioned that we have made good progress, for example, in shaping the large forms. We will show you these large forms today in a Fercher poem, “Choir of Primordial Instincts”, which is being performed today and which really moves in a strange cosmic directing force, in that it - Fercher von Steinwand - poetically shapes you. When you see this 'Urtrieb' choir, you will perhaps notice how we have tried and are still trying to make good progress again and again. Over time, the art of eurythmy will be perfected more and more, either by ourselves or probably by others, so that it can establish itself as a fully-fledged newer art alongside the older fully-fledged arts.

It would have been nice if we could have opened our art room earlier and brought today closer to the anniversary of Ludwig Uhland's death on November 13. Since this was not possible, today at least we want to recall his life with some sounds that came to us from the great poet Ludwig Uhland. If one wanted to describe what is essential for his poetry, one could characterize Ludwig Uhland with a single word. One need only say: Uhland is one of those poets who are thoroughly healthy in every respect. Healthy in his feelings, in his thinking, healthy in his head and heart, that was Ludwig Uhland. And if you want to get to know him, if you want to feel your way into what inspired him to write poetry, you can see that there were two things that constantly filled his heart insofar as he was a poet. The first was a deep, emotional love of nature. However uplifting it might be for him to look at works of art that perhaps proclaimed the beauties of ancient times, he preferred to admire the great art of the forces of nature. And so it is spoken from the bottom of his heart when he says, as if in a creed in a poem:

Not in cold marble stones,
Not in temples dull and dead,
In the fresh oak groves
Weaves and rustles the German God.

And this was not just an artistic sentiment for him, but from his boyhood on, this feeling of being at one with nature was something that took hold of his entire being. He could say of himself:

There was no better pleasure in those days
than to penetrate the forest
where the thrush sings and the hawk cries,
where deer and roe deer leap.

Then his heart opened up to nature, and he felt the warmth in his soul, which is expressed in his strong, healthy poetic sounds.

The other thing was his preference for the times in European life when the great events of the people were told in legends, not just experienced in an external way. Today's man can no longer really understand these times of the Middle Ages. One must try to revive a little in oneself, before all observation, the soul that lived in people at that time, in order to feel what a person in Central Europe felt about the great deeds of world history, on which the weal and woe, the elevation and happiness and suffering of people depend. In those days, people did not learn history from schoolbooks; it was quite different from what it is today, when we sit down in school and the schoolboy begins to tremble when the teacher asks: When did Charlemagne reign? and he then says, sweating: Then he lived – and so on. It was not like that at all back then, but rather more like the way in which one is more likely to get an idea if one is still lucky enough to let the last remnants take effect on oneself, how people back then spoke to each other about such great people who were much involved in the weal and woe of history, as, say, about Charlemagne. And since personal experiences are always the most vivid, I would like to start with a little story that represents something like a last remnant of the way people in earlier centuries spoke of history.

When I was a boy, I knew an elderly man who was employed in a bookshop. He was from Salzburg. There is the Untersberg mountain there. And just as people say that Barbarossa is in the Kyffhäuser, they say that Charlemagne is still in the Untersberg. And that man once said to me: Yes, it's quite true, Charlemagne is sitting in our Uhntersberg. I said: How do you know that? He said: When I was a boy, I went to the Untersberg with a firm stick, and I found a hole. And since I was a bad rascal, I immediately let myself into this hole. I let my staff down and then let myself down. Right, I came down very deep. And there was a large palace-like cave, all lined with crystal. That's where Charlemagne and old Roland sit inside, and their beards have grown terribly long. – I don't want to encourage the boys present to do that; only a native of Salzburg can do that. Now I said, “Have you really seen Charlemagne and Roland, my dear Hanke?” He said, “No, but they are there!” You see, a piece of something that really existed in Central and Western Europe in the Middle Ages was still alive there. And when people sat around the stove in winter and the parents told the children about Charlemagne and his heroes, how did people tell the younger ones, for example, about the great Charles who once ruled over the Franks, and about his heroes, who included Roland, Olivier and so on?

If we could listen to such a story, as was common in those days, we would hear the following: Yes, Charlemagne was a wonderful person, blessed by Christ. He was completely imbued with the idea that he had to win Europe for Christianity. And just as Christ himself was surrounded by twelve apostles, so Charlemagne was surrounded by twelve people. He had his Roland, just as Christ had his Peter. And there were the heathens in Spain, against whom he marched, because he wanted to spread Christianity among them, with his twelve people.

At that time, the Bible was read less, but also treated more freely. The people told stories at the time of Charlemagne in such a way that the way they told them was reminiscent of biblical stories, because they did not look at what they knew from the Bible in such a rigid way, but took it as a model. And it became the case for medieval people that they talked about Charlemagne in a similar way to the way they talked about Christ.

Roland had a mighty sword, so it was said, and a mighty horn. He once received the sword Durendart from Christ himself when he felt very fervent as a champion of God. And with this sword, which he received from Christ, he, who was the nephew of Charlemagne, went to Spain. Now it was further told that Charlemagne not only did everything possible to ensure that Roland grew up to be an exceptionally capable and proven hero, but it was generally said of him that, with strength and perseverance, he became a champion of God to the greatest degree, as people rightly suspected.

When Charlemagne marched on Zaragoza, they wanted to try to convert the Moors to Christianity, and on the advice of Roland, an ally of Roland, Ganelon, was chosen to negotiate with the pagan population of Spain. Ganelon was spoken of as if he were the Judas among the twelve companions of Charlemagne. This Ganelon said: If Roland persuades Charlemagne to send me to the pagan population, they will persuade me to death. Ganelon negotiated with the enemies. They surrendered in pretence, so that Charlemagne withdrew, leaving only his faithful Roland behind. And when Charlemagne had left, the enemies approached Roland, and he saw himself surrounded by the whole horde of enemies, he, the strong hero, the champion of God.

Now there is a beautiful train that is always told, that should express something. They always told of the close relationship between Charlemagne and Roland. It was not so quiet for Charlemagne that he had left Roland behind. But then he heard Roland's call. From this, the saga has made that Roland blew into his horn Olifant. The name Olifant already suggests that Karl sensed it. And then the saga tells that Roland wanted to smash his sword on the rock; but it was so strong that it remained whole, only the sparks sprayed. Believing himself lost, he surrendered the sword to Christ.

This same Roland then lived on in the sagas with Charlemagne. And most of the sagas are such that one can see how people have adopted the poetically beautiful content of the Bible. You can see it in Roland's fight with the heathens. But this act, how Roland faces his enemies with his sword and horn and they surround him on all sides, how he wants to smash his sword on the rock and how he then dies for a cause that was told everywhere and found important, this is infinitely significant, as if predestined for poetry.

And the thoughts that have once sunk into the souls, we see them again, even where in the 12th century through the priest Konrad was inserted into the German language the death of Roland. And the connection of the human soul with the whole of nature, one could not imagine it differently at that time than when such a person dies, then everything possible also happens outside in nature. This scene was still being wonderfully depicted in the 12th century by the cleric Konrad.

He relies on his weak arm,
which he does not hold low,
which he extends up to
the Almighty Lord,
to whom he commands his soul:
with St. Michael,
St. Gabriel, St. Raphael,
he entrusts himself forever more.
When Ruolant from the world departs,
from heaven there comes a Michael light,
since after a while I was born in Pibble, the sun and the stars in the two empires of China and Spain. The winters were long there, they fell like the ancient trees; the people harvested their crops, they saw the fearful sky brighten, the sun shining, the rest; the heath was burning, she sank in the sun, in the water she drowned. The bright day
became dark as night.
The towers fell to the ground,
the beautiful palace was destroyed.
The stars scattered;
the weather grew worse:
they all wanted to prove
that the time had come
that the world should come to an end,
and God would have his judgment.

Thus they spoke of Roland's death. And at the same time we can form an idea of the changes in language since 1175. From this you will see how everything in the world changes and changes quickly. The language was richer and more intimate. Until the time of the Crusades, something like the saga of Charlemagne lived in almost every house in our regions, all the way down to Sicily and up to Hungary. It touched people's souls, and today we have no idea how these things were back then.

Ludwig Uhland was unique in this field, delving so deeply into things. And he not only expressed what he felt in many a beautiful poem, but there are also books in which he brings to life the ancient times of the German people. The fact that Uhland, on the one hand, had an infinite love for nature and, on the other, a warm heart for the lost sagas that have lived and that today only need to be artificially invoked, is something that one should actually know better than one knows it. And one can hope that even if some of the fashions in poetry that are around today can sometimes “inspire” hearts, a time may come again when one can gradually learn to create like Uhland. He loved communicating directly from soul to soul the most of all. And it actually dawned on me what Ludwig Uhland was able to be to young people, also in turn, when I was able to feel an echo in my own life.

I had learned most of all how to express thoughts in language, and to grasp thoughts that now introduced me to the spiritual life with my heart, by being allowed to participate with my late teacher Karl Julius Schröer in what he called “exercises in oral presentation and written expression”. He would listen to us and then say a few words in which he placed himself at the level at which we ourselves were. It was a very stimulating experience. Where did Schröer get that? Because he knew Uhland! It was a very lively collaboration with the young people. Uhland did it.

And so we may say: the 50th anniversary of the death of Ludwig Uhland, who died on November 13, 1862, may mean something in the hearts of people who are still receptive to genuine, healthy poetry and have feelings , may mean something, may mean that one must always return to those who, in connection, bring us together as people who live in the present, with all that humanity has experienced in earlier and ever earlier times.

Uhland's connection to earlier times was twofold. First, he himself still had much of the character and personality of strong, indomitable characters, who are becoming increasingly rare in the present day. One need only recall that in 1849 Uhland spoke the weighty words that he could not imagine a German empire without a drop of democratic oil having been poured into it. He stands there like a refreshing and, in its strength, self-reinforcing German oak. He also rejects, with all his striving and living, with his art in times when the intimate, far-reaching folk fantasy flourished and lived, which brings together the past and the present in a heartfelt way, the inheritance of the soul that humanity has from its predecessors with that which moves the present.

We do not always think about how small the time span is that separates us from something that is very different from us. Let us think, it is about 800 years that separate us from the time when people in Germany spoke and wrote as I have read to you. There are twenty-four generations in eight hundred years. If you imagine these generations reaching out to each other, you have the time when Pfaffe Konrad tried to write this touching scene into German hearts. And it was Uhland's particular concern to renew this, to allow some of it to be felt again.

So it is that we remember today, albeit a little late, the anniversary of the death of Ludwig Uhland, and on this day we remember the man who tried to capture so much of the beauty and grandeur of nature, of the beauty and grandeur of Central European prehistory, in his poetry. He deserves to be revived in the hearts of people who want to know about such healthy, genuine, true poetry, and they will always be there, as will some fashionable illnesses and fads that would like to separate souls from this poetry of the real and the true.

The order of the poems in the lecture is not known.

You will allow me to precede the recitation of poems by our most esteemed and beloved member Christian Morgenstern with a few words. On such an occasion, I would like to speak differently than I usually have to speak before you. Otherwise, when I speak, I feel obliged not to touch on personal matters and to let our spiritual-scientific worldview speak. This time, however, I may speak to you as I need to speak when I am not bound by such an obligation. I may speak to you very personally on such an occasion.

I would like to see the souls of our dear friends in a kind of festive adornment on such an occasion, because it seems to me that this is an occasion when we can and may feel something directly human about the value and truth of this our spiritual movement in a certain respect. But we can also know something of the value and truth of our spiritual movement through the fact that we give the reasons and the good evidence for this spiritual-scientific world view. But these are things that everyone must do for themselves, if we understand each other correctly, quite regardless of whether they agree with this or that point of view in our world view or not. But there are other proofs. There are proofs that can speak to our hearts. Let me say it plainly and simply: that this evidence of our worldview can exist quite well. But this plain speaking is meant very warmly. It is the word that gives our worldview some of its inner truth by saying: poets also come to us. And he will understand me best at this moment who, as deeply as it can be felt towards Christian Morgenstern, feels the word: Poets also come to us - especially with regard to the inner truth and the clarification of that which may be the core of our spiritual-scientific worldview.

There are experiences of the human heart that, as far as one looks around in all the worlds of the natural, human and divine, are only right when they are experienced at the side of the soul of the poet. And to feel this is to truly experience what the poet is to earthly life. And there are moments when the poet can give the human soul something everlasting.

As I said, I would like to speak only of a few symptomatic, very personal things, just because in this way we may prepare ourselves for that adornment of the soul that I would so much like to see, when something like Christian Morgenstern's poetry descends on the soul in the leisurely moments that one has. Then one feels something of what I have just hinted at.

For me personally, there has been something very special in connection with these poems in the last few days. I read a few pages that our dear member Christian Morgenstern wrote, and I may confess – perhaps Christian Morgenstern himself will not be offended if I take a few minutes to do so before reciting – , that reading some of the unpretentious, simple words that appeared as “Autobiographical Notes” in the publishing house almanac Piper, Munich, is one of those moments of rare joy, of very inner joy. I may speak personally. One feels, precisely through the touches of Christian Morgenstern's love-awakening community soul with another, immersed in regions where, with this soul, one finds oneself alone but surrounded by the world's powers when reading something like the opening words to the autobiographical note. You feel as if you were being blown towards something strange and mysterious when someone says something like that. Perhaps it will seem strange to some that I am saying this here, but it is so.

“The year 1901 saw me through Paul de Lagarde's ‘German Writings’. He seemed to me – Wagner was estranged from me then through Nietzsche – as the second decisive German of the last decades, to which it might also agree that his entire nation had gone its way without him.”

If you are prepared to take on board an independent characteristic of the poet, then you will be able to draw a lot from such beautiful, seemingly unassuming words.

I would like to suggest this in order to be able to say that in Christian Morgenstern's poetry, something can be felt that I think leads to regions that a human soul can only enter in two ways: either as a creator, or at the side of the soul of a creator. Otherwise, these regions of human feeling and experience, which can be found where poems like “The Star” or many wonderfully beautiful landscape pictures in Christian Morgenstern's work were created, are closed to one. Otherwise, the path to this region is closed.

And the second word that I would like to express, where we get a deeper impression of life, is the word that truly reveals to us what each person is as an individual. There is something in the world for each of us that stands before us as a poet-individual, which is a sanctuary that no other person but only he himself can enter. For the gods have created for each such soul a lonely, isolated place in the vast universe, from which the others are excluded if the person in question does not approach them in such a way that he leads them to his sanctuary, if he does not take them by the hand spiritually and lead them there. That one can feel something of creation, of the inner soul creation that the poet wants to bring into the world, that is what I would like to have expressed to you with these words.

It is not for me to speak about the poems themselves, some of which date from earlier times and some of which were created in recent times, because there is a feeling that tells us: when it comes to poems, in some respects it is not permitted to approach them with words, but only with those depths of the soul, where words no longer speak. These are such depths of the soul. That is something of what I would like to see felt.

And since I am speaking to you personally in these minutes, please allow me to make this comment as well. I have often had the feeling that within our movement there are those who, for one reason or another, have the impulse to please someone. It will always give me personal pleasure when many souls, who have delved into our movement through what our movement can achieve in this area, are able to turn to the right, true, beautiful reception of Morgenstern's poetry. And if I am to speak of a joy that one or the other of you personally wants to give me, then he can actually give it to me best by finding himself ready to penetrate with understanding into something of the kind that we would now like to give you some good samples of. These are the things that allow one to feel personally connected to our movement, and to step out of character for a moment, so to speak, and speak intimately and personally of one's joy, including the fact that among the greatest of these joys is that we have poets like Christian Morgenstern among us, in our midst. The best I can give you is not an introduction to someone who can speak for himself. But what I would like is for joy, much joy, to flow from my soul into yours, my dear friends, so that many of you will feel with me what I myself feel so gladly and will always feel. May our dear friend Christian Morgenstern bestow upon us many, many of the poetic creations that accumulate in his soul. We wish with all our hearts that we may experience much of what he still has to give us, and that we may always find the mood to receive much of it.

With that, I wanted to greet you with a few words about what is to be given to you in the recitation.

The recitation by Marie Steiner followed. The order is not known.

Today, as one year ends its cycle and a new one begins, before I move on to my lecture, we want to reflect on something that, when I follow the feelings of my own heart, I can say is suitable for putting us in the right, loving festive mood.

During the last lecture cycle in Stuttgart, we were able to introduce a number of our friends to the poetry of Christian Morgenstern, who is with us today, to our great satisfaction. And today, Miss von Sivers will present some of the new poems by our esteemed friend, some of the poems that have not yet been printed, but whose publication we are looking forward to with deep satisfaction in the near future.

If I may first express in a few words what I myself feel about these poems, I would like to say to you that the fact that we are able to get to know Christian Morgenstern's poems as those of one of our dear members is one of the very special joys and satisfactions that I find in the field of our work for a spiritual worldview of the present day. I would like to say that one of the highest proofs of the inner core of truth and the truth value of what we seek with our soul is that we see, springing from the spiritual soil we are trying to enter, the poems of Christian Morgenstern, which are of such depth of heart and height of mind.

I have sometimes heard it said by this person or that, and also by some close friends, that life in the kind of ideas through which we seek access to the spiritual worlds can have a cooling and paralyzing effect on the development of poetic power and poetic imagination. And sometimes I could detect something like fear in those who do not want their poetic power to be damaged by a connection with the spiritual life that we seek with our souls. That the most beautiful, most delicate, noblest, truest poetry can be of the same mind and the same driving force as what we seek ourselves, is evidenced by the poetry of Christian Morgenstern. However, for poetry, true poetry, genuine artistic spirit to prevail in the spheres of intellectual life that we are trying to penetrate, it is necessary that the warmth of the heart, which is imbued with the intimacy of the intellectual life, as it could pulsate through our time, rises to that creative imagination that wants to be illuminated by the power of the intellectual life. And this is, in my feeling, in my feeling, the case with the poetry of Christian Morgenstern. Especially when I let such poetry, as you will hear it later, take effect on my soul, then I cannot help but put into words what I experience through it, which I would like to express in anthroposophical form.

When I let such a poem work on my soul in peace, I have something else in addition to this poem, something that every true, real art has as well. I would like to say the word: these poems have an aura! They are imbued with a spirit that permeates and interweaves with them, that radiates from them, that gives them their innermost power, and that can radiate from them into our own soul. And allowing me to express my own spiritual situation in relation to these poems, I would like to say: We often hear the saying, which is certainly true: If you want to understand the poet, you must go to the poet's country! Today, in relation to the poems of our friend, I would like to turn this saying around in a certain way: If you want to understand a country properly, you must have an ear for its poets! For no other country do I find this more necessary than for the spiritual country. When poets speak in the spiritual country, let us listen to them. Only when we allow not only the more or less scientific content of the spiritual country to penetrate our hearts, but when we understand the poet in the spiritual country, only then have we prepared our soul for the spiritual country. This is the mood in which I would like your souls to receive these poems, just as the mood in which I was privileged to receive Christian Morgenstern's poems was something blissful for me in the face of the inner strength of the soul that leads to the spiritual realms.

And in this context, I would like to express two hopes today: the first is that many of you may be inspired to get to know the true poetic soul in his various works, of which we will hear a few samples afterwards. It will always be a satisfying realization for me to know that many of our friends are drawn to Christian Morgenstern's poetry.

The other wish is that our friend may continue to be as creatively active as he was in the poems we are expecting to see published, and from which we will now hear a few samples, for our profound satisfaction and artistic uplift.

This was followed by Marie Steiner's recitation. The order is not known.

Recitation by Marie Steiner from “Poems” by Friedrich Lienhard

WHERE FROM?

I don't know and can't find words,
Where my home is.
They stand tall and shine like candles
The birches down into May.
But I see out, as if lost,
Far away, somewhere else I am at home,
Far!...

That homesickness that I cannot explain,
Those whispering questions in the firs
of a strange forest:

Was I in ancient times
A knight on the rough sea?
Do I hear the great surf
Rushing in sorrowfully and heavily?
Did I fall in battle
For a granite possession?
Was my heroic galley
Smashed by wild lightning?

Perhaps years ago I was
A fresh and vigorous lad;
A brooklet murmuring ran
Through a mill-bottom.
I have sat by it
In many a youthful carol,
While another, laughing, lay
In a different arm.
I know not and find no words
Where my home is.

People hurt me,
I ask the wind: why?
Wherever I listen, wherever I look,
Their behavior remains strange and silent to me.
Their city is full of unmelodiousness!
They never see the realms of the universe,
Do not see that they are trapped –
I wish I were a child again!

I would speak so sweetly,
So strangely, as I am moved!
Break the abundance of images
That hang luminously on my trees!
With “you”, with “brother” and “sister”
Wandering through a kind world,
Loving, saying love
To anyone I like.
Light as a ghost, only bound in God, free!

I don't know and can't find words
Where my home is...

MORNING WIND

You lovely morning bells, when stalk strikes against stalk!
When the ringing meadow moves to the swinging bells!
I listen to all the grasses, to all the bells
Come, wild morning wind, come in, come in, come in!

It is a delicate plucking, just a stirring of strings:
after all, the winds are little fingers that tremble as they glide over them!
Then a stronger whistling comes from the overblown meadow:
the dew shaken by the wind springs and sings in drops!

And what the delicate harp swings,
The wind song, the sound of the blades of grass,
And what sings in strong tones
On the whole noisy meadow slope:

I pick until I have shreds and scraps
to please myself and amuse you, sounds caught in fiddle and song!

So I know many melodies in all the meadows:
We wait for the morning wind and become a chime!

SUMMER FOREST

How shyly the summer wind walks in the fir forest!
It calls by as if from a distant child,
Who is standing in the forest, searching;
But only the mosquitoes hum in the summer breeze
... and their song blows away...
Dear forest!...

Of seven dwarfs, of Snow White dreams
Der Wandter, who in the sun-dazzled flicker
At his fir many hours lingers:
A Hans in Luck, who all the gold's glimmer
In a source threw, which foams in the valley...
Dear forest, oh dear forest!

Red Riding Hood wanders gracefully through the greenery,
the weight of the basket sways on the arm of the little one;
she reaches into the flowers that bloom along the path;
She has to marvel at every umbel, every strange ear
and chat as she makes her way...
Dear forest... oh, dear forest!...

WALDGRUSS

Waldhornschall
Hör' ich dahinten im Wasgenwalde!
O sieh, der Fingerhut
Leuchtet von sonniger Halde!
Eidechsen huschen übern Stein,
The thyme-scented rain smells lush,
Bumblebees hang on hot clover -

Oh forest, my forest,
I ache for your delights!

WANDERING SOUL

I have always been nurtured by the forest
As a hawk or a stream or an elf of the night;
As ivy, I clung to the ruins,
I stirred as a mist in the ground.
And when the forest wind's tinkling sound
Came through the colored clearing's radiance:
It was I who rang together all the slopes and heights
For a Sunday dance.
And when a beetle with a greenish glow
Flew over the late stick figure:
It was me, I burned a little light for the night, the damp one,
A little light in the grass and dew.

So I was enchanted and have been alive for a long time!
Now I sing it all in human sound...

SUNDAY AFTERNOON

In the village on Sunday afternoons
The songs and humming of one's own heart beat.

In the village on Sunday afternoons
The fields and hedgerows bloom in delicate tones.

Even to the neighbor in the shade there
God's word speaks from the silent Bible.

And the old man, who surveys his land,
Hears melodiously growing clover and cabbage.

For on all the melodies of growth
The echo of holy bells trembles...

FAITH

Like a flower on a mild night,
Fed by the moon, watered by dew,
I grow up from your soil
To that which has sunk me here.

Thy storms are past, thy rain is gone,
Thy vernal air doth woo, thy moonlit night doth dew
Do with me as thou wilt:
Thou art my gardener, I thy herb!

THE CREATING LIGHT

1.

You unfathomable radiance!
You unfathomable sea!
Oh spring, cast waves of bliss
Over the wanderer!

The light of the east and the steaming
The hawthorn in the dewy hedge,
The breaking and the roaring of the brooks
How do I sing such a sparkling day?

Listen, in the heavens hang
Enough singing larks!
I will make you drink,
O spring day, little by little.

2.

All the round pink blossoms
That burst from peach trees;
All the invisible larks
That sing on white clouds;

All the flowers that light like little flames
on the meadow ignite;
Those children who at the edge of the forest
laugh on Sunday mornings

Oh, and the beating of the heart:
Everything stretches upwards towards the day!
Everything that has breath becomes a poem:
A hymn of praise to the creative light!

3.

Have you also experienced it?
Often trembles from blossoms and herbs
A homesick, sweet saying,
As if it were a ghostly sound.

And sometimes, after thunderstorms,
There stands, in the evening glow, On the crystal clouds, An unknown land.

And if your hill is high enough, The wind's whispering train Bears a ghostly, delicate singing, As if the late red were sounding.

Do you know the sound so homesick and soft?
It is a greeting from the realm of the soul!
From there God has sent us,
That we may reveal words of light to the dark edge of the earth!

Have you also experienced it?

In the future, when an overview of the development of spiritual life is made, Friedrich Lienhard will always be counted among those poets who know how to bring into the world of outer, physical reality the sounds of spiritual life, the sounds of yet another world.

Friedrich Lienhard is a poet of whom we must say, especially in our present time, when so much that is untrue, inauthentic, and fantastic is mixed in art and poetry, that he is genuine and true as an artist, as a poet, and as a human being to the very bottom of his soul. And when all the tendencies that, in the second half of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th century, one might say tended towards all possible “isms” as a kind of accompaniment to materialistic tendencies in the artistic and aesthetic fields, have disappeared, only then will it be felt that the spiritual life in poets like Friedrich Lienhard shows the ideal goals in the world. One will feel that his poetry does not see art in the fact that one will see in it external images that have been viewed with the senses and simply placed in some poetic guise or other or expressed in some artistically formed words or forms, but that one will see the artistic, the poetic in it, that the invisible, mysterious world that physical world is truly enchanted everywhere, that this invisible, mysterious world, which man weaves out of the interaction of all world harmonies for the human gaze, and which is like a breath cast over the sensual reality, may be evoked from its enchantment, and that one may try to penetrate the message of poetic creation and poetry.

Thus, Friedrich Lienhard faces the world, humanity, and the entire universe not only as an artist, not only as a poet, but, more than that, as a seeker, as someone who interwoven with the riddles of human existence, of world existence, and who is able to tune his poetic power by feeling these riddles of the world, these riddles of humanity.

When we listen to the older of his poems, we feel how this human mind lives with all that lives and moves in nature itself, how the joys, the elemental joys of this human heart are released from the processes of nature, as if the spirits of nature itself in this human heart, and we hear the strange weaving of the elemental beings of nature in Friedrich Lienhard's poetic work, and that, in turn, is what in his poetry goes beyond the often dull and narrow of his contemporaneity, and out of which he had to grow.

On the other hand, the intimate, sincere, deep feeling for nature and the interweaving with all the intricacies of human life and what is produced in the individual human mind, on the one hand, longing, joyful elation, and on the other, brings pain and deep suffering, all this is caused by Friedrich Lienhard's poems, so that we cannot understand them if we grasp them individually as human beings, but grasp them as developing out of a people and a spirit of our newer development.

It is very peculiar when you have an ability to really feel your way into Friedrich Lienhard's poetry, especially at the point where the poem begins to take on its deeper traits and characteristics, but where people's souls often do not want to go. If you have the ability to empathize with and follow such things, you will find that the unique nature of Friedrich Lienhard's work truly poetically lives and weaves its own language, removed from the world, which demands its own answer, I would say, in the great existence of the world, which satisfies it in order to allow the living weaving and essence of all nature to live on in its own. Then we find, as in swinging waves, how with wings of being and of higher life, what creates and works in nature lives on, and makes us feel how elemental spirits of magic obtain being through what Friedrich Lienhard says, through what lives in the universe and wants to enter into poetic creation because it cannot fully live in creating nature. Thus we see how in Lienhard's language there is something like a higher natural tone, and how the weaving of alliteration lives quite naturally into Friedrich Lienhard's linguistic work. If we try to listen and fathom that which can truly show us how the heart finds expression in the tones of the words, we will see how nature still weaves into the shining light, into the air that produces sound, how forces and beings turn to the existence of nature that cannot be seen except by the artist's eye, cannot be felt except by the artist's heart and mind. Souls like Friedrich Lienhard's often appear to us as if the divine All-Mother of existence had saved up what was left of her surplus of creative power and what she could not use up to create the natural kingdoms, in order to express in a very special way in individual human individuals what she cannot say herself from within her own creatures.

And then we feel very deeply what Goethe wanted to say when he spoke of human creativity as a nature above nature, as a nature in which spiritual devotion and spiritual elevation are summarized in that which is otherwise spread out in the wide realms of natural existence.

Friedrich Lienhard became a seeker in this sense, carried by the mysterious forces that create and invigorate him, and so he surrendered to those moods of nature in which what what works and what is in nature, in order to feel what plays from human heart to human heart and what leads to the great universe and to what the poet is called to depict in a picture.

Thus we see how Friedrich Lienhard, as a seeker, is always growing and developing, how he is not like someone who simply presents himself to the world to say what is currently moving his heart, his individual human soul, but how grown with human becoming and weaving, which does not merely want to live as a single egoity, but wants to be like an exponent, like an effect of what lives in the vastness of the human soul, in the soul of a people, in the soul of an age.

After Friedrich Lienhard had reached a certain level of maturity, he immersed himself in what the more recent spiritual development has brought in so many different ways, and expressed in his own way how he began to study Goethe, Schiller, Herder, Jean Paul, Novalis in order to understand the other newer spiritual greats more closely, to understand them more deeply, to live with them more intimately. He described the paths he had taken in his very remarkable hermit journal, which nevertheless, as a hermit journal, was able to speak to the outside world about his “paths to Weimar”.

He had wandered the paths to Weimar, those paths to Weimar that are the present paths of humanity's newer nature wanderings, the paths of humanity today that can be found in our state of development, those paths on which Goethe sought the connection with the worlds of heaven and of the soul, those paths that Herder fathomed in order to find how human becoming is connected with cosmic evolution and with historical evolution. Those paths to Weimar through which humanity can sympathize with those from whom joy has receded, those paths to Weimar of which Goethe speaks, that they expand into a cosmic, into a world-feeling, those paths through which the human soul in all its intimacy can feel so connected with the nature of the universe, where the soul is able to feel with joy, feel with suffering, feel with the divine on the other side, that human nature is able to feel the divine in the harmonies of heaven, that it is able to bring a weeping eye on the one hand, a cheerful eye on the other. It was along these paths that Friedrich Lienhard sought to follow in Noyalis' footsteps. He wanted to find a way into the supersensible worlds with a groping human sense, the way that one must go if one still wants to find the human souls that have left their earthly bodies. It was along these paths that Friedrich Lienhard followed Goethe, who had preceded him, in loyal allegiance, on which the human soul is healed of all spiritual egoism, of all spiritual individualism, because it can allow itself to be absorbed by humanity's striving toward the All, those paths on which it is healed of egoism, of obstinacy. And so he found the way, alongside those who have striven for the healing and maturing of humanity, to empathize with Goethe, Schiller, to empathize with Novalis and the others.

That is what Friedrich Lienhard strove for on his journeys to Weimar, and then he added what he had found in the way of intellectual and spiritual development and feeling, and he brought into his art what he himself had striven for as the highest. Thus Friedrich Lienhard did not develop in isolation but in relationship to others, and now we have the great joy, at the time when Friedrich Lienhard's rich striving culminates in his fifty-first year, to see in our midst someone who strives for the spiritual heights of humanity, and we can have a great joy that he is in our midst, a joy that can be great because we not only want to develop a selfish spiritual life for each individual soul, but because, if we want to develop a healthy spiritual life, we have to draw threads to all that lives and strives in the world in a spiritual way.

Friedrich Lienhard has found a way to walk with the elemental spirits that rush through the leaves with the wind, that trickle with the water, that flicker in the light. He has found a way to walk with these elemental spirits of nature so that his words become boats that carry these elemental magical spirits human activity and human creativity – Friedrich Lienhard also found the way to build even larger boats that are able to take on and guide the other spirits, through which those who have gone to Weimar have sought the way from the individual soul to the collective soul of humanity.

Just as Friedrich Lienhard wandered on these two paths, he now also wanders the long spiritual path that we ourselves seek with our weak powers. With strong longings, he tried to penetrate not only the individual soul of this strange, hermit-like, spiritually gifted pastor from Alsace with his novel 'Oberlin', but with this novel he also tried to penetrate the entire cultural-historical fabric of time, within which Oberlin, the seer, the lonely seer from Alsace, stands.

Thus Friedrich Lienhard also came to be a poet like those who, like Hamerling and other similar poets, try to depict the secrets of humanity itself from the historical life and development of humanity, to find the riddles of life. It is highly appealing to see how the human life and essence of the entire age grows out of the portrayal in Friedrich Lienhard's beautiful novel Oberlin. In his later historical works, Friedrich Lienhard tried to go further, depicting how man today combines spirit and nature, how he can try to travel the pilgrimage of life with his soul. Friedrich Lienhard has truly grown into the spirit-filled work and activity, and how close he is to our striving will be shown to you in the recitation of the poems, which, I would say, are truly the substance of our soul and which we will hear.

In poems such as “Christ on Tabor” or “Temple of Fulfilment”, Friedrich Lienhard has found the most intimate connection with the spiritual feeling that we are seeking. When one can see that more and more the time is approaching in which a spiritual creator will show whether he is grasped by the spiritual calls that will sound in the future by the fact that he shows himself to be equal to a real real respect for the world's only, humanity's only form of Christ, if one may say this, then one may also say: Friedrich Lienhard has found his way to such forms of his poetry, thinking and creating that can stand understandingly in relation to humanity's only, the world's only form of Christ Jesus. Thus he belongs not only to the present, but, as one of the beginnings, to the future that we long for, that man must long for, who understands his time in the present.

In the poem “Temple of Fulfilment”, which we will hear later, Friedrich Lienhard shows us how what is in the symbol before him is also in our mind's eye in the symbol, in that symbol that is to express to us how the hearts, minds and spirits of humanity can grow into that future which must overcome materialism for the reason that Ahriman must be bound again for the salvation of the world, for the salvation of the world. We want to remember this above all at the time when our dear friend Friedrich Lienhard turns fifty, that he has known how to connect those who can follow the calls for the future of humanity, who have recognized, as one must recognize, that everything must be abandoned from the structure of human development and that only that which strives for the fruits of the spirit, the spiritual seeds that are sown today for the future, can remain.

So let us be among those for whom the fiftieth birthday of Friedrich Lienhard is a beautiful celebration, a celebration that they want to celebrate lovingly in their hearts, in their minds, a celebration at which we want to indulge in the thought that Friedrich Lienhard not only belongs to us for our joy, but belongs to those who want to work on the great 'building of the temple of spiritual human development'. We want to strengthen and invigorate our love for our friend, we want to strengthen and invigorate our understanding of his very unique way of thinking and being. Many of you, my dear friends, know him; he has been here and in other places among us. You know him, the remarkable man who walks among other people as if his eyes were looking into a world from which a piece of what the eyes usually look at with interest and attention disappears, as if he does not see many things, but instead sees other things that those around him do not see. And so, I would say, he seems pure in his outward walk like a dreamer of a world that others around him only become aware of when they sense it in his soul, in his mind, when they stand opposite his pensive head. He appears as a personality who feels much that others cannot feel, who is unworldly in many respects because he seeks kinship with a world that can only be known by becoming estranged from much of what is so familiar to many other people.

Indeed, when one feels, I would say discreetly, the peculiar characteristic of this personality, then the most intimate love for his whole being mixes with the veneration of his beautiful, his highness-filled work, and then we also learn to relate to him in the right way. Today, as we look forward to the fiftieth year of his life, we want to harbor and cultivate these thoughts within us, so that they can become beautiful wishes, strong wishes that Friedrich Lienhard may be granted to create much, much more in the rising, further epoch of life, in the higher, mature epoch from the deep source of his spirit-filled, nature-loving, humanity-loving, humanity-friendly creativity and work. And let us say it with the deepest satisfaction, a word in reference to him fills us with joy, fills us with satisfaction, but also fills us with a certain trust in our own cause, a word spoken in reference to him: Let us rejoice, for he is ours!

Recitation by Marie Steiner from “Lichtland” by Friedrich Lienhard

TEMPLE OF FULFILLMENT

The blue dome arches up to the red wall;
And in the blue are stars wrought in gold.
Twelve masters stand in the round columned hall
And turn their gaze of power from afar
thirteenth, who stands before the altar gray
In the silver robe of the leader
And collects twelve-fold strength in prayer.

So the sun runs through the signs of the zodiac
And receives twelve special powers,
Then sends them out into the world;
So power exchanges with power at all ends
Of the cosmos and the small human life;
And no least one shines and works in vain
The sun's goal can be reached by every star.

Everyone for everyone - and everyone for everyone!
This wonderful hall is rhythmic:
Because each of these gently curved arches
Is drawn over every master's head,
The marble remains beneath it;
The room is filled with a fine, breathing wave
Of clarified soul forces, strong and delicate.

Whoever enters this solar temple
Is marked by the double seven
of the symbolic columns that surround the hall
with symmetry all around;
Like a dove, he senses above him the white dome window's round shape floating:
And the holy ray falls on the altar.

Only what is sensed may be formed here,
fulfillment dwells in this building's curve;
the yearning for the distance calms down in peace,
and the earthly wound heals.
Escaped from base, nocturnal forces,
the consecrated one sees the place as destined
for his heavenly recovery.

And he beholds the archetypal form of all things,
The world's confused play becomes harmony;
The blood of the cross presents itself as roses,
On which the crystal-clear light from above
Falls as a sound, the sound of the melody of the spheres,
Which fills this high space with beauty
And every hard edge softly envelops...

You have been drawn to this temple for a long time,
You long to look inside and pray.
But you still turn to the rose beds
Along the yew wall of the outer world
And are not freed from what sounds outside
And that temple's existence booms –
When you have matured, you will enter it.

CHRIST ON TABOR

Beyond the tribulation,
Sparkling with the power of grace,
You stand, solar figure,
And the transitory suffering there is transformed
Into a golden light.

So you are beyond

And yet attainable:
Because we,
As often as we rise from the waters of affliction
As you would rise—
Surrounded by the sun, we stand with you,
Clad in gold, transformed into light.

Behold, you once stood like this,
When you walked in the garments of the earth,
Casting forth the radiance of future glory,
Great upon Tabor.
In dialogue with you were
The exalted masters of primeval times:
Elijah and Moses.
But beneath you, in shadow and darkness, The sparkling God-man!
Stepped out of the covers and stood,
Stood like a pillar of sacrificial flame
Tall on the nocturnal Tabor!

Then those approached, sparkling like you,
The great ones of the past,
Stepped out of the veiling light clouds,
took shape and stood in splendor
on the summit of Tabor.
And they exchanged radiant speech with you,
greeted you from the blessed ones,
filled the rapt disciples with flaming power
and withdrew again
into the mysterious moonlit night.

But you, Master, and your disciples
Silent, radiant; knowing smiles
On faces glowing in the light,
You walked back down to the dark people.

Today, we will include a presentation of German poetry in the circle of reflections that we are now cultivating during this time. The first part of this presentation will be dedicated to the poet in whose presence we have the great and intimate satisfaction of seeing him in our midst today: our dear Professor Friedrich Lienhard. And it is in keeping with a deep feeling for the unique life's work of our esteemed friend that I want to express, albeit late, following the feelings that have been expressed to Friedrich Lienhard by the broadest circles of the German people on the occasion of his birthday a few weeks ago. It certainly corresponds to our deepest feelings when I express to him today the complete merging of all our warmth with the festive joys that have surrounded him, which have shown him how much that which he has been able to give to his people from the depths of his gifted nature resonates in the hearts of many.

Certainly, my dear friends, there was a wider circle that is more important for historical development today than our narrower circle, which in a festive mood has approached Friedrich Lienhard in the last few weeks. But with all our hearts we join with our feelings, with our sentiments, with what Friedrich Lienhard was fully entitled to hear in these weeks: the deepest agreement of her innermost feelings with his feelings. Many have spoken to him about it. The highest recognition that science can give to human intellectual endeavor has been bestowed upon Friedrich Lienhard by his, I would say, mother university. This is a source of great joy to us and, I am sure, to all those who are able to feel the deep debt of gratitude that exists towards human intellectual achievement. All those who heard about how Lienhard's mother university awarded the honorary doctorate, the recognition of science for human intellectual achievements, were overcome with the deepest satisfaction and joy. And in the deepest sense, we empathized with everything that has happened around him in the past few days, empathized because what is so infinitely sacred to us, what we cling to with all our love and striving, also seems to permeate his work.

It can be said that more recent human culture has produced much that is significant in the way of poetic art. In many places, what present culture can give to people flourishes in poetic achievements. The future will decide, and the heart of the present can already sense how it will decide, which of these blossoms are so closely linked to the temporality of contemporary culture that they will also fade when that culture, with its sole affiliation to the present, sinks into the past. And what is culture of our time has been brought up from the depths of the human being, that it blossoms, grows and greens towards that which is eternal, which will remain of our culture of the times, as something that carries the seeds of the future and will be a support for the ongoing spiritual culture of humanity. We want to be connected to the eternal in the present, to everything that reaches into the future, with all our hearts. And we hear this in the words of Friedrich Lienhard. When we connect with the wonderful natural moods that sound so uplifting, so enchanting, so delightful, so graceful in Friedrich Lienhard's poetry, then we feel how, behind his work, in his work, the spirits of nature themselves surge and weave. We feel drawn through the word, through the thought, through the feelings, to the creative nature, with which we also want to connect in knowledge through spiritual science. And we feel that these poems arise from what seizes man from the eternal, that they express this eternal in the temporal for the upliftment, the joy, the elevation of the human heart and soul. This makes us intimate with all of Lienhard's poetry. It makes us read and listen to it; it makes us, I would say, live and weave ourselves into it from the very first line, feel connected to its life element, to its creativity, and at the same time feel how the soul's life force, the spirit's air of life, overflows in us when we are allowed to let the impressions of his poetry take effect on us. Then again, when he conjures up the figures of ancient times out of the mysterious fog of existence, in lively activity and lively effectiveness, then we feel that yearning of humanity come to life, which expresses itself in the fact that the human human soul must look beyond everything that takes place historically on the outside, before the eyes and ears and the other senses of humanity, and plays itself up into the mythical, which, as an eternal element, encompasses the historical-temporal. And in this truly mythical element, in this element that connects human hearts with the eternal, we feel the figures that Friedrich Lienhard conjures out of the darkness and yet so full of light of prehistoric times.

On the one hand, Lienhard's poetry elevates us from the sensual to the spiritual and creative side of nature, from the present to the past. On the other hand, in his creations, we feel how they carry us into that which can take hold of us from everyday life in a deepening way can take hold of us in a deepening way, enabling us to live in the here and now as a spiritual and living being, how these poems connect us with everything humanly close and humanly lofty, how they develop heart and mind for everything that lives and moves in the world with man. Immersing ourselves in his poetry, we are able to live through its magic with so much that conquers and elevates human hearts in nature and spirit. And so, living with his poetry, we experience the most intimate happiness, the happiness that is the guide to man's true home.

So I ask you, my dear Professor Lienhard, to accept this greeting, which comes from the faithful search for understanding of the impression of your life's work, your life's work that has incorporated so much meaningful and eternal from the development of humanity and entitles us to greet you for all that we now hopefully expect from you in this incarnation. Please accept these words as a promise that we would like to extend to you, not out of passing feelings, but out of a deeper understanding of your life's work to date. Take them as an expression of our desire for all that we may hope for to come from you. Please accept my words as a prelude to every greeting that we wish to extend to you on your future journey through life. May what we strive for be bound to what you strive for. This bond will be sacred to us and we will always view it in such a way that we feel happy and satisfied to see the poet Friedrich Lienhard in our midst. Every moment that we spend in your company will be a moment of heartfelt joy and satisfaction for us.

I wanted to express this to you as a greeting before we now open our hearts to your work again for a short time.

Recitation by Marie Steiner from 'Poems' by Friedrich Lienhard: Faith; Morning Wind; Forest Greeting; The Creating Light (see page 216 for texts),

Lonely Rock

A rock beckons me in the golden air,
High and alone.
Around its summit is the scent of the heath
And evening glow.
A faithful little bee rings out in the herb
Flower bells, pure and calm.
Whoever looks out from there over the land
The world is his!

ELFENTANZ

Raschelgewänder und seidene Schuh',
Krone, Korallen und Bänder dazu
Rundaradei!
Rauschen und schleifen wir, singen dabei,
Rauschen und singen wir,
we swing our rustling skirts
around the ash tree, around into May,
Rundaradei, eia, rundaradei!

Do you want to catch us?
You have to dance with us!
Do you have feet as silky as ours?
Are you as flexible,
Are you as cuddly,
Are you as fast and as swinging as we are?

The leaves on the bush,
They turn in the breeze
The grass-green skirts and flicker in the process!
And if from the blue
The nights a thaw came,
So dances and sparkles in the morning of May!

Drink the light and dance yourself lively!
Drink the light and then up the hill!
A pearl from the early grass splashes down on you, Imagine an elf leaping at you! Finches, oh, see how they fly, Little clouds, oh, see how they glide, Everywhere, everywhere, faces of the sun, You alone in the midst of it all, a darkened man!

Do you want to grab us?
You have to drag along with us!
Do you also have little feet as silky as ours?
Are you as flexible,
Are you as cuddly,
Are you as fast and as nimble as we are?

He stumbles and lurches,
The clogs of the shaggy bear!

Nimble, buzz around him,
Flirting, confusing him!
Whirlwind, caressing wind, teasing wind: there!
Tousle him fine,
Pluck him fine,
Pluck and pluck and pluck him fine!
Hey, and so we float airily and free!
Down there, you catch me now, catch me, catch me,
Tear the train behind me, kiss my cheek, after all,
Catch me – catch me – catch me –
Gone!

SUMMER NIGHT

Strange night! In the reed and moor,
How the dry reed rustles and slurps!
It embraces as if it were alive,
And sighs as it releases them again.

How sweet the rustling sounds!
I have always loved the night wind:
It breathes voices and souls into the reeds, the birches, the moonlight
It breathes voices and souls into them.

Many ghosts are dancing, the world is loud,
The smallest herb stirs and giggles.
From the old knight's tower,
An owl laughs into the enchanted night...

EVENING RED

I long for a homeland that has no earthly boundaries,
I long for an eternal heavenly city out of human need.
The evening glow shines brightly and clearly, the spring rustles gently in the Wasgenwald
How soon my day on earth will pass, and all my daily work!

Oh, come, thou universal night, which knows no earthly measure,
From whose depths star upon star burns upon our tiny star!
I am not tired of the day's work, and yet I am tired of the day
I long for your vastness, you unlimited heavenly city!

AUTUMN ON ODILIENBERG

1. Autumn bells

Through red forest and bell singing,
Through an autumn day's sparkling dew
I seek on anxious heights
The stronghold of a holy woman,
Seeking sunshine above the clouds!
Oh misty walk,
Oh rugged slope,
I will a proud life long
be a pilgrim!

2. The blue flower

The earth smiles as a garden land
On the pilgrim who found the blue flower.

A lily blooms from the deep forest blue:
The bright monastery of a holy woman.

And though I search always, always, always,
You, silent mountain, are the blue flower.

3. Autumn Walk

How beautiful you are! You're a web of golden hair,
I walk transfigured through a fairy-tale grove.
All my soul soars up to God,
A smoke that lost itself in the blue of the heights.

Am I the one who walks dreaming in the falling leaves,

As this earth is full of colors,

Odilienberg is as beautiful as heaven!
In nothing but light, valley and hill dissolve,
And bliss was mine, which was so full of sorrow
Thank you for everything, you blessed year!

SUNDAY MORNING ON THE ODILIENBERG

What laughter and radiance today in the forest and shimmering meadow?
Odilia walks over the mountain and blesses the sunny valleys.

The early bells awaken far and near from weekdays and worries
There is a wondrous radiance on this Sunday morning!

From Otrott and from Heiligenstein, from Klingental and further:
A holy Jacob's ladder rises from the sound of the bells!

And all the saints who have ever lived in the land of the Alisassen
They gather in the “Heidenstadt”, in invisible lanes!

And all the Celts and warriors who long ago converted to the Lord
They crowd like a forest of flowers around the one who is highly revered.

Oh sea of spirits, oh sea of sounds, oh radiance in forest and meadow
Odilia walks over the mountain and blesses the sunny district!

ST. ODILIA

Patron Saint of Alsace

Her heart was a sun,
her eyes were dead and gray!
And from the clear forehead
of the beautiful woman
flowed the golden hair
in a rich flood —
Oh Holy Woman of Odilia,
make me pious and good!

In a mountain spring
she washed her white hands
and her blind eyes
Then she saw her Alsace
in pure May blossom
standing before her eyes
Oh holy woman of Odilia,
teach me to see!

In the monastery the bells are ringing,
The world is drowning in the fog
But see, the stars are shining brightly
From the summer night sky,
But see, Strasbourg is shining brightly
Over to our heights
Oh Holy Lady of Odilia,
Alsace is beautiful!

We will then connect with what we hear from Friedrich Lienhard's poetry, some of a poet who, like Friedrich Lienhard, shows us that the most Germanic nature finds its way out of its self-conception to the eternal of an ideal world view, who also shows us how the whole intimate empathy with the vibrations of the German being broadens the view to universality, to an all-worldly view, how the German view does not narrow, how it leads out to the great wide plan, where all that is human comes into its own and nothing human is misunderstood.

Wilhelm Jordan is the other poet, of whom we want to hear the piece of his Nibelung poem, especially where he wants to introduce a mood of the human heart, where the heart opens out of the temporal in order to listen for counsel for the temporal out of the eternal. How the German hero seeks counsel not only in the external world, but also from spiritual beings who speak through nature and through the soul's outer being. How the German hero opens his heart to this counsel in order to repel the threat that comes from the Huns in the east and threatens the burgeoning of German culture. This scene, which is so poignantly connected with the innermost German feeling, but with the feeling of world culture, is then inserted into our present performance.

From “The Nibelungs” by Wilhelm Jordan. The Saga of Sigfrid, 18th Song.

Just then spoke to the servants
Of the sanctuary in the grove at Holmgart,
Now already infirm and very old, the seeress Oda:

“I thought to rest from the runic office, The little time that my pilgrimage On earth still lasts; but highly significant Is this message from the reeve of Berne; The noble Ditrich, who has long since been in charge of Ditmar, Tired of age, of the power. His bravest man and armorer, Hildebrant, the son of Herbrant,he sent, together with Siegfried's steward,to the mighty mother of men and his most valiant man and armorer,
Hildebranten, the son of Herbrant,
Sandt' he, together with Sigfrid's carer,
to the mighty mother of men and gods,
to give account, to seek advice
and guiding light from the fall of the lots...

But small is the measure of human wisdom;
So let us now pray for revelation
From the omniscient spirit of the mighty goddess,
Who bears all happenings in her womb,
And sees the shadow cast of what is still uncreated.
Omnipotent mother of men and gods,
Once more in this hour,
Strengthen the mouth of the weary. For the last time,
Before I die, I will ascend
The golden throne on the hollow step
And, with incense clouds swirling around my forehead,
From the disappointing breath from the eternal depths,
boldly gaze into the future. —
So now speak, messenger, Ditrich of the Berners:
What does he ask of the goddess of the Goth leaders ?“

Then the offspring of Heribrant spoke:

”What will help us to salvation
from the Hunnic hordes?
What is the goal of the future for a German?"

Once the question had been asked, she climbed the ladder
weakly and with difficulty. With a golden knife
she cut the rice, came down slowly,
carved the smooth bark with runes,
divided the stick into small pieces,
And turned away, she drew them
On the white carpet... Then she tied on the cloth,
Woven from unbidden, black kid
Wool, bent down, selected,
Reaching blindly, went into the grotto
And bade the princes and witnesses follow her.

Then she mounted the chair. She lined up the rods
On the holy table made of the wood of a fir tree,
Which the storm blast had once split to the root,
And then read the motto according to their position.

Then she sat lost in deep thought,
While the steam in dense clouds
Enveloped her head, to which a hundred winters
Had bleached the hair to a blinding snow.

Now at last she beckons. The incense evaporates,
eyes roll in holy ecstasy
and sparkle with fire, but only into the distance
do they gaze, enraptured, perceiving the future.
And so the divinely gifted began:

"In a surging confusion, shadows of princes and peoples and future strugglesappear to me. But in the space of the searching soul,thousands of yearsdeceptivelymove together in view.

Oh, Ditrich, consider
The envy in the neighborhood!
Otherwise a relative
Will throw you from the throne,
And you seek security
And help to return home
In bitter banishment
With the dreaded enemy.

What threatening urge
From east and west!
There Hun hordes,
Here Merowig's might.
Thus languishes the question
Of rights and realms;
Obey the hero,
That aids to salvation.

Here, the ruling
domestic sovereign
binds the envious neighbors
to a glorious empire;
There lie the corpses,
There rise the cities,
The Lechfeld illuminates
the sun of victory.

Be strong in the West,
Conquer in the East,
And take in the North
The march to the sea,
Only do not seek the concubine
In the south of the mountains,
For spirits and bodies
You poison with your kiss.

Oh King, do you fail to recognize
The meaningful legend
Of the future's salvation
Through domestic discipline?
The fruit tree of the frosty land
Becomes sick and crippled,
Because, to ennoble it,
The palm branch does not fit.

Woe! scarlet red foam
The rivers of blood,
The staggering crowd
Is discouraged and swears.
Then the red beard rages
Hidden in the mountains,
Until the raven pair, waking up,
Calls him to Valhalla.

Then the proud ones pray
And bow their foreheads
Like penitents to the dust
Before the rising star.
What crowns in the manger
The infant victor?
Three kings come
And call him Lord.

Oh, Master of mercy,
The furious, wild
And heartless Hilde
Banishes thy commandment;
Their sword shelters the weak, —
Not again awake —
To the rage of revenge
The envy and the need.

Gone, forgotten
Are gods and heroes,
Inaudible fade away
Their praise and their song.
The fearless fathers
Admired wisdom
Is cunningly slandered
And shamelessly reviled.

Incomprehensible feud
Empties the land,
Sending children and old men
To fight for a grave.
The bearer of the crown,
Struck by the crook,
There he bends barefoot
To the prayer of repentance.

But the magician trembles;
You, little rod, destroy for him
The bulwark of his castles;
His letter is burnt.

Dawn is announced
By the candles of the children's tree:
The time of estrangement
Will soon be over.

Another age of disaster,
Full of doubt and discord?
Brothers are consumed
With an excessive lust for murder.
Like greedy vultures
The Franks estrange
The best of the castles
On the rushing Rhine.

But the flames do not burn for long
The shining embers;
We overthrow the proud
From the defiant throne,
And it repents in exile
On a lonely island
The despot despairing
The disruption of the realm.

Therefore, though the earth
Has more warriors than herbs
To fight the world war,
Be fearless, my people.
Full of proud thoughts
The German endures
The storms with strong patience.

The day of recovery will come,
We will find the leader,
Who remembers our fathers
My people will win.
They will fight the battles,
They will adorn themselves with wreaths
And forge the crown
Of the united power.

The seeress spoke it; then she sank down
And gasped for breath, gasping and groaning,
With a broken look, her head on her chest.
Now she raises her head again as if listening,
With flaming eyes and flying hair.

“O Sigfrid,” she cries, “look at the sun!
It fades, it blackens: the wavering lights,
That shimmer through the shadows of the trees, they form
Not discs as usual, no, sharp sickles.
The toads lament, the owl hoots, So that midday becomes night; the murderous marten Stalks and catches the sleepy birds. As much as you thirst, you dare not drink: For behind you... Help! - wait, Hela! Oh woe - stricken - the world goes to ruin
Dreadful scream - terrible night.

Speech failed her. She leaped up,
As, with an arrow through the heart, the stag leaps up in the air
Plunged to the ground and was dead.

When, deeply moved by the words of the seer
And shaken, stunned by the horrors of death,
Odas' remains surrounded the others,
Then disappeared unnoticed from the threshold of the grotto
And won the expanse of Sibich, the Welsche.

When one hears a Madonna or a goddess speaking from the stage today, one can hardly believe one's ears. Not the slightest attempt is made to free language from the triviality of everyday life; nor is there the slightest attempt to use language to soar to a higher sphere. Every path to the spirit is barred to the stage of today; nowhere does access open to these strange, closed worlds; not even the most modest. One does not even strive to let something of the background from which unearthly figures emerge show through in the language. Real spirituality is a lost concept. A washerwoman at her trough could speak just as these Madonnas do, who are placed on pedestals in many miracle plays – devoid of all divine-spiritual content. Language is so uncultivated, so rough and prosaic, that it hurts, it offends. This is not meant to be disparaging in any way about the way the washerwoman speaks; it is justified in her case. Her difficult profession makes it necessary for her voice to become rough and hard, and her struggle with the material world must make her coarse if she does not have a counterweight in anthroposophy or religion. But the Madonna in the heavenly realms does not need to pursue such a hard physical occupation there. She should still have some atmosphere about her when she stands on the stage pedestal; some radiance, some transparency, some spirituality should resonate in her voice. The speakers should know how to make a voice sound detached and floating from afar. The figure that is presented to us is a symbol of something that reaches up to heaven and brings us its gifts from there, radiating light and spherical tones into us.

And then - the heavenly hosts! Have you ever heard them speak on stage or behind the scenes? Goethe's archangel, for example, and “the Lord”?.. Any couch potato could speak like that and any business traveler. Dry, sober, business-like, very matter-of-fact... But spiritual backgrounds, spheres of spheres, aeon steps... they are missing. “The sun sounds in the brotherly spheres of the ancient way of singing...” there is not much left of that.

But that is what must be sought, striven for, conquered today. Step by step one must feel, hear and sense one's way to it - constantly struggling and never being satisfied - until one breaks through intellectualistic boundaries, clears obstacles of matter out of the way, overcomes narrowness and finds oneself outside, liberated and redeemed. Those who are happy “to find earthworms” do not go beyond themselves, do not discover that they are also an “air man” who dominates the physical man and can use him without being chained to him. He does not find the healing power of the word, the momentum, the luminosity that allows him to grasp the core of his being and carry him over to where he came from. On the wings of the word, he can again seek out the paths that he senses when he places himself back in the word's original powers. I, living breath, center of divinity... that is where the word can lead him back.

And let us look around us in the realms of denser spirituality, which poetry wants to open up to us, in the world of the elements, for example. What keys are given to us today through art, this child of the gods, to open up those realms to us? None at all. Reason and temperament should suffice for everything. One blunders along without having an inkling of the wise mastery of the means of art through the knowledge of our human organization, of the laws that are revelations of divine-creative artistic power, of which man and the earth are the representatives for us. Should we not at last seek to trace the paths the gods have used to create works of art in their own image, and then breathe life into them? Let us enter these paths with our groping consciousness, softly at first and reverently, and let us begin to trace the living breath that gives us the reason for our existence, here as there. When we penetrate into the word - into its essence, we enter these paths. Could there be a more glorious task?

But one must begin with spelling, with the basic elements: the sounds. Not with the pressing forces of our one-sided personality. I saw Shakespeare's “Tempest” on a large stage in Germany. There was no sense of the spirituality of the elements. There was a lot of noise, temper and shouting. The Caliban scenes were extended and exaggerated in a realistic way, far beyond the limits that Shakespeare assigned to them. And Ariel? There was no airiness or lightness of being. A heavy, strong, robust voice, a stocky figure, lots of jumping and shouting. The heaviness of the squat little body was not alleviated by those jumps; the shaggy, disheveled head was the opposite of radiant. Ariel! Is there not a lightness in this word, a radiance, a flying, ringing, floating, airy bliss? Soon after, I saw the same actress as Salome in Hebbel's “Herod and Mariamne.” Then I realized that she had talent because her physique supported her in this role. The dark, heavy voice, the hard, lurking look, the stocky figure, heavily inclined towards the earth – she became the most interesting figure in Hebbel's colorfully heavy play, this ominous Salome-Herodias, while Mariamne was too consciously cool, powerfully intelligent and feminist. Maccabees? Oh no, she is very northern German in character.

When will the actors find the way out of their one-sided minds to the sources that open up the epochs, the races, the elements and the spiritual world to them? They will wither away if they do not find these ways. Nerves driven to the extreme snap, consumption is not interesting for long and in any case not productive; when it becomes fashionable and a mannerism, it is repulsive. There are already more and more voices saying that theater will have to abdicate before film.

I once saw a performance of Iphigenia. It was an event for me; it had something fateful about it, because it could not go on like this; this had been taken to the extreme and had to break. It had to break where the driving forces behind these excesses are and the counterforces are called upon. I do not want to talk so much about Iphigenia herself; she was just terribly boring and banal and expressed the blasé and dull emptiness of the hollowed-out salon lady, who has nothing else to do but walk up and down in her park and be bothered by the one boring suitor. I do not want to dwell on the boxer figure of this admirer either, although with his drooping, naked, muscular arms and his bare bull's neck, he wanted to say, as it were: “Now take my measurements, you won't find a more capable guy...” I also don't remember that anything else would have been said from his words, in any case nothing royal. But Orestes! This Orestes!

It was clear that only one thought had inspired him: to be different from all Orestes that had existed before – and to excel in the trivial. Because – isn't it true that when you're a tramp, you just happen to have copper-red skin, a wild, unkempt shock of hair that's an indefinable color of dust, and a hoarse and flat and tinny voice... Orest is also possessed, and you construct from the intellect what it's like to be possessed: the thoughts are tearing - aren't they - the nerves are aching, you are nervous, you don't want to be touched; everything is disgusting... Such a sophisticated realistic mental image is as true from the inside out as a billiard ball would be if it spoke; from the outside, it looks like a neglected tramp, the kind you might meet on some country road in Russia... But wait, such a thought could have an inspiring effect: Tauris Krim - Russia - obsessed tramps... that provides analogies. Today, one hardly takes a much broader view. In contrast, Tantalus, the Greek hero... that is outdated, has been done too often. And iambic pentameter, the metrical measure... the noble cadence of language... long outdated.

We were told how Maximilian Harden's journalistic cartographies had begun with the editor of the Monday edition of the “Berliner Tageblatt” having a number of young people as his employees, to whom he said: “You do nothing all week but sit in the coffee houses and read all the newspapers you can get hold of, and then you have to write me an article for Monday that is different from anything you have read on the same subject.” — It is said that this best describes Maximilian Harden.

If something similar was the driving motive for that Orest actor, then one would have an explanation for his bizarre and inartistic idea, otherwise not. Although his novelty consisted only in taking to the extreme what had already been achieved in naturalistic intellectualism and in applying a realistically nervous obsession with reduction to a pinnacle of German intellectual achievement. The noblest, most flawless, most perfect creation of German literary art: Goethe's “Iphigenia” in its Roman version, this work was trampled, quite ruthlessly and brutally; and anyone who felt sympathy for such a thing felt trampled along with it. One emerged from such a performance laden with responsibility; for here it was a matter of saving the highest spiritual values.

Around this time, our destiny shaper left us, and he also showed art the new paths to healing. He spanned the shimmering arc over the abyss of modern spiritlessness to the beyond; he built and formed and ignited and sprayed, leaving his work to us in a thousand and one precious stones. In full awareness of our responsibility, we now gather together these gems of his spiritual heritage.

They will continue to bless and ennoble people for thousands of years, and today they will serve us like the magic key that opens closed doors, revives the dead, heals the sick, atones for evil - if we are of good will. All these scattered gems can become a magic key – even if they are still as fragmented as they appear to our eyes in these highly inadequate transcripts of three magnificent lectures. For seven years they have been there, unexcavated for a larger public, because the shortcomings of the transcript were too obvious. And yet there is still so much of the richness left that a rebirth of the theater is possible on this soil.

Every spoken word must be taken in its full value and in its context, and a basis for understanding must be created through the will to gain an overall knowledge of the human and divine world. Rudolf Steiner calls the guidelines he has given us here. He has opened up worlds for us with them.

These lectures can be signposts to those subtler areas of art to which access has been lost today, buried by materialism. The intimacies of the soul life, secrets of the human organization in their connections with the secrets of the cosmos, form the basis for these reflections, which seek to be nothing more than starting points for further penetration through constant work and inner experience. They are only outlined here because of the limited space available; but they are intended to inspire and awaken and can call forth the artist's powers to independent life. They were given as part of a whole complex of lectures that had one goal: to lead out of the destructive forces of our time into new light and to recovery! This was Rudolf Steiner's deed, and even if hostile forces might think that with the paralysis of his public activity, with the burning of the Goetheanum, with his physical death, the work of his life has been stopped or even destroyed, they are mistaken, because the future-saving seeds are there and are working everywhere, even if the outer form breaks.

Preparing and building this future required tireless work, the strength of a superhuman and the sealing through sacrifice. In the midst of a restless working life, one of the highlights of Rudolf Steiner's work was the opening of the Goetheanum as a School of Spiritual Science. It was a time of upheaval and social turmoil, of economic collapse. Even though the artistic works were not all completed, the building could be handed over to its purpose, the work to its goals. For three years, the building served this work: the renewal of humanity in the spirit. Then it burnt down on New Year's Eve. The dignity of the celebration was given to the act of destruction; the greatness of the annual cycle to the historical event. Thus the building was sealed into the cosmos and the course of time when it was snatched from earthly activity.

These lectures form part of the university courses, which could not be absent from the opening ceremony, because they were more than an integral part. For Steiner, the word was the basis of all that is happening. The word was the starting point and center and goal of all becoming and all unsealing. But Rudolf Steiner did not use big words only veiled in mystery; he led to them through recognition and through grasping. What he opened up became perception, became conscious comprehension and action. One was allowed to climb the first rungs of the ladder under his guidance. Then he handed us over to freedom. His word in us was to become daring and deed.

Art was never absent from the events that originated with Rudolf Steiner. We were to approach it with insight, to bring it to fruition with reverence, and to remember its origin. It was an essential component of cosmic worship; it originated in the threefold logos; at the altars of truth, beauty and strength, it served and sacrificed. It has preserved its divine connection for the longest time, through the rationalist ages. In the age of triviality, its divine childhood sank into the physical; the victory of mechanics tore it away from its spiritual sources and chained it to the machine.

It must be redeemed again. The aim of the House of Language – as Rudolf Steiner called the Goetheanum – was to lead art, science and religion out of the separation into which they had fallen and back to their original unity. In the spiritual deepening and mutual fertilization of art, science and religion, Rudolf Steiner saw a remedy that could effectively intervene in the social life of humanity, so that barbarism could be avoided and, instead of the already scientifically proven twilight of European culture arising out of need, misery and error, a new dawn could arise.

The deeply moving words in which he expresses this aspiration clearly show the important role he ascribes to spiritualized art in the reconstruction of higher human culture, and should therefore appear in this book together with the lectures on the arts of oratory.

The house that served these purposes, offering a warm welcome to every guest in free openness, no longer stands. In its place rises a castle-like building made of the austere material of our time, concrete. His creator, who has since passed away, breathed life into it; this ennobles it and gives it its significance. The mystery plays, Rudolf Steiner's dramatic creations, are to be performed there. These place the human being back into his spiritual-cosmic context, make him a citizen of the world, and explain his present personality from his previous earthly lives. Through these dramas, humanity will be able to learn to recognize itself, to experience itself and to renew itself. There, above all, eurythmy is to be cultivated, that art which Rudolf Steiner placed as a new art in the series of the older arts that preceded it, the outer visible moving form of language, which imperatively and compellingly demands the renewal of the art of language, of the artistically spoken word. Rudolf Steiner called for an orchestral interaction between the spoken word and the eurythmic gesture, and this had to be achieved in practice. When what we were doing met his requirements, he gave us an understanding of what we were doing, shone a light into the secrets of the art of speech and poetry, and thus released us from the unbearable.

We are under no illusion that the world will yet show much understanding for this endeavor. We would even understand if some honest seekers were to throw this book aside in the first instance, in desperation and despair. A transformation of consciousness is necessary to tread this path, and one has indeed wanted to keep art away from the penetration of consciousness. Only a consciousness that sees, hears and wills leads us today to true artistic experience and snatches poetic language from the abstract intellectualization and mechanization to which it has already fallen.

If we have become accustomed to accepting what is offered in this direction from the stage, we have no idea what can be suffered when the noblest works of poetry are presented to us in such a mutilated, mistreated, and desecrated state, as happens all too often today.

It is as if the gods were turning away in anger from what we have done with their gifts. They have given us everything, withholding nothing; works have been created of incredible height and purity and formal perfection; the German language has become a tool of the subtlest power and suppleness, to grasp the vastness and depth of being and to unlock the inner being... It is still versatile and pliable and capable of growing beyond itself, thus carrying humanity forward... But those who lead it to this destiny, purposefully and unwaveringly, will be stoned.

Those who trivialize and sensationalize it, on the other hand, are considered masters.

The possibilities of the German language in the contouring and transcendence of its conceptual formulations are matched in another way by the plasticity and permeability of its phonetic elements. It is not musical in the usual sense, not on the surface – you you have to have an inner ear for it – but it has so many shades, lights, veils, brightenings and flashes that with its help you can repeatedly push through the boundaries of meaning: from the other side, from over there, it sounds through its umlauts, its diphthongs, whispers in the consonant connections, sounds in the flowing swings of its sentence structure. One has no inkling of the artistic experience that language can be until one has learned to listen from within, until the spiritual and intellectual resonance has been transformed into the formation of the 'sound, into the flight of movement.

Today's world is a realization of the intellectual; it does not go beyond the mechanical-mathematical; it does not find the way into the imaginative, into the formation of legends. One no longer manages to form images because one has become an intellectual abstraction. It is much easier to think cleverly than to create picturesquely, because the intellectual emanates from the personal, and artistic creation requires much more selflessness. It submerges into the object instead of imagining it, letting itself be carried away by it instead of holding on to it. We lose our real connection with the world, we deprive people of the immortal by living in intellectualism. Pictorial design not only works on the intellectual, but on the whole person; it goes into much deeper layers of the soul life than conceptual thinking. By trying to speak in pictures, what is atomized by studying the subject matter is synthesized again. It is moved up into the sphere of the imagination, where it is vividly dissolved and musically inspired. In this way it approaches what is eternal in the soul, what stands behind the intellectual. Through speech inspired by the imagination, we lead people to the substantial content of the word, to the supersensible, to the creative word that streams out of the supersensible. Immortal soul life is awakened when we speak from the image, from the artistic; immortal soul life is conquered when we work from the intellectual.

It is not a matter of
observing the temporary,
but the eternal that
lives in man must be observed more and more.

—Marie Steiner

Preliminary Remarks:

The “seminar” — the term was coined by Dr. Steiner — came about because she was unable to come up to the daily lessons in the hall of the Rudolf Steiner-Halde for some time due to a broken arm, and therefore convened a group of about twelve to fourteen personalities — some of them members of her Dornach acting group, but some of them also those who were already active in the field of language in various cities - to work with them through the text examples for the book “Rudolf Steiner: The Art of Recitation and Declamation,” which she was just publishing at the time, with a view to teaching them later. This course, so lively and sparkling, also had a very intimate, personal character due to the limited number of participants. We were all beginners, only a short time, about a year and a half, their students.

The following notes were intended for colleagues and friends who were unable to attend the sessions, in order to give them at least a small impression of this work. These notes are all about corrections to what we have attempted, which were given to us in the moment of activity – pointing the way forward.

—Gertrud Redlich

Some notes on the LANGUAGE EXERCISES with a view to later teaching:

Articulation exercises

The breath stream should only be mentioned in a later lesson. Try to speak at the front of the lips, to articulate well, so that you bring the language forward. The two main mistakes that occur are palatal and head sounds.

That he lied to you and must not praise it
Don't take nuns in never-ending mills.

Take the I out with the consonants. N and M guide the I sound out well. Feel the directions. Envelop the I with N and M. These consonants resonate and take the I with them.

Learn to listen!

Redlich ratsam
Rüstet rühmlich
Riesig rächend
Ruhig rollend
Reuige Rosse

only articulate. First, pay attention to the consonants so that they lead out the vowels. Then you can tell the students to live more in the vowel, to feel it, to experience the sounds, to be in the sounds.

Knead air dough

Ostentatiously extols
Baths brünstig
Rumblingly cute
Bieder tinkering
Powder patzend
Bergig brüstend

Breathing exercises

Fulfillment comes
Through hope
Through yearning
Through wanting
Wanting blows
In the weaving
It blows in the quivering
It weaves quivering
It weaves bindingly
In the finding
It winds finding
announcing

This exercise can be very helpful for those who are short of breath; it must sound full. The breathing technique is the opposite of that of a singer, who directs their breath. Here you have to learn to exhaust it all at once. This is how you achieve fullness and roundness.

Breathing exercises teach us to speak musically. You have to be objective when doing the exercises, not bring in anything balladic, pathetic or lyrical, but speak soberly and prosaically but phonetically. Do not take pitches that have an emotional effect. Pictorial imagery is not absolutely necessary here.

In the immeasurable vastness,
In the endless times,
In the depths of the human soul,
In the revelation of the world:
Search for the great riddle's solution.

Use the first four lines, especially N, well. Experience the horizontal in “in the times”, the vertical in “in the depths”, a large wave downwards, a large O in “world revelation”.

The message in the last line is figurative.

The flowing of the breath must take you along, shading “Human Soul Depths” a little deeper, tone and breath down. The language needs urgency, one Flin involving the other, a loving laying into the vowels.

You need strong breathing for this exercise, you learn to speak with the inhalation and shape it. “Search” to shed some light. Challenge, seriously! First lines – Flinausgehen in den Kosmos.

Fluency exercises

Lalle Lieder lieblich
Lipplicher Laffe
Lappiger lumpiger
Laichiger Lurch

Experience the waves that the L makes, this is how it brings out the sound. Develop joy in things. The exercise is effervescent and, in affect, says something pictorial – affective-humorous.

You have to learn the fluency exercises by purring them, they are meant to make the speech tools pliable.

Speak on the lips, start at the front, purr lightly!

The articulation exercises are intended to make you aware of the speech tools. The voice should be based solely on the sound.

Whistle cleverly
Horses priestly
Plows nurturing
Peaching peaches

Whistling cleverly from bowls
Slipping priestly horses
Bouncing nursing plows
Peaching peaches knotting

Whistling cleverly out of bowls
Hatching horse-drawn horses
Hopping over plows
Tying up peaches

Heretics now tell tales pitifully
Ultimately slightly skeptical

Heretics now snitch pitifully
Ultimately suddenly slightly skeptical

Also on the lips and slightly.

Sling snake quickly
Wound away finds

Winding snake snake
Quickly snake snake away

Very light, at the front.

Contrary to force, though
Two-purpose zwickers too little
Twenty dwarves
The sinewy crabs
safely seeking feasting
That smacking Schmachter
snugly quickly
purring flicks

To a Russian-speaking participant: Roll the R less. The German must be able to adjust the R according to the neighboring consonants. Bring it forward!

Only never regret
Greedily grinning
Knots snapping
Pledges knotting

You should use these exercises to feel in which region you are speaking.

Once again, breathing exercises :

It is very important that one also creates good consonant connections in which the sound (vowel) can live. One gradually learns to feel one's breathing without being held back by the imagination. To do this, it is good to practice some words in reverse:

wollen - nellow, eva - ave, etc.

In “Fulfillment,” learn to let go of the breath, to let yourself fall with the breath into the words.

We must gradually achieve penetration of consciousness.

Breathing exercises serve to make us aware of the breathing current.

Articulation exercises to make us aware of the speech tools.

The “immeasurables” also involve directing the breath. The words are steered like boats over the waves, gradually swelling to the fourth line.

When you tell your students about breathing, you may say that you are not committed to any particular method. You learn to practice your breathing with the sounds themselves; your breathing is directed by itself when the sounds are spoken well.

You learn to hold your breath with the five vowels in a sustained stream of breath: A-E-I-O-U.

Send upwards
longing desire
Send forwards
thoughtful striving
Send backwards
conscientious reflection.

Learn to swim with your breath and listen to the sounds. You should start modulating as soon as you send. Feel what consonant connections do to each vowel, for example: n-d in send.

Take three pitches!

Do not hold the things on a string, feel the sounds and resonate with them. The stream of movement must take you with it. There is an essence in these things.

This essence must take you with it, not we must hold it close to our hearts.

Weigh your volition clearly,
direct your feeling aright,
make your thinking rigid:
rigid thinking upholds,
right feeling maintains,
clear volition follows
the deed.

When speaking the last line, lead away from the musical and into movement.

Set your feeling aright: soul-line.

Steal your thinking: rigidly, rhythmically! The sounds themselves set the voice; one has only to yield to them. The voice sets itself according to the sounds. What precedes and follows always colors the things.

One should gradually develop a sense for the difference between artistic lines and intellectual and emotional speech. One must learn to go through to the end with the ego and not always stop intellectually.

When portraying voices from the beyond, for example angels or Madonnas and so on, one would have to learn to stop before it all comes into the imagination. Sentimentality stops right away and is self-indulgent, and therefore not spiritually true. Movement makes it true.

Clear volition follows: look artistically, not want yourself!

You find yourself:
Searching in world distances,
Striving for world heights,
Fighting in world depths.

First line from the conscious will. The breathing person continues through all incarnations, he is more spiritual than the feeling person.

The base nose ate flour
Lawn mass scratched bare

The A long and strong into it. The exercise is actually intended to counter nasal speech, but it can also be used as an A exercise.

Storm-word rumbles around gate and tower
Newt-worm drills through gate and tower
Stupidly, worm-newt rages through gate and tower

This precedes the exercise. It is also very suitable for speaking in the breathing stream. Nuance! The first line is not dramatic, but very dark in the speech stream, like the wind that bypasses. Newt-worm drills: not mentally, not dramatically. Loud. Movement – breath.

Rages foolishly: very dark, dull and bumpy.

At the O, the hard palate must make a bulge.

These three lines are all tuned to U, only differing in movement; the U must be superimposed on the O.

There must always be an increase at the end (newt-worm, worm-newt).

An egg is whitish, whitish is an egg
Lead is new in the litter, new in the litter is lead
The maiden is bluish, bluish is maidenly.

is good practice for squeezed lute. Simple and concrete and out.

Hot, radiant, spiky
strands support tight
nets, useful as
strict paws, strict
folded

a strong articulation exercise! Good for sagging soft palate. The alternation of plosives with L and R sprinkled in between tightens the soft palate. The vowels go into the consonants and are defeated by them.

For pointed and sharp voices:

Walle Welle willig
Leise lispeln lumpige Lurche lustig

Gently flow with L, feel the wave motion, L and W bring out.

Is a stumbling star
Master of mystical stages
Always stand firm on the road
Of earnest endeavor
Standing still and stern
Before the steps of constant endeavor
In a constant mood.

Bring the sound forward, without any inner compassion. Go into the consonant connections and bend them nicely. The exercise is good for those who stutter.

White brightness shines into the black darkness
The black darkness seizes the feeling soul
The feeling soul longs for the white brightness
The white brightness is the willing soul drive
The willing soul drive finds the white brightness
In the white brightness, the longing soul weaves

to learn nuance! You have to keep returning to the repetitive rhythm, letting the breath flow like a wind and using the imagination for nuances; also learning to take breaks every now and then. Movement, movement – don't get stuck in the singing!

How do you explain the hexameter to your students? It is the primal meter. The human organism itself solves the riddle that is given in the meter. You can trace the meter back to the human organism, breath and pulse. There are four pulses in one breath.

Practice the first lines of Goethe's “Achilleis”.

The mighty blaze flared up once more
, reaching for the sky, and the walls of Iios appeared
red through the dark night; the towering forest
's immense structure, collapsing, aroused
mighty glow at last. Then Hector's bones descended, and the ashes of the noblest Trojan lay on the ground.

There are two breaths and two times four pulses (three dactyls and one caesura) in each hexameter. Example: “Sing, O Muse, of the wrath...”

The relation of the pulse to the breath is the basis for the influence of higher beings through blood and breathing.

We will now try to understand the DIFFERENCES BETWEEN RECITATION AND DECLAMATION by practicing the two “Iphigenias”.

From “Iphigenia”
(Weimar version):

Come out, you shadows, ever-moving treetops of the sacred grove, as if into the sanctuary of the goddess I serve, I step with ever-new awe, and my soul does not get accustomed to being here!

(Roman version):

Come out, you shadows, ever-moving treetops
Of the old, sacred, densely leafy grove,
As in the goddess's silent sanctuary,
I still enter with a shuddering feeling,
As if I were entering it for the first time,
And my spirit does not get used to it here.

The “Roman Iphigenia” lives in the symmetry of the metric; in the “German Iphigenia,” I have to vault, point, and intensify from the inner, tonal will element, which vaults and points at the end of the sentence (clamare). Here it is an approach to the oppressive.

Try to understand and develop artistic lines. The content of the two Iphigenias is the same, the artistic line is different.

In the German: high and low tones, strong life in the exhalation, expelling the breath. In the Roman, a musical conducting and use of inhalation. It must not come to the performance, the image is intercepted on the way to the performance, one breathes in the air that flows in by itself.

In order for it to become declamation, the will must be held back and not allowed to flow into the outside world. In order for it to become recitation, the imagination must be held back, remaining in musical enjoyment.

Inhalation is used to speak to everything spiritual, for example, Rudolf Steiner's weekly sayings.

The benefit lies in the musical practice, not in the enjoyment of one's own personality. In this way everything becomes more real, nobler and truer. We gradually learn to illuminate all regions with our consciousness. In the flowing breath, the sculpture dissolves musically.

Two poems are practised, one recited, the other declaimed.

Goethe: “Charon” - recitative (text see p. 31)
“Olympos” - declamatory (text see p. 30)

Before that, some language exercises: Hitzige strahlige / Walle, Welle / Ist strauchelnder / Weiße Helligkeit (for texts, see pp. 169-70).

“Olympos” is shaped entirely from the folk-like, the epic, which pushes everything out of the will, bloodily, toweringly increasing. Pauses! Magnificent images that are thrown down, rough, angular, hard like jagged mountains. Will and contempt. The bird of prey must be characterized, it eats the carcass soundlessly, only in the breath. Start at the soft palate and arch, making the hard palate flatter.

“Charon” is recitative-like, metrical. This is where antiquity comes in, with composed, digested images; the other poem lives in the midst of modern events.

In “Charon” it is more the rhythmic, the musical, the mood and the painting, not high and low tones, but not always the same tempo, otherwise you get no nuances. Not soulful, defensive movements in metrical uniformity and dark shading.

“Heidenröslein” (Goethe); “Erlkönigs Tochter” (Herder) (see pages 28/29 for texts).

“Heidenröslein”: shape the words in the air, but don't stick to the words. It's movement and image. See the image clearly. The little dialog is somewhat dramatic; this is where the declamatory element of will comes in. It's like a folk song, especially in the refrain.

“Erlkönigs Tochter”: it is epic with a strong dramatic impact. One must carve out the dramatic element and the mood. The treatment is recitative-like with a strong dramatic impact. It becomes dramatic when some character takes on a life of its own. But if you let yourself be carried away by your personal temperament, you have lost your style. Don't lose the rhythm that ennobles the whole. Rhythm contains the most diverse movements. The drama seduces, it is tempting to remain stylistically correct. A mysterious mood of fairy tales and legends prevails throughout the poem, so you have to let the vowels slip into the consonants. The poem contains many possibilities for differentiation. Configure it so that you drop the insignificant and change the tempo. Take breaks to create atmosphere. These people – mother, bride – have intuitions that you can shape in the pauses.

A reciter must be proficient in all subjects and must be able to differentiate. Do not work the vowels so strongly; then they are more transparent. Let them slip into the consonants. The mother's pain is to be shaped out of the region of the will, detached from the personal. This is a matter of breathing and technique. Learn to live in the sounds, not so connected with the content. It is a ghostly event, and this gives the color. You have to make it interesting, uncovering backgrounds. Make the diphthongs transparent for the mother, then the spiritual can shine through and the whole thing becomes nobler.

When the vowels are pierced, the spiritual always enters.

LANGUAGE

As the greatest miracle that the mind accomplished,
I praise language, which, otherwise lost
In deepest solitude, was born of itself,
Because it alone made the others possible.

Yes, when I consider its reason and purpose,
Then only language has conjured up the heavy curse
To which, chosen to be a dull individual,
He would have succumbed before he even woke.

For if the unsearchable One and All,

Friedrich Hebbel

With this sonnet we must be calm, not conceptual, but flexible and musically plastic. Speak with inhalation, then there is abundance, and make small pauses. Artistically shape the pauses at the right place, do not inhale unmotivated.

A mood of being saturated with enthusiasm through experience and volition. The poem is very strict; the down inflections indicate maturity. Flebbel is superb.

One must always have the poet's basic mood in the poems.

TO THE AERials

All-eternal and infinite ether!
Through the narrowest, as through the widest, it flows!
Excluded from no ring of existence!
Still wafted by every breath of life!

The only representative of the unexplored!
Its first and most worthy offspring!
The only one in deepest tranquility enveloped!
Opposite you, I too become a supplicant!

My roaming eye, that would embrace you so gladly,
Closes in awe before you, ere it fails,
For the gaze comprehends nothing but its own limitations.

So also my spirit before God, for it recognized
That it, embraced, never expands so much
to entwine itself around the All-embracing One again.

Friedrich Hebbel

One must feel the waves of the ether. A sonnet does not tolerate declamation.

From Rudolf Steiner's “Mysteries Dramas” (“The Portal of Initiation”, seventh scene):

PHILIA:
I will fulfill myself
With the clearest light
From the world's widths,
I will breathe in myself
Invigorating sound
From the ether's depths,
So that you, beloved sister,
Can succeed in your work.

ASTRID:
I will interweave
Radiant light
With dimming darkness,
I will condense
The sound of life.
It shall resound glisteningly,
It shall resound glitteringly,
So that you, beloved sister,
can direct the soul's rays.

LUNA:
I will warm soul substance
And will harden life ether.
They shall condense,
They shall feel each other,
And being within themselves,
Shall sustain each other,
So that you, beloved sister, Can give the searching human soul Certainty of knowledge.

PHILIA:
I will beseech the spirits of the world, That the light of their being Enchant the soul's sense,And the sound of their words Make the spirit's ear glad; So that the one to be awakened May rise On paths of the soul To the heights of heaven.

ASTRID:
I will direct the currents of love,
Warming the world,
To the heart
Of the initiate;
So that he can bring
Heaven's kindness
To earthly activity,
And a spirit of devotion
To the children of men.

LUNA:
I will beg of elemental forces
Courage and strength,
And place them in the seeker's heart;
In the depths of his heart;
So that trust
In one's own self
Can accompany him through life.
He shall feel safe
In himself then.
He shall pluck from moments
the ripe fruits
and draw seeds from them
for eternities.

Regarding this scene with the soul forces:

Here we have completely musically resolved plastic. The words must resound out in the cosmos. One must catch the inhalation, otherwise the otherworldly will not come out. Without this breathing treatment, one cannot resolve musically. With full breath, with too much breath, one cannot do spiritually resolved. It depends on the dosage, one must divide the doses. One should also glide over the auxiliary verbs. Nuances of major!

Luna – Prime Minister, Maria – Supreme Queen.

Truth is always connected with being there with the I the whole time and always going along with things. Truth is always simple. This is achieved by tapering the sounds, not thickening them.

The first thing in artistic speech formation is: learn to yawn! The other: keep the style!

Two sonnets by Novalis (see texts on pages 32/33)

These two sonnets are very recitative-like and very transparent, very calm and – very difficult!

We will start by working on the form, everything else will follow later – for example, the feeling. Our task now is to work on style and form.

Novalis is absolutely a man of the I. You have to feel from the beginning that there is a lofty I behind it. The I-nature can eternally get into everything. Major! In the beginning, it is better to be somewhat forceful, vary the word gestures – and live in the imagination. Maturity, relationship to the supersensible.

Novalis must be spoken in the same way as one who stands in the concrete experience of the spiritual world. The word gestures must grab you immediately.

Consonance. Operate with what comes to your mouth anyway.

If you have to breathe in again, don't drop the word before it, but hold it up. Zändende I-moments in the entries, making the vowels transparent, always being poetic.

Novalis is the embodiment of poetry, his inner gesture is: touching the hem of divinity.

No rising and falling intonation here! With Novalis, you should do the modulation consciously, the content merges into the line.

Hymn to Nature (Goethe) (lyrics see p. 127)

The words must sound hymn-like, therefore the declamation should be free of didactics. Here, everything is surprising. Project the resonance from the hard palate. Nature always has something iron-willed about it. The speech must be consonantal, arising from the breath and sounds, not from the head and heart, in a strong, willful movement. Do not let it become a conversation. High and low tones, they are all beats of the pulse that surge into the breath.

The formation includes: embouchure, resonance line and soundboard. The soundboard is always out in the air, which is nice. Different tempi. Different ways of forming sounds: whether wavy, angular, sharp, and so on. There is more in the sounds than we know. There lie the creative powers, which then spurt out with all the diversity of nature. Our soul is not enough. Into the Gothic pointed arch with the throw. The will element must go through the limbs, you feel it in the arms and legs.

During declamation, inhalation flows up to the brain and then back to the spinal cord. There we have to stop the flow of breath with the will element, not letting it come to action. With this unexpressed will, I can operate in the breath stream. The idea must have been there before, it came with the inhalation into the brain and was dealt with there.

The stream of breathing comes back to the sphere of the will.

Model into the exhalation – but without personal dramatic feeling – into the sound, with pauses and not with strong sound. But always include the limb-man.

From “Die Nibelunge” by Wilhelm Jordan (lyrics see 5.116/17)

Movement is not rushing! Please a held step here, completely into the movement and depth. It does not need to echo; roll along epically in the flow, not always at an even tempo like a barrel organ. The listener must be introduced to the situation. The sound H chisels, works plastically. One must avoid chiseling with non-alliterating words, but one can therefore take them broadly. The song is somewhat more recitative-like with a dramatic impact, but not so strong that the epic is held up. Epic demands that one enter completely into it and completely digest the images. The conclusion is darkly musical, brazen and somewhat dying away.

St. Expeditus (Morgenstern) (lyrics see p. 33 ff.)

“Expeditus” is humorous poetry, not grotesque, and therefore without strong exaggeration. It is recitative, so not so much high and low tones! You could call it communicative conversation. You have to learn to distinguish whether the language flows more in terms of number and measure in the syllables, or with weight, heavy and light. But the images must stand out well within the flow. Please work the matter out very formally.

Goethe's youth poems should also be treated similarly, with esprit, with spirit! Emphasize something, that is, make the syllables stand out a little. The mind from the brain has a little fun with it. Humor peeks into all the pots and takes things out. Therefore, you have to penetrate into every matter. Speak very close to the teeth, as soon as it becomes satirical. A quiet legend and fairy tale mood, not too fast, not echoing and well shaded and pointed, let the vowels slip into the consonants, so that it becomes somewhat unreal and flowing. Design good pauses and stay in the poetic, not conceptual, just a little head, but with the application of all artistic means. Very graceful! Artistically surround with subordinate clauses and slide them in gracefully.

German doesn't just come naturally to the lips.

In the grotesque, you can add a bulge to the end of the sound to make it thicker; it's the exact opposite of spiritual speaking.

THE BOUQUET

Old Bohemian

A light breeze blows
from the royal forests;
There the girl runs,
There she runs to the stream,
draws the water in
bucketfuls.

Carefully, deliberately
She knows how to scoop.

On the river to the girl
A little bouquet floats,
A fragrant little bouquet
Of violets and roses.

If I, you lovely
little flower, knew who had planted you
in loose soil;
Truly! I would give him
a little golden ring.

If I, my darling
little bouquet, knew,
Who bound you with delicate
Baste;
Truly! I would give him
The needle from my hair.

If I, you lovely
little flower, knew who threw you into the cool
stream, I would truly give them my wreath from my head.

And so she pursues
The hastening little bouquet,
She hurries ahead of it,
Trying to catch it:
Then, alas! then she falls
Into the cool water.

J. W. Goethe

The poem is lyrical and has a short melodious theme. It is to be treated objectively. The girl herself is like a breeze. Rococo poems are entirely formal, whereas this Bohemian folk song can be somewhat more intimate. There are quiet echoes of melodies, but movement must dominate. Breeze-like mood. The music must not push the image and the sculpture into the background.

From “Kleine Mythen” by Albert Steflen

JUDGE AND REDEEMER

A man who had shed blood was seized by a waterfall in the night, whipped and dragged down into the abyss. Half-drowned, he snatched himself from the whirlpool. From that time forth, in all his doings and sufferings, he heard the voice of the terrible element. It dripped, trickled, splashed, poured, thundered, as if it wanted to proclaim something, but the tortured man did not know what.

After twenty-five years, the rushing became quieter.

One night he saw the murdered man by a stream, holding a reed in his hand and shouting, “I turn water into blood.

”How?” asked the murderer. ‘By the law,’ replied the murdered man. ‘Judge me,’ pleaded the murderer, ‘so that you may love me again as I love you.’

Then Christ appeared in the place of the judge.

Here we have prose: legendary, somewhat similar to a fairy tale, but the slipping in of vowels is even stronger here than in the fairy tale. There should be something like a veil over the words. One does not speak directly on the lips, but also not in the palate. It must be dream-like, objectively dream-like. In dreams, everything comes unexpectedly. Moonlight atmosphere. The inflections of each syllable downwards. It is imagination, therefore every image must appear despite the flow. Seize the words with the consonants, but dissolve the things as they come. Complete all movements. For the artistic creation, one must allow oneself to be completely gripped by the material, live through it completely and then move away from it. You should go through everything, even cry and sob if you want, but then stand aside and above it.

When you are dreaming, you do not speak from the heart, you cannot go completely into the heart, otherwise it becomes too real. You have to keep a little distance and, above all, enter the picture, completely into the picture. Learn to distinguish between strong emotion and passion.

The listener experiences more intensely when you leave the emotion to him, not overwhelm him with it. Art itself is in all areas of suggestion.

The last movement is quite simple, a light. Strict! Major! Because the judge appeared in place of the Christ.