If the composer Hans Pfitzner is remembered at all today, it’s as
a Nazi dupe, a man of considerable musical vision corrupted by
his own grandiloquent dreams and a persistent sense that his
genius was not properly acknowledged. Like other celebrated
German musicians of his time—Richard Strauss and Wilhelm
Furtwängler among them—Pfitzner was a respected cultural figure
who opted to coexist with the Nazis. Though his nationalistic
sentiments doubtless made it easier to remain in Germany once
artistic freedom was squelched, Pfitzner’s hopes of a garlanded
life under Hitler were to be dashed, for the Third Reich had
little use for this particular paragon of Holy German Art.
Pfitzner’s postwar reputation remains blemished. History has
judged his decision to toil under National Socialism a devil’s
bargain. So why, despite our clear repudiation of Nazi politics,
are we fascinated by figures such as Pfitzner? If anything, our
interest in these talented sinners appears to have increased
lately. One need only look at the host of books, videos, and
compact discs that purport to shed light on the topic to realize
the depth of our obsession.
It was therefore no surprise to learn that Pfitzner’s magnum
opus, the opera Palestrina, was the toast of London’s Covent
Garden earlier this year. Much talked about, it was soon snapped
up for the second Lincoln Center Festival, where it was performed at
the Metropolitan Opera House
three times between July 21 and 26. The
funny thing is, of course, Palestrinais