The music of Tannhaeuser sang into Bruckner's ears a veritable proclamation of independence. Thus, Wagner, whom he had as yet never seen, set him free at a mere spiritual touch, spurring him to unrestrained self-expression. With the very first effort of this new-born Bruckner, the glorious Mass in D, the world was endowed with an initial major work surpassed in-depth and brilliancy perhaps by no other in the entire range of music. Inspired by Tannhaeuser, if you will, yet sounding not the slightest echo of its strains, the Mass abounds in fine passages, unjustly dubbed Wagnerian, for they could not as yet have had any prototype. The opening Adagio, built up on the theme of the Liebestod (a year before the first performance of Tristan), the music accompanying the settling down of the dove at the end of Parsifal (nineteen years before the first performance), the "Fall of the Gods" and the "Spear-motive" from the Ring (twelve years before Bayreuth), these anticipatory touches should, injustice, be viewed, not as Wagnerisms, but rather as forerunners of the new epic spirit that was just rising in music.
The composition of this masterpiece took only three months. After the first performance, in the Cathedral at Linz, November 20, 1864, the Bishop Rudigier was heard to remark: "During that mass I could not pray." Indeed, so profound was the impression the work made, that it was given a "concert" performance by general request Shortly after, achieving a veritable triumph. Bruckner's success was proudly reported in the Viennese papers, for it was good publicity for the "home" conservatory of which he had been "one of the best pupils."
Elated by his success Bruckner at once began working on his first symphony. That year (1865) May 15 had been set aside in Munich for the greatest musical– event of the century, the initial performance of Tristan. Naturally, Bruckner made the trip to the Bavarian capital and when, owing to the illness of Isolde (Frau Schnorr), the event was postponed till the tenth of June, he decided to await the great day in the city. There he had the fortune to be presented to Wagner himself, who at once took a liking to the serious, honest Austrian, inviting him to spend many an evening in the famous Wagnerian "circle." Von Buelow became Bruckner's first confidant when the latter shyly showed the great pianist the first three movements of his growing symphony. Von Buelow was so astonished at the splendor 'and freshness of the ideas in this new score that he could not refrain from communicating his enthusiasm to the great Richard, much to Bruckner's embarrassment, for when Wagner asked in person to see the symphony, so great was the awe in which the younger composer stood of the "Master of all masters" that he could not summon up the courage to show it to him. He shrank from such a step as though it had been a sacrilege. So naive was his hero-worship of the master that he could not even be induced to sit down in Wagner's presence. No wonder, then, that after the Tristan performance Wagner became for Bruckner a veritable religion. Yet for this faith the younger man was condemned to suffer such abuse as has fallen to the lot of no other in the annals of art. He was to write nine mighty symphonies, ad majorem Dei gloriam, for from man he was destined to receive not reward, but neglect, scorn, and spiritual abuse beyond measure.
On April 14, 1866, Bruckner's first symphony was complete, ready to announce to a skeptical world that the supreme instrumental form had not culminated in Beethoven. True enough, it was from the immortal Fifth of Beethoven, that Parnassus of musical classicism, that this new master drew the spiritual motto for all his symphonic efforts. Each of his symphonies might be described as an ascent per aspera ad astra. Through the logical order of the four movements he unfolded the panorama of the trials of the human soul as hero. Beginning with (first movement) the drama of inner conflict, then (adagio) returning from the prayerful communion with God to the (scherzo) joys of life in nature, at length (finale) with unconquerable energy and determination entering upon the battle with the world, culminating in the final triumph over all opposition, he laid down the permanent spiritual foundation for all his symphonic labors.
That the first performance of this symphony, 1868, technically the most difficult that had as yet come into existence, was not a total failure, is scarcely short of a miracle, for the best string and brass sections the town of Linz could provide faced the allegedly "impossible" score almost hopelessly. Yet Bruckner conducted the numerous rehearsals with such desperate zeal that the result was at least musical enough to call forth respectful comment from the critics, though they could have gleaned but the scantiest notion of the true significance of the work from such a performance.
Even the noted critic Hanslick, on the strength of this favorable report, congratulated the Viennese conservatory, hinting approvingly at a rumor that its faculty was soon to be augmented by so valuable an acquisition as Bruckner.
The rumor came true, though only after long, long hesitation on Bruckner's part. He feared to give up his modest but secure post in Linz for a miserably underpaid and insecure chair in theory at the noted music school of the capital, but his friends, understanding his timidity and realizing the tremendous artistic advantages of the proffered position, urged him to accept it. At length, after Bishop Rudigier assured Bruckner that the organ at the Cathedral in Linz would always be waiting for him, he decided to risk the chance. The date upon which he officially assumed his title of professor was July 6, 1868.
Just about this time, in his forty-third year, he was made the unhappy victim of a great spiritual shock. The parents of the seventeen-year-old Josephine Lang with whom the composer had fallen in love refused him the girl's hand because of his age. In Bruckner's many cases of platonic affection for young girls (this continued till his seventieth year) there is enticing food for the modern psychologist's or psychoanalyst's formulizations.
Now began for Bruckner a slow and cruel martyrdom. His very first Viennese attempt, the newly composed Mass in F-minor, was refused a hearing on the ground that it was "unsingable." After this two new symphonic attempts were suppressed by the nerve-racked composer himself with the bitter comment: "They are no good; I dare not write down a really decent theme."
Discouraged, he decided to stop composing for a while and set out on a concert tour through France. The newspaper reports of this series of recitals were so jubilant that Europe soon rang with the name of Bruckner, "the greatest organist of his time."
Returning to Austria, in better spirits, he experienced "the most glorious day of his life" when his Mass in E-minor (composed in 1866) was given its initial hearing (Linz, 1869) midst unqualified enthusiasm.
The astonishing reports from France about Bruckner's organ-improvisations had so aroused the curiosity of many Englishmen that the virtuoso was offered fifty pounds for twelve recitals in London to be given within a week! Out of this "munificent" fee he was expected to pay his own travelling expenses!
Nevertheless August 2, 1871, found Bruckner seated at a London organ dutifully improvising on the appropriate theme "God save the King." Phlegmatic John Bull, quite impressed by the grandeur of these improvisations, nevertheless remarked judiciously that the performer showed his weakness in a Mendelssohn sonata, as had been expected. After one of these recitals a London lady advised Bruckner through an interpreter to learn English before his next visit to Britain. He never visited England again.